#when he left again and again in my childhood

[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.

[vivwritesfics]

Series masterlist

You had never given him your address, so dinner was forgotten about. You never brought it up again, and neither did Oscar.

Until you were sitting at the vanity in your childhood bedroom, amelia watching as you got ready for the day. "Mama," whe began, the bench beneath you moving every time she swung her legs. "When is Oscar coming over for dinner?"

You stopped with your makeup the second the memories of asking him came flooding back. "I don't know, 'melia," you answered honestly, putting your foundation down. "But we'll ask him today."

Your daughter was a wild child. You couldn't control her. The second Oscsr entered your line of sight in the park, wearing his workout gear, Amelia ran towards him. Still holding Coopers pram, you couldn't catch up with her.

But you didn't need to worry. Oscar hugged her and held her hand, walking her back towards you. "My mummy wants to know if you can come to ours for dinner," she said.

No, Amelia was meant to ask, not ask for you. But that was exactly what had happened. Your eyes were wide as you looked at Oscar. He matched your expression.

But then he crouched down, meeting Amelia's height. "I'd love to, 'melia," he said and held out his hand, high fiving her.

***

It hadn't been easy to convince your mother and brother to leave for the night. With embarrassment written on your face, you confessed that you were having someone over for dinner.

A friend, just a friend. Yes, the friend that you, Cooper and Amelia met at the park. No, it's not something romantic. Yes you will kick him out before 10pm so they can come back.

Your brother was laughing at you as he and your mother left the apartment.

Getting all three of you AND the apartment ready was no easy task. You got amelia dressed, sparkly shoes and cute little bow in her hair. You put Cooper down to sleep and left his baby monitor on the kitchen counter, listening for him.

The ingredients for dinner were left out on the side, a bottle of white wine accompanying it.

Just before seven, there was a knock on the door. Amelia held your leg as you pulled the door open, revealing Oscar.

White shirt and jeans. It was a simple outfit, but it worked so damn well on him. You swallowed, holding back to inappropriate whistle you were ready to release and stepped aside to welcome him into your mother's apartment.

It was a little embarrassing. Single, with two kids, living in your mother's apartment. You didn't hide that fact from Oscar. It was the circumstances life had thrown that way, and you weren't going to let it hold you back.

Oscar sat at the table as Amelia showed him the crafts she had done at nursery. "And at Christmas we can make decorations! I wanna make something to put on grandma's tree!"

Oscar grinned as he looked at her paintings. "Would you make something for my tree, 'melia?" He asked and she nodded.

"Yeah!"

You laughed at your place at the stove. Every time Oscar asked if he could help, you shook your head and sat him back down, fingers lingering on his chest for longer than you meant for them to.

You picked up the baby monitor and listened for any noise from Cooper. Nothing. Your baby was fast asleep.

Plating up the foot, you sat opposite Oscar. You talked between bites of food, learning more about each other. It was more details than you'd discussed in the park, more intimate details.

About his childhood. His dreams (although he kept it brief). His family life, living in Australia, going to school in England. It was all so interesting.

After dinner, you put Amelia to bed. She was reluctant, making you use the stern mum voice. Amelia huffed as she got into her pyjamas. But she hugged you and climbed into bed.

Grabbing your glass of wine, you led Oscar over to the couch. He sat beside you and placed his own glass on the coffee table.

Tucking your legs beneath you, you sipped your wine. Oscar swallowed and asked the question that had been playing on his mind. "What happened for you to be living with your mum?" He asked, adding a quiet 'if you don't mind me asking'.

Your mother didn't even know what happened. Your hand shook as you put the glass down, looking back towards the hallway, to the room Amelia was sleeping in (your oldest brothers room had becomes hers for when you stayed over. Perks of giving birth to the first grandchild).

"Amelia's dad was an asshole," you muttered, folding your arms over your chest. "He was sweet all the time I was pregnant with Amelia and Cooper, but things changed the moment I gave birth. The shouting and screaming, spending all of the money I had saved to take care of my kids while I was out of work-" You didn't go into details about the worst bits. "-I knew I had to get out of there. So, I came to stay with my mother."

For a moment, Oscar was quiet. "Yeah," he agreed. "Sounds like an asshole."

You released a weak laugh. "Thank you for agreeing to this," you whispered, moving slightly closer to him. "Amelia really likes you."

"Is she the only one?" He asked it so fast, you almost didn't hear it. But you moved closer, pressing your lips against his cheek. When you pulled away, his cheek was stained with lipstick. You moved to wipe it away, but Oscar caught your hand, stopping you.

***

It was just before ten when Charles Leclerc escorted his mother back to her apartment. "She's fine, mama," Charles said as he pushed his key into the lock and twisted it. "She's a big girl now."

He opened the door and let his mother walk in. The apartment was quiet, but that was to be expected. You had kicked your date out, as you agreed, and Cooper and Amelia were asleep.

The kitchen was a state, not yet cleaned up after dinner. Pascale blew out the candle on the table and walked forward.

A gasp left her lips as she walked into the living room.

There you were, lips pressed against your dates cheek. But she knew your date, as did Charles.

"Oscar?"

[angelfishe]

𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐃 𝐆𝐀���𝐄 || 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐔

<< yandere VIP genshin men x reader >>

Character : zhongli, childe, ayato

When you enter the squid game to pay off your debt, you didn't realize your gonna be playing a life and death game as well meeting some old faces

Warning : slight mention of non-con intimacy

( This is something i wip out in the middle of the night sorry if it's bad )

# ZHONGLI

the owner of the liyue cooperation, a multi billion company

- You were married to him but got divorce because how possessive he was, he wouldn't let you go anywhere without body guards saying this world is dangerous. You will be better with him and you feel trapped inside the marriage so you eventually divorce him.

- the reason why you were in the squid game was because after the divorce you were staying with your mother who got herself in debt. So you take multiple jobs to pay off the debt, until a business man approaches you offering for you to play a game to pay off your debt.

- you manage to survive until the marble game where your partner decides to betray you, you thought you were gonna die until the soldiers of the game drag you into a luxurious room and In front of you was a man wearing a gold reindeer mask, he took it off revealing it's your ex husband

reader : "zho- zhongli"

Zhongli : " I told you my love, this world is a dangerous place and you would be safe with me, you don't need to worry about anything"

He proceeds to hug you

Zhongli : "I pay off your mother's debt as long as you promised you'll be mine again"

# CHILDE

A VIP that decided to play the game for fun

- you met him during the game the red light and green light game, you find it oddly weird that he seems to be enjoying it and as well having fun not bothering people are dropping dead.

- you manage to get along with him as well learning about his past and family, he seems to be fond of his little brother Teucer. He odly seems to recognize you ,Unfortunately he decided to sacrifice himself for you to live in the marble game.

- during lights out, you were dragged by the guards towards somewhere, you were struggling thinking you would die without saying goodbye towards your family, but instead you were put in a bedroom with a man in a red and black suit wearing a gold jaguar mask, saying if you want to leave the game you have to serve him in a way.

??? : "I'm surprised you don't recognize me and remember me"

Reader : who are you exactly

Childe : ( he took off the mask ) "it's me childe sweet heart, during childhood you and I were best friends and I promised you to marry you, don't worry sweetheart you don't have to worry about anything anymore cause after this let's fulfill the promised and get married"

#AYATO

Head of the most prestigious clan in the country as well the head of the yashiro prefecture

- former master of yours, you were his servant as well childhood friend but unfortunately stop serving his family because your grandfather has fallen with an Illness, you have to take care of him 24/7 meaning you to stop serving him. He tried everything to convince you not to leave but you still left.

- unfortunately the hospital bill has gotten worse and you eventually found yourself drowning in debt, until you were eventually invited into the squid game, unaware he planned this to happen, he's actually been stalking you looking for an opportunity to bring you back in his arms.

- you were Carried away by the guards when no one wants to partner with you, and you land yourself and kneel in front of a man with a gold owl mask. And he grabs your chin to look him straight to the eye and you recognize who's under the mask.

Reader : "master kamisato"

Ayato : "A clever girl manages to recognize me, that's my ( reader ) always able to recognize me"

Reader : why are you doing here

Ayato : "isn't't it obvious for you, I've been waiting for this moment for years and finally you're mine"

[zennjiwrlds]

“ FRIENDS. ” | lee myung-gi/player 333 x reader | sg drabbles

synopsis. no way he'd meet you, again — his "friend" since childhood. was he simply aware? no he fucking wasn't. he knew you weren't the type of person to be in debt either, unless he's just mistaken. though, why did you still managed to get in the games?

⠀⠀❕⠀⠀ warnings. spoilers???

⠀⠀❕⠀⠀ subj. i tried to make the reader's gender genderless. so if u see an issue in the process, pls tell me right away!! also pretend reader is REALLY good at gonggi. and erm, reader is indeed anxious and likes to fidget, a LOT.

a/n. can u acc tell im testing how ill write my aesthetics..... like erm hehennensjsjbajq im so indecisive im gonna explode into madness and rage 🔥🔥 also it's been quite a while since I've written.... idk weeks? months? who knows?? however, no beta so we explode young lolz erm... enjoy ig

⠀⠀ IT WAS MOMENTARILY baffling him, really. he thought he'd go on about his day whilst he played the games thoroughly without any issue being visible. but when he saw your distraught figure in red light, green light? his mind were a naught but dozens of clouded thoughts. he spoke to himself that it was just him hallucinating or perchance a dream yet a nightmare.

⠀⠀hell, he even thought you looked good.

⠀⠀ the way your free hand swept and dragged people's hair — moreover if they pissed you off. it reminded him how you'd also drag his hair when you were children, your laughter and serene aura gave him modest comfort. yet you disappeared without a trace. he was worried sick; where had you been?

⠀⠀ nonetheless, what irked him is you didn't give him a single glance, not even physical contact like you used to do. did you forget about him? it irritated him yet it made his demeanor worrisome. you made him feel abandoned. he wanted you to at least linger your gaze at him, even if it means the last time.

⠀⠀ did you still consider him as a friend, at this point? or did he become another stranger to you?

⠀⠀ although, his expectations were slightly different from what he previously had thought hence the second game was announced. momentarily, you were paired up with him. he hoped you would interact him, even if it means very little.

⠀⠀ “hi, " were the compact words that left your lips. oh, how he felt dreamy when he heard your voice for the first time. he wanted to have a full confab with you right now, he did. however, he acknowledged to himself that right now wasn't the time hence this event was a life or death occurrence. he knew to himself that he had to focus. though, his mind was currently filled with you. it was always you.

⠀⠀ people were seen struggling whilst doing the five minigames, though his team only struggled slightly. but you? he observed how you were merely nervous doing the gonggi. yet no issues came in your way. the way your fingers motioned every move of the stone—throwing the stones each one freely and efficiently—eyes chiefly focused on the tiny solid plastics one by one. the tension amidst the air erupting as you flip the stones with ease, the silence was loud yet there was enough murmurs for you to hear—one hand opening itself as the five stones were visible upon one's sight—the guard making an 'O' shape afterwards.

⠀⠀ your team was the first one to yell, a loud yet beamed yell. your heart simultaneously pounded on your chest as it rang clear on your ears, the relief washing over your occupied thoughts as you exhaled deeply, own pair of eyelids closed shut. yet myung-gi had his eyes placed on you, it was always you.

⠀⠀ by that means, you and your team had to go back to the lobby. though, he slightly notices how your walk were sloppy. like a turtle attempting to get back to the shore.

⠀⠀ REST, that's what you want to do. sleeping—closing your eyes whilst you sat down on your bunk, hoping that you'd do this for eternity. although, pair of shoes were perceived as the direction was going towards you, what's their problem now?

⠀⠀ opening your exhausted lids, you looked up forward, only to take sight of your friend from childhood—both hands in pocket the moment he looked at you. at the current occurrence, he looked like his mind was throbbing to speak to you, to talk with you. your gesture, but, leisure as you invited him to sit next to you silently, shrugging off your shoulders. your eyes looking at the opposite direction as his—a soft yet small smile tugged his lips.

⠀⠀ "y—you look uh, good," realizing his form of speech, he bit his lip rigidly, enough for it to slightly bleed, "...ah— i mean, you did good— out there, yeah.” now his breathing pattern were shivering. gee, did he also mention how hot it is?

⠀⠀ dull as ever, you nodded awkwardly, "thank you." he glanced at you to see your features again—nonchalance could be seen on your face. but did he see you just smile for a second?

⠀⠀ awkward silence occupied the tension, both friends sitting next to each other on the opposite ends of the bunk, myung-gi was hoping for a motion to appear from you but failed to avail.

⠀⠀ "why are you here?" he questioned you—fingers fidgeting was visible on your lap—few gazes that and there from him. "i could ask you the same question, " you responded swiftly, "...I'm here to start off a new life— to get money for future needs." breaths hitched, your anatomy rocking back and forth a little—which to others are you sitting still, yet for myung-gi? he acknowledged to himself that you were anxious, though from what?

⠀⠀"you're here because you're in debt, are you?" you added, his jaw tightened from the question— "crypto market? people bought your coin, right?" oh, so you were aware of the incident.

⠀⠀ "look, I—"

⠀⠀ "yap later, I'm too tired for that." you groaned, your eyebrows scrunching—lips thin as you sighed briefly. unfortunately, you were unable to meet his gaze, again. your hand waving thoroughly at his direction while you still refrained yourself from looking at him. he blinked till he chuckled lightly, gazing at your aggravated figure. "still like your old self, huh?"

⠀⠀ you breathed through your nose, your heart fluttering at his full, but, jaunty laughter. he still had that youth in him, you just know it. nevertheless, before you knew it, his own hand made contact with yours—gravity seems to slow down—the friction was dense yet observable. his smile was hesitant thus apparent, his face increasing in temperature as he still had the cheeky smile plastered on his facial features.

⠀⠀ you made no move whatsoever, you, in fact, did not know how to respond to physical contact that well so you were slightly distant compared to the previous times. you sat there, mind's blank and black. you both are friends, aren't you? he had always been this affectionate since you two were juveniles, then there's no issue evident for that, right?

⠀⠀ "we are friends, myung-gi." you stated.

⠀⠀"you mean more to me than that, [n]." he further alleges.

[solivagant242]

late night drives ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾

pairing: dean x childhood friend!reader

warnings: alluded childhood abuse/neglect, blood, mild angst, sickness

this is an entirely self-indulgent drabble since i haven't been able to get the fluff/soft memory/comfort trope out of my head- this is based on an aesthetic that i can't quite name.

comment if you want dean's pov!

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you didn’t know when it had become a tradition, something just for the two of you. maybe it was when you’d both been fourteen, stuck in the middle of nowhere, each with fathers that didn’t want to come home. 

maybe it was when you had begun hunting and taken the impala on the road. when the stress of all the blood and sweat and death started getting to you.

either way. it didn’t matter.

the air is so warm it feels almost like bathwater. that doesn’t stop you from shivering, though, wrapping your arms around yourself. your hair is still wet from the burning shower you’d taken, the shower that had left blood swirling down the drain and the fresh slices and stabs on your skin stinging and twining. 

you’re in the passenger seat, the one where sam normally is. you’re not sure if his towering height is responsible for why the seat feels so huge, too low to the ground, as if his weight has pressed it down.

dean is driving.

you don’t normally look at him during these drives. or even pay attention to him, for that matter; times like these are spent in a wordless appreciation of the other’s silence, each of you battling whatever demons have clawed their way from the depths of your minds this time. 

but this time you do, through half-closed eyelids. 

his face looks more relaxed than it did half an hour ago, jaw soft instead of clenched. the shadows under those green eyes haven’t dissipated, though. 

you doubt they ever will. 

drowsily you rest your head on the side of the impala, the soft turns and pauses at stoplights lulling you into a doze. 

you used to be scared of falling asleep. nightmares would flock behind your eyes, black shards of ice stabbing into your skull and leaving you screaming in the dead of night. before you went on the road with the winchesters, you’d spend hours lying on the slant of your bedroom roof, silent tears trickling coldly into your ears till you couldn’t cry anymore. 

even after you’d formed your own messy little broken family with sam and dean, you’d been scared to fall asleep. you still remember how your mom had left in the dead of night when you were eight. you had heard the door open and close, a tiny little dismissive sound audible through the chirping of the frogs outside. 

she hadn’t ever come back, and you knew you wouldn’t be seeing her again.

the cigarette burns on your hand tingle in relief at the thought.

you don’t know when you became okay with sleeping with the winchesters around. somewhere in between the falling and flying of delirium, of a hunt gone wrong and more medicine than you thought possible pumping through your veins.

dean had stayed up with you for two nights in a row. his calloused fingers had been gentle as they carded through your hair, pushing it back from your sweaty forehead, even when you thrashed around and nearly fell off the bed.

he’d caught you and deposited you back under the covers. 

“it’s okay, sweetheart. sleep. please sleep.”

you had slept soundly ever since then. 

a brighter light blinks across your eyelids and you stir a bit, letting your eyes blur into focus. 

the sky is a rich shade of blue, deepening to midnight at its peak and broadening to pale gold nearer the horizon. a few creamy stars are scattered across its expanse.

stoplights and gas station signs flicker past. more lights- cherry-red, neon green, and bright yellow. 

it’s all a blur, a soft, sleepy blur cloaked in the light hum of the impala. dean shifts and mumbles something that you can’t quite catch, and somehow his voice and the smell of the cheap ivory soap he always uses is soothing.

you close your eyes and drift off into another vaguely remembered dream.

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[nikethestatue]

When Elain Flew

A fluffy one shot. For @riafalcone1

"Which way are we going now?" Elain asked.

"West."

She furrowed her brow and muttered, "Which way is west?"

"West is west. The way we are going now," Azriel couldn't help but smile.

Cauldron-given powers apparently didn't extend to any of this Archeron sisters' understanding of West, East, North or South.

Even when he was training Feyre to fly, he needed to tell her 'right' or 'left' because once when he mistakenly said 'we are going North' she flew into a pine tree.

Elain scoffed at him and he laughed.

"That's stupid," she complained.  "Why can't you just say right or left?"

"Fine. We are going leftish."

Leftish.

Azriel was a liar. In fact, he loved lying. He loved deceiving. Sometimes, he did it maliciously. Mostly, it was a battle of wits with someone. Usually, he won.

Today, he was lying again. This time, to the girl that he loved. To his Elain, who was safely nestled in the circle of his arms, gently clutching at his neck. She trusted him and she wasn't afraid of heights, so she wasn't strangling him half to death, unlike Nesta, for example. In fact, she was a little too unafraid,  swinging her legs and wiggling against his chest, trying to get a better look. Today, just like every other day, when they needed to fly somewhere, Azriel lied and told her that for whatever magical reason, he couldn't winnow. Therefore, it was imperative that they flew. Of course he could've winnowed them--even here, to the Prison --and they could've walked the rest of the way, but to Hel with that. He much rather preferred to carry his wiggling brazen girl.

"What is that?!!"

Elain's excited cry of wonder and amazement alerted him, and his shadows swarmed around them as a precaution.

"Nooooo," she yelled loudly. "Take them away! Shoo-shoo!" she waved her arms, almost fucking falling out of his hold, trying to disperse the shadows.

"Careful," he snapped at her, put pulled the shadows back.

She ignored his tone and pointed out into the skies.

"There!" she exclaimed.

Ahhh. Now Azriel understood.

3 Pegasi were flying through the air, not too far from the two of them. He wasn't sure if anyone had noticed, but since the arrival of the Archerons in Prythian, a small herd of white and black Pegasi appeared on the grassy hills around the Prison. Legend had it that that's where they originated--in Dusk Court, where the Prison now stood. But over time, sickness took them, and their numbers dwindled, all the remaining Pegasi being stabled in Day now. Yet, a little over a year ago, a new, small herd just seemed to appear out of nowhere. Azriel had spotted them before, but he kept his mouth shut. Only Rhys was aware of their existence, and the two of them had an unspoken agreement not to let anyone else know, least of all Helion.

"It's a flying horse!' Elain cried in shock.

"It's a pegasus."

"I know what it is!!' she interrupted him impatiently. "I want one."

He hummed and told her gently, 'I don't know if you can just 'have one', Elain."

"Why not?"

"They are wild horses. They are extremely difficult to tame," he explained.

At that she huffed, like his explanation made no sense.

"I was a good rider when I was younger. I love horses. I had a pony named Marigold when I was a girl. She was a beautiful golden mare."

Her expression became pensive and a little sad.

"What happened to her?" Azriel asked softly.

Elain shrugged.

"She was sold. Like everything else. Like my childhood. Like Feyre's. Everything was sold."

He didn't respond, but banked and descended towards the grassy knolls of the island.

"They are coming with us!" she pointed out, when the Pegasi began dropping down from the sky.

Azriel knew that they wouldn't approach and that they were skittish and avoided Fae as much as possible.

He landed carefully and Elain jumped out of his arms, rushing towards the horses.

"Here horsey, horsey!" she called them. "I wish I had an apple! Or a carrot!' she lamented.

Azriel didn't have either, so there wasn't anything that he could do about that.

"El, come on," he beckoned her, but she waved him off.

"Ugh, give me a moment, Azriel! Whatever monster we have to talk to in there won't be going anywhere any time soon."

He chuckled.  She wasn't wrong.

So he stood and watched her, because that was his favourite thing to do in the world anyway.

And then, something remarkable happened. He stilled, watching with bated breath as one of the white mares cautiously, slowly headed towards Elain's direction. He stepped forward and the horse neighed angrily, as if she didn't want him near. He slowed and then stopped.

"Hello Mari," Elain murmured, opening her arms to the horse. "Come, beautiful girl. Come to me."

The Pegasus stepped closer and then closer still, until it towered over Elain, and pressed its nose into Elain's hair. Delicate fingers with short nails stroked the silky white mane and the horse nosed into Elain’s hand and then her shoulder, purring softly. 

“You are so pretty,” Elain cooed. “The prettiest girl in Prythian! Next time I come here, we’ll bring you a bushel of apples and carrots.”

Shit. Azriel winced. He’d have to carry Elain and a bushel of apples? And knowing her, it would be a large bushel. So be it. After all, he carried her and Briar, and his wings were fucked up and the king was shooting arrows at them, and he needed to guide Feyre, his High Lady, and coax her into flying. And he managed just fine. 

He could carry a bushel of apples and carrots, along with his girl.

Not many things shocked Azriel, but when the white pegasus gracefully lowered herself on the grass in front of Elain, he was genuinely shocked. This didn’t happen. He wasn’t lying when he said that they were indeed wild horses and taming them was near impossible.

Yet, here was one, willingly sliding to her knees in front of a Fae. 

Elain didn’t know how incredible this was. She was just excited. 

Throwing a tentative glance over her shoulder at Azriel, she stepped closer and then hiked her skirt up, exposing her legs, and then, to his utmost surprise, her pale soft thighs. This was turning into a much better trip than he planned. Only what she did next made him exclaim, “no, no, no. Get off! Right now!”

“No!” she sat on the horse and hugged it around the neck. “No way. I am not getting off.”

“Yes you are!” he threatened. “Remember how we discussed not putting yourself in danger needlessly. This is danger!”

“This isn’t danger,” she said incredulously. “This is a horse. My horse. My Marigold.”

And the moment the pegasus heard the name Marigold, she threw her wings out, almost knocking Azriel back on his ass and without any preamble, shot into the air.

Oh, Mother’s tits! No. No, no, no.

He rushed to catch up with them, while Elain screeched happily, hair flying around her, her cheeks red, the skirt billowing around her bare thighs, as she squeezed the horse’s flanks with her ankles. 

“Elain, I swear on the Cauldron, I will beat your bottom!” he yelled, flying closely to the pegasus.

She only laughed.

“What if I like it?!” she teased. 

It was his turn to flush. This girl was incorrigible. She didn’t listen. She was headstrong. And now she was flying next to him on a pegasus that she didn’t even need to tame.

She.

Was.

Flying.

The realization came to both of them at once. 

Elain was flying.

Next to Azriel. 

He was the first one to ever see her fly. He was the first one to ever see her joy, and her freedom. 

Suddenly, he recalled their first dinner together. She was still human. He was brought to his knees by her beauty. And she asked him, "Can you truly fly?” And he answered with something overly poetic and was hoping pathetically that she’d like his answer. He said that they were born hearing the song of the wind.

But now, it wasn’t just him and Cassian and the Illyrians.

It seemed that Elain was also born hearing the song of the wind.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Sugar & Spicy Books Chapter 5

Summary:  Y/N is an accomplished writer who is newly divorced, and out of fear of the unknown, moves back to her small hometown she swore she’d never come back to.  She comes across her best friend that never left, who helps her out of a tough spot.  Will old feelings arise?  Or is she just too big for such a small place now?

Warnings:  language, smut

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Y/N settled into life in Woodstock.  Bucky fixed up her Beetle and she was able to drive her and Autumn around more easily while he had his own car at work.  While Autumn was in school she got started on writing her next book.  Her agent had been bugging her about getting started on the next one as soon as possible, but she was drawing a blank on what to write.  

“Ugh,” she groaned one night, erasing the words she’d written on her laptop as Bucky came out of the bathroom.

“Still having writer’s block?” he asked, taking off his shirt and crawling on the bed towards her.

“Yes,” she sighed, closing the laptop and setting it aside as he crawled over her lap and laid across her front in between her legs, his arms enveloping her as he started kissing her chest.  “I usually have at least a couple of rough ideas in my head but this time I’m just struggling to come up with something.”

Bucky nuzzled up to her throat, kissing and licking his way to her jaw.  “You could write about…us?” he suggested quietly.

“Us?” she smirked, closing her eyes as his lips traced up to her ear, hoisting himself back up on his hands so he could reach her face better, caging her against the headboard.

“Yeah,” he smiled.  “Childhood friends, separated by time and life, come back together by a stroke of luck, or fate, whatever you wanna call it.  Then they fall in love, realizing that they were always each other’s endgame.”

Y/N smiled widely as he pulled away slightly to look at her.  She hummed as she looked him over.  “You would make a great romantic lead,” she teased, nuzzling his nose.  

“You think so?” Bucky chuckled, nuzzling her back.

“Oh definitely,” Y/N said, leaning in and kissing his cheek.  “With your pretty face?  And those steely blue eyes?  You could be on the cover.”

Bucky hummed.  “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N breathed, kissing his jaw and reaching up to scratch at his chin.  

“I’d love to read about our first weekend together from your point of view,” he said.  “‘Cause I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.”

Y/N chuckled.  “Really?”

“Really,” he nodded.  They had been together a few times since that first weekend, but never had been able to be as passionate or enthusiastic as that first time with a child in the house.  He kissed her lightly, giving her short pecks.  “As much as I love us being here, together, with Autumn, I really miss being able to make you scream.”  Y/N shivered at his words, her eyelids fluttering as she chased after his lips.  “You make the prettiest noises when we don’t have to be quiet to protect young, impressionable ears,” he smirked before reaching a hand up and gripping her jaw and kissing her deeply.  Y/N gasped against his mouth and moaned loudly.  “Sshh honey,” he whispered against her lips.  “She’s sleeping.  It’s a school night.”

Y/N whined, her head falling back against the headboard with a thump, making him laugh.  “So mean to me,” she pouted.

Bucky suddenly maneuvered her to a laying down position, hovering over her as his hands started feeling her all over.  “I guess we’re going to have to work on some material for quiet sex for your book,” he said, kissing down her chest again, pulling her sleep tank up and off of her.  Y/N was surprised.  Her ex-husband would have died of embarrassment if she had ever written about their relationship specifically in one of her books.  Bucky wanted her to write about them, he wanted to help her create the story, to inspire the sex scenes.  “God, I love these,” he breathed, nuzzling her breasts and kissing and licking over them.  “Remember how I said your stories made me horny?”

“Yeah?” Y/N asked breathily.

“Mhm,” he nodded, sucking at her nipple.  “Reading all those spicy sex scenes, knowing it was you that wrote them?  Got me so fucking hard every…single…time,” he emphasized his words by dry humping her.

Y/N moaned quietly.  “I think I’ve got an idea going,” she smiled, her fingers running through his hair how he liked.  “Spicy book writer and her childhood best friend turned hot mechanic?”

Bucky hummed again, pulling off her sleep shorts and underwear then smiling against her skin as he peered up at her.  “Sounds like a best seller already,” he smirked before dipping his head between her legs and eating her out like his life depended on it.

Y/N gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, her other hand gripping his hair.  Her legs instinctively tried to close around his head, and his hands pushed them back apart then looped his arms around her thighs to keep them apart.  She didn’t know where he’d learned to do this, but he was an expert as he kissed, licked, sucked and slurped at her pussy, his tongue diving as deep as it could inside her then flicking her clit fast.  There was no rhyme or reason, always keeping her on her toes with the randomness of his movements as he took his time.  It was like he was making out with her core, sucking at her lower lips, kissing the crease between her pussy and her thighs then tickling her there by licking at the area, then teasing close to her ass.  Her hips started to grind against his face, searching for release as her thighs deliciously burned from his beard.

With just a few more precise sucks and licks and a deep hum into her core she was cumming, biting back a whimper as her hand still covered her mouth, her heavy breaths from her nose huffing against her knuckles.  “Good girl,” Bucky groaned against her as he licked up what she gave him.  “My good, quiet girl.”  He hauled himself up as she trembled through an aftershock, kissing up her body until he grabbed her hand and moved it away from her mouth so he could kiss her deeply.  It was wet from her slick, sloppy and dirty, making her head swim as the desire built up in her core again.  “Taste so good, honey.  Tastiest pussy.  Fuck, I could just eat you out all day.  Can I fuck you?  Please?” 

Y/N huffed a laugh.  “I don’t know if I can be quiet through that.”

“You can,” Bucky said, slotting himself between her legs, pulling his boxers down just far enough down his thighs so he could hold his cock and rub it through her pussy, lubing himself with her slick.  The tip rubbed across her clit, making her hips jerk, and she bit her lip to stop herself from moaning.  “See?  You’re doing so well already,” he said, his free hand reaching up and his thumb pulling at her bitten lip.  “You’re gonna be so good for me as I…” he slowly started to push into her, watching her face as her mouth dropped open in a silent moan, exhaling sharp, punctuated breaths at each inch he inserted.  “Shit, look at you, being so quiet, I knew you could do it,” he praised her as his hips became flush with hers.  “Look at this pretty pussy, welcoming me home.  Goddamn, Y/N.  I can’t get over this.  Finally getting to have you after all this time.”

“That’s a good line,” Y/N whispered shakily.  “Can I use that?”

Bucky chuckled at her.  “You can use everything, honey.  I want you to write every little detail about this,” he leaned back down over her, rutting into her with shallow thrusts, teasing her with it.  “I want your ex to read it and be embarrassed at how he couldn’t get you off like this.  I want him to know how much better you are without him, by yourself, and with me.”  Y/N tried to breathe through the deep pleasure she felt at his possessiveness, imagining Raf’s shocked face if he read about a version of her getting fucked like she’d always wanted and written about, with this man being such a dirty talker and talking her through it.  “My good girl, being so quiet and tasting so sweet, just for me.”  His thrusts got harder and faster.  Her pussy fluttered around him, already so close after he’d made her cum earlier.  “Mmh, you like it hard and deep, dontcha honey?  None of that vanilla shit.  You like it when I’m rough with you?”

Y/N almost moaned loudly but he covered her mouth with his hand.  She nodded against his hand, her eyes pleading with him for more.  “I’m gonna plan another weekend just for us, that way I can have you screaming for me again.  You make such pretty noises, I have to hear it.  The way you say my name makes me go fucking crazy.”  

She hummed into his palm, licking him slightly as he pounded into her.  “FUCK!” he loudly whispered.  He moved his hand to a different position, his thumb prodding at her lips.  “Open up, Y/N.”  She opened her mouth and he dipped his thumb in, and she immediately started licking and sucking at it, her hands holding his wrist tightly.  “That’s it, Jesus…you’re so good, honey, you know that?  So fucking good.  So sweet to me.  You were always sweet, but seeing you like this, taking my cock and sucking my fingers…fuck…” He leaned back a little, the hand at her mouth gripping her cheek while his free hand moved down and his middle finger started rubbing her clit fast.  Y/N shuddered hard against him, her orgasm fast approaching.  “Cum for me, Y/N.  Squeeze me like only you can.  Let me fuck you full.  Holy fuck, yes!”

She came again, her body seizing as she stiffened and shook under him, her ankles digging into his ass to keep him deep inside her as she gushed around him, a low whine coming from deep in her throat and vibrating around his thumb.  Bucky gritted his teeth, grunting as he pummeled into her a few more times before cumming inside her, fucking her through her aftershocks and continuing to flick her clit.  Y/N’s eyes rolled as one aftershock turned into another mini orgasm and ripped through her, her body going limp.  Bucky couldn’t seem to get enough and kept flicking and rubbing her clit, smiling at her cockdrunk expression as she milked it out of him.  When he finally let up she breathed heavily, trying to return back to the land of the living.  

“I’m still hard, you feel that?” he asked quietly, pulling himself out of her and slapping his cock against her pussy, making her shake again.  “Can I fuck your face?  Get that last little bit out in your mouth, huh?  You wanna taste me?”

Y/N nodded lazily.  In this state all she could focus on or think of was him and all things him.  Suck their combined cum off his cock?  “Please,” she hummed.

Bucky moved her so she was laying on the bed still but her head was slightly leaning back off the edge.  He stood by her head and pumped his cock in front of her face.  “Suck me off, honey,��� he said, prodding the tip at her lips.   Y/N opened her mouth obediently and he shoved it into her mouth, making her gag lightly before she hummed and opened wider, licking and sucking at him as he thrust in and out.  “Oh my god, you’re so good at that.  Fuck, Y/N, goddammit…shit!” he groaned.  She preened at the praise, her stomach fluttering with the pride she held at making him feel good.  It wasn’t like she was an expert at giving head, and had done it before, but with Bucky she truly enjoyed the feeling of his heaviness on her tongue, how much he stretched her mouth, the taste, and when he took control like this, the way he would use her but also be so attentive and caring to make sure she was comfortable.  He leaned forward and dipped his fingers inside her, a squelching noise sounding from in between her legs as his fingers fucked his cum deeper into her, his thumb rubbing her clit again.  She moaned too loud and his free hand wrapped around her throat and squeezed, making her gasp and her throat constrict around him.  “Be good, honey.  You gotta be quiet, remember?”  

He pulled out until she could suck at the head of his cock, her tongue rolling around him repeatedly and at the slit in the head of his cock.  Tasting his and her cum on her tongue as his fingers fucked her was making her delirious.  “I’m gonna cum again, fuck, you ready?  I’m gonna fuck your throat,” he warned her before pushing all the way in, and she struggled to swallow him down far enough.  Bucky groaned at the outline of his cock bobbing in her neck, his hand squeezing her throat lightly again and his thumb running along the outline of himself with each thrust.  She had another mini orgasm around his fingers, and Bucky shivered hard as he came again, his cock pulsing in her throat as she tried to swallow the hot spurts of his salty sweetness.  Bucky slowly pulled himself out of her mouth, his hand rubbing her jaw gently and helping lift her back up onto the bed until she was lying back normally.  “Open up, honey, let me see,” he whispered.  Y/N opened her mouth wide, sticking her tongue out, and he hummed in satisfaction.  “Good girl, swallowing all of me,” he said, then kissed her deeply, unafraid of tasting himself.  “You okay, love?”

Y/N nodded, her eyes closing tiredly.  “Yes, Sugar,” she whispered.

Bucky chuckled and kissed her again.  “Go to sleep, honey.  I’ll take Autumn to school in the morning.  You just rest, and dream of some good plot points.”

[wolfsong-the-bloody-beast]

@ghost-type-eevee

I can't believe somebody's actually asking for more of my rambling. That's so nice of you to say, though! Have a picture of Alistair with a lamppost I made in the DAO Toolset years ago, just because.

(Except, I don't think there are metal lampposts in Origins, so this one had to do, haha.)

As for Alistair and the Wardens, he definitely also thinks they're the good guys. Though with him, I think his beliefs come from a different dimension than Blackwall's and Wynne's.

Alistair is very young in Origins. He's 20 at best. Most importantly, though, the game gets extensively into how lonely his whole childhood was. How because he was a bastard child, he was given away to Arl Eamon as a little boy. How that was the only family he truly had back then, yet he wasn't even allowed to build a proper connection with him, because Eamon's wife didn't want him around. She was too worried he might make her look bad, and that was more important than the little boy's wellbeing. The old fool Eamon caved and gave him away. Yet again, he was abandoned. But even before that, he spent his time lonely, with Eamon's dogs for company. So, he ended up in the Chantry, undergoing training to be a templar, effectively trapped in an organization that he didn't like (And which he saw for what it was! How scary is that?), training for a job he didn't want to do. Awful place for a child. Even more awful when you know you might have to spend your whole life there. And you'd think he'd find friends there - surely there must have been other kids around his age? But coming from Arl Eamon, the other kids thought he was putting on airs, he said, so he was alone yet again. He grew up like this. Saying that it must have been absolutely miserable, probably doesn't even begin to cover it, I think.

And then... Duncan came and got him out. Impossible to imagine what that must have been like. Alistair makes it clear he genuinely believes that Duncan saved him, that he did it out of the goodness of his heart. Not only that, but Duncan also became his father figure. Among the other Wardens, he found friends, brothers. Finally, probably for the first time in his life, he had a social circle, he had company, friends. Duncan is the closest thing he'd ever had to a father. Finally, he wasn't alone.

And, in the end, what's more worthwhile than killing monsters, anyway? It sure beats decapitating terrified young mages.

But you know all that! However, I'm saying all this because... I think his opinions of the Wardens are heavily influenced by that. Especially that. The Wardens are the good guys, because that's how he's experienced them. The Wardens are friends and family. The Wardens make good things happen.

In comparison with Blackwall, though, Alistair is an actual Warden. He lives the reality of it. He saw Duncan kill Jory during the Joining ritual. He watched as the new recruits drank what's basically poison with a high chance of killing them. I don't think his ideas of the Wardens are as knightly as Blackwall's, but he still does have a high opinion of them. He would probably agree with Wynne, anyway. In part, I suppose, also simply because Alistair himself is a goody-two-shoes. And with him and the Warden being the only surviving Grey Wardens in Ferelden, who's going to be there to argue proper methods anyway?

Funnily enough, if you have Alistair as the Warden for Inquisition, it is his strong moral compass and common sense, his refusal to follow the principle that the Blight must be defeated by any means necessary, that helps put an end to Corypheus' plans and save whatever is left of the order at Adamant. He was the only one who protested agaist the Wardens making rather dubious allies, to say the least, to the point that the order started hunting him. Which led the Inquisitor to join forces with him, in the end. (Of course, the order also ends up hunting Stroud and Loghain, but I haven't had them in my game yet, so I can't speak for them.)

And yet! Despite all that, he still defends the Wardens in all the arguments they have with Hawke. He just wants the Wardens to be the good guys so much. And all things considered, I guess I can't blame him.

I'm kind of obsessed with Blackwall's idealized ideas about the Wardens. He was once picked up by a Warden and lulled by the promise of atoning for his crimes and turning his life around, only for that opportunity to slip away when the Warden not only saved him, but sacrificed his own life to do it. This whole experience makes our Blackwall become a Warden in heart, if not in blood, but with his own ideas of what a Grey Warden should be - noble, brave, inspiring, heroic, self-sacrificial. Everything he now wants to embody. He knows well that he's not there, but he wants nothing more than to start from scratch and be that.

In his beliefs, he reminds me a bit of Wynne in Origins who tells the Warden at some point that the Grey Wardens are supposed to be more than killing machines and weapons against the blight.

“There’s more to being a Grey Warden than killing darkspawn and saving the world from the Blight. Ultimately, being a Grey Warden is about serving others, about serving all people, whether elves or dwarves or men. As a Grey Warden, you are a guardian of men. And you guard them because their continued existence is more important than you are.”

However, we know that's not exactly how it works. That's what they want the Wardens to be. The light against darkness. The shield against monsters.

Although it's not entirely wrong, either, I suppose, all things considered. The more darkspawn they obliterate and push back, the more people are protected from them. Of course, sacrificing their lives to fight literal monsters, which means those same monsters don't eat everybody's kids, ultimately is heroic, and it's something that must have been born out of the need to protect the world and its inhabitants (from the Blight). But to have idealized opinions of the Wardens to this degree, you have to ignore all the other shady stuff and the mentality we, as players, also know the Wardens for. The fact that the Wardens are primarily weapons to slay darkspawn, prevent and end Blights, by any means necessary. The last part is important. After all, they are the Grey Wardens, not the White Wardens. They recruit from all walks of life and are famous for taking in criminals. Not to redeem themselves and get a second chance at life, but because they usually have nowhere to go and nothing left to lose. It's not a coincidence that each of the Origins gets chosen by Duncan, not only because he sees them as capable, but also because they are in a situation they can't escape from. Either they join the Wardens, or they're done for.

We know the Wardens from a few games now, but does the public in the setting even know? Does the average person have any idea how far the Wardens are willing to go? Besides grand stories of slaying monsters in the dark and preventing the end of the world? Probably not. The order is very secretive. And it explains a lot. The Wardens end up sounding almost romantic, when being a Warden is anything but. Is it ignorance talking out of these characters? Perhaps.

It once again shows us this aspect of Dragon Age where you can't take everything a character says as a fact, because the setting is full of people who have no idea what they're talking about, but who are absolutely convinced that they do.

And yet, I can't help but also like Wynne's and Blackwall's romantic ideas about what the Wardens are or should be, almost knights in shining armour and all that. They're fairy tales, but they're beautiful fairy tales. And I can't fault the characters for wanting to believe it or even live it. Especially in case of Blackwall, who sees it as a way to make up for the crimes he committed, somewhat. In the end, this might actually be a bigger draw to join the Wardens than, "Got nowhere to go? Come suffer horribly and probably die gruesomely with us!" It all sounds great on paper, though. I can't fault Davrin for trying to find purpose in life by becoming a monster hunter, either.

And maybe a little bit of idealism doesn't hurt. Not only it's good motivation, but in the end, doing things by "any means necessary" doesn't always pay off, either. It led the Wardens into all kinds of trouble, like getting tricked into employing dangerous forms of blood magic and demon summoning, basically into doing their enemy's work for them. In their determination to win at any cost, they helped trigger a cataclysmic event. Maybe having some principles isn't so bad after all.

In the end, I can appreciate that we get to see the clash of the old and new blood in Veilguard, where there's hope for the order to transform into an organization that's less secretive, less exclusive, and hopefully less prone to letting corruption spread through its ranks and make other devastating mistakes. Duncan once said that letting people join the Wardens isn't an "act of charity", and I like how Evka and Antoine go, "Yeah, you know what? Fuck that." And that likely inspires more loyalty. I imagine Blackwall would like that.

[glorifiedstreetmagician]

To My Dearest

Three letters from Haku Kusanagi to Zenji Kotodama that he did not send and one that he did. Thank you @danieyells for the inspiration. This is dedicated to @zenji-kotodama-official, for hopefully obvious reasons.

[unsent]

Zenji,

This is the sort of thing you would do. But now I find myself sitting at my desk, the weight of the time spent apart hanging over me like an axe about to drop, and I'm writing a letter you'll probably never see. I'm pretending to write to you anyway. Rui said it might help me figure my feelings out if I wrote them down like this, but after ten of these already I'm starting to think I'm doing this just because it feels like the only way I can speak my mind to you while you're not here.

It reminds me of the time I found a poem left on your desk when you weren't there. You wrote of a ghost of a poet and an heir to a shrine. I didn't read it all—I won't pretend to have had the patience or the nerve to try at the time—but I still think about it. You were trying to tell me something and I wish I knew what.

I shouldn't have told you what I did, that I wished I had kissed you when I had the chance. I should have said that I'd still try. You still reach for the people around you with such reckless love, like that time you moved for my hand and fell through your own bed. Your embarrassment was priceless. Oddly beautiful, too. And if you'd let me try to embarrass myself, just once, I'd try to kiss you, ghostly air and all.

It's shameful. Sometimes I lay awake at night, curled up on my side and staring at my door, asking myself what I did wrong. But I know I've done plenty wrong. Even so, I wish you'd just talk to me. I miss you. I hate that I miss you.

You're so annoying, but why did I have to get used to your annoyingness? Why do I miss it? Why do I yearn for just one more obnoxiously loud song, one more melancholic poem, one more masterpiece played on your biwa with your imperious voice demanding I record?

I hate you. I hate you for making me cry. I hate you for being gone. I hate you for not talking to me. I hate you for your silence more than your noise ever annoyed me. Please come back. Please be silent somewhere I can see you again. Just please come back. Come back and be your annoying self and I won't complain again. I won't roll my eyes. I won't tease. Just come back to me, Zenji.

Why do you avoid me? Is it so terrible if I want you, alive or dead? Is there really no other way for us to have our happily ever after? Is there a reason you won't try with me?

Haku

[unsent]

Dear Taro,

Do you remember the day we first met? It was the start of second year for us both, though I didn't really know you until I first stepped foot into Hotarubi, my new dorm at the time. To be honest, I don't really know why I chose it when I'd hardly spent any time there before I left Frostheim. I guess it just reminded me of home.

That first day though, it didn't feel exactly like home. It felt a bit like betrayal when I walked in, knowing who I'd left behind. I was quiet, and then there you were. An explosion of colour and fabric, pale skin glowing even in the dim mists of Hotarubi, and I could swear your eyes sparkled. You were all smiles and friendly chatter, welcoming me like I was just some childhood buddy you hadn't seen for a long time. You didn't even know me.

And you wouldn't leave my side. You said "hi" to at least a dozen people on the way to showing me my room, but stuck by me. At mealtimes, you were there. In the evening, you walked me back to my room even when I said I remembered the way. You did the same the day after that and the day after that and, seemingly, almost every single day forward. I'm not sure you knew it, but you made those first months bearable for me. I'm not sure I ever thanked you for that.

I've always been ungrateful when it comes to you. For your life, your company, and your smile.

What I'd give to see your smile again.

Sorrowfully, Haku

[unsent]

Dearest Taro,

I see the way she looks at you. I see the way you look at her. I've never been a jealous man. At least, not until now. She brings so much more life to you, and for someone always on my case for flirting, you certainly charm the hell out of her.

We talk now, but it doesn't feel the same as before the ball. I wish we'd never gone. I wish I hadn't asked you to dance. I'd undo it all if it meant you wouldn't keep averting your gaze from me when I'm in the room.

What does an honor student have that I don't? Why will you entertain her and not me?

How much longer will this go on?

Yours, Haku

[the downturned card]

Haku didn't show up to the wedding. How could he go on pretending to be perfectly serene and happy, seeing two of his friends get what they always deserved and he selfishly wished against?

The closest he made it was a short distance from the reception, under the shade of a tree grown into the form of a bench. It was wrapped in white and soft indigo ribbons, purple roses tucked among them. That was where he left his folded-up letter.

He glimpses Zenji in the distance, dressed down for this part after the ceremony, considering it was only for close friends. Who would have thought that all the ghouls would not only help lift not just a curse, but a spirit from the dead to allow this newlywed couple to stand here today? Zenji moved and interacted with the world with so much grace and enthusiasm. Every step, every wave of his hand, every turn of his head filled Haku with a love so deep and aching that it hurt.

Love. He had fallen in love with his old friend. It was a terrifying, tragic feeling.

If not for the pain, Haku wouldn't have had the means to walk away, leaving the letter in the tree for Zenji to find if he went looking.

To My Dearest,

There's a poem I've been thinking about. A few lines specifically:

Trees outside the window and a big band sound that makes you feel like / everything's okay, / a feeling that lasts for one song maybe, / the parentheses all clicking shut behind you... I sleep. I dream. I make up things / that I would never say. I say them very quietly.

Sometimes it's easier to use a poet's words when I'm lost for ways to articulate just how I'm feeling. The full poem is more hopeful, but I keep coming back to these lines. It's like he knew, somehow. Precisely how to describe the way grief feels, where you stand in one place but time moves on anyway. Contentment is fleeting, the situation is final, and I betray my own healing by whispering all the words I wish I had said long ago and clinging to them like they might impossibly change the present.

I fear I have become the ghost in bringing you back. I'm stuck somewhere between that night and all the nights after where something got lost in translation.

You deserve this happy life. I'm writing this letter to say goodbye. I have always been a selfish, selfish man. I can't watch you love someone else anymore and live the life with her that I wanted with you.

I'm sorry, Taro. I'm so sorry I never did anything right by you.

Yours, still, Haku

[the upright card]

Haku went through the motions of the day in a kind of stupor. A few years ago, if you told him that he was going to get married one day, he'd laugh self-deprecatingly and ask if you were planning to propose to say such a thing. If you told him he was going to marry Zenji Kotodama—to him, Taro Kirisaki—he would blankly demand what gave you that ridiculous idea, arms crossed and unimpressed.

Currently, his arms are draped over Zenji's shoulders as they slow dance in an empty garden party. All the guests had left. Soon, Haku was going to clean up before he and Zenji collected their bags to board the late train. But right now, he's content just dancing to a song Zenji hummed sweetly in the quiet.

The moment feels so surreal. Zenji's buzzing solidness after years of growing stronger, the rise and fall of his chest so close to true breathing, the fact that they could still hold each other even while one remained a ghost. But the sound of his voice remains the same as always.

"You seem lost in thought, my dear." Zenji's ruby eyes glitter with gentle affection as he observes Haku. "Will you tell me about it?"

"It's nothing," Haku says, only for the rest of his excuses to melt away at a kiss to his forehead. It feels as real as anything.

"Tell me anyway," Zenji replies once he pulls away, smiling encouragingly.

Sighing, Haku glances off to the side at the curved tree. "It's... not something I can say aloud right now."

"But we are alone!" Zenji says, incredulous.

And Haku finds himself chuckling. "Yes. I know. But it's because it's for you that I'm struggling to say it." They stop dancing and, with a tremoring hand, Haku draws a folded piece of paper from a pocket in his coat. "Here. Read this, please. I should start cleaning, or we'll never make it to that train."

"But these are not your vows from earlier?"

"No," Haku says, wandering off to start collecting glasses to take inside. "Just read it and you'll see!" he calls back before leaving.

To My Dearest,

While I like poetry, I've never been all that good at it. I've written this letter probably a dozen times already, trying to quote every Romantic poet you could name. And many of them, I find, are so sad in their works. It just wouldn't do because I find myself so incredibly happy.

I'm writing this version the night before our wedding. You're asleep in the next room over (I know this because I can hear you snoring) and the moon is bright. I have the window open and the breeze is so nice, even if it's also messing with the paper right now.

You know by now that I'm stalling. You've always known me better than anyone else, particularly my own family. And while you've felt like family for a long time now, I can't believe I'm—and yet I look forward to—officially making you mine tomorrow.

You don't know it, but I've been writing letters to you for years. It started in our third year at Darkwick Academy, when I thought I had ruined our friendship for good. Ruined any kind of relationship we might have had. I wrote to you almost every day for a month, and then I continued to write after, but I never sent anything. You know me, after all. I couldn't be openly honest if my life depended on it.

Keats wrote once about the harmony in silence—or something close to that. After years of writing to you what I cannot say, I think I've finally reached that harmony. In my silent missives, I've found a new appreciation for your endless songs. I want you to sing until I go deaf. I want to love you until the end of my life, and then even after.

I used to scorn fairy tales. They weren't real. I had experienced the real world with all its unfit couples, doomed lovers, and sex addicts. I thought that was all there is. You may remember that there was a time I never thought I'd marry, simply because I didn't think a happy marriage was possible. But I want to make a promise to you, Taro. The vows I read out tomorrow are for everyone else. But this promise is for you only, in the beautiful simplicity of silence as you read.

While it is within my power, I am making this our happily ever after, my dearest. I owe it to the both of us to believe in fairy tales again. And I promise you that in this one, the moon and the fisherman can devote themselves to one another, the heir to the shrine can know of the ghost's love, and the beast can marry the princess.

We will have bad days. Someday I might find I grow tired of noise again. You might detest my criticisms. But I promise to never forget the love that's bound us through life and death. If you ever fear that I will, come to me with this letter and we will read it again together until we both remember our happily ever after.

I'm going to marry you tomorrow. You'll see.

With love, forever yours, Haku

[sideaccount2025]

Why does pre shimmer season 1 Jinx look like fcking AUPowder😭 (Im about to go on a rant)

I got rid of Jinx's eyebags as best as my inexperienced ass could and tweaked her expression a bit, bro in a different lightening that is literally Powder, makes me realize why Ekko couldn't tell them apart initially😭 When he left she still looked like that to his memory(With the eyebags tho) and then he comes back and she looks like a train wreck with chopped hair, a missing finger, eyebags twice as bad, pale as a corpse and PINK eyes, bro what i would give to see the 60 minute cut is almost listed as a warcrime

But aside from that, is interesting (to me) how Jinx has a face model for when she acts like Powder where her expression becomes more innocent/harmless/childish like, meanwhile Powder always looks like Jinx, she only has one face model, perhaps because she is not fragmented by 'two identities' , doesn't have the Powder childhood trauma that would make her age regress unconsciously to such an extent that it would be shown even in her facial expressions and facial proportions. She isn't haunted by a much younger version of herself she's trying to hide and protect, because she actually lived her childhood and grew out of it, Jinx is sort of partially stuck in limbo there imo.

Idk bro is just interesting, i might be stupid for pointing this out when they are the same person, just ignore me if u think so pls.

Anyways, also, season 2 post Ekko boysaving- Jinx meeting AU!Powder would be wholesome asf imo?

Rant incoming

Maybe not season 1!Jinx or even post blowing up the council!Jinx but Jinx after rekindling with her one and only best friend and building shit together and painting on each other when she physically recoiled at touch before, i feel like with no Silco around to enable her and manipulate her, what happened with Isha plus Ekko who was once her only savior and friend seeking her out again at the edge of the abyss made a very important difference in her behavior and sanity, she's not as well adjusted as Powder is but she certainly isn't gonna like try to commit terrorism if she sees her.

I just feel like nobody can understand Jinx's struggle and mind like HERSELF, Powder has had the hallucinations too, she might still have them actually, she experienced grief to a degree aswell and over the same person too, because Jinx thought Vi was dead didn't she?. Not only that but Jinx's confidence and 'ideas that change the world' would be good for Powder who is holding herself back and staying on the sidelines even though she's smarter than anyone.

As Amanda said 'there is some Jinx in Powder and some Powder in Jinx' and in my opinion they both struggle with accepting the Powder/Jinx within them. Anyways imma stfu now, if anybody read this far is a miracle Xd

[oqwomyo]

3rd Anniversary. Boschi's card translation.

Part 1.

The day after talking to the butlers of the 2nd floor. After sending carrier pigeons... We decided to rest in Tobilis for a while.

- Tobilis Square -

- One day -

Would you like to go for a walk with me? That's how Boschi invited me... Boschi and I walked along the streets of Tobilis together.

Boschi: If you look at it that way... The atmosphere of the city is very different from the one during the wine festival.

Boschi: There was a huge party going on in the city at that time... But in reality, it's quite a decent town.

You: That's calming.

Boschi: Yes. ...Hm?

You: What's wrong?

Boschi: Nothing... I didn't notice that we had come to a place of nostalgia.

Boschi: Look, here. This is the place where we danced last time we came to Tobilis.

You: Oh, right.

Boschi: ...At that time... Hanamaru was dancing with the children to the point that it was becoming troublesome for him.

Boschi: It was attracting unnecessary attention... I can't believe I was dragged into this too.

You: But it was fun.

Boschi: ...Yeah. That's for sure.

Boschi: Well, sometimes... These things aren't that bad.

At that time... Some familiar children ran up to us.

*Step step step*

Children: Boschi-san and master! Good afternoon!

You: Hello.

Children: Hey, hey, where's Hanamaru~? We want to play!

Boschi: Tch... We're getting dragged into something again.

Boschi: I told you the other day that Hanamaru wasn't coming.

Children: Eh~, are you sure he's not coming? How boring!

Children: Well then, Boschi-san, come play with us instead!

Boschi: ...Hah. I won't do that.

Boschi: As you can see, I'm on a date with the master right now.

You: A date...

Boschi: What is it, Master? Do you have something to say?

You: N-No, forget it...

Boschi: Heh, is that so? Then you don't mind that we're on a date.

Boschi: ...Hey, kids. If you get what I'm saying, then play by yourselves.

Boschi: Time with my master is my priority right now.

Children: Wha~, that's too bad! Well, we didn't expect Boschi-san to agree to play.

Boschi: Then you shouldn't have asked me.

Children: We were just checking! Next time you come, bring Hanamaru!

Boschi: Okay, okay.

Children: Okay, then... Today we're playing tag!

Children: Ahaha! Tag! You're it!

Children: Ah! That's not fair! Stop!

*Step step step*

Boschi: These guys are noisy...

You: They're great.

Boschi: This Hanamaru... He can go and play with the kids.

Boschi: I can't believe they're just running around making so much noise... No amount of physical strength would be enough.

You: Yeah, that looks tough.

Boschi: Well, even so... I don't mind kids having fun.

Boschi: Looking at these guys... It makes me remember when I was a kid.

You: Boschi's childhood?

Boschi: Even when I was a kid... I wasn't that loud, but...

Boschi: When I was a kid... I had fun thanks to my grandmother.

Boschi: Thinking back... I feel relieved somehow.

You: I see.

Boschi: Yeah, childhood memories... They mean a lot to me.

Boschi: Memories of joy and kindness... I'll never forget them.

Boschi: No matter how much time passes... They'll always be there.

You: ...But now you sent the kids away.

Boschi: Heh... Didn't I say that time with Master is my top priority?

Boschi: While I'm hanging out with Master... How can I babysit children?

You: Y-Yeah...

Boschi: Besides... I'm not the kind of adult who can leave them good memories.

Boschi: Let their families and the adults in the city they live in do that.

Boschi: And someday... They'll look back with a smile on the memories those adults left behind...

Boschi: And this city... It will become a home for them, a place they'd want to return to.

You: Their hometown, huh?

Boschi: Yes. The place where they spent their childhood...

Boschi: That's the only reason they're so attached to it.

Boschi: ...Actually, I too...

Boschi: The Western Land, where I spent my childhood... I'm thinking of going back there.

You: The Western Land...

Boschi: I told you the other day, right?

Boschi: A future where we don't have to fight angels...

Boschi: I'll go back to the Western Land and live in nature. I'll live for myself and for what's dear to me.

You: You said that.

Boschi: When I was a child in the Western Land... I was very happy.

Boschi: When I lived with my grandmother... It's not like we had the financial means...

Boschi: I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a struggle.

Boschi: But... Back then, I lived only for myself and my grandmother...

Boschi: It... It was nice.

You: I see...

Boschi: So that grandma could live comfortably... I made a lousy chair...

Boschi: We went to the forest together... She also told me about medicinal herbs and wild plants.

Boschi: ...It's been 300 years already... I still remember it clearly.

You: It's a wonderful memory.

Boschi: Yes... That's right. ...I'll never forget it.

When Boschi remembers his childhood... He smiles happily. When you look at Boschi's happy face... One may think he had a happy childhood. I felt happy too.

Part 2.

The children from Tobilis... They were gone before I realized it. There was no longer the cheerful laughter or running footsteps in the square.

Boschi: When I grew up... Grandma died...

Boschi: As a demon butler, fighting angels... I live by helping others, just like grandma taught me.

Boschi: But for me... Her teaching was the only thing I protected.

Boschi: Fighting angels... I helped those I don't even know.

Boschi: Even from now on... This life will continue for a while.

You: ...That's right.

Boschi: ....

Boschi: But... Once all the angels are defeated, this life will end.

Boschi: When that time comes... I will stop being a devil butler and return to a normal life.

Boschi: Without any connections to the aristocrats... I will live as a man.

Boschi: Just like I once lived with my grandmother...

Boschi: I with my significant other... I'll live... Only for my dear master.

You: Thank you, Boschi.

Boschi: "Thank you"... These are my words.

Boschi: Thank you for coming to this world, master.

Boschi: I never thought about what would happen after I defeated the angels...

Boschi: After meeting you... I began to imagine the future.

Boschi: Before I met master...

....... Of course, I didn't plan to die so easily...

Boschi: I thought that one day, an angel would kill me.

The angel will kill Boschi... I remembered the battle between Boschi and Throne. And... The emotions I felt back then... A chilling fear ran down my spine.

You: ...If Boschi is killed...

Bosch: ...Gosh. What kind of face is that, Master?

Boschi: That expression doesn't suit you. Smile as always.

Boschi: ...Didn't I tell you? I will live for myself and Master.

Boschi: Until that happens... I will not die.

You: ...Uh-huh.

When Boschi saw me nod... He laughed again. And... He gently stroked my head.

Boschi: Sorry for such dark stories.

Boschi: ...I will not leave you. So don't worry.

You: ...I believe you.

Boschi: Yeah... That's good.

Boschi: Someday, I will... When I return to the Western Lands, I will live with Master.

Boschi: Without disturbing anyone... We will live together as we wish.

Boschi: For this... I will do anything.

Boschi: Never again... I will not let go of what is important to me.

Boschi: Having spent my entire life... I will protect Master.

You: ...I will protect Boschi too.

Boschi: Heh... I see.

You: I will grant Boschi's wish.

Boschi: Thank you, Master.

Boschi: ..But......"My wish".

You: Is something wrong?

Boschi: When you say, "My wish"... I might think that I am the only one who wants this.

Boschi: Lately, I have always... I have been saying that I want to live with Master in the Western Lands...

Boschi: Never before have I heard Master say... "I want to go to the Western Lands with you".

You: This...

Boschi: Master. Is this really just my wish?

Boschi: If Master wants the same thing as me... I want to hear it.

Boschi, having said this... He stopped stroking my head and took off the glove from his left hand. And he gently extended his hand to me.

Boschi: Will you come with me? Master.

Boschi: You will not regret it if you choose to live with me.

Boschi: Until the last moment... I will make you happy.

Boschi: Therefore... Choose me.

And I... Without thinking, I took Boschi's hand.

You: I want to go with you.

When I take Boschi's hand... He laughs happily and squeezes it tightly.

Boschi: You are brave, as expected of my master.

Me too, not wanting to lose to Boschi... I squeezed his hand.

You: You will make me happy, won't you?

Boschi: Heh... Of course.

Boschi: Do you think I don't look like a man who can make the people he cares about happy?

You: I have to try, I don't know.

Boschi: Of course you don't.

Boschi: Then... Spend a lot of time with me and find out.

You: Uh-huh...

Boschi will make me happy. With confidence in that... I looked at him.

You: Let's live together, Boschi.

Boschi: Yes... I promise.

Boschi: For that... We need to defeat the angels quickly.

Boschi: One more thing… I suddenly look forward to the future..

Boschi: Living together with Master in the Western Land…

You: How is it to live in the West?

Boschi: That’s right…. Just like before when Master went…

Boschi: The Western Land is rich in nature… A quiet, peaceful place.

Boschi: That’s why… We will live modestly close to nature.

You: Is that so.

Boschi: Hmm… But…

Boschi: For Master… It may be different from the familiar Central Land, so there may be difficulties.

Boschi: In order for Master to feel at ease… I have to think of something.

When I heard Boschi's words… I felt the warmth of our intertwined hands. I felt a strange relief when Boschi was with me. With Boschi by my side… I’m sure I can live anywhere. I thought about it calmly.

You: …Please, always be by my side.

Boschi: Hm?

You: That’s enough for me.

Boschi: …Being close to me is enough, you say.

Boschi: I can’t believe you want something so obvious… Master is selfless.

You: Eh?

Boschi: I… Just being close to you isn’t enough for me.

Boschi: That’s why… I want to always touch Master.

Boschi: Without Master’s warmth, I would feel uneasy… Together forever.

You: ………

Boschi: What is it? Master.

You: Of course, that’s fine with me too.

Boschi: Heh, is that so.

I didn’t want to break our intertwined hands. I wanted to always feel the warmth of Boschi's body. Before I realized it, my head was filled with such thoughts.

Boschi: …It’s not bad to be with a selfless Master who says that being close to me is enough for them, but…

Boschi: A Master who is greedy for me… That’s not bad either.

We held each other’s hands. A future where there are no angels... We will live happily together. While I was thinking about this... I mentally went to the Western Lands.

[ghostdaughterr]

porch swings and diet cokes lyric breakdown 🌿🥀🖤

“porch swings and diet cokes, i think there’s something in the water”

- my pawpaw used to go through a case or two of diet coke a week and when i stayed with him and my gram in Livingston Parish, Louisiana, he’d take me fishing. he passed when i was 12 and i haven’t gone fishing since

“saw it on my small device, i’ll never be my father’s daughter”

- blah blah crying about not being accepted by family for being trans blah blah

“i run from everything, though i was taught to hit back harder / i miss being 17, at 23 you’re so much smarter”

- reflections on childhood, innocence. all the ways i was taught to be vs the ways i turned out. the way that aging replaces blind faith with experience and makes it harder to be hopeful for the future.

“now i wanna be your dumb blonde forever

couldn’t we stay in bed tangled together?

saying ‘aren’t i the luckiest girl in the world?

my baby’s sweet like cherry pie, won’t find another one like her’”

- wishing to return to that innocence, that naïveté. even wishing for a kind of naivety i never got to have. ignorance can truly be bliss.

“cheap beer and neon signs, you told me nothing lasts forever”

- the kind of ignorance i got in reality. it’s true that all things will pass, but the passing last forever. eventually all that’s left is the leaving.

“thought i’d see my name in lights but all we got was nicer weather”

- leaving home, moving to big cities to chase dreams and getting hit with reality.

“i ran away again, i’ll tell myself it’s for the better

but every night i lay in bed, drink diet coke, reread your letter”

- in LA. there was a person, a small soft interior place, who glowed and felt like home. time passed, things changed, things hurt, i left. i had to. there’s not much else to say about this.

“but could i still be your dumb blonde forever?

couldn’t we stay in bed tangled together?

saying ‘aren’t i the luckiest girl in the world?’

my baby’s sweet like cherry pie and i hope we never learn”

- i hope somewhere in us remains the innocence of our youth. i hope that some place behind our ribs it is still soft and full of light. i hope we can be naive and fragile and lovely forever, somehow.

[kazxraval]

"That little sod's getting to you." An hour ago, Emre slashed and stabbed his way through an entire crew. Yet doted on this kid. Maybe thinking about his own childhood in comparison to what hand Ali was dealt. Ali, thrust out of the safety of what the world was and thrown into combat on the streets of a dystopian version of Seattle. Dog eat dog, watch your back because someone like Georgie's people might be watching it out too. Maybe Ali's dad liked poetry too. Maybe his mother didn't carry him but it was the only mother he ever knew.

Kaz paused to watch fingers trace up his arm. They left a pleasant sensation behind, Emre's fingertips leaving invisible ink behind .Kaz's voice sank lower while he hung on Emre and consulted the map. "No one ever talks about this. What happened out here, do they? 'Cause we can come and go as we please, hm? Still picking at the carcass." Nothing imbued in the words, merely a fact. "Haven't actually thought about how I'd still be here, you know. If I hadn't ended up on the island."

"Ever know anyone named Marlboro?" He smiled as his hand reached for the prodding elbow. Pain settled over him like a blanket. Once they returned, it'd be more like a blanket heavy with water, weighing him down. For now, Kaz moved for his sake, for Emre's too. "Think one of these pricks has a five year old stale pack of cigs around here?"

The numbers in a long table didn't take much to decipher. Unmade bed, undisciplined. An observation to play again and again in his head. "Untidy bed, untidy mind, huh?" He hummed. "My priya." He brushed Emre's cheek and pinched it in the end. "My pasandeeda." His gaze wrapped all around Emre, affectionately. "I leave my bed unmade after you've been in it. As a reminder."He squinted as if seriously contemplating. "Maybe captain got laid?"

A velvet hammer kept chipping at the whole Georgie thing. Once upon a time, Kaz had the brain to collect information, construct and parse it into something digestible and understandable. Always about others, not so much about himself. His laugh came from the deep end of his throat, as a hand combed dark wavy strands of hair back (dried sea water, dried blood).

His tongue made a soft click as his lips parted. "Emre, I felt things about her I'd never felt about anyone else." Kaz wouldn't say the word out loud, it hadn't been meant for Georgina in years. "When it ended, it really hurt. And I didn't want to feel it anymore." A tenderness, a vulnerability used up, and used against him.

Seconds suspended to examine Emre's expression. "But, can't hang on to that shit." A soft laugh. "It's okay to move on. She's just someone I used to know." Yes, he recalled the recent conversation about people changing. "Haven't you ever felt something that you just, like. You want to forget about? Let go?"

"I'd rather look back on you singing that song into the rock." A more relaxed sound, like a sigh. "At the waterfalls. I look back. I look back all the time." Not indignant and not pissed off, the emotion was one for Emre to excavate.

Now, Georgie. He'd like to bury up to her neck in the cold Pacific sand.

Feroze, Edward, Reyansh. Georgie spat-sprayed a bloody cackle. 'Oh, I'm supposed to give a run down on every person in Seattle?' Georgie squirmed in her seat and then cleared her throat. 'Edward went to prison in California. Reyansh followed to be close to his daddy. Surely Kaz told you his brother was a real kiss ass.'

A more introspective quiet followed by a frozen whisper. 'Feroze's brother.' Her jaw set firm and light eyes burned as they turned on Emre. 'He's little. A boy. But he can do a lot of damage. Especially when he finds out you killed Feroze.'

The name Edward absorbed all the light in the room for Kaz. Actual questions he'd waited ages to find the answer to, about Edward, might be sitting with their back to him (Georgie). "Do you know if he got out of prison?" Probably, with the charges brought against Edward, Kaz doubted his father would've still been in jail, in 2020.

Georgie turned her head towards her shoulder. It wasn't enough to see Kaz. For that, she'd have to completely twist around in her seat. The gesture enough, her tone meditative, careful. 'I wish I could tell you. Priti divorced him, so. I don't think she kept up with Edward after.' She waited, and then asked, 'You still haven't said where you've been. If not in Seattle, where?' Kaz didn't waste a minute. "On the beach. Lazing around, floating in the water."

Emre turned those spotlight eyes on him. Georgie aggressively snapped the map away from Emre. She sighed with a dramatic eye roll, and a snide mutter: 'Places to be, hmph. You're embarrasing.'

The map was given the briefest once over before a sharp nail tapped the paper. 'Here. Fermé has been abandoned for a while. No one guards it. But enough ships pass by too, they can pick up me and Ali.' Kaz immediately approached to rip the map away from Georgina. He slipped into a seat at the helm and proceeded to figure out how the hell to steer towards this word he'd never heard before.

Ali's high-pitched wolf barks someone filtered up to them. Georgie dropped her head back against the chair she was in, a demonstration of exhaustion. Kaz stalled the boat for a moment, then motioned for Emre to follow him just outside the bridge, to speak away from Georgina.

"Don't know if I trust her, but reckon we have no choice. Ali, though..." The sentence trailed, the thought of Urmilla's hand turned to sand in Emre's that time, when Emre refused to let his mother go.

A hand pointed out the dark coastline. No lights, no evidence of life. "The place she mentioned, Fermé? It's somewhere over there. Not too far away. But. You okay with leaving the kid there with her? Because I don't know what else we can do for him. Unless." A dumb thought. "Wonder if two people have ever tried to bring someone back from the outside." Or would the kid end up as molecular spaghetti stretched across time?

As if on cue, Ali's fists pounded his agitation out on metal below in a staccato rhythm. The shout wasn't muffled so much that they couldn't understand. 'I can hear you stupid motherfuckers! You ain't leaving me anywhere! Now, let me OUT!'

Kaz stomped a foot twice and shouted at the deck. "Holy shit, hold your fucking horses you little twat? We're trying to get us all the hell out of here!"

"Can you blame him, though? What sort of life has he had, man." Emre murmured, staring down at Ali. Listening to Kaz's brittle-edged tone of...what? Frustration? Annoyance? Confusion? "Little sod like that shouldn't face daily struggle, he should be kicking a ball about innit."

But of course, Kaz had nothing to yearn for. Emre looked at Ali and remembered his own gloried, nostalgic, safe childhood, something to be cherished and preserved. What did Kaz have, from that age?

Kid's lucky he didn't end up like his brother.

A soft snort of agreement as Emre touched Kaz, fingers sliding along the inside of Kaz's long, heavy arm. Reminding Kaz of humanity, if nothing else. Kaz just killed two men; it was hard to come down from a brutal, bloody high like that. Emre was trained to switch gears, when he had his own baby to mind, back in his London days.

The hatch closed for later (Ali would be fine) and they turned to the maps. Kaz thankfully maintained that contact, arm around Emre like he didn't want them to split again. Emre nestled in easily enough, watching as Kaz translated the maps with his keen discernment, noting patterns and codes in the writing that Emre never could.

"Riddles, that," Emre decided, as Kaz pointed out the words. "Last names, maybe? Could bloody do with a ciggie right about now, if I'm honest." A grin, a gentle elbow against Kaz's side (his bruised ribs, were some cracked? Kaz was surfing on adrenalin but not for long. Emre had to get him home, somehow. Fucking teleports!) Kaz smelled of fresh sweat and salt, making Emre's mouth water. Thirsty, hungry for Kaz even now. "Map was in a binder, all numbers in a long table. This seemed the most useful; we've got to dock somewhere on this map, don't we." A cluck of his tongue, about the Captain's cabin. "Unmade bed; undisciplined, that."

The Georgina question was bound to get Kaz discomfited. But he gave Emre the story willingly, and more of the picture formed. "It's always complicated. I know you don't feel bollocks for her now, but. She still affects you, yeah. She's from your past, of course she does..." Emre tilted his head up, allowing Kaz more scratching space under his chin.

"Bloody hell, you never look back, do you darling." It was the same with Ani, that poor little ghost-creature trailing after Kaz, who Kaz would barely even acknowledge...and then she was gone again. "You've got to, luv; she's here."

And Emre wanted answers. And maybe his reasoning was a little selfish; he was hungry for Kaz, even from Georgina's memories. Georgie was happy to provide tantalizing stories of this man, his man. About poor Ani's memorial, and Kaz in grief.

Emre's feelings split in two. Supremely irrational jealousy of Georgina, for having been in Kaz's life back then, known him back then. Been there with Kaz, when Emre obviously wasn't. (Kaz at seventeen...Emre would've been in Afghanistan.) Emre wanted to know everything; and had to hear it second-hand, in torturous ways for Kaz.

And Emre had the graces to feel bad, seeing how much Kaz hated it, but. Hated what, exactly? The old feelings that Georgie forcibly exposed, or some embarrassment he felt now? Or something else entirely, maybe. Kaz tried to give Emre his past, which Emre was grateful for but...bloody hell, he'd never get this chance again, would he? Actual people, from Kaz's past. If Emre could strangle and wring out every tidbit about Kaz from Georgina's long throat, he would.

Georgie's description of Priti felt so different from the woman that Kaz had described from his childhood. A useless ghost of a woman, who couldn't even pull herself out of her own self-pity, to love her children. Never mind protect. And now, Georgina called her a caretaker, for kids.

"What do you know about Feroze's brother?" Emre squinted at Georgina. "Priti would give the little blighter away for organ shifting, that's how she 'takes care' of bloody kids, then?" He kissed his teeth, dropped his hands from Georgina and took a step back in deliberately showy disgust. "You're both twisted sisters, innit. Cut from the same cloth. And what about Edward? Reyansh? They still about?"

Kaz, slightly bowed, on the borderline of begging for some sense out of this. Something that didn't have Georgina rake him across the coals; and Emre knew he had to tread lightly here.

"We're all fucking tired, sweetheart. Grow up, it's embarrassing you acting like this." Emre smoothed out the map in front of Georgina. "Find us some place to land. We're not here to fucking destroy your trade, don't you worry. We don't - we can't fucking care, yeah? We've got places to be, don't involve your blood profit. We just want off the boat..."

A long look at Kaz over Georgina's head, a meaningful, heavy gaze. Georgina was beyond redemption, this much was clear. And what Emre assured her of her safety once they landed could easily be a lie, if Kaz chose.

If Kaz chose to kill Georgina too.

A banging noise from below deck. And then a small, hoarse (and pissed off) little voice, howling: "Hey!! Hey get me out of here! Help, hello! HEYYYYY!" It was Ali, awake.

[irritablepoe]

funniest thing about having an absent father bc of work is that i'm supposed to be thankful for it bc he brought in the money.

[hinamie]

to moving forward

[gunkbaby]

ik most of u dont agree with my ed tokyo ghoul takes and that’s fine. but there is something so validating about an almost entire cast of characters for whom eating is a task that inherently involves a lot of guilt and shame.