#it's like. wips i know i want to be polished. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months ago

Text

All In 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: Happy weekend.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The car comes to a stop. It takes you a minute to notice as you reel yourself back to reality. You blink through the tinted window as Merv turns the music down; a song about glory days or something.

��Here we are,” he announces and cranes to look back at you, “have fun, miss.”

“Have fun...” you whisper to yourself in confusion, “what? Where do I go?”

He laughs, not mockingly, and he points through the window, “well, you’ll want to go into that restaurant and give them Mr. Barnes’ name. They’ll sort you out, I’m sure.”

“Oh,” your brows draw together. A restaurant. What?

You undo your seatbelt hesitantly and peer out through the glass again. This is strange. You’ve only had a few interviews and most of them were in cramped backrooms or closets. You pull the handle and let yourself out, thanking Merv before you step up on the curb.

You shut the car door and hook your bag over your shoulder. You stare up at the restaurant’s marquee. It’s a bistro of some sort. Upscale by your measure, thought you have little experience beyond chain joints and fast food. The white facade with its tall windows is intimidating as you approach the entrance.

As you step inside, you’re all but assured that you don’t belong. A woman greets you with a pearly smile, her hair in a wispy bun, as she sports a flowery white dress. You look back and forth as she cradles a tablet in one arm.

“Do you have a reservation?” She asks.

You look down at yourself. That’s a generous assumption. You don’t know how she’s not telling you to leave.

“Erm, I... I think I’m looking for someone,” you say, “Mr. Barnes?”

“Barnes, yes, party for two,” she taps the screen, “he’s waiting. Won’t you follow me?”

She spins on her heels and strolls away. She’s tall and gorgeous, just like the woman at the casino. You peer around and find no less finery and beauty among the staff and diners. The table are all white and polished and the walls are hung with abstract paintings of heaping fruit and bright cocktails. You’ve never seen brunch done so extravagantly.

You nearly trip as you look ahead just before you reach the stairs. The hostess climbs ahead of you. You envy her modelesque figure. How is she stuck here? She’s breathtaking. She could be in magazines.

More importantly, where are you going?

Several flights and you emerge into the open air. You've never been on a rooftop. You’ve seen things like these in movies. There’s a bar center to the space and tables beneath umbrellas set all about. There is only one diner despite the sunshine. It is strangely desolate for such a warm scene.

You’re led to the only occupied table. Mr. Barnes stands as you near. He wears a pair of teal slacks and a patterned shirt with an open collar. Casual but just as refined as before. It hardly seems like job interview.

“Doll,” he greets you with a kiss on the cheek to your surprise. You don’t comment on it, it might just be his way. “You made it.”

“I...” you check your watch, “it was before noon when I got to the casino.”

“That’s on me,” he insists as he pulls out the chair for you, “I got restless. Changed my mind. Please.”

He gestures to the seat and you accept stiffly, moving your bag into your lap as he tucks the chair in under you. He resumes his seat and looks up at the woman patiently standing to the side, “Melody,” he says, “she’ll have a vodka cran, give me my usual. Thanks.”

“Yes, Mr. Barnes,” she replies eagerly.

“Oh, and the lunch menu,” he returns.

She clacks off in her heels as you squirm and clutch your purse. You peer around the rooftop and finally at Bucky. You give a sheepish smile.

“This is a nice place.”

“Sure is,” he sits back carelessly. There is no tension in him but your wound tight as a spring.

“Never been anywhere like this...” your eyes drift over and you stare at the city skyline.

“Made sure we weren’t near the edge, doll,” he assures, “I remember you’re not a fan.” He rests a hand on the table, rubbing his index and thumb. “And I wanted to have this time alone so my pal did me a favour and cleared the roof.”

“Oh, wow.”

“He owns this place,” he shrugs. “Never got into the restaurant business. It’s fickle.”

You nod, not knowing what to say. He knows about these things. Obviously, a lot. You’ve never even worked a full-time week of work.

“How’s your sister?” He asks, “I assume you got home safe.”

“Yes, er, thank you, again, for doing all that,” you bite your lip and his blue eyes catch the gesture as his eyebrow tweaks. “I’m really sorry she did that.”

“Doll, you’re real sweet apologising for her,” he inclines his head slightly, “but you gotta worry about yourself, don’t ya? That’s why you’re here.”

The hostess, Melody, reappears and sets down two glasses. Yours is bright red with a lime on the rim and his is dark, no ice. She lays down a menu in front of each of you and straightens her posture.

“I have to get back to the door but Hailee will be up to help you shortly. Our specials today are a goat cheese and beet salad or a brown sugar salmon with seasonal veggies.”

“Thanks,” Bucky says as he taps the menu.

Melody leaves you again and you bend your neck to read the menu. You look for a price beneath the dishes and find none. That can’t be good.

“I’m not very hungry,” you sit up straight.

“Doll, don’t worry about it. It’s on me,” he circles his hand around his glass, “why don’t you try your drink? Make sure it’s up to snuff.” He sits forward and lifts his own, “cheers.”

Your hand slips up the condensating glass before you get a grasp on it. You raise it and clink it against his. You bring it to your lips slowly as he does the same, mirroring you as he watches you intently. You gulp and set down the glass as your cheeks strain.

“You don’t like it?” He wonders.

“No, I... well, I don’t drink much,” you take the cloth napkin and dab your lips.

“Ah, if that’s too tart, you can have a look at the cocktails. Some of them are so sweet, you wouldn’t know the difference.”

“I’m okay,” you assure him, “so...” you swallow and force out your breath, “about the job--”

“Damn, doll, I’m so all over the place lately, I didn’t even tell you how good you look.”

“I...” your eyes widen but you quickly wipe away your shock, “that’s nice. I mean, thank you.” Your voice shakes as you struggle to comprehend the compliment. What do you say? “You too.”

He smirks, “yeah, you think so?”

“What?” Your voice cracks.

“You think I look good?” He combs his fingers through his long hair. Oh god.

“Yes,” you answer cautiously, “I like your shirt.”

“You’re adorable,” he snickers and shakes his head, leaning forward once more, bending his arms against the table.

“Uh...” you peek down at the table and back to him. You can’t even blame the sun that you’re about to melt. The umbrella blocks out the bright beacon though a glare comes over the edge. “Bucky, sir, Mr. Barnes,” you shuffle through his titles, “the job. What would that be?”

His brows rise and he brings a hand up to drag over his mouth and beard, his fingers brushing along the trim of his jaw.

“The job,” he repeats as he narrows his eyes, “ah,” he lowers his head and presses a fingertip to the menu, “let’s order before we get into all that.”

You look over the menu again then raise your chin, “I appreciate it, but it’s too much, Bucky. I wouldn’t want to... waste your money.”

“It’s my money,” he looks at you, “so I’ll decide how I waste it.”

“Oh,” your cheeks set alight, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he tilts his head again, “you’re just that type of girl. You don’t know what it is to be treated so allow me to show you.”

You’re confused. This is the oddest encounter you’ve ever had. You almost feel like it’s a joke. You’re this poor helpless girl and he’s flaunting how rich and powerful he is. Is there even a job?

“I’d feel worse if you didn’t eat, so doll, don’t step on my toes.”

You chew your cheek and look down again. That’s it. You’ll have the cucumber sandwich. That’s not too much. It can’t be.

The waitress arrives, a different woman but just as stunning. She introduces herself as Hailee. Bucky prompts you to order first before he gives his own. As she leaves, you rock slightly in your chair, stilling yourself before you can look weird.

“So... I could clean or... I could learn something--”

“Let me stop your there, doll,” he puts a large hand up, his palm rough and lined. “It’s my turn to apologise. I... haven’t been honest with you.”

Your heart drops and you can’t help the glimmer in your vision. No. You’re going to have to go home and tell your mother you failed again. That you wasted her time and gas. You close your eyes and frown.

“Doll, doll,” he says and you hear his chair scrape. You open your eyes as he pulls his chair around to sit closer to you, “hey, let me finish here.”

You look him in the eye. Big mistake. You could drown in the blueness. He smirks and rubs your arm.

“I’m not... it’s not a job I have to offer you,” he says deliberately, his other hand fluttering on your knee, “I would call it an arrangement. Mutually beneficial.”

You stare at him. You’re entire being is on fire. You don’t understand what he’s saying, more so, you can barely think with him touching you.

“But... I need a job,” you sniffle.

He scoffs, not unkindly, “you’ll have money. I know you got a family, your sister, maybe your parents? Economy’s tough, I know it.”

“Money? For what?”

He squeezes your knee and sits up, draping his arm over the back of your chair as he leans even closer, “for your company. For yourself.”

“What?” Your voice piques sharply. “I don’t...”

“Look, let’s take it slow here, alright? Today is the taster. We spend some time together, see how we vibe, and go from there. Now I know you went to a whole lot of trouble to get so nice and pretty for me today,” he coaxes, “and I’m not gonna waste your time so you won’t go home empty handed. One thousand.”

“Thousand?” You breathe.

“Just for lunch,” he says, “I’d pay a lot more so I’m open to bartering.”

“That’s... a lot...” you mutter.

“Nothing’s too much for a girl like you,” his fingers dance along your shoulder.

“I... I...” you heave each word.

“Now don’t you freak out,” he’s on the edge of laughing, “doll, I mean it. Just lunch. You and me. Nothing...” he pulls away from you and puts his hands up, “untoward.”

He stands and moves his chair back across from you. He sits and pushes his shoulders wide, “I mean it. Let’s get to know each other. I want to know all about you, doll.”

“Me?” You gulp.

“You,” he points over the table, “you must like music. You went to that concert, didn’t ya?”

You nod and curl your shoulders.

“What kinda music you like?”

“Oh, I... old stuff, I guess. Destiny’s Child?” You give a sheepish cringe.

“Old school,” he remarks, “I like it. Spice girls too?”

“Yeah,” you clamp your lips together.

“I’m not teasing ya. I can’t lie and say I never turned the radio up when I heard them,” he chuckles, “no judgment. That goes for you too, alright? When you find out how much I like ABBA, you can’t giggle.”

Your cheeks dimple as you try not to smile. It’s hard to imagine him listening to Dancing Queen. You push your shoulders higher and look away.

“Don’t laugh,” he chides.

“I didn’t,” you turn back to him.

“Yeah, you’re too nice, that’s why,” he purrs, “you gotta tell me your fave ABBA song.”

You shrug and he squints cynically, “everyone has one. Come on. Fernando?” You shake your head at his guess. “Waterloo?” Again, no. “Mamma Mia?” Nope. “Take a Chance on Me?” No. “Alright, I surrender, tell me.”

“Gimme, Gimme, Gimme,” you eke out.

“Hm, not what I would guess but interesting,” he muses as his eyes wander from your face and back up, “but I at least knew you had taste.”

He winks and you let out a giggle. Whether your nervous or something else, you can’t untangle all your emotions from one another. Yet you do feel a little better, a little lighter. It’s an unexpected situation but not as bad as you foresaw.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #mcu #marvel #casino au #winter soldier #avengers #captain america #all in

397 notes · View notes

uplatterme · 2 years ago

Text

a/n: i can’t title this. my wip list literally has it as “haitham gets scammed by dori ft. aphrodisiac”

cw: sub!alhaitham, dom!gn!reader | handjob, cockpolishing, usage of aphrodisiac, crying

————

“haitham? are you alright?” you ask out of worry, the scribe trembling as he uses the door frame to support himself.

you quickly go to him to help him out, but a slight touch of skin makes you flinch due to how warm he is. although, that doesn’t compare to the noise that abrupts out of his throat.

“dearest?” you question him again, only to get yourself pinned to the wall.

he presses himself on your body, grinding in a soft and slow rhythm. he tears up, muttering quiet apologies as he continues his movement.

“what’s wrong?”

“s-sorry…” he holds onto your body, desperately trying to get himself off. each friction has him tensing up that the more he does it, the more it seems like he’s edging himself rather than getting that release that he wants.

he pants, breathless. you’re unsure if he’s even sane enough to know what he’s doing.

you put your arms around him, helping him out as he continues to fuck himself on your thigh. his legs are unstable, shaking as if there’s an earthquake happening.

“p-please. need to cum…” he cries out, sobbing. his cock aches, outlining itself from the outside of his pants.

next thing alhaitham knows, his back is on the soft cushion of your bed. it didn’t take much work, considering his body is as frail as a historical artifact right now.

alhaitham’s lower half is so wet to the point you’re half-convinced that the man had cum outside before even getting here. his cock is twitching, and as your warm fingers envelop him, alhaitham whimpers, cumming instantly.

“my scribe, what exactly have you gotten yourself into?”

“drank…something—hn!” the scholar finds himself sensitive, too sensitive, no matter how minimal your touches are.

he grips the messed up sheets of the bed, unable to contain how his body reacts. he keeps telling his brain to stop, that it’s embarrassing how he’s spread out like this, under your mercy.

he wants you to stop looking at him as if you’re going to devour him whole like a wild beast…

“more….” he begs.

ah, is there even a point of him lying to himself?

“needy today, aren’t we? you said you had work to do…and now you’re here.” you tease.

“it’s not me…it’s because of that damn wine…” he breathes out, he feels you quickening your face and his body shrivels up into another orgasm.

“really. so why is it that instead of getting the antidote, you come to me instead?”

the pleasure is getting to his head. it’s almost as if you’re inside his brain, knowing exactly what he’s thinking.

“i…” he doesn’t see himself winning, even if he decides to think of something to say.

“using such a thing to your advantage. how irresponsible, my scribe.”

you play with the tip of his cock, your thumb slipping on his slit. he drowns in the sensation, all coherent thoughts leaving him.

he didn’t—he swears that he didn’t plan it to end up like this. he was just tricked by that damn merchant!

why didn’t he go get the antidote?

as your finger continues to polish his cock, his body quivers, wanting to curl up and away from the touch. he’s so close—god, he’s gonna cum. he doesn’t want to—he does—no—yes—please!

your other hand keeps him still, forcing him to endure and to not resist the overwhelming satisfaction that you’re giving him.

you’re going to break him. reduce his mind into nothing but a mindless puddle, nothing that the kind of scholar he proudly presents himself as.

he sobs even harder as he reaches another climax. he hears you laugh.

“you’re fine, my pretty baby. i’ll take such good care of you. don’t worry.”

“o-okay.” he responds with a grin.

#sub genshin impact #sub genshin #dom reader #dom!reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #sub alhaitham #sub!alhaitham #alhaitham x reader

3K notes · View notes

zh-lele · 1 year ago

Text

12-7 ROOM (part two)

Surviving a week to Donghyuck's charms and jokes can't be so hard... Worst case scenario, you end up completely falling for your brother's best friend.

▪︎Pairing: brother's best friend!Hyuck x fem reader

▪︎Genres: poor attempt at rom com, fluff

▪︎Warnings: alcohol consumption, profanity, suggestive jokes, kissing, and some very light suggestive scenes.

▪︎Word count (part 2): 7721 words

playlist | extra content: mc's IG stories

Author's note: hi everyone :') sorry for being so absent and never posting the final part to 12-7 room. But hey, I finally got the motivation to do it. I've been also writing other things but I don't know when I'll finsih them or post them. Anyways, if you want to take a look, the other things I'm always working on are listed on my wips page. Once again, sorry for taking too long to post this and I hope someone can enjoy it anyway. Thank you so much for the love on part 1! Seriously, thank you. This isn't proof read so tell me if you find any mistakes, please and thank you. Enjoy!

Saturday, 08:37 p.m.

"I feel like we're betraying Mark."

"Why?"

"We're having a sleepover without him," you explain to Donghyuck while you extend your left hand to him, and he places his right hand over your palm, so you can continue painting his nails with a black polish. "You know, we're listening to Bruno Mars, eating watermelon–"

"Aren't we supposed to eat watermelon in the summer?" Donghyuck interrupts you to ask.

"Real watermelon enjoyers eat watermelon no matter what time of the year it is–Hyuck!" you scream after he makes a sudden move to grab a piece of fruit from the bowl and half his index finger ends up covered in black nail polish. "Stop moving your hand!"

"I'm sorry!"

He apologizes and stays still in front of your body, legs crossed and knees touching yours. Donghyuck is so close you can feel his breath in your hair, and even though you know it's impossible for him to hear your heart-rate increasing exponentially, you fear the closeness and the intimacy may give you away. Honestly, by this time you thought you might have figured it out: you had to either rethink your relationship and conclude that you were only going to be friends forever, or accept your feelings and confess to him, no matter what the outcome could be.

But you find yourself finishing Donghyuck's nails and looking up to him, who was–as more often as you thought–already looking at you. He smiles to you sweetly, no teeth on sight, and he looks ridiculous. Donghyuck is wearing a sheet mask with the form of a peach, yet you still find the sight in front of you incredibly endearing. The worst part about it is that you're looking as ridiculous as him, with the lemon-shaped sheet mask covering your face. You feel his thumb gently caress the back of your hand that he was still holding even long after you've finished. And as his soft features are illuminated by the warm dim lights of the lamp and the TV, as he holds your hand and looks at you as if you might be the prettiest lemon he has seen, you get that feeling again.

The comfort, the domesticity. The urge to be his companion, to share moments like this and many more. Every day.

Your phone buzzes as you set an alarm to take the masks off twenty minutes ago.

Donghyuck lets your hand go. He lets go of your heart too—but only for a second. He cradles your face, his soft fingertips pet your jaw, then your cheeks, and you can't hold his gaze anymore. You want to look down, drop your head before you start word-vomiting everything you're feeling and you've been feeling for him since the moment you met, since that first time he cooked ramen for you and you decided you wanted it to be your comfort food forever.

Donghyuck won't let you look down, though. He applies pressure with his fingers in the place where your neck and your jaw meet and with his thumbs on your cheeks. Your lips naturally pout under the pressure and you see it. Donghyuck. Your best friend. The guy you've liked forever now, looking at your lips for what you think it's been like the fourth time this weekend. And it's only been hours since the weekend started.

Is it really going to happen? Are you about to kiss Donghyuck right now? On the living room's couch on a saturday night in, under the dim lights, while Silk Sonic's Love's Train plays in the background and you're wearing fruit-shaped sheet masks?

It is fucking romantic.

Yet it never comes.

It doesn't happen.

Donghyuck just says: "It's time to take the masks off."

And you agree because, well, what the hell are you supposed to do? Just throw yourself all over him like you, maybe, have been imagining? Donghyuck takes your mask off your skin and you take his, that leaves his face looking the softest and smelling like sweet peaches. That definitely doesn't help your situation.

You're incredibly frustrated. Upset, even, like a kid who got denied his candy. (You wish Donghyuck was your candy.) You hate this sleepover now and even wish Mark was here to cock-block the entire situation. That would be less upsetting.

"And?" He asks once both of you have your masks off. "Do I look cuter now?"

Oh, so he's aware he's already incredibly cute.

You can't contain a smile. He's only centimeters away from you after he quickly moves back to look for his glasses. You feel the need to poke his cheeks that look as soft as marshmallows and smell like fucking peaches. Actually, you might feel the need to eat him.

But you don't dare say anything. Only trying to hide your smile looking down, as your face grows red, you let Donghyuck think of his own conclusions after your reaction.

Thing is, you're kind of a coward.

Donghyuck says it's time to netflix and chill, and you laugh because the statement is followed by a "Literally. Don't start thinking about something dirty."

He places himself on the mattress on the floor (the one you've been sleeping since you arrived), a bunch of pillows supporting his back, and makes room for you. He's cheeky enough to pat his stomach to tell you to lie there, between his legs and over his body. Just like that, as if you hadn't been melting before just by holding his hand in yours or having your knees touch. And now he wants you to lie on his stomach?

Are you really that close? If so, why isn't he your boyfriend yet?

You open your eyes wider and point a finger at yourself. "Me. Me?" Your voice comes out full of disbelief.

"Not you. Mark," he says with a roll of his eyes. "Of course it's you! Unless you don't want to lay together?"

"I mean…"

How do you make it sound not so desperate, not too obvious?

You just shrug and say, "Yeah, sure."

Aced it.

Donghyuck's body feels like the softest mattress you've ever laid on, like you could close your eyes and sleep trapped in his limbs forever. And because of the closeness, you can sense the vibrations of his voice traveling from his torso to your ears. His tone is quiet and gentle, talking about what to watch to no one in particular because, even though he's talking to you, you're too concentrated on opening your camera and capturing the moment in a video of the two of you.

"Look how cute," you say, moving your arm to his eye level to show him the video. "You talk in pout when you're really concentrated."

When you're conscious of the surroundings once again, you're sure you've replayed the video with a smile on your face like ten times.

"You should upload that."

"I've posted enough about you," you reply to his suggestion, going back and saving the video to your drafts. "People are gonna think you're my boyfriend or whatever…"

"Would that be so bad?" Donghyuck questions with his eyes fixed on the TV screen. When you move your head back to look up at him, he dares to connect eyes with you. "People thinking I'm your boyfriend?"

Sunday, 12:02 p.m.

Donghyuck had always been clingy.

Yet you didn't know he could be this clingy in the mornings.

Mark has been trying to get Donghyuck out of bed for like ten minutes now, but he won't get up. While your brother is pulling his arm out, Donghyuck pulls Mark's arm in, asking him to join him and sleep 'just a little more'.

Yes, your brother found you both sleeping on the mattress in the living room. No, you and Donghyuck were not clinging to each other (sadly). But Hyuck was for sure clinging to your brother now.

"Mark!" He protests in a sleepy tone. "What do you want if you won't come in?"

"We were supposed to have brunch together," your brother tells Donghyuck again, yet he must be too sleepy to process what's happening.

"I won't go." Donghyuck states and doesn't even open his eyes again. The living room is clear enough, as the winter sun has been hitting for hours now. But it isn't an impediment for him to curl up under the blankets like a burrito and go back to sleep.

Mark drops his shoulders and allows himself to sigh, finally defeated by his heavy-sleeper best friend. "I guess it's just you and me, y/n."

—

Fortunately for you, the weather has been amazing since you arrived in the city where your brother lives. Saturday was no different, with a clear blue sky above your heads despite it being winter, and the sun shining just the right amount to touch your skin and leave it warm. A little breeze messes with you and your brother's freshly dyed hair as you sit outside a coffee shop, brunch almost all devoured on the table. Mark hums to a familiar jazzy tune that plays all the way from inside the café.

And the atmosphere is beautifully calm. But you need to get something out of your chest. For once.

"So," you start and Mark moves eyes from his food to set them on you, expectant of your next words with a mouth full of pancakes and fruit. "I think I like Donghyuck."

Mark starts coughing after hearing you, and you wonder if it is because of the shock of your confession or because he really is that careless to get the food stuck in his throat.

"Yeah, I knew," he confirms once it's clear for him to speak again.

"The fuck you mean 'you knew'?"

"I mean, honestly, it's pretty obvious." Your brother can't hide a smile. He drops the fork to properly talk to you this time. "Like, you've always had some kind of thing… I don't know, I thought I had a special connection with Hyuck," he says pointing at himself, eyes wide with what could look like a little bit of shock. "But you two… You two are something else."

"Oh God," you cover your face in embarrassment even though after your brother's words there's no point in hiding anything anymore. "So you've been watching me acting like a fool in love around Donghyuck all this time, and you said nothing."

"I didn't say anything 'cuz I thought it had to come from you." He shrugs. "Wanted you to feel comfy enough to tell me, even though I had my suspicions, obviously."

"May I ask… Why," you hesitate a little before asking for a third-person perspective. "Why were you suspicious about it?"

"Dude, I don't know," a small laughter escapes him. "You just look like you'd be all over each other if you could."

You just groan in frustration hearing your brother saying you might have been way more obvious than you thought you were. Temperature rises to your cheeks coloring them a little red, and not because of the midday sun hitting right from above your head.

"And you can," Mark says, yet you don't get it, the tilting of your indicating he has to clarify. "Like, you can be all over each other. I don't know why nothing has happened between the two of you yet."

"'Cuz I don't know if he likes me?"

"How could you know if you don't try?"

Your gaze drops to your lap, and you realize you've been playing with the rings of your hands, taking them off and putting them on over and over, indicating the conversation is making you a little nervous.

Mark must notice, since he keeps talking. "Just tell him, dude. Best case scenario, he also likes you, you move out together and make me free from Donghyuck's ass."

The way he puts it makes you laugh, yet there's a slight weight to your eyes, as if tears could start falling down slowly at any time after holding your feelings in for so long. So you take a deep breath, blink a few times and look at the sun.

The sun, shining in its maximum splendor in the middle of the sky. And you wonder what he's doing right now. Donghyuck, or Haechan, as his mother used to call him when he was little. Full Sun, because he's always so bright and energetic, like a happy virus (Mark would also call him a pain in the ass, but you see, it depends on who you ask.)

"Worst case scenario, you remain as good friends," Mark continues. "C'mon, you know him, he's not a dick. You just gotta try talking to him."

You gulp and nod at him, now trying to make eye contact with a subtle smile on your face. Another deep breath. "You're right. Donghyuck won't hurt me, no matter what the outcome is."

Monday, 01:43 a.m.

On Mark's phone...

Meanwhile at the livingroom...

"Hyuck–wait. Can't we go slower?!"

"Look at that!" Donghyuck screams pointing at the TV screen, after taking the airpod off his right ear. You do the same with the one you were using, and the music from the game stops playing in your head. "I got a perfect score!" And he continues to do a silly victory dance, moving his hips from side to side with his arms in the air.

You really don't want to be mad at Donghyuck right now.

"This is so unfair," you tell him, stepping out of the frame and leaving the remote on top of the game console. "You didn't tell me you were this good. And you know I can't dance at all."

"You're right," Donghyuck says sincerely, a hand on his chest, right in front of his heart and all. "I didn't tell you I'm a dancing god and took advantage of your poor dancing skills to win the Just Dance."

You really don't want to get mad at him, but sometimes he makes it pretty much impossible.

"You." A hand comes in contact with Donghyuck's arm. Your hand. "Dirty." Another slap. "Bastard." And another one. "I hate you so much!"

"Hey!" He protests rubbing his arm after you slapped it. "Lying is a sin."

"I'm not lying," you say. "I hate you. You put on the fastest choreo to follow."

Donghyuck follows you around to the kitchen and watches your every move. He's right behind you, his eyes following your motions when you fill a glass with water, when you gulp it down, when you clean it and leave it back on the counter. He's hot on your heels when you come back to the common area and take the inflatable mattress out to get ready to sleep. He's still following your moves carefully when you put on the sheets and when you lay on it with the remote of the TV in hand. He only takes his eyes off your body when the Netflix logo appears on the screen and he notices you're about to watch the show you two started together.

You know he's dying for a word from you.

"You don't mean it," he says, now free of all mocking tones.

"I don't mean what?"

"You don't hate me."

You're pretty sure Donghyuck doesn't need you to confirm that you weren't serious. Naturally, he has always shown himself as a very self-assured and friendly person; It's not normal that people don't like Donghyuck. However, when you meet his eyes, wide and expectant of your response, and perhaps wet with a little insecurity, you understand that things are not always what they seem.

"How could I ever hate you, Hyuck?" you tell him to extend a hand in his direction, inviting him to lay on your side on the mattress.

Relief takes over his expression, and a wide smile is plastered on his face. He's quick to get comfortable (maybe too comfortable, not that you really mind) laying his head on your lap, and moving your left hand to his hair that looks like it's got longer over the days. You know he wants you to play with it—Donghyuck loves getting his hair played with. The fourth episode of My First First Love starts playing on the TV screen, and you hear Donghyuck sigh contentedly.

The subtle strokes at the hair on his nape get Donghyuck smiling again and exhaling deeper at your tranquil touch. And, not to be biased, but the colored lights coming from the TV highlight the softest, most beautiful face features you've seen in your life. In an act of courage, you move your fingertips from his hair, to his sharp jaw, to his cheekbones, gently caressing the warm skin.

Donghyuck moves his head on your lap until he's no longer watching TV. Neither are you. You're just staring at each other in silence. He's letting you stroke every part of skin until the tip of your fingers make it to his lips. His plump pink lips that have been tempting you more and more the past days. And he places a kiss there. On the tip of your fingers.

You freeze and grow red. Then he places another kiss, and another, making it three the times you've felt Donghyuck's lips on your skin.

It may be driving you crazy.

He's careful with his movements, so careful it turns almost painful watching him. Donghyuck grabs your wrist and gets up to sit beside your spot on the mattress. Doesn't let go of your hand—instead, he holds it tenderly, caresses the back of it with his thumb, then places another kiss there.

Four times you've felt Donghyuck's lips on your skin. Five. Six—he just placed a kiss on your palm. Wait, another on your wrist. That's seven kisses so far.

But it's not enough. Now you've felt his lips you want them everywhere, all the time. So when he gets your hand closer to keep kissing you there, you grab his face. Feel the skin there, of his jaw, of his neck, and it's really hot. You think you might even feel the rapid pace of his pulse when you press your fingers on his neck (but it could also be your own.) Lastly, you tangle your fingers in his hair that he has let grow during these weeks of winter break. You tug on it a little, just enough to let him know you want him close. Closer, please.

And Donghyuck sighs, more like he fucking moans.

You wonder if you should say something before moving forward. What about all the things you talked to Mark yesterday? Should you tell him about how you feel before kissing him? What does he want? And what would this be after you kiss?

The call of your name interrupts your torment of thoughts.

"Please," he begs in a whisper, eyes closed as your noses brush against each other. "I'll die if I don't kiss you right now."

A laugh comes out of you because he always has to be that exaggerated, but you decide to set all questions aside for a moment to just dive into him.

He starts off very gently, with his slightly parted lips pressing against yours. They are indeed as fleshy and soft as they look, and taste like a cherries lipbalm. Donghyuck repeatedly places small kisses on your lips until you open your mouth a little more, and he captures your lower lip, biting a bit there. It gets another little tug on his hair from you, a sigh of relief after tasting his mouth after years of longing, and everything becomes more needy.

Donghyuck grabs at both sides of your head to deepen the kiss, smashing lips together repeatedly and kissing you sloppily. When you allow him to, he pushes his tongue into your mouth and you push your body closer to his.

He grabs your wrist not neglecting your lips even a second, as if the both of you were magnetized, and places his palm on your waist inviting you to his lap. It makes you laugh out of nervousness, so Donghyuck opens his eyes to watch you straddle him and place yourself on top of him very carefully.

His touch travels from your waist to the sides of your torso, his right hand in a place that you're sure allows Donghyuck to feel your increased heart rate. Your hands cradle his neck, then tug at the hair of his nape as he observes you kind of mesmerized, inhaling deeply, smiling a little and wetting his lips before you're diving into each other once again.

You've lost count of the amount of times you've felt Donghyuck's sweet lips on you by now. But you're sure of one thing: you don't want it to be the last.

"In case you were still wondering," he breaks the kiss to talk to you. "I like you, kinda a lot."

His hair is slightly disheveled from all the pulling, his lips are shiny and swollen, and he looks a little agitated. In his incredibly dilated black pupils you can see the reflection of your smile.

"I also like you, Hyuck," you finally confess to him. "I like you like, a huge amount."

He lets out a sigh of relief, more like a scream, and you're quick to cover his mouth reminding him that your brother is supposed to be sleeping five meters away from you. Yet, you can't help but laugh at his reaction.

He presses your foreheads together as his hands caress your sides, from your knees, to your waist, and to your lower back. Both your thumbs stroke his cheeks gently before you move to place some smooches there, in each of Donghyuck's moles (that is all over his face.) You think of all the times you imagined doing exactly that and find it hard to believe there's a possibility you could have Donghyuck any time you want now.

You only have to talk it out and see how things could progress between the two of you in the future. In the meantime, you'll keep smooching the literal personification of the sun (that might be because he feels hot as fuck right now, or because his smile is bright as the sun, or maybe he could be both.)

(Still) Monday, 01:00 p.m.

Donghyuck has had his head over the clouds since last night. After a heavy make-out session with you and some cuddling, he went back to his shared bedroom to sleep at like four a.m., being the most quiet possible to not wake your brother up and maybe having him asking what the hell was Donghyuck doing with you in the living room until four in the morning. He can’t escape the knowing smile Mark gives him though, when he wakes up and sees Donghyuck already up and working at his desk.

Donghyuck pretends everything is normal, greeting Mark good morning as usual.

“Good morning, Melk.”

“You sound too happy,” Mark groans in response, still sitting on his bed only half awake.

Donghyuck checks the time on the corner of his computer; one p.m. during holidays is like eight a.m. to Mark. Your brother just sits there for a while and Donghyuck goes back to studying for amoment, until the silence of the room gets interrupted.

“Yo,” Mark calls to attract Donghyuck’s attention. “What you did last night was fucking nasty.”

“What–” Donghyuck tries asking, only to have Mark interrupting him.

“I heard you two going at it," he starts with a very serious expression that gets Donghyuck's blood completely drained from his face. What could've Mark possibly heard? "My sister was telling you to go slower and everything.'' Mark makes some gagging sounds to add to his point and Donghyuck grows as equally embarrassed and amused at your brother’s assumptions.

“You think we fucked?” Donghyuck asks in complete disbelief. An exaggerated nervous laugh follows the question. “With you in the house?” He points a finger at Mark.

“You didn’t?”

“Sorry to tell you what you heard was us playing Just Dance. The last choreo was too hard and y/n couldn’t follow it.”

Donghyuck watches his best friend rub the sleep off his eyes and get up from the bed while he denies with his head, looking kind of defeated. “You’re both the biggest losers I’ve ever known,” Mark says, referring to you and Donghyuck.

“Hey!” Donghyuck starts to defend himself, his eyes grow bigger as his brows go up, and the characteristic Donghyuck pout starts to show, like in every situation a discussion is involved. “It was fun! We had a good time, ask her.”

“Losers made for each other, I swear.” Mark emphasizes his point. “So you didn’t fuck.”

Donghyuck doesn't look up from his math notes to answer. There's no way in hell he's having this conversation looking at Mark in the face. “By now, I’m sure I might be a virgin again.”

“Dude, what the fuck,” Mark can’t contain a laugh, though. “That’s bad for your health. Get your dick wet already.”

“I’m just waiting for the right time with your sister.”

“Hey! You can’t joke like that anymore.” Donghyuck knows by Mark’s tone all the bickering has become dead-serious now. It has always been like this when it’s about you. First they joke a little about it, then Donghyuck reminds Mark how much he truly likes you, and lastly Mark tells Donghyuck to just confess to you already because he’s tired of hearing about it. “If you’re joking about my sister I’m gonna beat you up.” Mark reminds him.

“Sorry.” This time, Donghyuck is brave enough to face his best friend. It’s kind of hard for Donghyuck to believe it when Mark tells him he’s getting beated up, though, when Mark’s wearing the pajamas Johnny got him as a gift recently–some blue panty with a moose on the back that says ‘don’t moose with me’. “I’m not joking about her.”

“I know.” Mark covers the pajamas that distract his friend so much as he puts on his jeans. “You like each other so much it’s disgusting.”

Donghyuck can’t hide his smile after hearing that, and it reminds him of all the kisses you shared last night, which makes him grow red in the face. Nothing a little more bickering with your brother can’t hide.

“You’re sooo cruel to me, Markie.” Donghyuck tries to hug Mark before he’s leaving the room, but morning Mark has always been like a stray cat who doesn’t like affection (unless it comes from Yuta, which Donghyuck can’t comprehend very well but he supposes the japanese has something pretty magnetic.)

“Get off of me!”

“Only a lil’ kiss, pleaaase!”

They struggle at the door of the room and into the common area. Donghyuck with his lips millimeters from Mark's face while Mark tries with all his might to get away from Donghyuck, who can be like a tick. They're so caught up in their things neither of them has noticed you're there, observing the entire interaction.

“Why don’t you go and kiss y/n? I’m sure she’ll enjoy it,” you hear Mark say when he finally frees himself from Donghyuck.

It’s at this moment that you know you are hearing too much, so you clear your throat to let them know that you are there too. They both freeze after turning around and seeing you sitting at the kitchen island. Your brother Mark, the great opportunist and master at escaping from uncomfortable situations, greets you good morning and is off to work in a second, leaving you and Donghyuck alone in the apartment.

You watch Donghyuck get closer to where you’re sitting. He hasn’t changed from his sleeping shorts and the hoodie he was wearing last night–the same hoodie you pulled on as you kissed in the same mattress laying meters behind him. Yet you don’t know how to describe the sensation you’re feeling right now. After seeing the boy you like the most fighting your brother for a kiss, your stomach feels… weird? You know the kind of relationship they have–they’re best friends, they bicker and fight and make up all the time. They live based on Donghyuck love-bombing Mark and Mark denying the affection all the time. But they love each other in a brotherly way, it has always been like that.

It’s not like you expected Donghyuck to want to hug and kiss you and only you after what happened last night, but you kind of did expect it.

Were you jealous of Donghyuck’s best friend, your own brother Mark?

Donghyuck looks at you confused when you don't accept his hug right away. You stop his arms midway, and his eyes look defeated, full of worry. “Did something happen?”

You deny with your head. “I don’t know, that kind of felt weird,” you confess to him.

Donghyuck caresses your arms, feeling you relax from the defensive attitude from before, until he gets your hands together. “What felt weird?”

It’s ridiculous, you know it is and you’re embarrassed about what you’re about to say. Yet, you can’t help but:

“I think I got jealous,” you say and watch his brows furrowed together. “You know, when you were trying to kiss Mark…”

Donghyuck only bursts out laughing and hugs you tightly against his chest, leaving you no time to escape the sudden affection. He smells like fabric softener and feels comfortable like a pillow. And you hate that you love the way his laugh resonates through your entire body when he presses you to himself like that.

“You know I never want to kiss Mark seriously, right? That I only do it ‘cause I know he hates it,” he explains once he’s separated from you, still holding your hands in his and looking you in the eyes. “I don’t want to kiss anyone the way I want to kiss you.”

You look down hiding your smile, thinking he’s cute at first and processing his words then, which makes you laugh a little. Donghyuck realizes right away and starts to laugh too, leaving the seriousness behind.

“Was that too much?” He asks.

You nod in response. “But it’s good to know.”

“Good,” he says before planting a kiss on your cheek. He’s only millimeters away from your face when he speaks again. “No need to be jealous then.”

Donghyuck turns you around on the chair, so your back is pressing against the island and he can stand comfortably between your legs. He starts as he did last night, planting a kiss on your knuckles, then your wrist, but you don’t wanna waste any more time so you free yourself from his hands and start cradling his face. His lips look as tempting as always, maybe even more after you tasted them for the first time.

He notices your look so he gives you a lopsided, attractive smile that you desperately wanna rip off his face.

“How can you look this handsome in the morning?” You ask, admiring all his features.

“I mean, technically it’s past the morning.” he answers in a cocky tone.

“Shut up already.”

You don’t give him time to fight back as you’re sealing his lips with a kiss. It’s slow but deep, and his skin feels warm and soft under your fingertips, all the way from his sharp jaw to his cheekbones. When he bites your lip a little bit to get full access to your mouth, you worry about the breakfast you were having minutes ago, but Donghyuck doesn’t seem to mind:

“Mhmm,” he hums, breaking apart and licking his lips. “You taste like maple syrup.” And he steals another quick kiss from you.

“Yeah,” you say as you turn around to face the kitchen island again. “‘Cause you interrupted my breakfast.”

But despite you showing your back to him and trying to finish your food, Donghyuck won’t let you eat in peace. “Oh yeah,” he murmurs against the skin of your neck after he moves your hair to your left shoulder. He plants a soft kiss on your right side, sending shivers down your spine and making it hard to concentrate on your task. “I’m sooo sorry I interrupted you.” His tone is full of sarcasm as his kisses travel to your jaw and all the way down again. “And you hated it sooo much.”

The metallic sound of your fork falling off your hand and hitting the plate startles the both of you. Donghyuck stops sucking on your neck and you fall out of your trance. Your startled face might be somewhat funny, because Donghyuck starts giggling as you both realize you were enjoying his kisses a little too much.

“Let’s go on a date.”

“All of a sudden?”

He nods with a smile on his face. “It’s your last day here tomorrow. It’s not like we won’t see each other anymore but… I want to take you out before your last day here.”

“Okay,” you agree, matching his smile.

“Okay?” He asks once more and sighs contentedly when you nod your head yes. “I’ll go plan everything. Make sure you’re all mine this afternoon!” And he leaves the room after kissing your right cheek.

(The busiest) Monday, 07:37 p.m.

“Hyuck, come on, there’s seriously no way of winning with those machines.”

“Babe, just one more try. I wanna get something for you.”

Donghyuck has been fighting against a claw machine for what felt like half an hour now. Since none of you weren’t able to win any of the games you tried at the carnival, you really appreciate his determination to win a prize for you this way. Yet you arrived here at five p.m., and after two rounds of bumper cars, after testing your strength at Ring the Bell (and both of you failing embarrassingly), riding the teacups, getting scared to death in the haunted house, and going twice into the Ferris wheel (one time for the sightseeing and pics and another time for kissing at the top of it) your stomach growls with hunger.

“We could’ve paid dinner with all the money you spent on this machine-”

“Wait, I’m about to get it!”

“Let’s just go get dinner.”

“But I’m about to get it!”

And you see it forreal this time: the claw holding a big Pochacco plushie and it falling right into the hole.

“Hyuck, you got it!” You scream in disbelief, a big smile taking over your face (maybe because of the cute plushie or maybe because it meant you were finally going to have some food.)

You watch Donghyuck lose his arm through the hatch and get it back, this time with the stuffed animal in his hand. When he’s presenting it in front of you, the stuffed animal is so big that it blocks your view. You admire it for a second, and then take it into your arms to discover a Donghyuck wearing the biggest smile you've seen in a while. He’s all cozied up, his jacket and stuffed hat making him look like a real life teddy bear. Even so, the cold of the winter has caused the tip of his nose and his cheeks to turn red, somehow making him look even cuter.

“I got it for you!” He says, the excitement not leaving his body even for a second.

You can’t contain yourself and, as an impulse, grab him from the jacket with your free hand and pull forward until your lips are meeting his. Just a short peck as a way of saying thank you, I love it (you.)

Neither of you realizes the little crowd you've drawn around the machines, not until you hear the applause and cheering as you're breaking away from your kiss. You’ve never seen Donghyuck get shy when drawing people’s attention, so this might be your first time noticing him trying to hide under his hat and into your embrace. You laugh it off even when you're equally embarrassed, but thank him for the plushie and tell him to run away from there to get dinner.

—

“I think I’ve liked you from the start,” Donghyuck confesses all of a sudden.

Well, maybe not so all of a sudden. While you two were having your dinner, bottle of beer came after bottle of beer. At some point of the night, you thought it was a good idea to start having soju. Donghyuck said something like “it’s our last night together, we should celebrate and get wasted” to justify your decision. So it may be the full stomachs and the alcohol making you be honest with each other.

“I know I’ve liked you from the start.”

“Aaall the guys knew too…” He slurs his words a little when speaking. “I wouldn't shut up about you.”

You can't hide your drunken, enamored smile when hearing him. But something makes a little noise inside your head. “All the guys knew?” You ask and he nods quickly. “Even Mark?”

“Even Mark,” Donghyuck confirms. “I mean, we always kind of had this joke going around that I was always waiting for you.” He pours himself another drink. “But we both knew it wasn't a joke.”

“Oh god.” You cover your face, embarrassed. “My own brother lied to me,” you say and Donghyuck makes a confused sound, which makes you keep explaining. “He pretended to know nothing about your feelings when I confessed to him that I liked you.”

“I asked him not to say anything.”

“Huh?”

“I wanted to tell you myself how much I like you.”

“Oh god,” it's all you can repeat right now, all these confessions and the alcohol making you grow hot everywhere. “It's so hot inside this restaurant,” you say as you take your jacket off.

Donghyuck knows the red on your cheeks isn't only because of the heat inside the place.

“I like you sooo much,” he says as he watches you giggle out of nervousness. Donghyuck calls your name and holds your hand over the table to try to get you to look at him, but you only giggle and hide your face with your other hand. “I'm in love with you!”

“Okay, okay!” You're laughing by now, trying to cover his mouth to shut him up and not attract everyone's attention like you did at the carnival. “I'm in love with you too!”

“Good,” he says with an extremely pleased smile, that one that has always attracted you to him so much.

“Good?” you repeat and he nods.

Your phone screen lights up showing it's Mark calling you. You silently tell Donghyuck you're picking up and he lets go of your hand for you to do so.

“Yes?”

“Yo,” you hear Mark answer from the other side. “We're at Yuta's right now, we're working on some music with Taeil and TY so I think I'm just gonna crash here tonight.”

“Uhm, are you sure you don't wanna go back?” You ask and make eye contact with Donghyuck, who narrows his eyes and tilts his head to the side after your question. You only shrug to him as a response.

“Nah, I'll leave the apartment for the two of you so make good use of it.” Your brother answers convincingly.

“Okay, I'll see you in the morning.”

“All right bet, see you in the morning.” And he's quick to hang up.

You take the phone off your ear and look at it confused for a bit, until Donghyuck breaks the silence. “Everything all right with Mark?”

“Yeah,” you say as you put the phone down. “He said he's not going back home tonight.”

“Oh.”

You think of the words your brother said. “Leaving the apartment for the two of you,” and “making good use of it,” and it hits you. A little bit late, but it hits you.

“Oh…” you repeat, a surprised expression now taking over your face.

“Yeah, oh!” Donghyuck agrees. “We're having a real sleepover tonight!”

But by the excitement in Donghyuck's face, the one a little kid would show when told he's sleeping at a friend's, you aren't convinced he thought the same way you and Mark did.

(The last day at your brother's) Tuesday, 09:12 a.m.

The next morning, you wake up pretty confused. When you open your eyes, you're not sleeping at your usual spot. Your surroundings look very different from the living room where you've been sleeping every night. To your right, you spot Donghyuck's desk, filled with physics books, a pile of comics, and the typical empty Red Bull cans. The mattress also feels incredibly comfortable, soft but firm under you. But the most strange thing is the weight over your body, and a cologne you know very well and like very much flooding your senses. That's when you realize Donghyuck is laying all over you, stretched like a starfish.

You laugh and struggle to take your arms under him, and when you wrap them around the boy over you and squeeze, he starts to laugh too.

"Are the curtains open?" You ask in a voice still full of sleep.

He moves his head up to catch the smile on your face. "No?"

"Then why is the sun so bright in my face?"

The smile spreads on his face and he plants a chaste kiss on your lips. "You're so fucking cheesy." And he kisses you again.

“Get off,” you try to move him from over your face and your body. “I haven’t washed my mouth.”

“I don’t care,” he says, finally moving and sitting at the side of his bed, where you’re still laying in. “I’m not missing a chance to kiss you.”

“You’re sooo fucking cheesy,” you repeat his words.

“And you like me sooo much.” Donghyuck moves to the nightstand and grabs an aspirin and a can of Red Bull and brings them to your mouth. “Take, it’ll make you feel better after all we had last night.”

You sit up a little on the bed to do what he told you, and once you've swallowed the aspirin you let yourself fall back against his pillow. Donghyuck is still sitting on the edge of the bed, exchanging glances with you and holding your hand lovingly. He's wearing the Michael Jackson t-shirt that he likes so much and he's wearing his messy hair, just as you left it after pulling, fixing and messing it up while you kissed him countless times the night before.

You’re leaving today, and it’s like all the feelings you’ve accumulated these past years are hitting right now, all at once.

“I wish I could wake up like this everyday.”

“Hungover?”

“No, not hungover,” you laugh at his question. “With you.”

He smiles and squeezes your hand reassuringly. “We’ll figure it out.”

You sit up in the bed and search for the energy drink on the nightstand. After a few drinks, you’ve figured the morning breath can’t be so bad, so you move to face him properly and grab his face for a real kiss. Donghyuck doesn’t take long to reciprocate and start caressing your entire body. He’s always the first one to take the kisses to other places, so you take the lead this time. You discovered last night that Donghyuck can’t resist the kisses on his neck. You start placing soft kisses, then some licks until you suck a little and he fails to suppress a moan. He laughs it off and calls your name.

“I want to ask something important,” he says, looking you dead-serious in the eyes now, all the jokes and the desire aside. After you nod in response, telling he has your attention, he takes a big breath of courage. “It may seem a little rushed, but after all we’ve shared these years and after this week we’ve spent together, I don’t want you to leave without asking you to go out with me.”

You feel the temperature increase throughout your skin. Is he finally asking you to…

“Be my girlfriend?” As if he knew you from inside and out, he finishes your thoughts out loud.

Temperature reaches your face as well as probably the biggest smile you’ve worn since you got here. You cradle his face, squeeze his cheeks with your hands until a pout is showing and you can’t help but laugh—out of nervousness but also out of happiness, from having the sun in your hands and all for yourself.

“Lee Donghyuck,” you start. “That’d make me the happiest in the world, in the universe.”

“You’re sooo cheesy!” He starts the bickering once again, yet he’s sealing your deal with a kiss on your smile and, of course, you’re returning the affection.

(Later that) Tuesday, 03:30 p.m.

You’re standing in the building’s hallway while your brother struggles to lock the door to the 12-7 apartment. Donghyuck is patiently holding your suitcase, waiting for Mark to be done. They’re going to accompany you to the bus stop that’s coming at four p.m. so you can finally go home to the rest of your family and your normal life—you’ll be back studying and working in a few days, after spending Christmas with the family and Donghyuck, who promised to be there to join the Christmas lunch at your home and—maybe, if he doesn’t chicken out—present himself as your boyfriend to your parents.

“We need to change the door lock before y/n moves in here,” Mark says after finally locking it.

“What?” Donghyuck and you ask in unison. “Moving here?”

“You’re not moving in with Donghyuck? I thought I’d finally be free from him,” your brother answers, kind of disappointed, but not as disappointed as Donghyuck after noticing how bad your brother wants him out.

“But where will you go?” You ask him.

“I made plans to share the floor with Yuta.”

“That motherfucking japanese!” Donghyuck screams following Mark down the hallway, and you palm his back trying to reassure him, but your boyfriend won’t calm down. “I swear he wants to steal my best friend from me! He’s so jealous of my life!”

“What would he be jealous of, Donghyuck?” Your brother asks tiredly, and you know he’s rolling his eyes even if all you see is his back opening the building’s front door.

“Of our last-longing, incredibly unique friendship, of-fucking-course!” Donghyuck answers like it’s obvious.

“I’m pretty sure you just kept this friendship to get with my sister.”

“Mark?! That’s not true. I love you, man. Mark-Mark, come on!”

taglist: @matchahyuck @sundamariis @thesunsfullmoon @babyjenono @chenfleur @bettyschwallocksyee @sundhaelatte @injunier @justalildumpling @lanadreamie @dhyucktopia @143rachafm @minkyuncutie @bbh-kji @minhosprettywife

#haechan #haechan x reader #nct fanfic #donghyuck x reader #haechan fluff #lee donghyuck x reader #zh-lele

441 notes · View notes

haza1ll · 5 months ago

Text

animation for THE NEON VOIDD BABYYYY

this post is for @sugarpasteltmnt

‼️‼️MEGA YAPPING AHEAD PLEASE BEWARE‼️‼️

this might end up being really long and rambly and sappy but maybe not who knows.( it was) (and also featuring numerous spelling errors i am way too tired to fix and i am not re reading what i just wrote) SO. yknow how when chap idek..25(?) came out and i was all like “yeah so i made this animation for TNV and ill drop it when the fic ends” in your ask box? so. I FINISHED IT RAHHH. technically it has been finished since i sent that ask but ohhh my goodness did it need polishing. i haven’t animated in 4 years before that and omg it felt so good getting back into it but IDFK SOMETHING IS STILL NOT UP TO MY STANDARDS. i feel like i could have done so much more with it and i deffo wanted to but as soon as i told myself “oh yeah this is basically done” art block literally sucker punched me in the gut out of NOWHERE. I COULD NOT PICK UP MY I PAD. I COULD NOT DRAW. I WOULD STARE AT THE WIP ANIMATION AND BE UPSET BC I DDINT WANNA WORK ON IT AHH. that goes with saying. i kept having this thought in the back of my head “you need to finish it. you have a wip sitting. finish it. go do it. what are you doing are you STARTING ANOTHER PROJECT??? anddd yeah i got super distracted with other stuff and other projects and then i started spending my free time rewatching 2012 turtles and omg this summer has been a mess. i have all the free time in the world and i choose to be the least productive as possible with it even though i have a job that lets me literally sit on my phone and do whatever i want if no one is there. (i’ve brought my switch to work numerous times ☠️) what i was trying to get at is the fact that TNV has inspired a lot of the old me to come back and i lowk missed her. i really missed the point in all those words up there but im here now so whatever. BUT. TNV made me make a tumblr account, i got back in to animation AND digital art in general, got back into longfics that are ongoing, AND it also helped kickstart ideas for writing. i’ve got so many stories now!! you are such an inspirational person pastels i just- every time i read a new chapter of yours it made me wanna go get up and do something. i wanted to create something. because at the end of each chapter, i would think- “woah. a person out there just wrote this. they just sat down one day and committed. i wanna do that” so i did that. just huge thank you and shoutout to you pastel. like damn. idk no words from me here. just a bunch of platonic hugs and kisses and thankyouthankyouthsnkuou for this lovely heart wrenching but also sweet story. i love this fandom (tmnt) so SO much and i think it’s so awesome how interactive you are with your own personal NV fans. crazy how we’re all here because of a bunch of turtles.

STUFF ABOUT THE ANIMATION:

okay i really like to talk and if you let me, i will run my mouth. this is the internet so im gonna do just that. so more words for you to read 😁. AHEM. so like i stated before in the genuinely scary mess of words up there, i haven’t touched animation in a while, like, 4 years a while. yes i’ve done digital art here and there along the years, i haven’t been doing it nearly as much as i need to to use some programs to their full potential. layers are still confusing, and don’t even get me started on multiply and all that jazz. shading never comes out right on digital for me, i gotta work that one out. so, for this animation, i decided to go with a very rough style. nothing needed to be perfect, i just wanted to live my little life of trying to experiment with a bunch of different things all at once in one short animatic. I wanted to do that little ball bounce thing all animation artists start with (i kinda included that with the key). i also wanted to have a go at lip sync (no hate it was my first time) and also timing the animation with the music. i wanted to see how smoothly i could move a figure in and out of and out of the screen as well, which honestly, i think that part might be my favorite. i think i did a good job, and thats what matters. the animation itself lost a bunch of quality on importing it- no clue how it happened but now the ending is grainy af. ignore that pls lol- but it was sitting in my flipaclip for god, i dont even know, 3 months now? i kept going back and forth on if i wanted to share it or not, so im throwing it to the wolves and i guess whatrver happrns happens and im good with that. yay. im actually rrwlly tired now sooo *leaves this absolute pile of words with a video attached at your feet and stumbles away quickly*

also i’ve genuinely never posted anything so i’m learning how to use tumblr too ☠️

#rottmnt leo #rottmnt fanfiction #the neon void #neon void #rottmnt #animation #literally sos what are tags #is this like ao3 or something brother what do i do #PLEASR HELP #rise leo #fanimation #little goober guy #digital art #??? idk

165 notes · View notes

phyrestartr · 5 months ago

Text

Rhubarb | Zagreus x M!Reader (WIP!!)

#SFW, reader is a daimon, ik nymphs can't be male but let me have this!!!, reader tends to persephone's decayed garden, hurt/comfort, lots of fluff, COURTING!!!!!

“You wouldn't happen to be the one gifting me all these flowers, would you?” Zagreus asked.

You cleared your throat as you scrambled for an excuse, a reason, an explanation to give the godling–it didn't feel right to outwardly admit to it (Gods, that'd be embarrassing), and you couldn't find it in you to turn the prince away; if you did that, what would be the point of your bashful little gifts? You wanted to show support, you wanted to try and embolden him when few else would.

But still–

You tucked some hair behind your pointed ear and cleared your throat once more, never ripping your gaze away from the flowerbeds to look at your opponent. Nope. You wouldn't do it. You couldn't or you'd die on the spot (again).

“I beg pardon?” You asked, willing your earth magicks to replace that which had withered in the garden.

You swore you heard him smile. “Those flowers, the ones in my chambers? The ones that renew every night, or–or day, or what have you.” His cindered footsteps ventured closer to you. “Surely you must have some idea.”

“I'm afraid I don't, Prince,” you hummed, stepping away as he followed. “But I can keep an eye open, if you so wish.”

“Oh, come on. Do you really think you'll be punished for giving me a flower or two?” Zagreus asked.

“Everything can be punished in this house. Anything in regards to the runaway prince, even more so.” And that was true. You'd heard of Megaera and Thanatos being promptly admonished for their inability to stop Zagreus, or their blatant refusal to even try to stop him. Most didn't give Zagreus the time of day. What would you, a mere shade, say in your defense if the lord of the underworld found out about the simple fondness you felt for the prince?

Before you could linger on that dread for too long, a hand caught your wrist, stopping your further retreat. It wasn't painful, nor did it frighten you–but it was odd. So, so odd. You'd not felt the warmth of another for decades. It reminded you of a warm summer's day.

“Look, I–I just want to thank you,” Zagreus said, sounding far too flustered and honest. You couldn't help but turn to him and meet his mismatched gaze, finally.

“Thank me?” You said, dumbstruck. A little because of the brilliant emerald and ruby eyes staring down at you, a little because of his words.

The prince nodded. He didn't release your wrist. “Is that so unbelievable?” He asked with a smile.

“Not when it comes to you, no.” Your face heated, but you kept your composure calm and collected. “Well. You're, uh, free to speak. If you wish.”

“Thank you,” he said, not hesitating the slightest bit, “For taking the time to…well, think of me, I suppose. These days, it feels like everyone's against me, so the flowers, they--they're a welcome sight.”

His smile melted your faux frigid expression, and you let the slightest hint of gentility peek through. “I worried they'd be a nuisance.”

“A nuisance?” Zagreus balked. “No, no, anything but. It's what keeps me going most days, if I'm being honest.”

You raised your brows, despite a smile not following. “Well, that's depressing. To think few others are cheering you on brings a tear to the eye.”

The prince snorted. “Huh. Never knew gardeners could be the sarcastic type.”

“Seems you haven't met enough gardeners, then.” You clasped your hand over the one holding your wrist. “Truthfully, I don't understand the extent of your quest, but I've no doubt you'll succeed. I wish you to know that I've full faith in you.”

Zagreus’ energy surged tenfold. His smile nearly blinded you, he who had become so used to the dark, and his eyes gleamed like polished gems. Cerberus probably bore the same look when he was a pup, you figured. Did he play tug with the prince back in the day? Probably. Or fetch, perhaps.

“Really?” The prince asked, now holding both of your hands in his and squeezing. “You think so?”

You swallowed away your shock at being touched again and stared hard at the spot between the prince's eyes. “Well, yes--you're like rhubarb.”

He leaned toward you, leaning down and welcoming himself into your personal bubble. “I've not the slightest idea what you mean, but I'm eager to know.��

You almost smiled. Almost. But you wouldn't let him win, not that easily.

“Once you accomplish your goal, perhaps I'll tell you.”

#male reader insert #male reader #zagreus x reader #zag x reader #zagreus hades x reader #zagreus hades game x you #hades game reader insert #hades game x reader

133 notes · View notes

the-kr8tor · 25 days ago

Note

👀🤣 may I request a Christmas fic where one/both the twins see R kissing Santa Claus (but it’s actually Hobie dressed as him) and they start an all out war against Santa? Can’t stop laughing my ass off from this idea

- 😅 (@hyperfix-wip )

Hehehe thank you for the cutest prompt!! I've always wanted to write this trope 😘❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 2k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Dad! Hobie, mom! Reader, Billie and Ramona AU, twin AU, cw food mentions, fluff!

Navigation

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Billie wakes up with a start, heart pounding in her ears from the sudden wake up call. “What—?!” Her mouth is covered by a familiar hand, silencing her yell. “Mmhm?!” Eyes wide, she hones in on her twin’s face in the dark of their shared room. Save for the light flooding inside from the cracked open door, and their Spider-Man night light, it's pitch black.

“It's me!” Ramona whisper yells, front tooth still missing after she lost it in the playground. “Someone's downstairs. I think it's him!” Her eyes shine with excitement, curls bobbing up and down as she tries to contain her giddiness.

Billie yanks her sister's hand away, frowning at her from the sudden intrusion. “I was having a good dream, Mon.” Her look reminds Mona of her dad's exact expression when he has to mow the lawn again.

Mona ignores her sister's annoyance, “didn't you hear what I said? Santa's ‘ere! At our house!” She whisper yells again, this time loud enough for whoever's downstairs to pause their movements. Her eyes widened, hands covering her mouth to tamp down her excitement. “We should stay quiet—”

“Santa's ‘ere!” Billie is quieted once again by Mona's hands.

After waiting for a minute, the girls slowly and silently go outside of their room, matching holiday socks softly walking across the polished floorboards. Their pajamas are also on theme, with Mona opting for a pink sugar plum fairy matching set, and Billie wearing the classic Santa Clause set. Both that you've lovingly made for them. They're clearly excited, especially when it comes to the big bearded man in red. Billie more especially, after you and Hobie brought them to a local mall to see Santa and for them to give them their wishlist, she's been raving about wanting to stay up to catch him in the act. But after watching home alone and having a belly full of warm milk, she went out like a light. Mona on the other hand wants to see him eat the cookies you two prepared for Santa. It's her favourite, chocolate chips with marshmallows. She's hoping that the big man would like it, especially that she gave him the batch from her personal stash.

As they walk out of the hallway and into the floors of the second floor landing, they start to crawl once they see shadows dance along the walls of the living room. The tree that the four of you lovingly put up and decorated are twinkling with the holiday lights, reds, greens and yellows blinking in and out of the room.

“Do you think they'll like it?” They hear your familiar voice, whispering downstairs.

The girls make it to the stairs that overlook the living room, they make themselves smaller by lying prone on the cold floor, tiny hands grasping at the bannisters. Their eyes widen at the sight of who you are talking to.

Right next to you is the man of the hour himself, dressed in red with a giant sack of presents right next to him. He's taller than they've expected, and slimmer. Maybe Santa's cutting back on the cookies.

Billie grabs Mona's shoulder, shaking her excitedly. They wordlessly communicate through looks, based on their happy expressions, they feel like the luckiest kids in the world. They continue to watch Santa work his magic as he places wrapped presents underneath the tree with their names written on them.

“I know they'll love ‘em. ‘sides, Mona's been askin’ for it since July.” Santa replies to you, brown eyes shining in the string lights. His eyes seem to smile at you sitting in the corner of the room, hand occupied with a warm cup of eggnog. The bottom half of Santa's face is obscured by his big white beard, but he's clearly smiling softly at you. “And Bee always wanted that moon lamp ever since she saw Gwen's.”

Beaming at jolly Nick, you leave your cup on the coffee table to walk over to him. “I know, but what if they suddenly don't want those anymore.”

Santa stretches his hand out to you, beckoning you closer as he abandons the sack of presents on the floor. “Love,” love? The girls look at eachother with furrowed brows. Only their dad calls you that, and maybe occasionally that one shop owner downtown that you always buy fabrics from. “Y’know the girls would still be happy even if we gave them a potato each.”

You come to his side without saying anything about the close proximity to the actual Santa. The girls narrow their eyes at Santa's glove hand splayed across the small of your back, thumb rubbing gently across your soft pajama shirt. Only their dad gets to hold you like that.

Chuckling, you move to half hug him, arm wrapped around his back while you place your chin atop the soft red jacket. “Why a potato?”

“Because they go wild for chips.” He looks at you through gentle eyes, nudging his forehead on top of your own, the faux fur of his hat is soft against your skin.

“That's true, maybe we should've gotten them a whole sack of potatoes instead.” Your grin has the girls worried, especially when you move closer to him that the girls would know that it would have their dad burst into tears if they ever saw the scene in front of him.

“That's why ‘m santa, lovie.”

“Mm-hmm,” now you fully embrace him. The girls share a heavy look. “Why are you in full get up again? They won't be able to see you in this, not while they're snoring away all the cookies they had.”

“I know,” he shrugs, “what if they wake up, it'll be a nice memory for ‘em.” His arm squeezes you, hand dangerously close to your behind. The twins are both pissed, standing up from their place atop the stairs. “Or, ‘m all dressed up for you, love.” Santa winks at you, and you giggle in his arms. “Give big red a kiss, yeah?” As he leans in, the twins run downstairs swiftly, yelling and screaming at him to let their mum go.

“What— girls!” You move away, arms trying to block their attacks from hitting Santa.

“Not our mum!” Billie makes it to him first, clinging herself on his leg, trying to bite him through his red pants.

“We trusted you, Santa!” Mona leaps to punch at his stomach, earning a pained groan from the bearded man.

“Mona, no!” You grab her by the armpits as she continues to flail around, trying to get another hit. Good thing you’ve gotten to her before she aimed at his crotch. “Baby, no, that's—!” You contemplate telling them the truth, but Hobie's subtle head shake has you clamping down and embracing Mona.

“Ow, fuc–fudge!” Hobie hops around the room, trying to wiggle free of Billie, who's still clutching at his leg. “Billie, stop!” The one time that his spidey senses failed him.

“I don't care if ‘m on the naughty list! You tried to kiss our mum!” She chomps down on his leg, and he yelps when her baby teeth sink into the fabric and into his leg.

Hobie has no choice but to grab Billie the same way you did with Mona. He holds her in front of him, an arm's length away, still trying to take a chunk out of him. He feels like he ruined the magic of Santa for them. Not to mention the song.

“Stop–!” Hobie holds out his hand to her to tell her that he means no harm, but she tries to bite at his finger. “Billie—!”

“Daddy!” Ramona screams out, voice echoing and rumbling the house. “Daddy, there's an– an impruder!”

You would've chuckled at her fumbled pronunciation of intruder and told her the right way to say it, but when she's on the verge of tears; the both of them are, you have to think of a solution.

“Daddy!” Billie joins in, now fully sobbing. “H–He kissed mummy!”

“I haven't! Not yet!” Hobie tries to defend himself, or Santa for that matter. But it makes the whole thing so much worse when Billie wiggles herself out of his grasp to run towards yours and Hobie's bedroom while crying for him. “Shi—!”

You meet with his eyes while embracing a crying Mona. Mouthing a ‘Go!’ He immediately knows what you're up to. Your synergy levels with him are off the charts.

He leaves through the window, snow crunching underneath him and almost freezing him in the spot. He slowly rips off the Santa outfit one by one whilst he makes his way towards the back of the house. Shedding the beard and tossing it haphazardly in the backyard, he crawls on the wall, finally making it to the bedroom window just as when Billie opens the door with a loud creak.

Feigning naiveté, he acts shocked at her weeping as he opens his arms to her. “What happened?” She sobs on his sleep shirt, drenching it with tears. As Hobie pats her back, he realises that he's still wearing the gloves which he promptly throws away and under the bed before she could see it. “C’mon, mac, tell dad.” He cups her wet cheeks, trying to calm his little girl down.

“I saw mummy kissing Santa Claus!”

Hearing Mona's cry in the doorway with you carrying her, he knows that you two have a long night ahead of you.

—

“Are you sure you want to change pajamas, Billie? You said it's your favourite. The red suits you—” You try to placate her with a plate of chocolate pancakes.

“Yes.” She says so surely with her arms crossed over her chest, still fuming. “I hate Santa.”

Hobie's sitting right next to Mona, hand rubbing along her back whilst she stares angrily at the empty plate of cookies she left for Santa sitting on the counter. “Me too.” She huffs, stabbing her pancakes with a fork.

You share a look with Hobie, hoping that he has any idea how to calm them down. Hugging Billie seems to tamp down her anger, but she still looks at you with furrowed brows after you've apologized profusely.

“Why did you kiss, Santa?” She asked a few hours ago, stomping her little foot down on your bedroom floor, while her sister followed her lead.

“I didn't!” You stared at Hobie right next to you on the bed, looking like he's about to burst into laughter but is keeping it in. “And I wasn't gonna!”

After that whole ordeal, they seem to simmer down to a silent anger that still reverberates through the house. Maybe opening the presents earlier would make them forget it and make them smile.

“We should make signs, Bee! Like what dad makes so Santa knows not to come back ‘ere!” Mona lights up, you finally got a smile out of her.

“That's brilliant!” Hobie plays along, and Billie agrees with rapid nodding that you had to stop with your hand on her forehead before she breaks something. “I'll get my supplies, you two go finish your pancakes, yeah?” Just as he says it, they scarf down the pancakes, prompting Hobie to grab your hand and speed walk away from the kitchen.

Once the two of you are out of earshot and their sights, he corners you against a wall, hands cradling your cheeks, and sighing as he relaxes atop you.

You laugh against his hair, pressing lazy kisses on his hairline. “Don't forget to grab the outfit outside, Hobie. I made that to tailor you and you only.”

He lifts his head up from your chest, cheeks puffed out from sleepiness. Blowing out air, you giggle at him as he flutters your lashes. “I know, love.” His eyes roam all over your face, looking at every curve and dip until he stops at your lips. “I still haven't gotten my answer.”

“Or what? You'll put me on the naughty list?”

Hobie leans closer, lips brushing along your waiting lips. “Lovie, you're on my list every year.”

“I hope I'm the only one on it.” You say, wordlessly inviting him for a kiss by pecking his jaw softly.

“You and you only.” With a chuckle atop your lips, he kisses you under the mistletoe he subtly put up with the sole purpose of kissing you underneath it.

139 notes · View notes