#so people think she's the Normal One. the Well-Adjusted One. but trust me she is very much not
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38 from the character development questions, dealer's choice of who :)
38. Is there anything they wish they could change about their worldview or thought processes? What, and why?
ooh this is a very good one for Irenni (my other KC that I haven't developed as much despite loving her almost as intensely) because the thing about Irenni is... she's unequivocally, objectively Good—at least as per the rules of a world where Good is something you can be and not just something you do—but she is also torn between many different sides of herself & their accompanying mindsets
Irenni is Neutral Good and in the Angel path and her first and foremost priority is always, always to help people and make the world a kinder place and become the better version of herself she can be—but there's so many versions of Irenni. it's a kaleidoscope. she's an Angel of Compassion but as the game progresses she becomes absolutely obsessed with the concept of attaining divinity to the point where it clouds her judgment and she makes some... questionable decisions for the sake of love; she is a Rakshasa-blooded tiefling with fey ancestry (or at least she assumes so, considering her abilities as a Sylvan Sorcerer) and sees that as a burden on her, which is why she actively, openly rejects Chaos and Evil as fundamental forces of the universe, because she has to prove she's More Than, perhaps over an innate desire to just do Good. and there is little place left amidst all that for Irenni Korez, for whoever she is without the Mythic powers and the tiefling blood and the fey ancestry.
so with this ABSOLUTE BEHEMOTH of an introduction out of the way, and please do forgive the behemoth I just get carried away sometimes & moreover it is relevant to the answer, I swear: she is, overall, satisfied with her worldview, with her moral compass, even if it's less than perfect and all too often hinges on sentiment. however, her thought process is... another matter entirely. every single time she has a less than charitable thought, something rude or mean or chaotic, the temptation of an easy way out, she wonders if it's Irenni -the-person thinking that or Irenni-the-tiefling, or Irenni-the-fae-blooded, or a mixture of that. as of late, all her good thoughts are met with the same amount of existential suspicion: is it her, or the Light of Heaven? (and... the less I say about the state of her thought process post-Areelu's reveal, the better.) and she wishes, oh-so-dearly, that she could stop nitpicking and overanalysing every thought that crosses her mind because ultimately it matters little, her actions are what's important, what define Irenni-the-person in opposition to Irenni-and-her-trillion-influences. but it's difficult, and she can't take one single step without asking herself where the urge to take said step came from, and is it benefitting anyone, and is it hurting anyone, and there a better way, and and and and—
she thinks circles around herself and, despite knowing it's hardly ever of use, she can't stop it because she's terrified of what might happen to her identity if she does. but she wishes she could. she wishes she could allow herself to just... be.
#Maia speaks#thank youuuuu!!!! & sorry I took so long to answer ough I reblogged that and went to sleep almost immediately afterwards#OC: Irenni#the thing about Irenni is that she's soooo fucked up but she's fucked up in a way that is much quieter than the rest of her companions#so people think she's the Normal One. the Well-Adjusted One. but trust me she is very much not#... also I may or may not be projecting a little bit of my OCD thinking onto Irenni but listen. what are OCs for if not projecting#if I have to deal with OCD bullshit on my day-to-day I might as well get something good out of it#also MAN I miss the server I need to be more active there. I've just been having. A Time.#watching my country catch fire while I undergo one of the worst mental health crises of the past 3 years... 0/10 would not recommend.
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our secret moments - lhs (m)
"our secret moments in a crowded room / they got no idea about me and you // all of this silence and patience / pining and anticipation / my hands are shaking from holding back from you" - dress by taylor swift
series masterlist - part one - part two - part three
100 kisses masterlist - prompts 4 (breaking the kiss, your lover instantly pressing their lips back to yours), 26 (“i was supposed to take a shower, alone, but go ahead jump right in”) & 19 (“if we’re caught kissing we’re most likely dead but let’s risk it”)
pairing. best friend’s brother!heeseung x fem!reader
synopsis. After avoiding Heeseung for a week, Chaeyeong makes you talk things out with him. In the weeks that follow, the two of you sneak around at night, sharing secret kisses in the backseat of his car and getting to know each other on a deeper level. If you make sure to be careful, there's no reason it should go wrong, right?
genre. secret relationship au, fluff, smut (mdni!!), hint of angst at the end
word count. 24.2k 😂
a/n. after a thousand years she's finally out!! i'm really sorry for making you guys wait but i was struggling with writing motivation and as you can see she's a bajillion words long so it took me forever to finish it. at least my amazing beta reader bestie in charge @zreamy edited it in like twelve seconds which was super awesome of her oh also shout out to the anon who recommended dress by tswift for this part ur very smart!! ok will stop talking now hope u guys like it and as always pls lmk what u think!!
Heeseung is confused.
He’s always proudly considered himself someone who easily understands other people, who isn’t rattled by sudden shifts in moods and who can adjust to different situations and attitudes. He’s observant and likes trying to figure out what the people around him are thinking or feeling, going over all the possibilities and finding the right way to fix a situation. In that aspect, he’scompletely unlike his sister Seeun, who, always straightforward, prefers asking directly.
But Heeseung doesn’t see the fun in that.
His ability to understand others so well also allows the people around him to rely on him whenever they have concerns or troubles - they trust him to listen intently and provide solutions as best as he can. Even though he has few friends, he knows them inside out, and he’ll always choose that over having tons of friends he doesn’t really know.
This is where the confusing part starts for him. He likes to think of you as a friend - not a close friend like Sunghoon or Jay, but still a friend. You greet each other and even sometimes talk when you run into each other at school or at his place; you take the bus home together every once in a while; you remember each other’s birthdays; you even spent a few hours making a puzzle together once. Surely, that’s what friends do, Heeseung thinks. But to his great despair, understanding other people means he also understands himself well, and he can’t fool himself for that long.
He knows a friend wouldn’t make him feel the way you do. He can’t even blame it on your being a girl, because Chaeyoung, whom he basically sees just as often as you, or any of the girls in his classes that he sees on a daily basis, don’t make his palms sweat and his heart race like you do.
Admittedly, the truth would be closer to ‘my little sister’s best friend who I get even more nervous and awkward than usual around and gives me butterflies every time she so much as looks at me and is awfully pretty and smart and funny, which doesn’t help any of this.’
But ‘friend’ is easier.
So he sticks to it and forces himself to look you in the eye when you talk and to start conversations with you, like he does with all his other friends, hoping that someday, he will finally feel normal around you.
Sadly, that day doesn’t seem to come, and before he knows it, fall arrives and he’s whisked away to college. That’s where he meets Jake.
Jake was Heeseung’s roommate whom he had been terrified of as soon as he laid eyes on him, for Jake seemed to be the complete opposite of Heeseung and the exact type of guy he had hated in high school. The loud type, who sat at the back of the room and paid no attention to the teacher because he was too busy annoying girls or making fart noises with his armpit. The type who made fun of Heeseung’s glasses.
Heeseung was terrified of Jake for about five minutes (and with reason - the first thing Jake had said to him was “Cool glasses, bro”) until they started talking and he realized that he was doing the same major as him, shared a lot of his interests both academic and hobby-wise, and was basically just as much of a nerd as him; he simply hid it much better. Not that Heeseung wanted to hide it or even understood why he should.
One of Jake’s freshman-year goals was to get into a fraternity. But not just any - he had his eyes set on Sigma Sigma Pi because his brother was an alumnus and he had told Jake - in those exact words - that college life wasn’t worth living if you weren’t part of a fraternity. This meant that presence at the first party of the semester was mandatory. Heeseung had shivered at the word ‘party’, but Jake was so resolute that he decided to support his friend and come along, letting himself be convinced that even he might find some fun in it.
Three pints of cheap beer and five shots of tequila later, he concluded that maybe frat parties weren’t so bad after all. As soon as they’d seen him, a group of upperclassmen had taken his crooked glasses and lanky limbs as signs of social awkwardness and decided to help him loosen up by bringing him directly to the kitchen where all the good stuff was. Jake hadn’t expected that Heeseung would be the one to catch their eye, but he wasn’t going to complain about getting to party with the frat bros on his first night of college.
Heeseung, whose lips had never touched so much as a drop of alcohol, was wasted barely two hours into the party. Jake fared slightly better, but only because he knew better than to accept every drink that came his way. To this day, Heeseung finds himself unable to remember anything that happened after eleven p.m. that night, so imagine his surprise the next morning when he woke up half-naked in a stranger’s bed.
Heeseung, who had practically never had a female friend, let alone a girlfriend. Heeseung, who had never even been close to getting his first kiss, and whose dick only knew his right hand. Heeseung, who had had a singular crush his whole life, and had never been able to do anything about it. So imagine his surprise when said stranger turned out to be a girl - and a pretty one, at that - who was smiling down at him as he blinked his eyes open and asking him if he slept well.
She was sitting on the edge of her bed, close to Heeseung’s chest, which he rapidly covered with a blanket as soon as he realized it was bare. He was sleepy and confused, but more than that, he was hungover - his head was throbbing, his mouth was dry, and he felt like he might be sick any second. Obviously, Heeseung had never had a hangover before, nor had he ever woken up in a girl’s bed with no idea of how he got there, and the two new unexpected experiences made him unable to think or speak. He was just really confused. And really sleepy.
The girl slightly furrowed her eyebrows but laughed, seemingly amused by Heeseung’s behavior. “Are you okay?”
“I- um, yeah, I’m fine, but I, um…”
Heeseung winced at his own awkwardness, but he had no idea how to behave in such a situation. He also wasn’t sure how to tell this girl that he had no idea who she was or what he was doing with her.
She gave him a weird look but continued laughing. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting weird.”
This only confused Heeseung further, because he always acted like this. He looked away from her questioning eyes and found an interesting spot on the blanket for his eyes to focus on. “What, um, what happened last night? I think I had too much to drink…” he said, voice getting quieter the more he spoke.
This girl was apparently having a lot of fun, because his words only made her laugh more. “You can say that again. You were out.” Heeseung’s head whipped at that and his expression was so alarmed that she instantly tried to reassure him. “Don’t worry, you didn’t do anything too embarrassing.”
He still didn’t say anything and looked terrified out of his mind. “Do you not remember?” she asked, and he shook his head. “Anything?” He shook his head again.
She sighed. “Do you know my name?”
Heeseung looked down again, and she could feel his guilt in the third head-shake.
“Guess you really did drink a lot. I’m Yunjin,” she said, extending a hand out for him to shake.
He cleared his throat and took the girl’s hand. “H-Heeseung.”
Yunjin tilted her head at Heeseung as if trying to figure him out. “You know, you were really different last night. A completely different person.”
No matter how mortifying the thought of behaving inappropriately was to Heeseung, he preferred knowing what he did to staying in the dark. “What was I like?” he asked, sounding almost scared.
Yunjin took a second to think. “You were just really… confident,” she said, and Heeseung looked at her in total disbelief. “You talked to everyone, danced like crazy, flirted with me…” She paused for a second, then looked at Heeseung with a teasing smile. “You’re a really good kisser, you know.”
Heeseung’s eyes widened so much they could’ve popped out of their sockets. “Me?!” he exclaimed as if he’d just heard the most ridiculous thing ever. Yunjin just laughed and nodded.
“But right now, you’re like a beaten puppy or something. You act like I’m gonna punch you any second,” she joked, finally getting a chuckle out of Heeseung.
They talked for some more, and he relaxed enough to ask more questions. But maybe he shouldn’t have had, because his embarrassment reached its peak when Yunjin told him that she had taken him upstairs the previous night, not realizing how drunk he was because of how drunk she was, but that they hadn’t done anything more than kissing. He asked whether he’d fallen asleep as soon as his body hit the bed, so Yunjin, reluctantly, had to inform him that he “couldn’t get it up” - her words. That was why he’d woken up in just his underwear.
Luckily for him, their conversation was cut short when the rightful owner of the room kicked them out. He scrambled to put his clothes back on, and he and Yunjin ran into Jake in the hallway just as they exited the room.
“Heeseung! My man!” Jake exclaimed, circling his friend’s shoulders with his arm and ruffling his hair. The three of them decided to go get breakfast together in an attempt to fight off their hangovers, and a beautiful friendship ensued. Jake and Yunjin quickly figured out how fun it is to tease Heeseung for his awkwardness and nerd tendencies, but they were also really good friends.
It didn’t take long for them to find out about his long-standing crush on his sister’s best friend, and they immediately made it their mission to help Heeseung channel his alter ego so that he could finally make his move on you. He was reluctant at first, but after some time, he found that it was fun to party on the weekends, flirt shamelessly with strangers (and yes, sometimes make out with them) and hit the gym with Jake rather than stay holed up in his room and just study or game. They convinced him to get a haircut and some nicer clothes, and they even went to get their ears pierced together on a night when the alcohol made them feel like it was the greatest idea ever.
Of course, Jake and Heeseung were accepted in Sigma Sigma Pi, and Yunjin in the twin sorority. Heeseung developed this sort of odd reputation of being a player and a huge flirt but never actually taking a girl back to his room. Not to say no one tried - many girls heard about him and thought they would be the one to bag this boy that only seemed to get more handsome at every party, but no matter what they did or said, they were no match for you.
Even though he hadn’t seen you in months, you were still on his mind all the time. To say he missed you would be an understatement, and it was a weird feeling, considering you were barely friends. But he missed taking the bus with you and hearing you laugh, even if it was at him, even when you were teasing him. He missed getting a glimpse of you in the hallways or seeing your shoes at the entrance of his house when he came home from school. He daydreamed about those hours you had spent together working on a puzzle together more often than he’d like to admit.
He didn’t like the idea that some girls might think he was leading them on, but once he knew his flirting actually worked on people, he couldn’t wait to see you again and try his new tricks on you. He tried not to self-doubt too much, but he was scared that you wouldn’t like it - he wanted to get a positive reaction out of you, not make you want to run the other way.
So when he finally came home for the summer and started working his charm on you, he was immensely relieved to see you get shy and flustered around him. He finally understood why you’d always teased him - there was nothing like knowing your heart had skipped a beat because of him, much like his had because of you thousands of times before.
It’s hard to always keep his cool around you, however, and he also finds himself getting nervous once in a while. But the hope that you might like him back keeps him going, so he takes every opportunity he can to talk to you and, while he’s at it, call you pretty or smile at you (a smile he’s practiced many times in the mirror for maximum effectiveness). To his immense joy, it works every time - so when the party rolls around, he knows he has to make an actual move. It also helps that he’s invited his number one wingman to stay with him for a couple weeks, so that his confidence never wavers.
He thinks he’s hit the jackpot when the bottle lands on you and on him right afterwards. He thinks he’s reached heaven when he finally feels your lips on his, when he finally gets to have you close and touch your hair and hold your waist and have your hands on him. The seven minutes pass by in a flash, and heaven is ripped away from him by his own best friend when the closet doors open - but the worst part happens during the days that follow. Those are hell.
You do the one thing that he had hoped you wouldn’t - you run away from him. In one week, you don’t even say ten words to him, just greet him quickly and proceed to escape as far as you can. He notices the change in your behavior right away - how could he not? And so a thousand possibilities run through his mind, ranging from “the kiss was awful, and she hates my guts, and she never wants to see my face ever again” to “she’s just scared about the repercussions this could have if Seeun finds out.” None of his friends can calm him down or get him to think straight.
This whole ordeal makes him panic so much that he has fully gone off flirty mode - how could he flirt with you if he couldn’t even get you to talk to him? He had been sure he’d read into your reactions right, that you had feelings for him, and that he was right to make a move, but not anymore. Now, he was just confused.
--
Since that fateful party, you’ve unconsciously started seeing your life as pre-Heeseung incident and post-Heeseung incident.
Pre-Heeseung incident: it’s painful having such an intense one-sided crush, but at least you can keep it to yourself and not have to worry about Seeun’s reaction to you being in love with her brother. Sure, said brother’s constant flirting and general existence don’t make things easy for you, but it’s better to keep it a secret than to act on it.
Post-Heeseung incident: you have no idea what to do with yourself now that you know what it actually feels like to kiss and touch Heeseung, so you’ve resorted to avoiding him like the plague and pretending nothing has ever happened. It’s not fun either, and having to keep your inner turmoil to yourself is even harder than before, but you don’t want to risk your friendship with Heeseung over one kiss.
On the afternoon of day five, you’re going crazy reiterating the events of the party, so you decide to text the girls and ask them to come over. They both answer that they’ll be there in fifteen, but not even three minutes after you’ve sent the text, Chaeyeong appears at your bedroom door, face red and sweaty like she’s just run a marathon.
Since it’s Chaeyeong, you’re only mildly surprised to see her there, but you’re curious about her quick arrival nonetheless. “You’re already here?”
“Y/N, we need to talk,” she says with all the seriousness in the world. You’d be scared shitless if these words had come out of anyone else’s mouth, but knowing your best friend, she’s just exaggerating the gravity of whatever this is about.
Even though you try to match her earnestness, you can’t keep the amusement out of your voice when you answer, “Sure, go ahead.”
She catches onto your lack of seriousness right away. “You think this is funny?” she says in an almost threatening way. “I came early so we could talk about your little Heeseung problem without Seeun.”
That’s enough to shut you up for a few seconds as you look at her mouth agape, heat rising to your face. She takes your silence as a victory and crosses her arms over her chest, waiting for you to say something. “My little Heeseung problem?” you echo stupidly, and she nods. “I don’t have a little Heeseung problem.” You know that nothing about your tone or expression is convincing, but you still hope - in vain - that she’ll let you off the hook.
“No, you’re right, you have a big Heeseung problem. And it must be discussed.”
You roll your eyes as she takes a seat next to you on your bed. “You’re taking this way too seriously, you know.”
One thing about Chaeyeong is she’s never at a loss for words. It makes arguing with her exhausting because she’s always got something to bite back at you, no matter how much of a reach it is. So before the conversation even starts, you know she’s going to win it. You’re afraid of the truth she might shove into your face, but you figure it needs to be done at some point, so you let her.
“What’s serious is this crush you’ve been harboring on him all these years, and that now that something has finally happened and you might be going somewhere with him, you’re running the other way.”
You only hear the beginning of her sentence, too focused on the bomb she’s just dropped on you. “You-you knew?”
It’s her turn to eye-roll. “Only an idiot wouldn’t notice how much you like that boy, Y/N. Which means that Seeun is an idiot, by the way.”
The mention of your other best friend makes you wince slightly. It feels wrong to be going behind her back to talk about your crush on her big brother like this. “Yeah, I know,” Chaeyeong says as if reading your mind. “I’ve thought about it, and I honestly have no idea how she’ll react.”
You both look at your feet for a while, mulling over the different ways this could go down with Seeun. “It definitely doesn’t look good,” you say defeatedly. “I mean, if her reaction at the party is anything to go by. When we were playing the game, you know. When the bottle landed on me and Heeseung, she looked completely disgusted, but when we came out she didn’t even question whether something might have happened, as if that was just impossible for her.”
Chaeyeong sighs. “Well, if you tell her, she’ll definitely be surprised. But I’m sure she’d be fine with it… right?”
Your friend’s doubt only makes you feel even worse, and you drop your head into your palms with a groan. “I hate everything about this.”
Chaeyeong nudges your shoulder with her own, making you turn your head to look at her. “I’m sure you didn’t hate that whole part when you were in the closet with-”
“Chaeyeong!” you scream before she can finish her godforsaken sentence, but it only makes her break into a fit of giggles. You try to pretend to be mad at her but a smile breaks through your pout at the sound of her laughter.
“Well? You can’t deny it, can you?”
It takes another nudge of her shoulder with yours to make you reply. “Of course not, but-”
“So that’s it then! Let’s not think about any of the possible bad outcomes for now, and just focus on getting you and him together.” She doesn’t even give you time to answer - your wide eyes and panicked expression are enough for her to know what you would say. “Listen, I’ve had to sit here and watch you and Heeseung make heart eyes at each other without the other knowing, and that was already excruciating enough - I can’t stand to watch you make heart eyes at each other now that you know what the other feels.”
It takes you a second to process all of her words. “Y-you think Heeseung makes heart eyes at me?” you ask weakly. It’s like you have selective hearing today.
“Girl! He somehow manages to make it even more obvious than you. Also, Jake told me that Heeseung told him that he likes you. Can’t get much more reassurance than that.” Your dumbstruck expression makes her look at you in disbelief. “You seriously don’t see it?” she says in a fascinated voice, as if in wonder at your stupidity. You can only slightly shake your head no.
“I can’t believe this is what I have to deal with…” She sounds like an overworked office worker and mother of four rather than a high school senior on her summer break, and her attitude would make you laugh if you weren’t so rattled by the thought that Heeseung might have actually liked you all these years, you were just too caught up in your own feelings for him to notice it.
She takes your hand in hers and sighs. “I can promise you I wouldn’t be saying all this if I didn’t really believe it,” she starts, voice much softer than before. “I remember the way he would get all shy and blushy whenever you were around, and that boy was already one hell of a nervous wreck on his own. And the blatant flirting since he’s come back makes me want to applaud him and vomit everywhere at the same time,” she says with a chuckle.
“Really?” you ask, a small smile appearing on your lips as you let yourself be convinced by your friend’s words.
“Really. And you, I’ve noticed how you pay more attention when his name is mentioned. And you were always a bit cheerier on the days you came back from school after riding the bus with him. Don’t even get me started on the way you’ve been this summer. You couldn’t get more obvious. It screams ‘I can’t handle being around this man for more than a minute so I’ll just run away,’ and I mean that in a good way.”
You look at Chaeyeong with a pout, and her smile grows bigger. You squint your eyes as you look away, trying to keep your grin down. “Guess I wasn’t as discrete as I thought I was.”
“You really weren’t,” she laughs. “Probably thought it was your own little secret, right?”
You’re slightly embarrassed that you’d been uncovered such a long time ago, but it’s also a relief, being able to share this with someone.
“I did…” you admit, and it makes you both break into laughter. After you’ve calmed down, you ask Chaeyeong why she’d never said anything about it before. She thinks about it for a bit before answering.
“I’m not completely sure. Maybe because you and Heeseung were both such losers, I thought that even if I told you I knew, nothing would happen.” You scoff, slightly offended, but more because you know she’s right than anything. “And I don’t know, you two were just so cute with your crush on each other. I wanted to let you figure it out on your own, but now it’s taken so long and it’s right in your face but you’re still doing nothing about it, so I got fed up.”
You nod at her words, taking it all in. Was it really time to let Heeseung know about your feelings?
“I also feel bad for Heeseung, you know.” You look at her, waiting for her to continue. “Poor guy has been in agony these days. You need to stop ignoring him. I know it’s because you feel weird about him being Seeun’s brother, but I swear I think he might die if you don’t just at least talk to him. I’ve actually talked to Jake…” she reveals, and you wouldn’t have questioned her talking to Heeseung’s friend if it weren’t for the way she said it.
“You have?” you repeat with a suggestive tone.
“I have,” she says with a smile, “but that’s not the topic right now. Anyway, he said that Heeseung’s been losing his mind trying to figure out what to do. I think it’d make things a lot easier if you just went and talked to him, cleared things up, confessed your undying love for him, hm?”
“Who are we confessing to?” Seeun asks, suddenly appearing at the door and making you and Chaeyeong scream in genuine terror.
“Nice to see you guys, too,” she chuckles before flopping down on the bed.
Chaeyeong is only good with her words when it comes to arguing - she’s perhaps the most terrible liar you’ve encountered in your life. But at least she knows this, and is always deft at switching the topic rather than attempting to come up with an excuse. “Y/N and I were just talking about watching some movies with the boys tonight. Apparently, they’re having a movie night at your place since you’ve got the best TV, and Jake asked if we wanted to join.”
You know better than to look surprised by Chaeyeong’s words and make it clear that she’s lying, but you’re still caught off-guard by the sudden news. Movie night meant being in a darkened room in proximity to Heeseung, and we all know what happened the last night you were in a dark room with him.
“Y/N and I thought it was a good idea, but we wanted to ask you first. Right, Y/N?” Chaeyeong suddenly prompts, momentarily tearing you away from your thoughts of Heeseung’s lips on yours.
“Right,” you reply, somehow successfully pretending like you’re not on the verge of spontaneously combusting. You’re even more embarrassed now that you know that Chaeyeong and Jake know about your little crush, and you can’t even pretend it isn’t there like you usually do.
Seeun hums. “Alright, sounds fun.”
The three of you chat the rest of the afternoon away, and before you know it, you’re getting ready to go to Seeun’s house. As you rummage around your drawers for that one pair of soft sweatpants that manages to be the most comfortable article of clothing on Earth while also making your butt look amazing, your phone buzzes twice, and so do Chaeyeong’s and Seeun’s. The first notification is of Heeseung having added you to a group chat simply named “movie night”, and the second is of a link being sent to said chat. When you click on it, it redirects you to a poll to rank ten movies in order of how much you want to watch them. Your favorite movie is on the list, and you can’t help but wonder whether it’s a coincidence or whether it’s something you’d talked about during high school and that he’d somehow remembered.
Once everyone has voted, you receive a second link, this one asking you to rank the three top movies in watch order. A smile breaks on your lips at this - it’s very Heeseung of Heeseung to do this and avoid later confrontation. As if to confirm this thought, your phone dings for a third time with a text from him that reads “this is so we don’t spend thirty minutes choosing a movie.” You’re not sure why everything he does is so endearing to you, all you know is that trying to avoid as much conflict as possible is a very Heeseung thing to do, and you’re grateful for it too.
When you get to Seeun’s house around seven-thirty p.m., the first movie is already up on the TV, waiting to be played. It’s horror, and you’re glad it wasn’t picked to be watched last, otherwise, you might’ve had trouble falling asleep. You quickly notice that Heeseung is the only one of the boys not currently sitting on the couch or in an armchair, and the question appearing in your head is answered almost right away when Seeun asks about her brother’s whereabouts.
“He’s just in the kitchen getting the drinks ready,” Jay answers as he sprawls his body even more across the armchair he’s reserved for himself.
“Why don’t you go help him out, Y/N?” Chaeyeong proposes with a deceptively innocent smirk, and if Seeun hadn’t been watching, you’d have given your hellspawn of a friend a serious death glare, but all you can do is mumble out “sure” and make your way to the dreaded kitchen. The butterflies you used to feel when thinking of Heeseung or being around him before have now turned into brutal rhinos trampling your insides, and it doesn’t feel so nice.
“Hey, Heeseung,” you say quietly as you enter the kitchen, and your nerves make your own voice sound unfamiliar to your ears. He gasps at your sudden appearance, a blush immediately creeping on his cheeks, and you’re glad the lid on the bottle of Coke he’s holding is tightly screwed, otherwise, it might’ve spilt everywhere.
“O-oh, hey, Y/N,” he stammers in response. It’s awkward for three seconds as the two of you stare at each other until you remember why you’re here in the first place.
“Um, I heard you might need some help?” you ask, and again, the sound of your own voice, so squeaky and unsure, makes you wince.
“Oh, sure. Thanks,” he says with a hint of a smile. “Here, you can fill this bowl with ice.”
You comply, and the refreshing feeling of the ice against your fingers somewhat helps to cool you down. It’s only quiet for a few moments, because although starting a conversation is terrifying, the tension in the silence and the thought of your feelings being left unsaid is far worse. So you take a deep breathe and open your mouth to speak.
“I’m sorry-”
“I’m sorry-”
You and Heeseung exchange a bewildered look, the surprise of apologizing at the same time quickly fading out into a burst of shy giggles. “You go first,” he says, risking another glance your way as he busies himself again with the glasses and the drinks.
“I’m sorry for avoiding you all week,” you start. “I wanted to talk to you, I was just… scared. And I didn’t know what to say.”
Explaining your behavior any further means confessing your feelings for him and articulating your fear of Seeun finding out, and even though it must be all clear as day by now, you’re still not quite ready to talk about it. Not now, when your friends are in the room right next to you. So you don’t add anything and hope that Heeseung has developed some sort of telepathy skills over the last few days.
When he doesn’t press any further, instead saying it’s okay and smiling at you (properly, with eye contact), a weight seems to be lifted off your heart. “Your turn now,” you say, still smiling. You’ve emptied the ice cube tray into the bowl, so all you can do is look at Heeseung and wait for him to speak. If only you knew how much harder that made it for him.
“I’m sorry for kissing you and then acting weird.” He can’t quite bring himself to look at you as he speaks, and even though he’s done getting the drinks ready, he keeps his eyes trained on the glasses as if they’ll tell him what to say next. “I’m not sorry for kissing you,” he adds quickly, “not at all.” Heat rises to your face and you have to tear your gaze away from him for a second. “I was confused ‘cause I never thought you might… want that too,” he says, voice quieter than before, like he’s scared that the others might hear him - like he’s scared that you might hear him.
The words are right there at the tip of your tongue, begging to be let free - so for once, you comply. “I do.” Your voice is just as quiet as his, perhaps even more so, and if it wasn’t for Heeseung’s sharp intake of breath, you’d have thought he didn’t hear you.
Your gazes lock, and the simultaneous relief and fear you feel are mirrored in his wide eyes. His face then breaks into a huge grin, and he is so dazzlingly handsome that you have to look away once more. You smile at the ground instead, grateful that breathing is something you do without having to think about it, otherwise, you’d have stopped doing it a long time ago.
Neither of you says anything more, letting the silence do its job. You look back up at him as he sighs deeply, almost contentedly, it seems. He smiles at the glasses as if they told him the right thing to say. He looks at you, smiles wider, looks away, looks back, looks away again, scratches the back of his head. You watch the whole time, small giggles bubbling up your throat and out of your lips.
He sighs once more and looks back at you, keeping his eyes on yours this time. “Okay, we should head back now. But talk more later?” he asks, and you nod immediately. Any other time, you’d have been embarrassed to show your interest so obviously, but you’d just told each other you both wanted to kiss the other, so agreeing to talk more later felt like nothing now.
“Okay,” he repeats, grin still wide on his lips as he picks up the tray and heads back to the others, you following close behind.
“Took you long enough,” Seeun says, scrolling on her phone as you step into the living room, but you’re too focused on something else to quip back at her.
Jay is still reigning over his armchair while Sunghoon, Seeun, Chaeyeong and Jake, in this order, occupy the main couch that faces the TV. This means that the only spot left for you and Heeseung to sit in is the other armchair opposite Jay’s, obviously big enough for one person but slightly too small for two people to sit comfortably on, as in to sit without their bodies touching each other.
Heeseung had just admitted he wanted to kiss you. You had also just admitted to Heeseung you wanted to kiss him. Now, you were going to sit together in an armchair that forced two people into proximity, and you had to pretend like that was fine.
When you manage to take your eyes away from the godforsaken armchair, your eyes meet Jake’s, then Chaeyeong’s, and that’s when you realize. They did it on purpose. The poorly-concealed smirks on their faces and giggles threatening to escape their lips as they take in your reaction make it all too clear. You could strangle your best friend right now. You know she’s doing you a favor, and deep down, you’re thankful for it, but you also know sitting through these movies is going to be the most arduous task of your life when Heeseung is right there. Close enough to touch, close enough to lace your fingers together or thread yours through his hair. You remembered very well from your game of seven minutes in heaven that it was just as soft as it looked.
You send Chaeyeong yet another death glare, but it only makes her smile more. You set the bowl of ice on the table after Heeseung’s put the drinks tray down, and immediately make yourself a glass of Sprite to keep your hands occupied for at least a little bit.
While you do that, Heeseung takes a seat on the armchair, and the sight you’re greeted with when you turn to sit next to him makes you almost drop your drink. After the little confession-like moment you shared in the kitchen, it seems like all his confidence from before the party has returned to him. He’s taken a comfortable seat indeed - he’s shamelessly manspreading, thighs almost taking up the whole space as if inviting you to find your own seat there. He lets himself be engulfed by the soft cushions as his head falls back against the headrest, exposing his neck and prominent Adam’s apple.
You’d just gotten used to shy, flustered Heeseung again, only for him to return to his confident self in the blink of an eye. You try not to let it deter you, especially because you’re not the only two in this room, but his smirk as he looks up at you makes it hard not to. All you can do is redirect your death stare towards him, but sadly, much like with Chaeyeong, the only effect it has is to make him smile wider, as if torturing you was a fun pastime for them.
You mumble at him to scooch then sit down next to him, knees bent close to your chest so your legs don’t touch his too much, but that plan is quickly thrown out of the window when you feel his hand sneaking behind your back until it reaches your waist, settling there. Even with a layer of fabric between his hand and your skin, the contact sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to keep yourself from audibly gasping. Conscious of the drink in your hand, Heeseung pulls you gently towards him, making your bent knees fall to the side and rest on his thigh. So much for keeping your distance.
Even your idea of occupying your hands with a drink turns out to be useless twenty minutes into the movie when the first jumpscare almost makes you spill your Sprite all over you and Heeseung. You take a big gulp before leaning forwards to set your glass on the table, and Heeseung’s hand stays put the whole time, even squeezing gently when you find your seat again. Without the drink, you know it’s a bit weird to stay sitting upright, but you can’t imagine leaning fully back against Heeseung or resting your head on his shoulder. This already feels like a lot - to be even closer to him would probably send you into cardiac arrest. Plus, even in the darkness of the room, the light coming from the TV screen would be enough for the others to see your and Heeseung’s position on the armchair, and you definitely don’t need Seeun to see you cuddling up to her brother.
You’re already tense from sitting right next to Heeseung, and the movie playing on the screen is not helping - creepy music that puts you on edge, camera angles that only let you see the character’s face and nothing else, weird silhouettes that flash for just a second - this is one of the rare times a horror movie actually does what it’s supposed to do, i.e. scare you. You almost managed to forget the boy’s presence next to you, but when a particularly suspenseful scene plays, you instinctively reach out to grab something, anything, and of course, that happens to be his wrist. You’re so immersed in the movie that it’s only when he wriggles out of your grasp and takes your hand in his instead that you realize what you’ve done.
It’s like somebody pressed the pause button as you look down at your intertwined hands, the sound and light coming from the TV screen not registering in your mind anymore. When you dare to look at Heeseung’s face, he’s already shyly smiling down at you. He quickly turns away to watch the movie instead, but you’re still too focused on the warmth of his hand and the feeling of his fingers between yours to care whether the stupid white girl will make it out of the house safely or not.
This is something you’ve daydreamed about a thousand times before. Every time you’d ride the bus together or walk side by side, you wondered what would happen if you just reached out and grabbed his hand. It was always right there - but the line you’d be crossing seemed miles and miles away. Now that it’s finally happening, you realize it’s a lot better than you could ever have imagined. You feel like you should be freaking out, scared by what this simple touch means and by the fact that Seeun could turn her head at any moment and see you holding hands with her brother, but all you feel is contentment. Your feelings for Heeseung just needed to be reciprocated, and now that you know they might be - no, that they are - it’s like you can be at peace with them.
Feeling bolder, you squeeze Heeseung’s hand once then bring it to rest on your knee. You sense his gaze on your face once again, but you avoid it and keep your eyes fixated on the TV screen, unable to keep yourself from smiling even though one of the side characters is getting brutally murdered. Your smile only gets bigger when he squeezes your hand back.
You stay like this for so long that your and Heeseung’s hands seem to melt together, and you can hardly tell where your own fingers end anymore. The doorbell rings during another tense scene, making everyone jump in their seats, but it’s just the pizza guy.
Seeun goes to get the door and pay, and the poor girl has barely placed the pizzas on the coffee table that the boys are already pouncing on it like starved children. Only Heeseung stays put, laughing at his friends and waiting for them to get a slice. The fact that he gives you a plate - with a slice of your favorite pizza, no less - before getting his own shouldn’t make your heart race as much as it does, but your cheeks still heat up at the simple gesture. The darkness of the room does nothing to hide your flustered expression as you mumble out a ‘thank you.’
You all eat your fill and watch the rest of the movie, agreeing that the end was quite disappointing (even though you were all stressing out and holding onto each other for dear life during the climax - Heeseung’s hand found yours again as soon as you were done eating, and you’re pretty sure one of his fingers was close to breaking with how hard you were grabbing him).
To everyone’s surprise, Seeun announces that she’s going to bed halfway through the second movie.
“But it’s only eleven p.m.!” Chaeyeong protests, as if knowing the time would make Seeun change her mind.
“I know, but that pizza took me out for some reason. I’ve been falling asleep for the past half hour, might as well just go to bed.” There’s not much to argue, so a chorus of ‘goodnights’ ensues as Seeun trudges upstairs. The three on the couch immediately use the added space to spread out more, Sunghoon extending his legs to the side so that the back of his knees rests in Chaeyeong’s lap and his feet in Jake’s. Both of them complain about the weight but don’t do anything to make him actually move, so he contentedly keeps his position.
You can’t help but think that with Seeun gone, you can also make yourself more comfortable. You’re thinking about whether to change your position on the armchair, going over the different ways Heeseung might react, when you catch Chaeyeong’s look. She raises her eyebrows at you as if to say, “what are you waiting for?” as if your next move should be obvious. You look away from her and back at the screen, then start to lean backwards as naturally as possible, but that’s hard to do when your heart is beating a thousand miles an hour. Luckily (or not) for you, Heeseung seems to get the message immediately and wraps his free hand around your shoulder, bringing you closer to him - closer than you had intended to.
The loudness of the movie isn’t enough to drown out the sound of your sharp intake of breath at the sudden proximity, and you feel your face heating up when Heeseung chuckles at your reaction. This is a comedy movie you’ve watched a bunch of times already, which makes it all too easy for you to focus on him rather than the screen. Now that your head rests on his shoulder, if you turned your face ever-so-slightly, you could get a proper whiff of his cologne and his skin. You really, really want to bury your nose in his neck and inhale, but you’re afraid that might get you a couple of weird looks.
You look down at your intertwined hands again and happily realize that you can now unabashedly stare at Heeseung’s hands the way you had always wanted to. You can finally play with his long fingers, tracing the outline of them and bending them softly at the knuckles, and admire the lines on his palm as if they might reveal everything you want to know about him. You can finally do it, so you do, almost unconsciously - you don’t realize that you’re touching his hand as freely as if it were your own until you hear his breath start to get shakier.
You halt your motions right away and look up at him alarmed, scared that you’ve made him uncomfortable when he avoids your gaze. But then he reaches for your hand again and the corner of his lips tug ever-so-slightly into a small smile. You’re not sure if it’s the light of the TV screen on his face, but it even seems like his cheeks have reddened. You’ve been flustered one too many times to not recognize the symptoms, but it’s still surreal to think that you might have the same effect on Heeseung as he has on you.
Giddy with this new realization, you make yourself more comfortable against Heeseung, resting your head in the dip between his neck and his shoulder and bringing your knees closer to him. His hand travels from your shoulder to your waist, holding you there. You continue to play with his other hand, only half-paying attention to the movie. In this new position, you can feel Heeseung’s chest rising in rhythm with his breathing, and that is much more mesmerizing to you than any movie could be.
The only times you tear yourself away are when Jay brings snacks in from the kitchen and when you need to go to the toilet between the second and third movies. Other than that, you stay cuddled up close to Heeseung, basking in the warmth you’d been longing for for years. It’s so comfortable that you never want to leave, even when Heeseung’s touch burns as his hand sneakily finds its way underneath your t-shirt to trace patterns against the bare skin of your waist. You almost yelp from how unexpected but pleasant it is.
You both easily stay awake until the end of the third movie, perhaps because your nerves are too much in a frenzy from being so close for you to feel sleepy. Sunghoon, Jake and Chaeyeong, however, have all fallen asleep, and Jay wishes you goodnight and heads upstairs as soon as the movie is over.
In a whispered conversation that feels too intimate for your own good, you and Heeseung decide to let the others sleep on the couch rather than wake them up, and to clean up the pizza boxes and other things littering the coffee table.
It’s quiet as you throw the trash away and put everything back in cupboards or in the fridge. You’re on your last bite of a cold slice of pepperoni pizza when Heeseung breaks the comfortable silence.
“So…”
You look at him as he stands, lower back against the counter and gaze directed towards the ground. Now that you’re in a bright room, you know that the blush on his cheeks isn’t just a trick of the light. A smile that mirrors his grows on your lips at his endearing shyness.
“So…” you echo, making him chuckle.
“I’m not sure where to start,” he confesses, scratching the back of his neck. You’re not sure how this is the same Heeseung that had held you close to him just moments prior, but you understand that he might revert back to his nervous self when he’s in a more serious situation. You’re not completely relaxed either.
You pretend to think for a second, but you know exactly what it is you want to ask. “Well, there is this thing I’ve been curious about…” you start. He looks at you and tilts his head to the side, so you take it as your cue to go on. “What the hell happened when you were away at college for you to come back so different?” you ask with an amused tone to your voice.
So he tells you about his freshman year. About the party that Jake dragged him to and everything that ensued after it. He doesn’t go into too much detail about exactly how he met Yunjin or all the flirting (and kissing) practice he’s had, just saying that he found ways to build his confidence - and at the end, he quietly confesses that he’d done it to find the courage to confess to you, but that it hadn’t gone so well after all. You try not to dwell on the fact that he changed so much for you, because thinking about it for too long would probably melt you into a puddle.
“What do you mean, it didn’t go so well?” you question softly, lowering your voice to the same volume as him. You’ve realized that when you and Heeseung talk, you often end up doing so really quietly. You don’t know why you like it so much.
“Well, you know, you’ve been avoiding me all week,” he starts, trying to make his tone the least reproachful he can, because he’s not mad at you, not at all - if anything, he’s mad at himself. “So I thought I’d really messed things up.”
“You didn’t mess anything up, Heeseung. If anything, I’m the one who made things weird. I just…” You sigh. “I’m so scared of Seeun finding out. But…”
“But?” he prompts, a hopeful look on his face. Clearly, dating his sister’s best friend isn’t as much of a dilemma for him as it is for you.
“But I’m more scared of letting you go now that I finally have you,” you say to the ground.
A beat passes. “So don’t,” he whispers, voice so low you barely hear it - but you do, and you understand his words loud and clear. They resonate in your head as he takes a step closer to you, then another and another. You feel your heart pulse throughout your entire body when he reaches you, standing right in front of you.
Your breath hitches when he rests one of his hands on the kitchen counter behind you. Gently, he cups one side of your face with his other hand and brushes your cheek with his thumb, prompting you to look up at him. He’s so close you could count every single one of his eyelashes.
“So don’t,” he repeats with a small smile. When he bends down to kiss you, melting against his lips is the easiest thing you’ve ever done.
The feeling of his soft lips against yours brings you back immediately to that closet. You both only realize just how much you’d been itching to pick things up from where you’d left them when the kiss gets heated in a matter of mere seconds, your need and longing for each other over the past five days evident in the way you pull each other impossibly close.
Your hands reach up, first resting on his shoulders but quickly finding their way towards the back of his neck, grabbing at the hair there almost instinctively, desperate to have something to hold onto. Meanwhile, his hands brush along your sides, moving from your hips to your waist before they encircle your middle in an attempt to bring you closer to him.
There’s no battle for dominance in your kiss, no trying to win the other over, no trying to make the other succumb - rather, you fall easily into each other’s rhythm, relishing in the other’s taste and the long awaited proximity. His mouth is soft against yours, his hair is soft under your hands, and his touch is driving you insane. You never want to stop.
After a few minutes, however, the light-headedness from a lack of air and kissing so passionately gets too much, so you draw back slightly to take a breath - but Heeseung seems to have other plans. He reacts immediately to you pulling away, and doesn’t even give you a second to breathe before pressing his lips back against yours, as though his air were your kiss.
The suddenness makes you gasp, and he takes that opportunity to brush his tongue against yours, deepening the kiss even further than before. You feel your heartbeat speed up when his hands trail back down your body, but when he lowers himself slightly to reach the back of your thighs, picking you up and setting you on the counter with ease, never once breaking the kiss, you’re pretty sure your soul actually leaves you. All you can think about is Heeseung and all you can do is continue kissing him like your life depends on it. Having your face at the same level as his now that you’re up on the counter makes it all even easier and more comfortable.
But it also means he has easier access to your neck, and as soon as he realizes that, he jumps on the opportunity. Breaking away from the kiss, he presses his lips to the corner of your own before making his way along your jawline and down your neck. Your breaths come out heavy, almost sigh-like, and you really have to keep yourself from making any noise, lest the others in the room right next to you might wake up and hear you. The feeling of Heeseung’s lips on the sensitive skin of your neck is completely new to you, but it’s an amazing kind of new - it’s the kind of new you know you won’t ever get enough of, even when it becomes familiar.
His kisses are burning hot, and yet goosebumps spread all over your body. When he finds the spot that has you taking in a sharp breath and gripping his hair tighter, Heeseung is quick to focus his attention there and there only. He nips lightly at the skin, and that has you whispering out his name. Hearing that only makes him double down on his actions; he alternates between biting down and kissing to relieve your skin, and he’s only satisfied when there’s a bright red spot in the crook of your neck. God, where did he learn how to do all that? Is this what they teach in college?!
He looks up at you with a proud smile, and he’s so cute that you almost say nothing about the very obvious mark he just left on you, but you still feel the need to scold him. “You’re gonna get us in trouble, doing things like this,” you say with a smile just as bright as his, which probably doesn’t make you look very serious, but you can’t help it - you’re on cloud nine right now.
“What if I want to get into trouble with you?” he replies, gaze fixed on your lips. You can’t say anything in return at that, so you just slightly shake your head in amusement and lean back in to kiss him again.
It seems that sharing so much oxygen has gotten to both of your heads, because this time around, the kiss is more light-hearted than intense, noses bumping into each other and teeth almost clashing from how hard the both of you are smiling, giggles spilling out through every touch of your lips.
“See? I told you!”
The sudden sound of Jake’s voice coming from the doorway forces you and Heeseung apart and your face heats up immediately at the sight of Jake, Chaeyeong and even Sunghoon all looking at the two of you with a surprised but proud expression on their faces.
He takes a small step back from you and turns his body to face them, but can’t actually bring himself to look at them; you’re not much better, smiling shyly at your lap and playing with your hands in shame at being caught. At least it wasn’t by Seeun.
Sunghoon approaches Heeseung with big steps, clapping a hand loudly against his friend’s back when he reaches him. “You finally did it, man! I’m so proud of you,” he exclaims, and actually sounds really excited.
Heeseung risks a glance your way, obviously embarrassed by his friend’s words, but it only makes you smile harder. You slightly curse yourself for not having realized Heeseung liked you back earlier - you could’ve done this such a long time ago. As Sunghoon continues congratulating Heeseung, you catch Chaeyeong’s gaze, and she winks at you. You find yourself relieved to have her on your side, but you know that sooner or later, you’ll have to talk to Seeun about this.
Indeed, the five of you head upstairs to go to bed, and before Heeseung and you go your separate ways, he catches your hand, squeezes it once tightly as if to bid you a silent ‘good night,’ then smiles his bright smile at you - and you know you’re in deep, far too deep to keep it secret for long.
(There’s an awkward conversation the next morning when Seeun asks how the hell you had gotten a hickey and Chaeyeong immediately jumps in, saying she did it. “For… practice,” she’d explained with as convincing a smile as she could. Luckily for you both, Seeun wouldn’t put it past her to actually do that, so she didn’t question it much further.)
--
You and Heeseung start sneaking around anyway, not quite ready to reveal your budding relationship to the world (read: Seeun).
You can’t hang out at your house, because your parents would see or hear him, and blabber innocently to the adult Lees, even if you told them not to - why couldn’t they talk to each other about their kids dating? It’s great news! Let’s have a family dinner! What? You don’t want Seeun to know? But she’s your best friend! She’ll understand, she’ll be happy for you!
You don’t need to actually have the conversation to know what your parents will say. You’ve known them for eighteen years, after all.
For more obvious reasons, you can’t hang out at his house, either - if you’re there, it means you’re with Seeun, and the risk of her finding you in her brother’s room was too great to take.
At least Heeseung has a car. But it’s not like you can go many places, anyway - the town you live in isn’t huge, chances of running into an old classmate or even a friend are high, news travels fast, word of Heeseung and you dating could easily get back to Seeun. You went to your local diner for your first secret date with Heeseung (Chaeyeong, of course, knew about it, but Seeun thought your period cramps were too bad to sleep over that night), and there, you’d seen three different people that you knew, and Heeseung two.
He didn’t seem to care much about his sister, or anyone for that matter, finding out about the two of you - in fact, if it was up to him, he’d have screamed it to the world right after you’d kissed at the party. But he respected your wishes, and even found your slight paranoia and darting eyes the whole evening somehow endearing - although he wished you’d paid more attention to him than to the other patrons in the diner. You hadn’t even noticed when he stole a whole handful of fries from your plate, or when he switched your strawberry milkshake with his vanilla one.
So he did the one thing he knew would get your attention - when you both reached his car, he led you to the backseat before you could head to the passenger side. You weren’t sure what he was doing until he had you on his lap, a devilish smirk on his lips that you only got a glimpse of before he trapped your own, slightly parted in surprise, in a kiss. There was a faint protest of “what if someone sees us” but any complaint you might have held flew away when his tongue ran over your bottom lip, asking for entry that you immediately granted. After all, you were just as desperate for more of him as he was for more of you.
You couldn’t break away from the kiss - how could you, when his lips slotted against yours so perfectly, as if you were specially crafted for one another? All you could do was hope that the fire between you two made the windows of Heeseung’s car fog up so that no one could see inside and get a glimpse of what you were doing in there.
It wasn’t any of their business anyway.
That first date opened your eyes to the many advantages of car dates. On warm summer nights like the ones you’re currently having, you can find a wide, empty space, and park there, laying down a blanket on the roof of the car and admiring the stars. You can spend hours sharing childhood anecdotes, asking Heeseung a thousand times about the moment he realized he liked you, and telling each other the things you’d always been too scared to reveal to another person. If you get hungry, you can drive to any food place and enjoy your late-night meal from your seats in the parking lot, or drive to another place with a view - although you don’t really need any sort of scenery when Heeseung sits next to you. His delighted expression as he takes his first bite or his eyes looking at you with fondness you didn’t know you could elicit from someone are some of the beautiful sights your eyes have ever been blessed with.
And after that, because innocent hand-holding and not-so-innocent thigh touches always lead to something else, most nights, you find yourselves in the backseat, basking in each other’s warmth and relishing the other’s touch. Every time, you grow needier. Every time, you need more. But so does he, and so you take and take and take just as much as you give and give and give. Even after two weeks of doing this, you’re just as on edge as before, just as reactive to any certain look he might send your way or any touch of his. You’re so relaxed, so comfortable when the two of you are talking - but as soon as you notice him glancing at your lips, or the streetlights hit him a certain way, you’re reminded of the incredible way his kiss makes you feel, and your mind fixates on it, not satisfied until you have his body close to yours.
You also quickly find out that Heeseung’s favorite drink is Coke and you almost always taste it on his lips. You even bought Coke-flavored chapstick just to have a trace of him when you can’t be together (you’re also maybe hoping that he’ll taste the soda on your own lips, and start thinking of you whenever he drinks it.
What you don’t know is that Heeseung is always thinking of you, no matter what he’s doing, anyways).
There’s also moments where you both revert back to your flustered selves, like when you stare too hard at him for his liking (he actually loves it, it just makes him really shy) or when he compliments you out of nowhere. In those moments, it’s like you forget about the many passionate kisses you’ve shared, like you’re back on one of those comfortably silent bus rides or in that sunlit room, trying to finish a puzzle together. But then his hand grazes against yours, and you’re reminded you can hold it with confidence now - you can do many things with confidence now. As the days pass, Heeseung is pleasantly surprised to see you initiate more and more of your makeout sessions, and although your impatience to get your hands on him strokes his ego, he’ll never get tired of you avoiding his gaze when he calls you pretty.
You have to make sure not to meet up too often, otherwise your continued absence would raise Seeun’s suspicion, but it’s also hard to go more than a day without spending a little time with the other. It seems that after years of unknown mutual pining, you’ve both run out of patience and can’t stand to be away from each other for too long. This is why, more than once, Heeseung has pulled you into his room just to smell your hair or bury his face in the crook of your neck or make out - but you always make him put a five-minute timer on.
Truth be told, even though you knew your feelings for Heeseung weren’t surface level, in all the times you’d daydreamed about finally being with him, you hadn’t expected it’d be so intense. Maybe that’s what happens when you find out that the other person felt the same way you had felt about them the whole time - you feel so stupid for not finding out sooner that you can’t afford to waste a second, and years of deep emotions are squeezed into mere hours of being able to see each other at a time.
It’s the hardest when your two friend groups hang out - he’s right there, but you can’t do anything. He sits next to you at the table or on the couch and pretends like everything’s completely normal, but you grow even quieter than usual because his scent and proximity drive you crazy. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing you getting flustered or clearly having to hold back - something about only him having that effect on you does something to his brain.
Chaeyeong and Jake are both your allies and worst enemies. While they always cover for you, they also love to put you and Heeseung in… situations. Like “off-handedly” mentioning that game of seven minutes in heaven or that movie night (without mentioning you directly, of course, but they know what you’re thinking and you know what they’re thinking), sending you on snack runs together or somehow leaving you two behind, alone in a room.
Or proposing an evening at the pool.
During the summer, your municipal pool stays open late at night every day, and on week evenings, it doesn’t get very crowded. If you go there once the sun’s set, the atmosphere is amazing - the glow of the lights in the pool gives the whole space a bright blue hue, and the stars shine directly inside through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. If you’re lucky, you and your friends might go on a night when you get the whole place to yourselves.
You know it’s a good idea. You know you’ll all have fun, but you also know you’ll have to pretend that seeing Heeseung half-naked with wet hair isn’t putting you on the verge of spontaneously combusting. The worst part is you don’t even need to use your imagination at all to conjure up that image - you’ve seen him in the hallway as he came out of the shower before, so you already know how devastatingly good he’ll look at the pool. You’re weak in the knees just thinking about it.
Getting ready for the pool and the drive there pass in a blur, and before you know it, you’re in the changing room, and all you need to do is dress down to your bikini and head towards the pool where a shirtless Heeseung will be waiting to greet you.
You wrap your towel around your waist in an attempt to cover yourself until you actually need to get into the water. Because not only are you freaking out about seeing Heeseung in his swimsuit, you’re also nervous about him seeing you half-naked. The last time you went to the pool together, puberty still hadn’t hit either of you, and you were still in the happy years of not being self-aware of your body or of others’. Even though summer hang-outs with his friends and yours weren’t so uncommon, you’d never gone to the pool together, and the fact that you’re now dating and you know he’ll be looking at you only adds to your nerves.
All four boys are already in the water when you, Chaeyeong and Seeun arrive, and you notice with horror that they all quiet down and study the three of you as you approach and rid yourselves of your towels, setting them on a bench before heading into the water.
Boys.
It makes Chaeyeong giggle and Seeun roll her eyes, but your whole body is burning under Heeseung’s intense gaze. You watch as his eyes slowly make their way up your body as if trying to commit each inch of you to memory. When your eyes finally lock, a smirk grows on his lips as though he couldn’t care less that you caught him so unashamedly staring. At first, you look away with a huff, but his gaze doesn’t leave you as you and the girls wade into the water towards the boys, so you fix with him a pointed glare instead.
You do your best to ignore him as you all play around in the pool, racing each other to one end and back or trying to drown each other, but that’s hard to do when he seems so set on teasing you as much as he can. He sometimes switches victims and decides to terrorize his little sister or Jake instead, but you’re still his main target. You want to be mad at him, but he seems so excited and happy that you can’t bring yourself to actually scold him. You’ve never seen him so playful, and the way he laughs carefreely, head thrown back and eyes crinkling at the edges, makes your heart swell with adoration for him.
There aren’t that many other people in the pool, mostly kids from high school, who are hogging all the inflatable pool toys - but that doesn’t pose a problem for your group. “Let’s play chicken fight!” you hear Jake say at least four times before someone actually listens to him and agrees.
Someone calls out Jay’s name - you turn your head in the direction of the voice to find that it’s Jiung, whom you vaguely recognize as one of his friends from school. From his uniform, you assume that he’s on shift as the lifeguard. Jay swims towards him and they get into conversation, conveniently leaving six people to play Jake’s game.
This is how he pairs you up - you with Heeseung (of course), him with Chaeyeong and Sunghoon with Seeun. You notice the two of them sharing a small smile, and even though it’s quite dark, you’re pretty sure you notice their faces reddening. You glance at Chaeyeong, who’s already looking at you with a surprised expression - she saw it too. Jake is too excited to play chicken fight to pay anything else attention. He explains the rules, stricter than you’d expected and many of which seem completely made up by him, and announces who will play first. Clearly, Jake takes his chicken fighting very seriously.
You and Heeseung are first up against Seeun and Sunghoon. Heeseung lowers himself underwater so you can get onto shoulders, and you hold onto his head for dear life as he comes back up, loudly releasing the breath he’d been holding in. There’s something thrilling about being so close to Heeseung around the others that you can’t help but giggle for seemingly no reason. You even bend forwards, beaming down at him as you help him push his drenched hair out of his eyes. His eyes meet yours and you giggle together - for a second, it really feels like it’s just the two of you in the pool, but then Jake calls out for you to get ready and starts the countdown for the fight to start.
It’s a bit hard to concentrate on the game when Heeseung’s large hands hold tightly onto your bare thighs, but you do your best to will any impure thoughts away and focus on getting Seeun off of Sunghoon’s shoulders. You both laugh as you grab onto each other, trying to make the other fall while the boys splash each other with water. It’s a tense game that has Jake and Chaeyeong cheering from where they sit on the edge of the pool, and your balance is thrown off a couple times (when Seeun gets into a game, she stops at nothing to win), but Heeseung’s legs are strong and he’s always quick to steady you before you can fall over.
A loud noise coming from the other kids in the pool momentarily catches your attention, but Seeun immediately pounces on you, not unlike a predator on its prey. With a yelp, you fall back into the water, bringing Heeseung down with you. When you come back to the surface, the sound of your opponents celebrating their victory is no more than a faint ring in your ears - the feeling of Heeseung wrapping his arm around your waist and the way he beams down at you, murmuring that you did a good job, make you forget about everything and everyone around you. Your gazes only stay locked like this for maybe two seconds, but you swear time stops for a bit.
Jake’s voice snaps you out of your daze, and you and Heeseung take his and Chaeyeong’s seats on the side of the pool while they get ready to challenge Seeun and Sunghoon. You’re relieved to find that you actually manage to hoist yourself up out of the water and onto the pool’s edge without making a fool of yourself in front of Heeseung.
You want to watch the game peacefully and cheer on your friends, but Heeseung is making it a bit hard. He really, really doesn’t need to be sitting this close to you. He’s leaning back on his palms, toned stomach and chest on display, which is already attractive enough, but his right thigh is also pressed flush against your left one, so much so that you know it has to be intentional. Because he’s placed his right palm close behind you, you can feel his right arm against your lower back as well, and you’re almost tempted to lean back against it.
You’re completely lost in thought, brain only focused on everywhere your body and Heeseung’s touch. It’s like he can see into your mind - he lightly pinches your hip, just underneath the string of your bikini bottoms, and you almost let out a loud gasp. But you manage to keep it down and sit up straight instead, looking at him over your shoulder like he just killed your entire family. He has the audacity to laugh.
This man really has no shame, rendering you unable to think straight in front of everyone like this. Although, to be fair, it’s also partly your fault for reacting so much to such small things.
“Hey guys,” a vaguely familiar voice calls out, and you turn your head to find Jiung and Jay walking towards you. There’s a chorus of hey Jiungs from the four in the water, but they quickly get their heads back in the game. Jay stays standing, watching his friends fight while Jiung crouches behind you and Heeseung.
“So are you guys finally together?” he asks excitedly, a genuine grin on his face, and both you and Heeseung choke on your own saliva. Did everyone know about your mutual crushes before you two did?!
You exchange a glance with Heeseung but quickly look away, suddenly finding great interest in Chaeyeong’s and Seeun’s tactics to make each other fall over.
Heeseung’s eyes dart between your face and Jiung’s as he answers, as if scared he might say one wrong word and offend you in some way. “Um, yeah, we are. But we’re not really… telling people, I guess.”
Jiung gasps in delight, clasping Heeseung’s shoulder in what you guess is a congratulatory gesture. “Keeping it lowkey. Got it. Congrats, you guys. Jay told me about you, like, three years ago, and I’ve been weirdly invested ever since,” he admits honestly, and you try hard to fight back the grin threatening to spread on your lips. You’d never even spoken to Choi Jiung before.
From your peripheral, you can make out Heeseung turning his head to glare at his friend. “Thanks a lot, Jay,” he mumbles.
A loud splash catches everyone’s attention; Chaeyeong has fallen off of Jake’s shoulders, and the other two are celebrating their second win in a row. Your friend just laughs, getting her long hair out of her face, but Jake is practically fuming.
“You guys make a pretty good team, I guess,” he says, and even though it’s supposed to be a compliment, he really doesn’t sound happy about it.
“We do, don’t we?” Sunghoon echoes, looking up at Seeun with a smile.
“We do,” she answers with a giggle.
A giggle.
Seeun didn’t giggle. Unless…
You lock eyes with Chaeyeong. She looks just as surprised as you feel. You tilt your head towards the two lovebirds, who seem lost in their own world, Sunghoon jumping around in the water with Seeun still on his shoulders and laughing. Chaeyeong nods fervently, as if screaming, “I know, I’m seeing it too!”
Seeun didn’t giggle, unless she had a crush on someone. You very much remember the day in freshman year when her middle school crush Kim Sunwoo, a senior at the time, picked up her locker keys that she had dropped in the hallway. The way she turned around when he tapped on her shoulder, awestruck as he smiled, handing her her keys, was straight out of a movie. She blushed and giggled to herself about it for the next two weeks.
You turn to look at Heeseung, but he’s busy listening to Jake, Jay and Jiung as they come up with a strategy to make the victors lose next time around. You internally roll your eyes at their obliviousness, but at least now you know why Heeseung had never figured out you liked him back.
“C’mon Jiung, let’s go beat their arrogant asses,” Jay then prompts, making his friend chuckle and get into the water. They wade their way towards the others, and when Jiung gets on Jay’s shoulders, Seeun’s game face is back on. Your friend can be quite scary.
“Aren’t you supposed to be watching the pool, lifeguard boy?” Sunghoon taunts like a three-year-old, although you’re not sure that “lifeguard boy” is much of an insult. It’s generally accepted that lifeguards are pretty cool.
“Everyone left, dumbass,” Jiung answers plainly. “It’s just us.”
You all look around, and indeed, the high school kids are gone, which means you have the whole place to yourselves.
Seeun looks back at Jiung with a smirk. “Good for you. At least those kids won’t see how much of a loser you are when we destroy you and Jay.”
Chaeyeong and Jake ‘ooh’ at her threat while you and Heeseung watch amusedly. You can’t help but think it isn’t that serious, but seeing your friends so into the game is quite fun.
“Bring it on!” Jiung exclaims, and neither team lets Jake count down before they start attacking each other. The poor guy tries to stop Seeun and Jiung from playing so dirty, reminding them that hair-pulling and armpit-tickling are forbidden, but the two really couldn’t care less, so he quickly gives up trying to make them abide by the rules.
Chaeyeong comes to sit next to you and nudges your shoulder with her own to get your attention. “What do you think’s happening with Seeun and Sunghoon? It’s definitely new.”
You almost hear the boys’ necks crack as they whip their heads to look at you. “Something’s happening with Seeun and Sunghoon?” they whisper-scream at the same time. You’re glad the topic subjects are too engrossed in their game to hear anything.
You chuckle at their reaction but Chaeyeong rolls her eyes. “Obviously. They’ve been acting like teenagers this whole evening.”
“They are teenagers,” Heeseung says with a slight frown as he watches his sister and his friend. “They’re eighteen and nineteen.”
Chaeyeong tuts. “That’s not important. Plus, you really don’t get to anything, Heeseung, when you’ve been going around fucking your sister’s best-”
Jake starts immediately howling of laughter, but all you want in that moment is to let yourself drown in the water and never have to face your friend ever again.
Heeseung’s eyes are wide and his hands are frantically shaking ‘no’ as incoherent protests spill out of his lips. “I- no- we haven’t, we’re not-” He sighs defeatedly when Jake just laughs harder and Chaeyeong joins in.
She knows you guys haven’t done anything of that sort yet, you’ve been telling her - or rather she’s been making you tell her - everything that happens between you and Heeseung. She’s just teasing you, and it’s really working, and you hate her for it. You fix her with a glare that does nothing to make her laughter stop. When you look at Heeseung, his eyebrows have furrowed deeper, and a light blush has spread all over his face, ears and even his neck. With a small pout on his lips, he’s never looked more adorable. Nothing beats the sight of a flustered and slightly mad Heeseung.
His hands have returned to his lap, his right one fidgeting with the hem of his swim trunks. In a moment of boldness, you decide to take it in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze as you smile at him - to be honest, you were also slightly amused by Chaeyeong’s words. She was right; he really couldn’t say anything about his sister liking one of his friends when he’d made out with you so often.
You notice with satisfaction that he can’t keep eye contact and that the color on his face deepens.
You all turn back to the tense game in front of you, noting with surprise that Seeun actually seems to have the upper hand over Jiung. She must be a seasoned chicken fighter, because she loses neither her balance nor her grip on Jiung once. The older boy doesn’t even yelp when he falls into the water, as if he’d seen it coming. Beaming proudly, Seeun gets off of Sunghoon’s shoulders and the two share a quick celebratory hug before shaking their opponents’ hands. The four of them swim their way towards you and you all hang out for a while, letting the fighters regain their energy.
“There’s something I’m not really supposed to do…” Jiung then says, and chuckles when he feels seven pairs of eyes watching him intently. “But I have the keys to the slides, and I know how to operate them.” Everyone cheers before he can even finish his sentence, and Jake and Chaeyeong are quick to get out of the water and run upstairs to the entrance of the slides. Jiung hurries to get the keys and follow them, the rest of you close behind.
Your heart starts beating loudly as soon as you place your foot on the first step. You try to ignore it - you’d never been a fan of attractions like big water slides or roller coasters, but you should get over it one day or another. Might as well try today.
That’s what you keep telling yourself, but once you’ve reached the slides and Jiung gets them running, the loud gush of water falling rapidly makes you feel like you’re going to faint. Seeun’s screams as she goes down, even though they’re from excitement, don’t help your lightheadedness.
When Jake pushes himself down the slide, you clear your throat to speak. You hadn’t even realized how dry your throat had gotten, and the shakiness in your voice takes you aback. “Um, I think I’m gonna sit this one out, guys. I’m not feeling too well.”
Everyone turns to you with a worried expression, and from your peripheral, you notice Heeseung’s hand jolting up towards you, but he stops himself before he actually touches you.
“Oh yeah, I forgot you don’t like slides,” Chaeyeong says with a pout.
“There’s nothing to be scared of! This is totally safe,” Jiung tries to reassure, but for some reason, his eagerness makes you even more doubtful.
“We can go together,” Heeseung suddenly offers. Judging from his expression, he seems surprised at his own words, as if he’d spoken out loud without realizing it. A chorus of agreement rises from the group, and Heeseung’s smile as he looks down at you makes you think that it might be okay to try - although you’re not sure if that’s because you want to get over your fear of slides, or if it’s because the idea of Heeseung’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist and keeping you safe is very alluring.
“O-okay,” you answer, and his smile widens.
You wait until everyone except for Jiung has gone down. Heeseung stands behind you the whole time, a calming hand on your shoulder and the other playing with your drying hair, and his presence actually does wonders to soothe you. When it’s your turn, you sit down right at the top of the slide, trying not to freak out from the feeling of the gushes of water underneath your thighs. For once, Heeseung’s touch as he sits behind you, encaging your body between his legs and his arms, is reassuring rather than fatally heart-fluttering. Now you understand what people mean when they say they feel like nothing can hurt them as long as they’re in their lover’s arms.
“You ready?” Jiung calls out. You’re too nervous to make a peep, only able to nod, so Heeseung answers for you.
“We are.” Just before Jiung can give Heeseung a push, the boy behind you bends down to whisper in your ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe, okay?”
You hum back but the faint sound is drowned out by the noise around you as you’re whisked down the slide. It’s so loud and so fast that you’re sure you’d have been screaming like you were being murdered had Heeseung not been there to calm you down. The grip you have on his hands probably hurts, but he doesn’t complain, just laughs from the adrenaline the ride is giving him, and his calmness manages to make your heart stay calm.
You hadn’t even realized you’d squeezed your eyes shut until he told you to open them. The previous flashing lights that had overwhelmed you even with your eyes closed were over, and when you blink your eyes open, you’re fascinated to find that there is no top over the slide, letting the stars shine down on you in all their glory. The feeling of the night breeze against your skin is surprisingly refreshing, and you actually let out a ‘wow,’ all of your previous anxiety slowly leaving your body. This time, when Heeseung giggles against your ear, you actually join him.
Your friends are the sweetest, and when you reach the end of the slide and fall into the water, they’re all clapping and cheering for you as if you’d just come first place in a marathon. You discern a sort of inquisitive look on Seeun’s face as she looks at you and her brother, but you decide to not pay it too much attention and swim away from the slide for Jiung’s arrival.
“So? Wasn’t too bad, right?” Heeseung asks with a grin, his hand sneakily finding yours underwater.
“No, it was nice, actually. Doesn’t mean I’m going a second time, though,” you reply, and he chuckles. You force yourself to look away from his smiling face because you know how easily you can get lost in his gaze, and you’d rather not raise any more suspicion. You swim to the edge of the pool, hoisting yourself up out of the water so you can dry off a bit in the night air.
Jiung whoops his whole way down, and as soon as he comes back to the surface, he asks who wants to go again. Everyone except for you and Heeseung raise their hands. “You’re not going again?” you ask him, eyebrows raised in surprise.
He’s still smiling, and you wished it was just the two of you so you could kiss that pretty smile right off his face. “No, one time was enough for me. I’ll stay here with you.”
This, of course, elicits an obnoxious chorus of ‘ooh’s from your friends. “O-kay,” Chaeyeong says in a singsong voice.
“We’ll leave you two to it, then,” Jake adds with a wiggle of his eyebrows. You hadn’t known you had such murderous tendencies in you until you met this boy.
When you catch Seeun’s gaze, she’s looking at you with slightly raised eyebrows. For a split second, you feel like you’re gonna crumble - she’s gonna figure it out, and she’ll hate you and never speak to you again, and- but then she smiles, just a tiny hint of a smile, and you think that maybe, just maybe, this might be fine after all.
You release a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding when she walks away with the others, but a second breath gets caught in your throat right away when Heeseung crosses his arms over your lap, and you realize it’s gonna be just you two for a little while now. It’s exactly what you had wished for not even a minute ago, but now that it’s actually happening, your heart starts beating wildly once again.
“I’m proud of you,” he says quietly, looking up at you with those big brown eyes you adore so much.
A grin breaks out on your face. He closes his eyes, sighing contentedly as your hand rakes through his dark locks. “Thank you,” you reply just as quietly. “I would never have done something like that on my own.”
He opens his eyes again. The way he looks at you makes you wonder what he sees in your eyes that has him so captivated. You just hope he can’t hear the loudness of your beating heart.
He presses himself closer to you, somewhat forcing your thighs open to accommodate his body in between them, and wraps his arms around your waist. Even if he can’t hear your heartbeat, he can surely hear your shaky intake of breath as he places a soft kiss to the top of your thigh before resting his cheek against it, closing his eyes like he’s planning on napping right there. Your fingers are still in his hair but your brain has stopped computing, so they stay immobile. You try to stay calm so as not to disturb the position Heeseung is in, but your stomach has never been so swarmed by butterflies as now.
Somehow, this feeling is even scarier than going down the slide - maybe because you knew the slide would end at some point. This feels like it might consume you whole and stay with you for the rest of your life. The worst part is you don’t even know exactly what it is that you’re feeling. But it’s everywhere. It makes your fingertips sizzle with electricity, it makes your head almost ache, and it twists your insides all around, but it’s also weirdly pleasant.
It makes you want more.
You can’t believe one simple kiss on your thigh is making you react this way, but now that you’ve felt it, it’s as though you might die if you don’t get to have it over and over again; you already know that a second or a third time won’t be enough either.
“Heeseung?” you call, his name coming out like a question, and his head whips up so quickly you think he might have been waiting for you to say something.
“Yeah?” he replies, something that sounds like anticipation making his voice come out as a whisper.
You weren’t even completely sure what it was you wanted to say, but the way Heeseung looks up at you eradicates any train of thought you’d had. It’s a different type of gaze than before, something you’d only gotten glimpses of during particularly heated make-out sessions but that Heeseung had always seemed to reign in. Hooded eyes that are darker than usual, that seem to be in some sort of a daze, giving the impression that he isn’t quite thinking straight. You’re sure you’ve also had that look in your eyes more than once, when Heeseung’s hand brushed along a particularly sensitive spot on your back or when he absent-mindedly thrusted his hips against yours as you straddled his lap in the backseat, making you moan into his mouth as he hurriedly apologized for getting carried away. You didn’t know how to tell him you were ready for whatever it was he wanted, so you always shushed him with an “it’s okay” and resumed kissing him feverishly. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t press yourself down against his bulge - that neither of you mentioned, but both knew was there - just to get a reaction out of him once in a while, and to get that fire-like feeling in your belly you were starting to crave more and more.
You try to push those far-from-innocent thoughts away from your mind and come up with something to say, but then someone disturbs your peace. Indeed, you hear Jake before you see him. “Heeseung and Y/N, you better not be smooching when I get there!”
Heeseung sighs deeply, a real, pained, frustrated sigh, and you’re glad you’re not the only one going crazy because of your friends. It’s like everyone has forgotten that you and Heeseung are supposed to be a secret. Reluctantly, he detaches himself from you and makes his way next to you, body still in the water but forearms resting on the ground next to the pool.
Another hour or so passes before stomachs start growling from too much fooling around in the water and you all agree to go home. Sadly, there’s nothing open so late in the night in your town, and none of you can be asked to drive all the way to the nearest city for food. On the whole drive home, Chaeyeong bombards Seeun with questions about Sunghoon. Seeun tries to avoid it at first, looking out the window to hide her growing blush, but once the two girls are similar in that once they have set their mind on something, you know they’ll get it. It only takes two minutes of arguing for Seeun to start spilling.
“Well… I’ve known him for a really long time, right? Him and Jay became friends right away, just like the three of us did. I’ve always associated him with Heeseung, so I never thought of him that way…”
“What way?” Chaeyeong cuts in, although she knows exactly what Seeun means.
“Like- like more than a friend,” Seeun explains, voice getting quieter the more she speaks. Chaeyeong squeals in excitement and you chuckle.
“So what happened?” Chaeyeong prompts, and you almost want to remind her to focus on the road. You don’t need to get into a car accident over Seeun’s love life.
Seeun sighs like she’s exasperated by Chaeyeong, but you catch her small smile in the rearview mirror and you know she’s actually happy to be talking about this with you guys. “So, you know that movie night we had?” she starts, waiting for the two of you to nod. You try not to think about what you did on that movie night. “Well, we were sitting next to each other, which usually would’ve been totally fine, right, but for some reason, it made me feel super nervous that night. Like I was hyper-aware of his presence next to me. I could actually smell him, and oh my God, he smells so good, I don’t know how I’d never realized that-”
You and Chaeyeong burst into laughter at that, and Seeun can’t help but join in. “Smelling good is definitely attractive,” you chime in, thinking about how intoxicating it is to have your nose buried in the crook of Heeseung’s neck and get a whiff of his scent.
“And, like, I’ve always known Sunghoon was handsome, right, I’m not blind, but I swear I never felt a particular type of way about him before then, just ‘cause I always saw him as one of my loser brother’s loser friends,” she says, and you make a mental note to repeat that to Heeseung later, “And at first I thought I was going crazy, that I was just feeling that way ‘cause we were sitting so close together in a dark room and everything, but then our knees touched, and I was like, ‘okay, I shouldn’t be losing my shit just ‘cause our knees touched,’ but I was losing my shit-”
She’s retelling the story in such a dramatic, un-Seeun-like and very Chaeyeong-like way that you can’t stop laughing, your stomach almost starting to hurt. “Which is why I went to bed during the second movie. And after that, I was thinking about him so much it was so weird, and I thought I was doomed ‘cause I didn’t wanna have a crush on my brother’s best friend, right?” she says, and Chaeyeong’s and your eyes meet for a second in the mirror. “But then you know that fair thing they had in town last week? You guys wouldn’t volunteer with me, but he was volunteering too, so we spent, like, three days in a row together, and it was really, really fun. We would spend the whole day together, eat together, even hang out afterwards and everything. And then we started texting, and today was the first time we saw each other again since then, actually…” She takes a deep breath there and laughs, as if relieved to have finally let it all out.
“This is amazing news. Absolutely fantastic news,” Chaeyeong beams. “How come you didn’t tell us sooner?”
“I really wanted to but I was scared I was making up a bunch of stuff in my mind and he still saw me as nothing more than his best friend’s sister. If it had been someone else I would’ve told you guys immediately, but I don’t know, I was already trying to wrap my head around the fact that I was starting to like this guy I’ve known my whole life, so I wasn’t ready to talk about it.”
If it had been someone else I would’ve told you guys immediately. You know that feeling all too well. It makes you think that you should just go ahead and tell Seeun about you and Heeseung, but after years of conditioning yourself that she could never find out about your crush on her brother, and now that you’re dating him, it’s not easy to just come out with it.
Your attention had drifted away from the conversation for a bit but you tune back in when Chaeyeong mentions college. “Plus, he goes to our state university, right? Just like us! That means you guys don’t have to worry about long distance, same for Heeseung and Y/N-” Chaeyeong’s eyes widen immediately when she realizes what she did.
“Heeseung and Y/N?” Seeun echoes, searching for your face in the rearview mirror.
Once more, you can thank your friend’s impeccable bullshitting abilities. “Oh, no, I just meant that even though she’s going to a different college than us, she’ll still know someone there. Not that they wouldn’t have to worry about long distance like you and Sunghoon.”
“Right,” Seeun answers, eyes still fixated on you in the mirror. An uncomfortable beat passes before she speaks again. “But is there… is there something happening between you and Heeseung, Y/N?”
You’d seen the question coming, but it still somehow manages to punch you in the stomach. Before you can even think of a way to tell your friend the truth in the most delicate way possible, your reflexes and old habits kick in. “No,” you simply reply, the lie coming to you way too easily. You hope she doesn’t notice the slight tremble in your voice - you’re definitely not as good a liar as Chaeyeong. “I mean, we’ve gotten closer this summer, but that’s about it.”
Chaeyeong stays silent, her eyes on the road. You’re less than a minute away from Seeun’s house, but you wish you could just get there already and have this conversation be over.
“Okay, if you say so,” she says, not sounding fully convinced. “But, you know, if there was, I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t be mad. A little weirded out, maybe, but not mad.” She’s looking at you so intently as she says this that you think she must know, otherwise she wouldn’t be saying all this. It’s like she’s asking you to just tell her, but still, you can’t bring yourself to do it. As if you’ve dug your own grave and have to lie in it.
Heeseung’s car is already in the driveway when you reach the Lees’ house, and he must have already gone up to his room because he isn’t in the kitchen or in the living room. You feel a slight pang of disappointment in your heart at the thought of not seeing him again tonight, even though it’s already so late, but you have a feeling you’ll stay up for hours thinking about his warm hands and his lips.
“Shower then food?” Seeun proposes when you’re all done taking your shoes off. You all nod and head up to her room. Just then, your phone buzzes with a text from Heeseung. Then another, and another, and the sound piques your friends’ interest.
“Who’s spamming you?” Chaeyeong asks, but she figures it out as soon as she sees the lovestruck smile on your face.
“Oh, just a groupchat I’m in,” you reply without looking up from your phone.
hee: Can you drop by my room?
hee: Find an excuse to leave and come and see me :D
hee: I want to see you.
hee: Oh sorry about the period I know you don’t like that
hee: I want to see you <;3
hee: !!!!!!!!!
hee: Please
you: be there in a min hee
you: i wanna see u too
hee: K
hee: :DDD
“Y/N, you wanna go first?” Seeun asks, snapping you out of it.
“Huh?”
“The shower. You wanna go first?” she repeats, amused by your sudden weird behavior.
“Oh, actually, um, I remembered my mom wanted to go to the farmers’ market at, like, nine tomorrow, so I should probably just sleep at home,” you say, which is actually true. You’ve never been so thankful for your mom’s love of organic and local produce. Thankfully, your friends also know about it, so they don’t question it at all and just wish you a good night.
Little do they know that you’re actually headed straight for Heeseung’s bedroom rather than your own. Normally, your paranoid brain would tell you that your friends, especially Seeun, might question why they didn’t hear the sound of the front door closing, but you doubt they’ll actually be paying attention to it.
You make a beeline for Heeseung’s room, not wanting to be caught by one of the girls as they go to the bathroom. Heeseung seems to be waiting for you, because you’ve barely knocked on his door and he’s already taking your hand, pulling you into his room.
It’s the first time you’ve been here since you were a kid, and you’re sure there’s many things on the walls and shelves to pick Heeseung’s brain about, any and every piece of himself interesting to you, but there’s one thing that stands out to you; it’s just the two of you in here. It makes your heart skip a beat in anticipation.
“Where’s Jake?”
Heeseung smiles shyly and looks down at your question. “I sort of, um, kicked him out.” You whip your head towards him at his words, looking at him with wide eyes. He chuckles. “I made him sleep over at Jay’s house. I really wanted to sneak you in here tonight.”
And just to make sure you really understand what he means by that, he fixes you with a look that can’t be misinterpreted. His eyes rake up and down your body as he approaches you, his smirk growing when he sees the obvious effect it has on you. He places his hands on your hips and he’s close enough for you to see how dilated his pupils are. He almost looks hungry, like he could just eat you whole, and it makes you weak in the knees. Heat rises to your face when you think about what must be going on in his head, especially since it’s probably not far from the thoughts that have been plaguing you for a while now. Unconsciously, you bring your legs closer together, and the way his eyes dip down then back up to your face with an arch of his brow like he knows what you’re thinking drives you slightly insane.
You don’t realize you’ve been staring at him until he tilts his head at you, an amused expression on his face. “What is it, doll?” he asks, but his tone makes you inclined to think he knows exactly what it is.
You also know, but you don’t know how to put it into words. So, instead, you take a step closer to him and wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in the dip between his neck and shoulder. He smells like chlorine and something that’s entirely his, and you swear you’ve never smelled anything so intoxicating in your life. “Heeseung,” you murmur, voice muffled as your lips move against his skin.
“Yes?” he answers in that same amused, knowing tone. Your clear-mindedness starts to slip away from you as it often does when you’re near him.
When you repeat his name, this time more whiny as you wrap your arms tighter and bury your face deeper, he chuckles softly, a low, deep sound that sends electrifying shivers right down your spine. He places both hands on the sides of your face to make you lean back and look up at him. He can’t help but chuckle again at the pout on your lips, although your slightly hooded eyes make his stomach twist into the familiar tight knot of desire.
“I was gonna take a shower, if you’d like to join me,” he says, a glint of mischief playing in his eyes, and your own widening immediately at his words, or rather at the meaning behind them.
“A shower?!” you whisper-yell back.
He just laughs again and nods. “Mh-hm. We can keep our swimsuits on.” He looks down at you, at your eyes that are still wide, but now more out of anticipation than shock, at the way they seem to search for reassurance in his own. You seem to find what you’re looking for, because you nod.
“We just have to wait until Seeun and Chaeyeong are done, okay? I told Seeun to text me when the bathroom’s free.”
A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips when you nod again. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, then bends down to close the distance between the two of you, just as he’s done many times before, by pressing his lips to yours. He wants to tell you that he’s fine with whatever you want to do; that you can go as fast or as slow as you want; that no matter what, he’ll always be there to hold you and kiss you and call you pretty.
But he’s not the best with words, so he opts for kissing you gently instead, probably the slowest kiss you’ve ever shared, as if he's scared you might suddenly run away from him and he'll lose your warmth.
He’s never been as relieved as when he feels you not only reciprocating the kiss, but deepening it, asking for more when you start to whine into his mouth and slightly claw at his back. It takes everything in him to pull away from you, but there’s more comfortable ways to make out, including ones that don’t involve you bending your neck backwards trying to reach his lips, so he tugs at your hand for you to follow him. “C’mere,” he says, leading you to his bed. He sits on the edge, and, with a smile you can only describe as devilish, pats his lap for you to straddle.
You oblige immediately, of course, and even though you’ve done this many times before, it feels like the backseat of his car and his bed are worlds apart. It feels charged with an intimacy you two haven’t quite shared before, like you’re finally letting go of everything that might’ve been holding you back before and you’re now ready to take a step further together.
At least, that’s how you feel, but if the way he sighs into your mouth as soon as you press your lips to his, and the way his hands roam your back like trying not to leave an inch of your body untouched are anything to go by, then it seems like he feels the same way.
There’s a desperation to the kiss that makes your whole body feel like it’s on fire. Your hands quickly make their way to what seems their favorite place, Heeseung’s hair, and your fingers rake through it, gripping at the strands like you might float into space if you let go of him. His hands slowly make their way down your back until they reach your ass, sneaking underneath your loose shorts to grab at the skin underneath. He brings you closer to him, pressing you down onto his bulge, and it hits such a sweet spot between your thighs that you can’t fight back against the moan that makes its way out of your lips.
Heeseung is quick to shush you, and for some reason, it only makes the fire in your belly burn harder. “Shh, you have to be quiet, doll. Can you do that for me?” He continues to guide your movements against him, rubbing over that spot over and over again. Your forehead falls against his shoulder, and you know you can’t answer him, because if a sound comes out of mouth, it’ll be a moan, and not words.
But Heeseung isn’t happy with that. “Hm? I asked you a question, Y/N.”
What he is happy with is the whimper you let out at his words. “Y-yes, I’ll be quiet,” you breathe out like even saying a few words is too complicated for you.
“That’s a good girl,” he says, and even though you were already a mess before, these are the words that really do you in. With a small whine, you wrap your arms tight around his neck and bury your face where his jawline meets his ear, hoping that any sound coming from your mouth will be muffled there. You know there’s no point trying to kiss him right now; you won’t be able to focus on that and grind on him at the same time.
Truth be told, Heeseung has little to no idea what he’s doing. He’s never gotten this far with anyone before, and now that he’s assumed a more dominant position, since that’s what he’d gathered you’d like from your backseat sessions, he’s scared he might have made this a lot harder for him. He wants to do his best for you and guide you through what he knows are your first sexual or even romantic experiences, but the thing is, this is also the first time for him. It’s the first time he’s had this intense, almost ravaging craving to go further with someone, to touch and be touched and just cherish every single inch of someone’s body.
All he knows about sex, he’s gathered from porn, conversations with his guy friends, and Yunjin’s “spicy” romance novels. He has enough critical thinking skills to know that none of these are a hundred percent reliable sources, but he figured that the novels would be the closest to what women actually like.
He’d been scared sex and everything around it would be the most complicated puzzle he’d have to put together in his life. But in reality, he’s been relieved to find everything has come fairly easily. He just has to pay attention to the things you like; you like it when he takes the lead, so he does; you like it when he compliments you, so he does; you like it when he presses kisses all over your face and neck, so he does. He knows there’s still many things you like that he hasn’t found out about, but he’s more than eager to learn about each and every one of them. Apparently, you really like whatever it is the two of you are doing right now, so much so that he can feel your legs start to shake and can hear you containing your moans, so he keeps on doing it.
As for him? Well, he likes you. His biggest turn-on is seeing you turned on. Seeing your swollen lips and heavy eyelids after a make-out session, hearing your small moans and heavy breathing, feeling you rest your body against his and letting him make you feel good, like you’re doing right now, that’s what gets him going. He’s always so focused on your pleasure that he could almost forget about his own. So, it’s only when you announce through broken moans that you think you’re gonna cum that he realizes he’s dangerously close to finishing too. “That’s okay, baby, cum for me,” he coos, and that’s all you need to come undone.
He really wants to keep it in, really doesn’t want to jizz inside his pants like a highschooler, but it’s to no avail. In his defense, it’s really, really hard not to when you’re holding onto him like your life depends on it and when his name, sounding so pretty on your lips, is the only thing you can say as you cum against him. It’s something right out of a young Heeseung wet dream, and now that present-day Heeseung is actually experiencing it, he can say with pride that this is much better than a dream.
You both take a few seconds to come down from your highs, the first that you’ve shared together. It feels surreal. When you find the strength to lift your head and face Heeseung again, the look on his face is so hot, you think you might cum again from the sight alone. Hair sticking to his forehead, already-plump lips completely red, wet and swollen and curled up into a small smile. You press your foreheads together and laugh for no reason other than you couldn’t get happier than this. Your smile doesn’t leave your lips as you kiss him again. You’re only eighteen, but you don’t think life gets much better than this.
Then Heeseung’s phone dings with a text from Seeun: bathroom’s free. Heeseung looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes that wasn’t there a minute ago. “Wanna go get cleaned up?”
You giggle at his renewed eagerness and nod, letting him take your hand and guide you stealthily to the bathroom he and Seeun share. Thank God for locks.
Once inside, he lets go of your hand and turns on the mirror light rather than the bright, harsh overhead one, giving the room a more comfortable atmosphere. There’s a neck-scratching moment where neither you or Heeseung know what to do, your eyes darting nervously around the room, but it passes by when Heeseung turns around, quickly strips down to his swimming trunks once more and gets into the shower. He has his back next to you when he turns it on and finds his desired temperature, but he leaves the shower door open for you - you know he’s waiting for you to get in with him, but you’re stuck in place as you watch the water fall rapidly down his back and his muscles slightly shift out of relaxation.
You’d seen him half-naked and wet just an hour ago, and it’d already messed with your head, but this was so much worse. Maybe it was the heat slowly rising in the room, maybe it was the fact that you could join him at any moment and get to touch him, whatever it was, it was making it hard to breathe. You practically choke when he turns back around, facing you and smiling when he realizes you haven’t moved an inch.
“You’re not coming?” he asks quietly, and you know you can’t just stand and stare forever - you’ve done too much of that already. Your heart beats like crazy as you pull your sweatshirt over your head, then rid yourself of your shorts, because although he’d already seen you in your swimsuit, it’s nerve-wracking to undress right when you know he’s watching.
His smile hasn’t left his face when you step in and close the shower door, and he’s looking at you so intently that you have to focus on something other than his eyes, so you settle on his collarbones. Everything about him is pretty, you realize.
You suck in a breath when he places one of his hands on your waist, then the other, and makes you get under the water with him. It’s the perfect temperature for you, not too hot that it burns but just enough to make your skin tingle, and you wonder how many more of these small things you have in common.
“Y/N…” he says quietly, just loud enough for you to hear over the sound of the shower. You finally dare to meet his eyes. “Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” he asks with a smile, and just like that, you have to look away again, resting your forehead against his shoulder to hide your flustered expression from him. Receiving a compliment from Heeseung is one thing, being in the shower with him is another; both happening at the same time is too much for you to handle. Somehow cumming in his lap wasn’t enough to rid you completely of your shyness around him. He chuckles at your reaction and wraps an arm around your waist while his other hand caresses up and down your back.
“You have,” you manage to reply even though his touch is close to making your mind go blank.
“Well, let me say it again.” He bends down so that his mouth is right by your ear, lips tickling it when he speaks next. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
His words paired with his low voice make your core throb. You try not to gulp when he stands back up to his full height and smirks down at you - even though it’s impossible that he’s grown any taller in the last hour, it still feels like he towers over you much more than before.
He doesn’t say anything more, your reaction apparently enough to satisfy him, and he reaches behind you for the body wash. He squeezes a dollop of it into his palm, and you think he’ll clean himself up, so you let out a small ‘oh’ of surprise when his hands touch the area above your chest, then start to spread the gel all over your arms, back and stomach. You watch as he lowers himself to lather your legs in the product as well, and you’re not sure why the sight of Heeseung looking up at you from this position makes your heart flutter so much. The illusion is slightly broken, though, when he decides to press a kiss to your stomach but immediately regrets it. “Soap,” he simply says before rinsing his lips with the shower water.
You laugh and shake your head at him. “You’re so cute sometimes, you know that?” you say, the words tumbling out of your mouth naturally, and press your lips to his in a chaste kiss. When you lean back, Heeseung is staring right at you, stunned.
“I’m the one who does that,” he says, a light tone of protest to his voice.
“Does what?”
“Compliments you then kisses you,” he answers with a pout, but it only makes you laugh more.
You wrap your arms around him, pressing yourself flush against him and letting the water fall on top of your bodies. Before you can even comprehend the thought forming in your head at that moment, your lips betray you and words fall out of them against your will. “God, I love you so much.”
In the split second after you’ve said that, the realization hits you and your whole body stiffens. Slowly, your heart threatening to jump out of your chest, you lean back to see Heeseung’s reaction. He looks down at you in a mix of shock and pure, unfiltered happiness, eyebrows raised high but his smile reaches his ears. “You love me, huh?”
“Heeseung, I-”
“Good, because I love you too, Y/N.”
All the dread you felt rushes out of your body and is immediately replaced with relief. In the minute you’d realized you actually loved Heeseung and didn’t just have a big fat crush on him, you had the reassurance that he loved you, too. Life really can’t get any better than this.
Your lips find each other like second nature, but kissing is hard when you’re both so high on your confessions that you can’t stop giggling. You feel your whole body melt for him when he starts peppering kisses all over your face, saying “I love you” in between each peck.
You take his face in your hands to steady his head and kiss him on the lips, a deep, firm kiss that has him wrapping his arms tightly around you and bringing you close to him. It’s like a switch flips inside of him, and all his playfulness transforms into intensity, and suddenly all he can think about is your lips on his and your body against his. You try not to gulp at the feeling of his growing hardness pressed against your stomach. What you’d done on the bed earlier had opened up a whole new world of sensation for the both of you to discover, and you found that you were already craving it again.
There’s not much to be said in a situation like this; you both know what the other is thinking, it’s just a matter of who will act first. Usually, you’d rely on Heeseung to make the first move, or you’d do it yourself if you were feeling impatient; but right now, he seems to be enjoying making you squirm and taking his sweet time, hands roaming your back like he doesn’t know you’re desperate for more.
So you do what you’re usually too shy to do, and ask for what you want directly. “Heeseung, please,” you plead quietly against his lips, eyes shut tight as if in pain.
You can feel the smile that grows on his lips at your words. “Please, what?”
You take a shaky breath in and press wet kisses along his jawline before you answer. “Make me feel good, please.”
“Anything you want, doll.”
You can feel the blood pumping through your veins as you wait for whatever Heeseung will do next, but for some reason, he’s decided not to do anything in a hurry. He slows the kiss down as his fingers trail up and down your sides at snail’s pace, and you have half a mind to just tell him to hurry up already, but there’s something delicious about being on edge like this, desperately waiting for your release.
One of his hands then makes its way to your back, finding the string of your bikini top and playing with it. “Can I take this off?” he asks, voice barely audible over the sound of the water. As soon as you nod, he unties it and pulls the fabric away from your body, letting it drop at his feet and leaving your upper body completely naked for him. Your cheeks blaze under his fascinated eyes, but in that moment, his gaze really does make you feel like the prettiest girl in the world.
His other hand that had patiently rested on your waist makes its way up your front until it reaches your breasts.
You hadn’t even known your nipples were this sensitive until his palm brushes against one of them, making your body jolt of its own accord. Heeseung seems to like that reaction, so he starts playing with it more, twisting it lightly between his fingers, eliciting moans from you (that you try to keep down, still conscious of the fact that anyone in the house might hear you if you were too loud) and making your back arch involuntarily.
As his hand drifts to your other breast to pay your other nipple some well-deserved attention, you decide that Heeseung deserves as much attention as he’s giving you right now. Slowly, almost innocently, your hand snakes its way down his chest and abs to his trunks. You palm him over the fabric, hoping it makes him feel as good as his hand on your breast makes you feel. As his ministrations continue, your breathing gets shallower and shallower, but you’re glad to be having a similar effect on him - he rests his forehead against yours as a breathy moan escapes his lips, and you know you’re not doing as bad a job as you think you might be.
“Y/N,” he breathes out after a minute of this. You hum. “I think my self-control is starting to wear out,” he says, voice shaky as his hand makes its way down your side. His touch burns more than the scorching shower water.
“Good,” you simply reply, and press your lips to his. You can let go is what you’re trying to convey through your kiss as it turns hungrier, needier, more impatient.
Apparently he gets the message, because he’s quick to push you against the shower wall, left hand behind your head and the other holding on tight to your hip. He presses himself against you, letting you know just how much he wants you, and you can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips. This seems to spur him on - so slowly it hurts, his hand makes its way from your hips to the front of your panties. You’ve been waiting for this for so long that you feel like you might come undone right away when he’s barely even touched you.
You let out an involuntary moan when he presses his palm against your clothed sex, but he’s quick to shut you up with a kiss. He continues such ministrations for a bit, unhurriedly rubbing two fingers up and down your core. If he’s going slow so as not to overwhelm you, it doesn't work - you can already feel a familiar knot twisting in your stomach. You can’t even kiss him back anymore, too caught up in the feeling of his hand touching you exactly where you need him, so he settles on kissing your face and your neck.
You swear a little bit of your soul actually leaves your body when he slips his hand underneath your bikini. He trails two fingers up along your slit, watching your face intently in the hopes that your reaction will tell him when he’s found your sensitive spot. You’ve never felt anything other than your own fingers there, and the sensation is breathtaking, especially when he starts rubbing small circles right onto your clit.
“Let me know if it feels good, okay? I’ve never actually done this before,” he admits with a small chuckle. Your eyes shoot open and you grab onto his forearm, making him halt his motions as panic bubbles inside him. “What? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”
“You’ve never done this before?” you echo his words back at him like there’s no way they might be true.
He smiles shyly and looks away, an odd mix of shame and pride at your reaction. “No, I haven’t.”
“Wow,” you breathe out, disbelieving. “You seem to know exactly what you’re doing, this whole time, I thought you were like, a sex expert or something.”
He laughs again and quickly resumes his previous actions, and any surprise you might have felt at his confession is thrown out the window when his fingers move against your clit again. “I promise you I’m making it up as I go.”
“You’re amazing,” you reply.
You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second, Heeseung’s fingers going at the perfect speed and putting the exact right amount of your pressure against you like he’s done this his whole life. “Am I making you feel good?” he asks, a rhetorical question that he has to know the answer to considering your body’s reaction to him, but you still do him the favor of answering.
“You are. Feels so, so good, Hee,” you sigh as his fingers leave your clit and start to tease at your entrance. Heeseung sighs, too, but more out of exasperation than out of pleasure.
“Let’s get rid of this, hm?” he offers, already pulling your swimming bottoms down your legs and discarding them next to your top. “It’ll be easier like this,” he says, and before you know it, he’s pushed a finger inside you, and you let out the loudest moan you have all night at the feeling.
Heeseung chuckles as he shushes you gently. “Quiet, baby, okay? I know it feels good, but we don’t want to wake anyone up, now, do we?”
You shake your head fervently at his words, but in a twisted way, you care more about your current pleasure than about anyone catching you and Heeseung in the middle of the act. He curls his finger inside you, brushing right against that spot that has you seeing stars, and you let your body grow heavy, trusting him to hold you up when your legs stop working. As if one wasn’t enough, he adds a second finger, thrusting them inside you at an increasing pace that has your thighs shaking sooner than you’d like to admit.
“H-heeseung, oh my God,” you murmur, and that’s somehow enough for Heeseung to understand.
“Gonna cum, doll?”
You barely manage to answer him, your second high of the night approaching faster than you expect it to. Fingers still inside you, Heeseung brings his thumb to rub against your clit again, and five seconds later, you’re cumming all over his hands, body shaking against him and holding onto him throughout it all. You try to be as quiet as possible, and Heeseung presses his lips against yours to stifle any sound, but a few whimpers and broken moans still escape your lips.
When he’s slipped his fingers out of you, you hug him tightly, taking a few seconds to regain your breath as you come down from your high. “You did so well, baby,” Heeseung praises, lips moving against your temple before he presses a kiss there, and his words alone make you whine again.
As soon as your sanity has somehow made its way back into your head, you remember your boyfriend’s pleasure and you press your hand against his bulge once more. He lets out a shaky breath as you start to rub your hand up and down his shaft over his swimming trunks. “You don’t have to,” he says quietly, eyes screwed shut in pleasure.
“I want to,” you reassure, dipping your fingers under the waistband of his trunks so he gets the message. When he takes them off, his fully hard dick slaps against his stomach, and even though you haven’t seen a great amount of dicks in your life, you recognize a big dick when you see one.
It’s always the nerdy, lanky ones.
As you take him in your hand, you look up at him with a sheepish smile. “I’ve never done this, so tell me if it feels good, yeah?”
He takes a deep breath as if trying to steady himself, but his eyes stay closed. “It already feels better than anything you could imagine, baby.”
“But I’m not doing anything,” you say, slightly confused.
“Still.”
You chuckle, and Heeseung almost joins in, but any laughter is ripped from his throat as your hand, formed in a fist loosely gripping him, makes its way down his shaft, then back up. It’s a clumsy motion, and he can tell you’re doing this for the first time, but it drives him crazy anyway. The sole fact that it’s you touching him is enough to turn him into a whimpering mess.
He has to keep himself from moaning loudly and waking up the whole house when your palm brushes against his tip, but thankfully, you notice his reaction right away. As you continue jerking him off, you make sure to pay particular attention to his tip, sweeping your thumb over it every time your hand reaches it. Fascinated, you watch the rise and fall of Heeseung’s chest, the clench of his abs, and the way his beautiful pink lips part, and listen intently to any sound that might come out of them. He’s much less chatty than before, and you can’t help but ask for reassurance from him. “Does it feel good, Hee?”
The worried tone in your voice makes his eyes flicker open. “Of course, baby. Feels amazing,” he answers with a breathless chuckle. You beam at him, and the contrast between your innocent, happy expression and the motions of your hand actually makes him see double until he closes his eyes again.
You press yourself closer to him so you can leave kisses all over his neck, paying particular attention to his Adam’s apple that you know is sensitive. You’re so close that you can feel your own hand against your stomach as you fist it up and down his shaft, slowly picking up speed. You bite down against his neck, not hard enough to leave a mark but definitely hard enough to garner a moan from him, and he can feel his orgasm is mere moments away by now.
“Wanna make you feel as good as you made me feel,” you whisper before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Love you so much, Hee,” you say, your voice almost a moan, and that’s what drives him over the edge. Knowing that you love him.
He spills his seed all over your hand and stomach with a choked moan and finds your lips to trap them in a feverish kiss. Just like before, the immediate reaction for the both of you is to laugh; coming down from your high and helping the other reach theirs make you feel like you’re on top of the world. You help rinse each other and you spend another five minutes shampooing the other’s hair to get the chlorine out of it, but after that, you’re out of the shower, realizing that your hands and feet have started pruning after what could have been anything between twenty minutes and two hours in the shower.
No matter how many times you tell him you can do it yourself, Heeseung insists on helping you dry off, making sure there’s not a droplet of water on your body before you head back to his room together, just as stealthily as you’d come earlier. You really hoped the sound of the shower was enough to cover any sound you made and that everyone was sleeping too deeply to realize how much time you’d spent in there anyway.
Heeseung quickly puts on clean underwear before getting into bed, then watches you with a lazy smile as you put your panties, shorts and tank top back on. “What are you staring at?” you grumble because even after everything, his intent stare makes you shy.
“You.”
You should have expected it, but it still makes your heart flutter. You can’t even pretend to be annoyed, not bothering to hide your grin as you get into bed with him, snuggling up to him and sighing in contentment at the feeling of his warmth against you. You’d daydreamed one too many times dreaming about what it must feel like falling asleep next to Heeseung, or even better, in his arms, and it was finally happening. You rest your head against his chest, listening to his calming heartbeat while his fingers rake through your hair in a soothing manner.
“I’m spent,” you murmur against his skin. “I think I’m gonna fall asleep in two seconds.”
“Me too,” he chuckles, then presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep, baby. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
“Okay,” you whisper, nuzzling yourself closer against him and letting sleep wash over your tired body.
--
You wish you could say that you wake up the next morning because of the sunlight pouring on your face or because of Heeseung peppering your face with kisses and awaking you, but really, it’s just your 8 a.m. alarm reminding you you have to go to the market with your mom. The sound jolts you awake, like someone just poured a bucket of cold water over you. You and Heeseung have somehow barely budged from the position you fell asleep in and you want nothing more than to stay there for a couple more hours, but a promise is a promise, so with a sigh, you start to sit up.
When Heeseung feels your body shift away from his, his arm tightens its hold around your waist almost out of its own accord, pulling you back to him. “Just five more minutes,” he pleads, voice slightly whiny and still dripping with sleep that makes butterflies erupt all over your stomach. You give in immediately.
“Just five,” you repeat, and he hums in satisfaction.
But five turns into ten turns into twenty, and when your alarm rings again, it’s already thirty past eight, and you only have fifteen minutes to go home and get ready before your mom will want to leave.
You sigh and, once again, start to pry your limbs away from Heeseung’s, but, once again, he stops you before you can get off the bed, hand coming to grab your wrist gently. You sit up and smile affectionately down at him, brushing away the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes during the night. He blinks his eyes open but can only look at you for a few seconds before he shuts them again, trying to hide his flustered expression under his forearm, but you can still make out his smile and the growing blush on his cheeks.
“What?” you ask quietly in the silence of the room, chuckling at your boyfriend’s cuteness.
“I just remembered last night,” he says, letting his forearm fall away from his face so he can see your reaction.
Your smile grows and you continue to play with his hair as images of last night flood your mind, a sort of fluster enveloping your whole body and making you feel light. You bend over to press soft kisses to his forehead, to his cheek, and then to his lips before burying your face in the crook of his neck. His hand comes up naturally to your back, slipping under the thin fabric to graze his fingernails across your exposed skin.
“Last night was amazing, Hee. Thank you so much,” you whisper, trying not to get carried away by the feeling of his caresses.
“The pleasure’s all mine,” he replies, kissing the top of your head and burying his nose there to inhale the scent of your hair.
You count down from ten, and on zero, you sigh, pushing yourself from Heeseung for good this time. “Okay, I really have to go now.” He sits up with you, fixing you with a pout, but you won’t let him use his cuteness against you and trick you into staying. “I’ll text you when I’m done, okay?”
“Okay. I’ll walk you downstairs.” When he sees you about to protest, he puts on his best smile, akin to one that an athlete would wear after winning first place. “I wanna kiss you goodbye.”
You roll your eyes but your smile makes it obvious how delighted you are that he wants to be with you ‘til the very last second. You gather your stuff and head into the hallway. You know his parents are already at work, and even though Chaeyeong and Seeun usually sleep in until much later than now, you still want to make sure they’re asleep. You gesture at Heeseung to be quiet as you peer inside Seeun’s room quickly and quietly - if they wake up, you can just say you forgot something yesterday and came back to get it quickly, and if they don’t, you’re pretty safe to escape without getting caught.
When they don’t budge an inch, you close her door again and head down the stairs to the entrance where your shoes lay. You check your phone and realize with dread that your mom’s not going to be very happy with you, but you don’t have it in you to push Heeseung away when he insists on helping you into your shoes (they’re slip-ons) and when he wraps his arm around your middle, bringing you in for another kiss. You let yourself melt under his touch - it’s not like thirty seconds will make much of a difference now that you’re already late anyway.
“You do know that if we’re caught kissing here, we’re dead?” you breathe, pulling away slightly from Heeseung to speak. You’re still so close that you feel his lips move against yours as they curl up into a smirk.
“I know, but I wanna risk it.” And just like that, his lips are back on yours, and all other thoughts are blown away like feathers in the wind.
It’s almost dangerous how you can’t think of anything else when you’re this close to Heeseung. How his scent, his warmth, the feel of his skin and his hair under your hands fill your mind up to the brim. It’s dangerous because it’s precisely in moments like these that you should think before you act, before you let yourself be consumed by him. And it’s moments like these that you look back on later and curse yourself for being so foolish.
“Heeseung? Y/N?”
Alarm fills your body as soon as you hear Seeun’s shaky voice calling out your names. She looks down at you from the stairwell, shock evident on her face and her eyes immediately welling up with tears. Your hands let go of Heeseung’s t-shirt and your arms fall limp at your sides, but other than that, you’re frozen in place. You watch as Seeun’s eyes dart between you and Heeseung and as she realizes that you’ve been hiding something big from her; that you even lied straight to her face.
It’s only when a sob escapes her lips and she whips around, heading back upstairs to her room, that you snap out of it. You immediately go to follow her, but Heeseung calls out your name as his hand reaches out to grab your wrist. You look down at where your bodies touch, and your gazes lock just as the sound Seeun’s door slamming shut reverberates through the house.
“I have to talk to her,” you whisper as you wrench your wrist away from Heeseung’s hold.
You walk away and leave him behind.
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#enhypen x reader#heeseung x reader#enhypen smut#heeseung smut#enhypen fluff#heeseung fluff#enhypen scenarios#heeseung scenarios
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Keep Me Ablaze
Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader
—-
a/n: y’all know what happens next chapter 🤭 i hope you all enjoy!!
warnings: near death experience, mentions of blood, swearing, tell me if i missed anything!!
Chapter Thirteen - Change
—-
Death from above, is what Jake says. He calls the three of you “stone cold aerial hunters” and forces the three of you to come out and fly with him, so he can practice shooting in midair.
Not that you and Neytiri mind, of course. You have grown addicted to that feeling of flying, of being free so high in air you know that you will die if you fall.
But you feel your ikran’s breath beneath you, her wingbeats, her surety. She is sure she can deliver the two of you to wherever or nowhere at all. And you trust her.
The wind in your face, and you grip the hand rest of your ikran tighter, let yourself be free, be in the wind. There is nothing to do, not here. There is nothing but freedom and wind. Here, the sound of fire is drowned out.
Jake sees it’s first. Him and Neytiri exchange cries, and you just barely have time to open your eyes and show up when it is like Eywa herself come down.
“Dive!” Jake shouts, and it is fight or flight, basic functions and the need to breathe. You think dive, and your ikran does so, following Jake’s paths as Toruk chases after you. His roars, are louder, deeper. They are not yours, not your ikran’s.
Jake leads you down and down, until the three of you crash through the forest canopy and start to weave through the trees. Toruk is bigger, you think, he cannot fit in the thick jungle. But his roars only grow louder, wingbeats deafening, the sound of his jaws snapping like death.
Neytiri calls another bird cry, and you swear you are bleeding with how tightly you are wrapped around the hand rest, how tight your thighs are.
“Follow me!” Jake shouts, and you follow him blindly, like he is the only fire in the darkness, and slam through a wall of vines.
Toruk roars, wingbeats so loud you think your brain is rattling, when Neytiri hoots again and you follow her, the danger passed, panting heavily.
Your ikran grips onto the vines covering the tree, and you place your hand against her neck, breathing heavily.
“It’s alright, it’s alright,” you whisper, looking over your shoulder. But the forest is still, besides for the sound of three fires, pants and soft screeches of the ikrans.
Finally, Jake breaks the silence by laughing so loudly, so normally. It’s like this is just a normal day for the three of you- spent together, exhilarating and full of something.
“Shut up,” you mumble as Neytiri joins, adjusting the strap of your top. “We almost died!” you say, but everything about them is contagious and you find yourself laughing as well.
Jake regains himself enough to speak, Neytiri’s head still tipped back.
“That,” he pants, “is what’s fun, sweetheart.”
—-
“We call it a Great Leonopteryx,” Jake says, fingers tracing over the sharp teeth of the ikran skull.
“It is Toruk,” Neytiri says, like she is correcting him. And you cannot help but feel that she is. That their way is the way of doing things. “Last Shadow.”
“Yeah, right. It’s the last one you ever see,” Jake sneers. He steps forward, coming face to face, staring down the skull like it is the jaws of death.
It is the biggest skull of any animal you had ever seen. You cannot imagine how much bigger it would be in your human form.
“My grandfather’s grandfather was Toruk Macto. Rider of Last Shadow,” Neytiri says, fondly, proudly.
“He rode this?” Jake asks as Neytiri crouches next to you, staring up at him and the skull.
“Toruk chose him. It has only happened five times since the time of the First Songs.”
“That’s a long time,” Jake notes, as you smile and sit next to Neytiri. You feel only like a house fire. Not the biggest, not the worst. You are just there.
“Yes. Toruk Makto was mighty. He brought the clans together in a time of great sorrow. All Na’vi people know the story.”
“I remember you telling me,” you say, grabbing Neytiri’s hand.
She hums, strokes the back of your hand with her thumb. “I remember telling you.”
—-
“Jake,” you whine, pushing the plastic cage off of your chest. He always falls asleep before you, and it’s become routine to call for him like this, maybe sure he is there, waiting for you.
“What?” he says, and you can hear the smile in her voice, the wheels of his wheelchair squeaking against the linoleum floor. “I’m not carrying you, you big baby.”
You snort, turning your head to to the side, only to find him parked in front of you. Watching you. “You couldn’t handle it. I’d probably crush you, weakling.”
He only smiles, and you return it, because it’s so normal to do that.
“In this body,” he says, almost like he will carry you- just not like this.
—-
You watch Jake go through the movements of human life, shaving his face, brushing his teeth. The two of you aren’t living like this- you are just getting through the part of your lives until you can get to the part that feels real.
Him and Trudy left early this morning, flying off to the main base. It was weird, having him away from you. It felt weird to go into your Avatar body and know he wouldn’t be waiting for you when you came back.
But Neytiri was waiting for you. Neytiri was there now. And the more and more you think about it, the more it ignites a fire in you. So hot it burns blue. So bright it swallows each speck darkness.
That is how you feel about both of them, like the wavering of a flame, you will always come back to that first place.
You will always come back to them, really.
—-
Her fingers have trailed over your body a thousand times, but it feels different this time. There is a thrum in the air, like at any second it all will burst and the air will light on fire.
You try not to shiver when she touches you, the cool white paste she traces over your chest and arms, back and neck. Finally, she brings it up to your face, circling around your eyes, until all that is left is your lips.
Two fingers, so light, like a feathers touch. Reserved, in a way, like she is holding back. You wish she would touch you how she wants to. You wish she would touch you like a warrior.
She traces them from your cupids bow, down your lips, to your chin.
Then, you watch as she does the same to Jake, movements just as methodical. She touches you like she loves you. She touches him like she touches you. What does that love even mean anymore?
There is something, everywhere all at once, something around the three of you. A circle of fire, a ring of flame, something that is connecting the three of you in a way that is beyond your understanding.
All you know is that it feels good to burn with them.
—-
“You are now a daughter of the Omaticaya.”
Eytukan’s words are like a weight lifted off of your shoulders. You have poured three months of your life into this, and to see it pay off is satisfying.
“You are now a son of the Omaticaya. You are apart of The People.”
It feels so special, so sacred, and you are burning and burning and it hurts so good.
Your back presses against Jake, warm and grounding, and you sink against him when Eytukan presses a hand to each of your shoulders. You shiver when he grabs your hand, when Neytiri places a hand on your stomach.
And suddenly you are smiling so wide, like there is an excess of happiness in your body and you simply have to get rid of it.
Then, more hands, and hands upon them, until it is a circle with you in the middle. It is like you are the fire, and everyone has gathered around for your light and warmth.
But all you care about is how good it feels to burn with them. How much more it can be. How much more you want it to be.
—-
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Blanket Thief
So I decided to do something different today, and I found a prompt for this particular writing practice. And, thank you@starrrgazingbunny for giving me a list of clones to write for.
Pairing: Alpha-17 x Reader
Word Count: 1035
Songs: None
Warnings: None
Prompt: "I wondered why I was freezing, turns out you stole the whole blanket."
The War was supposed to be over. ‘Supposed’ being the keyword in that sentence. It wasn’t, of course. You are clever enough to know that the death of Palpatine isn’t going to really change anything.
And you are smart enough to recognize that this war was probably going to happen even if Palpatine hadn’t been pulling the strings in the background.
You roll over in your bed, pulling your fleece blanket up tighter around your neck. You had come to Kamino several years ago, at the bequest of your uncle.
“Come on, kid.” He had said at the time, “It’ll be good experience for your career. And you’ll be well paid.”
So you came to Kamino. Following those sweet, sweet credits that you were promised.
And now here you are, several years later, still on Kamino, still getting paid a lot of money…though now you remain because Master Shaak Ti made the request that you stay to help with the de-chipping and the gene therapy for the cadets…well, and the adult clones.
Of course, you’re pretty sure she made the request that you remain because you’re one of a handful of people that Alpha-17 actually trusts with the Cadets. The other people being your fellow natborn medics.
You bury yourself deeper into your blankets as your mind drifts to Alpha-17. One of the oldest clones, a trainer for the cadets, and the most stubborn and bullheaded man you’ve ever had the pleasure, or displeasure, of meeting.
He towers over everyone, and is the most dangerous person on Kamino.
He drives you completely insane, challenging your expertise on a daily basis, butting heads with you over the way you taught the medic bound cadets. And you challenge him back, having full blown fights in the hallways over how the cadets are, or had been, treated.
Jango used to tell you that there’s no point in fighting with Alpha-17, that he was just a human looking droid. He stopped saying that the first time you verbally eviscerated him for having the gall to compare Alpha-17 to a droid.
The night was the first night, of many, that Alpha-17 made himself at home in your room. And your bed.
You had earned his respect with your desire to protect the cadets. And you had earned his affection with your desire to protect him.
At this point in time, Alpha-17 is living with you. Much to the amusement of the cadets in your care. And the vod’e who couldn’t help but make suggestive comments to you when Alpha-17 isn’t within earshot. They think it’s hilarious that Alpha can’t help but leave marks where everyone will see them.
But it’s late, and so is he. Stuck doing paperwork for the tubies who will have normal childhoods, unlike the rest of their vod’e.
You grumble under your breath, and eye the empty space next to you. It’s fine, you suppose. You can sleep without him, it is just so much colder when he’s not in bed with you.
Frustrated, you roll over to his side of the bed and bury your face in his pillow, and try to fall asleep.
It must have worked, because the next thing you know, you’re being moved back to the cold side of the bed, your side of the bed, and the blanket is getting adjusted around you. “Mm…Alpha?”
“Go back to sleep, cyar’ika.” His voice is low, more of a rumble that you feel than words you can hear. You feel the bed dip and you instinctively bury yourself against his side. You feel him shift, and his arm drapes securely around your waist, and you release a happy sigh as you press your face against his chest.
You swiftly drift back to sleep, secure with the knowledge that you’re safe because Alpha is with you.
The next time you wake up, it’s because Alpha is prodding you awake, “Cyar’ika, wake up.”
You whine and bury your face into your pillow, “Go ‘way. ‘s early.”
You hear him laugh quietly, “Absolutely not. Wake up, cyare.”
You huff and turn your head to squint at the chrono next to the bed, “Why? It’s…5 am? Alpha…” You whine.
“Don’t you ‘Alpha’ me,” He smooths his hand across your head, “I woke up freezing,”
You turn and squint at him, finally noticing that he’s not covered in a blanket, “Well, maybe you wouldn’t be cold if you were using a blanket.” You snark.
He raises a single brow, and he reaches over to lightly tug the blanket you’ve cocooned yourself in, “I wondered why I was freezing, and then I realized that you stole the whole blanket.”
You look down at your cocoon, and then blink up at him, “...sorry.”
He shook his head, and a laugh fell from his lips, “Don’t worry about it, cyar’ika. It’s time for me to get up anyway.” Surprisingly nimble fingers untuck the blanket from under you, and then effortlessly untangle you from your cocoon, and he smirks as he smoothly ripped the blanket off of you.
You weakly gripped the hem of the blanket as you release a noise of unhappiness, but he is strong enough to just tug it out of your grip and throw it at the end of the bed. “Alpha! It’s cold!”
“Hm. I can fix that,” Alpha says with a slow smirk.
You squeak as he rolls over you, effortlessly pinning your hands over your head with one hand, and his other hand dips under your loose tank top, tracing random shapes against the bare skin over your ribs. “I thought you said you needed to get ready for the day?” You ask, a small grin playing on your lips.
He glances at the chrono, and then leans down and bumps his forehead against yours, his eyes locked on your lips, “I have 90 minutes. I bet I can warm you up in that time.”
You squeak, and giggle, as he crashes his lips against yours, silently demanding that you submit to him.
Coincidentally, you’re both late for work that morning. And, when you finally show your face, you have several new marks on your neck that your uniform isn’t quite high enough to cover.
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Family, no matter where what
Summary: Gwen has a sibling with the same powers. With a strong bond, you both find out about the multiverse, and it may just be the thing that breaks you.
Spoilers for both films!
Gwen's father finds you just near the end of his shift, someone had called in hearing some bangs coming from an alleyway.
All he finds instead, is a kid. Alone, scared, maybe amnesia. A single band on their wrist.
"Hey, kid. Hey, hey," he says, hands raised as you back away from him. He sees how you then look around, as if sensing something else. He just takes it as you being scared and adjusting as best you can to this new situation.
"It's ok, it's ok," he assures you. You approach him a bit, seemingly trusting him a but more now that he respected your space, "do you have anywhere to go?" You shake your head, "any parents?" Again, a head shake, "a name?" You think, then, seemingly frustrated with yourself, you shake your head 'no' for a third time.
He can't just leave you here, and god knows he knows how cruel orphanage places CAN be sometimes, so he takes you home.
Gwen comes to greet him, but she seems to know something is wrong on instinct, "who's this, dad?" She asks, looking at you with soft eyes, and not mistrust.
"Gwen…" he says, stepping aside to let her see you, "this, uh, well they don't really have a name," he says, scratching his neck.
"Oh," she says, scratching her neck as well, looking at you with sympathy. You smile a bit, before your eyes go back to the floor again.
"Would you be able to, I don't know, help them set up a bit, please?"
"Of course," she says, instantly going back to being more preppy, "come on, kid!" She holds out a hand for you, and waits until you're ready. You then take it, and she takes you to her room. You take it all in.
You point to her trans flag and look to her, head tilting a bit, "oh, that. Yeah, still people out there who think people who are different is wrong. I don't think so. I think being different makes you cool; unique." Her outlook on things makes you smile. You're technically different. You nod. She nods too with a smile, glad to have helped you feel at ease.
A siren goes off, you both look to the window. She looks back to you, and sees waves above your head. They just stand out to her.
"Oh, my god…" She says softly. You jolt at the police radio, and in an instinct your hand is held put.
Web comes out.
"You're like me," She says, finishing her now confirmed thoughts.
You look at her in fear, as if you've done something wrong.
"No, no, no," she says quickly, waving her hands in front of her, "It's ok. It's ok, I promise!" She assures you.
She puts her finger to her lips, and gestures for you to follow her. You do, and she unlocks her drum. In it, is an outfit.
She then holds her hand out in a position similarly to yours, and Web comes out.
You look to her with wide eyes. She chuckles, but it has a hint of relief to it, "you'll be ok, kid, " she assures, "I'll help you."
She does. She's patient with you. Kind. Loyal. At school and with this whole thing. She tells you about the gifts you have. Helps you control them, but makes you promise not to tell Captain Stacey. You swear.
He, meanwhile, sees how you both are with each other. You bring out a warmer side to her; she brings out your more curious and open side.
On the year anniversary of you being found, they adopt you.
Gwen had always been jealous of people having siblings, and now that wish has been granted.
You make a good team - she helps you with a suit. You can read each other like a book.
She tries to help you with your band, as it seems to adapt to the growth of body mass and age, but neither of you find anything other than it just seemingly a normal band.
Then you meet Miles and a group of other Spiderlike people. Peter assures you that while having two Spiderpeople in one universe is rare, he is sure that there must be others where that is true.
It's fun, and nice, to have other people to trust as well. People who understand.
It helps you both forget about your best friend dying. Miles becomes that to you both. You haven't healed, but you're trying to now.
But then it's over, and you're both together, but also alone, again.
Stoll though, you have each other, that's something.
But then your father finds out, and you both unmask in front of him. And, as much as he doesn't want to, he attempts to arrest you both. Gwen begs for him not to do it, but puts herself in front of you just in case it goes sideways.
The other two spider people you met when subduing Vulture appear, saving you. They both give you a chance. A second chance to be understood, to be with people like you.
You both look at each other, and nod. You take the trip to the hub of other spider people.
Miguel is distant to you moreso than Gwen, but you just put that up to how you've always been. You have always been one who could easily slip into the shadows; that, and you didn't talk much. But, still, you don't let it get to you, as you're among an almost Spider-family.
Gwen had never seen you be so happy, making new friends. She's happy for you. And you both adapt to this way of living while on missions.
Gwen offers to ask Miguel about your band, and does so when you're away on a mission. When you return, she hugs you, glad you're safe, but gives you the bad news of there being nothing new to learn. Just a regular old band.
You are saddened, but accept the news. Your hand goes over the band, and a sort of light seems to come from it; but when you remove your hand, it's like it never happened. You just put it up to lighting or something from this place.
You both go and visit Miles, and you love being with your best friend again. Don't get yourself wrong, the Spidercrew are great, but the three of you made a good trio. You were helping each other grow and heal.
That, and you made him feel less alone with the secret of being Spiderman.
The two of you are told to leave him, to never return, because of the damage the Anomaly has done. It hurts you, but your sense goes off for some reason. You look to Gwen, herself isn't going off, just yours.
"Y/N," she says to you, "I'll meet you there, ok?" You find it odd of her asking you to go first, but she just gives you one of her 'trust me' smiles. You give her a small one back, give seemingly one more goodbye to your best friend, before going through the portal.
Miles, however, hears the rest of the conversation. It's one of the reasons why he goes through.
During the chase, when Gwen falls due to being distracted, Miles tells you to stay on The Spot's trail. Despite the annoyance at not being able to help Gwen, you trust Miles, and so listen to him.
Your friend Hobie, respects your lack of talking. Tells you it's good as it's what makes you with everything going on, but also that actions always speak louder than words.
Gwen had told you about cannon events, how there was order to things. Things had to go a certain way, and your job was to keep it all in order. But you do respect Miles trying to save Pavitr the pain of loss.
Miles succeeds, but you then see the damage it causes.
Hobie says your name, seemingly spotting (ha) something you don't. But you hear Gwen reprimand him, saying that's a subject for 'later'.
You pretend you don't hear it; pretend their words got lost over the noise of everything.
The rest of the Spidercrew, and this is the first proper time Miguel spoke to you; other than telling you about a mission or during a debrief, or ordering you to get patched up. You've never seen him this angry.
He looks at you with so much anger, "and you," he seethe, even pushing you a bit, "why didn't you stop him?"
"Miguel, enough," Gwen argues. Her defensive side coming out to play.
He just dismisses her, face inches from yours. But, you do hold his gaze, "you gonna give me an answer?"
"Miguel, mate," Hobie tries.
"Enough out of you," he snaps, eyes still on you.
"My job. Saving people," you say, knocking your head against his. Hobie whistles in respect.
Peter tries to intervene again, but is met by silence.
Finally, Miguel pulls back. Gwen approaches you, putting a hand on your shoulder. She squeezes it.
Miguel then shows the massive webs of the Spiderverse (you agree with Miles' name for it. Goes with the theme you all play by after all).
You had never actually seen it before, and look around it in awe. You see Gwen and yours timelines.
Scratch that, you realise. Gwen's. You're not there.
You look at her, she looks away.
"Where's mine? Where am I in this?" You ask her in a quiet voice.
She doesn't answer.
"Here," Miguel says, voice cold, but not as angry this time. There's almost, ALMOST, a sense of sadness to it? You aren't sure.
He puts a hand on your back, turning you to a strand high above. He holds out his hand, and it comes down.
"Go ahead, kid," he says, not unkindly, "take a look."
You hold out your hand that has the bracelet on it. Those lights come back again, but you see them this time. The image of the innocent bracelet flickers away for a moment, and there, on your arm, is the bracelet that Gwen wears. Or, a version of it, at least.
Your eyes are wide, heart thumping on your chest. You always wondered why you didn't need one, people had plenty of theories to put you at ease, even your friends.
You then look to the circle, an unknown Spiderperson is there, holding someone.
You.
"Who - who are they?"
"A rogue. Went back and changed events." Miguel says, simply, before turning back to Miles and his protests about this fate thing.
He's locked down, you aren't. You look to Gwen, who looks down. You look to Hobie, he looks at eyes with a mix of things (guilt, relief, anger, sadness) but then subtly moves his head to the exit. He then nods to Miles. You know what he's saying.
So, as soon as Miles realises what he's done, break out, you both do what Hobie suggested. You run.
You both seem to know which way to go to split up the seemingly endless Spiderpeople chasing you. Despite Gwen going for Miles, she sees you leading your own pack too. She's scared for both of you, but the mission. Part of her says fuck the mission; but another part says to see it through, it will all work out in the long run.
It won't. She knows that. She knows it'll only hurt you both.
You and Miles are both saved by Peter, who tries to get you both to understand. You thought you'd found another father figure, one who understands all this. He's genuine with his words, but you dont know who to trust anymore.
"Y/N…" Miles stops himself, unsure of what to actually say to you.
"Your dad," is all you say to him, "we can save him. We just need to get you to the machine."
Miles nods, glad you're on his side, but he clocks how you don't say 'we'.
"What about you?"
"I will distract them."
"That's suicide!"/"Kid, no!" Are the protests from the pair.
No time to argue, the other spiders are here. Peter swears he didn't bring you both here to trap you. Part of you believes him.
"Too late," you say to your friend, before you both plummet through the inner workings of this place.
You both make it to the train, making sure Miles is ahead of you. A Web then catches your foot, and Miguel leaps, slamming you into the train, spit flying from his mouth as he tells you, "I'll deal with you, later!" As he then goes after Miles.
"Y/N!" Gwen shouts. You find some strength in you, continuing to crawl towards Miguel and Miles, "Y/N, stop! Please!" You can hear your sister friend Spiderperson call out to you.
You ignore her, and instead keep going towards the one person you can trust. He gets himself out of his rut, but as he swings away, he first a Web to you. You grab on, and follow him.
You get to the machine. You place some, what toMiles looks like, mines.
"What are those?" He asks, getting the number he needs to go back home.
You hit a button, and it fires out a bunch of webs, creating a shield.
Miles leaps into the machine. It starts up. You hear tearing at the Web, it's Miguel. You put more and more down. He keeps tearing through them.
"Anomalies working together! Of course!" He shouts, tearing through and more of your barriers.
Miles disappears. Then you set yourself up, and leap into it. You feel a hand grab your leg and a yell of 'no!' Before you hit the floor.
"I'm sorry, kid," Miguel says, before holding up his hand. You close your eyes, but if never comes. Opening your eyes, you see his hand being held back. Then another Web on his other hand. It gives you what you need, and you get into the machine.
Looking back at them, you see it's Gwen who did it. She gives a nod. You don't give one back.
Time to get some answers from your home.
Gwen knows you'll write your own story with the answers you find. But, she's been writing hers all along, she realises. You dropped into her universe, and gave her a friend. Gave her a sibling. Gave her someone who understands. Someone who fought by her side. Someone to always have her back.
She didn't always have yours, but she'll do so, starting from now. From this. By letting you go, and trusting you'll be ok.
Sure, she's thrown back to her world. But, it allows her and her dad to talk. It gives her the resolve she needs. She'll save Miles with your Spiderfamily, then she'll find you.
She promises. Swears on her life.
This is one she's not breaking.
#across the spiderverse imagine#atsv imagines#astv x reader#spider gwen imagine#spider gwen x reader#x sibling!reader#platonic imagine
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Can you please tell me what this new character you really like is about ? He's your next fictional crush...
Also...Do you have any Lestrange daughter headcanons where she befriends the trio. I think this idea is very Mary Sue, but...I think if one adjusts that let's say her conception is : "Rodolphus Lestrange willingly drank love potion per orders of Voldemort" What are your ideas to make it work ?
Ofc!
Okay, first, I apologize for the "no" response? I was just in the middle of an argument and it kinda happened. Tbh I didn't think it's weird/uncomfortable at all and you can ask me abt all subjects basically.
I don't think it's Mary Sue-ish at all to make the Lestranges have a kid. A lot of characters in hp who shouldn't/wouldn't have children do have them since JKR is a mother and it's a big part of her life and her books, so it wouldn't be a stretch to see Bellatrix give birth as well. I personally think they could have a child without love potions as loveless marriages often do, maybe Bella was infertile and didn't pursue treatment or just got an abortion in canon. If she had a daughter she'd be likely to just give her over to some nanny and barely care for her. I saw your post about Rudolph... why is it that at any time I think a man is even a little hot he gets accused of the most heinous shit ever. He might fancy the dead tho, I mean the purebloods are perverse enough for that and they prob think it's more fine than doing it with a muggle. It made me laugh.
The girl meeting the trio would be interesting, because Harry and Hermione wouldn't even know much about her parents until they're 15 and wouldn't judge her by her roots anyway, but my GOD Ron would fucking spit on her. I think it would be cool if she was in ravenclaw since it would highlight how much she isolates herself. She might go to some adoption system or maybe to the Tonks family?... so she'd be pretty normal. I think dumbledore would persuade someone into adopting her lol. She'd have an interesting relationship with Neville I think. About her personality, she'd be very hotheaded but analytical (a choleric and thinker temperament?), also very strong willed which can make her stubborn. She could be curious and feel a pull towards dark shit and have a whole luke skywalker arc of being afraid of being like her family. Which can be a realistic concern since mental illnesses are often genetic, so she would struggle with that. She would try to be a good person but wouldn't be a great friend and would self isolate a lot, very introverted. A bit machiavellian lmao. Definitely wouldn't share any secrets about herself. Hard time relaying on someone if anyone but the Tonks were the ones to raise her, so some trust issues. But she tries her best.
About that guy... he is James March from American horror story hotel and he's basically a ghost. He was a serial killer in the 20s, built a whole hotel to kill people in and torture them in their last moments n then easily dispose of all evidence. Isn't he just so dreamy? Also a design and engineering genius, a hunter, a gentleman (it's a facade he's a psychopath), has a sexy accent and drinks absinthe. His every MOVEMENT is hot and I'd literally get on my knees for him. Though he might have necro tendencies... that's why I giggled at the Rodolphus post. But James definitely prefers normal sex lmao he had a sex scene with Lady Gaga. He had a traumatic childhood (said his father was awful, has scars on his back...). It's a speculation, but since most of the more evil serial killers were victims of sexual abuse... yikes. But he's fictional so I can like him despite all of that. Or maybe for it? I often fall for fictional killers and/or torturers lol. He's also just charming, like so so charming it's unreal... I also really admire the actor's (Evan Peters) dedication to the character as he did most of the work in characterization.
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summoned (pt. 3)
hey guys! hope you're all doing well :) time feels like it's just slipping away a bit right now. my goal is to finish posting this in the next two weeks. xx
pairing: woozi x fem!reader/fem!OC
w.c. 2.5k
part 1 | part 2
“Human.”
Jihoon stands at her bedside. It’s nearing 11 AM and she’s still sleeping peacefully.
“Human.”
She still doesn’t wake.
“Human.”
She jolts upright, looking around before her eyes settle on him. “What’s going on?” With unseeing eyes, she pats the bedside table for her glasses.
Once they’re on her face, she squints at him. “What is happening?”
Seems the human is awake now.
“Don’t you have work to be going to?”
Her suspicion turns to disbelief. “You woke me because I’m going to be late for a 9-to-5 I don’t have?”
“You have meetings and a home and you don’t have a job?”
“I have a job. Just not one with a set schedule, Mr. Demon. I’m self-employed.”
That just sounds like she’s made up her job.
While checking her phone, she pushes her glasses to rub sleep from her eyes. He wonders why she continues scrolling as she does this.
When Jihoon doesn’t leave, she eases around him to get to the ensuite, phone still in hand, other hand adjusting her glasses.
Jihoon trails after her, halting when she holds a hand up in his face. Then she shuts the door. Unbothered, he leans against the doorframe, his eyes focused on the wood grain.
“I’m not going to pee until I know you’re in the living room. We can discuss whatever you need to discuss later.”
Despite now being bothered, he complies with the request. Unfortunately, the next portion of his plan requires her help. Jihoon stares at the pile of books he’d gone through over the last few hours since sunrise. When she doesn’t emerge right away, he puts the books away. She has a few books she’s never read before, and while some seemed immature and too romantic for his taste, some of the mystery ones were alright.
All of them kept him wildly entertained until he woke her.
She appears in the doorway dressed in a soft yellow dress, no longer donning glasses and her hair brushed.
“Now, what was so urgent that you needed to wake me…” she stops in her hallway and stares at her door, “... up?” She tilts her head, squinting at her doorway. “Why is my door wide open?”
Jihoon moves to her side to admire his handiwork. “Don’t worry. No one can see inside.”
“But it’s open.”
“No one even knows your door is there.”
“I specifically asked you to take the key if you were going to leave and close my door. Not fuck around with it and make it–why can’t people see inside?”
Jihoon motions for her to follow. At her doorway, she stops. He stands across from her in her hallway.
“How do I know this isn’t some soul sucking exercise?”
Jihoon sighs. “As I told you yesterday, I will only take your soul if you exchange it.”
More squinting. She’s extremely suspicious this morning. “How do I know this isn’t some pain inducing exercise that will force me to want to give you my soul to make the pain stop?”
Impressed at the suggestion, Jihoon crosses his arms. “Are you sure you aren’t a demon? That is a wonderful idea.” He deflates a little. “Unfortunately, I didn’t think of it. You’re just going to have to trust me.”
“You’re a demon. Here because I summoned you and won’t trade my soul for anything. I don’t trust you.” She goes to the kitchen. “Just change my door back to normal, please.”
Annoyed that she won’t appreciate his skill, Jihoon undoes the securities he’d put around her apartment. When he steps back inside, she’s pouring milk over her cereal.
She doesn’t offer him breakfast.
“How do you know I undid everything properly and didn’t actually create that soul sucking door?”
“A feeling.”
Odd answer. “What kind of feeling?”
She glances over at him; the spoon slips out of her mouth. “Just a feeling.” When she sits at the table, her eyes dart to the empty chair across from her, an invitation to join her. “Now, I’m assuming you woke me up because you needed something. Besides my soul, because I’m not giving you that.”
Jihoon suspects that this human is manipulating him, but he can’t work out how she’s doing it. Or why. So, he sits. “Before we discuss, can you do one thing?”
“Which would be?” She continues munching.
“Give me your hand.”
“We agreed no touching.”
“Only this once and I’m asking your permission.”
She’s still hesitant to comply.
Jihoon holds his hand out across the table, palm up. “I just need to check something.”
Her right hand drops into his as she continues eating. She winces at the warmth, but he closes his eyes.
If there was a demon possessing her, he would have known. He was hoping that her passing through the door would exorcise her just in case. And they wouldn’t have to do this. When he pulses a burning heat through her hand, she jolts back in surprise, a curse on her lips.
Her spoon clatters into the bowl. Immediately, she’s up and running cold water over her hand. “What a reminder that I’m an idiot.” Blisters are forming on her palm. On her drawing hand.
“So… now that it seems you’ve decommissioned me for a while,” Jihoon can hear the loud unspoken curse word she puts there, “what the hell do you want?”
Jihoon turns his body her way, unbothered by her change in tone. “I need a human to do some of my bidding for me.”
“That is the worst idea ever. And you’ve reminded me not to do anything you ask.”
“You haven’t even heard what I’m going to ask of you yet.”
“Whatever it is, I’ll probably be possessed or murdered. Or both. You also ruined my drawing hand.”
“I was checking to see if you were already possessed.”
Frustrated, she finishes her breakfast before returning to her seat. With food, and because she’s usually reasonable, she’s prepared to at least listen. “Explain better.”
Jihoon explains what had happened the night before, excluding his discussion with Seokmin. While he talks, she bandages her hand. He’s mildly impressed at how prepared she seems to be, even having gauze in her kitchen drawers to wrap her hand.
“Are you even listening to me?” Jihoon asks.
She frowns as she tucks the end of the gauze in. “What makes you think that I’m not?”
“Your reaction seems too calm for what I’m telling you.”
She looks him directly in the eye. “You’re telling me that some humans could be possessed by demons and turning the energy of the planet dark. The angels thought the demons were rallying to take over Earth, so they’ve started preparing to bring about the End Days.” Her eyes skim over him. “You appear to be a pretty neutral demon who would be content living on Earth if he could.” She lifts her eyebrows. “That’s the gist, isn’t it?”
Jihoon had noticed that she wanted to say more, but she was reading more into him than he liked. “And you’re not freaked out by it?”
She shrugs. “Disappointed, maybe? That the angels are actually just as set on ruining humankind as demons are. But freaked out? No.” It seems Jihoon needs her to further explain her reaction. “I have a literal demon sitting in my kitchen. One who refuses to leave me alone even though I told you that I am not willing to hand my soul over. And I now realize that possession is taking over my soul without my permission.” A small smile cracks her face. “So, you have the means to take my soul but don’t.” She waves her hand dismissively at his continuous staring. “I have a best friend who believes that aliens are real. This is typical Saturday dinner conversation.”
“Except I’m not talking about imaginary aliens.”
“What? Demons don’t believe in science?”
Jihoon shakes his head in confusion.
“It is statistically impossible that humans are the only living life forms in the universe. Plus, how can you not believe in aliens when you exist?”
“I’m real.”
“What? Angels and demons aren’t told whether aliens exist?”
“Do you get this nonsense from that friend of yours?”
“Insult Hansol one more time and I won’t help you.”
Jihoon’s retort is on his tongue but then hears her words. “You’re going to help me.”
“I’m decommissioned, thanks to you.” She waves her bandaged hand between them. “I gotta fill my time somehow.”
“You are not telling that human anything,” Jihoon argues on their way to meet Hansol at a café.
Jihoon insisted on coming along and she had countered that he could just stay home or go do something else.
“I can’t.” He looked as if he was trying not to sigh. “I have to go with you.”
Something about how being summoned required him to be around her at all times except for in the dead of night. It was why he was able to leave, but had woken her up at 11 AM. As well as needing her help, he’d been getting bored.
“What ridiculous rules,” she scoffed. “Then I’m telling Hansol what you are, because I don’t need him spreading rumours that I have a boyfriend and refuse to tell him about it.”
‘Who cares if he tells your friends a harmless lie?”
“My nosy friends are harmless but annoying. So, Hansol has to know.”
“I’m going to have to exorcise him first.”
“Hansol’s not possessed.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know my friend.”
“Surprisingly, I don’t trust you just as much as you don’t trust me.”
“I think I’m the one in control here, Demon. I’m pretty sure there are other souls for you to take.”
“You only think you’re in control, human.” Jihoon flags another demon across the street. The woman glances at him, nods her head, but doesn’t stop. “I think I have significantly more power.”
“You say this and yet you’re here with a soul you refuse to take.”
“If you really need to share it with other humans who you think will believe you, I require that they be exorcised first.” He holds his hands up to stop her protest. “For your safety and mine.”
There’s suspicion on her face. Which Jihoon understands. But he needs to maintain some semblance of control. For some reason, the human is right; she has an odd amount of power in this situation.
Hansol is sat in the back corner of the café, which Jihoon recognizes must be their favourite spot. He just senses it when he sees her face light up. That could also be from seeing Hansol and the smell of food, but Jihoon doesn’t think so.
They have to weave through chairs and tables to reach him. As she drops her bag onto the floor, she says, “Sol, hold out your left hand.”
Hansol’s brow furrows, but he does as directed. “Why?” The furrow turns to a full-on frown as Jihoon grabs his hand. When their hands flame red, Hansol jumps back.
With a sigh, she pulls Hansol to the café bathroom.
“What the actual fuck was that?” Hansol demands. He stares at his blistering skin. “What did he do to me? What did you do to me?”
She turns the faucet to cold. Then, she shoves his hand under the water while simultaneously explaining the truth about Jihoon.
Hansol blinks at the onslaught of information. He decides to compartmentalize it and process it later. “And my hand?”
She realizes she doesn’t have any clean bandages to wrap his hand in. “He insisted that he exorcise every human I tell.”
Hansol doesn’t even bother to process that information. He nods. “Makes sense.”
She holds up her right bandaged hand. “And he recruited me to do something for him.”
“And wrecked your drawing hand.”
“Hence why I told you to hold out your left.”
“That also makes sense.”
She pats her pockets for her wallet. “Just gonna run next door to get you actual bandages. Stay here.”
Hansol salutes her and she hurries towards the door. Then she feels an uncomfortable pull above her belly button. She looks down at her waist and then feels something over her shoulder.
Jihoon is there.
With an exasperated look on his face.
“I told you that I can’t leave your side except for in the dead night.”
“Did you do that?”
“No, the summoning that you did did that,” he huffs.
She looks around him at their now unmanned table. “What about Hansol’s things?”
“No one is going to steal anything.”
“How do you know?”
“You can tell whether I’ve rectified your door, yet you can’t tell that the humans here aren’t going to steal your stuff?” This human is a pain in his demon derrière.
“I told you that was a feeling. I don’t get a feeling for humans. They’re complicated and temporary.”
Jihoon doesn’t have time to unpack that sentence. “So, what do you expect me to do?”
Now, they’re blocking foot traffic at the door, and she seems uninclined to move. Jihoon sighs. He tosses a hand back in the direction of the table and she watches him do it. Satisfied, she leads them out the door.
“How do you actually know? You can’t keep telling me it’s ‘just a feeling’.”
“And you can’t keep assuming it’s because I’m possessed. You’ve already done some magic voodoo on me.” The convenience store next door has the bandages she needs and a small washcloth. While Jihoon returns to the table, she pushes back through the washroom door.
Hansol tucks his phone away when she enters. His fingers are turning red, because the water is so cold.
Of course he would follow her directions to a T.
She quickly shuts off the water and uses the washcloth to dab at his blistered hand before wrapping it. “There we go. Now, we match.”
“So many other ways we could be matching besides burned hands by the devil,” Hansol points out.
“Just a demon actually. Not the Devil. And if we could match any other way besides this today, I would have taken it.” She realizes that maybe she should prep Hansol. “Before we go back out there, I warn that he’s a little temperamental, but he doesn’t talk much. Don’t feel intimidated by him. Feel free to leave if you need.” She shrugs as they head back out. “Not that you ever really feel that intimidated by anyone.”
At the table, Jihoon is flipping through her sketchbook. Meaning the demon had gone through her bag to find it and then had the audacity to put it on the table for everyone to see. Out of her periphery, she notices Hansol watching to see how she’ll react.
She decides to ignore Jihoon.
The demon doesn’t look up when they open their laptops and begin discussing all the projects they’re working on, separately and together. Jihoon actually seems to be analyzing every drawing she’s ever done in that sketchbook.
Four hours, two pots of tea, and a sandwich each later, she and Hansol pack up their things. When Jihoon had started tapping his fingers on the table, clearly bored, she’d tossed a pencil at him to draw in the sketchbook. Ever since, he’s been madly scribbling in it, ignoring every conversation that she and Hansol had had. Even the one when Hansol asked her if she’d heard about the pending alien attack he’d heard about and how he thought it was ridiculous.
She still isn’t clear on whether Hansol actually believes in aliens or if he just brings it up to make her laugh.
Outside the café, Hansol asks if she’s coming for dinner that night. “Seungkwan won’t shut up about how you don’t visit anymore.”
She snorts. “He knows I’m still working on my solo show.”
“He said that you should come over and work at the house again.”
“And we,” she motions between them, “agreed that we don’t get anything done if Seungkwan’s around.” She shakes her head with a smile and gives Hansol a one-armed hug in goodbye. “I’ll be over around 7, maybe 8? The boys are coming too, yes?”
“Seungkwan’s making it a big ordeal.” Hansol rolls his eyes affectionately. “But everyone said they’d come. Soonyoung hyung wants input on stage design for his next show, and Jeonghan hyung wants to talk about decorations for the wedding.”
Her eyes narrow. “Do I really want to go then?”
“Yah, if you don’t come, Seungkwan will complain for the next week. Do it for me.” Hansol waves a bandaged goodbye. He even smiles at Jihoon, who looks deadpanned back. “See you both later.”
She leads Jihoon back towards home.
“You sure you two aren’t dating?”
She chuckles. “Even demons don’t believe a girl and boy can be friends? I told you that Hansol and I mainly just work together nowadays.”
“He’s in a lot of your photos.”
“He’s my best friend.”
Jihoon’s mind flicks to the photos in her home. He can pick out all the faces, the pictures with all boys. “And are all the boys in your photos going to be at this party?”
She tips her head as she thinks. “Yes, actually.”
“Are you going to tell all of them who I am?”
She’d momentarily forgotten she couldn’t just leave Jihoon at home. “No, absolutely not.”
“So, what are you going to tell them?”
“Well, if I’m being honest, I was hoping I bored you so much today that you’d leave. But seems like that’s not going to happen.” She glances over her shoulder at the demon. She doesn’t remember when he’d changed outfits. It must have been sometime in the café, but he’s in a plain t-shirt and jeans now, a red hat on his head. “So, if you’re coming, I haven’t worked out what I’m going to say.”
“I can’t leave. I told you that there was something we had to do.”
“So you say.”
“And you seem to know more about it than you let on when I told you.”
“What?”
Jihoon waves the sketchbook in the air. “In here. Your sketches.”
“What about them? It’s not as if I’m drawing possessed humans or something.”
“You draw locations.”
“And?”
Jihoon frowns. He doesn’t trust anything this human says.
They stop in a few stores on the way home, and she can hear and feel Jihoon’s growing impatience. However, Jihoon doesn’t seem too aggressive for a demon, so she pushes her luck. They stop in a flower shop to pick up some flowers. She ducks into the bookstore near her apartment to ask the storeowner if anything interesting has come in. When the older woman points to a few new releases, she purchases two. The last stop is a bakery.
“You are seriously toying with me,” Jihoon grumbles under his breath.
“What are you talking about?”
The baker pretends as if he can’t hear the argument brewing, as he packs two-dozen assorted cupcakes.
“Are you trying to bore me into leaving?” Jihoon demands, his voice rising slightly.
She looks over her shoulder and shakes her head. “Not intentionally. Just always like to pop into these stores. And…” She pays for the cupcakes, smiling reassuringly at the baker hoping that it conveys that she’s not in a toxic relationship. “I always bring these cupcakes to Seungkwan’s. The boys love them.”
They go back to the apartment, bickering about different aspects of her life. From where all the women in her life are to why she is in the city alone to her lack of love life.
But she has a reasonable answer for everything.
“Seriously, Mr. Demon, I don’t know what you’re trying to figure out,” she smiles at the young man who holds the apartment door for her, “but my life is fine.”
“In my millennia of existence,” he watches her struggle to press the elevator button, “no one has a fine life. Something is always wrong.”
“But do humans who are satisfied with their lives,” she stops talking when the elevator opens, but there’s no one there, “summon demons to make it better?” She manages to press the button for her floor. “You’re here by accident, so you can leave whenever you please.”
Jihoon has no response to that. He trails after her. While he had been bickering with the human all the way back, Jihoon had also been watching the humans that were passing. If what he thinks is happening is actually happening, then there should have been signs of it. Also, why wasn’t he made aware of the plan, whatever the plan is?
Human possession isn’t frowned upon, far from it. Demons that can integrate and wreak havoc are praised highly. The reason most demons don’t is because the stakes are high. Consequences involve angels. Getting caught by an angel typically means termination, so only the strongest and boldest bother to try human possession. And with Hell crawling with more cowards than Bravehearts, well, it doesn’t happen often. And for all the evil that Jihoon could sense, there wasn’t anything particularly noticeable.
For all intents and purposes, the area seems just like her life: fine. So, why, as he walks into her apartment, does he have a sinking feeling?
He sits on the floor between the couch and the coffee table and splays her sketchbook open. Meanwhile, she disappears into her bedroom to do whatever humans do when they get home. When she returns, she looks similar to how she did when they stepped out the door earlier. She takes a seat across from him. Her back is to the TV and Jihoon doesn’t know why this makes him more comfortable.
The way she studies him makes him uncomfortable, as if she’s reading him more than she’s letting on. “So, what in the world have you been going on about that you refuse to say in front of other humans, Mr. Demon?”
“I just need to reconfirm. You are unafraid,” he pauses to gauge her reaction, “of me.”
“You don’t seem to want the destruction of humankind, so you seem overall alright. Haven’t possessed or really threatened me. If anything, you’ve now just become mildly annoying.”
That bothers him. Annoying. As if he’s a gnat.
“Why?” She tips her head. “Should I be scared?”
Jihoon takes her in. In whatever way she’s reading him, he can easily read more. In the reflection of the TV, he notices his own eyes going from black to green. The human can definitely see it too, though she hasn’t said anything about it.
“Hm, okay,” he finally says.
She blinks. That hadn’t been the response she was expecting. “Okay what?”
“You’re okay.”
She laughs in disbelief. “For a human, you mean?”
Jihoon nods. “Exactly.”
“Because I’ve decided to not be afraid of you?”
“I don’t like the groveling and the begging. And if they’re not doing that, then they’re demanding. Reasonable humans. I like you guys.”
“Does that include Hansol?”
Jihoon hesitates. “That human is tolerable.”
With a small smile he doesn’t notice, she leans forward and rests her arms on the coffee table. “Well, with that out of the way, what’d you wanna talk about?”
Jihoon immediately turns her sketchbook to face her. He points out the various locations she’d sketched out. At the time, she was working on architectural references. People are her forte, but she’s been wanting to transition to putting people into environments.
She waits for Jihoon to explain before asking her question. “What about them?”
He puts a finger on the sketchbook. “Do you know where exactly these places are?”
“Well, yeah. One of my friends and I went on a drive around the city and out to the suburbs looking for buildings to draw.” She answers the unasked question. “He wanted to photograph some stuff and he has a car.”
“These three,” he now points to an abandoned building, a building that looks a bit like a hospital, and a storefront, “give off…” Jihoon pauses to consider the best way to describe the black smoke coming off these sketches. “Bad energy.”
He cringes internally.
What’s the word he kept hearing in the café?
Vibes.
As if the potential end of humankind and the End Days are just about “vibes”. Hell, Jihoon can’t decide if he prefers the modern age to the last century.
But the human doesn’t cringe. Instead, she’d interpreted his words differently. As an affront on her skill. “You’re saying they suck?”
“No.” Jihoon looks over the sketches again. “Your drawings are actually… quite good,” he mutters. He avoids her eye when she smirks at the compliment. “These three places have bad energy coming off the page. But your other work,” he picks up the sketchbook and thumbs the pages, “nothing. So,” the book lands back on the table open to the original page, “I want to see them.”
“In person?” She takes his impassive expression as a yes. “I can take you to the places, but we’ll need a car.” Her eyebrows rise as an idea strikes. “He posted his photos on his Insta.”
“Insta?” Jihoon repeats.
“Instagram.” She’s on her feet going to her backpack by her desk. “Social media platform, not important.” When she sits back down, she looks at something in her sketchbook. “When did we go?” she mutters.
Jihoon notices the date scribbled in the right corner of each sketch.
He can hear her humming as she searches for whatever she wants to show him.
“Ah! Here!” The phone is then on the table facing him.
Jihoon squints at the screen before realizing he doesn’t need to squint to read what’s on the screen. Bad habits.
“Just swipe to the left to see the other ones. I think the abandoned building is the last photo.”
Her drawings, while not 100% accurate, capture the feeling and the general shapes. She’s simplified them, but Jihoon is impressed that he can associate the sketch and the real life building. His eyes dart to the name of the photographer: xu8.
He decides that can’t be a real name.
From the photos, Jihoon can’t see the evidence of demon activity. But through her sketches, he can. He doesn’t know what that says about the humans who did the work or the medium.
“This xu8 took the photos?”
“His name’s Myungho, but yes. That’s his username.”
Jihoon frowns.
She waves her hand dismissively. “Again, not important.”
“Will this Myungho be at the party tonight?”
“He should be. Do you want to talk to him?”
“Will he have the photos or the camera he used to take these photos with him?”
She reaches for her phone. “I can ask him to bring them.”
“Will he be suspicious?”
“Suspicious? No. Curious, probably. This was three months ago.”
Jihoon already recognizes the signature look of someone ‘texting’: head down, chin nearly to her chest. When she suddenly tosses herp hone behind him on the couch, the demon moves his head to avoid being hit.
“He said he’d bring it.”
Jihoon turns back to her and then back at the phone. “He responded already?”
“Myungho only texts in one worded answers and always has his phone nearby.” She leans back on her palms. “Now, what exactly are we going to tell my friends when you show up?”
part 4
#seventeen#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#lee jihoon scenarios#woozi scenarios#woozi imagines#svt#woozi#lee jihoon#woozi fic
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Sister jinx that helps out her virgin sister (sorry if the ask makes you uncomfortable)
A Sister’s Helping Hand
Tags: 1.9k words, virginity, inexperienced!reader, inexperienced!jinx, improvised sex toys, sharing sex toys, name calling, sister/sister incest
They’d never come up before, never been an issue. You didn’t even know what they were. You just knew that when you saw her naked or exposed you got a warm, bubbling feeling at the bottom of your stomach, close to your private parts that went down there too.
She listened to you and a grin spread across her lips. “You know, I figured out how to make that feeling go away but make it even better,” she said with a wide smile. “Can I show you?”
You nodded, of course you did. You trusted her with your life. She was your sister and maybe sometimes sisters could hurt but she never did.
She pulled off her crop top and revealed her breasts, trying to pull that feeling out of you. Her boobs were small, perky. You wanted to put them in your mouth.
She then kicked off her shoes and pulled down her pants and underwear in one motion. She grabbed your hand to pull you up as well. She pulled your shirt over your head and undid your bra. She told you to take off your shoes as well as your pants.
You both stood in front of each other completely nude.
You felt that warmth come back and settle in your stomach. A blush came up to your face and you looked away from Jinx.
She walked up to you and placed her hands on your hips. “Hey, you don’t have to be nervous. It’s just me, toots,” she said.
You mimicked her motion and placed your hands on her hips as well. “Doesn’t it feel sort of wrong?” you asked.
“Yeah but it doesn’t matter what other people think. We’re sisters. We’re us. We do everything together,” she said. “Now come on, lay down on the couch.”
You look at her, see the freckles spread across her face and look into the gentle sea of her blue eyes. You nod and go to the couch. You lay down on it and adjust the pillows until you’re comfortable.
She placed her hands on your legs and spread one so it hung off the couch and the other so it rested on the back end of it. She sat down in the space between. Then she leaned down in front of your privates.
She smiled, a wide grin across her face, “I wanna lick it.”
That sparked a very strong heat in your stomach. Your toes curled at the mere thought.
Instead of doing that, however, she placed her fingers in her mouth and sucked on them. When she took them out she moved them towards your privates. You shivered and a noise crawled up and out of your throat when her fingers touched you.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Just wait. You don’t know the half of it, toots.”
She moved her fingers upward. The pads got caught on something small, something almost hard, something you didn’t realize was what had been throbbing. You made another one of those noises.
“Jinx.”
She moved her fingers up and down. The feeling multiplied. It was a pleasure you’d never had before, one you’d couldn’t explain.
“You look so pretty, sound pretty too,” Jinx said, unknowingly adding fuel to the fire.
This was normal for you two. It was normal to compliment each other, experience new things with each other, but this felt different. It felt more intense. It felt more wrong. You would not be telling Silco about this. You could already feel it. This was gonna be one of your secrets.
She continued, up and down. Suddenly her fingers dropped down. They hovered over something else new. A whole. You had a whole in you? That was strange. It felt good when her skin hovered against it, just barely touched it. You made another sound and bit your lip.
“You haven’t put anything in here either, have you?” she asked.
You shook your head. “No.”
Jinx pressed her finger a little bit harder against the barrier of your hole. You made another noise and your eyes fluttered closed.
“You think that feels good,” Jinx said with some teasing in her voice. “One second, I’ll be right back.”
You whined when she stood up and bounced away. She didn’t leave your sight but you were confused when she went to your box of hygiene products. She returned with a hair brush which only furthered your confusion.
She put the end of it in her mouth. You could see the outline of it between her cheeks when she hallowed them. That sparked another warm feeling in you.
Sat back in her original place, she placed the end of the hair brush against you instead of her fingers. Your toes curled at the sensation of the smooth yet hard handle.
“Jinx,” you said, your voice coming out wispy and quiet.
She placed her hand on your stomach, just below your belly button. Her thumb moved in patterns against your skin while she shushed you.
She moved the handle back up to that ball of nerves. Your fingers dug into the couch as you made yet another sound. Then she slowly dragged it back down until it pressed against the entrance to that hole.
It was, at first, a barely there pressure and suddenly it wasn’t. You felt muscles that had never been used stretch around the handle and it felt good. It kind of hurt but it mostly felt good.
Jinx bit her lip as she concentrated on pushing it further and further inside you until she got to the end of the handle. You felt full in a way you never had before, in a way you never knew you needed.
“Fuck, Jinx,” you said, voice barely even a breath.
She looked up at you. “Feels good, huh?” she asked and you nodded.
She focused back down on where the brush was inside your hole. She turned it one way and then the other but didn’t take it out of you. She reached down and dragged her finger up from where your hole was all the way back to that ball of pleasure.
She began to move her fingers back and forth. You felt yourself clench around the handle as a result. Your vision went white at the feeling and you began making those noises once again.
She smiled at the sounds exiting you and the way she could see you mold around the brush. She continued to play with you and listen to your noise. A heat of her own hot as a fire inside of her at the sounds of your pleasure.
Then one moment you were clenching around the handle and the next it was gone. Then it was back as Jinx thrusted it inside you.
“Oh, fuck, oh Jinx,” you said, panting heavily.
You began to rock on an accord not your own towards the handle every time Jinx tried to make it disappear. It felt so good, so indescribably good. You wanted more. You needed it. You begged for it with your sister’s name on your lips.
It built into a blinding white pleasure that made your vision go and everything else. You could only focus on what was happening to you. Jinx’s hand moving around that sacred bundle, the feel of the brush going in and then leaving you empty, the build up of pleasure that made your whole body shake, Jinx’s name leaving your lips with a scream.
When it was over, the brush left you. You blinked open your eyes as you felt Jinx crawl over you. She held the brush, handle up, on your torso.
“Hold this,” she told you. “My turn, toots.”
Fingers still shaking, you grabbed hold of the hair brush and did your best to keep it steady but you were still panting, still dazed, your skin was still prickling with ecstasy.
Jinx lowered herself onto the handle that you now realized was soaked with liquid.
Was that from you? Did you do that? Was it yours? Was she putting it in her body now? Why did that make you excited?
She made one of those sounds too. It sounded so pretty. She looked gorgeous as her eyes shut and her mouth fell open. You wanted to fill her mouth with yours. It seemed like a good idea but maybe everything would. You did feel kind of funny, like your mind was covered in fog.
She started moving her body up and down, rocking your own with it. One hand steadied herself on the back of the couch. The other went down between the blue hair surrounding her own privates to find that pleasure knob on herself. She made even more noise when she did.
You glanced down and between the blue hair you could see flushed pink skin. A clear liquid coated the skin. It smeared and stretched. You understood what Jinx meant now when she said she wanted to lick it. The place where the handle was inside her clenched and stretched as well, only making your desire to put your mouth on it heighten.
Looking up you could see mismatched patches of red skin on her face, down her neck, and even on her torso. Her stomach fluttered with every breath. Her boobs bounced with every movement.
You wanted to touch them. You needed to touch them. Before you processed what you were doing, you reached up with your free hand and grabbed one. It was soft and squished under your grip. Jinx made a sound when you grabbed it. It went even louder when you swiped over the bulb of her nipple. You fondled it as her noises went louder and louder and her movements got faster and faster then she stilled.
Her entire body convulsed forward and down. Her legs shook. She seemed conflicted about whether she wanted her mouth open or closed between her teeth. She looked like an Angel.
Slowly she slumped. She pulled herself off of the hair brush and threw it from your grasp. She moved your legs that had been thrown over the back of the couch down as she went to cuddle you. She placed her head over your heart and her other hand went to fondle with your boob.
“That felt real good, toots,” she said.
“Yeah.”
She moved her leg over yours and you could feel a wet, sticky substance move across your leg originating from her privates.
“Let’s do that again,” she said.
“In a minute.”
“I’ve got so many ideas.”
“Of course you do.”
She giggled.
Soon after the door opened but not before a rapid knock that cause you both to tense. Silco appeared from behind the door.
“Are you girls al,” his voice faded as he took in the surroundings.
His eyes merely glanced over you two but lingered on the brush on the floor. He sighed and walked out. Two days later you found a box on the couch with a book called “Sex Education” placed on top. You opened the box and found weirdly shaped cylinders with arrow tips among many other things.
You shared a look with Jinx, both of you confused.
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I forget if I had asks about this but a couple nonnies messaged me privately asking me to post this. A lot of this is stuff we already talked about here but this is it all in one coherent post ♥︎
I think Harry was pretty nervous going into the night from the minute he stepped out of the car. This clip doesn't necessarily show nerves as it does trying to stay out of people's way, which could either just be courteous or show a little of his personality. I know people think he likes attention and I'm sure he does to a degree, but he's not walking confidently around like he owns the place and like people should cater to him. He moves out of the way from people walking, he tucks his arm close to his body which closes him off, and he rolls his lips together (he rolls his lips pretty frequently throughout the night also which usually means something along the lines of uncertainty).
During his red carpet walk, he does a lot of adjusting the strap on his shoulders (which I don't really consider fidgeting but rather I think he's simply adjusting it). He looks like he lost weight for the night so I think it just doesn't fit like it did when he was measured). He also clasps his hands in front pretty often and moves them around a lot which suggests holding back some kind of negative emotions, such as anxiety, frustration, or discomfort (prob anxiety and/or discomfort here). He does a lot of hand fidgeting in general so all of a sudden he's thrown into a pretty intense situation with no pockets to fidget in lol he also hides his thumbs periodically and fidgets with his rings but we already know he does that lol hiding sensitive body parts (like the stomach, thumbs, and groin are all usually linked to subconsciously wanting to hide oneself out of shyness or anxiety, or something similar).
He def isn't in a weird funk or anything, just nervous I think. BUT I would also argue that Trevor Noah's comment threw him later in the night and possibly altered his mood a little.
He seemed alright when introduced. Happy to be there, looking down which signals nerves or insecurity. Stark difference in comparison to Taylor who holds a gaze very well with whoever she's talking to and the camera.
Trevor's panties comment caused Harry to not look back at him for a good couple of seconds. He shook his head, smiled kind of, and was fidgeting with something under the table (his shoe maybe, idk). And then the looking away, fidgeting, smile/grimace, head shaking was more exaggerated after the sex symbol comment.
Obviously I think we all kind of knew Harry would be uncomfortable with that, not rude or super obvious about it, but I found watching the people around him to be pretty telling too. Jeff kept looking at Harry to gauge his reaction and I think almost as a security blanket for him? Tyler Johnson was pretty animated with amusement but looked confused at the end with the green m&m comment (lmao). Lizzo laughed but even she looked like "wtf" and I think she said something like "wow" at the end. I trust her to know what Harry is like tbh. I think she takes him under her wing.
From the seldom shots we see of Harry throughout the ceremony, when he's not performing, he seemed comfortable. He was a little slouched over but it's hard to tell if that was telling of his mood, which also contributes to shyness/anxiety, or if that's just how he is because his posture normally isn't spectacular. I don't think I can properly judge that.
With BOTH of his wins, he reacts the same (a little more for AOTY but the point stands). Hands covering face meaning he doesn't automatically rely on other people for comfort or general feelings and introverts in intimidating situations, covering his mouth which could mean shock, still not really gravitating toward others but rather they pull him in (I could talk about that point in more detail just generally speaking you want). Basically Harry = shy. I've been saying it for ages now but seeing it so blatantly obvious makes my heart hurt 🥲
Also just retagging this sequence of pics.
AND NOW WE GET TO THE PERFORMANCE BECAUSE IT WAS SOOO OBVIOUS HE WAS NERVOUS AND THROWN OFF. The first note was really rough and he almost tripped BUT we now know it was because the stage was moving in the wrong direction 🥲 Harry prob had maybe 3/4 days of proper rehearsals because he only ended tour recently. I'm sure that mishap really really threw him. The performance was rough, not terrible, but I think they did a good job considering the issues we just found out about. I hope Harry knows it's not his fault and he did the best he could. He seemed to grow more comfortable toward the end.
It also makes this comment about how performing went seem sarcastic to me - "it was a dream". It's funny knowing what really happened now after hearing him say that.
Anyway, those are my thoughts :) just opinions. I'm happy to talk more about it.
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Accidental Mistress - Faith, Trust, and...
Here we gooo! It's time for another adventure in the world of Vibrahnem, and this time we're back with the stars of the show, Noelle and Oraion. Perhaps we shall even see some new faces...
(For more Accidental Mistress content, check out the Master Post.)
Title: Faith, Trust, and...
Word Count: 4,829
Content and Warnings: snz (male)
-------------
“hhhK'SHOO!”
Oraion rubbed a finger beneath his still-tingling nose. Oftentimes the shift from dim to bright light would induce him to sneeze, so when he and Noelle stepped from the shade beneath the canopy of trees and into the clearing of a meadow, he felt the telltale prickle. Beside him, Noelle rubbed his arm. The gesture had become her way of blessing him without actually blessing him. As a Demon Lord, blessings didn’t so much hurt him as make him cringe, like a particularly obnoxious pun.
“Thanks. -snf-”
The young witch nodded and adjusted her round glasses. “It isn’t too much farther now. Once we hit the main road we can rest for a little while before we continue on. Then it’s a straight shot to Ateaux. We can spend the night there.”
“I still think it would be much faster if you’d let me carry you and fly there.”
His Mistress sighed. “And what if someone sees you?”
“People see monsters all the time.”
“Yes, like goblins or trolls or maybe a large, carnivorous plant. No one has seen a demon around here in… ever. Not to mention if someone recognizes me with you, they’ll spread all sorts of rumors about me being a witch that communes with demons or something.”
“Mistress, you do commune with demons. This demon.”
“You know what I mean!”
She playfully slapped his arm and he laughed, raising his hands in a show of defending himself.
“Yes, but it’s more fun to tease you about it.”
“Ugh, you!”
Noelle tried to shove him while falling into a fit of giggles, but, being just over a foot shorter than he was and possessing all the strength of a wet kitten, she may as well have shoved a tree.
“Regardless, we are going to travel like normal people. We can get horses in Ateaux—”
Oraion groaned.
“Horses? You know I hate horses. They make me all itchy without the fun part!”
“Yes, I know, but if we try to walk all the way to Tigate it’s going to take weeks.”
“It wouldn't if I flew us there…” He muttered the words under his breath in a singsong voice.
“Oraion—”
“We could travel at night!”
A more serious note crept into her tone and expression. “I'm sorry, but I don't want to risk someone sending Adventurers after us, or gods forbid the Order or their Inquisition.”
The demon relented. “All right, all right. We can travel like 'normal people.’” As he said the phrase, he made quotes in the air with his fingers and rolled his eyes. “But I reserve the right to complain about the horses.”
Noelle dug into her satchel and came up with a small vial of milky liquid that she then handed to him. He held it up so the sunlight shone through it, illuminating the fluid in a pale green.
“Er. What's this?”
“Allergy medicine.”
He blinked, momentarily stupefied. “But… you like my allergies.”
A bit of a blush came into her freckled cheeks, and Oraion made a mental note to ensure he made that lovely color appear as many times as possible on this little trip.
“I mean, I-I do, but that doesn't mean I want you suffering all of the time. I came up with the formula for Quinns, so I made some extras and brought them along in case they proved useful.” She used her chin to gesture to the vial in his hand. “You can take it when we get the horses.”
“Huh.” He turned the vial over a few more times before pocketing it. “It never even occurred to me to try taking medicine… Thank you.”
He saw her fidget with her scarf. “Well, I… hope it helps.”
Oraion’s gaze went to the rest of the outfit his Mistress wore, a black ensemble meant for travel, and a smirk pulled the corner of his lips.
“You know, those clothes really suit you. I’m glad I convinced you to try something new, at long last.”
The color in Noelle’s cheeks deepened, and something in Oraion’s chest twitched.
“Oh, do you really think so? I must admit, the leggings are much easier to move in than skirts.” Her hands went to either side of her waist. “The vest is a bit tight, though.”
“That’s because you’re so used to wearing baggy clothes all the time. I’ve told you before, but you have a very nice figure. This look on you is awfully fetching, if I do say so.”
“S-stop, you’re making me blush.”
With a grin he stepped in front of her and took her into his arms, leaning down to plant kisses on the side of her neck, eliciting from her a little cry of surprise and delight.
“I know, and that too looks awfully fetching on you, my dear.”
“Oraion!”
“Mmm, what do you say? There’s no one around—we could take our break here. My, are those wildflowers I see in this meadow? My nose is itching just thinking about—”
He had about half a second to sense that something was amiss before he was struck upside the head by something small, flapping, and angry.
“Agh! What-?!”
Whatever it was grabbed a lock of his long, scarlet hair and pulled, attempting to drag him away from Noelle.
“Ow, ow, ow! What the Hell is going on?!”
His Mistress seemed just as perplexed. “I-I don’t—”
Another voice spoke up near his head, shrill and piping, as Oraion tried to swipe at whatever had his hair.
“Run, Miss! Don’t worry, I’ll hold the fiend off!”
“F-fiend?” Noelle only looked more confused and shook her head. “No, no! He’s my friend!”
“If he was your friend, he wouldn’t have attacked you!”
The witch balled her hands into fists. “He was not attacking me! Now let him go!”
The thing was a dodgy little blighter, so instead of continuing to grab for it Oraion took hold of his own hair and yanked it back.
“Wahh!”
There, dangling at the end of his hair, was a fairy. She was perhaps the size of his hand from heel to fingertips and possessed of a set of green butterfly wings with pink eye spots. Her own large eyes, also pink, were quite wide as she was dragged in front of Oraion’s face, wings flapping helplessly against his far greater strength.
“It would be wise to let go of me, pixie.”
The tiny creature clutched his hair even tighter to her chest with a scowl.
“NO! Not until you leave this nice young lady alone!”
“I am her companion!” He growled. “We are traveling together!”
“Liar! I saw you biting her neck! I’ll bet you’re some kind of vampire!”
The demon rolled his eyes. “Oh, for- I was kissing her! And I can’t be a vampire it’s day—”
A sudden and intense tickle seized his nose, so fast and violent that the sneeze decided to skip the accustomed hitchy buildup phase altogether and proceed straight to the action. His eyes snapped shut as his lungs drew in a deep breath before he could even finish saying the word “daylight.”
“HAESHIEW!”
That, at least, got the pixie out of his hair. She shrieked and darted away, hiding behind Noelle’s back and peeking over the witch’s shoulder.
Pixie dust. He was so preoccupied with the fairy clinging to his hair that he didn’t notice those furiously flapping wings of hers were pumping pixie dust directly into his face. This wasn’t exactly how he had imagined his first exposure to the stuff. He had thought it likely that it would set him off, but he didn’t expect it to be this strong. He’d had intense tickles and violent sneezes before—he’d recently sneezed so hard he broke through the floor in Noelle’s workshop (although, to be fair, he had also been temporarily giant at the time, and he still felt awful about it)—but these were so strangely sudden. Each urge to sneeze no sooner prickled him than it was out, explosive single sneezes without so much as a hitch between them.
“HIHSHIU! … HIHHSSHIU! … HEH’TCHOO! … EHHSHIEW! nguhh…”
He lost count at around six or seven and was starting to wish he had already taken Noelle’s allergy medicine. Eventually he hit a pause long enough to summon his handkerchief and try to expel the cursed stuff from his sinuses.
“Ugh, oh gods… -snnff- D-don’t let that thing near me… HIIHT-SHIUH!”
Noelle fidgeted. “Um, I don’t think she wants to be.”
The fairy was still clinging to the witch’s shoulder, with only her tiny hands and the top of her head visible.
“S-so scary…”
“Well it’s not my fault! If she hadn’t butt in and gotten all up in my fa- HAHSHIEW! -schnf- … face, I wouldn’t be making a spectacle of myself!”
He blew his nose again, the mess in his handkerchief tinged with glimmering, golden flecks.
“Well. Certainly the prettiest thing that’s ever come out of my nose. Ugh, I’ll be sneezing glitter for days, I’m sure… ehSHIUH!”
“Um, little one…” Noelle turned to the pixie on her shoulder. “I understand that you were only trying to help, but this man really is my companion, and he really was only kissing me.”
The little fairy fluttered a bit higher. “Then he’s… not a vampire?”
With a slightly awkward chuckle, Noelle shook her head. “Ah, no. He’s not a vampire.”
“Then why does he smell bad?”
Oraion looked aghast. “I beg your pardon, I do not!”
“Yes, you do!” the pixie shot back, “Like lightning and burnt toast! No human smells like that! They mostly smell like salt and onions, but sometimes they smell like cheese. Miss, you smell very nice, like lavender.”
“Well, at least it’s not cheese. Listen, um, do you have a name?”
“Me? Oh, my name’s Butterfly!” She flew up to fully perch on Noelle’s shoulder and flapped her butterfly-like wings for emphasis.
“Well, Butterfly, I’m Noelle and this is my friend Oraion. Now, you’re right: Oraion isn’t human, but I assure you he’s not a bad person.”
“If he isn’t human, then what is he?”
“Uh…” Noelle looked helplessly at Oraion, unsure what to tell her.
He folded his arms and sighed, and as he did so his human disguise fell away, revealing his horns and long, lashing tail. The diminutive fae seemed unphased, however.
“Oh, so you’re some kind of demon? That would explain the burnt toast smell.”
“I am indeed a demon: an incubus. You know, for as upset as you were a minute ago, you’re surprisingly calm about this.”
“Well, not all demons are bad. I actually dated an imp for a little while… Oh, but I am a fae of the Spring Court! We are the stewards of life, nature, and balance!” Her words held the tone of a rehearsed speech or indoctrinated mantra, and she placed a tiny fist on her chest. “Creatures of the undead are unnatural mockeries of life, and therefore our sworn enemy! And uh…Well, when I thought you were a vampire I sort of panicked. So, I’m sorry I attacked you… and made you, uh, ‘make a spectacle’ of yourself.”
Oraion sighed and wiped his nose again. “Yes, well. I suppose there are worse ways to discover that one is allergic to pi- AESHHIEW! -snf- … Ahem, to pixie dust.”
“So what's a demon and a human doing traveling together?” Butterfly sat down on Noelle’s shoulder and crossed her legs. “Oh, and don’t mind me, we can talk while you walk.”
Clearly the fairy had no intention of leaving, looking between Noelle and Oraion with expectant eyes.
Unable to summon the resolve to send the fairy away, Noelle cleared her throat awkwardly and started walking again.
“Ah, well, for a couple of reasons. One, my house needs some repairs, and we couldn’t source the materials in town, so we’re heading to one of the nearby cities that has a bit more trade. While we’re there, there’s also a library I’d like to visit that has some rare arcane volumes in their collection.”
“Okaaay,” the little fae drawled, “but that doesn’t tell me why you two are together. Why are you traveling with an incubus?”
Noelle felt Oraion’s arm slip around her waist as he sidled up next to her on the side opposite Butterfly, resuming his mortal guise with a snap of his fingers.
“Didn’t we already tell you that I’m her companion? We’re madly in love, you see. Isn’t that right, dear?”
“Oh… yes, uh… Oraion… is my lover, that is true.”
Technically, she declined to add.
Butterfly regarded Oraion flatly. “Do you really expect me to believe that an incubus would fall in love with a human?”
The demon placed his free hand over his heart with a dramatic flourish. “Oh, you wound me, my fairy friend. Have I not a heart? If you cut me, do I not bleed? How is it so impossible to think that I could not also love?”
“Don’t you use people for sex?”
“I assure you, my dear Noelle is the only person I have been with since we met. I swear it upon my honor as a Demon Lord. She has me wrapped quite tightly around her little finger.”
He gave her an affectionate squeeze, and Noelle’s cheeks burned. This was getting very embarrassing, very fast. She sought a way to change the subject.
“W-well, I am also a witch, and Oraion assists me in my magical endeavors.”
That grabbed the pixie’s attention. Her large eyes got even wider. “Whoa, really? You're a real witch?”
“Er, yes? I’m certainly not a fake one.”
“Do you have a wand and everything?”
“Yes,” Noelle replied with a chuckle, “I do indeed have a wand.”
Butterfly leaned forward with great interest. “Can I see it?!”
“I don’t see why not.” She reached into her satchel and pulled the slim, wooden rod out of its pocket, holding it up for the fairy to see.
“Huh. I was expecting it to be… fancier. Can I touch it?”
“Sure. There’s nothing really special about the wand itself. It’s just a focus—a tool. This isn’t even the first one I’ve made. I’ve broken a number of them over the years.”
Butterfly grabbed the tip of the wand with her tiny hands and stared at it intently for a few moments.
“The tree that this came from… this branch was already dead when you got it. You didn’t ask it for a live one?”
Noelle regarded the fae with some confusion. Ask a tree for a live branch?
“Uh… no? I-I just collected it from where it had fallen on the ground. I didn’t know I was supposed to ask.”
“Oh. Well, I’m glad you didn’t just rip a live branch off some poor tree without asking, but dead wood doesn’t conduct magic as well as live wood does. Once it dies and falls off, the energy inside stops flowing, and it gets kind of… stopped up. But if you take a branch that’s still alive, you can keep that energy flowing indefinitely. As long as you take care of it, it’ll take care of you too!”
Noelle blinked. “Wow, I… I had no idea. Thank you.”
Even Oraion made a little impressed sound.
“Well, I suppose fairies are useful for something after all.”
“Hey! I’m useful for lots of things!”
“Oh? Like butting into people’s affairs? Ruining the mood? Pulling hair?”
The tiny fairy made a little irritated growl. “Don’t make fun of me! I know your weakness—I’ll get up in your face again!”
“Oh gods, please don’t.”
“Then you’d better be nice to me!” she snapped with a menacing flutter of her wings.
Butterfly continued to bombard them with questions and banter all the way to the main road while staying perched on Noelle’s shoulder. Oraion was losing patience with the pixie and her incessant chatter.
“Have you not yet satisfied your curiosity, fairy? I hope you don’t expect to continue traveling with us, because that is not happening.”
Butterfly crossed her little arms. “What? Why not?”
He pointed a finger at the tiny fae. “The only reason you’ve come this far with us is because you, rather rudely I might add, tagged along uninvited! Not to mention we have business to attend to in a human city—do you really want to get caught by humans?”
“There’s plenty of time before you get to the city! I could just leave when you get to the outskirts.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that you weren’t invited!”
“What did I say about being nice to me?”
Oraion scowled. “You know, it’s not very nice to threaten people to get them to do what you want, either. And besides—” He took out the vial that Noelle had given him and downed the contents. “I have allergy medicine.”
Demon and fae glared at each other, while Noelle looked down the road and shielded her eyes from the sun with a hand.
“Someone’s coming.”
“Eh?” Oraion followed her gaze and saw that, indeed, a figure on a horse was riding towards them at a brisk pace. “I see… Looks like they’re wearing some kind of uniform. Dark gray and teal.”
“Oh no.” Noelle took a step back and shot Oraion an anxious look, her face pale. “The Inquisition.”
“The what now?” Butterfly fluttered up off of Noelle’s shoulder to get a better look.
“No, don’t let them see you!” Noelle hissed, “They’re a branch of the Order, and they do not take kindly to supernatural creatures!”
The fairy just looked more confused.
“An order of what?”
The rider was growing close enough that Oraion was certain they would be able to see Butterfly at any moment.
“Sorry about this, but there isn’t time to explain.”
“Sorry about wha—?!”
Those wide pink eyes grew wider as Oraion’s hand closed around her and he unceremoniously shoved her under his coat.
“Just stay hidden and stay quiet until they leave.”
He saw Noelle fidget with her scarf as the rider drew nearer and nearer.
“M-maybe they’re in a hurry to get somewhere, and they’ll just pass us by…”
Somehow Oraion didn’t think they’d get that lucky, so he was unsurprised when the rider slowed and eventually brought his horse, a sleek black steed, to stop in front of them. He was a slim, young man with sharp features, his silver hair hanging just past his chin in a silky sheet. His almond-shaped eyes, a marginally darker gray than his hair, regarded them with suspicion behind narrow glasses. Across the bridge of his nose ran a thin, pale scar.
Time to turn up the charm, Oraion thought, and donned his most genial grin before sketching an elegant half-bow.
“Good day, Inquisitor. Is there something we might do for you? If you’re pursuing someone, I’m afraid we’ve only just arrived on the road and have not seen anyone come this way.”
The Inquisitor scoffed. “I am Inquisitor Jeong Hun Song, and I am pursuing no one. I happened to be traveling in this direction when I spotted two suspicious persons loitering about on the side of the road, and so it behooved me to investigate.”
Oraion cringed internally. So, this fellow was one of those stick-in-the-mud types, eh?
“Ah. Well, I assure you, Inquisitor Song, that we are but simple travelers making our way to Ateaux. I sincerely apologize if we have, quite unwittingly, done anything to draw your ire.”
He suppressed a shudder as he felt something squirming inside his coat, turning the motion into tossing his hair over his shoulder. Inquisitor Song looked between them with narrowed eyes before settling his gaze on Noelle.
“What is your business in Ateaux?”
“Ah, we—” Oraion began, but Inquisitor Song cut him off with a gesture.
“I was asking her.”
“M-me?” Noelle’s voice came out in a terrified squeak. “U-um, we’re just s-stopping there on our way to- to Tigate.”
“Hm. I see. You seem a bit nervous, Miss.”
“N-nervous? I-I mean- I don’t—”
Oraion put his arm around her shoulders, trying to ignore the crawling sensation moving towards his shoulder.
“Well, it’s not every day you get stopped by the Inquisition, is it? And she always gets a bit tongue-tied around handsome men. You’ve no idea how long it took me to get her to even talk to me when we first met, isn’t that right, my dear?”
An anxious titter escaped Noelle’s mouth as her face reddened, and she nodded.
“She’s frightfully shy, I’m afraid. Please don’t take it personally.”
Inquisitor Song took a deep breath through his nose before blowing it out again in a huff. His horse stamped and whinnied. Noelle’s allergy medicine must not have taken effect yet, as Oraion realized with a sinking feeling that an itch was blooming in his nose. He thumbed it with a sniffle and prayed Inquisitor Song would leave posthaste. Inside his coat, Butterfly was still wriggling about. What in blazes was she doing? She was nearing his collar now. Was she trying to get out?
“You claim to be simple travelers, and yet I detect the reek of illicit magic about you.”
Oh boy.
“Illicit magic?” Oraion echoed with a forced chuckle, “I, ah, -snf- I don’t know about ‘illicit,’ but it’s become rather commonplace for even normal folk like ourselves to carry an enchanted item or two, hasn’t it? Why, I believe my wife here has a few medicinal elixirs in her bag—perhaps that is what you are sensing?”
The man on the horse sneered, and Oraion dearly wished he could punch the fancy cap that sat upon his head right off.
“Oh, quit playing innocent. You two are no simple travelers. You’re clearly hiding something, and believe you me: I will get to the bottom of it.”
A bead of sweat dripped down Oraion’s neck, both from the rising tension and the tickle he was fighting in his sinuses.
“Hiding something? Sir, I beg your pardon, but y-you must be mistaken. Even we know better than to hide anything from a-heh n-noble Inquisitor such as yourself.”
He felt Butterfly poke her head out of his collar just below his ear.
“I could hardly breathe in there!” she whispered, “And I want to see this Inquisitor guy.”
No way could he respond to her. He couldn’t even afford to acknowledge her with Inquisitor Song watching them like a hawk. Oraion rubbed his nose again. He didn’t usually have this strong a reaction to horses, but it was taking nearly everything he had to keep his breathing steady.
“Don’t bother with flattery. Now, you can either start being honest with me, or I can arrest you on suspicion of heresy.”
“But we really are just traveling!” Noelle blurted out beside him. “W-we’re trying to get to Tigate to get some supplies that we, um, can’t get back home. That’s all, I swear!”
“Even if that is true, it does not explain the aura about you.”
“Sir, if I may—”
A furious buzz blossomed in Oraion’s sinuses, and as Butterfly squirmed about on his shoulder he realized it wasn’t just the horse making him itch. His chest heaved before he could even think to stop it.
“HEHH’TCHOO!”
The sneeze was so forceful it snapped him forward almost in half. Butterfly squealed and hurtled out of his coat like a shot before cowering behind Noelle once again. A scowl twisted the Inquisitor’s countenance.
“Ah. I see.”
Noelle tried futilely to hide the fairy behind her back. “B-Butterfly!”
Inquisitor Song shot an annoyed glare at her.
“Miss, you must think me a fool if you believe you can convince me that that pixie is a butterfly.”
“N-no, um, that’s her name…”
Slight color came to the Inquisitor’s cheeks as his mouth moved soundlessly for a few seconds. Oraion enjoyed seeing him taken down a peg probably a bit more than he should.
“Oh… I, ah, I see.” Song held a fist in front of his mouth and coughed. “Regardless, I knew you were hiding something. And all this fuss over a pixie. Had I known it was something so trivial, I would have saved myself the time. Why on earth did you have a pixie inside your coat?”
“Well we- HAESHIU! W-we were- HAESHIEW! Sorry- HEH-TCHUU!”
Noelle stepped in. “Um, we just… didn’t want her to get in trouble.”
Inquisitor Song sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up for a moment, but some of the stiffness went out of his shoulders. “Look, I know the Inquisition doesn’t exactly enjoy a sterling reputation, but, contrary to what you may think, we don’t go around hunting down every supernatural being we can find.”
“Right. Sorry…”
It seemed Noelle’s allergy medicine was having some effect, since being able to count the number of his sneezes on one hand during a fit was a rare feat for Oraion. He needed to summon his handkerchief but thrust his hand into a pocket before doing so. The last thing they needed now was to give Inquisitor Song a new reason to be suspicious of them.
“I’d advise you to keep your diminutive friend away from Tigate,” the man went on, “or she may end up on the Black Market. There’s been an uptick in poaching activity of late.”
Noelle nodded her head, looking like she’d just received a stay of execution. Which, on reflection, was likely true. “Oh, um, thank you.”
As Oraion finished wiping his nose, he noticed Inquisitor Song look at him askance. A cold prickling ran across his skin as a knot tightened in his gut. Perhaps they weren’t quite out of the woods yet…
“I am in this country on business, but I am from Onteburgh in Merseheim. Have you ever been there?”
Oraion raised an eyebrow. “I can’t say that I have.”
“No family there?”
“None that I know of.”
“Hm…” Inquisitor Song shook his head and waved a dismissive hand. “Never mind. You remind me of someone, is all. Well then. Good day.”
He prodded his horse with his heels and set off again down the road. Oraion wondered what that last bit had been about, but he supposed they should simply count themselves fortunate that the whole affair was over. It wasn’t until the horse and rider were out of sight around a bend in the road that he heard Noelle sigh beside him. Instinctively he put his arms around her, supporting her, and she leaned into him, trembling. He patted her hair with one hand.
“It’s all right now. It’s over.”
“Sorry. I was just so scared.” She sounded calmer than when the Inquisitor was present, at least. “I really thought we were going to get arrested.”
“Well, luckily we didn’t. And I suppose we have Butterfly to thank for that.”
The pixie, now hovering nearby, pointed to herself.
“Huh? Me?”
“Yes, you. The Inquisitor assumed you were the ‘illicit magic’ he was sensing, and not—oh, I don’t know—a witch and a Demon Lord? You’re the reason he ended up leaving us alone. So, thank you, and I owe you an apology. If you hadn’t come with us we would have likely been in much deeper trouble.”
The little fairy puffed out her chest and glowed—literally. An aura of golden light surrounded her as she flew in an excited little loop with a laugh that reminded him of tiny, jingling bells.
“Heehee! I told you I was useful for lots of things!” She did one final circle around them both before hovering above their heads. “You two sure are interesting! I’ll have to drop by for a visit sometime!”
Noelle adjusted her glasses. “Wait, I thought you wanted to come with us?”
“Eh, not so much anymore. Humans are kinda scary—I don’t wanna end up poached. Don’t you do that to eggs? Yeesh. Welp, I’ll be seeing you around!”
With that she sped off, back into the forest. They watched her for some time until they could no longer make out her glow among the trees.
“Well. That was… something.”
“Mm… I-I wonder what she meant by ‘drop by for a visit.’ She couldn’t possibly know where I live… could she?”
Oraion chuckled. “At this point, I wouldn’t put anything past her.”
With his arm around her shoulders, Oraion and Noelle continued along the road toward Ateaux.
“Mistress, that Inquisitor fellow mentioned that there’s a Black Market in Tigate. Doesn’t that make you the least bit curious about it?”
Noelle scoffed. “Not really. It sounds dangerous and unethical.”
“Maybe. But what do you think someone might be willing to pay for the hair of a Demon Lord?”
“You want to sell your hair?”
“Well, not all of it, of course! I was thinking maybe just a few hairs from my tail. Perhaps we could even barter it for something of equal value. Such as, hmm…” He made a big show of thinking it over before flashing her a sly grin. “Some pixie dust, perhaps?”
#accidental mistress#oraion the allergic incubus#noelle the awkward witch#snz ocs#snzblr#snz#snz kink#sneeze kink#snzfic#sneeze fic#sneezefic
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OC-tober Day 15: Bitter
(Stretching the prompt a bit but medicine is bitter, right? Anyway this probably takes place in like. 3007, 3008. Thereabouts. I was going to make it longer but it also occurs to me that I am hungry. So instead I'm gonna go eat something. Oh yeah and this is Léonys' point of view, since that isn't actually established in the story.)
You aren’t really supposed to answer the door to people you don’t know, but it’s not as if Lady Hackberry is going to get up to do it, and the shrill ring of the bell is giving you a headache.
You pull the blanket around your shoulders tighter and shuffle over towards the door, pausing to chough before opening it just a crack and peering out. A man stands on the doorstep, and you vaguely recognize him; this is Saeradan, who lives alone across the Greenway to the north in a little cabin. He is carrying a basket in his arms and looks for someone his own height before he sees you standing there, barely visible through the crack in the door.
“Hello,” you say, or rather try to. Your head is stuffed up and it comes out more as a congested huff. “Sorry, but you can’t come in. We’re all sick. We’ll make you sick too.”
Saeradan kneels down so he’s closer to your height. “Everyone is sick?” he asks. “Where’s the lady of the house?”
“Sleeping,” you say. “She was up all night. It’s just me awake now.”
He holds out the basket and you release your blanket with one hand so you can take it. “I was worried when I didn’t see her go into town this week,” he says. “A few people in town have been sick too. I hope this will help. It’s some healing herbs and salves.” He hesitates, and looks you up and down. “Do you know how to make a tea?” he asks.
Normally, you would be offended, but your head hurts too much for that. “Yes,” you say. “I’ll need to go to the well for water, though. There’s not much left in the kitchen.”
You can just see the well behind him, and though it isn’t far, it feels far. It’s very bright outside, and you don’t really want to leave the shade of the porch. He must read some of the reluctance in your eyes, because he pats your hand as he stands up again. “You go stoke the fire,” he says. “I’ll bring some water from the well for you.”
You nod and step back inside, letting the door swing closed and blinking to allow your eyes to adjust to the darkness inside. You pause for a moment to wonder if you should really do anything this fellow says. After all, you don’t know him very well. But Lady Hackberry stops to talk to him when she passes him on the road, and you think he came to help till the garden once. Some folk say he is a Ranger. You aren’t sure whether or not you believe that.
If he wanted to hurt you, though, he very easily could have forced his way into the house and overpowered you. You shuffle to the kitchen and set the basket down on the table. There is a knock at the door, considerably more gentle this time, and you go back and crack it open again. Saeradan has brought two buckets of water, and he leans over to pick up the one he set down to knock on the door.
“I can carry it,” you say. “Don’t want to make you sick, too.”
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Sure,” you say. “The kitchen’s not far.”
He pauses a moment, and then seems to decide to trust your judgment on the matter. “All right,” he says. “Make a tea of the herbs wrapped in cheesecloth, and have everyone drink some. The salve in the blue jar will help with fever and the salve in the green jar should help with coughing.”
You nod as you adjust the blanket into one hand again and take the handle of the nearest bucket. Saeradan steps back a little and then slowly starts to turn away.
“Thank you!” you call.
He turns back and offers a small smile. “It’s my honor,” he says, and then he is quickly walking across the yard toward the lane.
You drag first one bucket and then the other into the kitchen and pour one into the big kettle already hanging over the fire. The other you pour into the water barrel for later, and then you turn towards the basket and pull back the cover.
The herbs are pungent and immediately fill the kitchen with their odor. The smell is strong, but not bad, and you feel little doubt about throwing them into the boiling water and brewing a tea with them. As it brews and the steam fills the kitchen, you think that maybe your headache feels a little bit better, and when you pour yourself a cup and take a drink you’re sure.
The tea is extremely strong and extremely bitter. You drink it slowly, sitting on a stool at the kitchen table, unwilling to give it to anyone else in the house until you’ve had some yourself and ensured that it is safe, just in case. But you feel fairly confident that Saeradan gave you something good, especially when after about an hour you suddenly feel hungry, a sensation you haven’t really felt for several days, and find you have the energy to go through the cupboards and find some bread and jam. You aren’t sure when the last time you ate was.
The jam tastes very bad with the tea, or perhaps the tea tastes very bad with the jam, and most likely most other things, so when you pour it into the smaller kettle and prepare a tray to take upstairs to everyone else you leave the jam off. They can dip the bread in the tea for now. Perhaps later you will have the energy to make some broth or something -- but then perhaps not. You are also feeling sleepy for the first time in days, genuinely sleepy, and not merely exhausted. Perhaps after everyone else has had some you will rest.
#lotro#oc-tober#lotro fic#my writing#the wind will set me racing#like my initial idea was a 3 parter#where saeradan brought medicine and then later brought food#but leonys got sicker and couldnt answer the door on his third visit#so theres a little 'oh no!' element#but im hungry. so. imagine it yourself
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We Go Together | Homelander x You | Chapter 18
Taglist: @hom3landr @theaudacitytowrite @lover1307
TW: This chapter implies that Madelyn Stillwell has preyed on (gr**med) Homelander sexually.
Your senses begin to return long before you’re able to open your eyes. It feels cold, and the air is filled with an antiseptic, hospital smell. Your clothing feels strange, too, coarse and unfamiliar — when you stir slightly, you realize that instead of the clothes you put on this morning, you are now wearing some sort of medical gown.
You want to rub your eyes but, when you try, you feel metal cuffs holding your wrists in place above your head. Your ankles are restrained too, you realize, and the surface beneath your prone body isn’t a hospital bed — it’s an exam table.
It’s all starting to come back to you now — Vogelbaum’s revelations, the realization that you needed to resign from Vought for your own safety. The darts piercing your skin. The paralysis, the rushing in your ears and the wave of blackness that overtook your sight.
You manage to force your eyes open, although at first you’re blinded by the sterile array of fluorescent lights on the ceiling. Once your vision adjusts, you are able to take in the room where you’re being held, the metal door and white walls. With a shiver, you realize how similar this place is to the Bad Room from John’s memories.
This is bad, you realize. This is really fucking bad.
The cameras trained on you from every angle must have shown that you are awake because, a few minutes later, the door opens and a group of people file into your cell. There are heavily armed guards, scientists in white lab coats holding clipboards… and one face you recognize immediately.
“Good morning, my little trespasser,” says Dr. Jonah Vogelbaum. “I trust you rested well?”
So he knew I was there with John last night, you think to yourself. And that means he’s probably figured out exactly who I am — which means there’s no reason to try and hide it.
“Better than you,” you respond venomously. “I don’t torture people all day every day, and silence anybody who asks too many questions. How do you sleep at night after a long day of committing crimes against humanity?”
“I sleep great,” Vogelbaum tells you, his voice placid but with a mocking undertone. “As long as no one wakes me up to play a game of Twenty Questions, like you and Homelander did last night.”
“Shut the fuck up,” you demand. “I had a right to know!”
Vogelbaum opens his mouth to answer, but before he can speak a different voice — a familiar voice — rings out behind you: “On the contrary, Miss L/N — Vought International had a right to know about you.”
One of the scientists lifts up a handheld remote and presses a few buttons. The exam table begins to rotate away from the door and towards the opposite wall. You see the wall panels opening up to reveal a screen, on which you see — who else? — a webcam view of Madelyn Stillwell. She’s seated comfortably in her office, leaning back in her chair slightly as she gazes at you through her vantage point on the wall above.
“Of course, we looked for you after your father’s disappearance,” Stillwell says, “but over time, it became less and less of a priority. Until, that is, you threw yourself right back into our laps.”
“You could have just lived a normal life,” she continues. “But you just had to come back, you had to know the whole story — and you wouldn’t stop until you contaminated our most valuable asset.”
“John is not a product! He is A PERSON!” you shout. “What the FUCK is wrong with all of you?!” [continued on AO3]
#ao3 writer#fanfic#homelander#homelander x reader#homelander x you#homelander x y/n#the boys fanfic#the homelander#the boys amazon#homelander the boys#the boys#minors dni
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Not sure if you're still answering these type of ask. But do you have any Clifford headcanons? 👉👈
Maybe some about what Clifford and Zee's relationship was like???
my askbox is pretty much always open so people can ask for headcannons anytime! A heads up to longtime Clifford fans I've gotten a general idea of his character through watching episodes/clips from Muppets Tonight, so idk if theres other videos of him
-I did a post a while back with some Clifford headcannons so you can read them here: Palettepainter101 — Got any headcanons for Clifford? (tumblr.com)
-As for him and Zee overall they where a pretty normal, but fashionable, couple. From watching Muppets Tonight Clifford strikes me as the type of guy who is just trying to do his job, get paid, and put food on the table. If he's not dealing with some dumb shit backstage then he will be later. I kind of love him for that, he's just trying to run a show, let the man do his job.
-When they met Zee was just a singer and hadn't started her teaching career just yet. Zee sang at different joints more or less as a very passionate hobby, she was paid well but the gigs where far and few, so she wanted to get a fulltime job to make ends meet. She applies for a job at the Muppets Tonight studios for an actor, with her career as a dancer she was used to a stage and working alongside other muppets was a new change of pace that sounded fun to her. Since Zee was already a singer and proved to already have experience on a stage she got hired relatively quickly
-Zee had always preformed alone, so while it took a bit for her to adjust having acting partners she soon made quick friends with some of the other actors on the show. Being one of the oldest cousins to Zoot she's also naturally the mum friend of their group, so isn't afraid of rolling up her sleeves to get stuff down. Her and Clifford where pretty close by this point, since Zee was good at keeping a level head and people seemed to listen to her Clifford trusted her with a lot of other things he didn't have the time for.
In some bloopers for Muppets Tonight there's this one where Clifford gets into a fight with Johnny and his chimp Sal. I think it'd be funny if Zee see's this going down and naturally goes over to see what's wrong, manages to calm Sal down with nothing more then a few calm words and a smile, and the pair go on their way, before she turns to Clifford and probably asks "You good boss?"
-During the time when the two where starting to crush on each other there was a lot of flirting/playful teasing. Zee and Clifford could match each others energy, and their impeccable fashion tastes, but it took them ages to actually start dating. A lot of people on the show assumed they where dating long before they actually where because the back and fourth flirting game went on forever. The day Clifford actually went to ask Zee out stuff kept getting in his way, in typical, comical muppet fashion. Whenever he got round to talking with Zee something else would pop up, or Pepe and Seymour would interrupt him, then Zee would be called over by somebody else and he'd loose his chance. It wasn't until the end of the day when Clifford flops down in his office chair does Zee pop by with a coffee, probably with a "Sheesh, you look rough creampuff" comment (not unkindly). Clifford sighs, saying something about how the day was so hectic and how he looks like a mess. Zee chuckles, saying that he's still got his looks, and then Clifford asks her out
-The two where already flirty before they began dating, so adding dating to the mix felt totally natural for them. With Zee as his girlfriend Zee helped out a lot more with the operations of running the show, the stuff Clifford often handled alone with occasional help from Pepe and Rizzo. Zee's singing career had been pretty popular, but Muppets Tonight was really when it started to take off. Clifford made space for her to sing songs in-between acts to warm up the audience, and Clifford loves to hear her sing. The two where still very flirty even after dating, and might have snuck in a few make out sessions in Clifford's office during commercial breaks.
I want to say they dated for a handful of years, perhaps the two had started to share their own space (perhaps rumours of the two buying a new place together and settling down, only Zee and Clifford know for sure). But Zee was eventually approached by a business man to give her a brand deal with her singing, only issue is Zee would have to move. Clifford and her had a long talk about it, and at first they tried to make long distance work, but in the end neither wanted to hold the other back and decided to remain friends
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Things that have happened in my BG3 play through (headcanons and actual things) with my bard Tavi, full name Octavia. This is mostly Act 1 nonsense
-her flute is less a flute and more shitty-elementary-school-recorder but somehow she can make it sound good (and she can passably play just about any instrument)
-Tavi’s ‘flute’ is made of metal and she absolutely has brained people with it before. Sometimes she plays Scratch’s belly like a drum and the dog is just so happy b/c belly rub. She thinks she’s a terrible singer but she’s actually pretty good. Her old boss wouldn’t let her sing or be in the spotlight b/c boss thought Tavi wasn’t pretty enough (cheek scar from a tussle as a teen)
-Tavi is always tapping out a beat with her feet or hands. Laezel threatens to cut them off if she doesn’t stop. this does not stop Tavi.
-Scratch decides his sleeping place is curled up with Tavi, preferably inside the sleeping bag with her. Multiple times she’s found a bone down by her feet b/c Someone wanted to protect it (and then Withers is on a rampage b/c the dog stole one of his tibia again)
-Astarion accidentally kills her via using Tavi as his personal juice box. Scratch sits beside her (friend is sleeping!) until Gale realizes she’s bloodless and he is absolutely heartbroken for poor Scratch b/c second friend in as many days died. so Gale revives Tavi (also: he might have a crush on her but sshhh)
-She wakes up to Scratch 3 inches from her face and he immediately drops a disgusting leather ball next to her head and begins licking her face b/c he’s so happy she finally woke up! Must have been a good sleep. Astarion is now on her shit list. Gale is on her “I sorta trust you” list.+
-Tavi and Karlach have a tap dancing competition which ends with Wyll showing them both up. Both Laezel and Astarion pretend it’s the dumbest thing ever but are secretly watching.
-Halsin accidentally scared Scratch while in Bear Form and doesn’t know how to explain to the dog that he sometimes turns into a bear b/c then the dog will think all bears are friends. His new strategy is to hide a new bone in camp for Scratch so the dog’s distracted. Withers goes on a rampage b/c again. his tibia. and now a rib. its insulting
-Tavi grew up an urchin in Baldur’s Gate and never had books of her own so Gale watches her read anything she can get her hands on and is definitely completely catching feels (she may be reading the books aloud to the kids at the grove). Except he is anything but normal about it and gets down on one knee and presses her hand against his chest so she can feel the curse. Ya know. As normal well-adjusted people do who haven’t been in a tower without contact from the outside world. Very normal.
-Scratch "I brought you a present! It made me think of you" and proceeds to drop a dead frog in front of Laezel. She's flattered. this furry creature hunted down vermin to show her that he is a useful member of the group.
-Tavi gets eaten alive by mosquitos/bugs the first night in camp and is miserable. She looks like she's got some contagious plague b/c there's spots all over her.
-Gale is the only one who calls her 'Octavia' in private b/c he's just Like That. Sometimes he says it while looking very serious and Tavi certainly Feels A Way about that. and he calls her Octavia while showing her how to do magic, and since their minds/souls are entwined, he feels her Reaction to that, she realizes he felt her emotions, so Tavi is bright red in the face while he stammers out that her thinking of him like that is a Surprise (but a welcome one). She can barely look him in the eye, while he can't look away from her.
-The group completely misses the fact that Gale and Tavi have an undercurrent of Something going on between them b/c Laezel and Shadowheart's rivalry is The Subject of Gossip (Astarion is taking bets on how long until they hate-fuck). Wyll and Karlach have taken bets. Halsin wants nothing to do with it.
-Tavi and Gale fall into the 'white people in a horror movie' category and are 10/10 trusting of Auntie Ethel. Tavi never had a maternal figure in her life, but read a lot of books with them. Auntie Ethel being overbearing reminds Gale of his mother. The rest of the group thinks Ether is Sus. Tavi and Gale think she's a lovely lady who can help them with the tadpole problem up (how can anyone evil live in such an adorable cottage?)
-Gale is absolutely enchanted with all the imperfect mortal things Tavi does. Like being sweaty in Grymforge. the wrinkles around her eyes when she squints in the sun. tangles in her hair. the scar on her cheek and how she doesn't always look enticing and takes a good half-hour to wake up in the morning. He'd forgotten how imperfection can be perfection in its own way. He doesn't feel like an inadequate mortal like he did with Mystra.
-Tavi absolutely adores children and plays hide-n-seek with the tiefling kids in the camp. Laezel 100% joins in b/c she thinks its to teach them tracking and hunting skills. Wyll and Karlach are terrible at hiding (on purpose) and help the younger kids look for the others. Gale is pulled into the game by Tavi and he whispers in her ear "you've made me hide, don't make me come seek you" and Tavi, who has never been on the receiving end of flirts like that, is left speechless b/c how do you even react to that.
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Reality Adjustment, Pt. 3
[[ Discord RP log to follow. This one is a lot of dialogue, and it just gets domestic from here.
Still features themes of unreality and being unable to trust your own perceptions, now includes a brief hospital scene, mentions of cranial surgery and descriptions that may be uncomfortable to some people, amnesia via medical procedure mishap, mention of mind-altering substances and previous, warned-for scenes.
If anything else pops up and I haven't mentioned it, please let me know for revised tagging purposes. ]]
"Simon, wake up!"
"He's still showing erratic theta activity."
"Apply the stabilizer."
"We can't, another dose could kill him!"
"I think he's regaining cognition function. Alpha is up 42%. Beta too."
"Get him out of that thing! We can't afford to lose our most reliable field test operative to a glitch!"
"There was no glitch, everything's reading properly."
"Like hell, I saw that code spike, Alan!"
"Okay, a small glitch."
"He's normalizing. Still showing massive BCS, though."
"Can we treat it?"
"No. Synaptic pathways were scrambled across several CogSec bands."
"You can do this!"
"I'm picking up increased beta and delta, sir, along a … a secondary waveform?"
"Could be a possession."
"No, these systems are hardlocked, after what happened."
"I think I can inload something through the secondary signal!"
"That's gibberish."
"No, I mean, I think we can use this as a backdoor to upload a regenerative neurovirus!"
"I'm still hearing bullshit, Doug."
"Just a little longer!"
"His heart is starting to give out, sir!"
"What!? Why!?"
"He's entered some kind of hyperdream state."
"That's not possible…"
"Who's on his feed!?"
"Nobody, he isn't even on a line anymore! He stabilized, remember!?"
"Somebody tell me what the hell is going on!"
"Please wake up."
His eyes opened, painfully and with much effort. The light was dim and he was wearing only a white hospital gown. Numerous electrodes were connected to his temples, neck, and chest. He was on an IV drip and his head hurt like hell. Simone, wearing a white t-shirt with black short sleeves, and black jeans, with one black shoe with white laces and one white shoe with black laces, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, slept in a chair nearby his bed. She looked to be a little older than he expected, without her maid's outfit on. Otome, wearing a black tuxedo t-shirt, a black leather collar with a silver heart loop hanging from the front, and a black goth-doll skirt with numerous buckles and straps hanging from it, slept next to her. Though silent, Invader Zim was playing on the TV in his private hospital room.
- - - -
Simon tried to sit up, groggy and with a massive headache, while taking in his environment. That- what he thought he remembered hearing briefly- seemed familiar… and there was Otome, and apparently Simone as well, though in much more Consensus-appropriate attire. She was still very cute, if he could be honest with himself.
His right arm lifted to try and feel his left shoulder and hand, assess if there had been any real (Real?) damage from those dreams, before he adjusted himself to be properly sitting up, comfortably, in the hospital bed. He didn't end up in the hospital a lot, so it was kind of scary, and also kind of novel. Was the Union watching him right now? Were they going to send in a doctor or nurse now that he was awake? He didn't want to disturb those girls, yet… and hoped Simone was some kind of shapeshifter, or actual spirit, or something, so that she could be a little cat again at some point.
- - - -
There was, indeed, a male nurse - in white, with the Medical Services badge he could barely manage a vague recollection of for the Union's medical staff, on his left breast and right shoulder. He came in carrying a tablet and stylus, wearing a few items in little pouches on his belt. He, too, seemed concerned about disturbing the girls and kept his voice to a loud whisper.
"Welcome back, Mr. Castor. We thought maybe we'd lost you. We've been monitoring your situation from the station outside… you seem to be doing better. Cognitive function seems to be returning to normal, for the most part. Prognosis is good. Do you feel up to a few minor tests?"
- - - -
"Like I haven't heard that before…" he muttered to himself, in response to the 'we thought maybe we'd lost you'. He hadn't, though.
"I- yeah, I guess. Pretty sure my brain's still really fried, though- I don't remember anything but that 90s sim life, or alternate reality, or whatever the fuck it counts as at this point…" Simon ran a hand through his hair, grimacing at his tender scalp. "But- yeah."
- - - -
The nurse nodded and gently removed various things from Simon's person before helping him to his feet. He even had a walker, in case he needed to lean, and it was helpful. He felt like he hadn't been on his feet in a week. This was also when he learned that he was wearing two gowns, one facing the other, so he was covered thoroughly, rather than bare-assed to the world.
The nurse gave a nod to the girls' sleeping spots and said quietly, "You'll be back before she even knows you were gone. This way."
And he led Simon from the room.
- - - -
Singular she. So the nurse couldn't see one of them. That was fine; better off that way, probably. Simon felt so weak, leaning on that walker, but he couldn't deny the utility of its support, and followed the nurse to where they were going without much comment. Had he eaten anything solid in that time?
Probably not. He was probably as weak, physically, as he felt.
- - - -
The tests were pretty basic… follow the light with your eyes, reflex response, hearing test, check for any signs of partial paralysis, basic cognitive function (point to and name the giraffe, count from one to ten and back, etc). It quickly became apparent that he was being checked for any signs of brain damage, stroke, or other related conditions.
Then they ran into the hard questions….
What year is it?
Who is the president?
What's your mother's name?
What's your wife's name?
What's your address?
Your birthday?
The hard ones.
- - - -
Very hard ones. He based one on the information from his dreams, sparse as it was.
2023?
Dunno.
Took a minute, he didn't know his mom- Michelle, maybe?
He had a wife???
Dunno.
June fifth.
He had told the nurse his brain was still fried in 90s juice.
- - - -
Correct.
Fair enough.
Correct.
No, that was part of the test.
Fair.
Good.
Given that they knew Simon was missing large portions of his memory, he passed with flying colors. He was informed that some of the agents in QDivision were working on a way to bring his brain back up to speed, but that - sadly - any memories he had gained during the incident would remain as if they'd really happened. There wasn't anything more they could do about that (though he did piece together from context that some of the horrifying 'reality-hopping' he'd experienced throughout his 'life' had been the result of numerous psychotropic drugs and emergency processing code used during the incident, that would likely have been interpreted by his brain as radical dream-like departures from the simulation's reality).
He was also informed, with a very gentle 'I'm so sorry, but there's been a complication' tone, that something unexplained about the incident - some quirk of the chemical compounds running through his system, combined with the physical trauma of what he was going through and the circuitry that had been implanted in his cranium prior to their emergency removal (so he had had implants, but didn't anymore) - had somehow caused his right iris to take on a crimson hue that was deeply unnatural looking, and that they'd been unable to correct without a fully cybernetic ocular implant - and they didn't want to put him through any major surgeries right after what happened. Especially since they were still figuring out if the initial error had been the result of the hypercram device or something about his previous cybernetics arrangement interacting with the device in an unexpected way.
Simon was offered a return to his room, a prescription for headache medications and - since the incident had damaged his vision - he'd require glasses or contact lenses from now on… at least until he decided to have the cybersurgery, if he chose to replace the damaged eye and wanted to have both of them replaced.
- - - -
He asked for a mirror to check things out for himself, as the news that he had a naturally bright red eye actually brought a grin to Simon's face. He didn't need any more cybersurgery unless it was to make the other eye BSOD blue. He could handle glasses, given the sim had him using them for most of his life up until this point.
"So… maybe they can get me my native memories back, but otherwise the memories I got from the sleepteaching are permanent. …I don't know if that's a good or bad thing, honestly."
What he did know was that his mind had at least some idea of where he was and what happened, given the initial scenario he woke up in with Otome and Loane and the info he got from their quiet conversation. If any of this was actually happening.
"…You know, they're gonna have to reassign Loane, since I don't know a HIT Mark from a flashy thing anymore."
- - - -
The nurse (or maybe he was a doctor and this was just what MS doctors wore?) checked his tablet for a moment, before saying, "I don't see any loans mentioned for you, agent. You'll have to speak to someone in fiscal for that, I'm afraid."
Interestingly, his natural eye color looked very much like that strong - almost comically so - blue, already.
"I'll put in an inquiry and have someone from there reach out to you, if you like. In the meantime, I'm sure Ms. Otome can bring you up to speed on things like your address and phone number. Just stay at home for a while, no active duty for 30 days, and no reporting in to the office for at least 14 of those, understand? I know you field guys like to stay busy, but your mind needs time to heal and on top of all the psychological trauma, you're also still recovering from a major cranial surgery and cybernetics removal procedure. The fact that you can walk, talk, and know your own name is nothing short of a minor miracle, Mr. Castor."
- - - -
Simon frowned at him not recognizing Agent Loane's presence; that must've been a quirk of some kind, but he still felt the need to ask, "If Loane isn't a name you recognize, do I even have a field partner? …Man."
He shook his head, feeling for the surgical scars or marks that may have been left, with one hand. "I gotta say, a lot of the shit I saw while under was fuckin' weird… Maybe it was just some lady doctor filling Otome in while I was out…"
It didn't explain those fucked up subliminals or the image of Otome as a living blow-up doll, but, well, the Union had a "reasonable" explanation for just about everything, didn't they?
He'd have to keep in mind all of the things he had said to Simone, and thought about during that brief period.
"…Can I get some kind'a manual or something for how cellphones and computers work now?"
- - - -
"I'm sure you'll be able to Google anything like that, as the need arises. YouTube's full of useful stuff, as well, just be careful about scam channels in your feed."
Boy, those were some words.
- - - -
"…Man, I have no idea what you're recommending to me. What happened to Dogpile?"
- - - -
"I don't know of anyone with that code name. Why don't I get you set up with your prescriptions and get you back to your room, so you can get dressed and head on home? Standard Medopticon."
- - - -
Simon frowned harder. "…This is what I meant by needing a goddamn manual. All my info about the internet is a quarter-century out of date."
He grumbled to himself, but relented for the doctor to take him back to the hospital room so that he could dress and go home.
- - - -
He chuckled, "I see what you mean. I'll leave that kind of recuperative therapy to Ms. Otome."
The doctor saw him back to the room, where he found only Otome (Miss Otome?) sleeping in a chair. He was shown where his clothes were, where the bathroom was, and encouraged to take the walker with him, until he felt strong enough to walk and maneuver on his own. He was then left to his own devices and told that the medications and his new glasses (all prescribed based on medical scans) would be waiting for him at the front desk in about fifteen minutes.
After the doctor left the room, a flush came from the restroom and Simone emerged, slicking her hands with sanitizer gel.
When she saw Simon, she lit up and hugged him tightly. "There you are!"
- - - -
Being that he was still in the double-gown and using a walker, Simon was not prepared to hug Simone back- and had actually been a little disappointed when he didn't see her next to Otome, so was relieved when she came out of the bathroom at all. He held her with one hand and tried to take in what she smelled like while she smushed him in a bear hug.
"Hey," he kept his voice low so as not to wake Otome, "…are you real? Or am I talking to a girl only I can see and hear? Be honest with me."
- - - -
She was wearing a smell that mixed …. hand sanitizer… with some kind of light strawberry shampoo and a perfume of some kind - very lightly applied - that smelled a little like candy or cookies or something else edible and sweet. She was about 5'2" to his 6'2", and warm to the touch. She certainly seemed real.
She, too, kept her voice down. "I'm real. Are you real?"
- - - -
He screwed up one side of his mouth at her, skeptical. "The doctor couldn't see you. You came out of the bathroom after he left. That's pretty conspicuous."
Simon held her at arm's length and examined her a little more closely. …Still young, still cute. He reached up and tested a theory by petting her head and then scratching behind her ear like he would have if that kitten were here.
- - - -
She looked confused and blushed a little. "Is… is this… are we… having a moment?"
- - - -
Frownnn. "…No... While I was out, I was hearing your voice while there was this kitten present. She had my eyes and was black and white, kinda like you, so I thought I'd check." He turned from her, shrugging, and hobbled over to his clothes so that he could get dressed in whatever had been given to him, before Otome woke up. He continued talking to Simone, though. "You kept telling me to wake up, and fight them. 'They' were 'in my dreams'." Of course he did air quotes, if only with one hand.
"And then there was the dreamscape where you were a maid on an airship run by a cat."
- - - -
She seemed a little disappointed that they weren't having a moment, but tried - and failed - not to let it show. "Soooo… you dreamed I was a talking cat? And a maid? Or was I a maid with a cat? Or, I guess, a cat wearing a mad suit?"
She blinked as he began to dress, and turned around to face away from him. "So, uh… what about Otome? Do you guys… I mean… did you dream about-- no… do you… do you stroke her ears like that?"
- - - -
He shrugged. "No; Honestly, her whole maid thing kind of weirded me out- she takes it really seriously, and I have no idea what that's about. When she tried to explain it to me, my work partner pulled a gun on the kitten I was holding, so that all kinda went out the window. Didn't really get an explanation, come to think of it."
At least it was casualwear and not his suit. Simon rolled the cuffs of his overlong jeans up to where they were comfortable and out of the way, but when he straightened, he got a little lightheaded and had to hold on to the walker again. Definitely need to eat soon.
"I think it was more like, the cat was symbolic of you or something? And while it was present, I could hear your voice, but it didn't talk per se." He paused to pull a graphic tee-shirt on over his head; he didn't recognize the image on it, but it was probably cool nerd shit regardless. "The airship part was you, with pigtails, in a maid outfit, being a maid for the airship, and the airship captain was a totally different cat. I'm not sure what was up with that, but we had a pretty heavy conversation about heroes and how nobody is gonna do something hard- so if you're inclined to, you gotta do the hard thing, and set the example for everyone else. I had a lot of thoughts about the Union during that conversation."
- - - -
"You uh… have a thing for maids, I think."
She grinned sheepishly. "Was I preeeetty?"
- - - -
The gowns got folded up and placed in whatever counted as a bin for dirty clothing.
"As pretty as you are now. Which is very pretty," he held up a finger with his interjection, tilting it at her slightly for emphasis, "But, you gotta remember, I have no idea what our relationship or anything is right now. You could be my sister, for all I know. So, like, take it easy, maybe?"
Simon was being very flippant about this concept, but, not knowing his relationship to other people was one of the things he hated most about all this reality-hopping.
- - - -
She muttered something under her breath, grumbling about taking it any way she could get it, but it was so soft and quiet, he might not have heard it right.
Otome stirred and woke, looking at the bed, then up at Simon. Her face was one of disbelieving delight and she scrambled to get out of the chair, rushing to hug him very gently. "Simon!! You're awake! You're okay! I knew you'd wake up, I just knew it!"
- - - -
That mumbled comment had his eyebrow raised at her, but when he went to turn around, Otome woke up and caught him with a gentle hug. Simon patted her between her shoulders with one hand, while the other rested on her pink hair.
"I- yeah, sorry, I figured you needed some rest since you were out so hard… Doc's given me the all-clear t'go home, at least? But I'm gonna need prescription glasses again, unless I get my eyes replaced at some point, and I'm not allowed to go in to the office for the next couple weeks. No ops for at least a month, too, even if I do go in. Can't say I'm complaining so far."
- - - -
She grinned and booped his nose very gently, "I like the evil eye. They said you had suffered some kind of retinal damage and it messed up one of your eyes worse than the other, but… I kinda like it. It's very… you." She laid her head on his chest. "You scared me. I thought maybe you'd… I mean, I know you like the cutting edge stuff, but… there's always the risk that you won't come home, you know?"
- - - -
He grinned back, though did feel guilty when she laid against him, letting his grin fade. "I… yeah. Did the docs tell you what to expect…?"
Simon also looked for Simone again, or maybe that kitten, still hoping that he wasn't the only one who could see and interact with her.
- - - -
Simone, whose name he hadn't actually verified yet, was sitting on his hospital bed and playing with the computer thing that monitored him, licking the electrode sucker discs and sticking them to various parts of her forehead and face.
Otome looked up at Simon. "Just that, if you ever woke up, you'd probably be bed ridden for a few days and could have some serious memory loss and some… implanted?…. memories, instead? And that I should take care of you and help you figure things out. They said that you might be stuck in the 90's, in your head. Buuuut…."
She played lightly with his collar as her voice got softer. "… if you're going to be trapped in bed for a few days, I could always… you know… take care of you? I still have that costume… remember the one?"
She absently fidgeted with the metal heart loop on her color.
Behind her, Simone waggled her eyebrows.
- - - -
Simon rolled his eyes at Simone. He did not have a Maid Thing, shut uppppp.
"Well, uh, good news is I'm not bedridden," he began gently, "Bad news is, I definitely do not remember anything about our relationship besides what happened in my crazy dreams." He very carefully extricated her hand from the collar of his shirt. "And I have no idea how my phone or computer work. Because I'm under the impression I was in fact living in the 90s with a totally different life."
Still, he held her hand and her back comfortably. "I also have the feeling that outfit may be service industry oriented, given some of what I dreamt about?"
- - - -
"Well… yes. It's that one maid outfit we got me at Otakon? Wait, you… don't… remember… " She searched his eyes. "Us?"
Simone now had one electrode stuck over each of her closed eyes, seven on her forehead, three on each cheek, one on her chin, and was slurping on the IV's water bag by leaning in to the IV stand with her head tilted up and the line in her mouth, like a gerbil with a sippy cup.
- - - -
If this moment weren't terribly meaningful to Otome, it would have been so dissonant in tone as to make Simon cackle. To his credit, he managed to hide his amused smile at Simone's shenanigans very quickly.
He patted Otome's back and then rubbed it gently. "…No."
"But- while I was out, I woke up in my bedroom a couple different times, and both times you were my really cute and diligent and familiar maid, if that helps at all? I… can guess we were probably in a relationship. Or. Are."
He would let her slip and step away if she needed to.
Simone really acted like a silly kid.
- - - -
Otome swallowed hard and just nodded quietly, letting herself step away. She was doing her best to keep whatever she was feeling under wraps, and was pretty good at it. Simone was slowly pulling things from herself and watching Otome with deep sympathy and sadness in her eyes. She knew exactly how Otome was feeling and how hard it was.
Otome cleared her throat and offered a forced smile. "At least you can teach me how things used to be in the 90's, and I can show you things like Youtube."
- - - -
His eyes held that same amount of sympathy, even if he didn't truly understand either girl's pain. He at least felt really bad for putting them through it, even if he couldn't help it.
"The guys at QDiv are working on a way to get my head caught back up, if it helps… But, yeah- showing me how all the tech works now would be stellar. I think any of my stories would be pretty outdated for you, though."
He rubbed the back of his head, feeling awkward and embarrassed.
- - - -
"Everything about you is outdated right now. Even that red eye. I wore that first, you copycat," popped off Simone, playfully.
Otome, on the other hand, took Simon's hand in hers. "We'll go slow. Until you feel ready… to… find your way back to your life again."
- - - -
Simon pouted at Simone. He didn't even know her when he got his eyes changed to be exactly how he wanted, with the Agency- if that even really happened. He still couldn't be sure. Nobody who wasn't there would be able to corroborate anything that he believed happened… Karl probably would never acknowledge it, and Connor was gone or dead or something, and the Agency didn't exist in this reality at all; he would have to check on HunterNet, at the very least. When he could find it.
Coming back to the possibly-present, Simon rubbed his thumb over Otome's knuckles gently, and he hoped in a way that was comforting for her. He'd have to ask her about Simone's being real when she wasn't still shell-shocked from the realization that he didn't know her at all. "I mean- It'd be great if I could remember," he waved his hand around vaguely, "this! I'd really love to. That's just- I dunno, my egg's all scrambled and overwritten and they've gotta dig through my archived files to try and find a backup of the save that got deleted from my head. But I'm still the same guy, fundamentally, even if I've got different life experience. We… I'm sure it'll be fine."
He didn't do a very good job of sounding convincing.
- - - -
Simone said very softly, hands up as if making a show of backing off, "Sorry, bad time."
Otome visibly tried to take heart from what he said. She really wanted to believe that the worst was over, and that this was a healing process. She took a deep breath and nodded to herself. "One day at a time… two weeks at home might be really good for you. And two more weeks at the office but taking it easy could help, too. Who knows? I can show you how to log in to your private accounts at home. I know at least one of them, you used as a journal. That could help too. And I'll walk you through, like, wifi and different kinds of charge cables and streaming services and stuff. Okay?"
She gripped his hand more tightly. "Let's go home, Simon. There's someone very special who I'm sure has been worried sick about you, and now I get the extremely rare and unique honor of getting to introduce you two to each other for the first time! Not something I ever thought I'd have to do, and it's silly as hell, but… it used to be a very you thing, so…. maybe it'll be good for you. You're the only grown ass man I've ever met who still had an active and ongoing friendship with their imaginary friend."
END SCENE
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calling this DONE because I don't want to look at it anymore. After exploring some of the other potential outcomes in @the-passenger-if I've warmed up to Ever's first ending considerably, although the one (1) thing that disappoints me is that if you're not on good enough terms with Roach you never get to find out Why™. So this was just my attempt to fill that little gap :v
2.8k, Ever and Roach have a nice friendly chat :) Major endgame spoilers, probably don't read if you haven't finished at least one playthrough
--
“Ever?”
He starts, glancing up at Fiama as if he’s only just become aware of her presence. From where she's hovering on the other side of the counter, coffee pot in hand, she arches a single sculpted eyebrow at him as he sits up slightly. "Hm? Sorry, I was a thousand miles away."
That's the understatement of a lifetime. Or overstatement, maybe. It's been eight months and he never once stopped thinking about Luna Ridge. About the feast. About coming the closest to perfect he’d ever been in twenty-six years, the closest to free he’d ever been… just to bounce off the damned portal like a bird hitting a window. Nothing’s felt right since. Nothing ever really felt right here, but he had learned to endure so long as it felt like he’d been moving steadily toward the end of it. Now…
Now there’s that little voice somewhere in the back of his mind telling him the same thing over and over. That was your chance and you missed it.
Fiama eyes him a moment longer, and he tries to smooth away whatever must be showing on his face. “I said are you doing okay? I feel like I’ve seen less and less of you lately, ever since…” She gestures vaguely with the coffee pot, but she won’t say it. There’s still some tiny, reluctant part of her that doesn’t like admitting any of that really happened, that the world extends that far beyond what makes sense. But Ever has no doubt she’s been thinking about it too.
“Oh… yeah I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” Everything is so achingly normal now, he adds internally, and it’s a conscious effort to flash Fiama a light smile instead of the sneer that wants to accompany that thought. That wouldn’t be in character. That’s not how Ever Newman acts. But the little frown settled onto Fiama’s features isn’t going anywhere, and a sidelong glance tells Ever the diner is too empty for her focus to be redirected. He inhales sharply, clears his throat. “It’s just been an adjustment, you know?” he presses on. “We’ve been arranging some renovations to the bakery for Livvy’s sake, and in the meantime I’ve taken on a lot more of the work there to give her a break. It hasn’t left a lot of time for social calls is all.”
It’s a pretty weak lie, and not one that will hold a lot of water if Fiama has even one conversation with Livvy about it–the renovations are real, but in reality Livvy’s adapted admirably to her lost sight and the whole thing has become her pet project. The truth is Ever has been pulling away, avoiding people. The discomfort of having to pour himself back into this body, into this tiny excuse for a life, had deepened pretty quickly into resentment and disgust with every new reassurance that the other survivors of Luna Ridge still trusted him, still loved him, still thought of him as the Ever they had always known. I’m not, he wanted to remind them, I’m not anything that you know, I’m not anything that you could even comprehend. It had been dull to play human when his true existence had been a secret he had to keep. Now, to have that secret out only for the others to continue responding to the human mask after it’s been well and truly shredded… It's hell.
Still, he knows how to use it, and the lie gets exactly the reaction he was angling for. Fiama purses her lips in a sympathetic frown and gives him a slow nod, then leans in to top off his coffee. “Just make sure you’re making time for yourself,” she says softly. “It’s so important especially when you’re also looking after someone else.”
Ever empties three sugar packets into the freshly filled mug and tosses her a smirk. He starts, “speaking from exp-” but the comment dies on his lips when he realizes her attention is fixed on something over his shoulder. In the instant that follows a spark of panic arcs white-hot down his spine, before he can remind himself that there’s no longer anything after him.
Then Fiama straightens and the moment passes. “Sorry,” she chuckles, but her attention is already drifting, scanning the meager crowd in case she’s needed. “That person by the window just looked so familiar for a second.”
The non sequitur is enough to smother Ever’s fear in favor of curiosity, and he twists in his seat to see who she was looking at.
Then he freezes.
They do look different. It’s subtle, not immediately apparent whether anything actually changed or the distance of eight months has made their features seem unfamiliar. Maybe their hair is shorter? Maybe their clothes are new? But it couldn’t be anyone else. If Ever had been naive enough to doubt, it would have evaporated the second they glanced up and the sunlight bounced off those strange honey-gold eyes.
He’s out of his seat and across the floor before he can really even think about what he’s doing. His hands come down on the tabletop with a sharp thwack as he bends down to meet their eye. “If you were half as smart as you like to act,” he growls, “you’d be halfway around the globe right now.”
Roach blinks, then gives him a slow, syrupy smile. “And if you were half as powerful as you like to claim, I don’t think we’d be having this conversation right now, would we?” Ever holds their gaze and grits his teeth, but he isn’t able to offer any kind of rebuttal before they speak again. “What are you going to do, Ever? Are you gonna kill me? Explode my head right here in front of all these lovely people? You could, right?”
Could he? It’s a tempting prospect in spite of the mess it would make. His eyes stay locked onto theirs for another moment as he weighs his options, until a strangely acrid smell hits his nose. He glances down to see the clear coating of the table begin to warp and bubble around his hands, and the sticky tearing sound it makes as he yanks them away makes him wince. His palms feel raw but he crosses his arms without looking at them, takes a deep breath, counts to five inside his head. He never takes his eyes off Roach, and they never waver as they stare back in patient, openly amused silence.
“Why did you come back?” Ever finally asks, once he’s calm enough to be certain his voice will stay respectably level. It’s still dripping with vitriol. “I can’t imagine you thought you would finish the job.”
Roach laughs, sharp and sudden as they ever did. Like the two of them are sharing a long-running joke. “This might be hard to believe but my life doesn’t revolve around you, Ever. I came back to see how Jonny was doing. Because I like him.”
“And I’m supposed to believe it was just a wild coincidence that we crossed paths here?”
“Oh, no.” Roach shrugs. “I did follow you here.” Ever unfolds his arms and moves as if to grab Roach out of the booth before pulling up a split second later, balling his hands into fists at his sides and fixing a withering glare over Roach’s shoulder at nothing in particular. What is he going to do, beat them up in the middle of the diner? He’s fairly certain he has them to thank for the fact that no one has taken notice of this little confrontation yet–a realization that only makes him bristle all the more. “Reconsidering that whole ‘exploding my head’ option?” they purr, reining his attention back in. Then they lean back in the booth, drumming their fingers on the table for a beat before they continue, “so how are you adjusting to life without a Hunter on your tail? I really thought you’d bail when that was all over, imagine my surprise to find you still living out your days in this little dead end of a town.”
“I can’t,” Ever spits, as if Roach should feel stupid for even asking. They don’t even flinch. “Tzr’nekre’s essence wasn’t enough to break free, I had no choice but to shove myself back down into this dimension, into this.” He presses a hand to his chest, then drags it down the fabric of his shirt like he’s trying to rid himself of some distasteful residue. The melted plastic, maybe, and not the ever-clinging concept of humanity. “Now I’m stuck here for-” he grimaces, rolling his eyes up toward the ceiling before snapping them back down to the creature in front of him. “I don’t know. Maybe forever."
Roach pouts. "You seem a little bummed out about that."
"You have no idea what this feels like, Roach, I’m not like you,” Ever bites out, rapidly losing the already shaky grip he had on his own temper. “I'm not small enough to fit in this reality, every second I spend here feels like I had to cut myself down to the right size. And I still remember what I was, I remember how much I had to cut even if I can’t remember what I lost. I can feel the holes.”
Once started, the confession comes tumbling past his lips almost against his will, but then that’s how it always went, didn’t it? All the rage boiling under his skin, all the contempt for humanity and the deep certainty that he deserved more, he deserved respect and deference–Roach was the only one who could begin to understand it. So they were the only one who ever saw the mask slip. Before their betrayal was revealed he had convinced himself that they must be sympathetic, that even if he and they existed in totally different strata, they understood that he was right, that this was unfair. Now as they watch him with a commendably mild expression, one elbow on the table and chin propped up in their hand, he can see the cold glimmer behind their eyes for what it really is and he finally understands. They just think it’s funny.
They blink once, a slow little gesture that might have seemed playful in the past. And they smile. Then at length they finally say, "sit down, Ever. I want to tell you a story."
Something in their tone puts him immediately off balance. They still sound perfectly conversational, but there’s an edge he doesn’t think he’s ever heard before, a knife against his throat telling him this is not an invitation, it’s an order. Something between them, something in the balance of power that had always seemed so obvious and natural, has just fundamentally shifted.
He sits down.
Roach doesn’t immediately start talking again. They shift in their seat, picking idly at the new and unmistakably handprint-shaped blemish on the tabletop as they make a show of looking thoughtful. Just when Ever is about to prompt them to move on, they speak of their own accord. “When this all started you asked me what I was. I wasn’t… entirely honest with you at the time.”
“No kiddi-”
“Don’t interrupt me.”
Ever snaps his mouth shut with a bitter frown. A second passes, and then a bright smile lights up Roach’s features again.
“Before all this, before Earth, I was… immense. Or I was part of something immense,” they begin, only to momentarily hesitate. “I don’t remember exactly… There were millions of us, but we were all one. Like a hive, or like… cells in a single organism. Connected. We existed to feel and learn, to experience as much of all the infinite universes as we could, and we all felt and learned and experienced as one. Knowledge and understanding and sensation gained by one of us instantly passed to all the others. It was… an indescribable existence. We were omniscient.” They hold Ever’s gaze with an intensity he finds unsettling the whole time they’re speaking, and when they pause again he gets a prickling, uneasy feeling that they’re daring him to comment. But they did say not to interrupt, and he keeps his lips pressed firmly together as he leans forward to fold his arms atop the table and wait for them to arrive at their point. Apparently satisfied, they do just that. “Then we started to die. Just winking out, one after another, over and over and over.”
A cold knot of dread settles in the pit of Ever’s stomach as the picture Roach is painting finally comes into focus. “You were being preyed on,” he breathes. Roach simply tilts their head slightly, coaxing him onward to the second half of that revelation. He grimaces. “By me.”
He had never questioned why Roach sold him out. It had seemed obvious, they had made the calculated decision that putting him in the line of fire would give them room to escape. It was a coward’s play.
“Can you imagine what it feels like to die, Ever?” they ask. Still light, still conversational. “Like to fully stop existing, not just come close? I don’t have to, you know? I know exactly what it feels like to be hunted, cornered, consumed, a million times over. I lived those deaths right along with them. And the funny thing is that’s pretty much the last thing I do remember feeling. By the time you were done and I had fallen here on Earth…” they spread their hands out, palms up, on the table. “I couldn’t feel much of anything anymore.”
Ever takes a long, slow breath and holds his silence a little longer. It makes sense. He might try to convince himself that vengefulness is a human trait, assigning too much moral weight to the instinctive actions of his kind… but that doesn’t change the facts. It doesn’t change that he wiped out an entire species simply for daring to challenge his freedom to do as he wished. It doesn’t change that Tzr’nekre followed him to earth just to tear him apart piece by piece for the crime of not dying between its teeth. It doesn’t change that he would like very much to reach across the table and finish what he started.
He closes his eyes, takes one more deep breath, then faces Roach again. “What was the goal, then? In coming back, telling me all this… what do you want from me?”
Roach laughs again, and it’s a much sharper and colder sound now. “Are you for real? Obviously I wanted you dead.”
“Okay well you didn’t get that,” Ever sneers. “So now what?”
“True,” Roach concedes with a shrug. “But if I’m being honest, all this…” they sweep their hands out to encompass the diner around them, “this little private purgatory you’ve built for yourself? it’s probably better than anything I or Tzr’nekre would have come up with.”
That’s not the direction Ever was expecting that to go. He blinks numbly at Roach for a second, then casts a hasty glance around the diner. “What?”
“You said it yourself, you’re stuck here. The one place you least wanted to be, the place you were prepared to sacrifice anything and anyone to leave. Everyone still believes you’re one of them, and you can’t prove otherwise.” Roach casts a glance at Fiama, busying herself with tidying the countertop and entirely unconcerned with Ever’s conversation. “Even the people who know, they still think you care, that you were ready to put yourself in harm’s way for them and not the other way around, and you can’t tell them any different because the one thing you do care about is being liked. You can’t bear the thought of any actual friction in your life so you’ll keep playing the perfect, charming friend and neighbor because you know it’s the closest thing to worship you’ll ever get again.” Roach leans forward, their smile turning to nothing but teeth and sharp edges. “And I for one, really hope you’ve got a long, ordinary, human life ahead of you.”
Ever’s blood runs cold in an instant. He scrambles out of the booth and several paces away from the table before finding the composure to at least pull himself up straight. “I’ll get out,” he declares, and even to his own ear it sounds like he believes it less than he ever did before.
“Maybe so, it’s good to have dreams,” Roach snickers. The look Ever shoots him probably could have curdled milk, but he turns without another word to make his way out of the diner. Not running away. No. Just nothing left to say to someone like Roach.
But it means Roach gets the last word. “But hey, in the meantime,” they call after him, “maybe I’ll see you around!”
#the passenger#the passenger if#the passenger spoilers#ever newman#the end feels a little rushed and messy but sadly my brain started melting out of my ears#anyway Ever sucks..... I hate him ♥#rom fiction
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