#too much time on my hands results in too much thinking

[heegyukeluv]

cross the line (lhs)

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

synopsis: “How do you know if someone is flirting with you?”  It was Heeseung’s question to you, and you were left with no option other than to show how you do it.

my's note: this is from an old prompt i had. nothing much, just some fluff and highkey desperate (and long) smut... and bestfriends to lovers 🤭i feel like i lost the plot while i was writing it, but yeah! hope y'all enjoy it

warnings: childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, kinda miscomunication?, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!!), desperate hee (in many ways lol), hee is sensitive and edges himself, very slooooow and unnecessarily detailed smut, reader is not a virgin but it's her second time!! / lmk if i missed something!

wc: 14,5k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers, @ikeuverse, @tinycatharsis

“How do you know if someone is flirting with you?”

The question lingered in the air longer than Heeseung expected, but he wouldn’t blame you at all.

It was a quiet, calm Saturday afternoon. None of you had work to do or studies to draw your energy. While your back lazily rested on your couch’s armrest with your legs propped up in a triangle, Heeseung was laid on the ground after blaming the couch’s fabric for being too heated for his skin, his head opposite to yours. 

Far enough to miss your instant confused expression. 

“Huh?” You murmured with a frown, trying to figure out if you heard it correctly before diverting your attention from your phone to catch a glimpse of Heeseung’s plain eyes looking up at the ceiling. 

He had shifted his position to a relaxed one with a hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, the quiet motion of up and down following his gentle breathing. It could easily soothe your nerves to watch him serenely exist like that in the world, an opposite to his normally chaotic and teasing demeanor. 

“How do you know if someone is flirting with you?” Heeseung repeated his question once again, and you were sure now you had heard it right. It didn’t make you less puzzled though. “Like, I think I struggle to recognize what’s just a normal interaction and what’s a flirt.”

Your eyebrows were sky high as you skeptically eyed Heeseung, not believing a single word coming out of his mouth as your body stiffed a little. 

Growing up together as friends was just a quarter of your story with Heeseung.

Your moms were the typical best friends that surprisingly gave birth around the same time, resulting in you and Heeseung becoming as close as siblings due to your families proximity, although the thought of being Heeseung’s sister haunted the depths of your mind terribly nowadays.

Of course you wouldn’t mind being considered in that position when you were younger; Heeseung annoying ass bothering you all the time with the subtle hair pulls under the excuse of trying to grab your attention, or poking your sides to start a little fight that he always won, or the times he simply feigned to go for a whisper as in telling you a secret just to blow air in your ear and elicit a scream from you, were a huge behaviors proof he had somewhat sibling energy.

Your constant smacks on his shoulders and chest, along with your not-so-gentle bites on his arms, and your giggles whenever you pranked him by tossing flour at his direction when cooking together worked well to establish a strong base to that idea.

However, as you both started to grow up, things changed accordingly to your ages.

You were expectedly very comfortable around each other, and the touches once aiming to bother, switched to casual, caring ones, still having a faint of that light-hearted taunt.

Heeseung would often be seen removing an eyelash from your cheek, his fingertips brushing against your skin softly as you kept talking normally.

Or intertwining your hands when going back from school, so you wouldn’t fall whenever you tripped – and you did quite regularly.

Or, when you sat together, Heeseung would make sure to have your thighs resting on his lap so he could settle his warm hands on top of it, casually caressing your skin while watching whatever you choose to. 

It was great and heartwarming to have him like that, taking care of you even with the slightest teasing alongside genuine intentions – Heeseung struggled to demonstrate his feelings openly, so giving you princess-like treatment with a hint of his usual playful banter was his way to show how much he loved you.

Eventually, puberty hit him, and hit undoubtedly hard. 

The little kid who used to follow you around just to annoy had become the taller, handsome, and effortlessly cool teenager, surrounded by friends and making girls squeal over even the slightest interaction with him, leaving you to wonder when everything had changed that much.

You didn’t expect Heeseung to keep being friends with you the way he was before as time passed, but surprisingly he would often be choosing you over the others, such as hanging out during lunch time with you, doing his schoolworks only with you, spending a part of his pocket money with sweets for you and taking you home everyday – you lived near to each other, nonetheless he would always guide you to your door’s porch before kissing your forehead and saying his farewell. 

At some point you realized your body was reacting similarly to how girls who had a crush on Heeseung would describe when he was around; an urge to scream and giggle just because he smiled, heart pounding hard in your chest after watching him slicking back his sweaty hair while playing basketball with the boys, hands trembling with the thought of being alone for too long with him in your room.

You were starting to act awkward, your hormones messing with your head enough to leave you scared as shit, questioning what you and Heeseung were, because the definition of friendship wasn’t making any sense, seemed lacking, insufficient for what you truly, wholeheartedly wanted from Heeseung.

So your most sane decision at the time was to push him towards other girls randomly, sharing how much in love a friend of yours was with him and how worthy, pretty and intelligent she was. Or how the cheerleader’s leader would fit him perfectly and they would become the school’s model couple.

The sting in your heart was tough to deal with when he started to pick up some of your ideas and openly flirt with the said girls, sharing each step with you how friends constantly did, but you would one hundred percent rather to handle the pain of never having Heeseung as your boyfriend than the hurtful thought of losing him for good.

Then Heeseung started dating, and the girl was extremely jealous of your friendship. 

Though you swore she had nothing to worry about, Heeseung, once again, chose you, dumping the girl just a few weeks after because she said bad things about you, added to the fact that she had a list of reasons why he should end the friendship, something Heeseung would never, ever think about doing.

Despite your mind playing tricks after hearing that people could misinterpret the way Heeseung behaved with you – apparently he would be playing with your hair and giving you headpats quite too oftenly, barely keeping his hands away from you –, you tried to maintain things safely where they should be, focusing on getting over your foolish crush on Heeseung and moving on.

Eventually, little by little the so cherished friendship started to teeter the edge that crossed the line of just friends, and the casual moments started to hold a special place inside your chest.

Heeseung made no effort to help you as well, offering big and gorgeous smiles whenever he saw you as if you were everything he wanted. Laughing graciously when you hugged him so you could hear and feel his chest vibrating with it. Doing his silly little dances to cheer you up in the middle of your living room and, mostly, singing songs with his angelical voice for you to sleep during late phone calls. 

You were so terrified of reading beyond reality.

Was it really that deep?, you would question yourself when your head rested on your pillow at night, the phantom of Heeseung’s presence permeating your room after a game day together, the shared chuckles and teasing prolonging your fast heartbeats as a sweet reminder of your feelings, feelings that you never really managed to bury somewhere else other than on the tip of your tongue, craving for the release you never gave.

The friendship continued the same through the years, or, at least, you both tried to. The emotional bond that tied you two together worked almost perfectly, if you got to keep your voice silenced, if you got to keep the real feelings inside your chest, away from the possible reality.

Heeseung would be eager to share his adventures with you, from the everyday moments, like when he made a shot with his back turned to the hoop and scored, to the more secretive and sexual escapades, the ones you would rather not hear about but had to in order to support your friend spot.

It felt like a punch to the gut when Heeseung talked about his first kiss and the others that followed, each revelation stirring a mix of emotions you couldn't quite shake off, not when you wanted him to be your first kiss as well.

When you both entered college last year, once more things shifted a little.

Heeseung and you began to frequent very different places. While you gravitate towards the quiet spots, such as the library, the coffee shop, or the shade of a tree on campus to read a book in your silent, mellow atmosphere, Heeseung was willing to attend every single party he got to know about, having girls constantly kissing him in front of everyone, caring little to nothing about the talks or if the night would end up in his room.

But he never really committed to anyone.

You wondered what was the reason that held him back, considering the amount of good opportunities he had; the offers were abundant, and the line of admires long to make a curve down the square. Surely he would find the love of his life among that many options, and you had convinced yourself you were far faded from the running.

So, the question felt out of place.

“Are you really gonna try to make me believe that you don’t know when a girl is flirting with you?” You propped yourself on the couch to full face Heeseung, arching an eyebrow. “You? Of all people?”

Heeseung rolled his eyes with a sigh and a smirk, pushing himself up to sit with crossed his legs, fully aware of what you were referring to. “Don’t even start with this shit.”

You chuckled dryly, struggling to contain the bitter taste dissolving in the depths of your throat, the knot was extremely hard to swallow, to know he had fucked who knows how many girls through his life and you, on the other hand, barely had a boyfriend.

It might sound like envy, but you were just frustrated for not being any of those girls.

“What shit? The ‘last weekend I slept with three girls’ shit?” You faked a deep voice to mimic Heeseung, together with his usual cocky smile before deadpanning into a feigned teasing expression.

The episode happened a few days ago, right when you accidentally eavesdropped on him and his friends chatting while playing video games in your shared living room.

It was the typical boys’ talk that you had no intention of listening to, but unfortunately you had just reached the door’s knot to open it, then each word that came out of Heeseung’s mouth traveled straight into your ears, making your stomach drop in an unexpected pain. 

You rushed to your room, cheeks heating and tears stinging your eyes, on the verge of breaking down after hearing what he had said.

Of course you knew Heeseung was sexually active. His room was right next to yours, and though he tried to keep it quiet, the girl he once led in after mistakenly thinking you weren’t home hadn’t bothered to be discreet.

You were fully aware of his private life, the quarter that had you screaming, crying, nearly pulling out your hair and breaking some of your belongings in jealousy because it wasn’t you. 

“Y/N,” Heeseung called out seriously, accidentally bringing you back from your spiral thoughts. “You, more than anyone, know I was joking,” he averted his eyes from you, the prominent area of his cheeks heating as he added. “I literally lost my virginity not even six months ago.”

Now it was your time to roll your eyes, because yes, Heeseung did in fact lose his virginity on that said date, but he never stopped having sex ever since and it annoyed you so fucking much. While you struggled to even kiss a boy, Heeseung was out there living the best of life. Without you.

For years, you thought you hated his behavior because you couldn’t be like him, nonchalant about your crushes as if they were nothing much. You had to literally force your body not to shake when kissing someone, had to hide your sweaty palms and how all your instincts yelled for you to run away when sharing intimacy with someone.

But the actual reality was simpler. You weren’t envious of him. You didn’t want to be like Heeseung.

You wanted Heeseung.

“Whatever you say,” you muttered with a dry chuckle and dropped back on the couch, grabbing your phone to keep scrolling on tiktok, ignoring how hot your face felt after.

Heeseung grunted, his eyes darting towards your face as you absentmindedly watched videos. The boy was oblivious to the real whirlwind happening inside your chest, especially because on his side of the story, he was fighting so fucking hard to contain himself.

Every. Single. Second. 

You were the prettiest girl he ever had the chance to lay his eyes on, with the bestest personality that complemented his own just right, with the most melodic voice and laughter that made his whole world slow down in order to make his breathing ability harder. And he really wished it actually slowed down, to allow him to enjoy and appreciate every passing moment with you even deeper.

Fuck, Heeseung was unable to tell when the butterflies in his stomach started to dance along the beat of your constant presence, but the day you asked if your lipgloss was cute definitely played a big role on it.

Heeseung had a vivid memory of how gorgeous you looked wearing your brand new dress for your fifteenth birthday party, styling your strands with a hair bow and prepping your face with makeup that only accentuated your already beautiful features.

And then you turned on your heels, cheeks painted with a faint blush, big, wide, innocent eyes colored with a soft shade of brown, and your lips, oh, your fucking plump lips with a  shade of a light pink gloss adorning it, screaming for his own mouth to be pressed there.

‘Do I look cute? Does my gloss look cute?’

The question was simple and very common. Heeseung always answered yes to them, because he would always think you were pretty, even when waking up with your puffy face and half-lidded open eyes squinting because of daylight.

But there you were, making Heeseung focus intentionally more on your, now, kissable lips, on your sweet, tempting, fucking gorgeous lips.

Ever since that day Heeseung had to keep you closer to drift his nasty thoughts away.

It was controversial and maybe hypocritical. He should have done the opposite, to avoid you, to keep you as far as possible, but he simply couldn’t, because in that very moment he found himself addicted to you, addicted to the idea of tasting what he had come to crave as his main life goal. 

Having you near meant not dealing with the thought of other guys that had experienced what he longed the most, because with you, everything that filled Heeseung’s mind was the present; your presence, your cheeky smiles, your clingy hugs, your scent, you, as a whole.

It was so fucking tough and hurtful to hear about your little crushes, it fumed his chest with angry flames that spread rapidly, with no sign to have a firefighter strong enough to put the fire out.

You weren’t like him, or at least the part you allowed him to have access didn’t compare to even one percent of what he lived, but Heeseung strongly envied those who had the chance to be the reason behind your shy giggles and blushed cheeks.

Along the chat about flattering boys that stole your heart, you would also ask him why he didn’t date anyone, your curious gaze making him stutter in place. To internally scream and squirm to prevent the words from escaping his mouth – words that would form the sentence that, without a doubt, would change the trajectory of your relationship – was the only suitable option.

It’s your fault, idiot. It’s because none of them are you.

Heeseung always opted to laugh away and give an open answer; ”didn’t find the right one” was his favorite.

In fact, watching you grow up was harder than dealing with some of the questions you threw at him. One moment, you were just the little girl he loved to tease, someone he considered his best friend, and even like the little sister he never had

Heeseung would watch you laugh at his jokes, chase you around scaring you, and protect you from the world when necessary. But then, out of nowhere, you started to change.

You were suddenly a full-grown woman, carrying yourself in a way that left him speechless, not knowing how to react, with boobs and shit.

Ok, that was not exactly what made his life around you harder, nonetheless, it was inevitable the way you physically evolved began to hold a distinct place in Heeseung's mind, blurring his cohesive thoughts with a frightening ease.

Being a teenager while having a hot friend was difficult, no one ever taught him about it.

He felt nasty every time he dared to touch himself while thinking about your body; how your mildly exposed chest, when wearing tight shirts, hinted at what was beneath it. How the soft curves of your belly and hips drew his attention in a way that got his fingertips tingling in craving to hug it, to have it under his touch.

Whenever he achieved his climax, your cute name falling from his lips in a quiet whisper, the following regret flooded his chest within a wave of remorse that he couldn’t control at all. For good minutes he even considered saying sorry to you within a text, without giving a proper explanation, but he would always choose to keep that hidden truth away from your acknowledgment in every instance possible.

Besides his strong, flaming desire, Heeseung loved you with all he had.

You were his best friend, the one and only, the girl who knew his deepest secrets and welcomed them without judgment, that laughed at his stupid jokes and held him closer when he needed comfort.

You knew that when he was a child, he would wet the bed because he had nightmares about clowns. You knew he would eat ramen in the middle of the night, hiding it from his parents and blaming his older brother. You knew that, despite him bragging about his skills, he was terrible at candy crush – and you loved to tease him about it, because who the hell is bad at candy crush?

You didn’t seem to care about his flaws, like the aggressive way he treated things around him when the accumulated stress snapped – never at you, though. Or the fact that he would procrastinate as much as possible to clean his room, to do laundry or wash the dishes. Or that he would always eat while watching TV at maximum volume, and scream loudly while playing league of legends even when late at night.

Heeseung loved you, yet, it wasn’t enough to keep him safely quiet, relentlessly making his body ache for you. What started as the warmth of a deep connection slowly blossomed into something more – more intense, more real, and yet, somehow, delicate, like a fragile flower that could easily be shattered.

Heeseung would treat you like a queen because he thought you deserved to be one, and in the valleys of his heart, he wished for you to let his presence be part of your happiness, to share all the intimate moments, to become a part of your world in a way that was more than just a friend.

So that was the reason Heeseung started this whole thing of asking you about flirting. He was patient, however the urge to be yours and have you completely was swelling not-so-slowly, and he found an unexpected way to maybe drift you both through that invisible boundary line he wished to cross for so long.

There was no actual curiosity behind his question, it was pure and genuine longing and quiet hope for you to, perhaps, reciprocate those confused feelings that only led his heart to decide that he loved you.

And he loved you with his whole soul. 

“Come on,” Heeseung groaned after zoning out, now pushing his body to stand up before taking the seat next to you by scooching your legs away. 

You looked at him over your phone, frowning, your heart still pounding hard in your chest after going thoughtfully over the topic he just brought, pretending to spend your time on the screen when, actually, your head was filled with anxious and fearful thoughts.

Even so, you kept a straight face. 

“What?”

Heeseung sighed, shoulders dropping in something close to defeat and you took your time to move and sit on one of your legs, the other on the ground, casually hanging as you bounced it in order to expel your nervousness.

You didn’t notice your friend had tracked the motion for a quiet second, immediately understanding you had shifted your demeanor in a way he couldn't pinpoint yet, but he had a hunch about it. A suspicion that got his heartbeats notably increasing.

But you saw the exact moment he switched as he gathered the best of his decency to lock eyes with you, guiding the plan forward with excellency.

“Could you, please, for everything we have been through, for our beautiful friendship, and because you love me so, so much, answer my question?”

The drama in Heeseung’s voice was blatant and got you fighting back a grin that threatened to break free. His big-doe eyes flashing you an innocence you wittily figured out as coaxing, added to how he slowly batted his eyelashes, tilting his head only enough to look extra adorable, even curving his bottom lip to pull into a slight pout that had your attention lingering longer than you wanted. 

Once Heeseung learned that his charming eyes were one of your greatest weaknesses, he wasted no time to take advantage of it, oftenly catching you off guard by using his secret weapon to achieve certain goals, offering a soft, yet penetrating gaze that got your knees faltering in place.

He didn’t know with precision what made you so easy to pursue whenever he used that trick, nonetheless it was a big benefit either for simpler favors or big other things, like using your credit card to buy a collector figurine he didn’t have the money to buy during that time.

In that moment, however, Heeseung just wished for you not to catch the flicker of apprehension in his eyes, or the barely contained excitement that danced behind the facade of calmness and fake purity, because he didn’t aim to get something expensive or use your bathroom just to explore your good amount of skincare. 

His only objective was to cross that friendship line, to ruin it, and, if he was lucky enough, have you enjoying it as you both do so.

You pursed your eyelids and then cocked your head to the side, incredulous. “Seriously?” A chuckle echoed from your parted lips, softening your expression to endearing amusement since it pretty much worked all the time, even after you became fully aware of his tactic. “Using bambi-eyes and shit?”

Heeseung nodded with admirable speed, his entire behavior was almost infantile, resembling a shameless child about to get a pricey toy after playing the good kid for his parents, although he definitely did no good. He had a smirk on the very corner of his mouth, and his eyes glossed with complete feigned innocence. 

You damned yourself for being such a sucker for that boy, for allowing him to have that much power over your whole existence. 

And with that, you accepted your fate, your defiance. You had no idea of what was going to happen, let alone what the hell Heeseung wanted to know exactly. Yeah, girls flirting, but in which way? And why?

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, placing your phone away on the side table. Heeseung smiled brightly and shifted on his seat, his whole body now facing you, expectantly. You flashed a hesitant look, cheeks already flaming hot in a strange anticipation, not even bothering to chase for his gaze properly. “What do you wanna know?”

“Ok!” Heeseung nearly buzzed, his body jolting slightly as if electricity ran through it, revealing his excitement. “I’ll repeat the question so it won’t get weird, alright?” 

You allowed your throat to let out a small hum, nodding and eventually daring to glance up for a little, meeting the view of Heeseung's eyes beaming with something close to thrilling and mischievous.

A cold, yet silent shiver ran through your torso and you had to control yourself not to tremble when he glazed his gaze with yours, in a magnetic manner that left you with nothing but the necessity to oblige.

Though you had heard them quite a lot from the past few minutes, the following words didn’t ease your heart to weigh less; the amount of times wasn’t enough to get used to how they sounded to you.

“How do I know a girl is flirting with me?”

The air felt extremely thick, rarefied even, as if you were up on the clouds, out from any equipment of protection as you body travelled near to get out from the atmosphere, heavy in your lungs. 

Heeseung struggled to read your reaction at first. Silence. Pure lack of sounds, only a blank and slightly confused expression facing him.

It wasn’t like he was fully expecting you to partake in his idea, even though he planned to account for every possible outcome variant to achieve at least a fraction of his goal.

And yet, he didn’t have a clear objective. Perhaps he simply wanted to plant a seed of hope, mixed with a ‘what if?’, hoping you would realize his feelings ran far deeper than just friendship. And, if luck was on his side, that you might reciprocate – or at least begin to entertain the possibility.

He wanted to ruin that friendship, because he believed you could – no, should – be lovers instead.

You gulped down the lump forming in your neck, praying for some god to help you to release your nerves as soon as possible, otherwise the possibility of having a heart attack wouldn’t just be a fantasy; it would be a reality.

Although every cell in your body seemed to resonate with joy to step onto that untraveled road of your friendship, you couldn’t help the urge to run, to escape, to get away from that topic and move on with your life. 

For sure you both had conversations about similar concepts, but nothing close to personal-sexual subjects. Nothing similar to Heeseung asking you directly how flirting happens. 

“I think…” You sighed, fidgeting with the rings in your fingers. “It depends on the person…”

That reply was more open than Heeseung wanted, however, he didn’t press. 

Your tone was thoughtful, your gaze drifting to a random spot on the wall behind Heeseung and then you frowned, trying to recall how your other girl friends behaved whenever their crushes were nearby to give him a proper answer.

Heeseung studied your beautiful features intently, momentarily losing sight of his original purpose; his focus hovered longer on your lips, the same ones that taunted his self-control every single day, the same ones he dreamed about having attached to his own, the same ones he nearly said ‘fuck it’ and kissed.

Instead, keeping the natural and respectful approach and also using your words, he rephrased his question, bold and curious to explore furthermore.

“How do you flirt, then?”

You blinked your blurred, distant eyes back to Heeseung, widening them once you noticed not a single hint of hesitation within his speech, not even a drop of wavering as he held eye contact. Your furrowed eyebrows showed deep uncertainty, and Heeseung added, struggling a bit to sound firm, gesticulating with his nervous hands.

“Like, could you demonstrate?”

It hadn’t clarified anything. In fact, it only made everything more doubtable and chaotic, eliciting a tilt of your head and an even deeper frown.

What on earth was he talking about? Out of nowhere? With no precise context whatsoever? You hadn’t bought into his questioning from the start, especially because of how charming that guy in front of you could easily be, no shame at all. And now this – completely sudden and utterly unsubtle.

Heeseung hadn’t laid the groundwork before dropping this delicate bombshell in your lap.

“How do I flirt?” You retorted, emphasizing and pointing to yourself, dumbfounded.

“Yeah, like,” he shrugged, as if it was just a normal question to make to your best friend. “How do you normally flirt with your crushes?” 

You shook your head, your hands freezing in the air, your spinning head barely catching the mocking tone when Heeseung said crushes.  “No, like, I got that part,” you clutched your fists, narrowing your eyes, lips suddenly drying. “But…”

The tension clung in the silence and you could feel your heart ringing in your ears, almost ripping out from your rib cage. Your hands slowly dropped to your lap, resting there as you tried to find a recompose path out of that situation.

“But…?” Heeseung prodded, leaning ever so slightly closer, his curiosity palpable as much as his boldness.

“Do you want me to flirt with you?” You blurted out, struggling to understand the whole picture, a blend of dread and excitement swirling in your stomach that you failed to contain.

Heeseung’s breath rigged, apprehension heavy in his voice, afterall, that simple interaction had the strength, the weight of changing things between you two for good – and he was painfully aware of it. 

“It’s not like, flirt flirt,” he attempted to clarify himself, though it was clear he was growing increasingly nervous with each passing second. “I just wanna see how girls do it. And you’re a girl, as far as I know.” 

Heeseung was trying to sound nonchalant, to ease the tense air with his remarkable teasing smirk, as casual as ever, but the atmosphere had noticeably shifted and you weren’t sure about your thought process during that moment. 

You grabbed one of the couch’s pillows behind you and threw over him, both of you sharing a laugh that seemed a bit too forced to be real.

A rush of heat crept up your neck as you silently fumbled for the right words when the playful banter settled, leaving room for the reality of Heeseung requesting you to purposely flirt with him.

You also grasped with caution the way Heeseung’s gaze lingered on your figure, how it followed the movement of your teeth pressing on your bottom lip, how he mirrored your decision to wet the area with the tip of your tongue as well, drawing your attention towards his own attractive lips, planting, in your mind, a dangerous seed that had you considering a deeper, promiscuous touch. 

The whole moment felt like walking a tightrope in high heels and you were terrified of what might happen if you stumbled. Your friendship was too precious for you to lose it over a stupid mistake. But, God, why did it feel so tempting to surrender to it?

Heeseung looked at you with adoration and eagerness, his body surprisingly relaxed, or at least you read it like that, as if the scenery was as simple as one plus one, as though he had everything under control.

Little did you know he was extremely, ridiculously, intensely anxious of what cost he would have to be paying in order to not destroy everything. If you paid close attention, you would probably see his gray shirt moving to the strong beats of his heart, loud enough to make him wonder if he was going to survive the outcome.

Another sigh trailed off your mouth as you scratched the back of your neck, clearly torn between the open choices in front of you. You could easily opt to ignore that and shove Heeseung away with some joke, or perhaps answer his question without thinking too intensely about it; you could fake it, hiding your real feelings in a dialogue made up from your head. 

Or you could let your friendship fade into the depths of your lustful desire of having Heeseung for yourself as a whole man, shameless flirting with him the way you always wanted to. 

And then, it clicked. He was offering you the perfect opportunity, the perfect project to subtly guide your decisions, all while pushing you towards the inevitable conclusion: you were about to ruin that friendship.

“Fuck it,” you muttered under your breath to yourself, and right after your sharp, determined gaze met his, leaving no chance for any possible retort. “I think we need to fantasize a scenario, then.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the shift in tone but too intrigued to ask questions. “Why?” he smirked, leaning in slightly. “Does the scenario where you flirt with your best friend in your living room not quite match the vibe?”

You forced an exaggerated look of disgust, but it was more for show than anything else. Neither of you was fooled by your performance. “No, it doesn’t.”

Heeseung chuckled, the tension slowly melting between you two. But even as the laughter filled the air, the uncertainty of what was coming next buzzed in the back of your mind, tempting you to run. Yet, your heart, much to a surprise, was urging you to stay, to follow this dangerous path wherever it might lead.

“Ok. So let's just picture we're in a club–” Heeseung started, straightening his posture. 

“I don't go to clubs.” You quickly deadpanned, eliciting a small “oh” from him.

“Right.” He agreed, frowning while trying to think of another situation. “So…”

You sighed in defeat, biting your lip briefly before saying. 

“I'm your classmate and I have a huge crush on you…?” You blurted out in one breath, yet hesitant, feeling your entire face heat up with embarrassment.

Especially because the said scenario had already played out before, making it easier to go along with – or worse, making it feel way too realistic.

“Nice! That's a good one.” Heeseung replied, his voice carrying a cheerful tone that had you scrunching your nose at his obliviousness, though it wasn’t entirely his fault that you were harboring bottled-up feelings for him. “So what would you do?”

You toyed with your bottom lip, grazing it lightly with your teeth as you tried to quell your nerves, all while struggling to ignore the way your friend sounded urgent, excited, and unmistakably eager. It was as if the entire script had been meticulously crafted long ago. As if he genuinely and wholeheartedly wanted you to flirt with him and walk past the friends line.

Dangerously close.

Before you voiced out, you cleared your throat not to waver on your words. “So, since we're classmates, we'd probably see each other everyday...”

Heeseung nodded, his bambi-eyes following your every movement as you shifted on your seat slightly. “Yeah.”

“As a girl with a crush on you, I'd try my best to stand out somehow and grab your attention first. And the most common way is…” You paused, casting a wary glance towards Heeseung, as though your next words carried a weight too immense to risk uttering lightly. “Eye contact?”

After some time, locking eyes with Heeseung became an increasingly challenging task because it meant having the opportunity to take in every detail of his impossibly attractive face.

The faint mole on his forehead and the ones near his nose were like tiny stars adorning a beautiful sky; that very nose that made you want to squeal from how adorable and rounded its tip was, all while provoking thoughts far too indecent to entertain.

His constant parted lips carried an unique charm, naturally inviting with their slightly reddish hue. At times, they took on a deeper tone, whether from the way Heeseung pressed them together whenever he entered the deep concentration state or nibbled at them to suppress a laugh after teasing you.

If you dared let your gaze wander further, you would notice the sharp point of his chin and, just below it, his prominent Adam’s apple – a mesmerizing detail you never imagined could have such an effect on you. The subtle movement of it bobbing up and down held your focus captive as though it had the power to dictate your every subsequent action.

A sigh slipped from your lips before you even realized the silence that had overtaken you, nor the way Heeseung, with his warm brown eyes, oozed affection and attentiveness your way.

“You’re not making eye contact…” Despite his observation, there wasn’t a trace of reprimand in his tone. It was soft, like a summer breeze brushing against your skin, gentle yet impactful enough to make your eyes widen as you leaned back in surprise.

You hadn’t even noticed how close you had unconsciously leaned towards him.

“Sorry,” you muttered after clearing your throat, redirecting your gaze to a random spot in Heeseung’s lap. Yet, contrary to what you expected, he shifted forward, closing the distance further, his knees nearly brushing against yours.

You looked up at him, confusion and apprehension flickering in your expression, ready to ask why he was coming so close, but he left no room for your question.

“Does the proximity of the girl interfere with flirting?”

His tone was low, soft even, each word drawn out with deliberate care. It carried a designed tenderness that nudged the borders of unexplored intimacy between the two of you, crafted perfectly to unbalance your soul.

Breathing became difficult as your heart raced, your body begging you to flee.

“N–normally, it’s not this close.” You cursed yourself for stuttering, but how could you not? How could you remain composed when Heeseung’s voice carried an intimacy you had never heard before? You had never seen this side of him, never had him like this.

Your gaze latched onto the way his long eyelashes fluttered with each deliberate blink, the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and the way his breath mingled with yours as he leaned impossibly closer.

“Yeah?” He murmured, his eyes dipping briefly to your lips in a silent, daring plea to let actions replace words. “Then why are you this close?”

You desperately tried to come up with a coherent response, perhaps to point out that it was he who had closed the gap. But your mind had abandoned rationality, leaving you to stumble over a weak, “B–Because you sat there, you idiot.”

You broke eye contact abruptly, reality crashing over you like a tidal wave. The sheer weight of the moment urged you to shift away, to reclaim your space and calm the chaos in your chest.

But Heeseung wasn’t ready to let you go.

With surprising swiftness, he shifted his body upright and gently pulled your arm so you could get onto his lap, his hands holding you firmly yet carefully in place.

“No,” he murmured, shaking his head softly as his voice dropped an octave, steady and soothing, eliciting an immediate gasp from you. “I want to know how girls flirt when they’re this close.”

You found yourself awkwardly sitting sideways on his lap, blinking in confusion, hesitation etched into every line of your expression. All you could manage was a whispered “What?” that answered or replied nothing at all, it simply materialized into words something that reflected your genuine state.

Your breath hitched as Heeseung leaned in even closer, the heat of his body melding with yours like he was a powerful devil coming from the gates of Hell. His gaze, now tinged with something more potent that torn in between desire, yearning and  an unspoken question, stirred something wild within you.

And for a fleeting moment he hesitated, the weight of the uncharted territory between friendship and something deeper making him pause and analyze his possibilities, the small shift on his gaze betraying him. But as his fingers tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering on your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin, his resolve solidified.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his words as soft as the pad of his thumb tracing the curve of your lips. He gently tugged at your bottom lip, leaving you breathless, lips parted, and trembling. “I’m sorry for the way I went about this,” he added, his voice feather-light, his warm breath caressing your skin. “But I couldn’t think of another way to put us in this exact moment.”

Your body froze, your mind unable to fully process what was happening. One moment, Heeseung was your charming best friend who eventually became your lifelong crush, the next you were on his lap, in a compromising position and with your faces inches apart.

You were suffocating in the heavy atmosphere, unsure of how to respond to the rush of emotions crashing over you; it left you in a state of emotional overload, in shock, utterly overwhelmed.

And then, with a softness that cracked the air between you, that broke your tensed nerves and fluttered your chest, you saw his eyes falter, waiting for a sign, a proper answer for his following question.

“Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering with words, you closed the remaining space yourself, your lips meeting in a collision of longing, and, so far, unspoken feelings that were buried deep in both of your souls, now lingering in the atmosphere as a quiet, yet delectable high voltage cursing over your body that you struggled deliciously to drift through. 

Torn in a conflict of decisions and a mutual desire, you had finally tasted what had been tempting you for so long. The softness, the warmth, the way Heeseung’s lips fit so perfectly against yours, tailored to match you as if they were meant to be.

Crossed everything you had imagined, now buzzing like a soft echo of reminiscences from when kissing Heeseung equated to a fever dream, to impossible, unattainable. 

Your body seemed to float in contact to soft clouds that gently embraced you; and then you realized that it was Heeseung holding you tenderly, kindly tracing the curves of your waist in a position that, now, was anything but comfortable.

Even so, the world outside felt like it didn't exist anymore. There was only the two of you, kissing with your breaths mingling intimately, with quiet sounds of contentment slipping out between that touch, one you had longed for far too long to waste the seconds that followed.

You deepened it, seeking Heeseung's tongue with yours almost desperately. The shock of the encounter of the two warm muscles was intoxicating, leaving you completely weak, and had you not been sitting, you would have easily fallen to the ground.

Kissing Heeseung at that moment felt like a relief. Relief in knowing that you were both on the same page when it came to the shared connection. Relief in realizing that his mouth desired you as much as yours craved his.

It was comforting to acknowledge how your body fit into his, in every possible way.

And it was then that you became aware of how your hands had automatically found their way into the soft strands of Heeseung's hair, pulling him just enough to draw the small grunts he released each time you did.

Your heart skipped a beat when Heeseung pulled away, tugging your lower lip with a soft bite. You opened your eyes slightly to search for an answer, fearing that regret had hit him like a powerful, striking bolt, but the truth was: he just needed to breathe in order to stay grounded and aware of what had just happened.

Shit. He was completely fucked, because now he knew how incredible it was to hear your breath hitch, to feel your fingers glide across his goosebumped skin with a tender, tempting touch, almost filthy, as your mouths melded together in an unprecedented rhythm.

He knew what it was like to have you intimately, and losing that feeling started to be his most intense fear.

Heeseung hadn't noticed, but there was a faint frown on his forehead that stirred conflicting emotions in you. He breathed heavily, almost panting while searching for air in his lungs. His eyes lowered, hypnotized by your parted lips, which willingly offered themselves to him.

It felt like a sweet indulgence, completely exposed, like someone on a strict diet, almost forbidden from indulging in the delicious taste of your mouth.

One simple kiss and he was completely undone, in the most delightful way possible. And beyond that, he began to crave you even harder. Dangerously harder. “What’s wrong?” You asked, a mild frighten cursing through your veins, your voice barely above a whisper as your fingers continued to caress Heeseung's neck.

Your hooded eyes tried to pull an explanation for why he had stopped so suddenly.

He let out a low chuckle, a sound deep enough to make you shiver inside, sending a strange energy straight to between your thighs that made you unconsciously clench your legs, as your panties started to damp.

Heeseung’s hand, resting there, immediately noticed, making him smirk and lift his gaze. “You,” he sealed his lips with yours, “are unreal,” followed by another small kiss and, once again, a pause to admire you.

Heeseung looked at you with passion and tenderness, but mostly with desire. He wanted you.

No. 

He needed you.

You swallowed hard as you met his piercing gaze before he stood up, making you rise with him. Standing, he grabbed you by the waist and, still smiling, kissed the corner of your lips without any proper explanation. 

Your hands felt awkwardly frozen in mid-air, near Heeseung’s chest, as if you forgot how to function as a human being. To ease your visible tension and also taking some advantage of the moment, Heeseung lowered his mouth and planted a sweet trail of small, wet kisses down to your neck.

Your head immediately tilted to the side, almost as if he had typed the right password to gain free access to explore your body,  his large hands cupping your ass with just the right balance of respect and desire. While you allowed him this closeness, he was careful not to overstep, not when you both had only just begun to unravel that delicate part of your... friendship?

Gradually, you let yourself go, questioning less and following the flow deliberately; your hands now resting on Heeseung’s broad shoulders while he continued his project of driving you insane with his kisses.

“Hee…” You sighed softly when his teeth grazed a particularly sensitive spot near your ear, too sensitive to keep you quiet, weak enough to make your knees nearly give way involuntarily.

“Don’t call me like that, baby…” Heeseung murmured softly against your skin, the vibration of his voice aligning with the tremor in your core, the endearment compelling you to clutch your eyes closed. Before you could even think of apologizing, he continued. “Or else I’ll get harder. And this fucking boner is already annoying me.”

For a brief, considerable second, you couldn’t comprehend his statement, your eyes opening in pure confusion as you stared at him, silently asking for an explanation. But Heeseung remained hidden in your neck, and you could even feel the ghost of his mischievous smile tracing your skin, rendering your mind incapable of thinking about anything other than his inebriating presence.

Then, he thrusted forward, just enough to press his hips against your body while gripping your waist to prevent you from stumbling back, and you felt it.

The layers of fabric between you two did nothing to mask the clarity of his intentions, not when he subtly, but unmistakably, demonstrated what he was referring to – a bulge sufficiently big to elicit a jolt of a quiver through your being, firm and clearly starting to grow painfully hard as Heeseung began to repeat that move.

So you had that effect on him? You turned him on? That was an unexpected delight. The warmth of it made you squirm in sudden discomfort, wishing you could feel it in a different way – one with fewer clothes.

Heeseung’s lascivious kisses on your neck switched to sloppy-messy ones, merging with the subtle grind of his hips against yours as he seeked for the smallest release to his thirst. The sensation made you let out a soft, almost teasing moan, provoking his restraint to the brim.

“Fuck…” he groaned, faltering by the way you were letting him grind shamelessly like a dog in heat, still fully clothed. “Tell me to stop, please..." His voice was ragged, like an aching, shaky plea that made his movements halt, since his focus turned inward in order to find some self-control.

But didn’t give such a command. Instead, you opened the door, not-so-silently inviting Heeseung deeper into the moment, into you. You couldn’t care less about your friendship, not when you craved to have your said best friend touching you intimately, to have his length twitching inside you while fucking your senses out of you as if his life depended on it.

You shook your head, a sly smile curving your lips when you whispered right in his ear. 

“Take me to my room, Hee.”

His desperation thickened as he surrendered to the overwhelming warmth between you two, a vocal groan cursing through his throat when he maneuvered easily your body by grabbing your thighs, inciting you to wrap your legs around his waist as he busied his mouth in yours, messily guiding both of you to the your room. 

You found support on his shoulders and giggled in between the sloppy kiss, but you couldn’t quite enjoy the feeling of his strong grip surrounding your body with precision for too long, as your back quickly reached the soft mattress of your bed.

Heeseung's big figure towered over you, scooching up as a way to help you both find a comfortable position until your head was touching one of your pillows, lips still attached to each other in pure hunger.

You wondered if putting your feelings into words would add to the moment, but nothing truly needed to be said. The unspoken tension you shared with Heeseung had carried your relationship this far – this wasn’t the time to disrupt it with confessions of the obvious. Not when you had him kissing you so intensely, so voraciously, as though he were utterly parched and you were his only source of relief.

It felt exhilarating to have Heeseung this needy, his body reacting to every subtle motion of yours. You rolled your hips gently against his, seeking mutual friction in a desperate bid for release.

Your fingers wandered through his disheveled hair, occasionally trailing down his subtly muscular arms – the very arms that had always been your weakness.

Heeseung wasn’t bulky or overly built, but he had a lean, breathtaking frame, with just the right amount of definition in certain places. Supporting his weight on the bed, you could feel the tension in his arms under your touch, muscles tightening even more each time your hands dared to drift lower, grazing his back, your nails lightly scratching.

The slight scrape drew delicious sighs from him, each one lost in the fervor of your kiss.

Heeseung’s free hand explored wherever it could reach, teasingly brushing beneath the hem of your shirt, as though waiting for your silent permission to go further. And you took your cue right away.

“Hee…” you broke the intense, breath-stealing kiss to murmur his name, your voice soft, your eyes barely open as the world around you seemed heavier, hotter.

He reacted instantly to the familiar nickname, though now it carried a filthy weight that would linger with him forever. His hips pressed against yours in a motion that sent a shockwave through your core, the direct contact of his pelvis with yours setting you alight.

Lifting his gaze to meet yours, he found pure, unrestrained lust staring back at him. The words that followed made him falter, disbelief flashing across his features at the reality of what he had craved for so long finally coming true.

“I want you,” you whispered, eyes tenderly, yet oozing with desire looking at his brown orbs.

Heeseung’s jaw tightened as he swallowed hard, his expression shifting to something taut, focused. He studied you with care, searching for hesitation, for any trace of doubt in your plea. But he found none, only mutual desire, raw and unfiltered.

A breath of laughter escaped him, quiet and disbelieving, as his lips, swollen and glistening with your shared kisses, curved into a cheeky, yet content and relieved, smile.

“Don’t laugh…” You whined, squirming beneath him in a feeble attempt to escape his teasing gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he said with his voice low, gravelly, making you shiver. “It’s just… This feels like a dream.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks and you failed to hold back a smile. “So, you’ve dreamed about me?”

“Every single day, Y/N,” Heeseung admitted, his eyes dropping to your lips once again, heavy with yearning, with need. 

He looked intoxicated, or maybe hypnotized. Whatever it was, he felt as though his body had transcended reality itself. Because even in his dreams, he never imagined having you like this – so real, so wholly his.

“Tell me that again…” A delicate plea. “Please,” a desperate beg.

“What?” You whispered back in confusion, your eyelids feeling heavy with the proximity of the moment, making it difficult to keep admiring the tempting view of Heeseung slowly falling apart.

“That you want me.”

Heeseung’s perfume had taken over you, invading your senses completely like a flood, and you were the one feeling drunk right now, as a deep goosebump ran through your spine hearing – understanding – his request.

“I want you,” you repeated, your voice trembling with the weight of confessing something so intrinsic. 

Heeseung's breath mingled with yours, shaky, weak; the warmth of it ghosting over your lips as he hovered above you was making you dizzy. His gaze burned into yours, holding a quarter of darkness and contrastingly tenderness that matched his impossibly gentle touch on your waist. 

He moved deliberately, savoring the anticipation building up quite fast, stirring an ache that got your stomach bubbling with expectation and a weird anxiety. You tightened your grip on his hair when the tip of his cute nose brushed against yours and his reddened lips grazed over your mouth.

“Again, please,” he murmured in a husky whisper; due to the closeness, the movement tickled the skin of your lips and spurred you to lick the area, your tongue caressing both your swollen lips.

You sighed, closing your eyes.

You could feel your core pulsing in need, your skin prickling due to the insufferable tension that grew stronger, ticker, teetering the unbearable within each second, making you wonder how longer you would be able to hold yourself back. 

The magnetic tension surrounding you two made every breath feel like a desperate beg, igniting a hunger within you so fierce it consumed you.

Felt like the last thing you would ever crave in your life was right before you. But apparently, Heeseung longed to hear you speak a little more before taking any action.

“I want you, Hee,” you said again, quieter this time, though your tone was no less intense – it was even more raw.

Heeseung’s lashes fluttered shut for a moment, absorbing the confession like it was his lifeline. He repeated the motion of rubbing his nose on yours, now tilting his head to the side and groaning. That couldn't be real. You couldn’t be real.

He needed one more. Just. One. More.

“One more, please…” he pleaded, the words slipping out between deep, controlled breaths that did nothing to mask the tremor of desperation in his tone.

“I need you, Heeseung.”

His forehead pressed lightly against yours as he exhaled a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging with the weight of restraint. The charged air between you seemed to thicken, wrapping you both in an intoxicating haze.

Despite the tenderness of the moment, the desire simmering beneath the surface was undeniable – present in the way his hands traced delicate patterns along your waist, in the way his chest rose and fell with the rhythm of yours, in the way his lips hovered, so close yet so agonizingly distant.

“I need you right now, Hee. Please.”

And with your last wish, Heeseung obeyed your command.

Followed by a passionate kiss, one he tried to take his time to appreciate your taste, he also held the waistband of your shorts and, after your silent nod amidst the clash of your mouths when he hesitated, he began to move it down to your thighs, revealing the softness of your bare skin to his curious hands. 

Thick fingers brushed against your sensitive bundle of nerves, the thin barrier of your panties doing little to dull the sensation. The whimper that followed barely met the real world, swallowed whole by Heeseung’s eager mouth as he drank in your expressive, delicate reactions, savoring every trembling note like a melody meant only for him.

“So wet.” Heeseung stated the obvious after feeling your arousal sticking across the fabric, playfully tapping just to tease and feel its viscosity.

If the room was quiet enough, he would be able to hear the wet sound of his pats. 

He dived into your neck since he couldn’t keep up with the pace of the shared kiss, not when you were letting out such beautiful noises as he pressed his fingers on your entrance over your clothing piece, taunting that release that seemed far to reach.

“Hee–” You whined in frustration, swinging your hips towards Heeseung’s fleeting touches as well as tightening your grasp on his locks.

“I know, I know,” he chuckled, deep and low. You pouted when he flashed you a charming smirk, matching perfectly with his amused, yet playful eyes. “Let me take care of you, mhm?”

And with that, Heeseung made quick work of removing the rest of your clothing, still caught around your thighs, panties included. He bit his lip, a soft sigh escaping alongside a subtle furrow of his brow in delight as he took in the full view of your pussy, glistening with your wetness – all caused by him. 

You wanted to close your legs and hide, but he held you open and exposed to his sight. Heeseung could feel his stomach fluttering, tightening with sparkling expectation. 

Beneath the teasing slowness of his movements, there was a Heeseung teetering dangerously close to the edge of insanity, warring to find some self-control. And it was entirely your fault.

The effect you had on Heeseung was nothing short of surreal. Even the simple act of your consent, given with every piece of fabric he slid away from your body, only served to fuel the fire within his desire, leaving his body, mind, soul, everything he had drunk on the sheer anticipation of what was to come.

“Fucking beautiful, baby.”

The compliment was common – Heeseung always praised your good looks. But the endearment slipped past his lips with extra ease, as if calling you baby – his baby – was as natural as a heartbeat, as expected as blossoming flowers during spring. 

By the way your cheeks warmed, you could tell your entire face was betraying your shyness, especially when Heeseung offered you a genuine, content smile, as if he were expressly happy that you had allowed him to see you in this form.

He still hadn’t unclasped your bra and had only removed his own shirt, dragging out painfully the moment of leaving you both naked.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t help the small flicker of worry, a strong fear of disappointing Heeseung.

You had only had sex once in your life, with an ex-boyfriend you had trusted enough to take that step, believing that being in a relationship would make it less hurtful and more enjoyable. You were wrong.

Not only had you suffered physically from his lack of care, but you hadn’t even come close to reaching your own orgasm.

Heeseung knew the rough outline of that story. He was aware that you weren’t a virgin anymore but hadn’t asked for too many details. Partly because he hated the thought of someone else being the one to take that from you.

A pang of jealousy lingered, even though, at the time – just a few months ago – he hadn’t seriously considered taking such a step with you.

It was only after your breakup, and the frustration that radiated off you, that Heeseung decided to act. He couldn’t stand the idea of you putting yourself down, settling for men who gave you less than the bare minimum, when he was right there, longing to give you the world.

“Let me see you too, Hee.”

Your soft request came accompanied by a gentle caress over Heeseung’s slightly flustered cheeks, his lovingly expression hiding the inner battle he was fighting to keep himself composed.

He gave a small nod, standing up from the bed to remove the last of his clothes, granting you the sinful sight of his body, a thin sheen of sweat accentuating the bronzed tone of his skin. Your gaze dropped slowly towards his erection, standing stiff, flushed, with the tip in a darker shade, glistening with leaking precum. 

“Hot,” you murmured quietly, the word barely leaving your lips. But in the stillness of the room, Heeseung heard it.

A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, shy and uncharacteristic – a glimpse of the awkward, reserved side of your friend that you loved teasing, the side that wasn’t used to receiving compliments and always got adorably flustered when they came.

You giggled, beckoning him with a curl of your finger. “Come here, hmm?”

And who was Heeseung to deny you?

In an instant, he reclaimed his place over your body, his mouth finding its way to the smoothness of your chest, lips grazing and tasting your skin. His hands slid behind your back, intent on finally removing the last piece of fabric that kept you hidden from him, and it took less than seconds for you to whimper, slamming your eyes shut as you felt Heeseung gently nip at your nipple.

“Hurry up,” you muttered within a squirm. “Please, Hee. I need you inside me."

You were quick and precise in expressing your desire, your contorted expression of pleasure blended with frustration making it clear that you didn’t want any more delays, especially since he had already dragged things out too much, and you were about to crawl the walls around you to feel him properly.

“Condom?” He murmured against your skin, smiling slightly at your desperation, though he was just as bad, if not worse.

“I don’t have it,” you moaned as he bit your stomach while lowering his hot, wet kisses. Your hands tried to find support in anything – the sheets, his hair, his shoulders – in order to ground yourself, while Heeseung seemed too calm for his own good. “But we don’t need it.”

Immediately, Heeseung froze. He stopped and lifted his gaze, scanning your face for any trace of teasing or hesitation in your words, half-expecting you to be joking or playing around, but instead, all he found was the raw, unfiltered desire of your soul exposed before him.

“I trust you,” you whispered in between your heavy breaths, a soft smile tugging at your lips that countered any remnant doubt resting inside Heeseung. You gently caressed his cheek, pulling him back to you, your eyes locking in a quiet promise that only you two knew the meaning. “I trust you, Hee.”

That was the tipping point. You, who had been wondering how Heeseung maintained such control, watched as his tender nearly relaxed gaze vanished entirely, swallowed by a wave of desire, as if pure lust had consumed his state completely.

“Don’t say that, love,” a murmur. His voice trembled, just as his arms struggled to hold himself still. He then kissed you intensely, shutting down any possibility of you retorting the pet name, barely giving you time to recognize how your heart skipped a beat.

Heeseung’s hips shifted in the precise motion to bring you closer, to claim you. You shivered.

“I’m going insane, you have no fucking idea.”

Though the choice of words said behind gritted teeth, it was clear Heeseung gravitated towards vulnerability rather than anything harsh; he sounded unsteady, but not in a worrying way. It seemed as if he had surrendered completely to your existence, almost like a personal devotion.

His soft, now familiar lips found home on yours again, pulling you into a singular kiss filled with unspoken emotions, while one of Heeseung's hands gently caressed your waist to keep you still, beginning to position his hardness against your aching hole.

Feeling the distinct pressure in that area generated an unconscious and uncontrollable tension in you, your shoulders stiffening, your hands gripping Heeseung's arms immediately and your mouth stopping properly working as the fear of the pain that would follow from that simple action started to creep up your spine.

“What's wrong, love?” Heeseung asked kindly, pausing his movements as he noticed the sudden rigidity in your body; he had only inserted the tip, and you had become completely tense.

“N–Nothing…” You shook your head, your eyes clenched closed as you tried to regulate your heartbeat and breaths. So far, there was no burning sensation where Heeseung had placed himself, but still, you were afraid.

By any means he was big, you had gotten a beautiful view of him just a few minutes ago, and although your mouth watered to have him fully inside you, there was a lingering feeling that held your soothness back.

“Baby…” Heeseung murmured softly, his voice carrying a subtle insistence as he sensed the clear discomfort and the blatant lie in your response, his concerned eyes searching for any hint of truth in your contorted expression.

“I’m sorry.” You pouted, refusing to open your eyes, the weight of vulnerability overwhelming you.

“For what?” He asked, a small trace of confusion in his voice, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he offered you the choice to end it without guilt or hesitation. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” You blurted, snapping your eyes open, your pupils wide and searching his face. Your head shook vehemently, your hands gripping his shoulders in a reflexive act of urgency as well as your legs, wrapping around his waist to keep him in place.

“Then what is it, baby?”

Heeseung adjusted his body slightly, his movements deliberate and tender, ensuring he wouldn’t press into you too forcefully. He kept his tip brushing against your folds, the sensation teasingly close but never quite crossing the threshold. He silently made the decision not to push you further unless you signaled otherwise.

“It’s just…” You exhaled shakily, your eyes downcast, unable to meet his unwavering gaze. “I’ve never– I mean, I did have sex once, but it was so painful, and it hurt so much, and I didn’t even… Y’know…”

You spoke in a flurry, your words tumbling out in a nervous rush, and through it, Heeseung caught the part of the story you had kept hidden and he never dared to ask about. His heart clenched, it became clear that this was a truth that now needed care.

“He wasn’t even that big, but it hurt because he didn’t care about me, and–”

“My love.” Heeseung interrupted, his voice breaking through with a soft, comforting tone. You stopped speaking instantly, blinking up at him with those wide, innocent eyes that held so much unspoken trust. He smiled warmly, a reassuring tenderness in his touch. “I’d never hurt you,” he whispered, his voice firm with sincerity. “And I’d never, ever force you to do anything you don’t want.”

“I want you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, needy, desperate even. “I’m just… afraid.”

“We can take it slow, love,” he said, his words a mutual understanding between you both, the promise of patience in his voice.

He slowly began to press his tip into you again, the sensation soft but insistent, giving you time to adjust. You swallowed thickly, your breath hitching as you tried to calm the anxiety racing through you.

There were sounds threatening to escape your throat that you couldn't properly control, so you just let them out.

“Relax, alright? It’s me. I’m your best friend. I’m not going to hurt you. We can stop whenever you want.”

Through reassuring phrases and tender kisses planted over your face – and mainly on your parted lips –, Heeseung deliberately entered you whole, until his dick was being hugged by your clenching walls and his pelvis fully met your body.

You took a deep breath several times. The sensation was uncomfortable, strange; there was an intruder inside you, and you couldn't quite enjoy the so-called pleasure during sex due to it, but as the long seconds passed and your body relaxed, you began to adjust to the weight of Heeseung's length inside you.

And finally you noticed that Heeseung himself had buried his face at the crook of your neck, breathing as heavy as you, completely frozen in place.

“Hee?” You called and gave a soft stroke to his hair. 

“Give me a minute,” the words came rapidly and slurred, like an incomprehensible mumble.

You quirked an eyebrow, trying to find his face to read whatever was happening.

“Are you okay?”

Heeseung groaned. “Yes. It’s just…” He gulped, clutching his eyes closed and grunting a curse, his hands tightening their grip on your waist. “Fuck—You feel amazing, baby.” His breath hitched as his body tensed, muscles flexing under the strain of trying to hold back. “I need a minute.”

“Alright…” 

Although you couldn’t understand why, you just… Waited. But he made sure to add.

“So fucking tight–” Something about how desperate and lost he sounded close to your ear had your walls clenching even more. “I can’t– I don’t wanna cum right now.”

There was no plausible explanation for the flutter in your chest, let alone the heat that spread across every inch of your skin, hitting your core in a way that was almost overwhelming after hearing his confession.

Knowing that Heeseung was physically unable to move, simply because his release was so close – practically edging himself – made you feel more thrilled than you would ever admit out loud.

As the best of friends – after all, you hadn’t defined your relationship yet –, you chose the path of teasing, letting out a light giggle and giving a playful tap on his back as you said, “Take your time, big boy. I'm not going anywhere.”

Heeseung chuckled, though the sound was tinged with frustration and craving, the weight of his restraint still palpable.

Throughout the heated makeout moment, he was already far too affected – though he wouldn’t admit it now, having your lips against his had been more than enough to leave him ridiculously hard. The shameless grinding had teased his sensitivity with just the right intensity, pushing him dangerously close to the edge.

Now, finally experiencing the tightness of your pussy enveloping around his cock, it was a unique kind of downfall that made his control slip past his fingers, his entire body shivering as trying to contain himself. 

“I wanna– I wanna last longer for you,” a breathy, shaky moan escaped when he tried to move, pulling back just a little to shove back again. “Fuck baby…”

Heeseung was on the verge of insanity.

He couldn’t find the right explanation to how good your wet, warm interior welcomed him in an addictive sensation of fulfillment, as if he had found the exact place he needed and wanted to be.

However, as he began to set a slow, tantalizing rhythm, not only to himself but for you not to feel any pain, your soft, breathy noises became the driving force behind his every move.

Each sound you made was like music to his ears, embedding itself deeply in his mind and shaping his every decision; they spurred him on, a motivator to remain as steady and deliberate as possible, even as his own restraint threatened to crumble.

Heeseung was vividly avoiding to fall into the depths of his true needs of egoisticaly fucking you hard and fast.

And then, you begged.

“Can you go faster? Please?”

A guttural groan was Heeseung’s immediate response, primal and unrestrained, as if your request alone had sent him reeling like a starving hunter finally closing in on its prey.

He paused for a beat, letting the weight of your words settle between the thick air and then shifted the pace, growing more intense, aiming for a sharper, purposeful motion.

Heeseung straightened slightly, lifting his torso enough to pull his face from the haven of your neck and give himself a clear view of your beautiful pleasured face. His gaze met yours briefly before going downward, to the mesmerizing connection of your bodies moving together – your hips chasing his pounds like your life depended on it. 

Your hazed sight saw his brows furrowing as well as his pursed lips that reflected his immense concentration. Sweat clung to his skin, a few damp strands of hair got stuck to his forehead while the rest, equally damp, fell forward and lightly brushed your face with every thrust.

That sight was a sinful privilege; watching him completely undone yet intensely focused was enough to leave you breathless. And still, your slightly high-pitched whimpers harmonized with each precise thrust.

You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, and instinctively, you mirrored that grip in your hands, clutching Heeseung’s hair as you pulled him into a messy kiss. Tongues moved sloppily, chasing each other and swallowing his deep groans along with your incoherent pleas for him not to stop.

A mutual desire began to creep, one that neither of you wanted to escape, a longing as deep as two bodies yearning, painfully, to occupy the same space and merge together. It became evident in the way you clung to him, your arms wrapping around Heeseung's warm, sweaty body, pressing him down, not even caring about the slight pain in your sensitive boobs as you did so.

“I think I’m close,” you managed to announce amidst the intoxicating chaos of your senses.

There was a thick veil of lust enveloping you both, leaving you utterly dazed; the sensation was surreal, overwhelmingly good, and for the first time you truly understood what people meant when they talked about sex.

Heeseung had heard your voice distant and muffled, since his mind had drifted away, lost in the overwhelming mix of pleasure and the aching pain of edging his orgasm; his leaking precum started to blend with your sticky arousal as both of you reached over the edge.

Your eyes rolled when Heeseung started to pound into a specific spot in you, stirring your mouth to fall open with soft cries slipping past your throat, while your nails dug into the flesh of his back, scratching strong enough to leave marks. 

Heeseung barely registered it at first, though he would wear those marks proudly once he did. Still, it stung, a faint burn that somehow awakened his primal need to let go. Added to it, your pussy started to pulse and clench tightly against his painfully sensitive shaft. And so, he begged.

“Please, cum for me,” a small pause to breathe. “Please, I need you to– Please…” 

Your eyes fluttered shut and you trembled. Listening to Heeseung’s broken voice asking you for something you couldn’t quite control bordered the inexplicable and finally it snapped. 

You arched your back and went silent immediately, as if the entire world around you disappeared. You could hear and feel the weight of your heartbeats echoing through you, feel the vibrations of your body, hear the faint, distant noises of Heeseung’s moans and curses and the sound of your bodies colliding.

The intensity of your climax had you gasping for air right after you managed to regain a small portion of your consciousness, your legs squirming as the pleasure took over. 

Meanwhile, Heeseung barely pulled out in time, ensuring he had guided you through your high enough to leave you satisfied.

He would blame himself later for not giving you his absolute best. For now, his focus was on relieving the unbearable, painful tightness in his balls and dick. And so he did, releasing a guttural groan that seemed to resonate from the depths of his soul before spilling out into a delicious sound.

The wave that coursed through his body was devastatingly intense, leaving him trembling and unsteady to the point where his arms briefly faltered in holding him up.

You parted your tired eyes just enough to watch as he came all over your stomach – so much of it that it trickled down onto the sheets beneath you, leaving you completely sticky.

Both of you fought for air, desperately panting as your bodies surrendered, sinking into an overwhelming state of relaxation. A genuine urge to drift into sleep washed over you, your arms falling limply at your sides as your heavy-lidded eyes fought a losing battle to stay open.

You gave up to the exhaustion, watching through half-closed eyes as Heeseung collapsed into the space beside you. 

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured softly, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek.

You tried to blink away your fatigue, but only managed to respond in a low, drowsy whisper, “For what?”

“I lost control. I didn’t do as well as I wanted to. I ruined your sheets. And… you’re all sticky. I know you hate being sticky.”

A quiet giggle escaped your lips at his string of concerns, your body vibrating with a warm, joyous satisfaction at the depth of the bond you shared. It was the expected contrast: Heeseung, overthinking every detail of his performance, and you, utterly smitten, finding his anxieties endearing.

“I loved it, Hee.”

Your praise was genuine, carrying a soft hint of reassurance to ease his insecurity. There wasn’t a single part of you that could ever truly mind the things he listed – not even his so-called mistakes.

“You were gentle and loving,” you continued, brushing a hand against the arm that sweetly wrapped around you, avoiding the result of the earlier moment. 

Heeseung’s face pressed against yours with his breath tickling your skin – an intimacy you could easily grow used to, but for now, had your heart fluttering. 

“And even when you ‘lost control,’ you stayed here. With me.”

Heeseung hummed with a hint of contentment, a faint smile creeping through his tensed barriers after your comforting words. He shifted like a puppy snuggling into a cozy corner, a gesture he did with you a few times before, but never when you were both so intimately bare in that way.

You both remained silent for a while, absorbing the reality of what had just unfolded.

No openly affectionate words were exchanged. Instead, actions took the lead, allowing you to share an intimate, deeply personal moment guided by mutual pleasure. There was no need for a romantic confession – it felt unnecessary.

Every small gesture during the earlier moment – from Heeseung's steady calmness as he talked you through it, easing your anxiety, to the way you reassured him after the end about how well he did – spoke volumes. It was more than enough to prove that the love between you burned far beyond the bounds of friendship.

Heeseung was lost in thought, exhilarated by having been able to share such a profound connection with you. The mutual desire for each other was undeniable, and no words could ever compare to the overwhelming sensation of, now, not simply having the facility to say he loved you – as he had so often as a friend – but to show it.

To demonstrate to you how every fiber of his being, his soul, his existence, was drawn to you, yearning for you, consumed by you.

“Hm, this sticky thing on my stomach is really bothering me,” you broke the silence as the haze cleared and the awareness of your body set in. You pushed his arm aside, preparing to leave the bed and clean yourself up.

“Shit,” Heeseung’s eyes widened, and he got on his feet before you could.

As he had  mentioned earlier, you hated feeling sticky. He realized might had fucked it up by neglecting to help you clean up, by not providing the aftercare you deserved.

Yet, he couldn’t blame himself too harshly; everything about the moment had left him utterly dizzy in the best way possible. It felt like he had lived out a dream once thought unattainable, and the surrealness of it all still lingered.

Your soft, familiar voice snapped him back to reality, reminding him there were consequences to address, and he wanted nothing more than to face each one with you, in every detail, if it meant staying by your side.

“Let me help, okay?” He eagerly offered, reaching out to steady you as you sat up. He barely suppressed a laugh at the grimace that overtook your face as the sticky fluid slid from your stomach to your thighs.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you teased as you walked to the bathroom together. “You’re hot, and all of this was ridiculously amazing, but I really don’t like all this cum–”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence. Heeseung interrupted, gently but insistently pushing you to sit on the toilet. 

“Pee,” he instructed firmly, yet calm.

You blinked up at him in confusion, one eyebrow raised.

“It helps prevent infections,” he clarified.

“I know,” you rolled your eyes, staring at him for a moment. He stared back. The scene was unexpectedly comical – both of you naked, exchanging deadpan looks.

“Get out of the bathroom, silly.”

“I don’t think that’s really neces–”

“I can’t pee with you here,” you cut him off.

He narrowed his eyes at you but eventually let out a quiet, “Fine, fine,” leaving the bathroom with an exaggerated huff, though he didn’t bother closing the door.

You giggled at his childish behavior, marveling at the man who had once been your friend. Friend.

It wasn’t the right word anymore. Something more significant had blossomed between you, unspoken yet undeniably present.

Once you finished, Heeseung returned to the bathroom and began to bathe you. It was endearing to feel his gentle, careful touch as he cleaned your back, giving you the space to take care of yourself properly.

You helped him wash his hair in return, complaining when he tried to use your expensive shampoo. But you relented when he deployed his infallible tactics: wide, pleading eyes and an exaggerated pout, softly begging, “Please,” in a tone so whiny it was impossible not to laugh.

Your heart ached with love for this man. The one who had once been your friend and, now, the one with whom you had crossed the line.

When you returned to the bedroom, Heeseung had already changed the sheets, leaving the bed fresh and inviting, ready to welcome you back into its warmth.

“Lie down here with me?” You murmured softly.

The sun was already below the horizon, and the air was pleasantly cool. A gentle breeze slipped through the slight gap in the window, rustling the curtains and brushing against your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps

The warmth of your recent shower made you extra sensitive to the chill, and noticing this, Heeseung moved to close the window before settling into the empty space beside you.

It didn’t take long for you to naturally nestle into one another, as though this kind of closeness was second nature. And it was.

You had always been comfortable with affectionate touches – warm hugs and innocent caresses were a constant part of your daily routine, alongside the playful teasing that defined your relationship. But now, something new lingered in the air: a tension, subtle and undeniable, that neither of you seemed brave enough to confront.

It felt as though acknowledging the shift, putting words to the new dynamic between you, might unravel it entirely – like opening Pandora’s box and being swallowed by its consequences. Neither of you knew what “dating” the other would look like, nor could you say for certain that this was even the stage you had reached. The unspoken remained deafeningly loud.

Your heart raced as you melted into the comforting warmth of Heeseung’s embrace. The familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach now mingled with a bittersweet sense of uncertainty about what lay ahead.

Despite that, you were usually the one to take control in slightly uncomfortable situations – like when Heeseung started bringing certain acquaintances into the apartment you shared, one of whom had wandered into your room uninvited, sparking a minor conflict that Heeseung quickly accepted responsibility for.

“If you promise to stop ignoring the elephant in the room, I promise to do the same,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

Heeseung had been waiting for you to speak first. You always did. And that thought made a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. Even after everything, you were still... you.

Always you.

He was afraid, of course, that things might change drastically. There was a gnawing fear that the friendship you shared could crumble in the worst possible way. But in moments like this, when you unconsciously reminded him that no matter what, it was still the two of you, he felt a sense of calm.

“Go on a date with me tomorrow,” he murmured suddenly.

You blinked, caught off guard by his directness. His voice was quiet, a little tentative, but firm enough to make you pause. Even with a slight tremor of apprehension at the thought of stepping into the unknown with him, you nodded.

“Only if it’s not a movie date,” you replied with a light tone.

Heeseung laughed, his chest rising and falling as the sound escaped him, and the sensation of your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his abdomen made him shiver.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured you.

You tilted your head to meet his gaze. The way he looked at you, dripping with unfiltered affection was almost overwhelming in the best way. And you knew, just as he did, that the feelings you held for him were reciprocated in full.

You had crossed the line, yes. But now, together, you were venturing into new territory, ready to claim and navigate this uncharted space in your relationship. And somehow, it didn’t feel so terrifying when you remembered that, no matter what, it was still the two of you against the world.

[dcxdpdabbles]

I am feral for fake dating au and alley boyfriends goes so hard, I am on my hands and knees begging for a part 3

Tim's afternoon meeting gets canceled due to three of the members coming down with the flu. Usually, he would have just sent them a recording of what they missed, but since the three were presenting and the meeting was meant to be with the five department heads, he feels it would be best to reschedule.

There was only so much HR could report to him, after all. This meant he had the entire afternoon off.

Tim usually uses the free time he finds himself with to get a head start on other work. Maybe even some crake some cases. But today, he knew Danny was off from his job. His roommate was likely at home watching that new show he really got into.

Last night, he explained the entire plot over their dinner- Danny came from one of those families that always ate dinner at the same time- and went as far as to reveal fun facts he learned about the production team in charge of his show.

Tim didn't understand why Danny was so excited to know the lighting effects used only for a particular character. Nor did he find it as fascinating.

However, watching him get excitable was endearing enough that he listened to the whole thing. Then, he sat down to watch the show, finding it adorable that Danny couldn't stop speaking to the screen as if the characters could hear him.

Tim stares at his computer screen, trying his best to get himself to focus. The data sheets needed some work, but he had two weeks to complete it, and he really wasn't in the mood to verify so much work if he wasn't completely focused.

He glances at the clock, watching the little red hand tick. He insisted on having a face clock in his office instead of just having an electrical one because he found the ticking sound comforting.

Now, it merely annoyed him. That only happens when he's been trapped inside the office for too long or gone out as Red Robin so much he neglected his Tim Drake side. He could take the afternoon off, but what fun would that be?

He had also been trapped at home for a long time, working remotely whenever he could. Tim wanted to go out, but he didn't want to do that alone.

It would be so dull to just go to the same places on his lonesome as it would be sitting in his office or in his room. He could play video games or watch a movie with his roommate, but it wasn't the same of getting outside for a little while

His eyes landed on his cell phone. He could call Danny and ask if he wanted to go out today, but he had no idea what to do. He could take Danny shopping again- apparently, his roommate had no actual use for suits at his barista job, so the two had gone to the mall and gotten him some jeans and t-shirts, but the other seemed tired of that the last time.

Tim didn't want to spend money at the movies either because he wanted to do something active. The problem was that Danny hated spots with a passion and wasn't one for hiking or walking. They could go to a place to eat, but going out just for food wasn't something they could fill a whole afternoon with, not to mention Gotham's cold wave had most of the hang-out places closed until summer.

How hard was it to think of something to do in a city this big?

His eyes shift over to his computer before he caves. He quickly changes the docking station on his work computer to his personal laptop, eyes dancing between his two monitors.

He types into the search engine Where to take your roommate in Gotham City.. The first result is a list of locations, but Tim finds that they are all well-known tourist places, which is something he would rather avoid. He's just not up for a big crowd.

The following result is restaurants to try, which again isn't enough to fill the entire afternoon with- he notes to visit the ramen place because Danny mentioned he wanted to have some three days ago. He grows irritated with the similar lists he clicks until he stumbles across a new store that opened only a week ago.

It's new enough that most people don't know about it, which means they could enjoy a fun new activity since it is a random Tuesday.

Tim checks the store times, confirms that they could be there for a few hours and then reaches for his phone. Three taps later, a dull ringing sounds in his ear as he waits for Danny to answer.

Initially, he didn't want to go shopping, but he thought Danny would enjoy this shop more than any clothes store.

"Yellow?" Danny chirps in his ear, warm and bright. His voice reminds him of the comfortable nights when he's brewing Tim a lovely London Fog Late.

At once, Tim feels himself relaxed. "Hey, Danny. I have the afternoon off. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out?"

"Oh, sure! What do you want to do?"

Tim looks up at the screen. "How would you like to go to a place that lets you design your own succulent and offers an entire room filled with decorations to personalize it?

"I'll be ready in fifteen minutes!" Danny shouts the sound of crashes accompanying his voice as he likely leaps from the couch. "How expensive is it?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'll pay for everything." Tim tells Danny just as Tam and three interns wander into his office. He holds up a finger at them, listening to Danny loudly proclaim he wants to be the one to treat Tim.

It's sweet, but Tim had so much money he didn't know what to do. Danny was saving up to buy his own car- and the last time Tim offered to buy him one, his roommate had refused to make him the Red Robin Rush for a week.

"Don't worry about money, Danny. Just get dressed, and tonight, you can make it up to me the usual way." He says, feeling a slow, smug smile spread across his face as Danny rushes to the coffee station to check through the tea they had.

"I'll do something even better. It's a new trick I picked up, but it's guaranteed to keep you up all night." Danny tells him as he fumbles with his clothes- likely changing- which is loud enough to echo from his phone speakers. An intern shifts, uncomfortable on his feet.

Tam raises an impressed eyebrow, which, for some reason, makes Tim slightly embarrassed. His face turns a bit red as he hastily tells his roommate. "I should be picking you up in an hour."

"Wait, what do I wear for this? I will not repeat O'malley's."

Tim's face turns redder at the reminder of last week's blunder. It wasn't his fault that what he considered casual clothes were what Danny thought were formal. He told the man to meet him at the restaurant after work, not considering it upscale since it was only served dinner, and once again, Danny's outfit had him stopped at the door by a worker who didn't think he was dressed the part.

"Just wear that outfit I like. The blue one." He tells him about the black sweatshirt with blue stripes and a fluffy black and blue sweater. It was the warmest, most stylish thing Danny women meant for streetwear, and he knew it would be a bit chilly in the evening.

"Alright. See you soon. Text me when you are outside. Byeeeee"

"Bye," Tim hangs up and offers the three interns and impressed secretary a sheepish look. "Sorry about that. How can I help you?"

Tam steps forward, waving a hand at the two young men and single women older than him by a few years. They straighten up as his PA speaks. "I just wanted to introduce the interns that start tomorrow; it won't take more than five minutes if you have to be somewhere soon."

"It's lovely to meet you all. " Tim smiles, ignoring the wide-eyed stare the one on the left is giving him. The introductions don't take long at all, but Tim still feels restless when he grabs his coat and rushes past Tam's empty desk. He leaves a note on her desk telling her he took the afternoon off and practically skips down to the parking garage.

He is unaware of the rumors circulating among his employees after a particular intern on the left let it slip he overheard Mr. Drake talking to his lover like their relationship was....like that. He is even more unaware that the second he picks up Danny from the front of their building, five shadows break into his penthouse and search the place for any drugs.

He is too busy picking out crystals with his roommate, who babbles about their effects on ghosts, memorized by his silly random knowledge again.

Meanwhile, Bruce is horrified to find some green liquid in the second bedroom. He's not sure why Tim or Danny have to separate rooms if they truly are lovers, but the fact this was hidden in the room by the other boy gives Jason's idea of Tim living with his dealer aan uncomfortable amount of credit.

He returned a sample to the Cave when his other children reported nothing. They refrained from planting any bugs just because Tim would find them, and it would stop him from trusting them should they have to give him a proper introduction.

Upon conducting some tests, despite the similar appearance to the Lazarus pits, results showed it's closer to the formula of Mr. Freeze's ice ray but in liquid form.

Why would Fenton hide this? What was he up to? Did Tim know that Fenton had cut an entire part of the wall to hide jars and jars of this goo?

[otomiyaa]

Viktor's Secret

Jayce x Viktor

A/N: Playful interrogation won the poll so that's what you're getting 🤭 Love these two.

Summary: Jayce discovers Viktor is hiding something for him and has his ways of making him speak. (Also on AO3)

Word Count: 1.6K

It was quite uncommon and almost felt... wrong. Jayce noted the silence between Viktor and him as they both sat at the dinner table.

They were not working. They were not experimenting. It was the middle of the day and they were not even in their lab. It felt uneasy to not be invested in work for such a while. But they kind of had no choice.

Jayce's mother practically dragged them here for a lunch to celebrate his birthday. Which was actually three days ago. She didn't want just Jayce, she wanted it to be the both of them, and today at last she managed to get them out of the lab for this promised celebration.

"She cooks well," Viktor said. They both stared at their empty plates as they sat next to each other.

Ximena insisted they should wait here while she went out to get their surprise dessert, which resulted in them sitting here quite awkwardly since it would be rude to ignore her request after such a feast.

Even if they wanted, they couldn't leave now, so they were just two workaholic scientists sitting here quietly. It felt unnatural to say the least.

"Yes. It was delicious," Jayce agreed. He felt guilty towards his mother. Despite her hard work to make them 'relax' and have a good meal for once, his mind was still focused too much on their research and the pressure from not only the council but all of Piltover.

It wasn't just his own desire and his own expectations now, but other people relying on them as well. It was an added pressure that had both good and bad effects on their work.

"It really was delicious," Viktor replied again. As chatty as they were in the lab, they didn't have much to say now.

Jayce had actually missed most of the conversations with his mother while they were eating and he had nodded absentmindedly and said "yes" every once in a while. Right now, he also didn't want to bring up anything research-related, because it'd make their skins itch to rush back to the lab to make notes.

However he recalled something he did pick up during his mother's conversation with Viktor, and he remembered he should ask his partner about it. It was a conversation topic at least.

"Viktor, you know my mother quite well by now."

Viktor munched on some leftovers and he nodded. "I do."

"When she spoke about my... uh..." Jayce blushed. "...past inventions," he mumbled.

Viktor hummed in understanding. "What about it?"

"It felt like I was missing out on something. The way you reacted and when she winked at you.... Uh... Is there something I don't know of? Have you been gossiping about me?"

Jayce noted the change in Viktor's expression as soon as he said that. Ha! He knew it, he was hiding something. This already confirmed it.

"What do you mean?" Viktor asked in an innocent tone Jayce didn't buy at all.

"We've spoken about your... childhood aspirations before. They were funny. Sweet. You know I liked hearing those stories," Viktor said.

Jayce couldn't explain it in words if he were to be asked - but he was 100% sure Viktor was lying.

"I think you're not telling me everything. Did you visit my mother behind my back to hear more of my embarrassing stories?"

"Not at all, Jayce. Why would I even do that, I don't have the time- hehey!" Viktor jolted when Jayce reached under the table where he could reach his partner's good leg very well. The perfect angle for a good tickle on his knee!

"JAyce, no!" Viktor warned, but Jayce made a claw of his hand and tickled his knee playfully. It was a tickle spot he was happy to discover not long ago. He hadn't made advantage of it again since his discovery, so now was the perfect chance.

"D-don't!" Viktor squirmed in his chair and hastily reached for his cane, but Jayce grabbed his arm and started to tickle his side instead.

"What were you going to do with that, huh? Hit me with it? If you don't want me to tickle you, maybe you could just tell me the truth? Or should I ask my mother? When I discover you've been lying to me, I'm sure I won't tickle you this nicely," Jayce taunted.

"Nihicely?! Ahhah s-she won't tehell ahanyway- hah!" Viktor giggled adorably as he squirmed and twisted to avoid Jayce's tickly finges, to no avail. He sat in an uncomfortable position between his chair and the table with Jayce attacking his delicate tickle spots from the side, there wasn't that much he could do about it.

"She won't tell, huh? So you agree, there's something you're hiding from me."

Even though it wasn't the full truth yet, Jayce couldn't help but feel a little pride. From the very little signs and information he had figured that Viktor was hiding something. A little secret. Oh Viktor. Jayce knew him all too well.

"Jahayce! You behetter s-stop ihit!" Viktor gasped when Jayce wiggled his fingers from his sides to his stomach.

"Then you better spill it."

"Noho- I prohomised, ahhaha!"

Jayce raised his eyebrows and smiled fondly. Well, whatever little secret promise Jayce had with his mother, he was now determined to tickle it out of him before she'd return, and he poured all of his focus into it, so much that he promptly forgot to think about Hextech for the first time in a long while.

All that mattered now was Viktor and that sweet, jolly laugh he was sharing.

"You're beheing so unfahair!" Viktor whined. When he tried to get up from his chair, Jayce simply grabbed him and together they stumbled to the floor where Jayce towered over him and kept up the playful tickle attack.

"Me? You're being unfair. We shouldn't be hiding secrets from each other, partner. Worse, you're involving my mother. So tell me, what did she say about me? I'm sure it can't be anything I do not know of."

Up until now Jayce had no idea what could be so secretive that Viktor would get tickled to the floor for it, but it didn't matter. Viktor was in fact laughing a lot right now, and that was actually what mattered more. Jayce treasured that laugh. He loved it. It was a sound he could only hear if he tickled Viktor.

And well, in moments like this when Viktor would present him a free excuse to tickle him on a silver platter, Jayce was pleased to accept it with both hands, with all ten fingers!

"Thehere's nohothing to sahay!"

Viktor once again tried to reach for his cane which had fallen during their struggle, and Jayce responded by grabbing his arm and pinning it above his head. With his free hand he tickled Viktor under his arm. Very good, very ticklish. Ten out of ten.

"AHhh Jahahayce! You'll pahay for thihiis!" Viktor cried defiantly. Jayce cocked his head.

"Really now? And how so?"

Viktor couldn't really answer that. Jayce continued tickling him but he also took note of his movements and made sure not to hurt him or be to rough. He quickly let go of his arm and dug his fingers into both his sides again. But despite laughing a lot, Viktor still wouldn't tell him.

In the end, Jayce thought he shouldn't overdo it if Viktor really was this reluctant to talk, so he tickled him until he was reduced to lovely pile of quiet breathless giggles, and then called it quits.

"You're really persistent. Admirable," Jayce complimented when both of them were tired. They lay on the floor, Viktor halfway under the dinner table with his hand on his stomach as he caught his breath. Jayce was panting as well.

Then to his surprise, Viktor suddenly started talking. "Your mother... She gave me some of your notebooks. That's all."

Jayce raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Experiments from when you were very young, Jayce. She thought I would like them. And I do."

The tickling had stopped, and he was spilling it now! What! Blushing at this new information, Jayce poked Viktor's side. "But I don't," he whined.

Viktor chuckled and rubbed his side. "She knows. That's why she said it's our secret. We didn't want to embarrass you. That was not the intention."

Pffft. That was actually adorable. It was such an innocent secret in the end. Did Viktor really accept all that tickling, just for that?

Jayce wanted to ask more about it. What notes? What did he like? Were they good, even though Jayce was still a child? Did he laugh at them? When did his mother share them, and why? Where did Viktor keep those notebooks?

But then the door opened and they were no long alone. "I'm back!"

Ximena didn't ask what they were doing on the floor. They both got up and made impressed "ah!" sounds when they saw the birthday cake she had brought.

"I wanted it to be as fresh as possible. So, are you ready for dessert?"

Jayce and Viktor exchanged glances and Jayce caught himself blushing a bit.

"Y-yeah, definitely!"

They both took seat again and were given a big piece of cake, and Jayce noticed that during dessert, he could enjoy this family moment a lot more. He was no longer distracted and haunted by thoughts about work, and he actually took part in the conversation.

And besides, now that it wasn't a secret anymore, he thought he should let his mother spill it as well.

"So, mom. I heard you shared my old notebooks with Viktor, hm? I want you to tell me all about it."

[dasketcherz]

oh my god this is SO GOOD omggg crying shaking sobbing eating up every single paragraph, this analysis is so scrumptious and I would like to add more in the discussion cuz this certainly stirred thoughts I had as well about their dynamic so (clears throat)

Hugo's 100% the type of person who would rationalize his emotions rather than just actually let himself feel and process them for what they are in a healthy manner because confronting those raw feelings terrifies him. And so many things factored to him developing this tendency—for 1) he's forced to grow up too soon too fast cuz his situation in life demands it, 2) he loves to figure how things fundamentally work which includes studying people, what makes them tick & how they think & act & behave, etc (a necessity he has to have to navigate his way around his line of work as a con man) and analyzing himself is no exception, so him trying to immediately pin point as to what and why he feels this way about things is him attempting to regain control of himself 3) because to quote his creator, "He doesn't like doing anything that would make him feel like he didn't have control of himself or the situation."—for the longest time he's convinced himself that it's not safe to feel his emotions because it leaves oneself vulnerable and that's the last thing he wants to deal with right now. Especially in the harsh world he lived in, that's like a death wish.

I also 100% agree with Hugo's tendency to call people by nicknames as a means to create and maintain distance from forming any sort of attachment to people. Definitely a defensive mechanism. And it's through his time with team radical, for the first time, did the nicknames he give people turn from distant detachment to genuine affectionate nicknames overtime. (And I love to think Varian got slightly influenced by that and he was the first person to ever call him "Hugh" as an affectionate nickname and it feels hella intimate to Hugo it drives the man crazy lowkey)

"They are both scientists, but one is more afraid of the results than the other."—is a really interesting observation to point out as well. Hugo being afraid of the results that deviates from what's expected speaks so much volume to how when you're working for someone like Donella—there's no room for errors, you don't have the luxury to make mistakes because that risks you of being put on the chopping block of getting replaced in her book—and that's a constant reminder at the back of Hugo's mind that keeps him in line (exactly the way Don wants him to).

And he concluded that deeply liking Varian was a mistake (on top of his issues of dealing with his own feelings like god please help this man), because he knows what's coming, he knows what he has (and is expected by Donnie) to do at the end of the road. He thinks it's wrong to get attached to the team, it's wrong to fall in love with Varian...but it's also wrong to hurt him (and the others) by betraying them, but it's wrong to betray Donella, his lifelong mentor, over team radical too—he feels so stuck, everyfuckingthing feels so wrong and it's eating him alive every day.

I also absolutely love the notion that Varian is the more assertive one between them, he's the one who usually initiates and that really checks out for his character cuz we see that trait in the show from him, yknow... if taking matters into his own hands was anything to go by from s1. Hugo being the more compliant one also makes sense, cuz that approach saved his ass from getting into serious troubles in the past. It's a survival tactic that has been embedded in him really. However, that difference makes them such a good team. Varian develops to be more brave and confident with his experiments because he knows Hugo would be right there to follow through by him—he trusts Hugo like he's his safety net. And in turn, Hugo develops to be okay with relying on others and counting on them when he doesn't have to deal with something alone. Their dynamic builds trust exercise for the two of them and it's oh so beautiful.

And lastly, Varian being the type who wants clear answers really nudges Hugo to be more honest with him and himself, especially when Varian can tell when he's lying or not (cuz two can play that game babey). Hugo's not the best when it comes to communicating himself to others but Varian is very understanding and patient with him and he nurtures the moments when Hugo chooses to be honest because small progress is still progress, especially knowing that the notion can be hard for Hugo who never had a proper support system (outside of Olivia) growing up. Hugo finally has a healthy outlet to process his feelings because he has Varian to help him figure stuff out and vice versa.

Also the way Hugo has always resort to lying and running away (from his problems, from his feelings, from any sort of trouble in life) but for once in his life chooses to stay for Varian because he finally chooses to be honest with himself and accept the truth that he actually genuinely wants to be with him just leaves me screaming and crying and sobbing and dear GOD they're just so perfect for each other, somebody please sedate me right now

I really like analyzing Varigo, one thing I've noticed recently is how different their approach to romance (and human connections in general) really is, but also how they're pretty much the perfect foils in this regard.

Varian grew up sheltered away in their mansion. He didn't have much clue about socializing, so when Rapunzel came to him, he gives all of them proper respect (calling Rapunzel "Princess", Eugene "Flynn Rider", as in the full name). You could assume it's because of his dad; later when the two confronted each other, Varian called him "Sir". Probably because Quiring taught him to be respectful of others, and they both clearly take this social rule rather seriously.

So then Cassandra comes in and saves Varian, for apparently no selfish reasons. She likely just didn't want to have a child get crushed when she could've prevented it, but to Varian, this changes his view on people. Cassandra isn't just a distant figure to respect; instead, someone he could have a connection with. And this is where one of Varian's most essential traits come to light: when comfortable, he treats situations like an experiment. He immediately starts calling her by a nickname, "Cassie", to see how she would react. At the day of the expo, he keeps trying out different tactics, trying to essentially just get close to Cassandra. One could Interpret this romantically, but I personally like to think he just really wanted a friend. A lonely kid, seeing someone cool show any kind of affection for him immediately made him go "there could be something here! I need to find out!", and so he does. In his own, nerdy way.

Hugo, on the other hand. He, unlike Varian, grew up having to socialize all the time. Having to talk his way out of situations constantly, he learned to put up walls so that the most desirable results come out, benefiting him and his missions. When he weasels his way into the Team, he also calls them nicknames. In his case, it stems from a need to distance himself from people, so that he doesn't get attached. One slight exception though is Varian, as Hugo seemingly not only uses nicknames on him to keep up built-up walls, but to get a reaction out of him. This is very similar to how Varian approached Cassandra when he was younger. He's interested in Varian from early on, and he handles this in his good old Hugo fashion, because he finds Varian entertaining. Varian at first doesn't trust Hugo, but when he proves himself trustworthy, he gives in. He's willing to reach out, making Hugo more than a means to an end. Eventually, the two become friends! Then more than friends!

And then, their approaches change.

I'd like to think that it was Hugo, who fell first. Or at the very least, he's the first to realize it, and he HATES THIS. His flight or flight is activated, and he really wants to flee. He's the type to ignore his feelings, try to bury them. That's all he knows how to do, really. Especially because for what could be the first time in his life, he's actually falling for someone who is his friend. Someone who means a lot to him! He wouldn't want to ruin things, especially because he knows that betraying Variant will break the guy's heart, once he finds out. Therefore, the less pain, the better.

Varian is the exact opposite of this. It takes him a long time to figure out what he feels, and that it could be romantic (he didn't exactly have the history with romance before. The "puppy crush" on Cassandra could have easily been more of an obsession with the possibility of someone showing affection towards him). But once he realizes that there's a chance that the two could be a thing? He doesn't have to think hard about what his next step should be: he likes Hugo, and he's a scientist. Trial and error is practically in his blood at this point, so if there's even a small possibility of them getting together? That Hugo likes him back? Varian will do anything to find out how probable his theory is. And so, once again, he treats the situation like an experiment. Wasting no time, he tries to confess or bring up the idea as quickly as possible. And Hugo FREAKS OUT. He's not ready!

Varian's other big trait is his stubbornness. He's not satisfied with an uncertain answer. He wants to know Hugo's view on them, as clearly as possible. So he keeps poking around, trying to find an approach that brings out different reactions, different answers as to why Hugo would be scared of them being together. Again. Really similar to how he treated Cassandra at the expo back then. This is the only way he knows how, though. And he needs clear answers.

He gets one at the last trial. Boom. Heartbreak. This isn't about angst though, so I'll end it here.

I find them so interesting. How their upbringing influenced their view and approach to people, to friendship, to romance. To each other. They are both scientists, but one is more afraid of the results than the other.

So it all boils down to the importance of clear communication: another big theme in Vat7k, what with Ulla and Donella setting an example as what not to do.

I could ramble about these characters for ages, but yeah. This is my view on them, I loooove reading different Interpretations in fan fiction though!

[coniferouspines]

Been thinking about a Stan twins hunger games AU. Throwing it out here because I’m not sure if I’ll ever actually write anything for it, since I’m working on other stuff, but it’s been rattling around in my brain and I must get it out.

More of a dark!Ford type of AU because I’m into that. Possessive, protective Ford my beloved. Love it when he gets to be a little bit deranged.

Anyway.

The twins are separated at birth. Born in a poor district, Ford is adopted by an influential, wealthy capitol family. At the time the plot of the AU begins, he’s in his early twenties and on his way to becoming head gamemaker. He is set to intern/test run the next game mostly by himself, while still under the eye of his mentor, the current head gamemaker. Ford is still a genius, and is well known for being close to the capitol president, Bill Cipher. He has no idea he was born in the districts and was adopted by his otherwise infertile parents.

Stan on the other hand, was raised in the districts by the twins’ bio parents. He becomes a tribute the same year that Ford runs the games. In this AU, the age for potential tributes ranges from 12 to 25. Having tributes in their early adulthood helps with population control. The capitol wants enough people in the districts to keep them running, but not too many people that they start realizing they vastly outnumber the capitol.

Having the tribute age go up to 25 means most people don’t form families and have children too early. Doing so would be risky in the case that one is selected as tribute and taken away from a spouse or a baby. As few are willing to risk such a thing, it means most people in the districts don’t try having kids until they pass the age of 25, when they are no longer eligible as a tribute.

Anyway, Stan gets dragged into the games. Either by getting selected as tribute himself, or by volunteering to take the place of his little brother Sherman as tribute. Either way he gets shipped off to the capitol. And of course, as future head gamemaker, Ford is there during the initial tribute assessments once they all arrive, and he is shocked to see a tribute that shares his face.

Cue the intrigue.

Ford wonders if perhaps it’s simply a case of a doppelgänger, since everyone is said to have another person out there that resembles them. But… The tribute looks far too identical to Ford to be a simple doppelgänger. So Ford starts to wonder if perhaps—outlandishly—he somehow has a twin. He isn’t sure how that would be possible, but he goes about checking Stan’s medical records after the tributes all go through their medical checks. Ford gets his hands on some of Stan’s DNA and secretly runs a few tests.

The results come back showing that Ford does indeed have a twin. But as shocking as the information is, and as much as Ford would like to know more about his newfound brother, the games must go on. Stan must compete.

But Ford is going to make sure Stan wins. No matter what it takes to make it happen. Though he knows he’ll have to be subtle about it. Can’t show too much favouritism—although he can get away with a little, since he’s favoured by president Cipher. Others tend not to mess with him because of that. Though the resemblance between Stan and Ford is probably obvious to the other gamemakers.

Being the head gamemaker for this year’s games, Ford throws everything into making sure Stan wins. And once he does, Ford throws everything into making sure he can have Stan for himself. A good thing he’s close to president Cipher, as Ford simply asks for Stan and Bill gives him to him. Likely Bill in this AU has been manipulating Ford for a while, wanting him to be his second in command. So he allows Ford to keep Stan despite Stan’s victor status, as giving Ford what he wants will make him more likely to be obedient to Bill.

Meanwhile Stan is confused as to why he’s not being allowed to go back home, and angry that he’s being kept from his family. When he meets Ford however, he’s shocked. Post-game is his first time seeing Ford, and Stan has no idea why this guy looks so much like him. But he certainly isn’t a fan of Ford. Both for being a gamemaker and for being “capitol scum”.

Ford is determined to figure out the mystery behind his previously unknown twin, and is determined to make sure Stan stays with him forever. He will not let Stan go back to poverty in the districts, nor have anything to do with the games anymore. Stan is his to keep safe. He wants to get to know his brother and not lose him again.

And perhaps when the truth comes out, when the twins figure out what happened and how they were separated, Ford goes and collects the rest of his biological family from the districts. Or perhaps he doesn’t. Maybe he has a good relationship with his adopted parents and doesn’t care about the rest of his biological family. They gave him a good life. Now he can give Stan a good life.

[elizaleclerc]

l&ds headcanons

a hc post for all of the guys (except caleb im just waiting til we get his lore tbh)

Sylus:

would definitely get into twitter discourse over the most random topics. the man has strong opinions and will express them in whatever means necessary, even if that's arguing with a random on twitter.

sylus would find some odd type of joy in doing taxes, especially your taxes. he would stay up day and night crunching the numbers and going over the forms multiple times. hes just weird like that.

he would sing along to a musical with no shame, and YES he knows every word are you kidding? it's even worse if you are watching one with him because he will assign characters to everyone and force everyone to act out the parts.

listens to multiple genres of music and has hundreds of playlists for every mood. yall can debate on whether hes a spotify or apple kinda guy.

Zayne:

he likes using a nightlight to sleep and hatesss if there's not a fan going in the room at night. no i will not elaborate further.

not lore accurate obv but he gives oldest son energy- even better if he's the oldest child overall. the smooth sarcasm and protectiveness of the ppl he loves?!?!? screams oldest child behavior.

he's the type to leave a social interaction and rethink/regret everything they said and did to the point of no return. this shit would keep him up at night. even social interactions years ago haunts him.

he'll never let himself drink energy drinks (doctor behavior), not only bc he knows the bad side effects but you genuinely do not want to see him hyped up on caffeine.

Rafayel:

adversely to sylus, rafayel would get canceled on twt so fast. i imagine him beefing with sylus in a long thread and as a result of some outlandish opinion rafayel would get canceled. can't blame him, he's sassy asf and no one can stop him.

he has one playlist full of his liked songs and just hits shuffle whenever he wants to listen to music (freak behavior in my opinion)

if anyone criticizes his artwork he will intensely plot their demise in his head instead of hearing them out. this queen has an ego what can i say.

seems like the type to have had an "emo" phase in their preteens and would exclusively listen to top or paramore.

Xavier:

xavier has an insane long term memory but an awful short term memory. yes he can tell u what happened on a certain day three years ago but don't even think about asking him what he had for breakfast (he probably wasn't awake early enough for it anyway)

unlike zayne, you'd have to pry energy drinks out of xavier's hands. he cannot get enough. he's so sleepy all the time he pretty much can't function without some sort of regular caffeine intake.

xavier believed in santa probably way longer than any of his peers to the point where it was a little concerning. he's just full of holiday spirit.

i can see him not liking being alone for too long because even though he seems sleepy and quiet he really likes to yap ur ear off. at the end of the day he really loves company- even if its just the two of you sitting in comfortable silence.

fin <3

[saklasnabal]

Samarie, Lolita?

Yeah, this art is based on my hunch about Samarie being the Uterus doll again. 

Originally, this was just supposed to be a drawing of Samarie as the album cover of “In Utero”, but then I decided to put up my other ideas that I left before:

I did yap about Samarie being a Uterus doll, but I didn’t yap much about Funger’s sun god Amon and Valteil.

(This was just drawn because I felt like it.)

Samarie’s moonscorched form, "Dysmorphia", bears striking similarities to the Uterus Doll:

No left eye.

A four-fingered right hand and a plain left hand.

Right leg dominant over left.

Are depicted as pregnant.

This shared feature of pregnancy ties directly to the phobia they evoke: teratophobia, the "fear of monsters and fear of bearing a malformed child." This phobia perfectly suits the Uterus dolls, who give birth to malformed offspring, making it a fitting fear for them to embody. Samarie, as “Dysmorphia”, summons ghouls, which are notably “malformed.” These ghouls align with the concept of “malformed child” as they are creations of “Dysmorphia”. So the game acknowledges the actual second meaning of Teratophobia “the fear of bearing a malformed child”, through the Uterus Doll being explicit, but for Samarie it is subtle (I say subtle, but I don't think it is too subtle because, when paying attention to Samarie's moonscorched form, both her arms are rigid and her legs are slender, and there's no sign of plumpness. Her belly is noticeably strained and stretched out, which made me suspect that she was pregnant for a long time. However, I just couldn't find the right words to express my suspicion clearly). Continuing on further, the game avoids fully defining teratophobia, only reducing it to “fear of monsters and malformations”. So, methinks, it is to obscure information, specifically may include details about Samarie, by subtly implying that Samarie’s dysmorphia stems from “malformations”, it leads players to interpret her dysmorphia as simply resulting from perceived bodily inadequacies. When in actuality, Samarie’s dysmorphia may have been rooted in complete defilement leading to a fear of birthing a malformed child. Specifically why she's pregnant, has to do with Valteil. 

First, let's address Amon, the so-called sun god. In truth, Amon isn't actually the sun god; in Egyptian mythology, he's known as the "hidden god" because he represents abstract concepts related to air, he is “being everywhere but unseen”. Ra on the other hand was The Sun God, known as "The Self-Created One", Ra was seen as the supreme creator and a powerful force associated with rebirth and incarnation. He was believed to have emerged from the primordial waters of chaos, creating himself and the cosmos through his will alone. Amon only became the sun god when he merged with Ra, they represented both the visible and invisible aspects of existence, A Supreme being. 

The Sun God Amon in Funger is shrouded in mystery, reflecting Amon's symbolic association with the hidden and the unknown. This mirrors the enigmatic Sun God in Silent Hill, often referred to as "Her". In Silent Hill, young girls were abducted by The Order to serve as vessels, in attempts to impregnate them with the Sun God. Similarly, Samarie, who appears as a fully developed version of the Uterus doll, is kept in the Ninth Circle, it may represent a comparable fate for the naturally gifted children. This explains why the Uterus dolls are called as they are, because much like in Silent Hill, these children became wombs.

Alessa Gillespie, later known as Heather Mason, became the vessel for the Sun God after her mother, Dahlia, used her as a surrogate to bring the deity into existence. Throughout Heather Mason's journey, the Halo of the Sun frequently appears. This crest, associated with the religious organization, symbolizes "resurrection" and the "cycle of rebirth". Given that Samarie is the fully developed version of the Uterus doll and is still alive by Marina's Ending B, it suggests that the pregnant bellies of the Uterus dolls were not merely a result of Valteil's perversion but rather part of his study of the cycle of rebirth itself, connecting it to the Sun God. In other words, Valteil was creating beings with extremely short lifespans that could literally rebirth themselves, emulating Ra's ability to rise again after dying each day and his quality as a self-created deity. Samarie’s masturbation ability could indeed be tied to the Sun God's creative power. Some myths suggest that the Sun God, as Atum, created himself through an act of masturbation, with the hand he used symbolizing the female principle inherent within him. Butttt, this could have been placed by Valteil to exploit, much like how in Lolita, Humbert agreed to marry Charlotte Haze to exploit his position as Dolores’ stepfather for his own sexual obsession. Valteil despised the notion of his creations outliving him, maybe it's because he wouldn’t remain in control of his creation indefinitely?  Since Valteil is based on Valtiel, of courseeee, it was barely spelled like an offbrand Adidas, anyways Valtiel was responsible for Heather Mason’s cycle of rebirth. This is symbolized by his act of turning a valve, a gesture that represents the cycle of rebirth, Valtiel appears to have little concern for Heather herself, focusing instead on the god that slumbers within her. However, unlike Valtiel, Valteil seems to exploit the the Sun God for his own purposes. The Uterus Dolls maybe akin to "nymphets" (a term that Humbert uses to justify his attraction to children, “nymphet” means: a sexually precocious girl barely in her teens, also a sexually attractive young woman), is something Valteil sought to perfect, eternal yet fleeting. A purely immortal being would escape his control, while a being that aged was a no-go. To maintain control over this concept, he had to create a being that was simultaneously mortal and immortal. Perhaps Samarie, much like Lolita, was an idea—a construct. It's worth noting that "Samarie" is an alternative name for Magdalene, as both names mean "towers" and refer to cities in Israel—Magdala and Samaria. The name Magdalene is a nickname for Mary as well, meaning "Mary of Magdala", in this way, Samarie can also be seen as a nickname for Mary, tying her to a comparison with Dolores Haze, "Samarie" serves as a nickname for "Mary" just as "Lolita" serves as a nickname for "Dolores". Furthermore, both Dolores and Magdalene are unfairly viewed as sexual figures when, in reality, they are not. Continuing, to retain control over this idea, Valteil forced a child into the role of “Samarie”, by dehumanizing the child into a living object. This child would live briefly and then rebirth upon death, ensuring the torment allowed Valteil to remain in absolute control. As Humbert himself said, "What I had madly possessed was not she, but my own creation, another, fanciful Lolita—perhaps more real than Lolita; overlapping, encasing her; floating between me and her, and having no will, no consciousness—indeed, no life of her own."

Samarie's Radiant Soul is deeply tied to her connection with the Sun God, who sustains her existence as a consequence of Valteil’s actions. Her body, symbolically aligned with Ra, positions her as an ideal vessel for Amon, much like Alessa Gillespie’s role in her story, Samarie is "The Mother of God". The events of Termina may be part of a carefully orchestrated ritual designed to merge Samarie with Amon. Thus, Samarie’s presence in Termina is not truly for Marina; her purpose is bound to Amon's birth.

Adding to the idea that Samarie wasn’t truly there for Marina, maybe the only reason Samarie follows Marina, is that Marina might be Valteil’s descendant?

The only similarity I can compare is their facial appearance, so I decided to draw Valteil from a frontal perspective, rather than viewing him from a top-down angle with his head tilted upward in   the official art. This perspective makes them look a little similar. Perhaps, Samarie’s obsession with Marina is less about love and more of a triggered fear response from Marina’s appearance, because it reminds Samarie of Valteil, so she feels the need to appease. To cope with this fear, Samarie interprets her actions as love, avoiding the uncomfortable truth behind her behavior. 

Marina might be dealing with Samarie because the "Humbert Humbert" in her family tree, Valteil, set off a chain of events whose consequences have spiraled out of control over time, ultimately falling on Marina to address. Methinks, this is a family matter: the problem originated with Valteil, the ancestor, and was perpetuated through his bloodline as subsequent generations continued to stoke the flames he first ignited. As a result, everyone in the lineage is burdened by the sins of the family (It makes me wonder if Marina’s father was the one responsible for sequestering children to the ninth circle. I mean, the logic is so simple: where would the Vatican easily collect children? The orphanage, of course. People wouldn’t bat an eye trying to track down missing kids because, hey, they’re orphans—no family, no one looking for them). Following that narrative, Samarie barely possesses any autonomy in her life, her feelings for Marina aren’t genuinely her own but stem from a deeply conditioned fear of Valteil (It's as if Samarie had to read Valteil's mind to figure out what he wanted, paying extreme attention to his desires to avoid being hurt even worse. Now, she's applying that same behavior to Marina, because every time she looks at her, she sees Valteil). Valteil completely altered her body with a very specific appearance, meaning the name, "Samarie," isn’t even her name, it's from the person she was specifically altered to. This forms the core of her dysmorphia—she feels disgusted by an identity she never chose yet has no choice but to live with. Due to being forcefully granted the ability to rebirth herself upon death, it forces her to back to the form she bitterly hates. She is, in essence, her own malformed child, forced to bear in her swollen belly the identity imposed upon her—a reality she deeply despises. Thus, she is “Dysmorphia”. 

 Methinks again—MEEEETHINKS AGAIN! In Samarie’s narrative, she plays two roles: one is “Lolita,” and the other is “Dolly” For the first, “Lolita” is the loud one, the one that is always heard in the room—she is the delusion. Suppressed under the screaming of “Lolita” is the lady of sorrow, “Dolly,” who I believe speaks this line: 'If I were to die the same day as her… There's something poetic about it… It will be alright.' Initially, this reinforces the perception that she is obsessed with Marina, willing to die on the same day as her. However, a subversion emerges when Samarie says these words directly to Marina. Beneath that distorted framing, “Dolly” still exists—a broken, exhausted individual simply longing for an end to her suffering. Perhaps her ultimate desire is to die in peace with the identity of “Samarie,” the person she was forced to live as. Then, the narrative switches back to “Lolita”: 'You must know it too, Marina! But don't worry. We will die together.' This makes her obsession with Marina feel inconsistent. It feels like Samarie recognizes her slip—the brief emergence of "Dolly"—and quickly reverts to “Lolita”. 

The words above this, makes me think back to the nature of Samarie killing Father Domek. Perhaps she killed him because he reminded her of the one who abused her, Valteil? I did mention that Marina's battlesprite is based on Claudia Wolf, and it seems to me that Marina herself is based on Claudia Wolf, particularly in the way they both think about their fathers. Both utterly hate their fathers, yet they become upset upon their deaths. Claudia Wolf’s father, Leonard Wolf, and Father Domek also behave in a similar way. They both demean their daughters at first but soften their tone when they sense something is going wrong with them. Leonard Wolf’s statement, “She’s a fool, but she’s still my daughter,” perfectly summarizes how Father Domek acted. Additionally, Leonard Wolf was a massive religious fanatic, so Father Domek may share similar traits, this would explain a line from Marina’s backstory: “You had a suspicion that your father had something to do with this. He had always been too obsessed with blood magic, and you had learned that there were too many rites that demanded the blood of your loved ones to work.” Both Father Domek and Leonard Wolf are also antagonistic towards their daughters' pursuits, Leonard hates Claudia’s pursuit of Paradise, believing the non-believers are unworthy, and for Father Domek in this line: “Your father had always been antagonistic towards you and your pursuits.” The very reason Claudia deeply resented her father, Leonard, was due to his abuse—beating her and yelling at her whenever he believed she was being irreligious in his eyes, maybe Father Domek did the same to Marina, this would further add depth to this line from her backstory: “Just the idea of getting away from your condescending and stuck up father was enough to make the decision, not to mention the obvious benefits the Vatican City would have to offer.” 

GOINGGGGG BACK TO SAMARIE, SINCE ALLLLL THOSE WORDS ABOVE ABOUT MARINA SERVE TO CONTRIBUTE TO MY PONDERING—YES, PONDERING!—OF THE NATURE BEHIND SAMARIE’S MURDER OF MISTER DOMEK. PERHAPS, PERHAPS! THIS VERY DYSFUNCTIONAL RELATIONSHIP MARINA HAS WITH HER FATHER REMINDED SAMARIE OF VALTEIL AND HER?  Since Samarie couldn’t fight back against Valteil, she kills Father Domek who reminds her of Valteil to feel a sense of catharsis for her powerlessness. However, once she commits the act, there is no gratification. Instead, it intensifies her memories of her relationship with Valteil, particularly the isolation that forced her to become dependent on him. Samarie's statement that Father Domek was a vile man with a glimmer may actually refer to Valteil, but she desperately conceals this truth by playing onto the narrative that she’s obsessed with Marina, avoiding any direct reference to herself. So confronting her with accusations like, “You did it on purpose? What’s wrong with you?!” or “Your tears won’t bring him back to life” pushes her over the edge, due to the conflicted feelings about Valteil, because she was groomed, so these remarks nudge her to think about it more which drives her to lash out in fury, methinks.

So, putting everything together, here’s how the events unfold: After Valteil’s reign fully wanes, Samarie is left to grapple with the aftermath of abuse. In her desperation, she seeks out the outside world, having been isolated for so long under Valteil’s control. However, Samarie is triggered by Marina’s appearance, which bears a striking resemblance to Valteil—probably Marina's own ancient grandpa. Marina's appearance serves as a painful reminder of Samarie's relationship with Valteil. To avoid confronting this truth, Samarie convinces herself that what she feels for Marina is love, rather than a triggered fear response caused by Marina's resemblance to Valteil. To reinforce this delusion, she begins stalking Marina and gaslighting herself in the process. Through her stalking, Samarie learns about Marina’s dysfunctional family and discovers her strained relationship with her father. This further triggers Samarie, as it reminds her of her own relationship with Valteil, who ultimately faded away and left her behind. This realization threatens to unravel the narrative Samarie has created to avoid being triggered by Marina’s resemblance to Valteil. Because Marina’s appearance reminds her of her trauma, and her father becomes another reminder, her carefully constructed house of cards starts trembling, and Samarie knows she must act fast to keep it from collapsing. Enter Mr. Domek—the perfect scapegoat. In her twisted logic, Samarie decides that for her delusion to survive, Domek must disappear. He becomes more than just a person to her; he turns into a projection of Valteil. Unlike Marina, Domek doesn’t look like Valteil, which makes him bearable enough for Samarie to focus all her pent-up rage on him. So, she makes her move: Domek really has to go. Through this Samarie creates yet another narrative—the idea that “I did this all for her”—to rationalize her actions, when in truth, she simply cannot deal with her trauma. However, even after executing her plans, she finds no satisfaction. Desperate to maintain her fragile narrative, Samarie convinces herself that her actions are acts of devotion to Marina. This fragile mask begins to crack, especially when she claims that Father Domek was a pig who deserved to be melded with the church walls. In truth, her rage is directed at Valteil, who worked within the walls of the Vatican, not at Domek himself.Samarie remains the same broken "Dolly," still trapped in Humbert’s grip.“At the hotel, we had separate rooms, but in the middle of the night, she came sobbing into mine, and we made it up very gently. You see, she had absolutely nowhere else to go.”

But hey, that's just my take, eh? I love Samarie! She's like a giant bug lady I can study. I want to think of her more than just as a stalker, even if it seems far-fetched, especially the idea I had before—that before becoming the Uterus Doll and being renamed ‘Samarie,’ she might have originally been a child named Willem:

It’s about how Samarie’s human-form battle sprite, when turned sideways, aligns closely with the drawing of Willem meeting Pocketcat. Both the original Willem and Samarie wear long dresses with sharp collars and thin ribbons. Their right arms are pulled back while their left arms are extended forward. Similarly, their right feet are positioned forward, and their left feet are set back. Neither of them ever shows their left ear. Samarie’s right ear is visible, but her left ear is covered by her hair, emphasizing the importance of being on the right side. In the original Pocketcat book, Willem is depicted facing only to the right. However, in the second Pocketcat book in Termina, Willem is shown facing left, yet his left ear remains unseen, hidden by his hair. Still, this interpretation might be far-fetched and overcomplicates things further. 

The one thing I’m certain about Samarie, is that she is the Uterus Doll. My monkey brain caught onto a pattern for her Moonscorched form—it just clicks. (Pattern recognition! Woahhh, monkey, monkey!)

[tobiasdrake]

Dragon Ball Daima 01x13 - Surprise

And we're back. I think episode 12 was probably the halfway point for the series?

And holy shit. This is just gonna be non-stop bitching 'cause this is hands-down the worst episode of Dragon Ball Daima. I genuinely cannot imagine a worse episode than this existing.

This is worse than that time Gomah and Degesu spent half an episode watching Dragon Ball Z and nerding out over how much better of a show it was.

This guy's so fucking screwed. Gomah's never been a credible opponent, and now he's got both Dr. Arinsu and the Dragon Team gunning for him.

Degesu's reaction to shutting down Warp-sama is surprising. He legit acts like this is the most unthinkably vile thing anyone's ever done.

There's a bit of metaphysical whiplash going on here where it's like.

Oh shit! They're gonna, like, attack Warp-sama or kidnap Warp-sama or--

Oh, no. Warp-sama's just a machine. There's a switch in the basement they can use to turn Warp-sama on or off with at any time. It's fine.

BUT turning Warp-sama off is, like, the most heinous thing ever. Like, even for a bunch of fascists in the demon world, THIS is a bridge too far. How DARE.

Neva over here still trying to make krakens seem menacing after we already beat one's ass last episode.

It's fine. He never opens his eyes so he might not have seen that.

Yeah, crashing makes sense. Popping into Makai #2 just to grab the Dragon Ball and then skedaddling did seem a bit too easy. We already visited the former home of the Namekians. This is gonna be the former home of the Glind, then?

Yeah, but we've defeated two Tamagami. I think we'll be fine.

Bulma and Pansy nerding out about tech together is the best part of this episode. I haven't even finished the episode yet as I say this. I just know nothing's gonna top this.

^_^

The mega-hamsters are adorable and I kind of love them. XD But also they're only a threat because Vegeta's the only one actually willing to fight them.

I really hope this is going somewhere because we're halfway through the episode and this detour has, so far, been utterly inconsequential.

A "stranded in bear country" type episode generally serves the purposes of forcing a small number of characters into a tight situation where they'll have to interact with one another, building their dynamic with each other or forging one anew.

But we have the entire cast stranded in bear country and all we're doing is walking around going, "Sure is bear country around here."

Man, they really do think "what if things were very big" is in and of itself, interesting enough to carry an entire episode premise.

Over two minutes of this episode is just watching this kid sit down and have lunch while everyone goes "OH MY GOD IT EATS LUUUUUUUUUNCH!?!?!?!?"

Toei. You do not have a manga to keep pace with. You do not need to insert filler.

Just punch it really hard, Goku.

Thanks, Vegeta. You're the only character not pretending to be threatened by this stupid filler plot, and I appreciate you for that.

Sure, that might as well happen.

I mean, you're using 0.25% of your speed right now, and also you can teleport. But sure.

(sigh) Do I even need to say it?

Goku is choosing to lose this altercation.

At least Vegeta's kicking things up to a Super Saiyan form. He's not faring much better but, like, I can believe he's actually trying to win. That's what's important. It's not about the results, it's about selling the idea that this character is committed to the task that they're doing.

I dunno. Maybe you should just teleport and not be in this situation.

Maybe you should just teleport and not be in this situation.

God, we had a whole episode re-establishing Goku's ability to teleport and everything. This is literally the one and only character in the entire cast who can't be put in predicaments like this.

And now he's free-falling into a bag while screaming for his life.

This character who can both fly and teleport is trapped in free-fall and screaming for his life.

And it all culminates in a desperate last second dive to save Goku from being crushed, because he refuses to teleport out of IDK sportsmanship or whatever.

This is so boring. It's the first episode of Daima I actually had to force myself to finish because it was unwatchably bad. Absolutely nothing happened. We got lost in bear country and then proceeded to be menaced by bears because we forgot how our powers work.

This would fit right in as an episode of Dragon Ball GT. The first arc, were Trunks has to go Super Saiyan to lift some breaks and everyone keeps forgetting how to fly. That's how bad this is.

[nothingbutloveforyou]

can't remember the last time i didn't wish for love when i blew out candles, wished on shooting stars, or stray lashes, dandelions, just any opportunity i could get to make sure my desire was heard. oh well, here we are :)

[bacchuschucklefuck]

[stillfruit]

edward elric, protector of dogs (x)

[haru-chi]

-a bit Manga Spoiler ahead-

The more I think about it the more I just don't know what to feel about doing Miharu's arc before doing an extended hand story ><

tbh I feared them doing that and was talking about this with a friend before the Miharu's arc preview even dropped but since they did a pretty good job so far this season unlike the past two, I wanted to have faith ...

maybe it's fine to do it after which would result in different reaction yet reach the same end plus it's up to oneself to decide how to perceive something ...

personally speaking, I don't want Miharu's arc before the extended hand story ... for me it won't hit the same ...

don't get me wrong ... be it I saw it before or after I know Miharu's arc will always be special to me ...

but you know, being "special" hold different kind of meaning ... the Miharu's arc being "special" without an extended hand prior knowledge will be different than it being "special" with that knowledge beforehand .... it won't be same for me ... the experience will be different .. the reaction will be different ... I don't know if I make any sense but don't know how to explain it well enough ><

I'm not only talking about how Seiji's reaction is different in both stories when Natori offered him help .. nor am I talking about how their relationship in it was pretty positive by its end ...

it's something more than just those ...

a glimpse at Seiji's family burden

Seiji's sad wish of wanting a Shiki

Natori trying to understand him

it's those little details, those unspoken things that change your view of characters and character's reaction in stories ...

that's why when you read/watch Miharu's arc with this knowledge it makes it so different ... everything is just so different since Miharu's arc expand on those same ideas while adding more .. this same burden .. this same sad wish .. this same delicate and complicated relationship between Seiji and Natori ...

Miharu's arc something too special for me, that it felt unreal to have sometimes ... but I don't think it would've been so without an extended hand story ..

as I said it would've been still special even without it but wouldn't be the same kind of special :)

also, I guess the questions and mystery would've been different in a way too by the end of it or throughout the story ...

I know cuz what I asked about and was killing myself to know throughout Miharu's arc was questions I wouldn't have asked nor considered if I didn't know an extended hand beforehand ^^

anyway, in the end since the anime team decided to change the order of events, I hope Manga reader don't ruin anything for anime-only or spoil an extended hand for them for the sake of Miharu's arc (surely the anime will adapt it) or make them feel they're missing something out if they didn't ask for it themselves ...

let them live and enjoy their own type of experience and memories while we watch over them silently ^^

I'm only sharing my view and emotions regarding the matter since I can't deny I'm a bit sad since I wanted my friend to live through the same experience as close as possible but oh well ...

[sysig]

maybe... snufmin of some description for requestober

Day 18 - They're gossiping about you

[daily-hanamura]

[phoenixtakaramono]

There are only two episodes left in The Boys S4, but having seen the leaks and with what we got, I have some opinions.

My conspiracy theory is that they got too many cooks in the kitchen (writers in the writer’s room)—plus the writer’s strike and pandemic happening during this time—and it’s starting to make sense how they dropped the ball with this season.

[edwinspaynes]

.