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leriexoxo · 2 months ago

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Accidental Nudes

Bestfriend! Jisung x Reader

Tags: smut with feelings, voyeurism, masturbation (m,f), oral sex (m,f), praise kink, unprotected sex, dom jisung, accidental nudes, best friends to lovers, sexual tension, first kiss, feelings realization, pet name kink

Word count: 6.7k

Summary: You were lounging on his couch, texting beside him when you sent the wrong video—your video. Legs spread, fingers buried deep, moaning like you needed to be ruined. You didn’t mean for him to see it. You definitely didn’t mean for him to jerk off to it the second you left the room. But now that the line’s been crossed, Jisung isn’t pretending anymore—and he’s already obsessed with making your pussy his.

This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Part 2 >>

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The living room smelled like microwave popcorn and laundry detergent. Your feet were propped up on the edge of Jisung’s coffee table, socks mismatched and lazily half-peeled off from a long, warm day. The TV droned in the background—some loud anime neither of you were really watching—and Jisung sat next to you, shoulder pressed just slightly into yours like he always did. Comfortable. Normal.

You scrolled through your phone, thumb flicking over your camera roll absently.

“Yo, can you send me those pictures from earlier?” Jisung’s voice broke through, rough around the edges, halfway distracted by his own screen.

You blinked. “Which ones?”

“The ones at the park. You got a couple good shots of me, remember? By the railing, with that stupid filter.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You tapped into your gallery and selected the ones he meant, dragging your thumb over them one by one, heart rate steady, barely even thinking.

You didn’t see what else was highlighted.

Didn’t remember what else was saved in the same folder.

Didn’t catch the thumbnail.

You hit send.

Just like that. The pictures went through in a neat little bundle, blue checkmarks popping up on your screen. You set your phone down without a second thought, your fingers reaching for the bag of popcorn between you as Jisung unlocked his phone beside you.

Seconds passed. You could still hear the faint hum of the TV. The soft rustle of popcorn. But Jisung had gone still. Like—not just distracted or zoning out, but genuinely still.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.

He hadn’t moved. Not even a little.

He was staring down at his phone, jaw tight, one thumb frozen mid-scroll.

“…What?” you asked, your voice casual, unaware. “Did they not send?”

He didn’t answer.

That’s when something in your chest twitched.

You turned fully toward him.

His phone was angled slightly away, but not enough to hide the screen entirely. You caught a flicker of your own skin—bare legs—something blurry in motion. Something unmistakably you.

Your stomach dropped through the floor.

No. No, no, no—

You snatched your phone back up, swiped into your messages—and there it was. At the bottom of the list. Four photos, and below them, one video. Unmarked. Unintended. The one you hadn’t meant to save, let alone send.

Your mouth went dry.

“Jisung—” you started, heart slamming into your ribs. “Wait, that—I didn’t mean to—fuck, I didn’t know that was—”

Still, he said nothing.

When you looked back up, his expression was unreadable. Blank in a way that made your skin crawl. Eyes fixed to the screen like he couldn’t tear them away. Not wide. Not shocked. Just… focused. Intently.

You wanted to disappear. Sink into the couch cushions. Crawl under the floorboards. Anything.

He finally blinked, slow. His jaw flexed once.

And then, finally, he spoke—quiet, low, voice wrapped in something you couldn’t name.

“You sent me a video.”

Your throat clicked as you swallowed. “I know. I didn’t—I didn’t mean to. I thought I was just sending the park photos. I didn’t realize—”

His thumb moved, and your own voice filled the room.

Muffled. Distant. Breathy. Not saying anything at all, really. Just soft, wordless sounds. The kind you’d never made in front of anyone.

You weren’t even looking at the camera in the video. It had been for you. A moment you’d recorded and then immediately regretted, shoved into the depths of your gallery, meaning to delete it later and never following through.

Now it was on his screen. Inches away.

He shifted in place, and you heard the breath he let out—tight, uneven, sharp at the edges.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, quieter now. “Just—you can delete it…”

Still no answer. He didn’t even look at you.

But you felt something shift in the air between you. Something unspoken and heavy. The silence stretched, long and suffocating, until he finally, finally locked his phone and set it face down on the couch.

And only then—only then—did he turn toward you.

His eyes met yours, dark and unreadable, and for the first time in your entire friendship, you didn’t know what he was thinking.

But you could feel it. Like something had cracked. And he wasn’t putting it back together.

You weren’t breathing right. The air felt too thick, too warm, like it clung to your skin with every second that passed. Your heart hammered inside your chest, unsteady and loud, and still—he said nothing.

Jisung just looked at you.

Not like a best friend.

Not like someone who should’ve been flustered or laughing it off or making a dumb joke to cut the tension. No—he was studying you. Eyes dragging across your face, unreadable.

You tried to speak again, but your throat felt tight, like your words would come out wrong no matter what you said.

“I didn’t mean—” you started, voice thin.

“I know.”

It wasn’t reassuring.

He leaned back slightly, exhaling through his nose like he was trying to stay calm, like the air in his lungs was too hot to hold. His hand ran through his hair, fingers clenching at the ends. You didn’t miss the twitch in his jaw. The way he glanced down at his own lap—and then pointedly looked away again.

That’s when you realized: he hadn’t moved because he couldn’t. His posture had stiffened. His legs were still spread, knees wide, casual—but his shoulders were tight now. His hand hovered awkwardly near his thigh. As if—You swallowed hard.

As if he was hard.

Your mouth went dry again.

A new kind of panic clawed up your spine. Not just embarrassment, not just guilt—but something unfamiliar. Something sharp-edged and electric that made your skin feel too tight. You should have looked away. Gotten up. Pretended it hadn’t happened.

But you couldn’t stop watching him. Just like he hadn’t been able to stop watching you in the video.

He looked like he was trying to not react. Trying to shove the whole thing down inside his chest and pretend it wasn’t crawling under his skin.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “That was private. I didn’t mean for you to see that.”

His voice was rough when he finally answered, like it had been scraped raw from the inside. “Yeah. I figured.”

And still, that quiet. That space between you that used to feel safe, effortless—now it felt like a live wire.

You shifted, just slightly, and his gaze flicked to your legs. It was fast, but you caught it. He didn’t mean to look. Or maybe he did. Either way, his expression twisted with something unspoken, and he dropped his eyes to the floor.

You waited for him to make a joke. Call you a perv. Ask who the video was for.

But he didn’t.

He just reached out—gently—and picked up his phone again. He didn’t look at it. He just held it in both hands, fingers curled loosely around the edges.

“I’ll delete it,” he said.

You nodded, barely.

“Right now,” he added, like he needed you to know he wasn’t going to save it. As if that was the part you were afraid of.

And it wasn’t.

You nodded again, voice barely above a breath. “Okay. I’ll –uh i’ll just go”

You rushed out the front door and it clicked shut behind you.

You’d said a quick goodbye, barely looked at him, probably still shaken—rightfully. He’d mumbled something back, didn’t even remember what. Your shoes had slid off the mat with a faint squeak, and then the apartment was quiet again.

You hadn’t even stayed for the rest of the show.

Jisung sat back on the couch like his bones didn’t fit right anymore. One hand still rested loosely on his phone, but he hadn’t opened it again. Couldn’t.

Not yet.

He dragged a hand over his face. Let out a slow, controlled breath. The kind that burned all the way down.

You hadn’t moaned his name. You hadn’t made it for him. You’d told him you didn’t mean for him to see it—and fuck, you’d looked mortified. And that should’ve been it. It should’ve stopped there. He should’ve said something—something stupid or chill or disarming to let you off the hook.

But he hadn’t.

Because he couldn’t.

Because the second that video had started playing, everything inside him had gone very, very quiet.

It wasn’t even what you were doing—though Jesus, that would’ve been enough.

It was how you looked. Your hand slipping down with slow, practiced ease. The soft sounds you made. The way your mouth had parted, almost unconscious, your thighs shifting just a little—Like no one was watching.

Because no one was supposed to.

And now the image was burned behind his eyelids. He could still hear the echo of your breathing in his head, distorted from the phone speaker, but real. Intimate. Close.

He dropped his head back against the couch, exhaling through his nose.

And finally—slowly—he unlocked his phone again.

The chat was still open. The video still there.

Deleting it felt like a sin, he knew he had to but a darker part of his brain said—not yet.

He didn’t tap it right away. Just stared at the thumbnail. Your fingers, the curve of your stomach, that faint motion.

He closed his eyes.

His shorts were too tight now, pressing in where he already throbbed, and it felt fucking wrong to be hard over this. Not just because he wasn’t supposed to see it, but because it felt like crossing some invisible line between you and him that he’d never dared to touch before.

You weren’t in love with him.

You didn’t think of him that way.

He knew that. He’d always known that.

Which made what he was feeling now worse. Hotter. Messier. Because it meant he was looking at something he had no right to want. But that didn’t stop his body from reacting.

Didn’t stop his fingers from hovering over the screen.

Didn’t stop his cock from twitching at just the memory.

He didn’t press play.

His thumb hovered over the screen, body aching, straining, begging for something his brain couldn’t justify—but he didn’t do it.

Not yet.

Instead, he locked the phone again and tossed it facedown onto the coffee table, harder than he meant to. It made a sharp little sound, cracked the silence like a slap, and still—it didn’t help. The heat was still there. The pressure. The tight ache behind his zipper, relentless and wrong and undeniable.

He dropped his head into his hands.

“Fuck…”

It came out low, barely a breath. Like admitting it aloud might undo something. Might shake it off.

It didn’t.

His chest felt tight. Like he’d swallowed something too big and it was stuck halfway down. A lump of guilt and shame and need that sat there, pulsing.

You didn’t send that for him. You weren’t even thinking about him. That video, those sounds, the way your back had arched—that wasn’t for him to see. And now he couldn’t unsee it. Couldn’t stop replaying it in his head even without the damn phone.

He’d never looked at you like this before. Not seriously. Not past the kind of casual, harmless teasing you both tossed around sometimes. You were you. His best friend. His ride-or-die. The one who texted him memes at 3 a.m. and stole fries off his plate and snorted when you laughed too hard.

And now all he could picture was the exact way your fingers had moved between your legs.

He clenched his jaw, stood up too fast, paced the length of the living room once—twice. Raked both hands through his hair and tugged, like the sting on his scalp might ground him.

This was bad.

This was so fucking bad.

Because the guilt wasn’t strong enough to kill the want. Not even close.

He wanted to be a good friend. He wanted to respect you. But underneath all of that was something dark and thick and buzzing—something that whispered she sounded so pretty when she came.

And the worst part?

He didn’t even know who the video was for.

Some faceless guy? A hookup? Someone you actually wanted?

The thought sank its teeth into him like a hook and yanked. His stomach twisted with something bitter. Something too close to jealousy, even though he had no right to feel it.

You weren’t his.

He wasn’t yours.

You’d sent him that video by mistake.

And now he was fucking hard for it. Hard for you. And trying to pretend he wasn’t, wasn’t working anymore.

So after several long minutes, when the burn in his skin didn’t fade and the guilt only started to blur under the weight of the memory—

He sat back down.

Stared at the phone again.

And finally—finally—unlocked it.

He looked at the thumbnail. The frozen frame.

Your skin.Your breathless expression. And the rush of guilt tangled with something sharp and wicked low in his belly.

He swallowed hard.

His thumb hovered again.

And he whispered one last, desperate warning to himself, “Don’t.”

But then he pressed play.

——

You shouldn’t have left like that.

The second the door clicked behind you, your heart hadn’t stopped racing. Not in a nervous way—okay, maybe a little nervous—but mostly? Mostly it was something else. Something crawling under your skin. Something hot.

You’d seen it. Not directly. But you knew.

The way he froze. The way his legs had shifted. The way he looked at you afterward.

He’d gotten hard. Sitting right there next to you.

And as much as you told yourself it was embarrassing—mortifying, even—there was a part of you that couldn’t stop thinking about it. About him seeing you like that. Watching you. His best friend. The way his jaw clenched like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

And maybe you didn’t know what to do either, but one thing was clear: you couldn’t leave it like this.

You didn’t want things to be weird.

So you paced the sidewalk out front for a full fifteen minutes, pulling at your sleeves, chewing your lip, convincing yourself you were just going to talk. Smooth things over. Act like adults. Be chill.

Just a conversation.

That’s all.

So when you turned back, climbed the stairs, and found the door still unlocked—typical Jisung—you didn’t even think to knock. You just stepped inside.

“Jisung, I—”

And you froze.

——

He gave in.

He tried not to. Really tried. Paced. Swore. Spent fifteen solid minutes telling himself he wasn’t going to be that guy.

But the second he heard your voice again—muffled through the speaker, soft and strained—he lost the battle.

The phone was propped in his hand, screen tilted toward him, thumb brushing the edge as the video looped. He had every frame burned into his memory already.

His other hand was wrapped around his cock, slow strokes, too slow—like dragging heat over bare wire. The head was flushed, wet, angry-looking, and he was already too far gone to slow it down. Muscles tensed, thighs wide apart, breathing unsteady. A drop of precum beaded at the tip and rolled down over his fist.

His eyes fluttered shut, jaw clenched, breath catching in his throat.

“Just a little more,” he thought. Just once. Just this once and then I’ll delete it, I swear

And then the door opened.

“Jisung, I—”

Your voice cut off.

He didn’t even have time to look up. He didn’t need to. You were there.

There, at the entrance. There, seeing everything.

The angle of the couch. His legs spread. His cock in his hand. Your own face on the screen in his palm.

You didn’t look away.

You didn’t move.

Couldn’t.

Your brain stuttered, refusing to catch up to what your eyes were feeding it.

Jisung. On the couch. One hand wrapped tightly around his cock, long and flushed and thick between his legs, the other still holding his phone—your video playing on loop. Your face. Your body. The soft sounds you’d made, pouring from the screen like a secret, and—

He froze when he saw you. His whole body went stiff, mouth parted, eyes locked on yours like he wasn’t sure if this was real.

And for one long second, neither of you breathed.

Then he let out a broken, needy sound. Not a word. Not your name. Just a quiet, desperate little whimper that scraped through his throat—and the phone slipped from his fingers, landing on the cushion beside him.

But his hand? His hand kept moving.

Slow, steady, filthy strokes down the length of him. Like he couldn’t help it anymore. Like the sight of you standing there, eyes wide, chest rising fast under your clothes, had pushed him straight past shame and into something darker. Something deeper.

You blinked.

He didn’t stop.

His brows knit together, lips twitching like he wanted to speak but couldn’t get the words out. He looked wrecked—red in the face, sweat on his neck, body strung tight with tension. His thighs flexed under his loose shorts, already shoved down just far enough.

And you were—God! You were drooling.

Heat roared up your spine, heavy and hot and dizzying, pooling between your legs so fast it made your knees weak. You should’ve turned around. Shut the door. Said something. But instead—

You stepped closer.

Not fast. Not loud.

Just a quiet, instinctive move. Like gravity had tilted and you were falling without resistance.

“What…” Your voice came out hoarse. Too soft. “What are you doing?”

It wasn’t accusing. It wasn’t shocked. It was—It was hungry.

And he heard it.

His lips parted further, breath stuttering. His gaze flicked down your body and back up again, like he was trying to process that you hadn’t run. That you were watching him. That you had stepped closer.

“I—” he tried, but it caught in his throat, and all that came out was another low, trembling noise.

And his hand didn’t stop.

If anything, it moved slower now. On purpose.

Like he wanted you to see.

And fuck—you couldn’t look away.

You stepped right up to the couch.

Right up to him.

He tilted his chin up to look at you, mouth slack, his lashes fluttering like he couldn’t believe this was really happening. His hand was still working himself in slow, needy strokes, and fuck—he looked gorgeous like that. Half-wrecked. Flushed all the way down his neck. His cock slick and red and twitching in his grip, leaking steadily with each pass of his fist.

Your heart thudded so hard it hurt. Your mouth parted. Your breathing shallow. And your eyes?

God—you couldn’t pull them away.

They were locked on his cock. On the stretch of his fingers around the base, on the way his tip was dripping for you now, like he could feel how badly you wanted him.

You heard yourself ask, barely a whisper:

“Is it really just the video?”

He let out a loud, aching moan.

Not a word.

Just a sound—yes without saying yes. Need without trying to hide it. And his eyes dragged down your body, catching on your chest. Your nipples were hard beneath your shirt, so tight it almost hurt, and when he saw them, his mouth twitched—like he was biting back a groan.

He knew.

He knew you were turned on too.

You were standing over him, trembling, but it was like your body had already decided for you. Because before you knew it—You dropped to your knees between his spread legs.

The carpet brushed your shins. Your hands hovered just shy of his thighs. The air was filled with the heat of him, the scent of him, and when you looked up this time—he was the one looking down.

Jisung stared at you like he was afraid to blink. His hand paused mid-stroke, precum glistening at the tip of his cock, just inches from your face now, and it pulsed like it was begging.

Your voice cracked when you spoke.

“Can I touch?”

He didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t pretend. Didn’t try to play it cool.

“Please,” he rasped. “Please—fuck, yes.”

You let your hands settle on his thighs.

His skin was warm—burning, almost—and tight with tension, muscles flexing the moment your fingers touched down. You brushed your thumbs along the inside, slow, barely a graze, just to feel him twitch. His breathing stuttered. He spread his legs wider for you without thinking.

Your gaze flicked up.

He was watching you like he didn’t dare move. Lips parted. Hair falling into his eyes. His cock—long, flushed, already slick at the tip—rested in his palm, twitching as if it could sense how close your mouth was.

You leaned in.

Close enough to breathe him in. The heat. The faint salt of sweat. That desperate, sweet scent of skin and arousal thick in the air between you.

You didn’t touch him. Not yet.

You just let your breath ghost over the head of his cock—so close you saw his stomach clench, his hips give a tiny jerk, like his body was chasing it without his permission.

“Shit—” he hissed, eyes fluttering. “Don’t… don’t tease me…”

But that was the point, wasn’t it?

Your fingers trailed up slowly from his thighs. One hand ghosted along the underside of his cock—light as a whisper—just to feel how hot and heavy he was. The other settled at the base, curling just under his fist.

“Let go,” you said softly.

He obeyed instantly.

And fuck—he was even thicker than you’d realized. Heavy in your hand, flushed an angry red at the tip. A pearl of precum slipped down and gathered at the ridge. You smeared it with your thumb, watched him shudder.

“Oh my God,” he breathed. “Your hands—fuck—feels so good, I—”

You stroked him slowly. Testing the pace. Watching how his breath hitched when you twisted just right near the head.

“Like that?” you asked, voice low, breathless.

He nodded, hard, biting back a moan. “Yeah—fuck, yeah. Just like that, baby—oh my god—”

Your thighs pressed together.

That word—that filthy little baby tossed between his gasps—shot straight through you. Your body reacted before your brain caught up. Something wild and molten curled low in your belly. You wanted more. Needed more.

And just when he started to tense—hips twitching, jaw clenched, abs tightening like he was right there, right at the edge—You didn’t ask.

You leaned in and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock—wet, hot, open-mouthed—and the sound Jisung made was wrecked.

“Holy fuck—!”

His hips bucked. His hand flew to your hair, not pulling, just grabbing—like he needed to ground himself before he lost control.

You moaned around him, and that sound—your mouth full, your throat humming against his length—made him whimper. Whimper. His legs trembled under your touch, and his cock pulsed against your tongue like it couldn’t take it.

“Jesus—fuck, you’re gonna make me cum—your mouth, your fucking mouth, it’s so—so good—fuck, you’re perfect—please—”

The praise poured out of him like he couldn’t stop it. Rough, breathy, honest. And it did something to you—made your own body throb, your core clench tight, made you need to hear more.

You pulled back slowly, your lips dragging along the shaft until only the tip remained in your mouth. You swirled your tongue there, tasted the salt of him, then took him back in deeper—slow this time, deliberate. You wanted to feel him fall apart.

And he did.

All under your touch. All under your mouth. All while chanting your name like a prayer.

He was trying so hard to hold it together.

His fingers threaded into your hair, trembling, not yanking but gripping, like he was hanging on for dear life. His thighs tensed beneath your hands, hips lifting in these tiny, uncontrolled jerks—like his body wanted to thrust deeper but knew it shouldn’t.

You had him.

Utterly undone.

You hollowed your cheeks and pulled him in deeper, inch by inch, until he hit the back of your throat and let out a strangled, helpless moan. His head dropped back, his jaw slack, his whole body one long, desperate line of tension ready to snap.

“Fuck—fuck, baby—” he gasped, hips twitching. “You’re gonna—shit, I’m close, I’m so—please—”

His voice cracked on the last word.

And it was the way he said it—so wrecked, so overwhelmed—that made your stomach clench and your cunt throb. You moaned around him, soft and deep, and the vibration shot straight through him like a jolt. His grip in your hair tightened, not rough but urgent.

“I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna cum—”

You didn’t stop.

Didn’t pull back.

You sucked harder, swallowed around him, your tongue pressing and circling just under the head, and that was it—that was all it took.

His whole body snapped taut, a raw, broken sound tearing from his throat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—yes, yes—don’t stop—oh my god—baby, I’m—”

And he came.

Hot, thick pulses on your tongue. His cock twitching in your mouth. His moans full and shameless, high and messy and real. His hips jerked up into your mouth once, twice—then stilled, trembling, as the last of it spilled down your throat.

You swallowed.

You swallowed all of him—slow, deliberate—and when he realized, when he felt you take every drop without flinching, he groaned so loud it bordered on a cry.

“Holy shit—fuck, your mouth—so good, so fucking good, I can’t—I can’t even think—”

He was panting, flushed to the ears, still barely holding onto reality as he stared down at you. His eyes were glassy, lips parted, hand still in your hair like he wasn’t ready to let go.

“You swallowed,” he whispered, voice wrecked and reverent. “You’re insane…”

You looked up at him, wiped the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, and smirked.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I did.”

And the look on his face—pure, unfiltered awe—made heat bloom all over again inside you.

He was still panting.

His chest rose and fell in shallow, trembling bursts, one arm draped loosely across the back of the couch, the other still tangled in your hair. His eyes stayed on you like he couldn’t believe you were real—on your mouth, your flushed cheeks, your breathless stare.

And then something shifted.

His gaze darkened.

He reached out, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth, smearing the slick you hadn’t managed to catch. His jaw clenched like he was fighting something—until his voice finally broke through, raw and low.

“Let me make you feel good too.”

It wasn’t a suggestion. It wasn’t even a question.

It was a need.

You barely nodded before he surged forward and kissed you.

Messy, urgent, nothing sweet about it. He tasted like desperation and salt and you, tongue sliding into your mouth like he wanted to taste himself on your tongue. His hands were everywhere—your waist, your ass, sliding down the front of your sweatpants.

And then they were off—tugged down and discarded with a groan against your lips. His fingers dragged over your inner thighs, then up between your legs, cupping you through the soaked fabric of your thong.

“Fuck,” he breathed, pulling back just enough to look down. “You’re drenched.”

You bit your lip.

His fingers pressed in slow circles over your clit, teasing, watching the way your body tensed and arched into him.

But then he growled—growled—and the sound of it made your stomach flip.

“I need to taste you.”

You didn’t even get a chance to answer.

He stood, grabbed your hips, and spun you around like you weighed nothing, bending you forward over the arm of the couch. Your hands flew to the cushions, bracing yourself, heart pounding like a war drum as you felt him kneel behind you.

And then—The soft snap of your thong being pushed aside.

The hot breath against your soaked pussy.

Then the first lick.

You gasped—loud and sudden—hips jolting forward as his tongue flattened against you from behind, dragging slow and filthy from your entrance to your clit. He groaned like he was tasting heaven, like your pussy was the only thing in the world he’d ever wanted.

And he devoured you.

Tongue dipping inside, licking up everything, sucking your clit between his lips with wet, obscene sounds that filled the room. His hands held your ass apart, thumbs digging into your skin, keeping you open for him as he licked and sucked like a man starved.

You moaned. You bucked. You whimpered his name, and he just kept going, humming into your pussy like he wanted you to lose your mind.

“You taste so fucking good,” he growled against you. “I could eat you for hours. You’re—fuck—you’re perfect.”

And the worst part? You believed him.

Every moan, every stroke of his tongue, every filthy word dragged you closer and closer to the edge.

You barely had time to recover from the next stroke of his tongue before you felt his hand—hot, slick—slide between your thighs again. Two fingers dipped in easily, coated in your wetness, and then pushed inside you.

You gasped—loud—your back arching off the couch.

“Fuck—Jisung—”

He groaned behind you, mouth still pressed against the curve of your ass. “That’s it,” he rasped. “Let me hear you.”

His fingers curled inside you, then pulled back—before slamming in again, harder, faster, just the right angle that made your thighs shake.

And then—his hand fisted in your hair.

He pulled you up from the couch, your spine curved and chest heaving, held upright only by his grip in your hair and the strength of his arm around your waist. You were open and exposed, completely at his mercy, and he was relentless.

His fingers pounded into you now—wet and fast, every thrust hitting that spot so perfectly you couldn’t stop the sounds that spilled out.

“Fuckfuckfuck—don’t stop—Jisung—!”

“You’re close,” he growled against your ear, his hips pressed flush against your ass now, and you could feel it—his cock, rock hard, straining against his boxers. “Cum for me. Just like that, baby. I wanna feel you soak my fingers.”

You did.

Your orgasm slammed into you with no warning—your whole body clenched around him, thighs trembling, mouth open in a scream that you couldn’t even muffle. He didn’t stop, didn’t slow down, just kept fucking you through it, holding you upright with one hand in your hair like he wanted to feel every second of you unraveling.

And then—he slipped his fingers out.

You sagged in his grip, panting, barely able to process anything before you heard it—The obscene sound of him sucking his fingers clean.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, turning your head, dizzy from the high.

He smirked, eyes dark and blown wide. “You taste like heaven.”

Then—he brought his fingers to your mouth.

You opened without thinking.

He pushed them in—two wet fingers coated with your slick—and you sucked on them, moaning at the taste of yourself, the feel of him watching you like he was losing his mind.

That’s when you felt it—his cock, thick and achingly hard, grinding slow against your lower back through the fabric.

“Please,” you whimpered, eyes fluttering shut as your hips rocked back into him. “Please, Jisung—fuck me—I need it, I need you inside me—right now.”

He let out the dirtiest groan you’d ever heard.

“Fuck. You’re gonna kill me.”

His hands were already at his waistband.

You felt him behind you—his bare skin hot against your back, the soft sound of clothing hitting the floor, his low growl as he palmed his cock and lined himself up.

You didn’t even have time to brace yourself before he pushed in.

One long, thick, deep thrust.

Your mouth dropped open—silent at first, then a desperate moan as he filled you, stretched you open, bottomed out with a low, guttural fuck whispered right against your neck.

He didn’t move.

Just stayed there, buried inside you to the hilt, both of you trembling from the way it felt—your walls fluttering around him, his cock twitching like he was already close again.

“You’re—so tight,” he rasped. “So wet, so fucking perfect—I can’t—I can’t hold back.”

You didn’t want him to.

“Please,” you whispered, barely able to breathe. “Don’t.”

And then he moved.

He pulled out almost entirely and slammed back in so hard the couch jolted beneath you. Your hands scrabbled for purchase, your body folding over the armrest again as he started to fuck you like a man possessed—pounding into you with brutal, hungry thrusts that left you gasping and crying out with every one.

Your name fell from his lips like a prayer.

“You take me so good—fuck—so fucking good—look at you—”

You were whining, begging, pressing back into him like you couldn’t get enough.

And neither could he.

He grabbed your hips tighter, drove in deeper, every slap of his skin against yours loud and filthy and perfect. The wet sounds of your pussy, still dripping from your last orgasm, echoed through the room with each punishing thrust.

Then—his hands slid under you, around your waist, and he lifted you.

You gasped as he flipped you onto your back on the couch, your body weightless for a second, legs still spread and slick and aching. He pulled you to the edge with no effort, his hands gripping your thighs, and then—

He sank back into you.

So deep.

So slow.

You both moaned, your head falling back against the cushions, his forehead pressing against yours as he stayed there—deep, full, unmoving—for just a breath.

Then he kissed you.

And everything spun.

Because it wasn’t just rough, or greedy, or sex-crazed.

It was… something else.

Soft. Warm. Needy.

Like he couldn’t believe you were letting him have this—have you.

His hips started moving again—long, slow, grinding thrusts that pushed so deep you swore you could feel him in your throat.

You wrapped your legs around him, arms clutching at his back as his praises started spilling.

“So good,” he whispered between kisses. “You feel so good—I never wanna stop—fuck—I could stay in you forever.”

You whimpered, tears prickling behind your eyes from how full you felt.

From how much it was.

And still, he didn’t stop.

He kept fucking you like he meant every word. Deep. Full. Worshipful. Like he was trying to make you feel how much he wanted you.

And when he whispered, “Let me make you cum again, baby,” you didn’t doubt for a second that he would.

He was still kissing you—slow, deep, open-mouthed kisses that tasted like sweat and lust and something you couldn’t name.

And then you felt it—his hand moving between your bodies, his fingers sliding down, pressing into your swollen clit with just enough pressure to make your hips jerk off the couch.

“Fuck—Jisung—”

“Shh,” he whispered, breath ragged against your cheek. “You can take it. Just a little more. Gonna make you cum again.”

He kept fucking you—long and deep, each thrust hitting that sweet spot that already had your body coiled so tight. But now—now he was rubbing slow, firm circles on your clit, perfectly in sync with the rhythm of his hips, like he knew exactly how to unravel you.

And you were unraveling.

Your legs shook where they were wrapped around his waist. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, your head tipping back, mouth open in a breathless string of moans that only got louder, needier.

You couldn’t hold back anymore.

“I’m—fuck—I’m gonna cum—”

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice dropping to a wrecked, desperate rasp. “Cum for me. I wanna feel you—wanna feel you squeeze my cock while I’m inside you—”

And then you did.

Your orgasm tore through you like a wave—violent and shattering and so fucking good it almost hurt. You clenched around him, body arching, thighs locking tight around his hips as your voice cracked on his name.

That was it for him.

He let out a sound—deep, guttural, almost pained—and his rhythm shattered completely.

“Oh fuck—fuck—I’m gonna cum—fuck, baby—”

He grabbed your hips with both hands, slammed into you harder, faster, chasing his release like a man starved. No finesse. No restraint. Just raw, desperate thrusts, every inch of him buried deep and pulsing with the need to lose himself in you.

“I can’t—I’m gonna—fuck, I’m cumming—”

He buried himself deep with a final thrust and spilled inside you, head falling to your neck, breath hot and heavy against your skin as his entire body trembled.

You felt it.

Every twitch.

Every pulse.

Every drop.

His arms wrapped around you, holding you close like he never wanted to pull out, like he couldn’t believe this was real.

And neither could you.

The room was quiet except for your breathing—shallow, uneven—as you lay sprawled on the couch, Jisung’s weight still half on top of you, his cock softening inside you, the heat of his skin flush against yours.

His lips grazed your collarbone.

Gentle. Unhurried.

You blinked up at the ceiling, dazed, your body boneless and trembling from the sheer intensity of it all. His hands smoothed over your sides, slow and soothing, like he wasn’t ready to let go yet.

Neither were you.

He kissed your shoulder. Then your jaw. Then your cheek.

And finally, his voice—low, a little shy now—broke the silence.

“Hey…”

You hummed, not sure you could find actual words yet.

“I gotta ask.” His breath hitched like he was trying to play it cool, but you could hear the edge beneath it. “That video… who was it for?”

You blinked.

A small laugh slipped from your lips—not mocking, just a little sheepish.

“No one,” you said softly, turning your head to meet his eyes. “Seriously. Sometimes I just… make stuff like that. For me. To indulge, you know? It’s kind of a thing.”

His eyes widened, a sharp exhale leaving his chest. “You’re telling me there’s… more?”

You gave him a wicked little smile, cocking a brow.

“A lot more.”

Jisung groaned dramatically and dropped his forehead to your shoulder.

“God. God. I’ve been your best friend this whole time, and you’ve just been walking around with an entire vault of jerk-off material like that?”

You laughed—really laughed this time—and he grinned into your skin.

“Well…” you murmured, dragging your fingers through his messy hair, “if it makes you feel any better, I really, really liked the real thing more.”

He lifted his head, eyes searching yours, open and raw.

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah. So much, I’m hoping this isn’t gonna be a one-time thing. Otherwise… I might go completely insane.”

Jisung’s lips curled into a slow, devastating smile as he leaned down and kissed you—lazy, deep, a little smug.

“Anything you want,” he whispered against your lips. “I’m right there with you.”

Then his palm slid down your thigh, fingers tracing between your legs, just to feel the mess he made.

“This pussy,” he said softly, reverently, “might just become my new obsession.”

Your laugh turned breathless again when he kissed your neck, already stirring something low and dangerous between your legs.

“You know you’re gonna have to prove that, right?” you murmured.

He smirked, pressing a kiss to your jaw. “Oh, I will.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: Yo! Han Jisung is after my sanity 😭 i saw an edit of him moaning and I could not get it out of my head, also i dont know why i get so dirtyyyyy writing his smut 🥹 that being said, this will definitely have a second part so wait for that! And i know i owe yall alot of second parts but chilllll 😭 i only have one delulu brain and twi hands!!! Its coming!!!

Taglist: @tsunderelino @innieandsungielover @inlovewithstraykids @reignessance @jeonismm @sttnficrecs @herejusttemporary @krssliu @kenia4 @miilquetoast @thackery-blinks @leeminho-hall @suga-is-bae @butterflydemons @inejghafawifesblog @malunar28replies @minchanlimbo @mal-lunar-28 @breakmeofftbr @itvenorica124 @slut4junho @deepblueocean97 @thequibbie @yaorzu-blog @imagine-all-the-imagines @just-bria @mischievousleeknow @ifyxu @melanctton @thelostprincessofasgard @binniebb @sillylittlecat1 @darkwitchoferie @m-325 @headfirstfortoro @imseungminsgf @ihrtlix @vernorica123 @hwangjoanna @swordswallower2000 @niki007 @yxna-bliss @firelordtsuki @justwonder113 @mbioooo0000 @sammhisphere @nebugalaxy

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lacobus · 28 days ago

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nsfw ; mark & his favorite cam streamer

tags: reader is afab but not really explicitly gendered, kind of exposition heavy, reader is a cam girl/cam boy, light discussion of porn, and masturbation

it's not really surprising mark jerks off. he's just a person, not a paragon of saintly attitude and disposition.

he can be mean, he can be pretty disgusting sometimes, it's what most people are occasionally. in the normal ways— like forgetting their manners from time to time or cracking an insensitive joke.

he's not innocent, not really anyway. he knows his way around the internet. knows which accounts on twitter to look at. its all part of the routine he's developed over the influx of hormones simmering within himself.

mark knows what he likes and what he absolutely can't stand. he always skips videos with excessive moaning, and refuses to watch hardcore kink videos because he's not really ready or interested.

he skims through couple videos sometimes and gets a little miffed at the fact that he's getting off to kissing and missionary. other times he just browses. it feels more like a chore than an outlet. he's probably gone miles and miles by just clicking and browsing. scrolling, if he's on his phone.

eventually he comes to find cam sites— they're pretty straightforward and in-your-face generally speaking. he's not even that far from the banner and almost a dozen of people are scantily clad or naked.

your video is somewhere down the line. you're not really in lingerie, just in an oversized t-shirt and panties. they hug your figure nicely, and you're just groping yourself.

mark is early, he learns, and you usually like to stretch out the teasing foreplay part of your streams. taking your sweet time to remove your shirt, and either peel or kick off your panties. moving slow like molasses.

part of what mark enjoys seeing in porn is probably authenticity. there's always a form of vunerability in porn. in the way people grind and moan and keen. he likes to see someone who's honestly enjoying themselves and you do exactly just that.

flick your nipples and laugh, muttering that it doesn't really do anything for you, but that it probably turns someone on. it's charming, and incredibly attractive in a way mark isn't very familiar with.

he's half hard when you finally decide to use your toy— tentatively, just one. set aside usually, just within reach so when you decide you're sick of preening for the camera you can finally get off.

the show isn't fancy, but mark cums anyway. he's satisfied when he does. you're still writhing and mewling when he tucks himself back into his boxers.

he likes things simple, that way they're easy to understand. mark commits your username to memory and drops by whenever he feels like it.

mark learns that you like to interact with your chat sometimes. a swarming insatiable mess of horny idiots all vying for your attention no matter how short it might be.

he usually forgets about the chatter. he isn't paying attention to random people comment about how pretty your ass is or how they want you to stick your tongue out when you cum, all he focuses on is fucking his fist to the rhythm of your bucking hips and cumming in sync.

it usually goes that way, until he's watching you entertain questions from viewers. you get a few strange ones that you don't really pay mind to, but someone starts the conversation of people you'd fuck.

of course celebrities make the list, but mark doesn't expect the conversation to talk about heroes.

"immortal?" you laugh, a little out of breath as you slowly work your way up and down a dildo. "too old, and he's not cute!"

mark grimaces, the mental image isn't cute either. a selfish and sick part of him refuses to share, but he doubts immortal even knows how to look up pornsites. he probably pages through magazines or something.

you go quiet for a bit and squint at the screen, "of course! why wouldn't i? invincible is ripped like hell."

mark's face grows hot, incredibly flattered. he gets hard when you spout out little comments about how you'd lick his neck and let him fuck your throat sore.

mark's liking for you had been mostly out of how pretty you are and how easy it is to watch you come apart. but now he knows how big of a fan you are for invincible, and he's never gonna pass up on watching you ever.

#who ; mark #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson smut #lowkey he'd spend a bit to get you to moan invincible #p.s. sorry this is a little all over the place LMFAOOO

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sundives · 2 months ago

Text

Magnets ✶ lhs.

Either way, you have me at my wit's end.

Summary: Lee Heeseung, according to your sort of college crushes, falls under the category of the unreachable. One being he's a bandmate and friend of your younger brother, (which automatically means he's off-limits), and two, he's popular, intelligent, and every girl's dream guy, which still validates your sort even if we cross out the first reason. And yet, a small part of you wondered, if Lee Heeseung can be just at an arm's length.

And somewhere, in the middle of your junior year, a mystic force somehow pulled you and Heeseung together. A push and pull of feelings that had you wondering if he’s really unreachable. (or not, you just don’t want to assume really.)

✰ Song Inspiration: Magnets by Niki, Sway covered by Beabadoobee (original by Bic Runga), Take A Chance With Me by Niki

✰ Word Count: 25.6k

✰ Tags: Tooth-rotting fluff, best friend’s older sister, kinda realization of feelings, jealousy, drunken confessions ig, a bit of angst, smut! Yang Jungwon as reader’s younger brother, band au! College settings, classmates! Bar parties, mentions of alcohol. Heeseung is such a natural flirt (and is an epitome of mixed signals.) He is also in a band, mentions Enhypen members, mentions of kpop idols, Yunah and Karina as your best friends. Jungwon calls reader “noona.” He’s also so protective that he can be an asshole sometimes. Reader is kinda delusional but in denial but I get her. Heeseung has a high-alcohol tolerance for the sake of the plot. Switch of POV at some point of the story.

✰ CW: Smut! Plot with little porn, p in v sex, unprotected sex lmao (pls don’t) drunk sex, creampie, oral (f and m receiving), aggressive making out, mentions of blood, fingering, squirting, light spanking, multiple orgasms, names (pretty, baby), grinding, cowgirl, aftercare!!! Multiple smut scenes because I’m practicing for my next fic but still shitty. Hope you enjoy though.

✰ Asul’s note: It’s Heeseung’s story this time! Third installment of Arcanum series. I also kinda made Enha members same-aged in this series, (hyung line are juniors while maknae line are sophomores, and idk why I am telling y’all this now lmao.) This one is lighter compared to my other stories hehe. Some talks about “The Virgin Suicides” because I love that novel sm and I’m going to nerd the hell out of it.

And kinda spoiler? But the self-composed song of Arcanum is actually this song! (give love to the og singer pls) I just remembered Heeseung covered this during Fate Concert in New Clark City (and he did posted a short cover of it WTF.) The song and lyrics matched the story that’s why I included it here. Anyways, enjoy this not proofread, tooth-rotting story.

You can check the other member's stories here: Jay | Jake | Sunghoon | Jungwon

✰ Taglist: @kiikiisblog @chuuyaobsessed @k1ttyjwon @bussolares @rosepetals09 @m1kkso @dearestdreamies @dreamiestay @cloud-lyy @iamliacamila @heeseungsgf26 @dulcetnostalgia

According to your list, you have two types of crushes.

The first ones are the reachables. Meaning, your crushes that you can potentially date or maybe pull if you’re lucky.

The first one being Jake Sim, who’s an orgmate of yours. You two only started as a staff for the Student Aid Organization during your first years in college, assisting students with their grievances. It wasn’t until Jake became the vice president of the said organization while you became his executive assistant, wherein you two became much closer. Jake was the ideal boyfriend. He was smart, good-looking, and fun to be with. You might have a chance with him if he reciprocates your small crush on him.

The other one is Lee Chanyoung, a sophomore who is the rookie of Decelis University’s swimming team. He’s tall, handsome, but was a shy kid that you interviewed back when you were part of Decelis Publications. You remembered flustering him with your compliments, making the poor kid blush hard. You don’t mind dating him if only your interaction with him becomes frequent, but for now, he’s just an eye candy crush.

Then, there are the unreachable ones. Your crushes who will forever remain in the crush-zone. Those crushes of yours that you had 0.0001% chance to date with, and so what? It’s just a crush, a small admiration to them.

Like Kang Taehyun. The most popular student in your department. He just happens to be the president of the Education Department’s student council. He holds a good reputation among his peers. Friendly and has a good aura around him. You had a few interactions with him and the rumors about his kindness exceeded you. Despite that, he remains (and will remain) unreachable due to the fact that he has a girlfriend. — you don’t want to ruin a relationship of course.

Then, there’s Lee Heeseung. The one that you considered as the most unreachable crush of yours.

There’s not enough words to describe Lee Heeseung, but he was everything. That man is everyone’s dream guy. Considering that he’s been a classmate of yours since freshman year, it’s undeniable that he’s an intelligent student. Considered as one of your department’s top students.

Aside from that, he’s like Decelis University’s Troy Bolton. Heeseung lives a double life of being part of your department’s basketball team and playing in a band. While Decelis’ official basketball team tries hard to recruit him, Heeseung refuses to join because he knows that he’ll have to dedicate every minute of his time for it. Meaning it has to be his top priority and nothing else.

And everyone knows why. Heeseung can’t leave his band. How can he when he’s the one who formed the band and is basically the center of it? Lee Heeseung just happens to be the vocalist and guitarist of the band Arcanum, a university band that he formed along with some other students, that includes your younger brother — which leads you to another reason why he’s unreachable.

Your younger brother, Yang Jungwon was Arcanum’s drummer. His passion in music had convinced him to join the band, befriending his seniors and forming a bond with them through making music.

That’s when you found yourself as the older sister who comes home to her house that served as a band practice for Arcanum. Perks of living in a house just a few blocks near the university.

Heeseung being Jungwon’s friend automatically meant he was off-limits since both you and Jungwon found it weird dating his friends, (in vice versa, so does the thought of Jungwon dating your friends.) Even though you and Heeseung were classmates first, and somewhere there, you had a crush on Heeseung first before he became friends with Jungwon, you decided that he’s automatically off-limits the moment Arcanum was formed.

Still, in your mind, even if Heeseung wasn’t Jungwon’s friend, he is still unreachable.

Heeseung’s aura and charisma can be seen from the way he controls the stage up to how he presents himself in court and classroom. He’s proud of it, and can be defined untouchable like the rest of his bandmates.

He’s like a star that is far from your reach. Hundreds of girls would die to be his girlfriend. There’s not a day where he receives confessions. But Heeseung would just laugh it off, rejecting it with a kind tone and apologies, and everyone knows why: Lee Heeseung isn’t looking for a relationship at the moment, which crushes every girl’s dream of becoming his.

And that sort of includes you, but you know that you’re far from becoming Heeseung’s girlfriend. There were prettier, curvier, and even smarter girls who got rejected by Heeseung. That’s why you know it’ll never cross his mind to even spare a glance at you — his friend’s older sister.

You’re decent, average grades, and probably being an independent sister who looks after her younger brother is the only thing that you can brag about. Still, that doesn’t make you stand out of the crowd. That’s why you’re long convinced that Heeseung wouldn’t even notice you, hence making him more unreachable.

Yet, there has always been a small part inside you, wondering — probably yearning, if Heeseung can still be reachable for you.

Second semesters are always hell. For some reason, you feel like there’s a curse in the second semester because the course subjects always feel heavy and draining as if it’s challenging you to give up before the academic year ends.

“This project will take about 60% of your midterm grades, so I want everyone to be crucial in this paper,” and to make it worse, you choose an elective that demands more than your major subjects. A straight thin line forming on your lips as you jotted down the instructions that’s currently flashed on the tv screen.

“You can choose your own partner in this project, but you can also opt to do it solo, just kindly inform the class beadle and have her send me the list by the end of the day, any questions?” You stared at your notes. Although the paper analysis will be heavy for you, you’ll rather do it solo than do it with someone who’ll probably slack off and leave you to do all the work.

The professor dismissed the class. Everyone was scurrying on their desk, eager for lunch while you took your time putting down your things inside your bag, even grabbing your phone to check any message from your friends that you didn’t notice the figure approaching you.

“Y/n hey,” you felt someone tapping you back and as you turned around, you saw Heeseung standing in front of you. You only stared at him and his boyish smile while his hands were in his slack’s pockets. His backpack swinging on his right arm while he had his hairstyle like he just messily brushed it using his hand and yet, it doesn’t look like a mess.

God, you always forgot how handsome Heeseung was up close, but that's not what you had in your mind right now.

“Hi,” you said, barely audible. Confusion got into you since this is the first time Heeseung approached you.

“Can we be partners for the project?” he asked, and it took you a minute to process what he just said.

“Why?” you immediately blurted out, hopefully it didn’t come as offensive as you intended it to be. Just surprised.

“Well, you’re the only one I’m kinda close with here,” Heeseung pointed out, and that made you confused. “And you’re good at this kind of project.”

Now the second sentence made sense. “Lee Heeseung, I’m not going to carry your ass in this project.”

Heeseung’s eyes widened, “wait, that’s not what I meant. What I’m trying to say is that I trust you not to give us low grades, we’ll work together of course.”

You only blinked. Together. For the years you and Heeseung had been classmates, this is probably the first time you and Heeseung become partners for a project. Sometimes, you two do end up in a group but this one’s different. It’s just going to be the two of you. Alone. And the fact that he asked you to be his partner had your heart going crazy.

“You can’t do it alone? Like, genuinely?” you asked once again.

Heeseung looks away embarrassed, “have you seen me reading a whole novel? I’ll doze off before I can go to the second page. Plus I think two heads are better than one.”

You looked away. A part of you is panicking inside. Screaming “Emergency!” the more you interact with him, the more you’re going to be convinced that he’s reachable. But another part of you is screaming, “go get that bag!” this is your chance! You shouldn’t turn it down.

“Fine. This one’s a month-long project, the deadline is during the examination period but I prefer passing it a week before our exam so that I can focus on my other subjects,” you explained. “Is that okay with you?”

In the end, your crush on him is bigger than your rationality. Brain short-circuiting and just convincing yourself that this is a good idea.

“All good for me — oh right, we have a band practice in your house later after class, we can meet up there so that we can choose what novel we are going to analyse and distribute the task, how’s that sounds?” he suggested.

See this is why Heeseung is such a dream guy. He knows how to balance his academics, even with the hectic basketball practice and band practice, he can still find time to prioritise his studies and even acing it out.

You hate that he’s so admirable yet out of your reach, and even though he’s standing in front of you, asking you to be his project partner, you can still feel the barrier between the two of you.

“Fine, but I might go home a bit late, I have dinner with my friends.” that was the only thing that you said before grabbing your bag. “Is there anything else that you need?”

“Nothing else, I got the instructions on my notes too. So, see you later?” Heeseung smiles.

“See you later Heeseung,” you only said, trying your best to act nonchalantly even though your heart’s going to explode any minute.

“Oh right, eat well! Bye!” and with that, Heeseung leaves you alone there standing, caught-off guard with his words.

What the actual fuck. You cursed internally. His words loop in your mind until you’ve met with your friends.

“Eat well!? Girl! You should eat a lot, not spend your lunch with iced coffee!” your best friend Karina, shrieks.

The three of you are at some small coffee shop outside Decelis for lunch. Of course, you’ll have to report your interaction with Heeseung to your friends, who were almost celebrating because of it.

“If he says that to you, then he should’ve given you money to buy your lunch so that you’ll eat well,” Yunah added, almost laughing.

“Stop it guys, you two are being too loud,” you said in defeat, but the faint blush on your cheeks gives off the fact that you were flustered. “Okay fine, I’ll buy a sandwich and fries.”

“Oh Heeseung’s impact~ I mean if my crush told me that, I’ll buy myself food too,” Karina teases.

You could only roll your eyes in annoyance. Standing up from your seat to buy some food for you — and not because Heeseung told you to eat well, but because you know that iced coffee wouldn’t suffice.

You returned to your table with a tray of selected savory breads instead. Karina and Yunah are still eyeing you teasingly, which makes you cautious all of the sudden.

“Have you ever thought about why he approached you to become his partner for the project?” Yunah asked.

“He did say I’m the only one he’s closed with in our section,” you explained.

“Close? Since when are you guys close? He’s much closer to Jungwon than you,” Karina rebutted.

Karina wasn’t lying. You and Heeseung aren't close. He’s the only one you interacted the least out of Arcanum. And whenever you think about it, it’s probably because your romantic crush on him makes him intimidating to you.

“Okay? Well at least we know each other?” you weren’t sure why Heeseung did approach you, and you were holding yourself to not jump into any other conclusions. “It’s just a project guys, it’s not like he’s asking me out on a date.”

“See, what if that project of yours will lead to that conclusion —”

“You guys got to stop feeding into my delusions, I’m still not going to date him, he’s Jungwon’s friend,”

“And if he doesn’t?” Karina asked.

“I told you guys this about a hundred times, Heeseung’s not looking for a relationship at the moment, means he’s not serious about commitments, while I prefer committed relationship,” you explained further.

“Okay and? You might be the girl that’ll make him commit,” Yunah added.

“Guys oh my god, stop enabling me! You two are just making it worse!” you frustratedly laughed, making the two of them laugh.

“But I’m still suspicious about Heeseung, you need to update us girl!” Karina eagerly said. “My bet is that Heeseung does have other intentions on approaching you,”

“This is nothing guys, I swear.” you casually said to them, even though deep inside you wanted to trust your friends’ words. Because, what if really? There’s a reason why Heeseung approached you all of the sudden?

The remaining afternoon classes went on. Reports, lessons, and recitations were done with ease even though you almost dozed off in one subject. The afternoon slowly darkens, with the orange sky welcoming you as you step outside your department building.

You’ve met up with Karina and Yunah to have early dinner at a small local eatery outside Decelis University. The sun had completely set but the three of you remained at the eatery, spending a few hours gossiping and talking shit about your classmates. Later then, you three decided to leave the place and opt for frozen yoghurt as dessert.

Yunah bid goodbye first, since her dormitory is just nearby the yoghurt place. While you and Karina walked towards the bus stop since she lives an hour away from Decelis. Conversations never stop until your friend’s bus arrives. You hugged her goodbye and as you watched the bus leave, that was your cue to go home.

Your home, the house that you grew up in, is located just a few blocks away from Decelis. Your parents were always away due to their job, rarely home only during important events like holidays or graduations, that’s why you’ve grown accustomed to its silence. Back when you were kids, you had servants attending you but now that you and Jungwon are old enough, it has always been the two of you now, learning independence while your parents aren’t around.

As you reached the front door of your house, you could already hear the faint sounds of their instruments, you glanced at your watch and noticed that it’s already seven-thirty in the evening, which means that they had started practice an hour ago. They’ll finish it around nine but that doesn’t mean they’ll be going home by that time. Sometimes they would play games or have snacks, either way, you’re used to it.

You open the door quietly enough to not disturb them, removing your shoes and placing it on the racks near the doorway before you make your entrance.

They continued practicing but all eyes darted on you, making you walk faster. A few nods and soft “hi” and “hello” were exchanged as you passed by them. It has become a usual scenario wherever you go home by the time they’re practicing, you’ll greet them out of decency.

You’re careful not to disturb them in their practice, that’s why you’re always in your room whenever they’re practicing. They do sometimes ask you to join them for dinner, which you’ll gladly do for free food. Usually, you’ll just sit there and listen to their conversation, but most of the time, they do include you in their talk. Jay and Sunghoon, being the most talkative, made you comfortable around them.

“Noona, we have pizzas on the dining table!” Jungwon shouted, not even stopping from playing the drums.

“I’m already full! I’ll be in my room!” you shouted before going upstairs towards your room. It wasn’t that soundproof but it was muffled enough for you not to be annoyed by the noise.

You took a short shower before changing into a fitted shirt and pajamas, wearing a zipped jacket in addition because you were feeling cold that night. As you sat on the edge of your bed, your mind was racing all of the sudden, remembering that Heeseung was supposed to meet you tonight for the project.

Coincidentally, a knock on the door startled you, and as you opened it, Jungwon was standing in front of you.

“Heeseung hyung is looking for you,” he said, and you can see the weird look he was giving you. Like a cat judging your whole existence.

“Did he tell you why?” you asked him.

“He said something about a project, you two were partners,” noticing the way Jungwon cringed when he said “partners.”

“Okay, just a minute,” you grabbed your iPad and phone before going out. Patting your brother’s shoulder before you push him to start walking. You two went downstairs where the boys are on the couch, drinking some colas and eating the cold pizza.

“Hi y/n, want some pizza?” Sunghoon offered as soon as you’re near them, but you only gave him a smile.

“Thanks still full,” you said as you approached Heeseung who immediately darted his attention to you.

“Should we start now?” he asked, round eyes staring at you. “I’m still eating.”

“Okay fine, why call me now then?” you crossed your arms.

He raised the bitten pizza before giving you a smile. “Want some?”

His bandmates looked at him like they were judging his whole existence. While you only stared at him for a second before a “Huh?” escapes your lips, immediately brushing it off with a soft laugh.

“I already told you guys, I’m still full.” you repeated. “I’ll be outside by the patio, just call me if we can start the project.”

Heeseung watched as you went towards the hallway where the backdoor of the patio is located, his stare went for long until he felt a crumpled tissue land on his face.

“The fuck was that?” Jungwon asked in a serious tone.

“I’m just offering her some food,” Heeseung shrugs. “You didn’t call out Sunghoon, he’s the first one to offer.”

“Well, if you had known that I offered her first, you wouldn’t have offered either,” Sunghoon rebutted.

“Maybe she’ll eat it if I’m the one who offered her food.” The vocalist said so casually that it made his bandmates laugh.

“Wow, that’s rich coming from you,” Jay taunted. “You guys aren’t even that close.”

“Yeah, that’s why it’s okay if I offer her pizza, we’re close,” Sunghoon added, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“Stop talking about my sister like I’m not here,” the youngest groans. “Really, hyungs, not only you, Heeseung hyung. Seriously —”

“Don’t date your sister, we know Jungwon, that’s like the first thing you said during our first practice in your house,” Jay answered.

“And you have nothing to worry about? I’m literally engaged while Jay’s still yearning for that mystery girl of his.” Sunghoon stated the obvious.

“Okay maybe you can get worried about Heeseung,” Jay grinned.

Heeseung immediately sat up from his seat, an awkward chuckle leaving his lips. “You don’t have to worry about me too, I am not looking for a relationship you know that.”

“Sure Hee, whatever floats your boat,” Jay mocks.

“Yeah sure, now if you excuse me, I’ll be going to the patio because y/n and I are going to discuss our project which is a novel analysis, and you have nothing to worry about Jungwon,” Heeseung explains, saluting mockingly to Jungwon who could only do nothing but watch his friend go towards the hallway where the backdoor was.

“Not going to stop him?” Sunghoon teased.

“I don’t want to be that annoying brother who’s too protective,” Jungwon replied, taking a sip on his drinks.

Jay lets out a sarcastic laughter. “You didn’t just fucking said that right now.”

Meanwhile, you're sitting peacefully on the long couch of your patio. Reviewing the instructions given by your professor when you heard the metal door creaking. Startled, you glanced at it and saw Heeseung leaning against the doorframe.

“So, our project?” he started, approaching you as he sat on the other chair, immediately, you fixed your position, sitting legs criss-cross as you tried to act as normal as possible even though your heart was racing, mind panicking internally.

You couldn’t even look at him for so long that you immediately scrolled through your iPad, trying to act serious even though you're palpitating inside. Is it the iced coffee you had for lunch or just the thought that Heeseung’s sitting near you? You don’t know but it’s not helping at all.

“Right, any suggestions on the novel we will be choosing? Prof. Jeon told us we can choose any novel that we wanted as long as we were able to make a good argument about why we chose it,” you explained, still eyeing your iPad where your notes were.

“Hmm good question, you choose our novel, I don’t even know what’s good or not,” Heeseung suggested.

That’s when you only look at him, “Heeseung, I told you I’m not going to carry you in this project.”

A nervous chuckle escaped his lips. “No, that’s not what I meant! You suggest a novel and I’m going to read it, even buy it for our project’s sake, and try my best to understand it. I’m just really not that great at this type of project so please help me with this one.”

You only blinked. Staring at him who’s pleading at you, which is funny because you never expect Heeseung — one of your department’s top students, to be failing in some areas.

“Okay but why did you even choose modern literature as an elective?” you asked suddenly confused.

“Ran out of slots in analytical economics.” Heeseung casually said. “Come on, don’t leave me with this one y/n, I can’t fail this elective.”

“I’m not, don't worry,” you laughed. “I’m just surprised that you’re not good at this one.”

Heeseung chuckles because of your statement. “What? What makes you think I excel in everything?”

You stopped for a second, “I mean — you’re one of our top students, Heeseung, that’s why.”

“Hey, I’m not that smart, I just study hard,” Heeseung nonchalantly said. “Going back to our topic, how about we go with your favorite novel?”

“Okay, no need to flaunt it,” you sarcastically remarked. “My favorite novel? It’s The Virgin Suicides.”

“Does this involve actions and stuff?”

You laugh at his words. “You really think a novel titled ‘The Virgin Suicides’ involves actions and stuff?”

“I’m just kidding! Watch the movie and sure, let’s go with that one.”

A chuckle of disbelief escapes your lips, “you’ve watched the movie?”

“Hey, it’s a Sofia Coppola movie.” Heeseung pointed out.

“So you’re a cinephile of sorts? Is your favorite movie American Psycho or some 1980s Korean independent film that has low budget but great cinematography?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes I do love watching movies but no, my favorite movie is Toy Story 3.”

Another laughter escapes your mouth, hearing Heeseung’s laughter made you forget the reason why you two were at that patio. You don’t know whether to believe his words or not, but hearing his soft laughter just made the butterflies in your stomach flutter so hard that you’re trying your best to conceal the fleeting feeling.

With the cold breeze of the summer night, along the thousands of stars in the night sky, made the atmosphere lighter. Brighter along with the soft yellow lights around your patio. Heeseung’s smile never left as he stared at you, which made your smile turn into a thin line.

So, this is what talking to your ultimate crush feels like. You thought. And for a moment, your heart stopped, realizing that this is too good to be true — making you snap from reality. That’s why you diverted back to the reason why you and Heeseung are talking in the first place.

Going back to your meeting, you two equally divided the parts. The project seems to be lighter now that your task has been divided. Heeseung suggested that you two should brainstorm after finishing the novel, which you mindlessly nodded, jotting down the deadlines you two made so that you can finish the project in no time.

“You know it’ll be interesting if we compare the movie adaptation to the novel,” Heeseung suggested as the two of you decided to finish the meeting. Going inside your house, but stopping midway in the hallway.

“You’re really dedicating your time for this project huh?” you teased. “I mean I don’t mind at all.”

“Oh great! We should watch it together, what do you think?”

“What —” you were caught-off guard. Did Heeseung just ask you to watch it together with him?

You became quiet for a moment. Recalling your friend’s words — how Heeseung has other intentions on why he approached you for the project. Is this the reason? You’ve got to be kidding because why would Heeseung ask you to watch The Virgin Suicides with him? For a project that’s only a novel analysis? There’s got to be another reason why.

But from the moment you were too quiet, too deep in your thoughts, a loud clearing of the throat snapped you out. You glanced and saw Jungwon raising an eyebrow at the two of you.

“Jay hyung and Sunghoon hyung had left a while ago,” Jungwon stated. “They said you’re taking your time with y/n.”

“Ah shit, now I have to commute back home,” Heeseung groans. “Sorry Won, we just want to make sure our project’s perfect and organized.”

Jungwon only shrugs before glancing at you — that’s when you remembered.

“I’m okay with it, let’s just do it after finishing the novel,” you answered Heeseung. “I think that concludes everything about our project.”

“Yeah sure, well thanks for your time y/n. I have to go now before Jungwon kicks me out,” Heeseung laughs.

“I really am about to,” Jungwon said with a glare.

Heeseung gives you a small smile and wave before walking towards Jungwon who only followed his friend, leaving you standing there, heart bursting out any moment.

You could only curse internally. You didn’t just fucking spent a few hours with your ultimate crush alone in your patio. God, your preconceived notion of him being everyone’s dream guy with all the brains and charisma is the tip of the iceberg. He just happens to be pathetic in some areas but at the same time, still knows the littlest details in niche topics. You want to curse the gods because why would they create such an ideal man but make him unreachable for you.

You could only stomp your feet out of frustration before calming yourself for a minute. Taking deep breaths, you decided to call it night, leaving the hallway and going upstairs when midway, your younger brother called you, watching him climb the stairs before standing next to you.

“So, you and Heeseung hyung —”

“Are partners for our elective project, nothing more, nothing less,” you replied immediately. “It’s normal Won, we’re classmates remember.”

“Just reminding you noona, about our agreement,” Jungwon heaves out a sigh. “Don’t want you to fall for Heeseung hyung, he kinda tends to give girls mixed signals.”

“Funny that you’re saying that when he’s a friend of yours,” you pointed out.

“He knows it himself too,” Jungwon shrugs.

“Don’t worry about it Won, I don’t think Heeseung finds me attractive though.” you answered, thinking that Arcanum sees you as ‘Jungwon’s older sister.’

“Hey! You’re pretty, what on earth are you talking about?” your younger brother immediately replied, seeing him all worked-up, you could only laugh as you pat his shoulders.

“You’re just saying that because we’re siblings,” you teased. “You don’t have to worry about anything Won, this is just a project. Okay, I’m kinda tired now, so let’s just go to sleep.”

The two of you went upstairs together, saying goodnight to each other before proceeding to go to each other’s room. The beaming silence makes you lost in your thoughts. You made your way towards your bed and as you lay down there, clutching on your iPad, the smile on your face never faded, heck it even grew wider at the thought that you have reasons to grow closer with Heeseung.

Of course, it’s still under the disguise of the fact that you two were project partners, but it’s a way to show to you that Heeseung is, somehow, reachable.

The next few weeks were nothing but a fast forward in your life.

You continue going on with your routine, with one sudden turn — the novel rests idly inside your bag. Rereading it for the project, and as you turn every page you wonder about your partner.

It halted to you that everything was actually for project purposes. You and Heeseung remained the same. The barrier between the two of you going back to the same height and him returning to your unreachable category — and you were okay with it, no more heart burns and an imaginative mind clouding your delusional self.

Of course, Heeseung continued coming over to your place. Their band practices went normal where you would just greet them with short conversations before you lock yourself in your room. No more private conversations and such, you can tell that Jungwon felt at ease, thinking what you and Heeseung had is just some academic collaboration.

But by the end of the week, you were surprised when Heeseung approached you.

“I’m like halfway through the novel and there’s a lot of scenes that were so important but weren't included in the film, we need to brainstorm that.” Heeseung told you.

“I thought you'd be the type to doze off before proceeding to the next page?” you teased.

“Well I need to lock in because I’m required to read it, but it's an interesting novel though,” he replied.

And just when you thought you'd be at peace. Heeseung asked you for a short brainstorming. “Alright, you choose when and what time since you’re the busy one here.”

“I’m thinking Saturday, it’s my free day. I literally just sleep and play the whole day, so I wouldn’t mind spending my free day with you.”

You tried your best to ignore his words. Cursing him internally because why does he always catch you off guard? You let out an awkward chuckle before glancing at him. “Okay, Saturday — wait, this Saturday right?”

Heeseung only nods. “Cool — uhm, what time and where?”

“Wait, how about we exchange numbers? So that we can contact each other.”

Woah. This is going to be the end of you. Lee Heeseung asking for your number? Now that’s a reach. You mindlessly nod, letting out a squeaky “sure” before grabbing your phone for him to type his number — same goes with him on your phone.

“There, I even put my photo there too,” Heeseung laughs, giving you back your phone.

“You’re fast, I would’ve put a meme photo on your contact list.” you only replied as you gave him back his phone. You glanced at his contact number wherein his selfie is already plastered on his contact photo. You can tell that he just took the photo just now and why the hell does he know his angle? Now you’re just frustrated because he’s too good with everything he does.

“You didn’t put a photo of yours,” Heeseung said, looking at the dull contact. “Come on, I’ll take a picture of you.”

And as if his words were like a spell, you only smiled in front of him as you held out a small peace sign. Heeseung smiles as he captures the photo, saving it as your contact photo.

“Cute, now, we match,” Heeseung flaunts his contact photo on you, which only made you chuckle. Trying so hard not to give his words meaning.

“Just tell me the details Heeseung, see you on Saturday,” you told him. “I have to go now, my friends are waiting for me.”

“See you! Stay safe!” he said, waving lightly as you left.

You wanted to scream. Really, you’re internally screaming. You need a pillow where you can muffle your screams but the only thing you could do is cover your face with your hands as you scream. Both Karina and Yunah looked at you teasingly as you dropped on your knees inside Yunah’s dorm room.

“No, why would he do that!? Why!?” you whined, as you dropped dead on the floor.

“See I told you he has intentions,” Karina pointed out.

“No! He can’t! Maybe he’s just nice —”

“Girl, are you serious? He said, and I quote “I don’t mind spending my free day with you.” and you’re going to conclude that he’s just nice!?” Yunah frustratedly shouted.

“Let’s break it down y/n. First, he asked you to meet him on a Saturday, his supposed free day but he doesn’t mind spending it with you. Then, he asked for your number, and he fucking took a photo of you! And what did he say afterwards? You two match? What the actual fuck because the last straw was him telling you “stay safe!” if that doesn’t conclude anything other than he’s interested in you, then I don’t know why you’re so in denial about it.” Karina summarized.

You could only let out a deep sigh. Karina had summarized EVERY hint that Heeseung may be into you, not until you remember — “But Jungwon said he’s a mixed signal type of guy, I just don’t want to jump into conclusions guys,” you immediately rebutted.

Both Yunah and Karina looked at you, a furrow of eyebrows and forehead creased before a disappointed “ahhh” escaped their lips.

“I mean, have you seen the guy? He has a natural flirty attitude! So the tendency is girls will really think that he’s interested in them — even me! But I don’t want to assume anymore but ugh!” that’s when you grabbed Yunah’s plushie and smashed your face right into it. Letting out a muffled scream for five seconds before looking at your friends once again with a pitied look.

“We get it, your long-time crush, who you always say is unreachable suddenly became reachable midway junior year, your crash-out is valid girl,” Yunah assured. “But don’t forget to address the other problem, he’s Jungwon’s friend.”

“Fuck, I forgot that one,” you only let out a breathy laugh. “Okay, I’m calmed now. This is just a crash out, just a small vent because Heeseung approached me and asked for my number. This is nothing guys! It’s totally nothing.”

“If he really is a mixed-signal giver, then just be careful y/n, those are the worst type of guys,” Karina huffs.

“I know, just don’t enable me anymore! You guys are at fault in this one too,” you pointed, making your best friends laugh.

When Saturday arrived, you and Heeseung agreed to meet at a small coffee shop near Decelis after lunch.

By the time you arrived at the coffee shop, you quickly noticed Heeseung near a corner. He’s reading the novel, even wearing glasses that you assumed were fake yet, it suits his visual. You only smile before walking towards him, who immediately felt your presence.

“Hi” he greets, smiling as you sit in front of him.

“Hi, have you ordered coffee?” you asked.

“I did, how about you?” he asked you back.

“Maybe later, since I’m still full from lunch,” you simply said. “Should we start our brainstorming or do you want to read more pages?”

Heeseung softly chuckles, closing the book as he looks at you. “No wonder this is your favorite novel, it’s a good novel to be honest.”

A skip in your heart was all you felt when he said those words. Smiling, you said, “really?” as Heeseung continued explaining to you why he liked the novel. You only sat there, watching Heeseung ramble about the novel — your favorite novel to be exact.

You know that this is only for academic purposes but hearing Heeseung talk about “The Virgin Suicides” tugs your heart with joy. It’s your favorite novel! It felt like he was getting to know you through your favorite stuff.

“How about you? Don’t tell me, you’re not reading it anymore because you’ve read it?” Heeseung suddenly blurted out, making you laugh softly before grabbing your bag, revealing your old copy which was full of anecdotes and bookmarks.

“Woah, that’s impressive,” he said, grabbing your copy and skimming through it.

“I have notes and have bookmarked my favorite quote and everything, but it’s not bad to reread it again in case I missed something,” you simply shrugged.

“Glad I chose you as my partner in this project,” Heeseung casually said and you only stared at him for a second before taking a sip on your coffee.

“Consider yourself lucky,” you stated, trying hard to conceal your flusteredness.

As Heeseung returned you the book, your phone suddenly started ringing. You immediately grabbed it from your bag, and saw that it was Jungwon who’s calling.

Heeseung watched as your soft expression turned into a different one in a span of your call with Jungwon, your tone rising higher than before like you were lecturing your younger brother. He only smiled as you rolled your eyes along with your frown.

“You owe me Jungwon,” you told your brother before ending up the call.

“You need to go now?” Heeseung asked.

“No, but maybe later. Jungwon and I were supposed to do groceries but he’s busy he told me, he’s going to cram a whole lesson for their quiz, and you know how he is when he’s too focused on reviewing,” you explained to Heeseung. “Now I have to go to the store alone —”

“I can come with you,” Heeseung volunteered.

“What? No, it’s okay Hee, I’ll just book a car on the way home —”

“Still, it’s heavy for you to carry it, come on, I don’t mind,” he insisted.

“You might end up going home late,” you rebutted, praying internally that he’d take the hint.

“And I don’t mind at all,” Heeseung stands up from his seat, and that’s when you realise that you’re doomed. “Come on now, we managed to make progress with our project. Let’s go get those groceries.”

The supermarket is just a bus stop away from Decelis. Once you two entered the busy store, Heeseung automatically pulled a cart which made you stop, glancing at him who only gave you a smile.

“Go on, I’ll just follow you behind,” Heeseung gestured and you only nod, going straight for the nearest aisle.

You’re not going to give meaning to everything. You chanted internally. It’s just Heeseung accompanying you to go on your weekly groceries run, because your brother ditched you. He’s just there to accompany you. Nothing more, nothing less.

But curse the movies and novels because you know groceries. They’re sweet and cute, and have a touch of domesticity in it. Catering to each other’s references, choosing what kind of cereal you two will buy or something.

The thought of you doing groceries with Heeseung had your imagination go so creative that you almost bumped to the fruit stand. If it wasn’t Heeseung who pulled you immediately, you would’ve knocked down the pyramid of oranges.

“Careful there,” Heeseung laughs. “Going to buy some fruits?”

“Maybe some bananas since Jungwon likes snacking on them — oh, strawberries too.” you awkwardly walked away from his touch and proceeded to the selection of fruits, eyeing on the fresh looking ones.

Heeseung could only stare at you as your brows furrowed, grabbing every container, staring at it for every second before moving on to another. It wasn’t until you picked the best and proceeded to the other section.

He follows you quietly. Watching you grab some products as the cart started to become halfway full, and you two haven’t gone to the other sections. Heeseung silently observes you as you mumble some words like how you’ll probably cook the chicken by Thursday, or you need this ingredient.

Now, he understands why Jungwon still depends on you even though their drummer tends to have a matured streak. His older sister is reliable, and he thinks that that’s admirable of you.

“You’re taking these groceries seriously,” Heeseung blurted out, snapping your thoughts. That’s when you realized that you spent a few minutes walking around and picking up products while Heeseung only followed you behind, pushing the cart for you.

“Sorry, I’m not really fun to be with, especially in a grocery store,” you apologetically replied.

“It’s not like that, but you look cute to look at,” Heeseung pointed out. “You’re pouting too much just staring at what kind of tofu are you going to buy.”

A faint blush rushed over your cheeks, you awkwardly laughed as you looked away from him. “Just a habit — come on now, I know you’re dying to go to the snacks section.”

As the two of you went through the snacks section, you skimmed around the aisles of chips, grabbing your favorite along with Jungwon’s. As you returned to Heeseung, you noticed how he sneaked in some snacks for him, while he innocently looked away.

You only smiled as you placed down the chips, “fine, I’ll buy it for you Heeseung.”

“Wait, I’m going to pay you with cash,” Heeseung argued, grabbing his wallet when you stopped him.

“A compensation for accompanying me,” you rebutted. “So that you have your own chips in our house.”

Heeseung only has an embarrassed look on his face as he grabs another one. “Fine, but I’ll add another one.”

You two were able to finish the groceries after a half an hour, paying it with the credit card your parents left. Now, the two of you are by the small food court beside the supermarket, buying some snacks for the two of you.

“This is nice,” Heeseung said. The bowl of instant ramen is warm in front of him as he blows off some steam before eating it.

“You’re much more patient than Jungwon,” you replied, taking a small bite on the fish cake. “I always wanted to try the snacks here, but Jungwon would prefer going home after.”

“Then next time you go buy your groceries, text me so I can accompany you again,” Heeseung suggested.

“You’re just here for the free snacks.” you jokingly said.

“That, and I don’t mind accompanying you.” Heeseung rebutted. “Something about doing groceries feels nice, not gonna lie.”

Who would’ve thought? Lee Heeseung doesn’t mind doing groceries with you? The thought sounds nice — sweet if you’re being exaggerated. Heeseung helped in placing the products inside the box, even carrying the box so that you wouldn’t lift a finger. But you know that this is just a one time thing. Jungwon will kill both of you if he discovers that Heeseung accompanied you to do groceries.

A few days had passed and your progress in the project was halfway done. Just a little smoothing on the analysis and adaptation comparison (which wasn't from the instructions but you and Heeseung put it in in hopes of gaining additional points.), and you can pass the project even earlier than you two had scheduled.

Heeseung’s analysis and reports were on spot. No need for you to revise since it was clear and concise, and you’re glad that you agreed to become his partner. You weren’t stressed throughout the paper, making you admire Heeseung for his dedication in the project.

Now, you’re sitting on your couch, biting on your nails as you remember that today was the day that you’re half-anticipating, half-dreading for — your movie screening with Heeseung.

Considering that you’re just doing it in the abode of your home, and considering that you two are just project partners who insisted on watching the movie together, you call it a movie screening rather than a date. (and you consider that your younger brother might join in case something happens between you and Heeseung — which, your very imaginative mind shouldn’t have clouded your thoughts but anyway.)

A ring on the doorbell startled you, almost tripping as you tried to put on your house slippers. As you opened the door, there stood Heeseung in his glory, wearing his department jacket with a fitted sleeveless shirt underneath that hugged his leaned body. Not to mention, those baggy denim pants and cool sneakers.

Your first thought is why he’s overdressed for a movie screening but fucking hell, he’s so handsome that your mind short-circuited especially when he’s holding a helmet. Did he just drive all the way here using his motorbike? God forbids Lee Heeseung to be ten times more attractive than what you’ve thought.

“Come in,” you said in a quiet yet high-pitched tone that as Heeseung passed by, you physically cringed because of it.

“So, are you ready for some movie date?” Heeseung asked, slumping on the couch comfortably.

It’s a movie screening. A movie screening, not a date. This doesn’t look like a date — “of course! Just open the tv, I already selected it there. I’ll just go get some snacks.” you said, going towards the kitchen where your stock was.

“Need help?” Heeseung asked.

“No thanks! You’re a guest, make yourself comfortable!” you answered, because deep inside you’re about to burst any moment.

What the hell. Of course, Heeseung doesn’t know how to take a hint because he stood up from the couch like the gentleman he is and followed you towards the kitchen. You let him wander around as you placed the microwaveable popcorn inside the microwave, and while waiting, you opened your fridge to grab a few drinks for the two of you. Placing it on the tray as Heeseung found the pantry of snacks.

“Hey, my snacks are still here,” he laughed, grabbing the bag of chips and sweets you bought for him last week.

“You didn’t eat it when you had practice here?” you asked.

“I told myself I’ll just eat it during our movie date,” Heeseung casually said, and you are holding yourself back from asking him why he keeps on saying that this is a date.

Mixed signals. Mixed signals! Heeseung probably didn’t mean it. You gave him an awkward smile before shifting your attention towards the microwave where just in time, had just finished cooking the popcorn.

“Heeseung hyung? You’re here?” the two of you stopped when a familiar voice echoed inside the kitchen.

“We’re going to watch a movie for our project,” Heeseung casually said. “Wanna watch it with us?”

As you turn around, Jungwon gives you a knowing look. The “our agreement, don’t forget.” look and you only gave him a nod as he glanced back at his friend.

“No thanks, you guys enjoy it though — hyung what I told you!” Jungwon warns once again, making Heeseung chuckle.

“I know dude, calm down,” then, he looks at you. “Let’s go?”

As the two of you arrived at the living room, you two opted to sit on the long couch — sitting on both ends of the couch. You relaxed your legs on the extension of the couch, hugging the throw pillow while Heeseung had his legs sprawled on the space between the two of you.

Jungwon passes by, glancing at the two of you, contended that you two are a few feet apart, he returns to his room and that was your cue. You grabbed the remote and clicked play, the sound of the movie slipping through the speaker, and there, the two of you watched in peace.

For the duration of the movie, you two were too immersed with it. Only eating the snacks as both of you were too focused on the scenes, trying to understand the plot and narration, especially since both of you know that the movie’s adaptation is far from the novel.

“I hate Trip,” Heeseung suddenly blurted out midway through the movie. You only glanced at him, clutching the pillow you were holding. “He’s such an asshole, leaving Lux on the field alone? That’s so sick.”

“All of the guys are assholes,” you explained. “They don’t even know these girls, they just fantasized about them.”

“Yeah that too, but Trip’s the most jerk out of all of them,” Heeseung laughs. “After stealing Lux’ virginity, he immediately dropped her.”

“All guys do that,” you bitterly said.

Heeseung didn’t say a word, immediately catching your bitter tone. He glances at you as you munched a few chips to ease the tension.

“You don’t have to answer it but…saying from your experience?” he asked, body shifting to face you.

“My ex-boyfriend he…it was after prom too, everything was special and wholesome — from what I feel, then a few weeks later he broke up with me,” you laughed bitterly. “But that was back in high school, I shouldn’t have dated high school guys, they’re immature and horny.”

“Woah, that’s shitty of him,” Heeseung could only say. “Does he study here?”

“Why? Are you going to hunt him down? He went overseas, and don’t worry, Jungwon gave him a punch and kick in the shin,” you laughed.

“Is that why Jungwon’s so protective of you?” Heeseung asked out of the blue.

“Half of it is the reason why,” you answered. “My ex was already a walking red flag before we got together, Jungwon warned me and I didn’t listen to him. So when it happened, he kinda had that ‘I told you so’ look but at the same time, he didn’t push it. Simply because I was really hurt at that time.”

Heeseung nods, watching as you shrug with your words, like you’re over it.

“I mean Jungwon’s not that overprotective at all. He’s not the ‘they have to go through me’ type of younger brother. He doesn’t care who I date but because of my experience, I pretty much held a high standard on dating guys.” you laughed.

“Oh really?” Heeseung lazily leans on the couch. “What’s your type then?”

You blinked at his words, knowing damn well that your whole ideal type is in front of you.

“Are we really pausing the movie midway for that question?”

“Come on, in exchange I’ll tell you my type,” he bargained.

Now you’re curious, wondering what kind of girl Heeseung wants, so you bite on it.

“Okay, I want someone taller than me — that’s the only physical trait that I want. He’s got to be smart and handsome because Jungwon will judge me if I date an ugly and stupid guy. What else? I prefer a straightforward guy because mixed signals are shitty, I don’t want to waste my time overthinking your words.” you replied.

You saw Heeseung's expression shift when you mention ‘straightforward guys.’ His jaw slacking before quipping a small smile before he spoke, “that’s all?”

“Do you want it to be really specific? Like he’s good at cooking or what type of sport he plays? I don’t go there, just be genuine and straightforward with your feelings for me, and we’re good.” you brushed off. “So, your type?”

“My type?” Heeseung ponders it for a moment, before glancing at you, his stare on you was too long but he doesn’t notice it — but you do. “Probably someone who’s mature and independent, but not too distant that she’s not open about her feelings. You get it right? I don’t mind their physical appearance. I just don’t want girls who are too clingy that it’s suffocating but at the same time, I still want them to be affectionate to me.”

Not what you expected. Most boys would describe their ideal firstly by their physical appearance. Some want short girls, long hair or short hair, even the skin complexion. While Heeseung’s ideal type doesn’t rely on those, you can still conclude that his standards are high.

“Sounds like your dream girl needs to be invented in a lab.” you teased. “Have you ever thought that maybe your dream girl is one of the girls you’ve rejected?”

“I know this kinda sounds egoistic but most girls, those who would confess their love to me, they sometimes just like the idea of being with me, Lee Heeseung. Most of them really don’t know who I really am and wouldn’t bother knowing me.”

And to think that you’re one of them gave you a hint of guilt. You have a lot of preconceived notions about Heeseung, assuming that he’s this dreamy guy that’s charismatic and everything. But with the small interactions that you had with him, you slowly realized that he’s more than what you thought.

A small smile escapes your lips as you shift your attention to the paused screen of your tv, grabbing the remote and fiddling with it as the awkward silence hovered between the two of you.

“So you’re just like the Lisbon sisters?” you gawked, and Heeseung stared at you for a second before bursting out into fits of laughter.

“You have your way with words y/n,” Heeseung stated. “But you could say something like that — except the suicide part because my parents are actually decent people who wouldn’t put me on house arrest.”

You two continued watching the movie. Both falling into a tranquil silence until the end of the movie. The ending credits were rolling but neither of you moved. That’s when you grabbed your phone to check what time it was — it was almost eight in the evening.

“Great movie,” Heeseung started. “Cut out a lot of scenes from the novel, but Coppola managed to retain the whole vibe of the novel.”

“I think our project will be successful, given that you had a lot of things to say, I feel like Mr. Jeon should give us additional points if we exceed his maximum number of pages.” you jokingly pointed out.

“Hey, I’m sure you have much more to add to our project than I do,” Heeseung assured. “Either way, we’re a great team don’t you think?”

Heeseung raises his hands, smiling at you who didn’t sink in what to do first. Not until Heeseung waves his hands one more time before you clasp his hands, shaking it as both smiles become wide. You didn’t miss the way Heeseung’s hands squeezed your hands lightly before letting it go.

“We have a week before our agreed deadline, let’s get this done so that we can focus on our midterms,” Heeseung said, standing up from his seat. “I should get going now, Jungwon might wonder why I’m still around.”

You only laughed as you stood up to walk him towards the door. “I enjoyed the movie Heeseung, take care on the way home.”

But what surprised you is Heeseung suddenly brushed the stray hairs that almost covered your face, smiling as his hands linger near your cheeks a bit longer than you expected.

“Goodnight y/n, I enjoyed the movie too,” Heeseung smiles.

You watch as Heeseung hops onto his motorbike, waving at you before starting its engine and driving away. You stood there speechless in front of your doorway that you didn’t even notice that Jungwon had witnessed the scene.

So when you turned around, you were surprised when you made eye contact with your younger brother.

“Have you been there the whole time?” you asked, heart beating fast like you were a deer caught in the headlight.

“No, I just got down,” Jungwon lied instead. “Heeseung hyung went home now?”

“Yeah — he just did,” you said, almost stumbling to your words. “It’s almost late, do you want to eat dinner or —”

“I’m curious, with the way Heeseung hyung acts around you, have you ever thought of having a crush on him?” Jungwon said, and that made your world stop.

Were you that obvious? There’s no way Jungwon was able to catch it but then again, this is Jungwon we’re talking about. Your younger brother who’s observant and quick to pick up things. He’s the only person that knows you damn well.

“Why would you think of that?” you immediately asked instead.

“I mean, he’s a guy, he’s also handsome and how he acts — as a girl, have you?” and relief was all you could feel because Jungwon wasn't able to pick it up.

“Jungwon, whenever I see Heeseung, I see him as your friend, and we’ve said it many times, it’s weird to date your friends.” you answered quickly, since it has always been your excuse.

“Well, if he wasn’t my friend?” Jungwon asked, crossing his arms.

You raised an eyebrow, now there’s a sudden change in Jungwon’s tone. Like he was asking you hypothetically. “Where is this going Won?”

“Nothing nothing,” Jungwon said, shaking his head as he headed towards the kitchen, with you following him behind. “You two have been close lately, that’s why. I’ve already told you about Heeseung hyung.”

“And I’m not going to give meaning to everything he does,” you assured, pinching your brother’s cheeks which made him scowl. “I’m not that stupid girl anymore Won.”

Despite internally, you were celebrating every interaction you had with Heeseung, you know that you’ll never have a chance with Heeseung.

You can only hold on to the fact that Heeseung may be considered reachable in your sort. But of course, just like your other crushes, whatever you feel about Heeseung was just a crush. A fleeting feeling of admiration along with the butterflies in your stomach. Nothing more, because the deeper your feelings may go for him — it’ll just end up hurting you.

You submitted your project just a few days before your planned deadline. Everything was perfect for you and Heeseung. The flow of the paper was readable, arranged properly with a clear analysis of the novel. Light revisions were made before passing it to Prof. Jeon. Your professor was impressed that you two were able to pass it earlier compared to others. Making you two confident that you’ll receive a passing grade from it.

But submitting the project also means that there’s no reason for you to approach Heeseung. But you find that situation better than getting closer than him. It’ll just save you from falling from him deeper. No more crash outs, no more venting of feelings, and assuming that everything Heeseung does has meaning —

“Hey, you’re going to that art exhibit?” Heeseung approaches you suddenly.

You glanced at him twice before your mouth moved, “wait, the one from Prof. Lee’s subject?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s voluntary but you’re interested in art right? I remember you told me that one time.”

You couldn’t even recall when you told him that. Was it when you two were on your ride home from your groceries? Or was it when you two were discussing your novel analysis but got segue midway? Either way, you found yourself surprised to hear that from Heeseung. He remembered something that you’ve mentioned.

“Oh — well, I do of course,” you stuttered. “Why?”

“Let’s go together? I also wanted to see it, they seem interesting,” Heeseung casually said.

“Right, Saturday?” you asked.

“Saturday afternoon? I’ll see you at the museum? Or should I just pick you up?”

And let Jungwon see the two of you? “No, let’s just meet at the museum, around three?”

“Sounds great, see you!” Heeseung waves goodbye to you and you almost melt from where you were standing.

Who would’ve thought that after the project. Heeseung will still find a way to approach you. Should you give a meaning to this one? Because there’s no way in hell that he asked you to go see an exhibit that is voluntary, on a Saturday, as what? As friends? You don’t even know if you could consider him as your friend.

You tried to conceal your beating heart, but anytime it’s going to burst out at any moment. You wanted to go to an empty, hollow place and scream into the void, because as much as you want to deny it, you couldn’t help to conclude that you’re going out with Heeseung, alone, with no Yang Jungwon watching you two like a hawk.

Yet, the thought of Heeseung being Jungwon’s friend was thrown out of the window the moment Saturday arrived. You stood there outside the entrance of the museum. Your hands clammy and sweaty as you stood there awkwardly, internally cursing yourself for arriving ten minutes earlier than your agreed time.

You were wearing a white maxi skirt, pairing it with a baby tee and thin cardigan, not your usual get-up but you wanted to at least look decent in front of Heeseung. The art exhibit was located inside the museum of the art. It’s an exhibit dedicated to children’s rights. They displayed hundreds of drawings and paintings drawn by kids alongside important and historical paintings.

Your professor, Ms. Lee was an advocate, that’s why she encouraged your class to visit the exhibit. While you’re thinking of going there along with your friends — Heeseung approached you first.

Speaking of Heeseung, your eyes landed on him who’s walking towards you. The smile on his face widening as he stood in front of you. He was wearing a long-sleeved buttoned shirt, tucked in front of his washed denim pants. Some silver jewellery on his hands and neck, and to compliment it all, he was wearing his fake eyeglass with his hair bangs down.

“You look beautiful,” Heeseung started, and that’s when your heart started to beat rapidly.

“Thanks, you look good too,” you complimented him back. “Should we go inside?”

The two of you made its way inside the entrance. Signing up for the exhibit before going inside the first room of the museum.

It was quiet, a bit cold, and there were a lot of people who came by to visit the exhibit. You and Heeseung walked side by side, stopping at every painting just to read the description, and perhaps fawn over it even though it was obvious it was a kid’s painting. Sometimes, you gawk at the historical paintings. Despite visiting the museum a couple of times, you never failed to be mesmerized by it.

“This one’s cute,” Heeseung pointed out. It was a painting of a kid’s pet — obviously, it looked like a monster rather than a dog.

You stifle a laugh as Heeseung glances at you with a confused look. “Why? Did I say something wrong?”

“Nothing, you seem to be enjoying this one,” you pointed out.

“You think I’m not the type of guy who would go to museums or some art gallery?” Heeseung asked. “Guess you don’t know me at all.”

You became quiet for a minute, “I actually don’t, I’m surprised you agreed to come with me here.”

“Couldn’t miss the opportunity, it’s great to see kid’s scribbles beside historical paintings,” Heeseung laughs.

“You seem fond of kids,” you told him.

“That’s why I chose education, I always wanted to teach kids. I know they’re hyper and loud, but better to teach the alphabet than high school chemistry,” Heeseung explained.

“Oh so education has always been your first choice?” you asked, surprised.

“What? Surprised that a guy like me actually wanted to become a teacher? Yeah, a lot of people say that.”

“I don’t know, I’m just used to education students who weren't accepted to their first choice so they ended up choosing it,” Heeseung glances at you and you give him a smile. “I know because education wasn’t my first choice.”

“Wait right there, what?” Heeseung asked, surprised. “Not gonna lie, you give off the vibe of a girl who wanted to become a teacher.”

“I was planning on taking architecture but I failed the drawing test, so here I am,” you simply shrugged. “But I learned to love education too, so don’t come at me mr. education is my first choice.”

A small chuckle escapes on Heeseung’s lips, “I guess we really don’t know each other that well.”

“Right.” you only said. Realizing that you two are still on that stage where you two aren’t friends, but aren’t more than that — acquaintance? Maybe you’ll put you two in that category. Contended with that conclusion, you hum lightly as you shift your attention towards the paintings.

The two of you continued walking around the room. You were simply amazed at the historical paintings but it’s funny seeing a six-years-old’s painting of her family beside it. But you can only feel nothing but small jumps of joy looking at it.

Heeseung, on the other hand, seems to be more immersed in the gallery than you. Eyeing on every display the museum has. Laughing at some kid’s painting but at the same time, cooing at it. Finding it precious and innocent for him.

As the two of you moved to the second room, only a few people were there. There weren’t any kid’s paintings anymore, only artifacts and displays but you and Heeseung decided to completely tour around the museum.

“Why don’t you ask me a question?” Heeseung blurted out of nowhere.

“What for?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, we don’t know each other very well,” Heeseung stated. “And you seem to have a lot of misinterpreted impressions about me.”

“Sounds like you just wanted to talk about you,” you grinned.

“No, this is like, twenty questions. After you ask a question, I ask you a question back,” he said.

“Alright,” you hum, thinking of what’s a decent question to ask him. “Will you still continue performing after graduation? You seem like you really wanted to become a teacher.”

“Big question already? That’s hard,” for a minute Heeseung pondered about it, glancing at every display before looking at you. “I don’t mind, actually it depends on the others. Jay and Sunghoon wanted to, Jungwon isn’t still quite sure especially since he’s a year below us. We’ll talk about it next year.”

“I’m pretty sure that Jungwon wanted to play for the band, he loves being part of Arcanum,” you shared, making Heeseung smile.

“Okay my turn, if Jungwon didn’t establish the ‘don’t date my sister’ rule, who would you date out of all his friends?”

You awkwardly chuckled. “Why are you asking that?”

“I’m just curious,” Heeseung nonchalantly replied.

“Will it boost your ego if I chose you?” you teased, and Heeseung scoffed in disbelief.

“It’s a hypothetical question y/n.”

“Fine, hypothetically I’ll choose Jake.” you answered.

Heeseung’s brows furrowed. “Jake?”

That’s when you laugh, “What? You thought it only revolved around Arcanum? Aren’t there like seven of you?”

“Yeah but — Jake?” His tone surprised more than ever.

“It’s a hypothetical question, Heeseung,” you grinned. “No explanations, my turn and since we’re talking about dating, why are you still single?”

“I’ll get back to you y/n, but to answer your question, I just like being single. Having a girlfriend isn’t what I have in mind right now, and I don’t do casual shits too.”

“Jungwon told me that you’re a mixed signal giver,” you snitched, and Heeseung only laughed.

“Everyone thinks that, but trust me, I don’t leave girls hanging. I guess they just assume that my gestures have meaning to it, that’s why they think I’m into them,” Heeseung explained. “I mean if I helped you carry some heavy things, would you give meaning to it?”

It’s funny because he did accompany you to do groceries one time. “That depends, if you helped me numerous times, then I’ll give meaning to it.”

“Yeah well some girls don’t, one time, I helped a girl cross the street one time, and she thought I liked her,” Heeseung explained. “I’m just being nice!”

You only laughed at his words. “I mean if a handsome guy helped me cross the street, I’ll assume a lot of things too.”

Heeseung groans, “whatever, I’ll just keep rejecting them, I enjoy being single. It’s chill and no love problems, look at Jay and Sunghoon, I don’t think I can do that to myself.”

Your smile faded. Shifting your attention towards the display. Thinking that whatever you two are doing right now is probably a friendly date.

But at the same time, this is different from him helping someone cross the street. Heeseung could’ve asked his friends to accompany him, but Heeseung asked you and that’s all because he remembered that you like art. So how can you not give meaning to it?

“Okay my turn, so why Jake?” Heeseung changes the topic.

“You’re seriously not going to let go of that one huh?” you let out a small chuckle before letting out a sigh.

“I don’t know, he’s the first one that came to my mind,” you simply said, and in some ways, your answer wasn’t wrong. “He’s the one I’m closest to the most, maybe that’s another reason why.”

“How come you and him are closer than you and me?” Heeseung asked. “We’ve been classmates since freshman year.”

“I think it’s pretty normal, I’m not even close with most of our classmates either,” you laughed.

“I hope we become closer after this,” Heeseung blurted out.

You stopped midway, glancing at him who only gave you a smile.

“You’re too obvious you want me,” you teased, joking with your words.

“What if I told you that I do, want you?” he grins, before grabbing your hand as he pulls you towards the next hall. Surprised by his answer and gesture, you remained quiet as his hand remained on your throughout the whole exhibit.

You two decided to have dinner outside after finishing touring the museum. At a fast food chain because you were craving their burgers. You two continued the twenty questions, until it was almost late and the traffic had slowly dissolved.

By the end of the day, Heeseung drove you home, even opening the car of the passenger seat for you. You could only smile as you find not only the action sweet — but your whole day with Heeseung.

Not only that but Heeseung walked you towards the front door of your house. He watched as you pressed the doorbell, before looking at him.

“I had so much fun today,” you told him. “Thank you Heeseung, I didn’t expect that you would remember that I’m interested in art.”

“I pay attention to what you say, I also had fun too,” Heeseung casually said, acting like it’s nothing but for you, it meant something.

“Goodnight Heeseung,” you waved, but before you went, Heeseung suddenly grabbed you by your shoulder.

Surprised, you only stood there. His round eyes staring at you like he doesn’t want you to leave yet. But what surprised you the most was when he faced you towards him.

Close. Way too close. Heeseung’s eyes never left yours. You can feel it, your cheeks heating up, your heart beating fast like crazy. You don’t know what to do as Heeseung's eyes darted to your lips before glancing back at you — like he’s asking for permission.

But before you could utter another word, the door swung open and you almost fell flat when you pushed yourself away from Heeseung.

“You guys think that I’m fucking stupid!?” Jungwon stood there, his tone dripping with anger as you were frozen from where you were standing.

“Jungwon, it’s not what it looks like —”

“I told you many times, you can fool any girl that you want but not my sister!” Jungwon pushed Heeseung on the chest, but Heeseung didn't move.

“Dude calm down!” Heeseung shouted instead.

“You know it yourself that you’re not ready for a relationship then what the fuck is this? Taking her out on a date and almost kissing her? Stay the fuck away from my sister!”

But a mocking laugh escapes on Heeseung’s lips, looking at Jungwon like he was taunting the younger one. “I wouldn’t be surprised if y/n ends up being single forever, you’re scaring guys away,”

“Guys like you hyung! You’re not even that serious when it comes to love.” Jungwon pointed out, making you realise that he was right, but that doesn’t give him the right to get angry at Heeseung.

“Jungwon, we weren’t doing anything, Stop it,” you butt in.

That’s when he darted his attention to you. “I’ve warned you about Heeseung hyung many times, but you never listen to me — you never listen!” he shouted, and hearing those words felt like you’re in high school again. Remembering how angry Jungwon was when he discovered what happened to you.

You stood there as the disappointment in Jungwon’s face became more clear. You wanted to defend yourself when Heeseung stepped in.

“Jungwon stop that. She’s older than you, have some respect.” he stated.

“Don’t interfere hyung, this is between me and my sister.” Jungwon coldly said.

“You’re the one who should stop. You know you’re suffocating y/n don’t you?” a taunting smile forming on his lips. “She’s her own person, and she couldn’t even move because you’re breathing under her neck.”

Jungwon didn’t say a word, he didn’t rebut Heeseung’s words because deep inside, his friend was right. Still, a pissed expression was written over the younger’s face. Shooting glares at Heeseung.

“I’m not that stupid to hurt her Jungwon, maybe you should try trusting her instead of caging her.” Heeseung added, and you wonder what he meant when he said that.

But you watch as Heeseung walks away. Leaving you and Jungwon alone there. Your lips were tightly sealed before your brother faced you.

“Do you like Heeseung hyung?” Jungwon corners. “Don’t lie to me noona.”

You stared at him for a moment. Guilt rushing in you because in some angle, there’s a part of you who’s at fault. “Fine, Jungwon, I have had a crush on him since freshman year but it’s just a crush.”

Jungwon could only laugh in disbelief. “So all the times I told you to stay away from him were useless?”

“No, because from the start, I know I never stood a chance on him,” and every word you said hurts you. “Even now, our hangouts, whatever this was, and every gesture he does, I’m not going to give meaning to it. I don’t want to make an assumption unless he really confessed to me that he likes me.”

“You’re just leading yourself to a cliff,” Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “Why would you still entertain him even though you know you don’t stand a chance. I don’t get you — both of you actually.”

“Maybe Heeseung’s right, you should just trust me instead of caging me,” you answered instead. “I know what I am doing Jungwon, maybe you should just let me make my own choices this time.”

Jungwon stared at you for a whole minute, before heaving out a sigh. “Don’t come at me when Heeseung hyung hurts you, I’ve already warned you many times.”

But before he could leave, you grabbed your brother by his arms. “Don’t be mad at Heeseung, I don’t want to be the reason why you two fought — or worse, Arcanum disbanding.”

“You should’ve thought about that before you even interacted with Heeseung hyung, the same goes with him.” Jungwon swatted his arms harshly, glaring at you before going inside the house.

Despite that night, Jungwon’s words still managed to stop whatever you and Heeseung had.

It was weird. For the past few weeks, the two of you are always beside each other, talking about ‘The Virgin Suicides,’ getting to know each other through oddly specific details, and planning meetups casually, followed by a museum date, deeply knowing him more and almost kissing each other — then the next thing you knew, you two were back to being strangers.

Back to normal. You could say. Band practices continued in your house, tension seeping away with you giving them small greetings before going inside your room, and the way you and Heeseung ignored each other — both knew that whatever you two had was pointless.

For the past few days, there were no more Lee Heeseung approaching you and everything. And somehow, that should ease you — reminding you that he’s unreachable.

You almost fooled yourself, but with the way Heeseung distanced himself after defending you from Jungwon, you were quick to conclude that he still respects his friend’s decision to not go near you, just like you should with dating your brother’s friend.

And if Heeseung had distanced himself from you, so should you too.

But somehow, you still ended up wherever he was. Now, he’s sitting in front of you, at a noisy bar, along with your classmates who were celebrating the end of midterms exam. The table is full of alcohol, different ones — beer, cocktails, tequilas, and vodkas. All assortments that will have everyone passed out drunk before the night ends.

You have a decent alcohol tolerance, you’re not that close with most of your classmates and you don’t even like going out but here you are, because you overheard Heeseung joining the night out.

Avoiding him was the best option, you know where it all leads if you continued talking to him — Jungwon getting furious, Arcanum might disband, and hurting your own feelings. Lee Heeseung should’ve remained unreachable, but for all the times of him noticing you, flirting and almost kissing you, you want to know more.

There’s an itch inside you that wants to confront him, and your normal self would get flustered if you approached him first. That’s why a bit of alcohol and drunkenness might help you gain the courage that you need.

The night was still young. You can do your confrontation later but for now, you’re spending the first few hours enjoying and laughing along with your classmates, trying your best to socialize not until a classmate of yours raises her glass.

“Let’s play, truth or shot!” Sieun suggested. Because all of you are seated at a long table and a spin the bottle won’t suffice, everyone gets to do it. No one wants to ruin the mood, and perhaps it was because most of them are tipsy, everyone agreed to join.

You watch as all of them get daring questions, somewhere bold to answer the questions while others choose to drink the shot.

“Y/n, it’s your turn!” Sieun announced excitingly, clapping her hands as she stretches the shot glass towards yours which is a mixture of tequila and beer.

“Do you guys have a question for her?” she asked the crowd.

“I have!” Lily said, obviously drunk. “Kiss, marry, fuck, Arcanum members except your younger brother of course.”

The whole table hollered in excitement, patting Lily because the question was too good. You only laughed at their teasing but everyone was insisting that it’s a hypothetical question especially when one specific member is present at the table.

Heeseung looks at you, eyeing every move you make as you look at the shot glass, wondering if you’ll answer it or not.

But you were brave. It’s just a stupid drinking game, there are chances that they won’t remember it by tomorrow. “Okay hypothetically? I’ll kiss Sunghoon but on the cheeks! And it’s a platonic kiss because I don’t want to be a homewrecker!” you laughed before pondering between the two, too long that all of them are starting to get impatient.

“Girl, Heeseung is waiting for your answer!” Sumin shakes your shoulder but you only laugh as you stare at Heeseung, a smirk forming on your lips. The alcohol clouding your mind as a bright idea popped into your mind.

“I’d marry Jay, and I’d fuck Heeseung,” you answered truthfully, which earned amountful teasing and screams from your classmates, banging the table as you could only take the shot in front of you despite answering the question.

“We need an explanation!” Lily insisted.

“Well Jay is the most husband material out of them, and since Heeseung mentioned that he prefers being single. A one-time sex wouldn’t be bad, right Heeseung?” you fired the question towards Heeseung who only smiled in disbelief.

“I’ll give you a good fuck then,” Heeseung answered back, completely shutting you off. You sat there frozen as Heeseung took a sip on his beer, even wiggling his eyebrows like he was teasing you, while both your classmates continued teasing both of you.

“Since the topic is on you Lee Heeseung, would you date y/n? If you’re not such a stuck-up guy who insists that he likes being single?” Sieun interrupted, giving the shot glass in front of Heeseung.

Heeseung looks at the shot glass for a moment, before glancing at you, an evident smirk on his lips that makes you nervous.

“Yeah, why not?” he said casually which made the table noisy again.

“Oh my god you two, just make out already!”

“I dare the two of you to kiss for five seconds!”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the two of you ended up together after tonight.”

The table had placed the attention on the two of you. Your classmates continued the teasing which only made you laugh while Heeseung remained in his seat, drinking his beer and completely ignoring the dumb request your classmates had.

But it wasn't the peak of the night. More alcoholic drinks were ordered. There were some strangers going to your table, flirting with your classmates, asking for their numbers. Some were already crying as the song in the club reminded them of their ex, others went out for a smoke, while you remained at your table, doing some stupid game along with your classmates.

Slowly, you’re losing yourself. Your eyes are getting heavier and as you glanced at your watch, it was already 3 am. The table was still full of your classmates when you stood up, almost falling if it wasn’t for your classmate quickly guiding you.

“I need some fresh air!” you shouted at her.

“Okay, do you want me to accompany you?” she asked.

“No, I can do it!” you giggled, grabbing your purse before going outside the bar.

The cold night welcomed you, mixed with the smell of smoke of strangers talking and smoking on the empty road. You could only close your eyes as you sat at a pavement beside it — not caring if it’s dirty. Your head is spinning, everything is blurry but the only good thing is that you don’t feel like you’re going to vomit anytime.

You looked at your watch and saw that it’s almost late. Your energy’s all drained out, you don’t feel socializing anymore, and you just want to slump against your bed and doze off. You have to tell your classmates that you’re leaving, but your butt is glued to the pavement, too tired to move that you could only lower your head and groan louder.

“Get up,” you looked up and there he was. A serious expression written on his face, like he was disappointed in you.

“Hi Heeseung,” you laughed, finding the situation too funny. After the exchange earlier, this is probably the first time you and Heeseung had talked throughout the night. You wanted to ask him questions but your mind was spinning and everything was just too blurry for you.

“Come on now, let’s get you home,” he offered, approaching you as he only brushes his hand on your shoulder.

You only hummed at his words, “home? Sure, I also want to go home now — wait, I have to go back and pay my share.”

“I already got it, and I told them we’re going home. Come on now, can you walk?”

“Of course! Wait —” you stood up from the pavement but you almost fell, Heeseung immediately grabbed you by your waist. Guiding you as you could only lean on his touch, eyes almost close.

Heeseung carefully guided you towards his car, opening the door of his passenger seat while you almost stumbled inside.

“My head hurts,” you groan as soon as Heeseung gets inside.

“Just sleep for a while,” Heeseung advised. “I’ll wake you up when we get home.”

You only nod as you close your eyes, Heeseung starts the engine and drives away from the bar.

But fifteen minutes into the drive, you regained your consciousness, head still spinning but you try your best to think where you are right now and then realise that you’re not inside the bar anymore — nor at the pavement you were sitting on.

Then it hit you, looking at the interior of the car as the smell of a familiar perfume made you glance at the driver. And there he was, driving you home.

“You’re allowed to drive?” That was the first thing you said.

“I’m not even tipsy y/n,” Heeseung said. “I can’t say the same thing to you.”

“I’m never going to do that again,” you mumbled to yourself as you could only lean on the car’s window. Watching how Heeseung drove smoothly towards the empty streets of the city.

“Considering all the things you’ve said and done tonight, I am not surprised,” Heeseung taunted, that’s when you looked at him, a teasing smile formed on his lips.

“You also said some weird stuff tonight,” you rebutted, words slurring out of your mouth.

Heeseung turned to a familiar street, his smile never leaving as he parked in front of your house’s gate. “Would you put a meaning to it?”

“Why would I put a meaning to it? It’s just a dare.” you answered, dodging his question. “Like mine, it’s a hypothetical question.”

“What if I want you to put a meaning to it?” he boldly said. “What if I told you, that night when we went to the museum, I really wanted to kiss you?”

It took your drunken mind a minute to process everything. “What?”

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

Heeseung was serious. He was looking at you with much intensity. The atmosphere became quiet, but suffocating due to the tension between the two of you. You could only blink as your eyes darted on his lips. Thick and soft, pinkish and tempting that it made you bite your lips.

“Fine, just a kiss,” you said, removing your seat belt as you faced him. There’s no harm with a short kiss right?

You watched as Heeseung unbuckled his seat belt too. Leaning towards you as he cups your cheeks and without any hesitation, crashes his lips onto yours — too fast that you weren’t prepared for it.

That’s why it didn’t take a few seconds for you to separate from him, worrying Heeseung as he looked at you, confused.

“I’m sorry —” you laughed. “This just doesn't feel real to me.”

Kissing your long-time crush? That crush of yours who you always convince yourself that you don’t stand a chance? Wanted to kiss you? And had kissed you just now? Sounds like a dream for you, something that the alcohol inside you had convinced was real.

“Then let’s do it again,” Heeseung said before pulling once again for a kiss. This time, softly like he was being careful with you. Unknowingly, you kissed him back, along with soft whimpers escaping from your lips. Try your best to balance yourself as Heeseung’s kisses become sloppy, almost breathy.

As you pull out from his lips. The two of you only stared at each other, the tension was rising and the inside of the car started to heat. Something in his eyes screams that he wants more — hungry for you and that’s when you felt your heart beating fast.

“Come here,” Heeseung adjusted his seat further to the back to make space for you. He pulls your body and the next thing you know, you’re on his lap while his hands are on your waist as he pulls you to a feverish kiss.

You must be dreaming, you muttered to yourself as Heeseung’s soft, plump lips are all your lips could feel. The taste of alcohol mixing along, bitter yet sweet for you while both hands became busy with feeling each other. Your hands trailed mindlessly to his shoulders down to his chest, wanting to feel that this is real for you.

While Heeseung’s hands made a bold move by brushing it on your clothed chest. Breaking the kiss, Heeseung leans towards your left ears, murmuring sweet words while his hands work on its way to cup your soft tits, wanting more to feel the skin beneath your clothes.

“I want you,” he whispered huskily. Planting kisses on your jawline down to your neck. “Want to feel you good — fuck, your lips are so soft.”

It didn’t help that his words go straight to your core. His flirty words that made you fall more deeply into him. Soft whimpers escaping your lips as he pushed you closer towards him, making you grind on his dick underneath, clearly printing on his pants. Guiding you as you rocked your hips towards it, earning moans from Heeseung. His lips leave your neck trailing towards your opened collarbone, softly and dangerously near your cleavage.

His hands slipped underneath your shirt, and in a snap, your bra is undone and he’s playing with your breast, flickering your nipples as he grinds his hips upwards to create more friction with you.

“Fuck — feels too good,” you moaned loudly as you continued to grind against him. Panties soaking wet due to the action.

“We can stop here. I don’t want to push you further if you don’t want it.” Heeseung stated before planting a kiss on your ears, and you know very well what he meant.

But despite his sweet gesture, Heeseung wasn’t subtle, his gleaming round eyes had a stare lust-struck on you. Pleading but wanting, and you know that you can just stop right there — afraid of the consequences.

Having sex with Heeseung doesn’t sound that bad. He’s your crush, and everything about this is mutually agreed. This is like a dream come true to you. But having sex with your younger brother’s friend? That’s a different story. It’s forbidden, and you’re breaking the only rule you and your brother established.

Jungwon had warned you many times about Heeseung. He’s a mixed signal giver. This might be nothing for him, but for you, sex was supposed to be intimate, a gesture only lovers should do.

But as you look at his soft, round bambi-like eyes, you just can’t help but to be lured into it. You know the moment you two kissed, you two have crossed the line — and the swirl of alcohol in your mind is eager for more.

Biting your lips, you could only brush his messy hair as you whispered to him, “Let’s go inside,” fuck it, you don’t know if it was the alcohol that’s talking, but it gave you the courage to say those words. You’re convinced that this is a one time thing, and you’ll have no regrets whatever happens tonight.

Heeseung turns off the engine before the two of you enter your house. Empty and quiet given that it was almost 4 am. Heeseung was wary at first, knowing that Jungwon’s asleep in his room. While you're a drunken mess, laughing and almost stumbling as you remove your shoes, tugging Heeseung with you.

“What about Jungwon —”

“He’s having a sleepover with Sunoo at Riki’s dorm.” you casually replied. “We have the house all by ourselves.”

Those words are all it takes for Heeseung to push you against the wall. Trapping you with his knees in between your thighs, almost brushing on your core that a moaning gasp escapes your lips.

“No wonder you’re so bold,” Heeseung smirked. “We can be as loud as we want to.”

“Make me,” you challenged, grinning as you boldly palmed his cock, even squeezing it teasingly making him groan.

“Remember what I told you earlier?” he leaned towards you, stopping an inch in front of you, nose almost touching yours as he smirked, gaze menacing. “I’ll give you a good fuck.”

A soft chuckle escapes your lips before Heeseung leans in for a kiss which you gladly reciprocated. Pulling him closer as he grabs you by your waist, almost lifting you with your clothed cunt resting on his right thigh. Grinding against it as the kiss turned harsher, both hands eager to touch each other as it trailed on each other’s body.

It didn’t take seconds before both bodies started to feel hot and sweaty. Heeseung shrugged off his shirt while quickly doing the same with yours — along with your bra. Both half-naked, you didn’t care that your living room might be witnessing something scandalous. Sex were supposed to be intimate for you, but now, you’re just eager to be fucked by your long-time crush.

Heeseung lowered his head between the cave of your breast, kisses trailing around it as he sucked and flickered your left nipples with his tongue. His large hand cups the right side, fondling it and making you more sensitive than ever.

“So pretty for me,” Heeseung grins as he continues to play with your tits, earning soft moans from you.

Heeseung removes his touch from you for a minute and kneels on the floor. Hands holding your thighs as he pushes it for you to open it.

You look down on him, surprised but dazed to see him kneeling in front of you. Your heart starts to beat fast when his face is just a few inches close to your clothed pussy, breathing heavily as he touches the end of your skirt.

“Wearing this flimsy thing, you never fail to surprise me huh?” he teased, lifting it up to see your laced red panties. “Fuck, keep the skirt on, pretty.”

Heeseung kisses the insides of your thighs, slowly and soft like he was worshipping it. Every touch feels like heaven for you, his hands making their way to hold your thighs firmly as Heeseung lightly as he presses his lips on your cunt. The wet patch evident where he swiped his tongue languidly on it, knocking you out of your breath.

You can feel your body becoming more sensitive than ever. Heeseung didn’t hesitate to pull down your panty, displaying your pussy out which only made him groan.

“Gorgeous for me baby,” he looks up to you. Eyes darkening as he grabs your right leg, swinging it on his shoulder so that you could put a weight on him. He doesn't care that his knees are aching red on the marbled tiles, Heeseung watches as you fall for him the moment he kisses your pussy’s lips.

Gently, he wanted to taste every inch of you, his mind hazing as your musk drunkens his mind. That’s when Heeseung started to swipe his tongue on your core, making you let out a loud moan that almost echoed inside.

“We got the whole house for ourselves right? Make those lovely noises for me,” Heeseung taunted before he continued eating you out.

It felt better than when you touched yourself. You can feel your body heating up twice, sensitive and eager for the rush of climax. You were shameless in making sounds, moans and whimpers escaping your lips, wanting Heeseung to know that you’re feeling good because of him.

Heeseung lightly grazed on your clit, making you twitch which made him gripped on your leg harsher. The heel of your feet digging his back.

“Stay still for me baby,” he ordered, tugging your body closer to him as he started devouring you again. Tongue lapping on your lips and clit simultaneously until he decided to use his free hand to insert a finger inside you.

“Fuck —”

“You’re feeling good baby? Moan for me, let me know how good I make you,” he inserts another finger. Circling inside your gummy walls as he continues to play your clit with his tongue, faster and harsher that your body starts to shake.

You couldn’t help but to grab his hair for balance, unconsciously grinding your hips for more. You can feel your orgasm coming, and you were eager to chase after it. Your breathing started to become unstable, trying to hold on to the feeling of being pleasured not until Heeseung’s slender fingers curled into a specific spot that made you moan loudly.

“That’s your spot baby? Come on don’t hold it back, cum for me,” Heeseung orders, his fingers bruising that spot that it didn’t take you seconds for you to whimper, body shaking as your orgasm came rushing to you. Heeseung savored every drop of your release. Latching on your pussy as he drinks it sloppily, juices trailing down on his chin as he continues to eat you despite reaching your orgasm.

You could only cry as you tried to remove Heeseung out of your cunt but he presses himself further, clit brushing on his nose making you whine louder as he holds your shaking hips tightly that it’ll leave a bruise.

“Heeseung — shit, fuck —wait!” your incoherent babbling didn’t stop Heeseung.

“I bet your ex couldn’t even make you cum,” he taunted, looking up at you. Seeing you all messy, sweating, and panting, made him want to devour you more. He wanted to hear more how you weaken in front of him.

Thumb grazing on your clit, you started to cry loudly again. Eyes shut harshly as Heeseung inserts his fingers inside you once again. Your walls trapping his fingers that Heeseung could only wonder how your tight walls would feel around his cock. The thought made him hard and aching.

“Want to make you cum more, make a mess for me baby,” Heeseung stated, lapping on your pussy once again. You could only cry in pleasure, feeling something coiling inside you which isn’t your orgasm.

Heeseung continued abusing your pussy, tongue sucking your clit while his fingers scissored your inside, finding the spot that had made you cum. Fingers curling and pumping in a harsh manner until something gushed out of your pussy. A messy and clear liquid which Heeseung didn’t hesitate to taste.

“Fuck,” he laughs devilishly. “Did you just fucking squirt? Shit, that was so hot. Come on, I know you can do more.”

“I don’t know —”

“Come on, do it for me again,” Heeseung encouraged, fingers continued pumping inside your pussy, until your legs started shaking once again. Another wave of orgasm hits you, squirting shamelessly in Heeseung’s fingers.

Too fucked-out to understand anything, you didn’t notice how Heeseung carried you towards the couch, placing you down on the extended part of the long couch.

“Told you pretty I’ll fuck real good and that’s just the start.” Heeseung stated. Hastily, he unbuckles his belt along with his pants’ zipper, pulling his pants down enough for him to release his huge dick. Red and aching to be inside your pussy. You whimper in pleasure as you stare at Heeseung who spits on his hand, stroking his dick slowly as he eyed on you lustfully.

Heeseung pulls you closer before he flips you on the couch. Pressing you down with your stomach flat against the couch. A heat of embarrassment churned in you as you felt like a doll being manhandled by Heeseung.

It didn’t help that Heeseung pulled your skirt upward, revealing the curve of your ass in front of him. He can feel his dick twitching just by the sight.

“Look at you, all pretty for me,” Heeseung hums. Slapping your ass cheeks making you flinch. The pain felt good that it went right through your core.

“Gonna fuck you so good, you’ll be shaking til morning,” he mumbled to you. He pushes your back further to flatly lay you down on your stomach, face pressed down on the couch as Heeseung lifted your hips enough for him to see your entrance.

He brushes his tip lightly on your pussy’s lips, sensitive from your previous orgasms, you couldn’t help but to crawl away from Heeseung — not until he pulls you back.

“Still sensitive —” you stopped midway when you could feel his tip protruding your entrance. A muted cry escapes your lips as slowly Heeseung pushes it inside.

“Don’t worry baby, I'll take care of you,” he assured, brushing the stray hairs that covered your face before planting a kiss on your temple.

Heeseung carefully thrust inside until he’s fully sheathed inside you. You could only groan as you feel yourself full. “God — so fucking tight, bet you’re a virgin again because you’re so tight for me.”

Slowly, he began to move, earning moans from you as your sensitive pussy started to shape Heeseung’s huge shaft. Ramming into the places that your fingers couldn’t reach. You could only leave hefty cries as your knuckles turned round from the pleasures.

“Look how your pussy is sucking me in,” Heeseung taunted, slapping your asscheeks once again before gripping the left cheek, turning red against his hands. He could only smirk as he felt nothing but heaven thrusting inside your warm walls. — never in his life would’ve thought that he’ll be fucking his friend’s sister, the one that his friend always told him to stay away.

He’s sorry for breaking the rules, but you were just so fucking sweet and the way your pussy is clench everytime his tip abuses your cervix, he has no remorse to it anymore. All Heeseung knows is that you’re so fucking good for him.

He pulls you upwards, your back pressed against his warm chest. Both sweats started mixing togethers as his arms wrapped around your stomach. That’s when Heeseung continued to thrust faster, eager to leave you breaking into loud cries.

“Feel how you’re taking me baby, you feel so tight that I’m bulging in you,” he whispers to you. His hands press your palms below your stomach, feeling his dick rail you made you moan more louder. Everything just feels so good and you’re just too dazed that the only thing you can feel was how Heeseung’s dick continued to slide through your g-spot.

“Hee —” his right hand started playing with your breasts once again, flicking and pinching your hard nipples as he busied his mouth on your shoulder, leaving kisses and faint marks that had you praying that it wouldn't leave a mark.

“More — please,” you cried as you felt your stomach coiling, your breath becoming louder and heavier as Heeseung became rougher than usual.

“Fuck, you’re coming again baby?” he asked, removing his hands from your tits, he slid it onto your clit, rubbing circles that made you moan. “Go on, cum for me baby.”

Heeseung grabs you by your cheeks, locking you to a torrid kiss. Heavily making out as he thrusts your pussy harder. You’re too fucked-out to kiss him back, moaning on his lips as his fingers rubbed your clit harder.

That’s when your another orgasm came, you felt your body turning into a jelly as you melted onto Heeseung, your body shaking as tears fell from your eyes. Heeseung slowly laid you back but he didn’t stop ramming his dick inside you, his thrust became faster as you could hear his breathing becoming harsh along with soft groans escaping his lips.

Heeseung chases after his orgasm, thrusting inside you a few times before pulling out, you could only whine loudly as Heeseung moans while he pumps his dick through orgasm. Cum spilling all over his hand and painting your ass and back.

It didn’t take a few seconds when you felt Heeseung’s hands on your back, brushing your hair away as he kissed your nape softly.

“You did good,” he whispered to you, planting another kiss on your right temple. “Just stay there okay? Let me clean up the mess.”

You’re too tired and sticky to move. You could only hear Heeseung shuffling to put on his pants as his light footsteps made its way towards the main bathroom — you only lay there naked with nothing but your skirt as everything felt overwhelming to you. Slowly, you closed your eyes, wishing that you’ll be awake by the time Heeseung returns.

Heeseung returns with a wet towel he found inside the bathroom. Noticing that you’ve passed out, he lets it be, knowing that you’re probably too drunk and tired. Carefully he tugs off the spoiled skirt to clean your body, wiping your cunt which made you whine softly by its touch, along with the cum on your back which he made mental notes for him to apologize to you the next time you two meet.

He picked up the discarded clothes on the floor. Cleaning every spot you two have touched, and hopefully it won’t smell like sex and sweat by the morning.

That’s when Heeseung decided to carry you towards your room — the first time he ever did that to a girl he had slept with. He just couldn’t bear to leave you there on the couch especially when Jungwon might walk in later in the morning.

Heeseung places you down on your bed. Looking at your naked figure, he felt a bit ashamed to just leave you like that. Luckily, he found a decent shirt and shorts on your clothing rack. Clothing you before tugging you neatly underneath your blanket.

He stared at you for a good minute. Seeing that you’re peaceful in your slumber, he lightly brushes off your bangs before kissing your forehead.

“Sweet dreams y/n,” he whispered.

“Heeseung…” you mumbled before Heeseung could even open the door.

Heeseung remained quiet, observing if you’re going to say anything. A few minutes had passed and that’s when he twisted the doorknob — seconds just for you to mumble some words again.

“I…like you Hee…” you said. Although it was soft and almost mumble, yet, Heeseung was quick to comprehend what you meant.

He was frozen from where he was standing, his hands remained on the doorknob. Staring at your sleeping figure, wondering if those words meant something.

Your words had Heeseung thinking throughout the weekend.

He remembers the saying, drunk words are sober thoughts. Even if you were intoxicated, he’s not just going to let your words slip away. He wonders if you truly meant those words, or just a whirlwind slip of a post-sex haze.

But the way you said it, mumbling, like you were being careful to say it. Thoughts started clouding in his mind throughout the weekend, he barely had sleep and he wanted to blame you for putting him in that situation.

When Monday arrived, you went to school like a normal student. A bright expression on your face as Heeseung watches you pass by him. Not even a hi or hello. His lips turned thin as he tried to act like you ignoring him didn’t hurt him a little.

Classes went on pretty normal, but Heeseung’s mind is still afloat. Eyes darting towards you every minute, stealing glances on you. But you only had your head low, writing on your Ipad and looking only upward towards the direction of the screen in front, making Heeseung realize that he’s like a fool looking for your attention.

Heeseung isn’t usually like this, so he wonders why he's acting like this. Heart racing, mind afloat, and it’s only your words that kept him occupied.

But it’s right there. The answer is just right there but Heeseung doesn’t want to acknowledge it, somehow a part of him isn’t ready for it. But as he looks at you, a lingering what-if crosses his mind. A thought of committing on to something that he’s been avoiding throughout his college life.

His intuition wanted him to do it, but he’s still holding back, and Heeseung knows that the only solution to it, was you.

That’s why the moment the professor dismissed the class, he hastily placed his things inside his bag before going towards you.

“Y/n,” he called out, almost loudly, that some of his classmates looked at him.

“Hey,” you smiled casually, and Heeseung swore that it almost knocked the breath out of him. Have you always had this effect on him? Why did he just realise it right now?

“Can we talk?” he asked, and saw your eyes surprised by his words.

“Sure,” you only nod before the two of you leave the room, going to a small corner by the hallway.

“About what you said that night,” Heeseung asked. “Is it true?”

You raised an eyebrow, “Did I say something? I barely remember anything even the…you know.”

Heeseung felt like his world crashed. Of course. You’re too drunk to remember everything. Even what you two did, you barely remember, and that made him scoff in disbelief.

“Did I say something weird or?” you asked nervously.

“You said you like me y/n,” Heeseung said in a serious tone. “Now tell me if it’s true.”

Heeseung watches your eyes widen in realization. A breathy curse slipped out of your mouth. That’s when he knew — that’s when his heart also knew.

“Listen y/n, it’s okay, I also —”

“Heeseung, you’re Jungwon’s friend,” you interrupted. “I can’t date you, I really — look, I like you, yes that’s true. But I care more about your friendship with Jungwon, and whatever happened that night. That’s just it, but please don’t tell Jungwon. He’ll get angry at you too. I hope you understand that.”

Heeseung blinks. Looking at your pleading expression, that’s when it hit him that it’s not that Jungwon is caging you, but it’s the fact that your love for your younger brother is stronger than your romantic feelings for him.

You two know that what you did was wrong. Both lines were crossed, and rules were broken. Jungwon trusted him not to go after you, and so do you. It’ll not only ruin friendship but Arcanum. Heeseung knows that you know how much Arcanum means to Jungwon, and it might even result in him leaving the band.

And seeing how you’re willing to set everything aside for Jungwon, Heeseung couldn’t do anything but to admire you — even if it means he will not continue his confession to you.

“Plus, you enjoy being single right?” you said lightheartedly, trying to ease the atmosphere. That’s when it slipped into Heeseung.

An awkward laugh escapes his lips. Ironic because he was planning to throw it away for you, but talking about wrong timing because you got him first. “Right — you’re right. No worries y/n, I won’t tell Jungwon.”

You gave him a smile, patting his shoulders as you mumbled your thanks before leaving him there alone. Watching you walk away, Heeseung could only lower his head as he walked towards the opposite direction — not knowing that you turned your head towards him once again.

That should be it. In the end, the two of you are some ways forbidden because of Jungwon. You’re right. Heeseung knows that he prefers being single. Right? Maybe what he’s feeling right now is just a temporary attachment to you because you two had sex, plus your confession caughting him off-guard. It’ll pass. Hopefully, for him, it’ll pass.

But it didn’t help that a few days after you two had a talk, Heeseung caught you together with Jake.

He knows that you two are orgmates. Coincidentally, you’re Jake’s executive assistant. Heeseung shouldn’t give meaning to it, especially when Jake’s not exempted from Jungwon's rule.

It shouldn’t bother him. Who is he even anyway? An obvious frown forming on his lips when he saw your instagram story with Jake, you two went to eat k-bbq alone. One would think that you two are actually dating. It’s the way that you’re leaning towards Jake who’s smiling widely, holding the barbecue tong. It's cute, but all Heeseung could feel was annoyance.

Heeseung remembered your conversation with him. Out of all Jungwon’s friends, Jake’s your choice to date. And seeing you two together, Heeseung doesn’t know why but there’s a strange feeling growing inside him. Something ugly because why would he feel that to you? Someone who he’s not allowed to date, and to Jake, who is a close friend of his.

He shouldn’t feel that bubbling jealousy brewing inside but it didn’t help that there are days where Heeseung sees Jake waiting outside the department building. Jake would even smile and wave at him who only gives him a small smile back. Then, he watches you pass by him, going straight towards Jake who only ruffled your hair while you punched his shoulders lightly.

Sweet. Way too sweet. Heeseung almost wanted to report you two to the disciplinary officer for pda. But as he watches the two of you walk away while laughing, leaving him alone there standing like a fool, that bubbling feeling continues to grow no matter how hard he concealed it.

It didn’t help either that when they went to your place to practice, he immediately noticed a familiar pair of shoes by the doorway.

“Isn’t that Jake hyung’s shoes?” Riki pointed out.

“Oh right, he told me he’ll be here early, he’s with noona,” Jungwon explained nonchalantly as he removed his shoes.

“How come you’re not wary of Jake being too close with y/n?” Sunghoon asked, but there’s a taunting tone in his words.

“They’re orgmates, y/n noona directly reports to Jake hyung. I trust Jake hyung to not break the rule.” and Heeseung is pretty sure that Jungwon gave him a side eye when he said that.

“So you don’t trust us?” Jay teases.

“I didn’t say that,” the younger one went inside first, while Jay and Sunghoon only laughed at the conversation.

As the rest of them entered the living room, they saw you and Jake by the couch. Heeseung raises an eyebrow, seeing you two together, by the couch — where you and Heeseung fucked, had his jaw tightening. Finding it funny how you pretend that everything’s normal.

Files sprawled all over the coffee table along with some half-full iced coffees and a box of donuts. Jake is seated on the floor, glasses on top of his head with his expression as serious as always. While you’re seated on the couch, still wearing your uniform with your laptop on your lap, typing some documents needed.

“Hi guys!” you greeted them first, with Jake following after.

“Y/n noona! I miss you!” Sunoo shouted with glee, sitting beside you and hugging you sideways. As always, you reciprocate the younger’s action.

Heeseung lightly scoffs at how Sunoo can be so close to you, even hugging you while Jungwon doesn’t bat an eye on it.

“I miss you too Noo, how’s part-timing at The Rabbit Hole?” you asked, shifting your seat to face the sophomore.

“Tiring, the new part-timer was so lazy! I have to multitask with everything,” Sunoo sulks, even pouting as he leans on your shoulder, glancing at your laptop’s screen. “What are you doing?”

“Some inquiries and grievances from students and incoming freshmen. Others wanted to transfer programs and also, student assistant job opening,” you answered before scrolling through your file.

“Soobin hyung wanted us to finish it before the end of the school so that we don’t have to worry about the turnover for the next term,” Jake added, letting out a deep sigh as he grabbed the mountful of papers in front of him.

“Well, we’re not disturbing you guys right? We’re going to start our practice,” Sunghoon asked, setting up in the huge empty space in front of them.

“We can move to the dining room, so that it wouldn’t be too loud — are you okay with it?” Jake suggested, glancing at you who only nodded.

“That would be better, we can continue there,” you answered, knowing that you’re still wary around Heeseung.

As Arcanum set up, you and Jake moved your things on the dining table. From there, you can still hear Arcanum practicing, but with the divider and displays, it’s enough to cover you and Jake for privacy and muffle the sound a little.

You and Jake sat together to continue your reports. Heeseung could only glance at the two of you. Seeing how close you two are, both heads are almost touching. If Jungwon had seen it, he would probably be throwing knives now. But Jungwon was too busy practicing the beat on his drums, and instead of knives, Heeseung’s darkening glare is what’s putting a hole on you and Jake.

He hated how close you and Jake are. He hated how he could hear your soft laughter just by looking at you — and you weren’t looking at him, you’re looking at Jake who’s probably cracking some jokes. He couldn’t believe that for the past few weeks, the two of you were together, but now, you’re with somebody else.

And it’s not just somebody else. It’s Jake. A friend of his, the person you’ll hypothetically date if Jungwon’s rules doesn’t exist. The guy that has more chances of dating you than him —

“Heeseung!” A light kick on the shin snapped Heeseung out of reality, turning to his left where Jay looked at him confused.

“We’re good to go, should we start now?” Jay asked, and that’s when Heeseung realized that he’s been staring for too long.

“Oh — yeah, we’ll start in three,” Heeseung replied, signaling them with a countdown.

Riki and Sunoo cheered for Arcanum, sitting on the couch comfortably while Heeseung tried to focus, closing his eyes as he started to strum his guitar.

“Your type of mind, so hard to find,” he sang, cold yet desperate like he was yearning for someone. A soft yet heartbreaking song to start their practice. He can hear Sunoo’s gasp while Riki lets out a whistle.

Heeseung sings the song with feelings, something about the way he sings a song captivates their audience. But Riki and Sunoo were quick to notice how Heeseung’s eyes kept on looking to his left — by the dining room where you and Jake were seated.

Both sophomores looked at each other, a deciphering stare before glancing back at Heeseung whose eyes are still glued to you. It all circled back to them, realizing that there’s something their friend is hiding.

With the way he sings, it doesn't sound like he’s just covering the song, it felt like every word, every lyric came straight from his heart. And looking at you, they know that he’s dedicating it to you.

As they finished the song, they were quick to start for another song. A low strum on Jay’s electric guitar — different from the first song.

“I wanna be your vacuum cleaner. Breathing in your dust,” Heeseung sang in a low tone.

“Woah, Heeseung hyung’s good,” Sunoo mumbled.

“It’s like he’s captivating someone under his spell,” Riki added, glancing at Sunoo who only nodded, knowing what he meant as the two watched as Heeseung sang. His head turned to his left once again.

“Secrets I have held in my heart, are harder to hide than I thought. Maybe I just wanna be yours,” Staring darkly, as he holds onto the mic stand, head turned towards your direction as he continues the song. Dark and tempting like the original.

As the song finished, the band had a short break. Jay looks at Heeseung, a teasing smirk evident on his lips.

“Seems like your audience is somewhere else,” Jay teasingly said.

“Shut up Jay,” Heeseung brushes it off, but it was evident that he immediately shifted towards your direction once again. Like he was hoping that you’ll turn around.

But not even a spare glance was given to them throughout the whole practice. By the time Arcanum finished their practice, so did you and Jake with your reports. Food arrived a few minutes later and the eight of you spent dinner in the living room.

“Can you hear their practice in the dining room?” Riki asked.

“Yeah, but it’s a bit muffled so it wasn’t distracting us, don’t worry,” Jake answered casually, not noticing how Riki and Sunoo snickered at each other.

“You guys seem to be too busy with your reports, that you guys weren’t distracted by Heeseung hyung’s singing,” Sunoo added, tone hinted in a teasing manner.

“Well, Jake insisted on finishing it tonight, and I heard you guys are drinking after dinner,” you laughed, not being able to catch the sophomore’s tone.

“And we did, because y/n is such a great assistant,” Jake compliments, making the other guys holler in teasing.

“Jungwon, did you hear that?” Sunghoon nudged Jungwon who got confused immediately.

“Hey Jake, don’t forget Jungwon’s rule,” Jay added, earning laughter in the living room — that including you and Jake.

“I only said she’s a great assistant! Is it bad to compliment her?” Jake defensively replied.

Meanwhile Heeseung could only roll his eyes discreetly as he continued stuffing himself with rice. From there, Jungwon chuckles — a different reaction from his usual get-go wherein he’ll be pissed the moment they got linked to you.

“Shut up hyungs,” Jungwon could only say. “By the way, you’re not going to join us noona?”

“I think I’m going to avoid drinking from now on,” you answered, knowing that the last time you drank, disaster happened.

You could hear Heeseung clearing his throat, but you chose to ignore it and took the last bite on your food. Standing up from your seat before thanking them for the dinner, and reminding Jungwon to clean up the mess after.

It was nine in the evening when you decided to call it a night, the remaining of them stayed in the living room with some alcohol to drink the night away. You’ve already known that they’re going to stay overnight — and probably will wake up by lunch.

Saying goodbye to them, even drinking one shot because they insist, you went to your room and had your alone time.

After taking a shower and changing into your sleeping clothes, you grabbed your laptop to do some last minute write-ups. Reviewing every page you’ve written, and then closing the tab to watch some youtube videos.

You don’t know what’s going on downstairs. You sometimes hear their loud laughter and teasing, it was muffled enough for you not to be disturbed, and as the night deepens, the noise downstairs slowly becomes quiet.

That’s when you decided to go to sleep. Closing your laptop, and locking your door. You turned on your nightshade and closed your bedroom’s light. As you nestled underneath your blanket, you closed your eyes, immersing yourself with the silence.

But it didn’t help you relax at all, you can feel your heart beating fast and as you open your eyes, that’s when it hits you that you’re not sleepy yet.

Thoughts running inside your mind that whenever you close your eyes, and shuffle through different positions, you just can’t bear to sleep. You placed your hand on your chest, feeling your heart still palpitating and you’re blaming it on the coffee you bought.

Frustratedly, you sat up to grab your phone, noticing that it’s already past one am.

You don’t know what to do, so you scrolled through your social media in hopes that sleep might knock you down. But minutes turned into an hour and you became frustrated furthermore.

Your frustration was interrupted when a knock on the door startled you. You let out a sigh because you already told Jungwon that he doesn't have to knock on your room if he’s going to inform you that his friends’ are going home.

But instead of your younger brother, your eyes widened when it was Heeseung who’s in front of your room.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, whispering. “You can’t be here!”

“Don’t worry, they’re either passed-out drunk or deeply asleep,” Heeseung laughs, the smell of alcohol reeking on his breath as he leaned on your door frame.

“What do you even want, Heeseung?” you asked, crossing your arms at him.

But Heeseung looks at you drowsily, “you’re one of a kind, you know that?”

You didn’t say a word. Slowly, he enters your room, making you step backward. Quietly, you watch him close the door even locking it — and you let him be. You didn’t stop him nor pushed him away. You remained from where you were standing, because deep inside, you wanted to know why Heeseung suddenly barged into your room in the middle of the night.

“I’m still thinking about that night, about us, everything about us y/n — you’re driving me crazy you know that?” you can hear the frustration dripping on his tone.

“Heeseung, you’re drunk.” you answered instead.

Heeseung only laughs at your words. “Oh no sweetheart, I didn’t even drink that much. So I know damn well what I’m saying, and since you’re sober and completely awake, I’m confident that you won’t run away from me anymore.”

You didn’t say a word. Heeseung gives you a smile. The boyish sweet smile that tugs your heart.

“After you told me that you like me, even though you were drunk, it made me realize something,” Heeseung became quiet for a second. “I really thought about it. Even convincing myself that being single is fun, but fuck it, maybe I prefer being with you.”

It wasn’t a direct confession, but you know what he was trying to say. You stopped your tracks, softly glancing at him who slackens his jaw.

“I was ready to tell you that but you shut me off first, because you know how important Arcanum was, and you don’t want to ruin my friendship with Jungwon.” Heeseung explained, and that’s when it hits you. That talk you two had, he was supposed to say something but you cut him off.

“And I respected that y/n — that even made me admire you more. You were willing to set aside your feelings for Jungwon. I even convinced myself that maybe the single life is for me,” Heeseung heaves out a sigh. Brushing his hair before glancing at you, his eyes darkening.

“Really, I tried my best to respect your decision, but seeing you with Jake? What was that? Are you playing with me?”

“Heeseung —”

But Heeseung lets out a mocking laughter, finding himself stupid for accusing you of that. “Of course you’re not, I’m just overthinking and who am I even to overthink? I’m just your brother’s friend.”

Silence. For a moment, no one said a word. Heeseung approaches you darkly, making you step backward until you hit the edge of your bed, clumsily making you sit at it. Heeseung boldly hovers over you, both arms trapping you as he leans closer to you, face an inch close to you.

“But maybe I don’t want to be seen as your brother’s friend anymore. I want to be yours instead, I want to be your boyfriend.” he whispered to you, surprising you with the statement that your eyes could only widen.

“And I don’t care about Jungwon anymore, he’ll have to fucking live with that fact.” He stated. Heeseung doesn’t care about the consequences anymore. All he wants is you, and if it means ruining friendship, he’ll be willing to fight for your relationship with him.

“Heeseung —”

“Don’t think about Jungwon anymore y/n, I like you — hell, I think I’m in love with you. I want to be yours. Just tell me that you want this too.” Heeseung pleaded, and you just couldn’t believe it. Heeseung begging for your love? You know that this is too good to be true — too good that it’s forbidden at the same time. But as you look at Heeseung’s soft, round bambi eyes, you just couldn’t help but to melt for him.

“I just never thought that you’ll be within my reach.” you confessed, hands cupping his cheeks. “Heeseung, I’ve liked you since we were freshman, but you’re just so unreachable for me.”

“Unreachable? y/n, you’re the unreachable one, you’re basically locked in your younger brother’s rule.”

“Not what I meant but, everything just feels so surreal for me, everything about us — is this even real?” your mind is still clouded, but your heart was racing rapidly. It’s celebrating inside. There were fireworks, butterflies, any fluttering feeling that you can feel to convince you that Heeseung, the guy that you’ve been yearning for years, likes you back.

“I’ll make it real for you then,” Heeseung leans closer, locking you to a kiss. Immediate and hungry, feeling his soft lips against yours made your knees weak, the fluttering feeling becoming too good that your heart is going to burst at that moment. Tasting the alcohol on his tongue as it swipes it lightly on your lower lips. Moaning against your lips as he bites onto your bottom lip harshly that his teeth scratches a wound to it.

You broke from the kiss, catching your breath as you tasted the blood on your lips, but Heeseung grabs your face, pulling you for another kiss. Feverish as he sucks the blood oozing from your lips, making you whine as his tongue laps on the wound.

“You were pretty drunk that night we did it, how about I recreate it for you? Show you that I mean everything?” he swore the moment you two broke the kiss once again.

Gently, he pushes you down to your bed, crawling over you and crashing his lips on yours again. But it’s softer this time, gentle like he’s trying to memorize your lips.

He started peppering you with kisses, full of love as he began lowering his lips on your neck. His lips raveling every skin as he planted marks near your collarbone. One, two, three — until every skin around your neck and chest is full of marks. Heeseung stands up to see his art. Lust-struck stare as he looks at you, teary-eyed and swollen, wounded lips. His heart swells with pride because you’re his to keep.

“God, look at you gorgeous,” he whispered, as he started to unbutton his school uniform. You followed his actions as you sat up from your bed, taking off the thin, old shirt revealing your naked chest underneath.

“Want you,” you told him, round, innocent-like eyes staring at him as you boldly palmed the print of his cock underneath the slacks.

“Go on,” he gestured, giving you a kiss on top of your head as you unzipped his slacks, pulling it down along with his boxers.

Heeseung’s cock sprang free. Your eyes wide at how it’s huge despite being soft. Remembering how it pounded into your holes. Feeling your core pulsing at the sight, wanting for it to be inside you but your mind wants to return the favor. You wanted to pleasure Heeseung like what he did to you.

You started by giving its head soft kitten kisses. Glancing at Heeseung who only nods, hands finding its way towards your hair, holding it like a makeshift ponytail which was your approval. Your tongue started to find its way. Swirling on the tip, salivating every inch it can reach until you gathered enough saliva to drool on his almost hardening cock.

You hold his cock in a soft grip, stroking it as your hand lubricates it with your drool. Looking up at Heeseung with lust-drunken eyes before slowly sinking your mouth on his cock, and Heeseung could only throw his head out of pleasure. A breathy moan escaped his lips as you started bobbing in and out of his cock.

Adjusting to its size, you started slow and gentle, just enough to make him hard. Heeseung’s grip on your hair started to tug, unconsciously pushing your head which made you fasten your pace. Cheeks hollow as your lips sucked him. Tongue trailing along with it, licking its underside.

“Fuck just like that, a pretty girl is sucking me hard,” Heeseung moans as his dick twitch inside your warm mouth. Knowing that it’s been so long since a girl has given him a head, Heeseung would’ve never thought that it’ll end him being sensitive.

You continued bobbing your head, fast and hard leaving Heeseung moaning and whining as he unconsciously bucked his hips towards you. The tip of his dick hitting your throat, making you gag by the action but that didn’t stop you, it only had your cunt throbbing.

“You can be rough with me,” you said as you pulled away from him, something inside you awakened. Teary-eyes looking up at him, and Heeseung swore that you even looked prettier than ever.

“You sure? I don’t want to hurt you,” Heeseung asked with a worried tone.

You only roll your eyes, “You’re acting like you weren’t rough that night.” you said before you sucked him once again.

“I’m not holding back then,” he started by thrusting his hips inside your mouth, earning another choking gag from you. “You’re so warm, your pretty little mouth is so tight for me too.”

Both hands find its way on your head, holding it steady as he started to fuck your mouth. You could only hold onto his hips for balance as his thrust became fast and harsh that drool started to trail down your chin.

“You feel — fuck,” Heeseung moans. “So good to me — can’t believe you’re mine.” the sounds Heeseung made had you throbbing more than ever. Your eyes are pooled with tears as his bulging head continues to abuse your throat.

“Want you to be inside you,” Heeseung breathes, mercilessly pounding inside you before pulling his dick out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for air.

“Want to come inside you,” Heeseung drunkenly said. Grabbing your chin and wiping the drool away before sloppily giving you a kiss. “Ride me baby, want to see a pretty girl on top of me.”

You hastily remove the rest of your pajamas as Heeseung climbs over your bed, resting on the headboard as he straddles you to his lap. Your wet pussy on top of his dick, grinding on it while both hands are on your waist.

Raising your hips a little, you grabbed Heeseung’ cock to align it on your entrance, whimpering as his bulging tip kissed your pussy’s lips before you slowly sink down, feeling every inch of his dick open your pussy, moaning in pleasure until he’s fully sheathed.

“Heeseung — fuck,” you moaned as you started bouncing up and down. Your walls wet and warm, as his cock slides inside you, feeling him deeper than before. Every inch and veins of his dick is all you can feel as his head continues to kiss your cervix, knocking you out of breath everytime it happens.

Heeseung could only moan loudly as he watched you ride him. You had your head thrown back as your tits bounced in front of him. He could get off just by watching you. His pretty girl, riding his dick, whining loudly as you continued to call his name — not caring about whether Jungwon or his other friends might hear you.

You let out a yelp when Heeseung smacks your ass cheeks, his smirk widening as he meets you thrust, bucking his hips upwards. Vulgar sounds and body slapping against each other echoed around the room as the two of you continued to drown into each other’s pleasure.

Heeseung adjusted his position, sitting up and pulling you closer to him. Stopping your movement when you feel him wraps his arms around you. Coming face to face with you, Heeseung could only smile as he swiped your hair that was stuck on your face, making you fawn a smile.

“Can’t believe your mine,” he said excitedly, like he was a high school kid, making you laugh before cupping his face, cheeks squeezing which delighted you more.

“I’m yours Hee,” you mumbled, and you can’t believe that those words came out from your mouth.

Heeseung pulled you to a loving kiss, before he started thrusting inside. With him continuing your movement, you remove yourself from him before resting your head on his shoulder as your hands find their way on his back. Nails scratching as the pleasure became too intense to you.

Loud moans and whimpers continued to fill the room. You cried to his ears as your nails pressed harder on his back. Tears falling away from your eyes as Heeseung felt you twitch above him, slowly not being able to bounce on him as your toes started curling.

“You want to cum pretty girl?” he whispered to you, and you could only nod feverishly, making Heeseung thrust harder than before, adjusting his pace until his cocks slid into your most sensitive spot.

“Heeseung — ah!” you choke out a moan as your orgasm came in just a glimpse. Your body was shaking, holding Heeseung tightly while his thrust became faster, chasing after his orgasm, which made you cry harder.

“Hee — inside” you cried. “Inside please — ugh, want to feel you.”

Fuck. Heeseung curses internally. You just can’t say that and expect him to act rationally. With the way your pussy’s sucking him in had his dick twitching. Heavy groans and whimpers escaping his lips as he continued to fuck your overly sensitive inside.

In a minute, Heeseung groans loudly as he spills his warm seeds inside you, making you moan in pleasure, as he continues to thrust you until he’s too tired to move.

For a moment, none of you moved, Heeseung held you tightly as he caught his breath. His dick still inside yours, twitching and sensitive. So warm for him that he just wanted to be inside you. Heeseung lays down in bed along with you. Everything was sticky and warm, but you two didn’t care. The only thing you can feel was Heeseung’s warmth and the faint beating of his chest.

“What now?” you asked, clarity finally getting inside your senses.

“Well —” Heeseung groans as your hips unconsciously move. “Don’t move, you’re making me hard.”

But you smile at him evilly, grinding at him who let out a soft moan.

“Stop that — fuck.”

“Or what?”

Heeseung glares at you. And before you could say another word, he grabs you by your waist and pushes you down with your back hitting the mattress. Heeseung hovers over you as he does an experimental thrust inside you, making you whine.

“You’re going to pay for this,” Heeseung swore, and you can only chuckle as you feel him hardening inside you.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” you said, hands finding the back of his hair and pulling him down for a kiss.

Surely, it was a long night for the two of you.

You stared at Heeseung’s sleeping figure. Peaceful and gentle as your hands reached for it, trailing on his messy hair. The way his cheeks are squeezed against the pillow, soft lips pouting in default. Heeseung looks so pretty and you can’t believe that this is the first thing you saw the moment you open your eyes.

You don’t know what time it is. All you know is that it’s morning. The sun is up, and the spring breeze passes through your window’s curtain. Underneath the sheets were your naked bodies, warm and sticky, yet intimate to feel.

It’s been a few minutes since you woke up, and unlike the last time when you woke up alone, Heeseung is right next to you. You were staring at him for so long that you know that you’ll look like a creep, but it’s the morning haze that has your mind still unwinding everything that happened. That’s why it’s still not sinking into you that Heeseung is sleeping beside you.

It’s as if he felt your gaze, Heeseung’s lips curved into a smile. Your eyes widened when you felt his arms pulling you towards him, head resting on his chest as you two bathed in the warm sunlight passing through the window.

“You’re going to melt me with your stare,” Heeseung mumbled.

“Sorry, I just — haven’t sinked in everything,” you replied.

Heeseung softly chuckles, a soft kiss planting on top of your head as he caresses your hair, “you want to do it again?”

“We had enough Hee!” you said immediately, punching his chest which only made him laugh.

“I’m just kidding,” he said, resting his chin underneath your head.

Silence faltered the room. Only your soft breathing can be heard, Heeseung’s hands continue to caress your hair while as you rest on his chest, you can feel his heartbeat — faster than usual, and you wonder if it’s because of you.

“We should go on a date,” Heeseung suggested. “Our first official date as a couple, what do you think?”

“That would be nice,” you whispered.

“Should we do it later? It’s a Saturday, do you want to go out or stay indoors? Oh wait — do you want to go to other museums? Oh maybe we should try those painting sessions with wine.”

You only laughed at his words. “You’re taking this seriously.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I am so happy that you’re my girlfriend now, we’re going to do everything together~”

“That has a nice ring on it boyfriend,” you look at him before giving a quick kiss. “How about we decide on that later? For now, let’s just stay like this for a while.”

Heeseung nods, closing his eyes as he pulls you closer to his touch. The solemn silence hovering as both hearts hold each other dearly. Everything feels like a dream. You felt peaceful not until a loud banging on the door startled you. That’s when you remember —

“Heeseung hyung! I know you’re in there!” you scrambled from your position as a familiar voice boomed outside your room, but Heeseung remained unfazed.

“Jungwon might see us!” you panicked, trying to look for your clothes on the floor.

“He’ll live,” Heeseung drowsily said, grabbing you and trapping you in his arms. “Let’s just rest here for a while.”

“Heeseung! Can we at least get dressed!?” you shouted, glancing at the door wherein any minute now, your younger brother will barge in.

But a teasing smile formed on your boyfriend’s lips, kissing the end of your nose as he snuggled you closer like you’re his teddy bear. “Don’t worry about that.”

“Heeseung hyung! You’re dead to me — what the fuck!?” The banging stopped, but you can hear shouting and cursings from the outside, along with Sunghoon’s loud laughter followed by a light scowling from Sunoo.

“Don’t worry about Jungwon! But you owe us one, asshole!” Jay shouted through the door.

“Holy fucking shit, he’s like a wild cat,” Jake laughs.

“What the hell, Jungwon hyung scratched me!” Riki shouted.

You don’t know what’s happening outside, they’re probably tackling your younger brother. You can hear Heeseung snickering as he lightly sways you, assuring you that everything will be alright. You glance at him, he has a soft smile on his lips making you melt. Slowly, your worries disappear as you feel safer in Heeseung’s hold.

Epilogue.

“Decelis are you ready!?” Heeseung shouted through the mic.

School has just ended. Fortunately, you’ve passed the second semester with ease. Now, you’re anticipating the two month vacation before senior year arrives. Feeling a rush of excitement and nervousness because next year is going to be your last year in college.

But for now, you’re with the thousands of students, at Decelis University’s open field. It’s the annual year-end concert. A celebration for the success of the end of an academic year. Decelis typically invite bands and singers to perform — of course, Arcanum was part of the line-up.

You screamed along Karina and Yunah as Jay opened the performance with a one-minute guitar solo, shouting “Are you ready to rock!?” causing everyone to scream louder. You could only fawn over the boy who’s rocking the stage while your boyfriend ran around the stage, dancing freestyle along the beat.

You watched as Heeseung returned to the center, placing the mic on the stand before he started singing It’s not living (If it’s not with you) by The 1975. His voice filled the whole place as cheers became loud the moment he sang the first line.

“That’s my boyfriend!” you shouted, making Yunah and Karina tackle you teasingly.

“We get it! Gosh, you won this one, y/n,” Karina teased.

“You managed to bag the most wanted guy in Decelis, I think we need tips from you,” Yunah added.

“I think you should stop playing with fire, and just tell him what you feel instead,” you replied to Yunah who only rolled her eyes.

“I’ll just die instead,” she nonchalantly replied. Glancing back at the led screen wherein they’re showing Jungwon who’s too immersed with playing the drums.

After the first song, Sunghoon immediately shifted the vibe by playing a soft intro of a familiar song. Heeseung smiles as he places his hand on the mic stand.

“We’re going to change the vibe from here, any lovers around here?” and he boldly raised his hands, earning screams from the crowd. A few students raising their hands while single people are booing jokingly.

The smile on Heeseung’s lips turned wider as he feels along with the song, “Feel like sun on my skin

So this is love, I know it is.”

You only stood there, watching as Heeseung continued singing. Even dancing along with it, pretending like the mic stand is his partner. Swinging it lightly as he turned his attention towards the crowd once again. A smirk on his lips as he winks flirtily.

“Gosh, and he wonders why hundreds of girls are head over heels to him,” you stated.

“And sadly, he’s not available anymore!” Karina shouted. “Seriously, we need a crowning moment for you.”

Your relationship with Heeseung wasn’t that officially launched. It’s not that you two decided to keep it secret, but you two don't see the need to officially launch it. Let people wonder. You two menacingly agreed. Only your close friends knew about you two being a couple.

Of course, some small public displays of affection weren’t subtle like the way you two are now seated together in the classroom, or some people seeing Heeseung carrying your bag. — it’s safe to say that people are quick to conclude that you two have something going on. If it’s serious or not, that’s what they don’t know.

“Thank you so much Decelis University for having us here. We are really happy to perform in front of you guys, your energy gives us energy, but sadly we only have one last song left,” Heeseung stated after finishing another song, earning a few “awww” and “noooo” from the crowd, even chanting for one more song.

“For the last song, this one is our very first composed song. We dedicated our time in composing and writing the lyrics, and this is the first time we will be performing it. So hopefully, you guys will love it.” Heeseung explained, his smile turning wide like he was proud to introduce the song.

“More like you wrote the lyrics,” Jay pointed out, which made the crowd scream. “The things love do, am I right?” and that made the crowd scream louder.

Heeseung only laughs, he didn’t even try to ignore it at all. “Are you ready for a serenade, Decelis?”

For a moment, there was silence. Shortly, a few strums from Heeseung’s guitar escape as he softly hums to the mic. His eyes closed like he’s feeling along with the song.

He started the verse with a soft tone. Dearly like he’s dedicating the song to someone. You’re not slow to pick up the lyrics of the song. It meant something and that’s when you can feel your heart start beating fast. You only stood there, frozen as you watched your boyfriend sing in front of a thousands of crowd.

“I want you to know, I love you the most, I'll always be there right by your side,” Heeseung sings, opening his eyes and even though you’re far from the stage, and even if you’re just watching him from the screen, he smiles widely like he’s staring at you.

“'Cause baby, you're always in my mind, just give me your forever.” You can feel your heart tugging. It swells with joy as you watch your boyfriend sing his love for you in front of a crowd. His heavenly voice swooning every student, especially you. He continued singing, mesmerizing the crowd with how he sang it — like he’s swearing his vows for you.

“Just give me your forever.” he sang one last time before taking a bow.

Cheers started to become louder. Continuous screams from the student as they started chanting Arcanum’s name. Heeseung could only smile as he gestured to his friends to take the center for a short photo time and final goodbye.

It didn’t sinked into you that Arcanum just finished their set. It was until Karina and Yunah pulled you to go towards the department building that serves as a backstage area because you promised Heeseung that you’ll be meeting them afterwards.

You found them in one of the classrooms, laughing as they stuffed themselves with snacks prepared by the university. As soon as Heeseung sees you, his smile widens as he walks towards you before pulling you to a hug, even carrying you and twirling you like you two are the only people in the room.

“Okay that’s enough, give respect to single people here!” Jay shouted but his words slipped out of your ears when Heeseung pulled you for a kiss, soft and eager, earning mixed reactions from the people inside.

“I can’t believe I’ll be seeing this for the rest of my life,” Jungwon cringed.

“You’ll live,” Yunah taunted, sticking her tongue out to the drummer who only rolled his eyes.

“The song —” you breathe the moment you two broke the kiss, “you wrote the lyrics?”

“You like it?” Heeseung asked, thumb grazing your cheeks.

“I love it! It’s beautiful,” you smiled.

“It’s for you.”

That’s when you took a step back, eyes wide but filled with happiness as you could only smile wider, squishing your boyfriend’s soft cheeks which is a form of endearment for you.

“I can’t believe you.” you giggled.

“Did you even hear what Jay said?” Heeseung mumbled, grabbing your cheeks the same way, before planting a kiss on your lips one more time.

“Of course,” you grinned. “Just want to hear it from you.”

“Stop that you guys! Or we’ll have to report you for pda!” Karina shouted, along with the others throwing tissues and some light stuff which you two avoided — even Jungwon didn’t hesitate to throw his drumsticks at the two of you.

But the two of you only laughed at their antics. Heeseung gives you a sweet kiss on your temples, as he puts his arms around your shoulders, holding you dearly.

And as you glance at him, you could only rest your head on his shoulder, fiddling with his hands resting on your shoulder — a way for you to feel that Heeseung is yours, at arms length on your reach.

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dduane · 5 months ago

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I have been trying to write fic (well, smut) set in a world where certain things are slightly different to serve the fic's plot.

However, each time I try I have run into a problem: my head insists I need to justify the changes - I need to know comprehensive details about how the world works so I can ensure everything is consistent and not too f'd up.

So I get bogged down, and don't write a word. What do?

In your position, I’d sit down and write myself a bible.

This is how I did my prep for Barbie: Fairytopia.* And how I’ve done it for various works of fic presently on AO3… and how I’m doing it right now for the new Sherlock Holmes and the Giant Rats of Sumatra III project. I was taught this art by my animation story editors at Hanna-Barbera, and it’s stood me in good stead. (Peter and I pulled down our first miniseries assignment from a company that told us “we gave great bible.” And that was true.) 😄

When I say “bible” I don’t necessarily mean something that thick! (Though some of mine have been pretty hefty, with one TV project’s bible running more than a hundred pages… because I knew I had skeptical and underinformed TV execs to convince about something historical.) For the kind of purpose we’re describing here, your prep bible could be quite short: maybe looking like a bullet-pointed “shopping list”, five or ten pages long. It can be just as long or short as it needs to be to cover all your salient points.

The idea is simply to put down, in concrete form, a list of the main “different things” you need to know and remember about your alternate universe when you’re working in it. This is where you do your justification work, in as much or as little detail as you need to convince yourself you’ve got the necessary bases covered. The virtual “stage manager” who sits at the back of the theater of the Writing Department in your mind, judging when things are right, will be your guide here, and will advise you as to when you’ve got enough and it’s time to stop. And once this stuff is down on the page, you’ll be a position to judge critically whether everything makes enough sense to work with, and slots together correctly.

This is also a bit like (for the prose part of a project) outlining, in that it’s incredibly freeing. Once you’ve got this background nailed down, you know you can safely turn your attention away from it and get down to the serious business: drama, and the character interactions that express it. (And inevitably as you’re doing the bible writing, you start getting ideas for how the substrate you’re laying down is going to affect the conflicts between and among the characters. The bible stage can be incredibly fruitful this way.)

It would be facile to describe the bibling process as “getting the easy part over with first”. Because sometimes it’s not easy! But it’s worth doing first, because having done this first relieves you of the ongoing anxiety caused by knowing you may have to keep inventing or rationalizing stuff on the fly. (Which can produce the kind of micro-blocks that a writer can generally really do without.) …Not that you’re not going to be inventing things on the fly anyway: that’s a normal part of the writing process. But the biggest and most obvious issues will have been handled already, and you’ll know they have; which is always a weight off one’s mind. And the fewer of those weights you have loading you down, when you’re in the midst of the labor of composition, the better.

Anyway, give it a shot and see how it works for you. And then you can, like the rest of us smut writers, get on to the really pressing business: making sure you haven’t lost track of where all the characters’ arms and legs (and things) are when you’re writing those hot steamy sex scenes. 😏

Hope this helps!

*ETA: My remit on this job did include creating a bible for them. But I write a rough-draft one for myself first, including various meta that I needed but they didn't.

#writing #writing advice #worldbuilding #bibles

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scuderiahoney · 2 years ago

Text

Stick Around

Oscar Piastri x bestfriend!reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’ve been searching for your soulmate your whole life. Maybe you’ve just been looking in the wrong place.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, cheating/infidelity (not by a main character I promise) mild swearing, excessive use of italics

|Age 20|

“You can’t seriously still be reading that stuff,” Oscar says.

You peer at him over the top of your magazine.

“What stuff?” You ask, playing innocent.

“Your horoscope,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Haven’t you outgrown that yet?”

You shrug, directing your gaze back to the page in front of you. Today, you should avoid the color pink and embrace your skepticism. Oscar’s doing enough of the last part for the both of you. You could gain a great deal of information from social interactions. That’s helpful- you’ve been in search of some gossip. Your soulmate is just a click away- wait, no, that’s an ad. You huff and set the magazine down on the table. Oscar nods in agreement.

“I just think maybe it’s better to live your life without worrying about what the stars say,” Oscar says, waving his hands around in a way that you think is supposed to represent the stars. “Just, like… do what you want to do.”

“I do,” you mutter dryly. “Doesn’t hurt to have some advice, though.”

The two of you have always been like this. Oscar is a skeptic, you’re a believer. He calls it being easy to brainwash, says it in a teasing way that makes you glare at him every time. He’s taken it as his responsibility to keep you from falling for things. You’ve told him time and time again that you’re fine on your own. You just like the idea of predestiny, that what’s going to happen was always meant to.

Oscar is just worried you’ll join the first cult you cross paths with.

|Age 5|

It’s the day after you turn 5 when you first hear the word soulmate. Sol-meight. You sound it out through your lips, sticky with jam from your breakfast. Your best friend at the time, a girl whose name you’ve long since forgotten, had said it.

“S’when you’re meant to be,” she explains, in that all knowing tone that only little kids who know nothing at all seem to have. “Like, my mum and dad say they’re soulmates.”

Oscar, who’s sitting next to you, scoffs. “Everyone’s parents say that. Doesn’t mean it’s true.”

He’s taller than you, even sitting down, hair cut short after one of his sisters stuck gum in it a few days ago. His cheeks are rosy red, and there’s cream cheese on his nose. Years later, Oscar’s face will be one of the first ones you ever remember meeting. Right now, he’s just the boy in your class whose mother knows your mother, and because of that, he’s the boy who rides to school with you in the backseat. He’s not the worst, you guess. He’s… okay. Sort of just… always there.

“Is too!” Your friend says, shaking her head, pigtails bouncing. “Mum says there’s signs.”

“What kinda signs?” You ask, and Oscar turns to look at you in disbelief.

She shrugs. “Dunno. I’ll ask later.”

She comes back to the breakfast table the next day with a magazine page, torn haphazardly and slightly crumpled. On it is a list of signs someone could be your soulmate. The two of you pore over the page at every available opportunity for at least a week, barely able to read all the words.

Your friend forgets about soulmates a month later and moves on to an obsession with Barbie dolls. You carry the magazine page with you for years after that, until it’s worn and falling apart. Then you copy down the list into a safer place, worried you’ll lose it forever. 15 Signs He’s Your Soulmate, written with magic marker on pink construction paper and stowed away in your desk.

|Age 10|

“I hate olives,” you sneer, staring at the very last slice of pizza.

It’s a birthday party. You can’t for the life of you understand why there’s pizza with olives on it. Olives don’t belong on pizza- not much does, in your opinion. Just pepperoni, really. Maybe a sprinkle of Parmesan cheese, if you’re feeling fancy.

Katy, one of your classmates, is standing next to you. “I love olives. Here, I’ll pick them off for you and you can have the last slice.”

The pizza still tastes a bit like olives in the end, probably baked into the cheese, but it’s better than it would’ve been. Katy is your best friend after that. The two of you are inseparable from the moment you get to school until the moment you leave. You beg your mothers for sleepovers on the weekends, for day trips during holiday breaks. YouandKaty. Your names melt together until they become one.

Oscar still rides to school with you in the morning. Sometimes, Katy does too. Katy doesn’t like Oscar. She doesn’t like most boys, calls them gross. Since Katy thinks boys are gross, you do too.

“Be nice to Oscar,” your mother tells you one morning. “He’s not done anything to you.”

You’re in the backseat of the car, on the way to his house. “He’s a boy. Boys are gross.”

Your mother sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose. She says your name sternly, and you shrink in your seat. When Oscar gets in, you say hello and force a smile.

Oscar’s the one who finds you crying on the playground. You thought you’d chosen a better hiding place, really- nobody had bugged you in your spot between the two large myrtle trees. But Oscar finds you anyways. You can’t even bring yourself to tell him to go away, too busy feeling sorry for yourself.

“Wha’s wrong?” He asks.

His cheeks are red- he’s likely been running around with the other boys. You shrug, pulling up another clump of grass and letting it fall from your fingers. Oscar sighs, scuffs his toe in the dirt.

“Katy doesn’t wanna be friends anymore,” you say, rubbing at your bare knee. “She says I’m not cool enough.”

Katy likes olives. You don’t. It’s on the soulmate list. You’re meant to be best friends.

Oscar’s quiet for a moment. Then- “That’s stupid. You’re like, the coolest person I know.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “Shut up.”

“M’serious,” he says. He holds his hand out to you. “Wanna come play cricket with the gross boys?”

You take his hand, wipe your tears with your other hand. “Yeah. I do.”

|Age 12|

“Are you and Dad soulmates?” You ask your mother one morning, before you even leave the house.

She’s standing at the counter, a piece of toast in her hand, half eaten. Her coffee is half drank, too.

She tilts her head at you. “What do you mean, love?”

“Like, when you met, did you just know he was the one? Did it feel meant to be?”

She laughs. “Oh, god no. We were polar opposites. Barely spoke to each other for the first year after we met.”

You stare at her in surprise. “What changed?”

She sighs, wistfully, staring into her mug. “He asked me if I wanted an orange. I said yes. And when he handed it to me, he’d peeled it for me.”

You blink. “Because you hate peeling oranges.”

“I do,” she agrees. “Love isn’t just a feeling, it’s an action. I think love is more about the choices we make and the things we remember about each other than whatever is written in the stars, honey.”

|Age 15|

There’s a boy on the football team- Ryan. Ryan has dark, curly hair and long, long eyelashes and this smile that makes your heart melt and your brain all fuzzy. Ryan doesn’t like olives, either, but he has a birthmark on the back of his right hand in the shape of a lopsided heart, and if you squint hard enough, you have one that matches on the back of your left arm. You stare at in the mirror for hours after he points it out, his hand on your arm.

You stare at your lips in the mirror for hours, too, after he kisses you for the first time. You think maybe you look different. You must. You’d never been kissed before, but Ryan hadn’t minded.

You go on group dates with him, because you’re nervous and your parents think you’re a bit too young to really be dating. You go to the mall, the movies, the diner down the street from the school. It’s your first taste of freedom.

Oscar asks you if you really like Ryan, like- “like like him?”, one day when you’re sitting in his backyard. Your mothers are inside, drinking wine. His sisters are in the pool, you’re laying out in the sun. Oscar sits under an umbrella and squints at the brightness of the world around him.

“Yeah,” you say, in the same tone you’d say duh or of course. “I think he’s my soulmate.”

“Why’s that?” Oscar asks tilting his head.

“We have matching birthmarks,” you say, again, in the same tone.

Oscar forms his mouth into a little o shape. You squint at him, pushing yourself to sit up.

“Why’re you so worried about it, anyways?”

“M’not,” Oscar says, crossing his leg over his knee. “S’just. He’s kind of an arse, isn’t he?”

He whispers the curse word so his sisters won’t hear. Oscar’s big into karting and racing right now, and the older boys at the tracks swear like sailors. There’s a swear jar stuffed to the brim sitting on the kitchen counter inside, right next to the half empty wine bottle.

Ryan is a bit of an arse, you’ll admit. To almost everyone.

“He’s nice to me,” you shrug. “He brought me flowers, yesterday. Isn’t that what matters?”

Oscar shrugs. He doesn’t ask about Ryan again.

Oscar is the one who brings you flowers when Ryan cheats on you and the other girl tells the whole school. He brings them to your bedroom door and you let him in. He sits with you, even as you cry, the door open the parentally required six inches. He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t tell you he warned you. He just stays.

When Oscar moves to England, you wave goodbye with a smile. Then you lock yourself in your room and bawl your eyes out for a week straight, harder than you ever did about Ryan.

|Age 18|

Your university roommate, Emma, was born on the same day as you, at the exact same time. Down to the minute. You find it out on your second day of living together. It’s fate, kismet, meant to be. The stars and planets were aligned exactly the same way when you both took your first breaths.

Oscar laughs when you tell him, though he does admit that it’s a pretty cool coincidence. You’re chatting with him on the phone, telling him about your first week of university. You talk a lot, despite the distance. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, or whatever.

You and Emma aren’t in any classes together- you have completely different majors. Despite this, you still become fast friends. You study together in your room and in the library, meet up for meals, and join a book club together. When Emma gets invited to her very first uni party, she brings you along with her. Your closets become shared.

You visit her family over the winter break for a week. She lives closer to the beach, and you love getting to soak up the sun with her and meet all the childhood friends you’ve heard stories about. Oscar comes home for his break and texts you, wondering when you’ll be back and if you’ll even have time for me, or are you too cool for me now?

You tackle him with a hug when you see him, standing at the kitchen counter in your house when you get there. He’s laughing and pushing you off of him, acting like he didn’t miss you just as much. You know he did. It’s written all over the smile on his face.

Emma visits your family later in the break, and that’s when you have your first fight.

“He’s definitely in love with you,” she insists from her spot on the air mattress on your floor.

She’s talking about Oscar, who she just met today. You’d brought her with to a barbecue at his family’s house. You’re regretting that choice. She’s spent all night afterwards pointing out all the signs that he’s in love with you- his hand on your shoulder, the look in his eyes, the way he smiled at you.

“He’s not,” you say, cheeks burning hot. “He’s- we’re friends.”

“Friends, right. Guys and girls can’t be just friends,” she says.

“Yes, they can!” You say indignantly.

Emma ignores you, rolls over, and goes to sleep. She leaves for home the next day- not earlier than she was supposed to, but it feels weird anyways. When you get back to campus, things feel different. You never really talk about the fight, though there wasn’t much to talk about, anyways. It’s not like she’s mean to you- the two of you still hang out, still see each other often. But Emma makes new friends, and you do too, and you stop doing everything together. It’s alright, you suppose, it’s just…

You were supposed to be destined to be friends. But soulmates shouldn’t be this easy to let go of. It’s written in the stars, it’s shouldn’t fade away like this.

Months ago, you and Emma had talked about spending the holiday break somewhere far away- somewhere tropical, exotic, so grown up and chic. But it hasn’t come up lately, and then she mentions a trip she’s taking with some friends from her classes. You book a flight to England instead and see Oscar in his new home for the first time.

You have new roommates next year. None of them have the same birthdate as you. You think that’s okay.

|Age 21|

There’s a stain on your dress, someone’s wine or sangria or cranberry juice that they’d been too clumsy with. You suppose it could be yours- you’re really not sure. It’s your fault for wearing such a light color to a club like this.

It’s your birthday. You’ve been able to drink for a few years, but it’s still your birthday, and for once, Oscar is there for it. Or really, you’re there for it, there being England. You’re on yet another trip to visit him, money saved and scraped together from your job on your breaks from school. Oscar helped pay for the plane ticket as a birthday present, and your parents got you a new luggage set to take along.

Oscar’s disappeared- at the bar, you remember, closing out his tab. You check your phone- 2:22 am. It’s really time you should be headed home-

You’re jostled from behind, and moments later, you feel cool liquid deep down your back. You turn, and there’s a guy standing there, sandy blonde hair and a terrified look on his face.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, British accent smoothing the words over. “I didn’t mean to-“

“S’okay,” you tell him, though you wrinkle your nose at the feeling of what was likely beer running down your back. “The dress was stained already.”

The man sighs. “It’s not okay- let me make it up to you. Can I buy you a drink?”

You frown. “I think I’m supposed to be leaving. My friend just went to pay.”

“Oh. That’s too bad.” The guy’s eyes light up, then. “Wait, how about I take you on a date?”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest. 2:22, you remember. Angel numbers. You are in the right place at the right time.

“I’m only here for a couple more days,” you say, cautiously.

“I’m free tomorrow if you are,” he suggest. “Well, more like later today, but-“

“Yeah, okay!” You’d at brightly, and hopefully not too eagerly. “I’m free.”

He’s holding out his phone for you to put your number in when Oscar pops up. He looks between the two of you with raised brows. “Everything alright?”

“He’s taking me on a date later today,” you explain, tapping the last number. “Because he spilled beer on my dress. Can you check if I put my number in right? My fingers aren’t working right.”

Oscar laughs, leans forward, and nods. “That’s right.”

You don’t remember getting back to Oscar’s apartment. You barely even remember the guy from the bar until Oscar brings it up that morning, a teasing tone in his voice. Suddenly you’re checking your phone every minute, looking for a text from him. You name him Angel Boy, mentioning the angel numbers you’d seen just before you bumped into him. Oscar, well versed in your obsession with things that are just meant to be, rolls his eyes affectionately.

When the sun is trending towards the horizon and Angel Boy still hasn’t called or even texted you, your mood sours. You plant yourself on the couch, an episode of some stupid reality show playing. You’re not paying attention, only staring at your phone.

By the time 7:00 rolls around, you know it’s a lost cause. You can hear Oscar in the other room, shuffling around, and you feel tears well up in your eyes. There’s got to be someone out there who’s actually meant to be yours, right? One of these times the signs will be right, and it’ll all work out. It’s just… you’re getting discouraged.

Oscar appears in front of you and slips your phone out of your hands. He shoves it into his own pocket. He hands you a jacket, one of his, and you stare up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m taking you out to dinner,” he says, as he reaches to brush the tears from your cheeks. “Just because he’s not going to text you, doesn’t mean you should just sit here all night.”

You could cry even harder at that, at the fact that Oscar cares enough to try and break you out of your moping. You don’t really want to go out, but he has this hopeful look on his face. Both of you don’t need to be sad today. So you stand up, pull the jacket over your arms, and take a deep breath. You walk out of the apartment, your arm linked with his.

The ramen bar you go to is probably better than anywhere the guy would’ve taken you, anyways. If you’re being honest, the company is better, too.

|Age 22|

Oscar flies you out to the Netherlands to see him race. You’d been at the Melbourne Grand Prix, of course, but he’d insisted he’d fly you out for at least one race in his first season- promised it years ago, when Formula One was just a dream on his bucket list. Zandvoort works well- it fits into your schedule, and the summer break starts right afterwards, so he’ll actually have time to spend with you.

In the days leading up to the race, he’s extremely busy and extremely apologetic about it. You reassure him that you understand, that you knew what you were getting into, knew he’d be busy. You wander around the paddock, say hi to Logan- who you know only slightly better than all the other drivers- and keep yourself entertained. You spend time with Oscar when you get the chance- between interviews and practices, stolen moments of privacy in his driver’s room. It’s nice, it really is, but it’s also… weird.

You’ve been thinking a lot, lately, about what your mother once said about soulmates and love. For all the soul searching you’ve done, all the stars you’ve tried to read, you’ve come up empty. You’ve resigned yourself to the fact that maybe there’s just not anyone out there for you. Maybe you’re not meant to have a soulmate.

The thing about letting go of that pressure, though, is that it leaves space. Not a hole, not an emptiness, just… space. Room for other things to sneak in and make their home and grow. Somewhere along the lines- you don’t know when, maybe it’s been there all along- a seed had been planted. Now the roots are digging cracks in your heart, the leaves are shading out every other thought, and there are flowers blooming.

For months, now, your heart has been jumping in your chest every time Oscar texts you. You can’t wipe the grin off your face when he calls. You’ve been following every race, waking up at odd hours to cheer him on, sending him selfies with the tv to prove it to him, to make sure he knows you’re watching. You feel a little crazy, because suddenly he’s all you can think about.

Maybe love is about choices. You start making them, start choosing him. The only question now is if he’ll choose you, too.

The whole weekend is chaos. Oscar crashes in practice, sending himself and your heart spinning. He’s okay, thank god- though his mother texts you frantically, asking if he’s really okay. Then the race itself is even more chaotic, between the rain and the crashes and all the stuff in between. Oscar ends up in the points, though not as high as he’d hoped to be. You cheer for him either way.

You stick around the paddock all the way through his debrief, even when he tries to say you can head back to the hotel without him. Eventually, you leave with him and Lando, his arm around your shoulders the whole way to the car that’s waiting. It’s nice. He’s warm. Lando is making small talk, trying to get to know his teammates best friend, the one Oscar never shuts up about. You feel your face grow hot and hope Oscar doesn’t notice.

In the hotel lobby, Oscar makes a stop at the complimentary snack bar. Lando says something about Kim, his trainer, getting after him, which Oscar ignores. The three of you ride up together in the elevator, with Lando demanding most of your attention as he begs for stories about Oscar as a kid. Oscar’s quiet- you wonder if the weekend is weighing on him more than he’d previously let on.

You say goodnight to Lando and then Oscar scans you into the hotel room. Two beds, a couch, and a balcony that the two of you had eaten breakfast on that morning. You walk over to your bed and sit on the edge, flopping down onto your back.

Something lands on your stomach, softly. You look down, and your throat suddenly feels tight. It’s an orange. It’s a peeled orange. Oscar is standing at the window, pulling the curtains closed. His back is to you.

You blink, picking it up delicately. “You peeled it for me.”

“You hate peeling them,” he says. It’s very matter of fact. The same tone he’d use to say duh or of course.

You stare at his silhouette, the slope of his shoulders, the soft puff of his hair. You sit up, stomach turning. Suddenly, you need to be close to him. You stand up, orange in hand, pulling one of the pieces from it. You hold it lightly between your fingertips. Love is an action.

You hold it out to him. He takes it, smiles down at you.

“I love you, you know that?” You say, before you lose the courage.

“Yeah, I love you too,” he says, giving you a goofy look.

“No, like-“ you pause. Maybe you shouldn’t do this. Maybe you should just-

But it’s too late, because a wave of understanding washes over his face. His eyes go wide, lips parting. His hand pauses halfway to his mouth, the orange slice still in his fingers.

“Oh,” he says, voice cracking. His face splits into a grin. “Jeez, took you long enough to catch up, didn’t it?”

When he drops the orange slice on the floor so he can grab your face and kiss you, you’re somehow still so startled that you also drop the rest of the orange. That’s okay, though. He’ll peel another one for you without you even having to ask. Stars light up behind your eyes at the feeling of his lips on yours, and you realize then that maybe soulmates are just the people who choose to stick around.

…..

Deep in your desk in your childhood home, there’s a piece of paper. It’s been unfolded and refolded a million times. At the top, the title says, 15 Signs He’s Your Soulmate in messy, primary school handwriting. You pull it from your drawer and uncap the gel pen that sits in the cup on the desk.

At the bottom of the list, beneath your faded magic marker scrawl, you add:

#16: He peels your oranges.

#16: childhood best friend??

#16: YOU JUST KNOW

little bit of a different format for this one. as always, feel free to check out my other fics and tell me what you think!

#oscar piastri oneshot #oscar piastri x you #formula 1 fanfic #f1 oneshot #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #formula one fluff #formula 1 fluff #f1 fluff #soulmates #f1 soulmate fic #oscar piastri x reader #Spotify #honeywrites #Oscar piastri

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lucydixon · 1 month ago

Text

In your dreams

Erik Campbell Masterlist 𐴱 Main Masterlist 𐴱 Taglist 𐴱 Reading List 𐴱 Pinned Post 𐴱 Moodboard side-Blog A/N: There will eventually be a part 2 for this one, I'll link it once it's up

Summary: You and Eric are constantly competing for bookings at the shop. There's always been a playful, flirty back-and-forth in between the cut-throat streaks of competition, but the air seems to shift when you get a little bold.

The bell above the door chimed, and your head snapped up at the same time as Erik’s. It was a woman who seemed only a little younger than the two of you, and she looked nervous and a bit pale.

“Hey, I want my lip pierced. Um- can anyone take a walk-in?” He was quick to nod and waved her over to his station, turning to give you a smug smirk for having beaten you to it.

Only you didn’t look annoyed like you usually did.

You looked perfectly calm and maybe even a little bit amused.

Erik narrowed his eyes in suspicion and stood to grab the supplies he’d need while the woman fidgeted in the chair.

“What's with you?” He asked lowly, pausing in front of your desk, “Your books are wide open all day, and you’re not gonna fight me on this?”

“I’ve just got a feeling, is all.” You said, not looking up from your tablet, busy drawing out a design for an upcoming client.

“A feeling?” He raised a brow

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “Something good is coming, I just know it.”

“It’s a Tuesday.” He reminded you.

“Just go do your fucking piercing.” you waved him off dissmissively “Get out of my face, Campbell. Your bad vibes are fucking with my zen.”

Erik huffed and went to gather what he needed before going back to his client.

You let him take three walk-ins that day.

Each time, he looked at you like you were crazy.

You had yet to make a single dollar. If you kept this up, you’d be losing money, and he just didn’t understand why.

He had a feeling that it had to do with you thinking that the universe was trying to tell you something. You were always going on about vibes and manifestation and he thought the whole thing was a crock of shit, which he didn’t hesitate to tell you every time you brought it up.

Two hours before the shop closed, a very large, very muscular man walked in through the door, and you shot to your feet before Erik could even look up.

“What can I do for ya, handsome?”

“I can think of a thing or two,” The man looked you up and down and licked his lips.

“Why don’t we start with why you’re here?” You shot back, eyes full of mirth.

“Looking to get a chest piece.” He smirked, “Think you could handle that, sugar?”

“Looks like I’d have a nice big canvas,” You winked, playing into it after seeing the way Erik stiffened out of the corner of your eye. “I’m sure I could manage, come on in.”

Erik couldn’t deny the spark of annoyance he felt anytime he heard you flirting with customers, or anyone really. He was unwilling to admit to himself that it was jealousy deep in his chest.

For as long as the two of you had worked together, you’d had this constantly changing back and forth. Playful, then competitive and cutthroat, then back to flirting. He wouldn’t necessarily call you friends, but you weren’t just coworkers.

Right?

Sometimes, Erik found it hard to tell if there actually was something there or if you were being equally as flirtatious as you were with everyone else. He’d wonder sometimes if it was just your personality and that he was reading too far into the interactions you had that left him thinking about you for the rest of the night.

He knew that he was going to have to stay late while you finished this juiced-up creep’s tattoo, and sighed to himself while watching from across the shop as you got set up.

He wasn’t about to leave you in there by yourself with him.

Not after seeing the way he’d been leering at you the whole time.

So, Erik settled in for what he was sure would be a few hours of gritting his teeth and listening to you flirt with your canvas while he tried to sketch out designs for the week ahead.

He kept glancing over while you laughed at whatever the beefcake was saying to you.

It was your fake laugh.

He knew it well.

Usually, you’d make a disgusted face in his direction when the customer wasn’t looking.

But not today.

For some reason, you didn’t glance in his direction even once.

Weird.

But then, your canvas started getting touchy with you.

Rough, stubby fingers playing with your hair until you pulled away and offered a tight-lipped smile, a hand brushing over your shoulder while you sat there, hunched over his chest. He seemed far too comfortable touching you, and it had Erik white-knuckling the desk and gritting his teeth.

Finally, you looked over at him.

He mouthed a quick ‘what the fuck?’ while gesturing angrily to the man, silently offering to throw him out.

You were cool, calm, and collected, same as you always were when this kind of thing happened, and you shook your head tightly.

Erik watched the man jerk in his seat, and you muttered something about the shading being the worst part. He knew that you were deliberately being heavy-handed and relaxed a little.

The message was clear. You could take care of yourself.

Still, he hung around waiting for you to finish.

You’d stopped laughing, and he’d stopped joking. The slab of meat on your table was doing more wincing than he was breathing until you finished up and sat back in your seat, admiring your work.

You wrapped him up and took his money without any pleasantries on either side, and he watched, amused, as the man rushed out of the shop with pink cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

“It’s always the big ones that end up crying.” You shook your head with a soft smile as you counted out your money. “Feeling was right though, that four hundred in my pocket.”

“Four hundred?” Erik squinted at you suspiciously. “No way. That was three hours, what about the chair for the day?”

“Touchy assholes get the creep tax.” You shrugged, smirking mischievously.

You tossed some bills in the register for rent and left a note for the owner.

“Didn’t have to stick around.”

“What?” He scoffed, gathering his belongings, looking almost offended. “You think I was gonna leave you in here alone with that guy?”

“Most people would’ve.” You shrugged.

“Yeah, well, most people are assholes.” He muttered.

“You’re still an asshole.” You smiled sweetly, clearly teasing, “Careful, Campbell, or I might start thinking you’re sweet on me.”

“In your dreams.” He rolled his eyes.

“Oh, you’re in ‘em.” You winked while brushing past him.

You loved watching him squirm when you said stuff like that. He always got a little flustered.

“Yeah?” He chortled, “What am I doing in your dreams?”

“Oh, you know.” You shrugged coyly, slinging your purse over your shoulder on your way to the door. “Wonderful things with your tongue, mostly.”

He made a choking noise, but you were already out the door.

Dividers made by @saradika-graphics MDNI Banner Made by @cafekitsune GIF Made By @ververik

#Erik Campbell #Final destination Bloodlines #Final Destination 6 #FD Bloodlines #Erik Campbell Headcanons #Erik Campbell x reader #richard harmon #Erik Campbell smut #Request

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bachshot · 2 months ago

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Danger Zone

request: so happy to hear ava was your fav thunderbolt she was mine too!! Would you be willing to write a oneshot about fem reader who also heard about Valentina’s plan and came to save Ava, meeting John and Yelena a little before Alexei.

Ava Starr x Fem!Reader no warnings apply

thunderbolts spoilers ahead... kinda want to do a part two later on in the movie with some more fluffy y/n and ava moments + interaction with the other thunderbolts, lmk what you think!!

Y/N never trusted Valentina, what was happening right now was only more timber for the fire in the list of reasons why she really needed to quit her job. For the past few months she had been working as her personal security guard, something Ava wasn't exactly overjoyed to learn but the pay was cushy and so far Valentina didn't seem to suspect their relationship. Or if she did she hadn't said anything, whether that was better or worse they were unsure.

That being said the jobs Y/N was given were nowhere near the level of Ava's, instead being stuck accompanying Valentina to events and looking overall intimidating, so when it came time for Valentina to clean her hands of evidence it was unsurprising that Y/N didn't make the list.

But as she raced up this stupid hill to the facility atop of it she had one thought on her mind, 'i really need to quit this job', if Valentina’s awful attitude wasn't enough then trying to kill her girlfriend certainly was. Mel had spilled the secret plan to Y/N, a guilt filled moment of clarity where the words came out hard and fast unaware of Y/N's connection to Ava, but the subsequent words fell on deaf ears as the blood rushed to Y/N's head as all she could think about was Ava. It had been easy to convince Mel to help her, she always seemed to be teetering on the fence of supporting Valentina so all she seemed to need was a push, the girl managing to give Y/N top level access to scan into the building Ava was sent to but other than that it was all in Y/N's hands, any more meddling from Mel would quickly be spotted and stopped by Valentina. As much as she thought of Valentina and her assistant as one in the same, here Y/N had to reconsider her biases... But maybe not right at this second. The facility quickly comes into view as Y/N reaches the top of the hill, opening the door with the building's biometric system and groaning quietly to herself as it opens only to reveal more doors. She couldn’t help but feel she didn’t have time for this, knowing the incinerator Ava had been led into would activate any moment.

Luckily the feeling was short lived as Ava phased through one of the doors with a panicked look on her face, jaw dropping once she spotted Y/N their speech overlapping in a frantic exclamation of “you’re here!” and “what are you doing here?!”

Y/N shakes her head grabbing Ava’s arms, giving her a slight shake, “Valentina set you up! I came here to get you,” she explains, eyes scanning over Ava to check her over for any injuries, easily distracted and unable to hold back rambling a little despite the urgency of the current situation, “God, you look so good in that new suit by the way, but we need to get out of here, i dont know when the others are getting here but—“

Ava cuts her off with a chuckle, endeared by Y/N’s ability to give out a compliment alongside attempting to save her life (even if she’s definitely seen Ava’s new suit before and has told her that every time she’s seen her in it),

“they’re already here,” Ava informs her, glancing back to the door she just phased through, “and we just figured out Valentina’s plan…” she adds with some reluctance not wanting to diminish Y/N’s efforts. It’s then that Ava’s face drops from the tender smile she always had plastered on in Y/N’s presence, replaced by an expression of realisation as she cursed under her breath suddenly breaking from Y/N’s hold to turn to the lock pad next to the door. Y/N raises a brow as Ava presses the buttons, letting out a frustrated growl as she’s met with a harsh ‘access denied’, given Ava’s history Y/N felt kind of proud that she had managed to work with the others she was set up against. Ava wasn’t quick to trust with her past, and while Y/N understood the trust was probably fleeting and completely situational, something about seeing her working with others made her chest swell regardless. She made a note to tell her as such later.

“Let me try,” Y/N offers, arm brushing against Ava’s as she moves to stand next to her, assuming Ava’s access was removed the moment she had entered to stop her from being able to escape, but Y/N’s should still be in full effect thanks to Mel. The door opens, revealing the others inside who look almost surprised to see they had actually been freed, and Ava’s arm nudges Y/N’s in a silent form of appreciation however the moment is fleeting as flames begin to descend in the opened up room causing an explosion that continued on into the room they currently stood in.

By all means Ava could temporarily phase to avoid the blow but instead Y/N feels Ava’s hands on her chest as she pushes her to the ground bodies pressed together to stay low as the explosion blew over them, Ava's body blocking most of the blow from Y/N in a protective hold. It didn’t take long for it to end, Ava pushing herself up still straddling Y/N and looking down at her with a concerned look as she made sure she was okay… Y/N couldn’t help but think she wouldn’t mind this position in another setting, and maybe she subconsciously leaned forward at first seeing Ava’s face hovering above hers but could you really blame her? Aware however that it was not the time for that she didn’t allow her mind to wander further, stopping herself before she and Ava actually kissed but not before Ava had noticed.

“…Hey,” Y/N breathes out, a ringing in her ears and a dull aching in her head as she definitely hit it on the floor going down (and may or may not be a little concussed), causing Ava to shake her head in amusement as she pulls herself up from the ground and offers Y/N a hand.

“Hey yourself,” she replies smoothly, a teasing tone on her tongue egged on by Y/N’s antics, it looks like she’s about to say something else as her mouth opens again only to be interrupted by a gruffer voice to the right of the two. Y/N doesn’t really catch what’s being said, the ringing from the loud explosion still persisting in her ears but she can tell it’s something along the lines of ‘who the fuck are you’ causing both her and Ava to quickly whip their heads round looking towards a man in some kind of captain america-esque costume, Ava's stance hardening as she side stepped in front of Y/N to block her from the mans view. It was then Y/N remembered her and Ava weren’t alone, noticing a shorter blonde woman and another man with darker hair on the other side of the room slowly getting up, clearly just recovering from being blown away when the explosion had gone off. With such an interesting combination of people she would definitely be asking Ava for more details later, and knew absolutely no insults towards the other mercenaries would be spared, but for now as she felt Ava's hand protectively reach for hers and give it a thankful squeeze she was glad she had come here— even if it seemed Ava had already been capable of saving herself.

#ava starr x reader #ava starr #ghost marvel #ghost x reader #thunderbolts*#thunderbolts x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu #fem!reader #fem reader #fxf #fanfic #fanfiction #request #marvel fanfic #yelena belova #john walker #bob reynolds

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74thcookie · 3 months ago

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PureMilk/ShadowVanilla AU List.

I still have no free time from school so once I do I’ll put a link or just make separate blogs for each AUs I made (mostly by accident). This post is just a reminder to not only others but also myself on what I made so far.

I was inspired to constantly post my ideas after many months ago I watch a video of GinjaninjaOwO/June where she mentions that she doesn’t want to die with her ideas. I also don’t want to die with my ideas and I’m a small guy. I just want my weird ideas to be seen even if it’s hated or liked.

Note: In all this AUs I tried my best to mix both the in game PVSM and the fandom one (the ones that are commonly used) so it would be a bit fun but also grounded. I want to also say I have played crk since 2022, I stop at the start of golden cheese arc and came back to shadow milk. So I have a lot of catching up, this is the first time I interacted with the fandom. I need to mention that since I don’t want others to tell me again that I ruin these characters.

CondensedMilkAU/EvaporatedExtractAU

An AU where it focuses mostly on the Sage of Truth and how he balance his life between his usual work and his new life of being a Mother of two demon children while trying to live a normal cookie.

It takes place many many years after his first meeting with the Truthless Recluse.

It was made by accident after the concept of a burnt out Sage was made and it was later developed into its own thing.

The CondensedMilkAU is the original name of the AU based on the concept/doodle comics that uses the characters of the Burntout Sage/Mama Berry with his children the Demon/Devil Siblings.

The first comics and other comics that are doodle drawn under the CondensedMilkAU tag are the concept ideas where we explore possible stories for these characters. Think of it like those early cartoon logic where continuity ain’t really taken seriously but some mentioned events pop out from time to time or info may not make sense as it’s being made.

The EvaporatedExtract is more of a story where I try to make an actual storyline /Game concept based on whats mentioned in the CondensedMilkAU.

It has a lot changed from the CondensedMilkAU but the main concept of the Sage getting burnt out and living a double life to feel alive as Mama Berry remain.

The only change I know that will remain that differentiate it from the CondensedMilkAU:

The Siblings (BlackSapphiCookie and CandyAppleCookie) are adults now but still under the guardianship of the Sage.

Truthless Recluse being a focus of the tutorial guide for the Sage. In this story, TR has done the double life premise before Sage.

The story may have the original Fluff of the CondensedMilkAU but it will explore the dark and degenerate part that can be possible. For example being CandyAppleCookie’s obsession, in the CondensedMilkAU it’s more of an admiration for the Sage but in the EvaporatedExtractAU her admiration is obsession and if not in checked, her actions towards the Sage/Mama Berry would be dangerous and degenerate. Making even the siblings a threat to the Sage.

The Sage was hinted to have done evil stuff before as he weaponizing the truth, it’s just now we get to see him trying to repent for his sins. (I’m not sure if the evil was done by the Sage unintentionally or intentionally).

I had a dream before about a ShadowVanilla AU where it involves making consequence decision matters. We call it the Umbrella..something dream since it has PV breaking and entering another school to get WhiteLilys Umbrella back at night. It has him and Shadow milk exploring the curse school at night and the events made them open to each (I took the concept of it being a game with consequences and apply it to the EvaporatedExtractAU)

There’s a lot that is in this AU but that’s the Summary since not all is set in stone.

This AU was made during late March 2025 or early April 2025. After the release of the SoT and TR skins.

DosedofNightShadeAU/ Sanrio ShadowVanilla/OldManFount/3PM_AU

This concept was originally made an as excuse to draw Pure Vanilla and Shadow Milk in the modern AU still as cookies but the settings are like the April fools. It is an excuse as well to draw them in cute dresses and outfits.

I accidentally made a fanfic of these two loving Kuromi(PV) and MyMelody(SM) after my brain try to debate itself as to why they’d wear the theme Sanrio clothes.

It was based on the concept of “opposites attract” and how similar Kuromi and My Melody are to PVSM in where Kuromi does like to be My Melodys friend but is pissed then her jester clothing, her gang, her parallels to My Melody. Then for My Melody it’s her caring nature and openness to others but a bit aloof. Making PV attracted to Kuromi themes and SM to My Melody is like making them unconsciously into each other or the personality and style that reminded them of the other cookie.

Days after I made the Fanfic I did a doodle of what if The Fount of Knowledge, The Sage of Truth and Shadow Milk are siblings in a modern “human” AU. The headcanons given by the people that comment that initial post inspire me to make a PV version.

Fount was only made after the poll of making him look more motherly type than cutesy

It was supposed to be just two PVs since I always see Classic PV and Awaken PV as one being and TR being his own thing but others are sad that the Fount has no PV of his own. One suggested the Fortune Teller and all hell breaks loose in my green pea sized brain.

The story as of right now compare to the previous AU since it’s made in Mid/Late April of 2025 as a brainrot.

The only concept is ShadowVanilla(Sanrio)in where they are the most healthiest and the kinkest, FountFortune are the middle ground, in where they are the horrors but also hurt comfort. Then SageRecluse, the weirdest and creepiest one, probably dead dove do not eat and any content with those two STAYS IN THE PRIVATE ACCOUNTS.

One concept though I want to keep is that all three SMilks are not innocent. Shamil committed bullying and harassment before, Sage made students go insane due to academics and his ego, Fount committed war crimes that even the police are afraid of him.

I saw floatinglittlestars tag for the AU being 3smpvau which is easy to remember which I love but I know there’s a lot of AUs from other artist that has 3 SM and PV in it.. so gonna call it 3PM_AU like 3:00 pm in the morning where they do something funky. (Especially Fount and Fortune). Though I really like the 3smpvau a lot. It’s very easy to remember

Those two are the ones I can say are AUs. There’s a Fable one but that’s not completely develop since I’ll only finish one of that once the poll is done and my hell is over.

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tiredmamaissy · 1 year ago

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Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan: Special Episode V

Something is Brewing

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's insanely talented creator @zestys-stuff. Thank you so much for allowing me to play around with your characters!

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (25) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (20)

Warnings: explicit pregnancy smut, pregnancy fluff, pregnancy angst [for the plot], pregnancy [this chapter is entirely about pregnancy if you haven't caught my drift, just giving you guys a proper warning], age gap, mood swings, cravings, nausea, vomiting, reader is very clumsy, intimate/invasive medical treatment, rut cycle, sexual tension, pregnant sex, p in v, titty fucking, cum eating (m and f), oral sex (m and f), masturbation, exhibitionism (kinda, not really), lactation kink

Word Count: 17.5k (this takes the cake, i apologize)

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Hey guys! Thank you all for being so patient with me as usual. I had planned to post this chapter earlier, but with the help of @zestys-stuff, we made a last minute change to the chapter. This will definitely cause some changes in the next chapter, so I’m going to work on that right away. I won’t lie, I’m really nervous to publish this one. It's been a while and I’ve ventured into some new territory where I’ve introduced a couple of new themes and -drumroll- a new character. There are parts of this chapter that can possibly cause discomfort (technically, all of this could), so I urge you guys to proceed with caution and click off if you do feel uncomfortable in any way. Aside from that, it’s good to be back (again, lol) and I hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: A timeline of your pregnancy with Ralak’s child, shown through a series of flashbacks of your most prominent milestones—some of which foreshadow something bigger to come…

<- Previous -> Next

Pregnancy is tough.

A beautiful blessing, but tough nonetheless. With its own set of hardships, uniquely tailored to your own being. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. A sore back, chest, ankles…the list is seemingly endless. The shift in moods, the fatigue. Adjusting to an entire new being growing inside you—one that sucks the nutrients straight from your bones and blood—has your body overcompensating.

At first it was a dream.

No life-changing symptoms. It was smooth sailing for the first few weeks. Life went on as usual. If anything, others were more reactive to your pregnancy than you were. Your skimwing became aggressive towards Ralak, snapping at him and whipping her tail, treating him as a threat rather than a companion. He was more than understanding, as it’s common for the protective instinct to kick in when the tsurak senses their rider is with child.

More importantly, it was an urge that Ralak shared with the beast.

—

You watch as your tendrils intertwine with your skimwing, and how they come together with a rough tug. You let out a rugged breath and the beast beneath you starts to writhe. Ralak instinctively grasps at the harness to steady you and—

Slash.

Your trsuak whips her spiked tail at your mate, who blocks it with his strake.

“Shit.” You gasp, tugging at the leather strap and patting her neck to subdue her. “I thought I was in control. Are you alright?”

Ralak nods, his hair now soaked and plastered to his chest. He simply chuckles, respectfully and cautiously approaching the beast with an open hand. Despite this, your tsurak continues to thrash, repeatedly snapping her snout open and shut. Ralak clicks melodically a few times, and her pupils blow and constrict as she calms down. He strokes her snout with one hand, and lays his other on your thigh, gripping it lightly.

“She senses that you are with child.”

“She does?”

“Yes. That is why she protects you. I understand the feeling.” His accent is thick on his tongue.

——

Then the nausea came. It was… unbearable. Insufferable. It was almost frightful, actually. Not being able to stomach anything really brought down a sense of dread upon your shoulders. Most days, you found yourself worried about the budding life inside you more than yourself.

Was he getting enough? Would he develop properly if you went another day without eating?

Ralak was more worried about you, of course. Going to great lengths to find something you could stomach. Spoon feeding you as you laid down all day from the gut churning nausea. Washing the sick out of your hair when you missed the bucket at your bedside. Detangling and braiding it for you to keep it clean and out of your face. Releasing his pheromones—your only relief—just to put you to sleep at night.

—

t.w. nausea, vomiting.

In the crisp night, a wave of nausea washes over you, waking you from your sleep. Typically, this is the only time you have a break from the nausea—your slumber. That, and the first ten minutes after throwing up.

You quickly hurl over, grabbing and heaving into your bedside bucket, something that's rightfully earned its spot at your side. Ralak jolts awake, sitting up behind you to gather your hair into his fist, rubbing your back as you retch.

“Alrigght.” He hums lengthily. “Get it up.”

Finally, you stop. You gasp and pant for air, sitting up only to collapse back into him. “I h-hate this–haah.”

“I do, too.” He grits, reaching over you for the rag at your bedside, and wiping your mouth.

He hates seeing you so sick. He’s tried it all, and though he’s found a few foods that you can stomach, nothing seems stops the nausea. Well, that’s not entirely true.

Ralak relaxes his body, focusing on opening his scent glands to release his his pheromones. They slowly become stronger, calming you down and dulling the waves of nausea. He pulls you close to his warm body, reaching behind him for his kuru.

“Tsaheylu.” He whispers yearningly, making the bond slowly. He sets a steady breathing pattern, slipping his hand over your tiny bump to caress it. The sickening feeling eases up enough for you to drift back to sleep, Ralak along with you.

——

Thankfully, Eywa lifted you of your säspxin [sickness] when you were about to come upon your third month of pregnancy. Cravings increased ten-fold almost instantly. On the occasion where you couldn’t keep it down—when the desperation was too much—you’d volunteer Ralak to eat it for you so that you could satisfy the craving vicariously through him.

—

“Eywa, that’s so good. One more bite.”

“Tanhí. Enough now.” He grumbles, feeling overly stuffed and almost queasy.

You glance down at the purple hue of your connected kurus.

“Please...” Your eyes burn as they threaten to well with tears, and your bottom lip quivers, “…last one, promise.”

Ralak sighs, shoveling in another bite of boiled squid, chewing it slowly so you can savor the taste. You keep your eyes closed as he eats, tongue swirling in your mouth to swish your pooling saliva in your cheeks. And when he swallows, you swallow too, gulping down your spit.

“Thank you.” You say shyly as you open your eyes, feeling bad for making him overeat now that you can really feel his fullness.

It is my pleasure. Never feel bad. His accented voice tickles your brain. A smile spreads across your face, just as one does on his.

——

And when you could keep it down, they were delightful when satiated. Keyword being satiated. It posed an issue when they were what Ralak called, ‘forest food’, or on a more rare occasion—‘sky people food’. Those were the insatiable ones. The ones he couldn’t just whip up for you. The times he'd come to you with his ears laid flat to his skull, admitting his defeat. Those were the moments where you felt something stronger than just disappointment.

It left you gutted.

—

You can’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. They’re hot and leave a sticky film on your skin, clumping your eyelashes together. It’s stupid. They’re stupid. Stupid tears, from a stupid cause. All because you want your grandmother’s stupid soup. Another thing the blessing of pregnancy has bestowed on you—big, intense feelings.

As you soak in your bath, Ralak cooks dinner and you just know that whatever is in the pot is something that will make your stomach churn. You bury your face in the palms of your hands, trying to keep your snotty sobs to a minimum. It’s ridiculous, sobbing over something like this. It’s shameful, even. How can you be so ungrateful when this man goes to such lengths to care for you?

“Tanhì!” You hear his rough voice echo from the pod.

You quickly wipe your face clean, and scramble for your loincloth and top, slipping them back onto your body. Finally, you fix your hair and force a smile to your face. As you get up to the marui, you’re met with the sight of Ralak stirring the soup pot over the firepit. Then the smell hits you. Typically the first thing to set off your nausea to begin with. It smells like—

Grandmother’s soup.

You stare at your mate wide eyed, taking a deep breath to savour it in your lungs. Outside of Ralak’s scent, nothing has smelled this good in months. And you swear you can already taste it on your tongue, the savoury flavour with the sweet aftertaste.

“I asked your mother. Hope that is okay.” Ralak speaks casually as he serves you a bowl.

As you let out a harsh breath, your eyes burn as the tears come back with a vengeance. You sniffle once, twice—thrice, whimpering quietly as they roll down your cheeks. Ralak looks up at you, concern and honestly a smidge of confusion fixed to his face. Putting the bowl down, he stands and comes over to you, enveloping you in his arms.

“I do not like to see you cry.” He hums, kissing the crown of your head. “Is it the smell? I will make you something different.”

“N-No, no. It’s… it smells great. I’m sorry. I—I” You sputter, burying your face into his chest.

“Then what is it, tìyawn [love]? What do you need?” Ralak cups your face and gently tilts your head upwards so he can look you in the eyes. “Tell me and it is yours.”

“Thank you.” You croak, feeling your bottom lip curl over and kiss your chin. Now his facial expression is just pure confusion. He tuts in a comforting manner, pulling you back in close to his chest as he waits for you to settle, rocking side to side.

“Alright, my little one. Shh–shh.”

——

Soon after, that soup pot made quite an appearance. It became your favourite dish, your favourite craving. Ralak made it just like grandmother, for the most part. There were a few omaticayan herbs missing, but outside of that it tasted like…home. At that point, you felt like you had this pregnancy thing down pat and could return to a semi-normal life.

Everything was relatively the same, except a few obvious things—your growing bump and lack of heats. That was also a blessing, not having to go through a torturous heat every month. Though, you couldn’t say that for Ralak.

As you neared the end of your third month of pregnancy, his pheromones grew stronger, wafting by you at random times of the day. At first you thought he was just doing it for you. Or, perhaps it was your heightened sense of smell.

But the day came when his scent was so potent, it was as if it had stained your lips. There wasn’t a moment where you couldn’t smell the scent of your mate under your nose. That was the night you realised it was out of his control. That it was his rut coming. That was the night you confronted him at the bonfire.

The night he looked at you like you were something to eat.

—

Right…there.

You catch the flicker of his eyes just before he lowers his head, shifting to that deep shade of blue. He keeps stealing a glance or two. Maybe even three, or more. It’s hard to keep count when he’s looking at you like this.

is piercing eyes, sultry and alluring, tempting you to crawl through these roaring flames just to get to him quicker. His demeanour. His stance and posture. His domineering leer. Whatever he—or his body—is doing, is working.

He sits on the boulder, elbow perched on one thick thigh and a hand propped on the other. His hair covers his chestpiece, curled ends barely brushing against his defined ribcage. His bioluminescent freckles dance under the moonlight, his turquoise skin almost golden from the cast of the fire. It’s all so intimidating. He’s exuding dominance, practically looming over you despite him being seated. But there’s something about his aura, something darker.

“I can feel it, you know.” You speak casually, uncrossing your legs.

Ralak’s eyes snap up, boring into yours. He cocks a brow, keeping his eyes locked on you as you stand and walk towards him.

“Your rut. It’s close, isn’t it?”

This would be your first, real rut with him. Without the influence of your own heat. Ralak huffs a sigh, his eyes falling to the small bump that’s in his direct line of sight. Ralak watches as it seemingly grows bigger the closer you get.

“You are showing.” His hands gently rest on your lower abdomen. Holding his shoulders, you slowly straddle him.

“Answer me.” You whisper as you cup his face, tilting it upwards to make him look at you. “I want to be with you… and before you say it—” Ralak grits his teeth as he turns his head away, out of your hands.

“No.”

“Ralak. I am your mate.” You retaliate through tight lips. You knew this would pose an issue.

“Y/n.” He growls, turning his head to look you in the eyes. “You know my rut. Must I remind you that you are with child? It is final.”

“I do know, and that’s why I won’t let you go through that alone, ever again.” Though your voice is stern, he can hear the tenderness in it. That this comes from a place of concern and love.

“I will not be in control.” Ralak admits as he shakes his head firmly, flicking his gaze back down to your belly.

“Look…I made a plan.” You basically confess that you’ve been conjuring up ideas on how to endure this together all day. Although his eyes and hands remain fixed on your tummy, Ralaks ears perk up. He’s listening.

“How do you feel about…being tied up?”

Now you’ve got his attention, eyes snapping up to meet yours. The idea of being tied up isn’t entirely foreign to him. It’s something that his people use as a punishment for those who do wrong. He’s not opposed to it. Having a rut so intense is probably something to be punished for, anyways.

“Hands behind your back…bound to the marui stilt. I will be the one in control. I will take care of you.”

You take his hands from your stomach and tuck them behind his back, your face now millimeters from his. Ralak fights the urge to kiss you. To free his hands from his back to grab your hips and shove your further down onto his growing bulge.

“...feed you…water you…bathe you.” Your voice falters as you swallow your spit. “...fuck you.”

“...that so?” He whispers against your lips, heart thudding wildly behind his ribcage.

You look in his eyes, and see that they tremble with constraint. He can’t hide it, the look on his face gives it away. He’s really struggling to think straight. To keep his answer as a firm no. And it doesn’t help that he’s on the cusp of his rut. He yearns to accept. Every fibre of his being wants this–wants you. You see it in his eyes, as they flicker like the flame behind you.

He just needs a little push.

“We’ll take it slow…gently.” You roll your hips into him and feel his cock straining against his tewng. You lean in close, lips brushing against his as you speak into his mouth. “And, if anything happens… we’ll stop. No knotting.”

His ears twitch. He’s considering it. Really, actually considering this. But how could he? How could he expect this of you in your state? He squeezes his eyes shut, frustrated and conflicted. And aroused. So fucking aroused that when he feels your lips drag against his cheek, your tongue tasting the lobe of his ear…your breathy whisper, “Pänutìng [Promise].”, he lets out a heated, shaky breath of defeat. Of surrender.

That seals the deal.

—

Not now. Not yet. Ralak thinks to himself, fighting his urges.

The urge to mate—to pin you down and drive himself inside you. He must remain in control. For you. For your unborn. He sits on the floor, slumped against the stilt of the marui, bowed shoulders and a heavy, hung head. His skin, flushed, and eyes swollen—glowing a vibrant mauve. His hair haphazardly sticks to his sweltering skin as his hands lethargically twiddle with the braided twine behind his back.

Groggy, you strain to open your eyes and quickly scan your surroundings. Ralaks pheromones cloud the room, engulfing you with their overpowering scent. As you sit up, the bed creaks and Ralak lifts his head, allowing it to flump limply back into the stilt. Extra lidded eyes and tensed brows, he breathes through his mouth. He wills himself to speak, but he’s heavy and sluggish as if he were three bottles deep.

“Ralak.” Your voice is wary and full of concern. Your eyes continue to trail down his body, landing on the undeniable, taut bulge in his loincloth. His cock strains against the fabric, precum completely soaking it through. “How long have you been like this?”

“Few hours.” He croaks out a dry throat.

“And you didn’t wake me?” You hastily make your way behind him, slipping to your knees to take the twine from him.

Fuck. There it is. Your scent...driving him over the edge. Wafting past his nose and making him woozy in the head.

“Tie me.” He demands. For a moment, you’re frozen in place by his tone, unable to move your hands and fingers. “Quickly.”

The edginess in his voice startles you, causing you to fumble with the twine. You take a breath and begin tying the knot as he taught you, weaving the twine with itself, tugging at the ends to close it.

“Tighter.” He snaps at you, making your ears lay flat. You pull the ends even tauter, witnessing the twine pinch the thin skin on his wrists.

“Shit—sorry. Didthat hurt?” You go to loosen the knot, but he pulls at the restraints, making it even tighter.

“Leave it.” He grumbles, tugging yet again, ensuring it’s unyielding.

Because the closer you get, the harder he finds it to resist. He needs to know that he can’t get out—that he can’t hurt you—before he loses it completely. And with that delicious scent seeping from your neck, he feels himself slipping under.

“Are you sure? I can tie you after you drink some water and have a—”

“No...haah—now.” He growls, dropping his head causing the rest of his hair to flow forward and cover his face. “…need you now.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, heating them up and flushing them over. You can even feel your heart pumping it harder–faster. It’s hot in here, but even hotter now that you feel yourself heating up too. It’s his rut, influencing you like some sort of drug. You can barely control your breathing, much less think straight. But you told him that you’d be the one in control, the one to care for him.

“Mawey, ma’ muntxatan [Calm, my husband].” You whisper close to his ear, giving the knot a final tug. “What kind of mate would I be if I did not care for you first? Hm?”

You shuffle to your feet, and walk away, newly widened hips swaying side to side with temptation. He’s taking in the show through the cracks of space between his clumped together strands of hair, unable to look away no matter how hard he tries. Knowing this, you bend over, lifting your tail to expose your clothed mound to him. You swear you can hear a hiss seep from his lips, and that brings a smile to yours.

Teasing him is one of your favourite things to do.

You scoop up some water into the cup, and bring it over to him. Using two fingers to his chin, you tilt his head back, revealing the famine in his inebriated eyes. They’re glossy with need and desperation, begging you to take his ache away.

“Alright, alright.” You coo softly, sinking back to your knees. “I’m going to make it go away. Now, drink for me.” You bring the cup to his lips, tilting it carefully as he gulps it down thirstily. A few drops dribble down his chin and onto his already glistening chest, rolling down his unflexed stomach.

Tossing the empty cup to the side, you bend forward and lick the beads of water up his stomach, to his throat, to his lips. His arms jerk reflexively, wanting to cup your face as your lips lock with his.

Throwing a leg over his lap, you straddle him, pressing against the bulge in his sticky tewng. You cup his face instead, deepening the kiss to have a taste of the potent desperation on his tongue.

When you pull away, your noses brush against one another and you feel woozy in the head. His rut is beginning to affect you now. Which isn’t all a bad thing if you want to be able to keep up with him for the next couple days.

Your hand smoothes over his jawbone to the nape of his neck, where you gently grip the base of his kuru. His ears immediately lay flat to his head, reddening at just the tips. Running your hand along its length, you bring the end of his kuru in front of him.

“Going to make the bond.” You warn him breathily, bringing forth your queue as well.

At this point, Ralak is huffing for air and sweating profusely. It looks as if he’s nearing his peak already. This only reaffirms that you’re making the right decision by making tsaheylu—you need the direct influence of his tìsom [heat].

When the tendrils intertwine, you come together with a sharp tug and gasp. Instantaneously, you sink into a hazy state, heating up from within. Your breath syncs with his, and suddenly you’re panting too.

“Ralak.” You moan softly, grinding into him for a bit of friction.

You can’t stop your hips from snapping, and your loincloth is almost completely soaked. He throws his head back into the wooden stilt, looking at you through lidded eyes as he lets loose subtle groans. He looks more than hungry. He looks starved.

With trembling hands, you search for the knot of his loincloth at the base of his tail. After a bit of scuffling, you untether it and shimmy his tewng down his hips and off of him. Up springs his aching cock, veiny and swollen. It’s so obviously neglected, glossy and sticky with his slick, so uncomfortably hard that it’s already pulsing as it stands firmly pressed against your clothed cunt.

“Fuck. It’s… even bigger.” You’re taken aback, unsure of how exactly you managed to take this inside you last time he was in rut. Then you notice the red tinge of colour on his cockhead, especially where his ridges stand erect. “D-Does that hurt, karyu?” Bump in the way, you shift your hips back to reveal what exactly you’re talking about. “Need your numeyu to take away the pain?”

The giant remains silent, but his cock jumps in response, oozing out another large bead of precum. Using your pointer finger, you trace the length of his cock, swollen balls to his pointed tip, collecting that fresh bead of slick on the pad of your digit. He watches intently as you pop your finger into your mouth and suckle, swallowing his semi-sweet essence. His brows knit tightly together.

You know this is nothing short of torture to him. And though you have every intention to take the ache away… when would you get another opportunity like this? Where this giant is tied down and unable to resist the pleasure you bring him. Where you’re completely… in control. Fuck, you’ve never felt like this before. It's exhilarating. It’s a feeling of power. Of dominance.

A smirk pulls at your lips.

You begin to pull yourself to your knees, brushing your swollen breasts against his lips. His tongue darts out, eager for a taste. Looking down, you cup one breast with your hand, and guide your stiff nipple into his mouth. His lips pucker over it, closing once they make contact for a vacuum seal.

Your breath hitches when you feel his tongue tickle the sensitive tip of your nipple. His teeth graze against them as he tries to do this handsfree, and you let out a low hiss. Soon his movements grow erratic, being bound to the marui stilt is starting to frustrate him.

“Ah-ah. What do you need, karyu? Just tell me.” Your voice is feigned with innocence. He breathes heavy against your chest, keeping quiet as his focus is purely on getting his fill. “You won’t get anything from them.” You tsk, tugging away little by little, until eventually you pop off his mouth.

You continue to rise to your feet, dragging his lips along your swelling tummy, until he’s eye level to the band of your tewng. You can feel his eyes pierce into you, his stare is anything but discreet. It’s intimidating. Your hand flies to the back of your loincloth, fiddling with the knot to untie it.

“Is it this?”

The cloth drops to your ankles, exposing your flushed cunt to him. It’s pink and hot to the touch, undeniably aroused. Your scent grows stronger with each passing second, filling his lungs. It’s driving him insane—being able to see and smell, but not touch. His rut is only making him more irritable. He just needs to fuck into something and spill himself inside.

His eyes glisten over an even brighter shade of purple, locking onto their meal. He wets his bottom lip with a quick swipe of his tongue as you take a step closer. You cup his jawbone, tilting it upwards to look down at him. The sight is… intoxicating. His lidded eyes, blown pupils that are threatening to roll to the back of his head. Tensed brow bones and damped, slightly parted lips—not a drop of composure left in his features.

That new feeling rushes through you again, making you take two more steps forward. Your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his nose, officially branding it with your scent. He leans into you, closing his eyes and straining his neck to indulge himself.

Your thumb smoothes over his jaw before your hand slips to the back of his head. You fist his hair and yank his head back, sending his eyes flying open. With your free hand, you spread your pussy lips, exposing your swollen clit. It’s sticky and in need of attention, throbbing occasionally as you tug your hood back.

“Now, suck.” You demand breathily, slowly guiding him by the head to bring his lips to your clit.

You clench around nothing when you feel his heated, slippery lips pucker over the stiffened nub, sucking gently. Sharp eyes bore into yours before they roll back, leaving nothing but the whites exposed. Lids finally fluttering closed, he sucks a little harder, tips of his canines accidentally nipping your supple skin.

“Ss—fuck.” You hiss, hips snapping back with force, popping off his mouth with a sharp sting. Frantic fingers rub away the tingling sensation as you grit your teeth. You shuffle your feet to ground yourself as you tighten your grip on his hair and hold his head still.

“I know you’re in rut, but be good to your muntxate [wife].” You warn through your teeth before shoving his face back into your cunt.

This time he feasts with greed, groaning like a starved man. Eating, like a starved man. He’s slurping and sucking, lapping up your slick as it coats his tongue and lips, enjoying every second of your reign.

“Oh—oh shit. Fuck. Right there—” You moan breathlessly, free hand flying to his head to fist his hair, using it as leverage to keep him just where he is.

Before you know it your hips are moving on their own, humping at his face as you hold him tightly with both hands. With each thrust you shove him further back into the stilt, until the back of your hand is repeatedly hitting its surface.

Until you’re hunched over him, looking him deep in the eyes as you grind into whatever part of him your clit is rubbing against. He expertly holds his breath as he allows you full control to fuck his face as if you were the one in heat.

Because with each roll of your hips he feels it too.

He feels the jolt of pleasure that shoots through you when his tongue hits your clit in that special spot. When the tips of his canines graze your swollen folds. The feeling is all consuming and he’s whining into your cunt from the over—and under—stimulation. His cock shifts to a shade of purple, jumping each time you thrust into his mouth.

‘Sorry, Ralak. ‘m sorry.’ You think to him through tsaheylu, feeling the burn in your own lungs now.

“Haa—ah, fuck. Thrust. Fuck. Thrust. F-Fuck! I’m gonna cum—in your—ngh!” Your voice quavers as you come suddenly undone in his mouth, holding him firm and still as you rock your body into him.

His eyes slam shut and his brows knit tightly together as he grunts repeatedly into your cunt. He tugs harshly at his restraints and his heels dig into the woven floor. Yet still, you hold onto him even tighter until your pussy stops fluttering.

With a loud, shaky gasp, you yank him away, letting go of his hair to grab the marui stilt to stop your trembling legs from giving out beneath you. Ralak wheezes loudly, shoulders heaving harshly as he frantically pants for air. His face is bright pink, flushed and glazed in a layer of sweat. He opens his eyes but they’re so heavy that you can barely see the colour in them.

“Rutxe [please].” Ralak begs through a desperate groan, flicking his stare downwards. And when you look, you’re met with the sight of his still-throbbing cock, covered in his sticky, thick cum. Shiney beads still ooze out and dribble down his length and onto his swollen, firm balls.

His first word was a plea of help.

Your heart aches in your chest. How could you let yourself go so far with your little bit of power? To be so selfish. And here he was, in so much discomfort and yet you put your needs first. Leaving him so neglected to the point his body makes the release for him. Is this how he felt after he unleashed six pent up years on you in a couple days?

Pent up years of suffering.

“Shh. You’re okay, my love. You’re okay.” You whisper as you slowly squat down. “I got you. I’m going to make it…” you hold eye contact with him as you lower yourself onto his cock, aligning his tip with your sopping entrance, “…all better now.”

You wince when his cock slowly penetrates you, mewling a little higher with every inch you manage to take. The stretch is almost unbearable. This is the first rut you’ve spent with him without being in heat.

No foggy haze to dull the ache.

No emptiness to be filled.

And it doesn’t help that your womb is already so full.

Your mewl quickly turns into a whimper when your bodies become flush to one another. Ralaks head slumps back into the marui stilt and he heaves a loud, lengthy moan of relief from being buried deep inside your warm cunt. You feel so good around him, making his cock heat up and twitch inside of you.

Snaking your arms around his neck, you hold onto him as you frantically try to adjust to his size. It’s dawning on you exactly what you’ve gotten yourself into, and that you’ve seriously underestimated his rut. A sense of uncertainty begins to tighten your stomach but it quickly dissipates when you hear Ralak’s second plea.

“Rutxe, ma’ tanhì..” Ralak mutters with a pained, gravelly voice.

Without another word, you move your hips up and down, dragging his length along your gummy, slick walls. Your movements are sloppy and uncoordinated, you’re not used to doing most of the work much less all of it. With his hands tied behind his back, you can already feel the burn in your thighs and the throb in the tips of your toes.

Regardless, you keep moving your hips.

Bouncing up and down on his cock, pressing your forehead into his in a poor attempt to steady your position. That little sting slowly morphs into something of pleasure the more your hips meet his with a slap. And soon all you can hear is smack, after smack, after smack. The noises that split his lips tell you all you need to know. He’s feeling good and that’s all that matters.

But exhaustion hits you quickly—unexpectedly. His cock is buried to the hilt inside you, and the more tired your legs get, the deeper it drills inside you, pressing harshly into your cervix. Your legs are trembling uncontrollably and you can barely catch your breath, leaving you no choice but to lazily rock back and forth on his cock.

Ralak lets out a grunt and bucks his hips.

“Haah!” You yelp.

Ralaks ears lay flat, lips pursed tightly into a thin line. He can’t hold back his frustration any longer. He’s growing impatient. If he didn’t get his real release soon he may really lose it. He’s grunting through his nose and tugging at his restraints, bruising his wrists. You feel him shift his hips up and shove his cock as far as he can inside you.

“Ngh! I-It won’t go any deeper!” Your voice strains as you try to lift yourself up. But he just keeps pushing until his feet are grounded. And then his hips drop, pulling his cock half way out of you.

Thrust.

Ralak slams his cock back inside you, drilling deeper than he was before. Your mouth falls open as all the air is forcefully expelled from your lungs. As you suck in a gasp of air he thrusts inside you again. And again. And again. Until he’s rutting into you in a feverish frenzy, chasing his climax as if it were prey. His thrusts turn relentless, leaving you breathless with each buck of his hips.

“Fuck—fuck—fu—” Your voice bounces with his thrusts.

You look down, met with eyes that are empty yet heavy with appetite. He’s in the thick of it and he’s no longer all there. He’s purely instinct now and the only thing holding him back from pinning you down and having his way with you is the twine wrapped around his wrists.

You can’t lie and say that you aren’t enjoying the look on his face and the break from the burn in your thighs. Stars sprinkle your vision as you’re overwhelmed with the immense pleasure he’s slamming into you. He’s fucking you into submission and you’re mind is borderline blank. His groans are primal and guttural, and they grow louder with each hysteric thrust.

“Want to knot.” He huffs suddenly—desperately. You can feel his thick knot poke and prod at your entrance, his thrusts now sloppy and erratic.

“Fuck, I—” You know you shouldn’t, no matter how hazy his rut is making you feel. “W-We can’t. I’m still ea—rly.” But he’s too busy watching himself fuck you in a daze, drenched with sweat. “Ralak…” You grab his face, tilting his chin upwards so he looks you in the face. His gaze is hollow yet his features are tense. “…are y–ou hear–ing me, la–k?”

“Need to breed.” He growls as he fights against his restraints. He doesn’t ease up on his tussle with the twine, sweating and panting as he desperately tries to force his knot inside you.

“Shit.” You mutter, coming to the quick realisation that he can’t stop himself. “Wait, wait, wait—”

Your hands fall from his face to his stomach, pushing down in a panicky attempt to lift yourself off him. But his rut is making you sluggish and weak, so you make the quick decision to sever the bond with a rough yank.

Snap.

“Oh, fuck.” You curse under your breath.

The twine breaks, and his arms fly forward, hands making impact with your hips, fingernails digging into the thin skin. His grip is unyielding as he holds you down firmly on his cock. You feel him throb inside you as he attempts to plug you full with his knot.

“Lak! Ralak, h-hold on!” As much as you actually want to, you can barely take what’s inside you as it is.

“Submit.” He rasps, top lip curled tight to his teeth, baring his canines.

“I—I’m pregnant.” You whisper quickly, voice hoarse and strained.

Immediately, his movements cease and his eyes flick down to your tiny bump, then widen when he finally realises. In one swift, sudden move, he lifts you off him and uses your swollen pussy lips to hug his cock and finish himself off. He rocks you back and forth like a rag doll at the mercy of undying grip, growling and grunting.

His head drops forward when he outright howls. You look down and witness his mushroomy head pulsating feverishly, spurting out his load in thick ropes, all over his stomach and chest. All whilst his engorged, throbbing knot pulses against your slit as he cums, earning some well deserved comfort and warmth.

Ralak sputters as he tries to catch his breath, hands still glued to your hips. The fog still clouds his mind but it’s less blinding now. He’s just about capable of acknowledging what just happened. To acknowledge that this was risky, and could’ve ended badly. That, if you hadn’t said something to him, he would have knotted you without mercy.

An uncomfortable silence passes between you, where you’re both breathing heavily and staring at one another. You both share the same thought—the same realisation. His rut is too aggressive for you to handle right now.

“I must go.” Ralak looks away as he breaks the silence, wanting to take advantage of his release before the pressure builds yet again. He’s clear headed enough to leave without turning back and pouncing on you.

“No, don’t… we can try again.” You say softly, hand cupping his jawbone, turning him to face you. You feel terrible that he may have to spend this rut alone, that you couldn’t fulfil your promise—your duty as his mate.

“I almost knotted you, y/n.” His eyes gloss over with guilt, his hands finally peeling away your bruised hips.

“But… you didn’t. You stopped yourself—”

“And if I do not leave now… I will.” Ralak growls inches away from your face.

You’re a little taken aback by his bluntness, but you know it’s the truth. And it’s final. No matter what you say. No matter how it makes the flesh between your legs throb a little more. You nod, keeping yourself quiet.

“I will see you in a couple days. I love you both.” Your lips meet briefly before he carries you to bed and readies himself to leave. You watch in silence, murmuring an “I love you, too” under your breath when he exits the marui.

—

As time passed you grew more angsty, unable to keep in one spot or focus on a single task. All that ran on your mind was Ralak and how he was probably suffering all alone. All because you failed to do your duty as his mate. The guilt was almost sickening, having you dry heaving into your bedside bucket a few times for the rest of the day.

Until later that night.

You rub in the thick, oily concoction on your belly, getting ready for bed. The sound of the marui door flapping open startles you, making you jump in your skin and clutch your stomach. You’re not expecting Ralaks return so soon.

A silhouette stands tall at the door, his bioluminescent star pattern unmistakable.

“Ralak? Oh, Ralak. Eywa. You’re back. I should have made dinner. I thought you'd be gone for a while longer. You must be so hungry. You—” You speak urgently, eyes flicking down to his tewng, which is seemingly damp, “—was it too much? …are you alright? Let me help you, lak.”

“Tanhì.” Ralaks cuts you short, voice trembling slightly, yet full of relief. “It is done.”

“…what?” The question is breathy.

“My rut.” Ralak says as he makes his way towards you, scooping up a glob of your special concoction. He sits next to you, and begins massaging it into your back. “You have fixed me.”

You come to the realization that he's talking about his rut finishing earlier than usual—like that of an average na'vi.

“You were never broken, my love.” You moan softly, closing your eyes to enjoy the massage.

Ralak then rests his chin on your shoulder, smoothing his hands down your back and around your abdomen—rubbing what's left on his hands onto your swelling belly. His touch prickles your skin, sending the tip of your tail swishing.

“I live for you.” He mutters with a thick accent, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I will die for you.”

Your heart skips a beat when you hear his words, he must have really been suffering for the past six years. You feel your face heat up, and you try to fight the smile balling your cheeks. You opt to drop your head and hide your face instead, resting a hand on his thigh.

“Well. We won’t have you doing that.” You giggle, rubbing his upper thigh as you turn your head to glance at him. “…the last part, that is.”

But he just looks at you, face still as stone. He speaks sternly.

“I will.” He speaks sternly.

You swallow your spit, tempted to drop your head again as you take in the gravity of his two words. You nod, searching his eyes with yours as you close the space between you. You hover open mouthed against his lips.

“Me too.”

——

Time waits for no one.

At least that’s how it felt. You had ballooned overnight, round and a little heavier as you embarked on your sixth month of pregnancy. His kicks grew stronger and more uncomfortable. But it was Ralaks favourite thing to feel before bed.

You found yourself spending most of your days bouncing between your marui and your family’s marui—paying your family visits more often. They grew fond of the idea that there would be an addition to the family and it became a regular thing for you to seek refuge there when Ralak was roped in for his ‘duties’. Which seemed to increase in number the further along you progressed.

Ralak had his daily duties—tending to the ilus, a few lessons, fishing... These were just the simpler tasks that you could say you knew for certain he did. But there were his ‘fkxaranga’ [stressful] duties’, as you liked to call them.

The ones where Tonowari would summon him with nothing else but a simple nudge or glance. The duties that were spontaneous. That stole precious hours of his time. Duties that left Ralak spent and on edge, reaching for his top shelf when he came home. Those were the ones you dreaded the most.

The ones like last night.

——

With a huff, Ralak chucks his gear onto the floor and roughly unclips his chest piece. His pointed tools are covered in some sort of thick, iridescent muck, shifting from green to orange as they rock side to side on the floor. It’s something you’ve been seeing recently with no idea as to what it is.

Ralak grunts, bringing your attention to his lips, which are slightly downturned. The more you take in the sight before you the more it occurs to you how exhausted this man is. His eyes are hollow, ears droopy, tail dragging heavily behind him. His muscles are seized up despite the bow of his shoulders—he looks as if he could use a massage.

“Manga [Hey, you].” You get up to meet him at the door, taking the chest piece out of his hands to hang up on the wooden stand. “Tonowari is working your tail off. Do I need to have a word with that man?”

He only works up a grumble as you lead him over to the bed. “That bad? What is he making you do? Hunt akulas? Eywa.”

Ralak sits down, face sinking into his hands before two fingers slip down to pinch the bridge of his nose. You climb up and settle behind him, huffing and puffing along the way. Your hands smooth over his back, thumbs pressing firmly into his muscles, kneading the flesh until you feel him loosen up.

Though the question sounded rhetorical, he knew it wasn’t. He knows you’re awaiting a response, the silence is loud and clear. You always want to know more about his day, fine details and all. And he’s usually reluctant to speak of it, but insisting it’s nothing for you to worry your head over. But recently, your inquisitivity is… well founded. And he knows it.

“Not quite.” He mumbles wearily into his palm, ears laid flat to his skull–although it wasn’t uncommon for him to encounter an akula or two whilst fulfilling the olo’eyktan’s orders.

You open your mouth to question him further, but you can tell that he’s more than tired. And it didn’t help that you were constantly needing his help, especially now that you’re growing heavier.

Going down the stairs is a struggle considering you can no longer see your own feet or keep your balance. You had been waking him up almost twice a night to help you down the marui stairs just to pee. He’d always be happy to help, though. He understands that this is what comes with the changes that are happening to your body that’s giving life to his child.

“Rest. Please.” You say softly, tugging at him to lie down in bed with you.

To your surprise, he actually lays down, assuming his typical position before dozing off for the night—on his back with a hand on your belly. You expected him to resist a little, insisting something or another.

He really, really must be tired. Your heart fills with something heavy. Something that makes you almost feel sick. Your brows pinch as you look beside you to see his tensed face relax into something of tranquility.

And a smile pulls at your lips when his eyes fall shut.

Dinner’s over the firepit—his favourite stew with extra mushrooms. The sound of it bubbling becomes louder as it thickens. With a quick, final stir, you take it off the fire and cover it to let it sit. You hope that this will help lift his mood when he wakes. You look over to him as he lays stockstill with softened features, breathing tidally.

Holding onto a supporting beam of the marui, you bring yourself to your feet and waddle your way over to him. You extend a hand to wake him for dinner but you hesitate. He needs this. And that’s when you make the decision to allow him however long it takes to rest. Even if it means that you speak to Tonowari yourself.

Night falls and the temperature falls with it. The glowing firepit keeps the stew and marui warm for the time being as you prepare for bed. You draw the curtains and glance over to your mate, who still remains in a deep sleep, tucked cozily under the blanket you covered him with. You drape the shawl he wove you over your shoulders, and make your way to the door.

A silent yawn splits your lips just before you lift away the flap. Your eyelids are heavy and the drowsiness is weighing on you tenfold. You have one last step of your nightly routine before you can crawl into bed next to your husband. And that's emptying the bladder that your son uses as a footrest. Plus, if you didn’t do it now, it would just be an additional trip in the middle of the night.

As you make your way to the door, the need to go becomes urgent. Perhaps it was all the water you thirstily chugged whilst eating, or maybe it's just the fact that you're already on your way there. Either way, you can’t seem to get there quick enough. Your movements turn hasty the second you get to the top step, hands clutching on the only thing available—your bulging belly. You’re looking down despite the fact that you can’t even see your feet.

Leaning forward slightly, you try to shift your stomach to the side to see your next step. You step down and feel your bare foot make contact with the slippery wood. Your toes press into its surface to ground you as you take your next step. You wobble when you get to the last step, and sigh in relief when you feel the cold, wet sand spill between your toes.

After wasting no time and doing what you came to do, you quickly make your way back to the marui. The tips of your ears and tails are just going numb from how cold it is and the night dew is beginning to form. You get to the bottom step, fixing your shawl so that it’s out the way. You make your way up the first, second and third step, but when you get to the fourth your shawl falls forward.

And so do you.

A blood curdling shriek rips from your throat when you feel your feet give out beneath you. Your hands splay out to grab onto whatever’s around you to break your fall but before you know it you're tumbling back down the stairs at a frightening rate. You keep on your side as best you can, landing into the sand with a muffled thump.

“Fuck. Shit—oh, great mother—” You mutter as you hyperventilate, clutching your stomach as you wait for your son to kick—to show you some sign of life. Your eyes well with tears as you rub your bump vigorously. Your heart is slamming violenting against your rib cage, so hard you can hear it over the ringing in your ears. “Please, please, please.”

…but nothing.

“Y/n?!” You hear Ralaks worried voice boom behind you, then his hurried footsteps down the stairs.

Maybe it’s his fathers voice, but your unborn son gives you one of the biggest kicks yet. You sob out a laugh, rubbing your stomach as relief flows through your body. You take a few deep breaths through your mouth to calm down, feeling another reassuring kick.

“Y/n. Y/n.” Ralak chants your name, eyes rapidly darting side to side to assess you as he kneels beside you. Concern’s etched deeply into his features as he lifts your arms and legs, searching for injuries.

“I’m alright. I’m alright.” You repeat urgently, but he continues to look, even taking off your shawl. His eyes are wide and he seems to be in some level of shock, especially after coming straight out of a deep sleep. “Ralak. Really. I’m fine. We’re okay.”

Ralaks features soften at your two final words. His stare falls to your swollen belly, hands taking the place of yours as he waits. After a few seconds of stillness, his eyes snap up to yours—refilling with worry. He begins to shake his head, and you reassure him with a hand to his face.

“Talk to him.” You whisper with trembling lungs. Ralak looks back down to your stomach.

“Maitan [My son].” Your mate says in a low, steady voice, ensuring not to allow even a hint of fright slip through. Just then, he feels a little nudge against the palm of his hand. Ralaks gaze snaps up to you and his expression relaxes, hands rubbing your belly gently. “How did this happen, tanhì?”

“I…needed to pee.” You say shamefully, avoiding eye contact. “…and I tripped going up the steps.” You glance up at him to see what you perceive to be a face of disappointment. “I’m sorry. I know, I’m so stupid.”

“No. Do not say that.” He interjects, tensing his jaw. “...you are heavy with child—why did you not wake me?”

“You were so, so tired. You needed to rest, and I did not want to disturb you.” You turn to your side to get up, wincing when a sharp pain shoots down your back.

“Careful.” He clears his throat, stopping you from trying to get up on your own. He watches your contorted face relax, but the heart wrenching guilt just gets worse. “You should have. Wake me for anything.” He says sternly, snaking his arms underneath you to lift you up. “Everything.”

“You really don’t have to—” Ralak continues, scooping you in his arms and holding you close to his chest. “I can walk. I’m all right, Ralak.”

You try to reassure him, shuffling in his arms to get down. But he only muffles out a sigh, glancing down at you with downturned brows and droopy ears. He then walks away from the marui stairs, to the direction of the water.

“Where are we going?” You ask quickly when you realise that you’re walking away from home. Ralak clicks for his tsurak, taking his time as he mounts it with you tucked to his chest. “Ralak.”

“To tsahìk.” He states, making the bond with his beast.

“Ronal?” You sound almost panicked as the idea of everyone knowing you fell up the stairs clouds your mind. It’s almost mortifying to think about. “We don’t need to do that, it’s really late too, and—”

Commanding his beast to go, you both take off at full speed. It doesn’t take long to arrive at the tsahìk’s healing pod. Many healers gather at the door when they hear the sound of Ralak’s low pitched call. And they rush out to meet him as he carries you towards them in a hurried manner. They usher you in, hushed murmurs growing louder and clearer as they bring you to Ronal.

You didn’t even notice the burning pain in your lower back until you were about half way here.

The Tsahìk stands upon your entrance, her crystal blue eyes widening when she sees Ralak with you in his arms. You wince as he lays you down where the healers instruct him to. She strides over to a woven basket filled with an array of herbs and needle-like wooden sticks, and quickly props it on her hip—just out of the way of her own bump. She settles herself beside you, feeling your stomach as she channels Eywa.

Ronal throws a look to Ralak, whose hands are on his hips as he waits patiently for the verdict.

“She fell.” He says, only for Ronal to cock an eyebrow. “Stairs.” He finishes. Then both her eyebrows raise, and she reaches for a jar of a ground up, purplish herb. She pours half of it into a wooden bowl, and activates it with a few drops of water from the spirit tree.

“Baby is strong. Very strong.” The Tsahìk announces, and both you and Ralak heave a loud sigh of relief. “But—” Ronal props your legs up on the makeshift table, spreading them slightly. Embarrassment flushes your cheeks as you look over to Ralak. “You are still at risk.”

Ralak moves closer to you, taking your hand in his to keep you calm. You both watch as Ronal rolls the fabric tightly into a small cylindrical shape. You swallow your spit when you realise exactly where that’s going.

“This ensures he stays. It will also help with the pain.” She states, glancing at Ralak to see the glare he’s trying to hold back. She shakes her head slightly and hands you the precautionary apparatus. “Insert. Rest…and remove at sunrise.” Ronal continues, drawing back the curtain to give you some privacy.

“Sunrise?” You whisper to yourself as you watch her step out.

Your eyes dart up to Ralak who is clearly concerned, staring down at you with worry in his eyes. Embarrassment heats up your cheeks and your nerves fray. Why are you so shy all of a sudden? He’s your mate. Your husband.

You sit up a bit more and try to see over your stomach to get the task done with shaky hands. You fumble and struggle with the flimsy cloth, blindly doing your best. But each time you lean forward the pain in your back burns hotter.

Ralak’s supporting you with a hand on your upper back, patiently waiting for you, noticing your trembling fingers and little grunts. He uses his free hand to cup yours, stilling your hurried movements.

“Mawey [calm]. Breathe.” He hums, gently taking it from you and helping you lay down.

You look him in the eyes as he inserts it carefully, wincing when the concoction stings a bit. Ralak gives your hand a light squeeze, speaking as if he had access to your thoughts. You nod, trying to smile through the burning sensation, but he picks up on your discomfort.

“What is it? Is it your back?" His voice quavers with worry.

“No… just burns a little.” You say quietly. You watch his jaw flutter and his shoulders droop as he huffs out a sigh. “Not to worry. It’s going away now.”

As he’s about to speak, the curtain is drawn to the side and Ronal comes in and stands at the arched entrance, hand on her hip. Ralak averts his attention to her, his eyes glancing down at her unborn moving in her belly. Although you were both six months pregnant, you were noticeably bigger than her.

“A word.” Her serious tone of voice brings him out of deep thought, and her nudging head tells him that it’s something urgent.

Ralak looks at you, not wanting to leave you alone but you smile and reassure him with a light nod. He clenches his jaw but you give him a gentle push towards Ronal. He squeezes your hand before letting go and leans in to plant a firm kiss on your forehead. You watch as he leaves, laying back and taking in the ripples in the curtain as you strain to hear their hushed conversation.

“Ronal. Oe irayo si ngaru. [Thank you]” Ralak begins, bowing before the shorter na’vi.

“I worry for your mate.” Ronal cuts to the chase, using her hand to guide him further away from the curtain.

“For what reason?” He asks, keeping his head hung to hear what she has to say. They walk until they’re nearly at the entrance of the healing pod.

“Your son is fast growing.” She speaks calmly but quickly.

Ralak is a little puzzled, although he doesn’t show it. Is that such a bad thing? He continues to look down at her with the same expression, listening intently to what the tsahìk speaks of.

“Her body will struggle. Birth will be hard. Very long and painful.” Now Ralak is having a hard time keeping his emotions concealed as they chisel themselves into his features. Yet he remains silent. “You must warn her about mun’i [the cut].”

“Pxasìk [no way/fuck that]” Ralak curses through a hiss in his native tongue as he stands at full height, figuratively and literally taken aback. How dare she call that upon his mate? Ronal returns a low hiss as Ralak moves away from her, staring down at her with a mixture of emotions.

Concern. Surprise. Fear.

Mun’i [the cut] is rare and risky. Only three have been performed since the birth of this clan, all done in desperation when hope was gone. The last one was performed by Ronal's mother herself. It is an extremely invasive procedure where the mother is cut and the infant is removed. It’s only done in dire situations, where the mother is incapable of giving birth to their young naturally, and risks dying in the process.

Ralak can’t help but feel a burning anger amongst the sea of emotions flooding him at once. How could she suggest such a thing to him? Something so dangerous and grave? All because you will give birth to ‘a different kind’. He’s more than confident that you’re capable of this, despite the murmurs circulating the clan.

He has always been aware of Ronal's perception of you, and her opinion about the mating. It was no secret, though she never outwardly told Ralak as he is like a son to her. She often insisted that you two were not compatible in more ways than one, and always saw you as the forest girl who needed special training. But to know that Ronal doubts your capabilities to give life ignites a flame in his chest.

One that he must quickly put out.

“Ralak!”

He hears you call out for him, prompting him to quell the flame and shoot Ronal a glare of displeasure. “She is stronger than you know.” Ralak speaks through his teeth before turning his heel to tend to you.

Heart pounding, he makes his way through the curtain to be met with the joyous sight of you cradling your stomach with a smile plastered to your face. That only further calms the flicker of the flame in his chest, making a smile tug at his lips. He sees you glance up at him, pearly teeth glistening in the luminosity of the night.

“Sorry if I startled you, it’s just—he’s kicking so hard. Come, come feel!” You blubber excitedly, reaching out for his hand to place it on your belly. He slowly takes a knee, staying still as stone to soak up each movement. “He is so strong, Ralak. Like you.” You whisper, looking down at your mate doting on your bump.

Though he should be proud of your words, he can’t help but feel a little nervous by them. If this child is really like him, then what Ronal said may have some truth to it. Yet he smiles, smoothing his thumb over your protruding belly button.

“He is strong like his sa’nu [mummy].” He says softly, perhaps in attempts to reassure himself and calm his own nerves. Your smile only grows and you place your hand on top of his.

“What did Ronal say?” Ralaks eyes snap up to yours, wide and almost panicked, wiping the smile off your face instantly. “Oh, no. Is it bad? Is something wrong?”

“No, no. She says…” He drops his head, watching his unborn move as he contemplates telling you. You need rest, and this would further stress your mind and body. Ralak urges himself to smile—to create a new mask—one of feigned happiness. “…you must rest. Wait until sunrise.”

“Oh, okay.” You exhale a sigh of relief, “Good. I—I can do that.”

——

After such an eventful night, sleep found you easily. Ralak carried you up the marui stairs, tucked you into bed and watched as your eyes fluttered shut. And even so, he remained at your side for some time, ensuring you were deep in sleep before embarking on his new task.

It began with a ‘quick’ trip inland for the right kind of wood. The kind that holds up well against the elements and the saltiness of the water. The kind that doesn’t have a slip to it when it's been wet for more than a few hours. It took a few trips to get it all back to the beach but it was more of an irritable task than a difficult one.

Ralak tried to keep as quiet as possible, spending the rest of the night—until sunrise—cutting and carving the wood, binding them together with twine, sap and wooden pins. And by the time the first few rays of sunlight beamed in, he was engraving his finishing touches.

—

Ralak chucks down the tool and it lands into the sand with a muffled thud. Using the back of his strake to wipe his forehead clean of sweat, he looks up at his work for a final time—railings for the marui stairs. Then the bright ray of sun shines before his eyes, standing between his two new creations.

You.

You’re surprised to see him out this early, still in his gear from last night. The realisation dawns on you that he’s been up all night, doing this. You can actually feel your chest warm up as your heart pumps the blood through your veins at an insane rate. It rushes to your cheeks, making them hot and flushed.

“Is this what you’ve been doing all night?” You ask the question under your breath, dragging a hand along the railing. It’s smooth under the pads of your fingers, and warm to the touch, as if they’ve just been filed down. You notice a small carving on the side of the railing—your son’s initial.

“Mm.” He grunts, not that he could have slept anyways. He glances at the initial that you’re staring at. “I should have done it long ago.” The shame in his voice is loud and clear. You look down at your feet, unsure of what to say, noticing that he’s redone the steps too.

“Ralak—”

“You must still wake me. Understand?” He cuts you off, already knowing what you’re about to say.

You take a step down, holding tightly onto the railing with one hand and the other tucked under your bump. He rushes up the stairs and supports you by the arm. You lean into him for a hug, nuzzling your face into his chest. “… thank you, my love.”

“Kea tìkin [no need (for thanks)].” He presses his lips onto the crown of your head, words muffled by your hair. His hand slips down your arm and rests on your lower back. “Still feeling pain?”

“No. I feel good. Like new.” You smile, watching his features soften and his lips pull into a subtle smile. “Your son, too. He kicked me all night.”

“Is that so, young one?” He leans down to speak to your belly as you watch intently, “you must be gentle with your sa’nu [mummy].”

As he looks back up to you, your eyes follow his every move. And suddenly it’s just the two of you, before the orange glow of the sunrise, sharing this intimate gaze with one another.

“Ralak… I see you.” You say softly, witnessing his pupils blow until there’s nothing but thin rings of blue.

He swallows, you see the lump in his throat undulate, and the balls of his cheeks stain a light pink. He blinks a few times, leaning in until his lips brush against yours. He lingers there for a bit, jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth a few times. He can’t help but feel a pang in his chest.

How could he keep this from you?

“Oel ngat kame, ma’ muntxate.” He husks the words before locking his lips with yours.

But as he pulls away, you see the glint in his eye. When he sees your lowered brows and inquisitive eyes, he attempts to fix his mask of indifference—no, happiness. But you see right through it—

The glint of guilt.

“What is it?” You ask, reaching behind him for his kuru. It’s your way of saying, 'no secrets'. He’s quiet. Uncomfortably quiet. Unsure of how to say what he should say. You urge him with a light tug to his queue, creating a little more distance between you to look him dead in the eye. “Ralak.”

“Ronal doubts…you.” He says plainly, trying hard to rid himself of the thought of childbirth taking you away from him.

“I don’t understand. What—what does that mean?” You ask, confused and worried.

“I should have told you about it when you asked.” Ralak says, shaking his head. “But…you were already under so much stress. In pain. Our son—”

“Ralak. Tell me about what?” You whisper quietly—quickly. Ralak looks at you, allowing a few seconds of silence to pass before he speaks.

“Mun’i [the cut].” Ralak’s voice cracks with pain as the dreaded thought floods his mind.

Ralak goes on to explain mun'i, giving you a brief lesson on its history and typical…outcome. He explains why Ronal urged him to warn you about it. And exactly what he told her in return. That he is confident that you are more capable of doing this.

It ends with a comforting embrace and the both of you coming to the conclusion that a conservation with Jake is needed. If the cut were to happen, the sky people’s medical advancements would be…useful.

——

Since then, Ralak adapted a very strict agenda when it came to the preparation of the birth. In some ways, it reminded you of the beginning of your relationship with him as teacher and student. Karyu and Numeyu. A revision of previous lessons, such as breathing lessons.

—

“Deeper breaths, tanhì. Slow.” Ralak instructs you with his hand on your round belly.

“It’s hard…” your voice is strained, “when his feet are in my lungs.”

Ralak chuckles, nodding in understanding. “Right. Do your best.”

You attempt to follow his demonstration a fifth time, inhaling deeply through your nose, holding it, and then slowly letting it out through your mouth. “Light headed now.”

“You did well.” Ralak praises you, snaking an arm around you as he lowers you onto your back. “You all right?”

“Just fine.” You mutter, grateful for the new position.

Ralak looks at you for a while, taking in a sight that may be similar to the one of you giving birth—giving life. The reality that you will soon be a family quickly dawns on him. The reality that… Ronal's words still weigh heavy on his heart.

“And when you bear down…” Ralak pulls your leg back, your knee now grazing against your cheek as they flush with embarrassment. “…shallow, fast breaths. Do not hold it.”

He then demonstrates, emphasising the sound of the breathing technique to ensure you’re doing it properly.

'…hee—hee—hoo…'

You mimic his sounds, looking down to see nothing but your protruding bump. It may be strange to some that Ralak is teaching you a lesson on something such as childbirth. But with his mother-figure being the tsahìk, there were just certain things he grew to have knowledge of.

“Ronal says there are times where it is best to allow your body to take over. Focus on breathing him out. Let your body do the work for you…” You nod slowly as you practice deep breathing in this new position, “…she will show you some positions in your lesson tomorrow.”

"What?" Your ears perk up. For some reason one on one interactions with Ronal always make you nervous.

“The other expecting women of the clan will be there.”

Your ears relax, and you feel a little more at ease knowing you won’t be alone, even if it’s a sea of gossiping women. At least they were more discreet about it.

——

As you neared the final months of your pregnancy, Ralak was called out more frequently. The aches and pains that came along with being so big were just as frequent, it seemed. They’d hit you at the strangest times, during your sleep or whilst on your tsurak.

But when the pain spread to your abdomen is when Ralak urged you to take things easy. But they didn’t stop him from going anywhere. No matter how badly he wanted to stay home and tend to you. It was more complicated than that. Something that you were blissfully unaware of. Something he wanted to keep that way until it was the right time to tell you.

—

“Must you go?” You ask hopefully, tugging at his bicep. “You just got back.”

“Tono will have my head, tahnì.” He states, buckling his chest gear yet another time for today.

“It’s not fair. Not even the warriors back at home tree were called out so much. Especially if their mate was this far along.” You huff, letting go off his bicep to clutch your protruding belly. He cups a hand over yours, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“Ah. I know, I know. I want to stay, I do—” He’s cut off by your sudden gasp, and your face screwing with discomfort. “Are you alright?” His voice turns fills with concern, head tilting even more so that he can look you in the face. It felt as if your back set ablaze and your stomach hardened into rock. It eases up within a few seconds and you take a quick breath before answering.

“Yeah, I think so.” You feel around your bump, taking note of how it’s softened and back to normal. “…that’s the second one today.”

“Hm. It is. See Ronal while I am gone.” Ralak insists, tucking a couple loose braids behind your ear. You nod in response, gritting your teeth from the reminder that he’s leaving again. “I will speak with Tonowari today.”

He’s quick to kiss you, lingering longer than he should. You savor his tender touch, breathing him in until you’ve gotten your fill to last you until he’s back. He pulls away, a grimace fixed to his face as it’s almost painful to do. He rubs your belly a final time, clicking for his beast. Reluctantly, he leaves, and so do you.

—

‘Practice Contractions.’

Ronal’s diagnosis of your pains.

You’re not entirely unfamiliar with the concept. Mom calls them something different, but it all means the same thing at the end of the day. The body’s way of preparing to give birth. The constriction of your stomach, accompanied by intense pain, at random times with no rhythm.

It’s normal, and expected. Ronal was particularly pleased to see your body do this early in your pregnancy. It typically occurs a couple weeks prior to birth, and both of you weren’t due for another month.

They’re nothing to worry about, but she advises to rest if they get too intense. You waddle home with your tail dragging behind you, unhappy to see no sign of your mates return.

—

“You are late.” Tonowari speaks monotonously, back turned to Ralak as he keeps his eyes on his task—forging a new tool. Ralak has to swallow his frustration and maintain his confidence.

“It will happen soon.” He responds in a similar tone, his eyes following as the olo’eyktan stands. “I must be with her.”

“I understand. I do. But—” Tonowari finishes up the last touches, giving the tool its final inspection. “This is your duty, son.”

“She, is my duty.” Ralak snaps, his frustration slipping through.

Feeling challenged, Tonowari turns to face him, now eye level with Ralak as he slowly nears his subordinate—chest to chest. But with a pregnant mate of his own, and the fact that Ralak is like his own son, Tonowari huffs a sigh and gives this a pass.

“This is for her, too. For the people of the clan. You know what we are about to face. You will do this.” The olo’eyktan states sternly. “When the horn sounds… you come. And that…” he shoves the tool into Ralak’s chest, “…is an order.”

Holding the tool against his own chest, Ralak looks away from Tonowari, grinding his back teeth hard enough to file them flat. He breathes heavily, attempting to recenter himself and stamp out the flame flickering in his chest. Tonowari gives him space, going ahead and mounting his skimwing, readying himself to embark on their journey. Whilst Ralak is left behind to let out a sluggish, shaky breath, closing his eyes when it dawns on him...

…what he must do, where he must go and who he must see.

All before coming home this evening.

—

“Zu’té.”

Ralak calls his name outside of the secluded, dim marui pod. It’s familiar, yet so unknown. It’s an eerie feeling to be standing here. It’s as if no one’s home. Not a single flame burning, nor the residual heat of a smothered fire pit. But Ralak can sense his presence. It’s thick. Aggressive. Just as it’s always been. It’s only intensified since the incident.

The silence is deafening now. A message loud enough to have Ralak reconsidering his actions—rethinking his feelings. No part of him really desired to ask anything of this man, much less this. But in the case Tonowari really doesn’t budge with his decision, it is something he must do. No matter how many years have passed. Ralak has moved on…come to terms with what’s happened, and is in a much better place in his life now. Because of you.

You.

He’s doing this for you. Or is he? The fact he’s fathered a child has a major influence on his decision to be standing here to begin with… perhaps it’s something within him driven by nature—by instinct. The further you’ve progressed, the more he’s thought about rekindling this relationship. But he always brushed off these passing thoughts, until they were no longer just thoughts that passed. They became thoughts that lingered and kept him awake some nights.

Showing their faces the most when Tonowari reminds him of the imminent danger the clan may face.

They reminded him of the good times when they were children. Teasing the ilus when no one was looking, sneaking off to the reef where the adults went to hunt just to see what it was like. But it also reminded him of the more unfortunate moments they shared. Those that will forever leave a scar on their souls, branded by pain and suffering. Since then, Ralak took an oath to never allow his own family to suffer the way he did.

If this is what he must do, he’ll do it.

“I am in need of a favour.” Ralak finally admits, witnessing a tall, thick silhouette emerge from the marui.

At this angle, its darkness looms over Ralak ominously. Green glowing eyes peer down at Ralak as the figure's hands cross defensively over his chest. He steps out of the darkness, revealing his inked face and intricately up-kept hair. He looks as if he’s been disturbed or rudely interrupted, evident in the way his eyes pierce fearlessly into Ralak. But Ralak simply returns the leer.

“Zu’té.” Ralak speaks his name again, a little more sternly this time.

“Brother. To what do I owe this visit?” His tone is sarcastic with undertones of hostility.

Ralak sighs, turning his head away from his older brother, fixating his gaze elsewhere. His jawbone flutters as he struggles to figure out what words to string together next. This isn’t easy for him—being here with his tail tucked between his legs.

“It is no way easy for me to ask you of this…I know we have not spoken for some time.”

“Really? You think so? I would say it has been a little more than ‘some time’, no?” Zu’té’s irritation is shining through now.

“Agreed.” Ralak speaks sharply, dropping his head, gaze piercing into his own feet. He swallows and sighs once more, finally lifting his head to look his brother in the face. "I need your help, brother."

“Hm.” Zu’té scoffs, meeting his stare flagrantly. “Let me get this right. You come here, wake me out my sleep, speak to me like this for the first time in over forty-eight seasons…and demand my help?”

“You are the only one I trust with this.” Ralak grinds out the words, they are hard to admit.

This quietens Zu’té, causing his features to soften and his fixed stare to falter. To hear this after twelve years, straight from his brother’s mouth has him a little taken aback. There’s only one thing that it could mean—that could bring the golden child before him, begging for a favour.

War.

“What does our ‘mighty’ olo’eyktan have you up to now, baby brother?” Zu’té’s tone is especially sardonic when speaking of their father-figure.

“Plenty.” Ralak chuckles quietly, shaking his head in amusement. His curved lips fade into a thin line, returning his grim expression when he’s reminded yet again of his exact reason for being here. “Look…” Ralak exhales, “...it is nowhere likeable for me to show my face like this. Trust me, I have thought of every possible solution. But…" he shakes his head, hesitant to share what he must say next. "My mate...she is pregnant."

Zu’té’ sighs when he realizes the gravity of the situation, eyes narrowing as they look behind Ralak to scan his surroundings. He’s far from all of the neighbouring marui pods, being the last pod along the mangroves. But if someone were nearby, they could eavesdrop with ease.

Zu’té lightly nudges his head, giving Ralak the silent signal to enter his marui. Ralak moves slowly, a little surprised by his change in...heart. Annoyed with Ralak's sluggish movement, Zu’té rolls his eyes.

“What? You expect an invitation?" Zu’té asks the rhetorical question loud and clear, watching in awe as his not-so-little brother stands almost eye to eye with him. "...you've grown."

"Surprised?" Ralak mutters, ears spasming from his brother's comment—shuffling past him.

"Don't get smart with me, little brother." Zu’té snaps with his ears pinned to his skull, automatically slipping back into disciplining his younger brother like he once used to. Ralak fights the smirk pulling at his lips, making his way further into the neat, well-decorated marui.

——

Ralak came home that night, as he does most nights nowadays with a heavy tail and tensed muscles. That night he broke the news that he had no luck with Tonowari. That he remained tied to his duties as a warrior, teacher, hunter and evidently more…that you had no knowledge of.

But he made it clear that none of them came before you—his most important duty of all. He promised not only to your father, but also to you, to put you first, no matter what. That he will do whatever he needs to ensure your safety is never compromised. Even if it means putting his pride aside, and asking for help, as he did that night.

The desire to prepare for your son's arrival grew with each passing day, making you nest like an expecting ikran. You smoked enough meat to last for the next couple months, and gathered as many herbs and fruits that you could manage.

Weaving has been one of your more frequent tasks, making a couple slings and a few more blankets. Ralak was quick to build the cot when he got into a nesting frenzy, too.

But regardless of what your next task was, it was always a little bit harder…a little bit more tiring. Until you were so round and heavy that most of them became unachievable. Your size started to affect you in more ways than just physical. It started to affect you mentally, too. Playing tricks on your mind, making you think negatively about yourself.

And Ralak picked up on that very quickly.

——

As you wait for his return, you give the marui another deep clean. You take small breaks often, sitting down whenever you become short of breath.

Whilst you sweep the patio, you see your mate trudge up the stairs, ears pinned back and exhaustion wrinkled into his forehead. Ralak sees you and wastes no time to take the broom from you and pull you into his chest.

He holds you in silence. Comfortable silence. Savouring how you feel against his body. The thud of your heartbeat, the warmth of your skin. You’re his safe place. His home. As he is yours. His embrace is what you look forward to the most after a long day apart.

Perhaps this is what you both need. A moment of peace and quiet, where your focus is purely on the person in front of you. A break from the mayhem that life can entail, from the pull and push of the rough tides. Serenity. All to be interrupted by Ralak pulling away, holding you by the arms to create some distance between you two.

Furrowed brows and beaded eyes stare back at you when you look at him. He’s staring at you, but not at you. His eyes pierce into your chest, and then peel away to flick down at his stomach. A smile creeps on his face, and a huff of air through his nostrils as he chuckles softly. His gaze finally meets yours, and he lets go of your arms.

“Your milk is in.” He almost whispers, his fingertips grazing against your stomach.

“What?” You breathe, caught off guard to say the least. Your head snaps down, eyes searching every inch of your shawl to find two large, growing wet spots on it. “O-Oh.” You stutter, looking back up at him, catching sight of the glistening liquid on his stomach. “Oh.”

Your cheeks grow hot when blood rushes to them from embarrassment. Just another thing pregnancy has bestowed upon you. “Sorry, Lak.” You turn to reach for the nearby cloth that hangs by the window.

“What for?” He asks innocently—a little confused.

He watches as you wipe him down in an almost frantic manner. He stills your movements by grasping your wrists, causing you to drop the cloth. He brings your hands to his lips.

“Mawey [Calm]. Nothing to be ashamed of.” He speaks into the palm of your hands. You hear his words, but you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. “Hey.”

He lets go, and cups your cheek, urging you to look at him. When you finally do, he’s smiling down at you, allowing his hand to slip down to the bow of your shoulder—his fingers hooking underneath the hem of your shawl. “Let me clean you up, hm?”

“Oh—okay.” You stutter shyly, feeling his fingers slip under the woven fabric to slip it off your shoulders. “W-Wait.”

And when the material hits the floor, a shiver shakes your spine. Your breasts are exposed to the cool air, sticky nipples hardened into peaks for him to see. They’ve darkened in colour, and are even a little more puffy too.

Honestly, you weren’t the biggest fan of them anymore. You wore thicker tops or shawls to conceal them, just as you did your stomach with your new…stripes. But Ralak loves them, always stealing a glance at every given chance.

But to know that they’re full with milk makes him feel…on edge.

His eyes bore into them, unapologetically taking in every detail. His smile falls into a slight smirk, which then droops into a thin line. His jaw flutters as he grits his teeth, biting back his urges.

“Don’t stare.” You whisper shyly, covering your chest with one arm and your belly with the other. He looks at you, and reaches for your arms, peeling them away from your body.

“Beautiful.” He states as a fact, intertwining his fingers with yours. “So beautiful, carrying my child.”

“‘m really not.” You mumble, looking away in shame. You feel his hand move to your face, two fingers tugging at your jaw to have you look up at him. When you finally give in to his nudges, you see the look on his face. It was as if you had deeply and personally offended him.

“You are.” He insists softly.

You simply shake your head, arms instinctively wrapping around your chest and belly once more. “I don’t feel it. I don’t even know how you can look at me and say that.”

Ralak almost feels angered by your words. It hurts him to hear you speak of yourself in such a way, especially when it’s far from the truth. If anything, he’s even more attracted to you. Knowing that this is what your body is going through to bring his child into the world has made him even more appreciative of you.

“Never say such things.” He husks firmly, removing your hands from your body and keeping them in his grasp. “Do not hide.”

“You have barely touched me.” You retaliate, voice cracking with hurt.

“Not for that reason.” He’s quick to cut you short, making sure you know that the last thing stopping him from pouncing on you every chance he gets is the way you look. Absolutely not.

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself, then—”

Frustrated, Ralak shoves your hand onto his loincloth, pressing it firmly against the bulge that strains against the material. “You feel that?”

You do, you feel every inch of it, hard and warm against your palm. Your face heats up even more, cheeks staining a bright red. Your breath turns raggedy as you struggle to find the words to say.

“Hm?” He grunts as he presses himself even harder against the palm of your hand.

“Y-Yes.” You stutter. Ralak turns you around, pressing himself into you from behind. His heated lips are flush against your ear, hot breath prickling your skin.

“This is what you do to me.” Ralak husks into the shell of your ear, grinding his bulge into the swell of your ass. “Day after day.” He groans almost painfully, filled with all sorts of emotions. He holds you firm against his body, grazing his bottom teeth against the lobe of your ear. “All it takes is a single glance.” His words have your clit pulsing under your tewng and your thighs rubbing against one another. “The sight of you…of your swollen breasts… your swollen womb…” he hisses, on edge and high strung as he caresses your belly, “…it makes me lose myself.”

“Fuck.” You breathe, reaching behind you to tug his loincloth down in a frantic manner. You feel his lips nibble and nip at the skin behind your ear, making their way down the back of your neck. You can’t help but moan from the feeling, your already stiff nipples tingling from his gentle touches.

You feel his hands wander over your stomach and under your tewng, his fingers fondling your folds as he gently parts them. He grunts against your neck, inhaling your scent deep in his lungs as his hips stutter into you. Your stickiness coats his fingers as they slip and slide over your hardened nub.

You tug even harder at his loincloth, struggling to get the annoying thing off him. You let out a frustrated grunt, and he lets loose an amused chuckle, peppering soft kisses down to the bow of your shoulder.

“What is it? Need me to take you right here?” He husks low, voice muffled by his continuous kisses. “…where someone may see?”

Right, you’re on the patio.

Out in the open, under the light of the moon. Ralaks marui pod is far from the village on a cul de sac. The only thing further than here is sand, open water and a couple smaller islands off in the distance. However, there' is's always the slim chance of a na’vi or two going for a late night swim or on a romantic adventure far from the village.

But you simply didn’t care.

If anything it only riles you up more—the riskiness of it all, the thought of being caught. The need to be sneaky and quiet, when all you want to do is moan his name until your voice goes dim. It seems that Ralak feels similarly as you feel him throb against you, excited to take you where you stand.

“I don’t mind.” You huff shakily, finally tugging the cloth down enough for his cock to spring out. “Do you?”

You feel him smile against your shoulder when you grip it in your hand, smooth teeth bumping into your skin as his free hand cups your full breast.

“Not at all, my tanhì.” He breathes, gently kneading the soft flesh, feeling the trickle of your milk flow over the back of his hand.

“Good.” Your lungs tremble beneath his touch, hand desperately stroking his length. Yet he remains gentle with his touches, pinning your clit between his two fingers as he rubs you slowly. “Then hurry…I need you inside.”

Ralak quickly moves his kisses back up your neck, and you feel the tip of his tongue tickle the lobe of your ear before he suckles on it lightly. Tingles ripple up your spine, sending your head into a shiver as you lean into his mouth. His fingers dip into your soaking core just as he rolls your tender nipple between his other two digits.

It’s all too much. All-consuming. Making you gasp for air in lungs that won’t seem to fill. Fog clouds your head. How did you get here? How did this happen? Fuck, it doesn’t matter. Not when you feel like this.

You’re already so sensitive as it is, so tender and delicate, like silk under his fingers. He pushes his two fingers even deeper inside your aching pussy, curling them and earning a whimper from your lips and quiver of your tail.

“Not too loud, oeyä sevin muntxate [my pretty/beautiful wife]”. Ralak whispers the hushed praise, knowing it’s what you need to hear.

You’re so much warmer around his fingers than usual, so much softer. Wetter. With each curl of his digits comes out a squelch as he works you open for his cock that he’s been dying to plunge inside you.

You wrap your leg around his, perching your heel on the side of thigh as you lean all your weight back into him. He steadies his knees, supporting you with ease. Your head slumps back into his shoulder, opening up your neck to his hot breaths, an arm reaching behind you to fist his hair.

His brows are tense and his breath is heavy. He’s overcome with arousal and he can’t keep his composure as your scent grows stronger now your throat is directly under his nose. Truthfully it’s been too long, he knows that. He knows he’s been too protective, too cautious. Depriving you and him of the touch that’s necessary between a mated pair.

His fingers slip out of you, now expertly unravelling the loose knot just barely keeping your tewng on you. As it drops to the floor his fingers are back where they were, rubbing sloppy circles into your clit before spreading your pussylips apart. His hips stutter as he attempts to align the crown of his cock with your slit and finally buck forward when he senses your little, exposed hole.

His cock sinks inside you at an achingly slow pace—inch by inch. You let loose a lengthy moan when you feel him fill you completely, no longer caring if anyone hears you.

“Hnng—I missed you.” The gruff words slip out as he bottoms out inside your cunt. He has longed to feel your gummy walls squeeze oh-so tightly around his cock. “You alright?” He checks on you in a daze, voice thick with want—with the desire to pummel your little pussy until your voice is hoarse. But the last thing he wants is to hurt his heavily pregnant mate.

“Mhm, ple-ase.” You purr with need, closing your eyes and relaxing completely into him. Trusting someone this much feels too good. Ralak moves slowly, pumping his cock in and out of you in a languid haze, tickling your sensitive clit with just the tips of his fingers.

“Tanhì—haah—you are squeezing me so tight.” Ralak moans as his strokes grow with intent. His hips roll deep, shoving and forcing his cock inside your sensitive cunt until his swollen balls kiss your clit.

He’s unapologetically coaxing out the orgasm you’ve been denied for so long with only a few lazy thrusts. And he knows it. He can feel it from the way you clench around him. From the way your thighs tremble a little more after each deep stroke…from the sweet, filthy noises that shamelessly drip from your lips.

“Oh my—Ralak! I-I’m gonna—” You sputter the words between choked sounds, eyes welling with tears from the burn between your legs.

“I know, I know.” He huffs, dragging his hot tongue along the length of your throat. The truth is, he’s close too. But he can’t allow himself to finish inside you. He can’t risk letting himself go and pounding recklessly into your poor, tender pussy. He’s already had a long day. “Let it out, tìyawn [love].”

Its almost cathartic.

Weeks of pent up frustration released in a few minutes, leaving you near convulsing in his grip. You can’t stop the flutter of your pussy walls if you try, it’s out of your control, much like the surge of white fire going right through you. Your legs fight to stay open and you hold onto your mate to keep you standing. Gurgled noises spill from your lips as your body shudders under him. His hips still, keeping his cock buried to the hilt inside your quivering cunt as he holds you tight, supporting you until you finish riding out your high.

“Good girl. Good girl.” He praises you in a hushed, shaky voice, extremely wound up from feeling you flourish so beautifully under his touch. It's a miracle that he didn't empty himself inside you right then and there.

“But you—but you haven’t—” You sputter, collapsing into him as your legs give out.

“I know. It is alright..” He hums, carefully leading you inside the marui to lay you on the bed.

“Thought you were c-cleaning me u-up. Not mak-king m-more of a mess.” Your breath is relentlessly hitching as you watch him hastily remove his tewng that’s been digging into his thighs. A reminder of exactly how quickly things happened.

“You are right.” Ralak tsks, cocking a brow as he stares down at you with a predatory leer. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

Ralak situates himself between your legs, crouching over you, ensuring there’s plenty of space between him and your stomach. His cock presses between your sticky folds as his lips press against your clammy neck. He tastes the faint saltiness of the thin film of sweat on your skin as he drags his lips down your chest—between your breasts.

“Lak…” You whisper, back bowing against the bed.

You’re way too sensitive right now, like an exposed nerve. His eyes snap up and lock with yours, responding to you moaning his name. His tongue darts out, sampling a taste of the spilled milk on your breast. Then his eyes slam shut, tensed brows and scrunched nose telling you that he’s unsure of the flavour in his mouth.

Eyes widening, you’re taken aback by his actions, feelings of shyness and embarrassment creeping back in. Fisting his hair, you pull gently at his head to pry him off your chest, only for him to resist your tugs.

“You shouldn’t have done—why’d you do—” You struggle to find the right words at this moment, flustered and nervous that he’d do that.

But what leaves you even more speechless is when he opens his eyes to reveal dots for pupils, a look you only see when he’s high strung. And then he eagerly takes your nipple into his mouth, latching on and ensuring the suction is airtight. The tip of his tongue flicks at your hardened nipple a few times before he gently suckles at your breast.

A tingling sensation radiates your chest and you feel it in the pit of your stomach. Your breath catches in your throat, a little surprised by his lewd behaviour. And soon, all you can hear are the repeated, muffled gulps of your warm milk flowing down his throat.

“W-What are yo-ou d-doing, my love?” You mewl, squirming underneath him from the strange feeling. He unlatches harshly with an audible pop, leaving your pointed nipple misshapened and exposed.

“Cleaning you.” He huffs quickly as he catches his breath, diving back in to lap up the milk leaking from your other neglected breast. Your head throws back in what is undeniably pleasure now, legs tightening around his waist. You look down in a daze, watching him feast greedily, feeling his hips begin to stammer against you.

“Fuck—I didn’t know this i-is what you meant.” You’re finally calming down from your orgasm now, already feeling your body gearing up to have another. His desperation is pungent. Evident in the way his cock grinds between your soft, slippery folds, scenting your cunt with it.

He pulls off you with yet another pop, his tongue swiping his bottom lip so not to let the bead of milk dripping off of it go to waste. He’s huffing and puffing against you, trailing his wet kisses down your curved stomach as he tucks your legs back. You feel his hot breath against your thighs and your legs tremble in anticipation.

“Kalin, kalin [sweet, sweet].” He mumbles, kissing your pulsing clit. “Oeyä kalin [My sweet].”

“Oh shit.” You let loose the breathy curse when you feel his lips pucker around your over sensitive nub, and squeal when he begins to suck on it too. Your hands fly to his head, grasping at his hair to shove his face further into your cunt. He devours you with exhilaration, lapping at your leaking slit to savour your sweetness.

His cock is aching now. He’s so hard it’s painful. He can’t stop throbbing and his cock strains so hard it’s swollen. He wants to shove himself back inside you— your warmth—and hump at you until his marked you with his essence.

He can’t help but touch himself as he pleasures you. Stroking his cock with every lick of your pussy. Thrusting into his hand when he feels you throb against his tongue. He’s groaning and grunting into your cunt, urgently chasing his own release as he sucks on you for his own pleasure.

Too busy to realise that you’ve been begging him to slow down a bit. That you’re too sensitive. That you feel like you may explode if he continues.

“Ralak! I just came! F-Fuck—” You yank his head away, hurriedly rubbing at your sore pussy.

Ralak pants for air, pulling back into a standing position to reveal that he’s been fucking his hand this entire time. It’s glossy with his precum as it dribbles down his strake. He’s frantically stroking himself, staring brazenly down at your pussy—taking in how it’s flushed and swollen, glistening with his spit and your slick. It’s a delicious sight, tempting him to go in for another taste.

He’s close and you can tell, his hips are stuttering erratically and he’s groaning like a dying man. You sit up slowly, bringing yourself to your knees as you shuffle your way closer to him. Your chest is level to his cock and you cup your full breasts with both hands, pushing them together only inches away from him.

He seems a little confused, unsure of what your next move may be. Fuck, you aren’t even sure of what your next move is. But you’re going with your instinct, pinching your nipples until they begin to leak milk. His brows jump, the sight of that sends his hips stammering into his hand. With each huff and thrust sends his cock a little closer to you, until his swollen cockhead is poking at your breasts.

You shuffle a little closer, moaning softly from watching him get off like this. Then you feel his sticky cock slip in between your breasts, and his hand falls to your shoulders.

Now he’s fucking your tits in a frenzy, his leaking tip prodding at your lips. You stick your tongue out for a taste, allowing his cockhead to slip and slide against it. He’s groaning and moaning, eyes fixed in the sight beneath him. The pressure from his fat cock between your breasts only makes you leak even more, and that’s when he loses it completely.

“Oh, fuck.” He growls, thrusting hard enough to shove his cockhead into your mouth. You feel him throb violently against your tongue, his thick, hot load coating your cheeks until they're full to the brim. He pulls out as soon as he realises what he’s down, immediately reaching for your bedside bucket to spit in.

But you shake your head, glossy eyes staring up at him as you swallow his cum with a singular, loud gulp. His eyes bulge, his hands flying to cup your cheeks as he quickly searches your eyes. You simply smile, using a thumb to swipe the single bead of cum on your chin and pop it into your mouth.

Features softening, he returns the smile, chest heaving wildly as it swells with pride.

——

2K notes · View notes

wisecura · 7 months ago

Text

'Hate' Is A Strong Word

Izuku Midoriya x f!reader 5k

summary: for some reason, you've never liked Izuku Midoriya. call it bad vibes, a deep seated irritation, or just plain off-putting, you two just never connected. and even now as pro heroes you haven't uttered a single word to each other since high school. yet, you find yourself badly injured at his doorstep.

warnings: might be repetitive, gaslighting, manipulation, non-canon, dark fic, some blood, belittling, confinement, please don't read if you are sensitive to bad things happening to reader,

an: I haven't kept up with this fandom much but I still enjoy it. i've been busy with work and school. sadly, not fully proofread, but thank you for reading

You never quite took to Izuku Midoriya, even from the start.

There was something about him. A nagging feeling that buzzed in the back of your mind whenever he was near.

He was the kind of guy everyone liked—or at least, no one dared to openly dislike. Shy, awkward, but undeniably kind, Izuku was the sort who'd go out of his way to help a stranger. Always pushing for justice, always the hero in waiting, the kind of well-rounded individual you'd expect to be universally admired.

And yet, something about him set off alarms in your gut from the very first day you met. It was your first year in high school, you'd arrived at UA high, thrilled to be accepted into the hero course.

This is when you saw him.

He'd been introducing himself to other classmates, nothing different from the norm. Maybe it was the look in his eyes when they caught yours. The way he shyly moved over to greet you. Maybe it was the way he seemed to interrogate question you on your quirk, and from your understanding he kept tabs on everyone. It could've been the way his eyes seemed to trail you when you evaded his conversation, feeling odd at the line of questioning. You had no idea why every instinct tell you to keep your distance.

You did attempt friendship in those early years, especially when you noticed how easily he drew people in. Once all was settled in, he seemed to be a magnet, attracting the class in with his friendliness. Maybe that initial encounter had been a fluke? You thought that just maybe you were being overly dramatic—after all, Izuku was the epitome of harmlessness, always eager to lend a hand. No one else seemed to have an issue with him, even with his more...odd habits.

But despite your efforts, you just couldn't shake it off. Those creepy vibes you got. So you chalked it up to not meshing well. But you always watched from a distance, and continued your years making friends and overall enjoying the coursework.

Years passed, and both of you rose through the ranks to become pro heroes.

Izuku, now known universally as Deku, consistently ranked in the top five—a celebrity in the world of pro heroes. Meanwhile, you held a respectable nineteenth place, not one for popularity races, and never quite as concerned with fame as you were with making tangible changes in the world. Not that he wasn't doing his part-

Deku was a household name, his exploits and acts of heroism the stuff of daily newsfeeds. The latest articles highlighted not just his achievements but his physical transformation too—he was now a striking 6’1", his features having matured into what many would consider handsome, listing out other measurements you hadn’t bothered to read about.

Yet, reading about him, seeing his photos splashed across the media, always stirred an inexplicable twist in your stomach. You had no logical reason to feel this way, yet the discomfort was undeniable. You still didn't like the dude.

Your interactions had been minimal since high school, limited to brief exchanges during professional gatherings. You weren’t friends, not really. But he was always friends of a friend with you. It was always weird to hear about him, and you tried to never ask-to never listen in when your friends talked about him.

And, now, as you scrolled through your phone, one hand pressed against your bleeding side, the irony of the situation didn't escape you.

This part of town was supposed to be safe, but here you were. Far from home and in trouble, late at night.

You needed to find somewhere to go—someone to plug this shit up. Your manager had recently updated your contacts with a list of “reliable partners” for emergencies—pretty handy timing, considering the mess you were in now. All listed with safe houses should you need it—your managers words echoing in the back of your mind: 'you'd better not be seen by anyone from the public'.

You had been on a secret mission, something big, something not everyone could handle. But your quirk was a perfect fit—or so you thought until things went south.

The leader of the crime ring turned out to be a lot tougher than the brief said, and instead of nabbing him quietly, you got roughed up pretty bad.

Glancing at your phone, the recommended safe locations popped up. And just your luck—it had to be him.

You frowned at the screen—thumb brushing down the refresh button desperately, but no other options seemed to be loading. There had to be someone else, but why wasn’t the stupid app showing anything?

Of course. Of-fucking-course. Whatever, beggars can’t be choosers, right?

Better not to bleed out on the pavement. You were sure your manager would kill you if this wound up in the newspapers.

Gritting your teeth, you pushed through the pain, straightening up as best you could. You tried to walk confidently into the lobby of a ridiculously upscale apartment building. It was way fancier than necessary, making you feel all the more out of place.

You barely reached the counter when the man behind it did a double-take. “Miss—““—I’m here to see Izuku Midoriya, please,” you cut him off before he could delve into questions you had no energy to answer.

He looked surprised for a moment, then turned his back to you to make the call. You could hear his hushed tones, and an even softer voice through the other end of the intercom. You couldn't make out what they were saying—maybe it was the blood loss affecting your concentration.

“Top floor, Miss—““—Thanks.” You turn away quickly, unable to keep a slight wobble from your steps. You hadn’t meant to be rude. You just really needed to sit down.

You were a vision of resilience and grace as you press the elevator button, smearing the elevator door button in your own blood. The ride up feels like a century, each ding reminding you of the ticking clock against your injuries. You had time to turn back. To not face whatever was beyond the elevator doors. Did he open his home as a safe location often? What were you thinking—this was Deku—of course he did—

As the doors finally open, you're met with the minimalist, yet luxurious hallway leading to the penthouse suite—his suite.

It's been years since you've last even spoke to Izuku Midoriya, and now, under these circumstances, you're about to see him again.

Funny how fate plays its cruel games, huh?

Stepping out, you hesitate for just a moment before your survival instincts push you forward. Your fist meets the door, the knock more feeble than you intended. It's only a matter of seconds before the door swings open, revealing Izuku Midoriya in person.

He's taller, broader, and his eyes—those damn eyes—haven't changed a bit. He's definitely lost that baby face, his features much more defined, almost handsome. The sight of him makes your heart race for reasons you can't even begin to pin down before that deep voice reaches your ears.

"Shit, you look like hell," wide eyed, he blurts out. "What happened?"

You try to muster a smile, but all you manage is a grimace. "Got into a bit of trouble. Mind if I come in? Kinda bleeding out here," you quip, half-joking, but entirely serious.

He doesn't hesitate, grabbing your arm, gently but firmly, as he helps you inside. "Of course, come in. What are friends for?" he says, though you both know the term 'friends' might be a stretch, you sure as hell weren't gonna comment on it now.

Oddly enough, he doesn't press you for more details, instead guiding you to the sofa. "Let me look at that wound," he says, already moving to fetch a first aid kit and a towel. You feel somewhat guilty at your thoughts as you watch him, his movements efficient and practiced. What if you bled out onto his couch? And now that'll be the first thing on his mind when he sees it? what're you even thinking?

How often has he done this? You mind briefly flashes back to a news report you'd seen recently, of him saving a group of people from a hostage situation turned deadly. And despite your reservations about him, you can't help but feel a reluctant admiration stirring within you. That and this. He really wasn't a bad dude. Maybe a bit awkward, but who wasn't?

You raise your shirt slightly, exposing the expanse of your stomach, an audible sigh from him before his hands find their way to clean the area, surprisingly gentle.

It's a strange intimacy, one you make damn sure to ignore. In other situations you may have blushed, leading with a 'buy me drinks first' joke but you really didn't want to add to the moment.

"Do I want to ask how the other guy looks?" Izuku teases lightly, a break from his jaw tensing, a small smile playing on his lips. Despite yourself, a laugh escapes—bitter but genuine.

"Yeah, I may have gotten the short end here," you reply, meeting his gaze. There’s a warmth there that wasn’t present in your school days, a maturity that seems to fit him well. It annoys you, seeing how much he's grown into himself, into the hero everyone expected him to be. Was it jealousy? No, that couldn’t be it.

Sitting there, letting Izuku tend to your wounds, you can’t help but feel a twist in your stomach that’s not from the injury. It’s from the sheer absurdity of the situation—seeking help from someone you’ve always distrusted, yet here he is, proving to be the hero he always aimed to be. Not asking for anything in return, always helpful, always willing.

And, yes, that bugged the shit out of you. You were wrong.

"Aren't you going to ask what happened?" His eyes flick back over to you, stilling your breath. He lets out another sigh, unwrapping the bandage from his kit.

"The Gokudo Group, right?" You look away, refusing to meet his heavy gaze. He didn't seem entirely happy with the direction of the conversation—

"How do you know about that?" The question sounded silly the second it left your mouth. A top pro hero knowing about a mission so close to his residence? It'd be stranger if he hadn't heard about it. He lets out another soft chuckle, and you feel yourself blush at the way it seemed to lick up your spine.

"Let's call it a guess." As he finishes bandaging your wound, his touch lingers a moment on your side, reminding you of his closeness.

"You should rest," he suggests, his voice soft, almost nonchalant. He seems to see no issue with the idea. A man. A woman. Alone in a pent house sweet. "Stay here tonight. It's late, and you're not in any condition to go anywhere."

You want to protest, to assert your independence, but the room tilts slightly as you try to sit up straighter, his grip tightening on your waist as you let out a small painful whimper. He doesn’t seem too put off by the idea of you staying, and realistically, blood loss was indeed a bitch.

"I guess...I don't have much choice," the words tasting sour on your tongue. For a fleeting moment, Izuku's seems like he wants to say something, fighting with his inner voice, before settling on something else.

"...Of course, you're always welcome here," he assures you, his tone dripping with a sincerity that feels too thick, too heavy. He stands, pressing a button on the wall to adjust the blinds, casting the room into a dim glow. He stands illuminated in a warm glow by the lamp in the corner. Your heart continues its gymnastics, flipping in ways you can't fucking believe.

"Let me get you some water, maybe something for the pain." As he disappears into the kitchen, you try to relax against the plush cushions of his sofa, feeling much more guilty at the thoughts you'd had not even thirty minute prior. This wasn't how you imagined your evening would end, and his kindness seemed to eat away at you by the second.

Your gaze drifts around the neatly kept space, landing on small, personal touches that seem innocuously domestic. Photographs of smiling faces, trophies from his hero work, books on strategy and quirk development. It's all so…Midoriya.

When he returns, he hands you a glass of water and a pill, his smile reassuring. "This will help with the pain," he says, and you take the small tablet from him, your fingers brushing against his, the contact somewhat nerve-wracking.

"Thanks," you whisper, downing the medicine without a second thought. He watched you closely for a second, another thought on the tip of his tongue before he decides to just sit down next to you. Not close enough to warrant a side glance, but close enough that you can smell his smooth cologne, a soothing fragrance that lingers in the back of your throat. A smell that was distinct, unforgettable.

"You know," hesitating, "...I always...hoped we'd get a chance to catch up," his voice a soft murmur blending into the backdrop of the city's faint sounds filtering through the window. You would've sworn he hadn't said anything if it wasn't for your good hearing. "...I've followed your career, you know. You're doing amazing things."

His words sound like a compliment, but you can't help but think: just how closely has he been watching me? The tension in the room was so fucking awkward....

And the comment was innocent enough, so you push the feeling aside, chalking it up to paranoia. He's being nice. He's being nice.

You literally have no reason to doubt him.

Whatever. You can't shake that nag, you're fighting with yourself just to lean into the small comfort he provided, but that itch keeps coming back the more he talks. Just keep your distance, like always, and make your exit in the morning before he wakes up. Maybe send a fruit basket when you get back home as a parting 'thank you' gift.

"Yeah, well, we've both been busy, I guess," He watches you a moment, his expression unreadable before offering a gentle smile. You let out a small yawn, scooting further into the couch. Further away from his spreading legs, hoping to convey your sleepiness.

"Very busy," he agrees, as he stands to grab a blanket from a nearby closet. Thankful for the space, you breath a sigh of relief. You jump when he comes back, yet his voice is gentle, and his movements are tender, almost loving, as he drapes the blanket over you.

You notice his hands tremble slightly—a nervous energy you remember all too well from your high school days. He's nervous. And it sets you on edge even more, despite the fact that he couldn't be more welcoming to you in this moment—a pillar of comfort and support. The blanket he brought was so fuzzy and warm. Your favorite color too.

"Looks like we finally get that catch-up session, huh?" he chuckles easily. You half-expected him to retreat to his room once you were settled, but here he was, still the same Midoriya, despite looking so incredibly different. Never fully catching that hint. You manage a weary smile, feeling the weight of your eyelids, barely still able to converse.

"Yeah, it's been a while. Life as a pro hero doesn't exactly leave much free time for reunions," Izuku nods enthusiastically, sliding a bit closer to you on the sofa until you can feel the warmth radiating from his leg just inches away. You subtly scoot away, maintaining a polite distance, his eyes wide, as he enthusiastically regals your most recent mission.

"That rescue mission form last week was just spectacular, the way you dove right in, you were just perfect, and those people you saved--" He stops himself, realizing he was about to go into a whirlwind. He lets out a nervous laugh, "Sorry,"

But you give him the best smile you can muster up with the gaping wound in your side. And subtly, almost unconsciously, his leg inches even closer to yours, again. You try to dismiss it, reminding yourself of how he always a little closer with his friends—maybe this is just another subconscious thing he did?

"Thanks, Midoriya. You’ve not done too badly yourself," you reply, trying to lighten the mood with a bit of humor. "Top five, right? I always knew you’d shoot up."

He absorbs your compliment, his face lighting up from the small bit of praise you've given him. His gaze narrows in, almost studying you, as if he’s trying to memorize your every expression.

When he speaks again, there's a hint of shyness in his voice, a subtle clinginess that feels slightly misplaced. "You know, I always thought maybe we’d end up working together, you know? Side by side." His voice dips a bit at the end, his eyes are earnest, almost pleading, as they search yours for a reaction.

"That’s...a....nice thought," deliberately avoiding his gaze, though the idea of being this close to him in any capacity would be too much, too soon.

Izuku’s expression momentarily falters, resembling a dejected puppy, and he quickly tries to mask his disappointment, shifting his demeanor to regain some of his earlier lightness. “But hey, we’re here now, right? Maybe it’s fate or something,” he jokes weakly, forcing another lighthearted laugh.

The word 'fate' hangs between you, heavy and foreboding. “Maybe,” you echo, not quite sharing in his forced cheer. The conversation pauses, leaving you acutely aware of the rapid beating of your own heart in the silence that follows.

"Yeah–heh–it’s been quite the journey," he admits, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "But....enough about me. Tell me about you. How have things been...really?"

You shift under the blanket, feeling a bit unnerved by his continued presence. Why didn't he just go to bed? You hadn't even talked much about him in the first place. Was he fishing for something?

"Busy, eventful, and endlessly tiring," you answer truthfully, hoping your frankness might send a subtle hint, topping it off with another yawn.

He nods, mouth quirking up in a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "I can imagine. It must be hard, always being on the move—never able to find time for yourself, never able to catch up. Always the playing the 'hero'."

The way he says 'hero'—with a trace of something like displeasure—makes you pause, almost surprised. "...Well, someone's gotta do it, right?"

"Right, right," Izuku agrees, though his voice trails off, leaving a lingering question in the air. He seems to gather his thoughts, his eyes meeting yours.

"You know, I've always wondered..." his tone shifts slightly, becoming more contemplative, "why we never got along better. I mean, we were always in the same circles, kind of."

You feel a slight tightening in your chest as the topic veers dangerously close to the unease you've always felt around him. "Yeah, I guess we just had different…interests," you hedge, trying to keep the conversation light and steer away from deeper waters that you’d prefer not to navigate.

How exactly could you explain to him that you found him incredibly fucking creepy until now? And even now.....

Izuku's response is slow, thoughtful. "Maybe,"

He concedes, his tone reflecting a tinge of dissatisfaction, voice more probing and less subtle than you've ever heard it before. "But I've always respected you, you know? Always thought highly of your abilities."

"Thanks, Midoriya. That means a lot," you reply, not sure how to respond, not used to the praises from someone like him.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... I've always wanted to be...closer. To understand you better. I felt like we never really got the chance."

His words hang in the air, and you're hit by the raw honesty in his voice—an honesty that's bordering on confrontation or confession—you aren't sure. You scramble for a diplomatic response, your mind racing. You didn't want to upset him here, but you sure as hell weren't looking to become best buds.

"Midoriya, it’s not that we didn't get a chance. We just...didn’t.....vibe that way. It happens."

"But why?" His frustration is more evident this time, his voice tense, losing that more playful tone. "I’ve seen how you are with others—laughing, sharing. I just don't get why I never got that side of you."

"It’s nothing personal, Midoriya. I’ve always been more introverted....Maybe our timing was just....off or something."

But he just can't seem to let this go. He's always liked you, but you've always seemed to avoid him. He's never been able to figure it out.

"...I mean, it's not like I haven't tried, right?" he starts again, his tone becoming harsher, a drastic shift from his usual soft charisma. His fingers tap rhythmically against his knee, a clear sign of his restlessness. "I always asked about you, you know. Whenever I ran into someone who knew you, I made sure to find out how you were doing." The revelation sends a chill down your spine.

This could have been sweet—checking in on a friend—but his words sound creepier, like he was stalking you or something, and his intense gaze makes you recoil slightly.

"I just...I've always liked you. A lot, actually," he continues, his tone bordering on accusatory. "And I don't think you ever noticed. Or maybe you did and just didn't care."

"That’s…that's a lot to take in," you respond cautiously, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Yeah, well, it's been a lot for me too, watching from the sidelines. Always the hero everyone loves, except for the one person I actually wanted to impress," his voice rising slightly with frustration.

He continues rambling, each sentence more unsettling than the last. "I've kept tabs on you. I know it might sound weird, but I had to know. I thought if I knew more about what you liked, what you did, maybe I could find a way to be part of that." His confession sends a cold shiver down your spine.

"Isn't that just ridiculous?" he laughs, the sound hollow—bitter, filling the increasingly claustrophobic room. His eyes become distant and slightly frantic. He couldn’t stop himself.

"Midoriya, I think you’re reading too much into this—” you start, trying to defuse the tension, but he cuts you off. "No, I don't think so. I think you've always known how I felt. And you used it against me. Kept me at arm's length on purpose," he accuses, his voice turning harsh.

Witnessing Izuku transform from the awkward, 'lovable' hero you once knew into this intense, confirmed everything that nagged in the back of your head before. An anger issue? Ego problems?

"Everyone else always sees the best in me. Why couldn’t you? What made you so different?" he demands, his voice laden with a toxic mix of longing and bitterness. Finding yourself speechless, the situation spirals beyond your control. "Midoriya, please, this isn’t healthy. We should—”

"Healthy?" scoffing. "What do you know about healthy? You've barely even looked at me all these years. And now, you show up only when you need something? That's a bit contradictory, don't you think?"

The realization that you are alone with him, caught in this escalating situation, keeps you mind spiraling into a semi state of panic. Your sense heighted—fight or flight.

"You know, it's always been more than just platonic for me," his gaze cutting through the dimly lit room, locking onto you with an unsettling earnestness. He too close, too close, "I've cared about you in ways I probably shouldn't have. And I've waited...waited for you to see that."

"Midoriya, maybe we can talk about this tomorrow? It's been a long day, and I really think I should head home and rest," you suggest, reaching for your phone to call an Uber.

"You said you'd stay the night," he reminds you, snatching the phone quickly from your hands. "Are you really going to go back on your word now? After I've opened my home to you, treated your wounds?"

Caught off guard by his overt pushiness and blatant aggression, you stammer, "Hey—Midoriya, I didn't mean—"

"No, you never mean to, do you?" he cuts in, his tone increasingly harsh. "You come here, into my home, ask for my help, reject my friendship—once again, and now you want to leave just like that? It’s always the same with you. You take what you need and then you're gone."

"That's not fair, Midoriya. I appreciate everything you've done tonight, but I'm really not feeling well, and this conversation is a lot to process," you explain, trying to maintain your composure under his scrutinizing gaze.

Izuku's tone shifts, blending accusation with a hint of hurt, his face morphing into that lovable sad expression he wore on occasion. Much like a kicked puppy. "That isn't right. I thought you were a good person. I'm just trying to understand your problem with me. What's wrong with that?"

You take a deep breath, trying to center yourself amidst the emotional whirlwind he's creating. "Midoriya, trying to understand each other isn't the problem," you begin cautiously, "but the way you're going about it—it's overwhelming. It feels like you're not just asking for understanding—you're demanding a specific response from me, one that I'm not prepared to give."

His brow furrows, and his stance becomes defensive. "So, you're saying I'm overwhelming you? I'm some evil guy? Me? A top pro hero? After all these years of keeping my distance, the moment I try to be honest about my feelings, I'm suddenly too much?"

"No, that's not what I mean, Midoriya—please—"

Izuku’s question slices through the tense air, unexpected and jarring. “Do you have a boyfriend?” His tone holds an edge of possessiveness that makes you uneasy. The query, seemingly out of nowhere, is clearly aimed at gauging your 'availability'—challenging it.

“No, but that’s not the point,” but Izuku scoots in closer, his larger frame hovering over your laid back one. Yes, he was much bigger than he was in high school. And yes his broad shoulders stood out 3 inches past your own. You couldn't stop your panicked breathing, the situation too unbelievable.

As Izuku inches closer, his large frame overshadows you, physically cornering you against the back of the sofa. The space feels oppressively small, his presence suffocating. His voice carries a chilling mix of sweetness and venom that you've never heard before, unsettlingly different from the hero you thought you knew.

“So, let’s get this straight....again.,” you avoid his gaze, near impossible from how close he is, “You’ve never had time for me, always brushed off my attempts to be close, and now here you are, in my home, accepting my help after all these years. And you think you can just leave after that, like nothing happened?”

You feel a bit embarrassed when he puts it like that.

“Izuku, I just came here because I needed help, I never meant to—”

“But that’s just it, isn’t it? You needed help, and I was convenient for you,” he cuts you off, his voice soft but laced with a sharp edge. “Isn’t it funny how after all these years of avoiding me, suddenly I’m the one you run to when you’re vulnerable? Does that seem fair to you?”

“I’ve always cared about you, more than you know,” his voice lowering to a whisper. “I’ve watched you from afar, always hoping you’d look back. But you didn’t. And now here you are, finally seeing me, but only because you need something. Don’t you owe it to me to stay? After everything?”

His question hangs heavily in the air, charged with expectations you never consented to. Flustered and trying to maintain some sense of normalcy, you start to respond. “I-I’m sorry, Midoriya—”“—Izuku. Please, after all this time, don't you think you could call me by my first name? It’s like you’re still trying to keep me at arm’s length, even now,” The hurt very clear in his voice.

As you struggle to find the right words, trying to navigate the complex emotional minefield he specifically laid out, his next action catches you completely off guard. Without waiting for your consent, he suddenly shoots up, his arms scooping you up in a princess-style carry, far too easily, but expected from a bulky pro hero. The suddenness leaves you flabbergasted and flushing bright red.

"I-Izuku," you stammer, your voice tinged with shock and a hint of protest. "Ah, much better," he responds with a pleased smile. The smile he gives you is something else—wide and triumphant, as he carries you to another room.

The large room he brings you into is softly lit, the bed neatly made. You noticed a vanity on the side wall, feminine products lining the small shelf—eerily similar to the products you have in your cabinet at home. The room was set to your exact style, items you had at home—in your online wish list—were all here.

He sets you down gently on the bed, and the reality of the situation sinks in deeper. He observes you for a moment, a mocking smile playing at the corners of his mouth, as if amused by your discomfort. As if he's observing a cute puppy, learning to walk on its own.

"Time for bed. I'll be back tomorrow." He turns to leave, and you reach out for him. "Izuku, wait—" voice laden with a plea for some semblance of normalcy—some answer to the questions you refused to voice, the room you were actively refusing to acknowledge.

"What's wrong?" he interjects with a grin, his tone cooing, demeaning, belittling. "You’re not going to ask me to tuck you in or stay the night, are you?" You could hear the underlying challenge. The jest sent to provoke something from you. "No, that’s not—I just think we need to talk about tonight," You're voice stead, yet you're on the brink of tears, the fear creeping up the back of your neck. A pro hero, a pro hero, he's a pro hero—

Izuku's face hardens at your words, his posture stiffening as he sits on the edge of the bed. "Talk? We’ve been talking all night. You said you wanted rest right?" he retorts defensively. "You’re safe here, aren’t you? I’m taking care of you, after all. What’s there to complain about?"

You know something isn’t right, but his aggressive pushback and the veiled mockery in his tone make you second-guess your instincts to speak up.

"Yeah, I...Thank you...Izuku," you find yourself saying, the words heavy on your tongue. The unease churns in your stomach, but the mean look in his eyes silences the protests forming in your mind. You lie back on the bed, covering yourself quickly, still in your street attire.

Izuku nods, seemingly satisfied with your subdued response. "See? That’s better. Just relax, I’ve got everything under control," he says, his tone soothing yet laced with a possessiveness that doesn’t escape you.

As he turns off the light and exits the room, leaving you in the dim glow of the nightlight, you're left to grapple with the unsettling blend of guilt and apprehension, too nervous now to challenge the dynamic he’s forcefully set.

Would you be allowed to leave tomorrow?

come home

#male yandere #yandere #yandere midoriya #yandere izuku midoriya #izuku midoriya #manipulative #mha x reader #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #kidnapping k1nk #dead dove do not eat #creepy behavior #nonproofread #fanfiction #yandere izuku x reader #yandere izuku

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checosbluespring · 1 year ago

Text

secrets we keep (pt1) → mv1

max verstappen x perez!fem reader

genre: one night stand, teammates sister, pregnancy

cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (male receiving), p in v, slight spit play, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy, pls let me know if i am forgetting anything

word count: 3.1k

song: too sweet - hozier

sidenote: hi everyone! finally a new fic is here and it's a max one! this is going to be a two parter, so keep an eye out for the next one! please let me know if y'all have any ideas or requests for a fic (I write for all drivers), also not beta read. hope you all enjoy <3

♡♡♡♡

The roars of the crowd were loud as Max crossed the finish line, followed closely by Sergio. For a second there you had thought your brother would overtake the world champion, but nonetheless he fought hard and gave the team what they wanted, a 1-2 finish.

It wasn’t often you got to go to your brother's races, maybe only a handful a year but you were lucky to be able to get the time off to join your niece and nephews for the Japanese Grand Prix. Sergio would topple over if he knew you had the hots for his teammate. Every time you have met with Max, it’s been very cordial. Polite hellos, asking how life in Mexico is, what you have been up to since he last saw you.

A part of you wondered why he was so timid with you. Was it because of Sergio? Being the baby of the family left him feeling protective of you, but you don’t think that would affect how Max interacted with you. I mean you barely saw him.

Watching the pair on the podium set tears in your eyes. You were extremely proud of your big brother and his teammate.

Your dad absolutely adored max and had invited him to join us for a celebratory dinner after the race. Which to your surprise he happily accepted.

You were staying at the same hotel that both the bulls were at, so reconnecting for dinner would not be difficult. After the race you decided to head back to freshen up and change your clothes into something a little more fancy. At the race you were wearing a white tennis skirt with a red bull polo tucked in. For dinner you decided to wear a black over the shoulder dress that fit you perfectly. Finally ready you walk down and see that only Max is waiting in the lobby. Your stomach turns at the thought of being alone with him.

Picking his head up from looking down at his phone he notices you walking toward him and waves shyly. “Hi y/n, looks like it’s only us ready” he said in a tiny voice. You are always so used to him being outspoken it kinda scares you a little. “hi maxie, you know how my family is with time management, they should be down here soon” you said with a laugh, not even acknowledging the nickname that slipped from your mouth.

A sudden tinge of pink washes over Max’s cheeks and you feel heat radiating up your neck. Act cool, you keep telling yourself but you are so nervous. Max was all you ever wanted in a guy. Handsome, sweet, confident, the list could go on. You knew deep down though your worlds would never clash well. You lived in Mexico with your parents - working as a teacher. Max lived in Monaco and raced for one of the best teams in formula one history, surrounded by models throwing themselves at him. You couldn’t blame them, you would do the same, if you thought you ever had a chance.

“No worries, I always have to wait for Checo to come to our team meetings” he laughed. “I bet, if there’s one thing my brother isn’t know for it’s being on time, thank you for coming to dinner with us though, we really appreciate it, I know my dad and brother do a lot”

With a smirk on his face something shifts “oh just your dad and brother, not you?”. You feel the breath knocked out of your lungs, just as you are about to open your mouth to respond, tiny roars make notice in the room and you almost fall at your nephew running to you, so you could pick him up. Silently you thank your nephew for the interruption.

Dinner goes smoothly. You sat at the opposite end of the table with the kids, while your brother, dad, and max were deep in conversation. You swore that Max kept looking at you though, sneaking glances.

As the check gets situated, all of you make your way out onto the busy streets of Japan. You hear your brother speak up “Y/N are you gonna come get ice cream with us” and while you were deeply contemplating it, you decided to pass up the offer and head back to the hotel.

“No I think I'm gonna head back to the hotel and pack, I want to take the kids to get breakfast tomorrow morning before we leave” you say.

“no puedes caminar solo es tarde en la noche” (you can't walk alone, it's late at night) your brother worries.

“Sergio, I'm fine, it's not that far from the hotel, I'll grab a taxi” before he could protest, Max jumped in.

“I can take a taxi back with y/n, I'm super tired after the race, and I'll make sure she makes it to her hotel room”

“Are you sure Max?” Sergio asks.

“Yes I'm sure, it was a lovely evening, thank you for inviting me”

Your family bids their farewells and walks away, leaving just the two of you waiting for a taxi. As you guys are picked up, you both don't say a word in the car, sitting in an uncomfortable silence. Max pays the driver and you thank him quietly. Making your way up to the floor where both of your rooms are, you stop at his first. “Thank you for bringing me back Max, I appreciate it”

“Of course it's no problem, hey I'm actually not really that tired, do you wanna play Fifa or watch a movie?” he asks. Something deep down is telling you to decline. Spending time with him is just going to dig you deeper in a hole with how you feel about him, nonetheless, you can't let this opportunity go and accept this offer.

Walking in you notice the room is ten times bigger than yours, with a balcony and jacuzzi tub in the middle of the bathroom. Max must notice your awe because he says “I don't know why they give us such big rooms, we are hardly ever even in here”

“Haha it's nice for Checo because the kids get to play around”

“You are really close with them, aren't you?”

“They are practically my own, when their mom is out doing business I usually keep them, I also help homeschool them”

“Well that's very sweet of you” he says while taking a seat on the bed, while motioning you to do the same.

“Do you want something to drink” he offers

“No I'm okay” you politely decline. You still can't believe this, you are in Max Verstappen's room all alone.

“Okay let's put on a movie! What are you up for, should we do action” you sense a sudden shift in his mood, you can't quite place it, maybe excitement. You believe he can probably sense that you are nervous. The mention of action makes your ears perk up.“Can we please watch fast and the furious, I am on a mission to have all my friends watch it”

Max doesn't protest, just laughs quietly and nods, setting the movie in place. You make yourself comfortable and take off your big hoop earrings and heels- even though they werent big by any means they still hurt you. Once you are back in bed with him, you notice him looking at you.

“Is there something on my face?” You laugh

“No i just guess I never noticed how different but similar you look from checo”

“Really? How so?” You question

“Well for one, you are very pretty, but you have the same freckles that Checo does covering your cheeks and nose” Max’s comment has you feeling shy, you know you must be sporting a prominent blush across your face and neck.

“well thank you Max, it's funny because growing up, i never had freckles, but i think being out in the sun for races and the kids karting tournaments have really brought them to surface”

“That's interesting, I admire how close to your family you are, something I wish I had” he says so quietly you almost miss it. You don't know what possesses you to do this but you place your hand over his and say “you are always welcome in this family max, we all love you, and no matter where sergio goes next year- you will always be welcomed with open arms”

He stares at you with a blank face- unable to tell what he's thinking you begin to think that was the wrong thing to say when suddenly he leans down a plants a gentle kiss over your lips. You gasp at the touch. Max pulls back with wide eyes and says “shit I shouldn't have done that, Checo will kill me if he found out”. Instead of agreeing with him, you keep your hand held tightly over his and whisper “he doesn't have to know”. That's all it seems to take for max to lean back in and start kissing you.

You grab the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric in your hands. His palm cups your jaw, slowly deepening the kiss. Once his tongue makes his way in, you let out a quiet moan.

Grabbing your hips, Max shifts your position so that you are laying on the bed while he towers over you. “You are so pretty y/n, been wanting to do this forever” he says while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. While you want to pour your heart out, your nerves stop you and all you can do is nod and say “want you so bad max”.

He continues to kiss you, tracing his mouth up and down your neck and along the junction between your shoulder and neck placing feather-like kisses. There’s nothing more that you want then for him to leave a big bruise plastered for everyone to see but you knew that wasn’t possible.

You grab his head and place your lips back on his. Moving his hand to your hair he grips it tightly, keeping you in his control. Slowly he rocks his hips down to meet yours, creating a union of moans to spill from the both of you. This must be the breaking point for max because he stops to take off his shirt and grabs your dress to do the same. Not before asking “is this okay”.

“Of course it’s okay, I want all of you” you whisper out. His pants also come off in the process. Both of you left in your underwear. You could feel yourself soaked through your panties. Max moves his hand so that his thumb is slowly running along your slit through the fabric. A moan is pushed out of you with a quiet plea of more.

Growing impatient you tug the straps of your bra down your shoulders exposing your breasts to him. This catches his attention because Max is on them immediately. Sucking and kissing them, basically worshiping them. “Fuck, these tits are perfect. They were practically popping out of your dress earlier, wanted to take you to the bathroom at the restaurant and just suck on them for hours”

You would have never guessed Max to be into dirty talk but it’s a pleasant surprise. “I want you in me Max, please, I’ve been waiting for this”

“How can I deny such a pretty girl? '' With that being said, Max gets up and walks to his bag to pull out what seems to be a condom. While he’s doing that, you shimmy your underwear down your legs and throw it somewhere in the room. Before he approaches the bed, Max takes his underwear off and you see his cock spring free. Your mouth instantly waters at the sight. He’s big, just like you thought he would be. Pale and veiny. Pink and wet at the tip.

You wanted him in you but not before you got a taste of him. You motion him up towards your mouth, so that his legs are on both sides of your shoulders. “I want to taste you, can I Max?” You said hoping your voice and eyes truly show the desire you have burning for him.

“Go ahead sweetie, suck me off”

That’s all you needed to hear before taking the tip in your mouth, lightly sucking. Max groans at the sensation and places a hand behind your head for support. Popping yourself off the tip, you lick a long strip under his shaft, following the prominent vein that lies there. You place feather-like kisses on the head hoping to tease him. As you look up at him, you see his mouth slightly agape, eyes stuck on you. “Don't tease me baby, c'mon”.

You start to bob your head, up and down, making sure you move your tongue back and forth. You palm at his balls and hear a hiss, thinking he must be sensitive.

“Fuck, you suck me off so good, this mouth was made for me, wasn't it y/n”

You whimper at the words and try to push yourself further down his cock. Grabbing your head, he pulls you off and says “I need to get in you”.

You nod your head fast and practically beg “please Max, please want you in me”.

As he positioned himself between your legs, he's looking directly at your core, you start to feel a bit insecure and try to close your legs, but he uses both his to keep them open. “You have such a pretty pussy, want to absolutely devour it” what he does next has you almost combust. He hovers his mouth over your core and lets a string of spit come done to coat you. Taking his index and middle finger he holds you open and lets another drop of spit fall on you. You are moaning so loud, you place your hand over your mouth to try and keep yourself quiet.

Max places two fingers in you while simultaneously rubbing slow circles over your clit. You are desperate for him to get in you. “Max I'm good, you can get in me”.

That's all he needs to hear before he puts his condom on and sinks into you. The burn is unlike anything you have felt before. You were definitely not used to his size but the stretch was addicting. As he builds up pace, you place your hands over his back, your fingernails gripping onto his shoulders, it feels so so good. “Faster” you whisper. Max listens. You could already feel the coil in your stomach about to snap, what pushes you over the edge is Max’s dirty talk. “You wrap around me so good, best pussy I've ever had, what would people think if they saw my roommate's sister coming all over my cock” you can't respond, all you can do is moan.

Finally catching your breath you say “you feel so good Max, you are gonna make me cum” and you tuck your head into his neck licking a fat stripe near his Adams apple. “I'm gonna come too, come with me y/n”.

The next couple of minutes go by in a blur, you feel yourself clenching on his cock, cumming while he pumps in and out of you with his hand rubbing at your clit. He kisses you hard as he groans into your mouth. “Fuck that was good” he states and all you can do is nod.

Max takes off his condom, and goes to the bathroom, returning in his underwear, with a warm washcloth. You feel embarrassed but you let him clean you up. You are left undressed so you ask if he could hand you your dress. The room is filled with an awkward tension. Max can tell because he lays down on the bed and pats it for you to lay with him.

You feel like you should decline and be on your way, not wanting to overstay your welcome. But you genuinely don't think this will ever happen again and want to cherish what little time you have in the same proximity. You lay with your head on his chest and his arm thrown over you with the tv playing in the background. Time passes quickly and within 30 minutes you hear soft snores coming out of max. You take this as your cue to leave. You slip yourself away and gather your belongings. Taking one last glance at him you smile and quietly make your way out of the room.

You don't have a lot of time to reflect once you get back to your room because you have to shower, and pack for your flight in the morning. You don't know if you and Max will ever reconnect like that, but you are grateful for the time you shared.

You don't see or hear from Max before you leave Japan, but maybe it's for the best. Your brother didn't expect anything and you are determined to keep it that way.

The first couple of weeks back in Mexico were rough, slowly recovering from your trip. Around 6 weeks after being home and two more grand prix taking place, you feel sick, like a stomach bug has really knocked you down. It was so bad that you weren't able to go to the Miami gp like you wanted.

Deciding it has been lingering for far too long you decide to go to the doctor. The first thing they ask you is if it's possible if you are pregnant. Your first thought is no, but you remember you and Max had hooked up around two months ago. You feel a pit in your stomach and your heart rate speeds up. You couldn't be right, he wore a condom, and you hadn't had sex for like a year prior to that.

After you take your pee test, you have never been more scared or felt more alone. You want your mom here. After what felt like an eternity, the doctor came in with a smile and sat down. “Congratulations y/n you are pregnant”. The world came to a stand still and all you can do is cry.

Because how in the hell are you going to tell your brother you are pregnant with his teammate's baby. How are you going to tell Max that you are pregnant?

Simple. You won't.

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doriana-gray-games · 30 days ago

Text

A lil thank you 💖

Someone just liked the post of when we had that name poll for Mrs H’s cat and it got me thinking—

Just how much you guys, the audience and beta readers and the like, have affected the game:

- There would have been a hell of a lot less romance! 🤣 (I’m glad it’s there though! I really am, but I just don’t think I felt it was commonly done in IFs to lean this heavy on the romance part of it until y’all showed interest in it).

- The cat wouldn’t have existed.

- There would have been no simp H!

- There would have been no soft teasing L route! (At first there was only straight up bickering/arguing or friendly. I thought I had given the option to be teasing but someone set me straight that I had not! 😂 The hardest thing with these games is you can intend to do something and then you completely miss that you haven’t!)

- L would have been a lot nicer in ch5… (both good and bad…)

- The list goes on and on—

Even this whole game that started as a little interactive writing exercise, and I posted on the forums just to get some feedback on how to improve, it wouldn’t still be here if it weren’t for you all 🌸💖✨

So thank you,

I’m glad to be here. I’m glad y’all still are. And here’s to all the more Sherlock adventures—starting with the ball (soon)! 🥰

Take care, stay safe, happy pride and happy June!

~ Doriana

#aaoth

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daydreams-after-dark · 8 months ago

Text

Free Use Jail Cell, Part 7

MDNI // 18+ content

full master list for additional installments

Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader

Premise: you're arrested and held for 24 hours by 8 police officers at the local police station / reader has her fantasy play out.

Word Count: 6.7k approx (part 6)

Chapter Summary: It's y/n's final encounter with all 8 members.

A/n: Hi Hi!!! So… here is the final installment of the series. As I anticipated, it was exhausting to write for so many participants, and my vocabulary started to dry up towards the end. But I am really pleased with how it played out. It was difficult to give everyone equal attention, so I hope I haven’t left anyone out too much (or at all! Fuck! Imagine forgetting to include a member entirely?)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the following 6k + words of smut.

CW under the cut

CW: group sex, 8 guys x 1 fem, oral sex (m and f rec), spanking, fake knife play, masturbation, squirting, multiple orgasms, double pen (2 holes), anal sex, cum eating, name calling (baby girl, good girl, whore, etc), creampies, angst. Please let me know if I have forgotten anything significant and I will add to the CW.

>>>>>

You’re given yet another oversized button down shirt to wear, and instructed to wait in the Chief’s office to rest and wait for something to eat.

You really have lost track of time. It’s definitely daylight outside, but whether it’s late morning or early afternoon, you can't tell.

The creak of the door interrupts your thoughts, and you turn to find Felix returning with a tray of sandwiches and a big jug of water.

“Hungry?” He says cheerfully, like he hadn’t just fucked your brains out, and sets the tray down on the coffee table, like he hadn’t just double penetrated you on it with Chief Chan less than an hour ago.

You take a sandwich, scoffing it down quickly, and reach for a second piece. You’re absolutely famished.

Felix watches you and chuckles, then fetches his camera from the drawer and returns to sit beside you.

“Want to see what I captured?” He asks eagerly.

You stop chewing and look at him uncertainly.

“They’re really beautiful.” He adds.

You hesitate, then slowly nod. “Sure.”

“Great. So many pretty bruises and marks.” he coos. “Look.” He flicks to the cut on your neck. A small, red nick from Jeongin. There’s a flicker of an ache between your legs.

“Then,” His breath shakes as he takes in the next photo. It’s of your sore, red ass, and your puffy, swollen pussy lips. You whimper ever so slightly at the image. You look so used, so utterly ruined.

Then Felix shows you your bruised nipple.

You swallow your mouth full of food and bite your lower lip. Fuck, these photos stir up the desire, the need, to be fucked hard, rough, and like your’re nothing but a toy.

“You like that, huh?” Felix notices the effect the photographs are having on you. “You’ll get a copy of these, don’t worry.”

“I will?” You squeak and imagine future you laying on your bed masturbating with photos in hand.

“Of course.” He laughs kindly, and pops the camera down on the table and pours you a big glass of water. “Here. Drink this. You’ve got a big session shortly.”

“Do you do many gang bangs?” You ask casually, taking the glass and gulping down half of it in one go.

“Not often, no.” He admits, rubbing his hands nervously.

“Oh!” You blush. God, you really are one of a kind.

“I mean, it has happened, you’re not the only one or anything, don’t worry.” He scrunches his nose up in thought. “Usually, the client wants either several one on one interactions, or maybe up to three of our guys.”

You suck in your lower lip worriedly.

“I promise we’re experienced in a gang bang, or… running a train…whatever you wanna call it. It’s not going to be a clumsy, fumbling mess.” He reassures you.

With that you burst out laughing, relaxing a little. “A clumsy, fumbling mess?”

“Hey!” He laughs too. “You’re going to lose count of how many times we make you come.”

“I don’t doubt you for a second, Officer.” You wink.

>>>>>

Felix stays with you until it’s time to go, and you’re told that the final session will take place in the open office area where the officer's desks are located.

“They’ve added a few bits and pieces to make things more comfortable.” Felix mentions as you both walk down the hall.

You’re taken to the open office area where all the officer’s desks are, but there is also now a tatty couch at the end of the room and a random mattress in the middle of the floor.

Everyone’s waiting for you. The officers are all sitting at their desks, and Detective Minho and Chief Chan sit on the couch.

Most look hungry, a couple angry, especially Minho, and Han looks like he’s trying to contain his excitement. You don’t dare look at Jeongin.

Felix leaves your side to take his seat, leaving you standing in front of an unoccupied desk. You suddenly feel shy, your eyes fixed to the mattress on the floor.

“Strip for us, babygirl.” The Chief instructs.

You suck in an anxious breath as you bring your fingertips to the top button of the shirt, and you bravely look up at each of the eight men. Their eyes are glued on you, and you realize this is going to be your last encounter with them.

Determined to not let nerves get in the way, you decide you want to make the most of this, and put on a bit of a show for them. They pleased you so well, why not let them know just how much?

Your gaze turns seductive as you perch yourself on the edge of the desk and slowly unbutton the shirt, revealing the skin between your breasts, then dropping the garment off your shoulders and onto the desk.

Gasps of “fucks!” echo around the room and you smile inwardly.

“Play with yourself. Spread your legs.” Chan says with a strained voice.

Resting your left leg on the swivel chair in front of you, you open your thighs for the men.

“Wider.” The Chief barks.

You suck in your lower lip, plant your other foot on the desk and spread yourself wide open, displaying your cunt for the whole room to see.

“Play with yourself.” Another instruction.

You begin by squeezing a breast and rocking your hips. You pinch your nipple, then pop your finger in your mouth. Swirling your tongue around your digit to get it nice and wet, then bring it back to your nipple, tweaking it between your thumb and forefinger.

Han palms his crotch, and Changbin’s lips are slightly parted as he concentrates on what you’re doing to yourself. You watch him gulp as you coat your fingers with saliva again and bring them between your legs. You sigh as you drag your fingers through your folds, and rub circles on your clit.

Your cheeks flush as your body is filled with heat, and your cunt aches for more. Spreading your fingers in a V shape, you spread your lips to expose your entrance. It’s leaking already, so you use it to coat your outer lips and clit.

A whimper leaves your lips when you slip a finger inside yourself. Everyone watches in awe as you slip in a second, pushing all the way in so you can use the palm of your hand to grind against your clit.

You curl your fingers, digging into that spongy spot, and you become wetter than ever. The sounds of your soaking pussy that fill the room can only be described as squelching. Your eyes flutter closed as you surrender to the pleasure, your core tightening more with every scrape against your g-spot. You’re not certain what each of the men are doing, but you’re sure you saw a few with their cocks out, stroking them, preparing for what they’re going to do to you.

Your breath quickens with every moment that passes, until you’re panting for release, your chest heaving and flushed. The tension in your core is about to snap.

You rock your hips, grinding on your hand, chasing your climax, and opening your legs as wide as they can possibly go, so that every single one of the men can see your cunt sucking and gripping on your fingers.

You’re so close you cry out desperately with the need for release. Your eyes squeeze tightly closed, your thighs tremble then shake uncontrollably. It’s happening. You’re coming. Your walls grip your fingers, squeezing tight like a vice, then start pulsing around them. You keep finger fucking yourself frantically, as clear liquid spurts out of you, splashing your hand and trickling on the floor.

You throw your head back, panting, trying to catch your breath, while continuing to fuck yourself more gently, easing yourself back to earth. You slip your fingers out and rub a few lazy circles around your lips and clit as your heart rate comes down.

Eventually, you open your eyes to a still and silent room. They are all staring at you.

Changbin is the first to do anything. He stands and walks over to you, Felix on his heels. They come up to either side of you. “That was the sexiest thing we’ve ever seen.” Whispers Changbin in your ear. “Now we need to play with you. You got us all so hard.”

He plants a hot wet kiss on your neck while his hand finds your breast and squeezes it. Felix turns your head towards him. “Perfectly pretty.” he sighs and takes you in a feral tongue kiss. His hand slides down the front of your body to your pussy and slides two fingers inside your heat, gently pumping them in and out of you.

When you break the kiss, Changbin gently turns your chin so he can kiss you, his hand immediately finding your breast again. You moan into his mouth as they play with your body, making you melt. You close your eyes, focusing on how sensual they are being, when you feel two more hands on your inner thighs, pushing them wide. A wet mouth presses up against your core and an eager tongue explores your folds.

You look down and gasp, as the person you least expected is eating you out like a starved man. Seungmin. You moan as you watch him lap at your pussy, wrapping his mouth around your clit and humming. Then taking his tongue to your entrance and pushing it inside you.

“Oh God… Fuck!” you choke when he licks a long stripe back up to your clit.

Felix and Changbin’s hands and mouths are still everywhere, all over your body. Felix is latched onto a nipple and Changbin is sucking love bites along your collarbone.

You rock and squirm in their hold, as Seungmin threatens to rip an orgasm from you. But they hold you firm, forcing you to take everything.

You’re getting close, and Seungmin knows it, so he stops entirely and stands up. You furrow your brow and whine in protest, but he smirks at how pathetic you’re being.

“I’m first.” He announces to everyone.

“Yah! I haven’t had her in ages. It’s my turn.” Changbin protests, but Seungmin has already tugged you away and is bending you over a different desk. He slaps you, hard, on your sore ass, making you cry out, then with one hand wrapped around your hair for leverage, he sinks into you.

He doesn’t give you any time to adjust before he’s slamming himself into you at a barbaric pace.

“I think everyone is treating you too nice, Princess. Someone needs to remind you just what you signed up for.” He digs his fingers into your hips, while with the other hand yanks you by your hair so your back is curved. The angle causes his cock to bash into your cervix cruelly, and you sob. But he doesn’t stop. Harder. Harder, he fucks into you, teaching you a lesson. Reminding you not to get too comfortable here.

“Time to choke on a cock while I rail you.” He snarls as Han comes to sit on the desk.

“Baby. I need your pretty mouth around me.” Han says in a deep, almost bedroom, voice.

Seungmin doesn’t even try to cooperate or slow down, he just digs both hands into your hips, and fucks you like he’s an animal, while you wrap a hand around Han’s cock and try to sink your mouth over it. The man’s cock is beautiful, and delicious, and you moan around it as you try to take all of him in.

You’re not able to go slow, or take your time, as with every savage thrust from Seungmin forces you down Han’s cock in an uncontrolled way.

But Han seems to like it like that. Every time you gag, he groans and pushes his hips up a little. “That’s it baby, a little more. A little more and I’ll be completely inside you.”

You prepare yourself to take the rest, but Seungmin grabs the back of your head and forces you down the rest of the way. The choking, gurgling sound is obscene. The two men love it. So much so, that Han blows his load straight down your throat, and Seungmin coats your inner walls, causing you to come unexpectedly.

Shaking, you lift off Han’s cock, and he leans down to kiss you sloppily. “Thank you.” he whispers.

There’s no thank you from Seungmin when he pulls out. Just him spreading your ass cheeks and calling you a slut when his cum oozes out and dribbles down the back of your thigh.

As your breath begins to return to normal your eyes catch Jeongin. He’s now sitting leaning back on the couch, faux knife in hand and an unhinged look in his eye. He licks the blade and arches his eyebrow, waiting for you.

“You think I’m mean?” Whispers Seungmin in your ear. “You need to go fuck him now.” He nods his head towards Jeongin and slaps you on the ass again.

As you walk towards the crazed officer, cum still dripping out of you, you glance around the room. Everyone is naked now, except for Jeongin and Minho. Your gaze lingers on the Detective, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. You can’t read his expression either, but you don’t have time to dwell on that. Jeongin has he dick out ready.

“How do you want me, Officer?” You say coyly, standing in front of him.

“Turn around. Straddle me. I want everyone to see me buried inside you.”

You do as he says, placing a foot on either side of him and slowly impaling yourself on his length. The fake knife immediately comes to your throat and you feel a thrill course through your body.

“Lean back and fuck me.” He whispers. You rest your back on his chest and slowly grind on his cock, as Seungmin’s cum and your juices gather at the base. This position drags him against your insides deliciously, and the way he grinds back makes you bite your lip and moan.

He reaches around and drags the tip of the blade over your tits then down your stomach. You pretend the blade is real, imagining that with each heave of your body, the blade could cut you. You shudder at the thought and your cunt squeezes. Jeongin laughs, noticing how much you enjoy knife play. He drags the blade down between your legs and drags it from where he’s buried inside you up over your clit.

You whimper. He does it again. Your eyes roll back into your head. He’s going to make you come all over his knife if he keeps doing this. Again he drags it over your clit, then brings the blade to your mouth.

“Lick it.” He growls low. You do, moaning at the taste of yourself.

Hyunjin kneels between yours and Jeongin’s legs, biting and licking his bottom lip, before leaning in and lapping at your clit.

You moan loudly at the softness of his lips against your swollen center, and he smiles against you. Then he’s messy, sucking, nipping, licking your pussy, even giving the base of Jeongin’s cock some attention when you lift off enough.

You’re covered in saliva, and sweat drips from Hyunjin’s forehead and hair onto your body.

Then the knife slides back down, between your folds, and over your clit. All while Hyunjin laps you up. His tongue presses on the blade, pushing it firm against your clit, the pressure making you almost explode. Then he pulls away and you whine in protest. But he just merely looks up at you with an expression that makes your skin blush.

He brings his attention back to your pussy, spreading your lips apart with his fingers. He admires your pretty hole being stretched and stuffed with cock, and your swollen clit, that’s being teased by Jeongin’s knife.

Jeongin takes this opportunity to grind the side of the knife against your clit frenziedly while he fucks up into you wildly.

You’re being bounced and thrown around by the cock inside you, and you squirt again when you come, splashing some in Hyunjin’s face.

Cheers resound around the room, and you’re reminded that they are watching the whole thing eagerly.

More cum oozes from your hole when you slide off of Jeongin, and you collapse on the couch beside him, too wobbly and too weak to stand.

You’re out of it. Exhausted and delirious, and only two of them have fucked you so far.

Jeongin brings a bottle of water to your mouth and you drink greedily from it, then rest your head and close your eyes. You feel your body being moved about are repositioned on the couch so you’re lying lengthways with your head resting on the chair arm.

Your eyes flutter open to find Jeongin gone and Hyunjin kneeling on the couch between your legs. He throws one of your legs over the back of the couch, and pushes the other one wide. He wastes no time thrusting into you, all the way. He holds your tits while he fucks you, massaging them in circles as they jiggle in his hands. Then he’s kissing your neck tenderly.

“I need to cum in you so bad. I needed to know if your pussy is as delicious as your ass. It is, by the way.” He chuckles and so do you. “Can I fuck you hard?” he asks.

You nod, yes. He smirks, moving his arm to wrap underneath you and hold you up against him. Then he’s railing into you. Hard, deliberate thrusts that hit your already bruised cervix. He grunts each time he bottoms out, and the longer he goes, the sweatier he gets. It pours off of him onto your body, creating that same slipperiness as when he and Han fucked you the day before.

His thrusts turn frantic as he nears his orgasm. “Play with yourself. Wanna feel you flutter around me.” he pants.

You slip a hand down between your bodies, and rub your overstimulated clit until you’re coming hard on his cock.

“Yes, that’s it…fuck!” he growls, pulling out suddenly and plastering your sweat covered body in cum. Unexpectedly, he leans down and licks up a puddle of cum and pushes it into your mouth in a slow tongue kiss. You moan and your pussy responds with aftershocks.

“Let’s get her up against the wall. She can’t stand on her own. Suengimin and I will hold her for you guys.” Chan advises the group of the plan.

You're lifted off the couch by strong hands, and pinned to the wall. “Wrap your arms around our shoulders.” Chan says to you softly. “Yes, like that. We’ll hold your legs, you don’t have to do anything. Just let them use you.”

You're hoisted up the wall, legs spread, cunt open and ready for the taking.

“Alright, who’s first, boys.” Suengmin calls to the others.

Han is there in a heartbeat. “Hello, baby!” He smiles at you, then he kisses you with those sinful lips of his. He pulls a moan from you as he rubs his cock through your wet lips, and he looks down to watch himself sink inside you. “You’re tighter than yesterday. You must be so swollen, baby.” He pulls out almost the entire way, then thrusts deep. You whimper.

“Sorry, baby. It might hurt a bit, but…ngh…” He slams in as hard as he can, Seungmin and Chan having to steady you from being fucked up the wall. “But, you see…” Another slam into your cunt. “You're pussy loves it rough. I know it does. I can feel it choking me.” He leans his head on your shoulder, and cups his hands under your ass, and grinds into you. Your clit rubs against him and you clench harder around him.

“Wish I could fuck you everyday.” He whispers against your ear so only you can hear.

His sweet words, coupled with his now desperate thrusts, has your head lolling back against the wall and you gently come around him. He follows almost immediately, adding his thick cum to the mix inside you.

Han pulls out with Felix poised to take his place. He moves into position quickly, gathering as much cum that’s seeping out of your hole onto the head of his dick and then squeezing inside you.

He foregos all his usual pleasantries to simply say “I need to cum so bad. Just let me fuck you quick.”

He fucks you with short, sharp, brutal thrusts, chasing his own orgasm and nothing else. “I’m not not interested in making you come, you’ve had plenty of those. I just need to…grrr.” He fucks you hard and fast, no more words, just pretty moans. You let him use you, watching his beautiful face in awe as it scrunches up with need, and then, with his mouth hung open, he’s cumming deep inside you. He trembles as he cums. It’s so pretty.

“Rightio, Minho. Your turn.”

Your eyes snap up when you hear his name. Minho. Your heart stops beating as he steps up to you, and you feel something flutter in your tummy. You swallow, your throat is so dry.

He moves in closer so the side of his cheek rests on yours. His hand finds your hip, gripping it gently, then with the other, he guides his cock to your entrance.

You hold your breath in anticipation. He hesitates briefly, and that kick starts your heart again. Now it’s pounding so hard there’s no way he can’t hear it.

With his body pressed right up against yours, he pushes into you. Slowly. So slowly, you whimper. You need his cock so bad that your cunt actually aches. A little squirming from you doesn’t spur him on. He just squeezes inch by torturous inch into you.

He bottoms out and you both sigh in relief. He stills. A long moment passes, and then he’s rolling his hips up into you. So deep, so deliciously deep. The way he moves his hips has his cock hitting you in different angles that the others can’t reach.

You take your hands from around Chan and Seungmin’s shoulders, opting to wrap them around MInho’s neck instead. He drops his head to kiss your neck softly. He moans with each thrust now, picking up the intensity. He’s not rough, he doesn’t need to be. Not with the way you’re coming undone on his cock like you are.

You’re partially brought out of your dazed state when you feel someone's fingers at your other hole. “Gotta start prepping you for the next phase.” Suengmin states.

While Minho continues to gently fuck your brains out, the others work you up to two fingers in your ass. You come when one finger is inside, making Minho growl and tell you you’re greedy, and now that two fingers are fucking you back there, you’re about to come again.

“I think our little whore’s ready to take more cock.” Suengmin ushers some of the others over. They gather around as Minho holds onto you and pulls you away from the wall. Your legs wrap around his waist, and his cock is still inside you.

He turns you around, presenting your ass for the others. “Remember you can use your safe word, okay?” he whispers against your ear.

You nod. “I know. Thank you for making me feel safe.”

He looks at you longingly, then his gaze drops to your lips. You want to smash your lips onto his, but you daren’t. He has his boundaries and you must respect those, just like he’s respected you.

So you just lean on his shoulder and let him hold you while you get your ass fucked.

Changbin is first to come up to you. “Finally, my turn.” He hisses, pressing the tip of his lubed cock to your ass.

He’s so thick that it stings, even with all that lube and previous preparation. You bite into Minho’s shoulder, and your fingernails dig into the back of his neck. Minho squeezes your ass, a little pain to distract you from the huge stretch Chanbin’s cock is causing.

“Yeah, bunny. That’s it. Good girl. So tight for Binnie.”

“So full of cock.” Minho hums and rolls his hips up into you.

You lean back against Changbin’s chest and he reaches around to fondle both your tits.

The pair hold you between them, rhythmically rolling their hips simultaneously. Jeongin kneels down next to you so he can get a good look at the action, and Felix suddenly has his camera out taking photos.

You’re delirious, putty in their hands. You stop noticing what’s going on around you, when suddenly you feel so empty. Changbin has blown and is pulling out, stepping out of the way so another could have a turn. This time it is Hyunjin with his long cock, delivering deep thrusts to your ass. He comes quickly, then makes way for Suengmin.

He is just as rough with your ass as he was with your cunt earlier, brutally fucking you until you think you’re actually going to pass out.

“Not gonna stop, or go easy on her unless she uses her color code or safe word.” He declares, hitting you extra hard. “She asked for rough. She gets rough.”

“Is she even conscious?” Someone, you think it’s Han, asks concerned.

“Hey! Babygirl.” Chan peels off some hair stuck to your cheek. “You still with us?”

Only your eyes move to meet his. “Don’t stop.” you manage to say.

Seungmin laughs. “See. Told you so.” He doubles down, thrusting up so hard you bounce on his cock, pushing you up the length of Minho’s, then slipping back down onto them. He repeats this several times, your moaning increasing in volume each time you slide back down their cocks.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum.” Minho announces. The sensation of him pulsing inside you and the relentless attack on your ass has you coming too, long and hard, and you actually scream this time.

Satisfied with his efforts, Seungmin lets himself go, cumming deep up your ass with a growl.

>>>>>

After every one had calmed down, it is agreed that there’d be no more ass fucking after what Seungmin just did.

They carry you over to the mattress, laying you on your back, and examining your holes. You are still out of it, and you wonder if this is what sub space is?

Someone, you don’t know who, spreads your pussy and asscheeks apart, and you feel more cum leak out of you.

“I wasn’t that rough. I bet she could take two cocks up there at the same time.”

“Oooh.” Han’s interest is piqued.

“No!” Minho growls at him, then presses a bottle of water to your lips. “Here, drink.” He says lifting your head so you could take a sip.

“M-more.” You mumble. Minho brings the bottle back, but you shake your head.

“More what, love?” Felix asks.

“H-haven’t had the-the Ch-chief.” You whimper.

“I’m not sure you’re up for tha-”

“Please!” You wail, your hands grasping for him. “Want all of you again.”

Slap! A harsh slap across your cheek, brings you out of your delirious state. Your eyes snap open to find that Han was the one slapped you in the face. You blink rapidly, eyes watering, shocked.

“S-sorry. It’s just… I know how you’re feeling right now. You just want to float away and let us do anything we want. But we need to make sure we have your consent first.”

The others nodded in agreement.

“You can go back to La La Land in a minute, but you need to clarify what you want.” Chan reiterated stroking your thigh tenderly.

You looked at each of the men kneeling and sitting around you. Each and every one of them has satisfied your desires. None of them have overstepped any boundary, or hurt you in any way. You know they won’t hurt you now either.

“I want to…just lay here and have each of you fuck me again. I want cocks in my mouth. Fingers anywhere you want. Play with me. Touch me. Stroke me. Pinch me. Slap my tits. I want to let go, and just be.” You shrug.

They all look at you with understanding eyes. They get it. They know what you mean. Finally, you’ve stopped feeling ashamed. This is the real you. This is what makes you feel good. And it’s okay.

“Your wish is our command. Lay down for us, yeah? Let us take what we want from you?” Chan coos.

“Mmm hmm.” You whimper, laying back down, and letting yourself fall back into the blissful state you were in before.

Hands caress your body, some soft and gentle, others tugging and squeezing. Then mouths start to land on your body. Sweet, warm, gentle kisses peppered along your skin. Sloppy, wet sucking of nipples, earlobes, neck, toes. Your fingers are put into mouths before being wrapped around a cocks. Thick, skilled fingers fill your pussy.

You moan as the men devour you.

Chan lifts your legs up, folding them so your knees are up near your chest.

“Oh the mating press? That’s gonna be so deep. She’s gonna feel all of you.” Hyunjin notes.

“Baby girl needs to feel us for days to come.” Chan grunts and hisses as his thickness stretches your entrance. “That’s the girl. Let Channie in.” He eases into you slowly, pushing on the backs of your legs to ensure ultimate depth.

“S’big.” You mumble, and a few men chuckle softly as though you’re endearing to them.

Fingers come to your mouth, Han’s, and slip inside. You suck on them immediately, willingly, allowing him to slip them in further, like he’s gently fucking your face.

You think you’ve gone cross-eyed when Chan pushes in one last time and bottoms out. “So deep, huh? Feel good?” He asks you.

You moan around Han’s fingers.

“Gonna fuck you now, yeah? Nice and deep.” He slowly pulls out halfway, pauses, then presses inside to the hilt. He pauses there for a moment too, before pulling back out and repeating the movement. Each pause feels like an eternity, and he laughs every time you whine in protest.

“Oh, you want me to go faster?” He smirks, but you are too out of it to see his expression, so he just starts to fuck you harder and faster anyway. Your tits bounce for you on each impact, and eager hands continuously grope at them. Jeongin slaps one of them, and Felix bites the other.

You only realize the fingers are gone from your mouth when you feel a cock brush against your cheek.

“Hey! Hey.” You automatically turn towards it, seeking it blindly. “Shh.. Here you go, pop this in.” It’s Changbin bullying his cock head into your mouth.

“I’m gonna cum, baby girl. You ready?” Chan pushes into you as far as he can, holding himself there as he empties himself into you with a high pitched moan.

>>>

You’ve lost track of who’s inside you, one after the other take turns, while you’re continuously fed cock. Some pull you in different positions, like flat on your stomach while they lay flush against your body and grind into you from behind. Another has your legs thrown over their shoulder.

Han can’t decide on what position to have you, but eventually settles on having you half turned on your side while he straddles your straightened leg, and uses your bent leg for leverage. “It’s the best of both worlds. I can grab her ass, or her tits” he pants whilst giving them a slap and a squeeze.

“Yeah, and I can slide my cock right down her throat.” Chan decides he needs to feel your mouth around him one last time before this ends.

Finally, Minho hovers over you. He has you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he lays against your body. He watches your face intensely while he fucks you so incredibly slowly.

You’re not sure what the others are doing, they’ve all stopped touching you, and you don’t care to look for them. You’re too captivated by the man above you, and you don’t dare look away. His eyes are curious, kind, and so utterly accepting of you.

You bite your lip and the smallest of whimpers escapes your mouth. The corner of his lip twitches as he holds back a smirk.

“Feel good?” He says low. You grin and nod your head. “What about this?” He rolls his hips in a way that grazes that spot. Your eyes threaten to roll back in your head, but you don’t let them. You want to watch his expression as you come around him.

And you are coming. It’s not a big, violent release, but blissful waves of pleasure. The pulsing doesn’t ease, and as Minho continues to fuck you, you realise you’re coming a second time.

“Oh!” You choke as this one hits you with more intensity.

“I know you’ve got one last one for me. Come with me, kitten.” He says so only you can hear.

His thrusts speed up as he seeks his own release, and with one final thrust, you both fall off the cliff together. Squeezing, pulsing, throbbing. Together.

>>>>

After care with these guys is exquisite. You’re wiped down with warm wet towels and given plenty of water to drink, followed by more food.

“You need to eat before you get washed up properly. We don’t want you fainting in there.” Seungmin explains. “Then we’ll sort out your debrief and release process.”

>>>>

Minho carries you to a bathroom you haven’t been taken to before. It isn’t nasty like the one where he found you sobbing on the filthy tiles.

He’s relieved to finally get you properly soaked and cleaned. Would you know that it was him who washed and folded your clothes and left them on the bathroom counter? He’d even retrieved your panties from the floor of the police car.

The tub was already full of hot water and bubbles, and after he undresses you, he lowers you into the tub carefully. He makes the mistake of looking at your face. Why do you have to look at him like that? Sucking in your lip and gazing at him longingly.

He sighs, thinking about how you wanted all the others, and him, to fuck you absolutely dumb.

“Here, let me wash you properly.” He says sternly, trying to force his thoughts to stay on task. But that doesn’t help because you’re exposing your breasts now, letting him soap them up.

Jesus fucking Christ. The way your walls squeezed him when you came three times for him at the end there, it felt like his heart was being squeezed at the same time. Those three orgasms were just for him too. You were too focused on looking into his soul to notice anyone else. No one else was touching you. It was just you and him in that moment.

Stop it. He wills the thoughts away. But when the sponge he’s washing you with slips between your thighs, and he’s washing away everyone’s cum, he thinks about how he felt watching you be fucked.

You looked so beautiful at the mercy of so many cocks. It made his dick throb seeing you with Seungming taking you from behind while you choked on Han’s dick. And the way you begged for more while your eyes lost focus and you didn’t care whose cock you had in which hole? It was erotic, and he loved it.

But he also wanted to pull them all away and have you just for himself.

“Are you okay, Minho?” You ask softly and bring him out of his thoughts.

He nods. “Yeah. Just kind of like having you around. We have discounts for return customers if you’re interested?” He grins.

You look at him incredulously. “Really?” You say, pulling back and looking at him suspiciously.

He nods again and laughs. “I promise I’m not shitting you.”

He is shitting you. They don’t really have discounts, but maybe Chan and Seungmin would make an exception?

Eventually, he pulls himself together, managing to help you out of the tub and dressing you without losing control and doing something inappropriate.

You’ll be gone soon and it won’t matter. It won’t take long to forget you. That’s a lie and he knows it.

>>>>>>>>>

You’re given your debriefing session with Chan, and Seungmin, who you have come to learn, is very much part of the administration and organization side of things for their establishment-slash-services.

“This is your folder of information, feedback forms, photographs… Oh, and your police reports from the Officers.”

You take the folder from him, flicking through the pages quickly.

“Also,” Chan adds. “You will receive a phone call in a week to check on your wellbeing. Minho will now take you to your car. It was a pleasure pleasuring you.” He smiles and gives you a big, warm hug, and you don’t want to leave.

MInho walks you to your car, which at some point had been driven to the police station and parked around the back.

“I’ve put your address in the GPS, so you’re good to go. Keys are in the ignition.” He says.

“Thank you.” You say, turning and leaning on the door of the car. “I can’t believe it’s over.”

You sigh.

Minho takes a step back, hands deep in his pockets and eyes fixed to the ground. “Yeah, it went too quickly.” He scuffs his shoe through the gravel on the ground in front of him.

You wait for him to say something more, but he doesn’t.

“O-okay. Well…I’ll be off then.” You say with a big smile, hoping he doesn’t hear the strain in your voice. You turn to open the car door, to leave forever. Well, you can always hire them again, right? You remind yourself as you go to open the door.

You’re taken by surprise when a hand pushes the door closed again and spins you around and presses you against the car. Minho. He holds the side of your waist one hand, the other comes to cup your cheek. He looks into your eyes so intensely that you stop breathing. Then he lowers his eyes to your lips.

“Minho?” You squeak.

He doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he leans in closer, brushing his lips with yours. Tingles spread through your entire body just from this minute contact. But then he’s crashing down on you, taking your lips harshly, desperately, passionately.

You’re melting, your legs weakening, but he holds you firm.

He only breaks away to catch a breath, then he’s back, kissing you deeply, this time seeking to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

He moans against you when you fight back and push your tongue into his mouth.

He pushes his crotch against you as your tongues continue to dance together in the perfect balance of soft and wild.

Your body is on fire, the butterflies in your tummy swirling uncontrollably, and your core aches for him. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, not wanting to let go.

He hooks an arm under one of your thighs, lifting it so he can grind harder against your core. The friction from his hardness against you has you soaking.

Eventually, the kiss comes to completion, and Minho pulls away to lean his forehead on yours.

“Thought you didn’t do kissing on the lips, Mister?” You smirk.

He smiles. “I don’t. But I don’t normally crush on a client either.” He strokes your cheek and leans in for another long kiss.

>>>>

A/n: I hope you enjoyed the series! I'm a little sad it's over, but you never know what can happen in the future. I'm happy to answer asks about this series too. Like for example "what did they put in their polices reports?" or "give us a first date with minho." You know, things like that :-)

>>>>>>

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#skz smut #ot8 smut #ot8 x reader #skz x reader #poly skz #sorshas fic

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