#might sit on this wip for a bit and come back to it later

[birdsofpasssage]

[faeyun]

ˋ 𑁍 ⨾ HALF-SMOKED CIGARETTES

the last thing you were expecting when taking a smoke outside was to see someone trying to sneakily cut flowers off your mom’s bushes in the front of your house in the middle of the night—nor were you expecting to become so enamored by him, either. and it seemed that the feeling was completely mutual.

❛ 이희승 𝑥 𝑓!reader ❜ 𓈒𓈒 ❨ 歌 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ❩ 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖾𝖿 ＆ 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝖻𝗈!𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀, 𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝗍𝖻𝖺𝗀!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 (𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗋), 𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗂𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 ＆ 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, ✴︎ 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 ／ 𝘤𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭, 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘷, 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩!𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 (𝘮. 𝘳𝘦𝘤), 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘺𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 (𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢), 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘫𝘰𝘣, 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘦, 𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 (𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺), 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘤𝘶𝘮𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴, 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘬!𝘩𝘦𝘦, 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘺, 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘶𝘱, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𓏸 1O,OOO ╱ 𝓶. list

( 𝓷 )。 a month and a half, a new username, and a new theme later… i am back!!! hello my lovelies, i hope you been well!! (>人<)♡ enjoy this lil fic while i work on some of my bigger wips! lowkey, i don’t like this one that much, but we prevail ... kisses mwah!! ♡♡

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏  ͏ ͏ ͏͏ REBLOGS ◜◡◝ FEEDBACK APPRECIATED!

The cold night air bit at your skin through the thin cardigan you had thrown on minutes prior. It didn’t help that the only thing you had on underneath it was a simple tank top. You curled more into the cushions of the wooden porch swing you sat on, but it gave you no more warmth. Sighing at yourself, you let the smoke curl out from your nose and fill the air around your face. The least you could’ve done before creeping out of the house was put on something warmer than the—also—thin shorts you wore.

It was a rather quiet night, the only other noise coming from the slight wind that picked up here and there and the sound of you taking another drag of the burning cigarette between your fingers. The blackness of the night draped over you like a blanket, giving you slight comfort at the thought of sitting outside alone. Taking another drag of the cigarette, you were pulled out of your thoughts by the soft sounds of grass under the soles of shoes.

Your head turned towards the sound. A blur of black and denim passed in front of you and stopped in front of the beautiful arrangement of hydrangeas and azaleas your Mom had planted in front of your house. You froze in your spot on the porch swing, your cigarette halfway to your parted lips. Heart thumping in your chest, you forced yourself to take a deep inhale of the cool spring air and calm your nerves. 

Little by little, you stood from the porch swing and tried your best for it not to creak as you moved across the porch silently in your mismatched slippers. The blurry figure came more in view as you rounded the column, and if you weren’t so shaken you would’ve laughed.

You let the smoke spiral from the cigarette as you watched some guy cut flowers from the bushes your Mom delicately planted in the front yard. Somehow he hasn’t noticed you practically standing above him, despite his head being on a swivel for potential onlookers. A heap of hydrangeas and azaleas sat next to him as he cut another one off from the bush at an angle. Was he really stealing flowers from your yard right now in the dead of the night?

“Hey!” you called out, making sure not to be too loud that you might accidentally wake your Mom. The flower thief’s eyes darted up to yours in sudden fear. You raised an eyebrow at him, the corner of your lips lifting as you brought the cigarette to your lips and inhaled more smoke into your lungs. He jumped up, stolen flowers in a death grip in one hand and scissors in another, and suddenly came face to face with you. You blew the cigarette smoke in his face.

He took a couple steps back, coughing and waving the smoke away from his face with the hand that held his scissors. They glinted in the moonlight, the metal catching your eye. You chuckled a little to yourself, mainly because you thought that he was actually something to be afraid of at first. Who steals flowers from their next door neighbor?

You gasped, pressing your free hand to your chest in mock fear, “Are you trying to kill me with scissors right now?”

The flower thief looked like a deer caught in headlights. You could see the fear rippling through him like a stone in water as his wide eyes stared at you. He was frozen in his place. “What? What? No! I-I… Uh—”

He looked down to the flowers in his hand with furrowed brows and then held them out towards you. You chuckled again from your place on the porch still, the smile on your face growing as he stumbled over more and more of his words. You took one last drag from the cigarette before dropping the butt to your feet and smothering out the flame with your slipper. The flower thief persisted, continuously cutting himself off, “I was just… You see, it’s—”

You crossed your arms against your chest, trying to seem nonchalant but really trying to mask how cold you were right now, and got a good look at him. If you thought about it, he was pretty cute with his round features. He seemed rather tall—clad in a black oversized zip-up hoodie, loose denim jeans rolled at the bottom to show his funky socks that you couldn't make out that well, and dirty converse that were grass stained.

He must steal your Mom’s flowers a lot.

His brick red hair was disheveled and his wide brown eyes landed on just about anything other than you. “So you’re just a petty thief then, huh? Is that it? You like to steal flowers from poor innocent mothers who break their backs planting them, don’t you?” you ask him, trying not to let the laugh come out through your voice and barely succeeding.

“No!” he exclaimed, shaking his head rapidly with his arm still outstretched. “No… it’s for—I’m… I—”

The flower thief suddenly surged forward towards you and the flowers, making you take a wild step back. He quickly cut another flower from your Mom’s hydrangea and azalea bushes and took off towards his own house. “Sorry!” he threw behind him, giving you one last look.

You ran off the porch and into your yard after him, but stopped yourself short. “What the fuck, dude? Those are my Mom’s flowers!” you shouted in his direction. He threw more apologies at you, but didn’t stop his sprint. You just shook your head at him. Let him keep the flowers if they were so important to him that he had to steal them in the middle of the night.

You finally let out the laugh you were trying so hard to keep in. You tried your hardest to keep it relatively quiet, but knew you didn’t succeed when the neighbor across from you’s light flicked on. Taking off yourself, you darted back onto the porch and towards your front door, flinging it open and hiding yourself within the comfort of your own home.

“I wish you’d stop wearing these beat up shoes,” Heeseung’s Mom said as she examined the outfit he came downstairs in. She still hadn’t told him what he needed to get dressed for so he didn’t put much thought into his outfit. But, seeing how nice she cleaned up in a pretty jewel-toned dress, made him realize that that was a mistake. Heeseung’s Mom sighed in an ‘it’s good enough’ way as her gaze flicked back up to meet her son’s. “And you desperately need better clothes,” she continued, waving her hand in the air at him. “Did you not buy any new ones? Have you just been walking around your dorm and campus in this… questionable attire?”

Heeseung sighed at the way his Mom raised her brows at him in question. He couldn’t tell her that his shoes were so beat up because he’s been dragging them through dirt and along grass. As for his clothes… That was just his style—and he hadn’t thought there was anything wrong with it until now. Heeseung decided to not answer her and instead guide the conversation in a different direction. “You never said where we are going and why it’s so important for me to go with you,” Heeseung asked instead. 

After fiddling with the collar of his faded t-shirt, Heeseung’s Mom smiled up at him. “The neighbors have invited us to dinner! I hear their daughter is also back from college on spring break!” she exclaimed. Heeseung knew his Mom well enough to catch the hint in her words. This was all some elaborate set up to bring him and this poor random girl together, and the neighbors were most likely also part of it.

“Mom—” Heeseung started, but was cut off by his Mom raising a finger, the smile still on her face. 

“From all the stories I’ve heard she’s a nice, sweet girl and I think that the two of you would get along well. Now, go grab your jacket. It’s chilly outside.” Heeseung just sighed, a slight pout forming on his lips as he walked over to the coat closet.

When his Mom was grabbing her own jacket, Heeseung pulled the vase full of hydrangeas and azaleas out from its hiding place and presented it to her turned back. When she turned, her eyes landing on the beautiful display of flowers, she gasped. “For you, Mom,” the smile on Heeseung’s face grew wider with how his Mom’s face lit up.

She took the vase of flowers from his hands, smiling softly down at them. “You are so very sweet! But, don’t think that this is getting you out of this dinner.”

Heeseung groaned as his Mom placed the vase down by the window. Together, they stepped out of the house.

“So which neighbor is it?” Heeseung asked. He looked around at the houses that surrounded him. Heeseung wasn’t that familiar with his neighbors, especially not since he’s been at college, so it really could’ve been anyone. 

Heeseung’s Mom tilted her head towards the house right next to theirs, “The ones right next door! Come on, I don’t want to be late.”

Heeseung froze in place. Surely his Mom meant a different neighbor, right? One where he hasn’t been stealing flowers from every odd night since he came home? Too late his mind was putting together the pieces. The daughter that is back for spring break… That must’ve been you. He couldn’t come face to face with you again after that embarrassing encounter from last night! What if you exposed him? “Maybe we should skip out this time,” Heeseung practically begged.

“Nice try,” his Mom replied, “let's go.” She pushed him in front of her and towards the house. Defeated, Heeseung accepted his fate and crossed the shortcut through the grass to where your front walkway was. He stood behind his Mom hunched over himself—he really didn’t want to be standing on your doorstep right now.

A woman who he could only assume was your Mom opened the door after his knocked, a welcoming and warm smile on her face as she beckoned the both of them inside. Heeseung didn’t hear what your Mom was saying she cooked for dinner tonight, he was too busy scanning the living room for your presence.

Your home looked like any old suburban home in the area. As his Mom and yours began to chat, Heeseung looked around more at the photographs that hung on the wall. There were various photos of you and your Mom at different stages of your life—some where you were at a pool and others where you were holding trophies for an achievement Heeseung couldn’t make out.

His gaze lingered on the photographs that seemed more recent that were in frames along the table by the front door. You looked so different from how he last saw you at dead of night. In the picture, you didn’t have the smudged dark eyeliner around your eyes or the cigarette smoke clouding around you almost like a halo. It was somewhat odd to Heeseung to see you without them.

Heeseung’s name being said lowly caught his ears. He looked to the side to see his Mom and yours chatting in low—but not low enough—voices about the two of you, a please smile on their faces. “I told you he’d be interested!” Heeseung’s Mom whispered, her eyes quickly darting to where he stood, still bent over slightly to get a better look at your picture. “Speaking of, where is your daughter?”

All heads turned to the descending sound of footsteps at the staircase, your arrival coming at the perfect moment. Heeseung couldn’t deny that you were absolutely gorgeous. Your eyes met his and it felt as if time started to move more slowly. As you rounded the stair landing, your Mom rushed towards you and practically pulled you right in front of Heeseung before you could even have the chance to blink. “Honey, come greet our guests,” your Mom says.

You tilt your head at the guy standing before you, barely hearing your Mom give you his name. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes—this was the guy who was stealing flowers from the bushes out front last night! Did he have no shame? Why was in your house having dinner with you and your Mom?

You could, once again, see the barely disguised fear in his wide eyes. Lifting a finger at him, your brows furrowing, you began to speak but was quickly cut off by your Mom beating you to it. “Well, Heeseung’s Mom and I are gonna finish up here in the kitchen. Why don’t the two of you wait on the couch? Get to know each other before we eat dinner?”

It wasn’t like they gave you both a choice. One moment you were seconds from confronting the late-night landscaping larcenist and the next you were shoulder to shoulder on the couch with him while your Moms giggled and scurried off to the kitchen. You both jumped away from each other, and you gave him a glare.

“Listen,” Heeseung started, “I’m really sorry about the flowers. Please don’t tell your Mom! It’s just—I… They’re my Mom’s favorite flowers and they were just so accessible being in your front lawn, I thought it wouldn’t be that big of a deal! You know, shave some off the top and—”

You cut off his rambling by pressing a finger to his lips to silence him. Chuckling a little, you say, “I don’t really care about the flowers. Just… Why in the middle of the night? Why didn’t you just ask for some? I’m sure my Mom could've even given you some seeds or something.”

Heeseung’s stare immediately dropped to your finger still on his lips, to the chipped black nail polish that coated your nails. He could smell the perfume you sprayed on yourself and it briefly clouded his senses with its sweetness. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. His head was completely empty as he dragged his gaze back to you. It took you raising an eyebrow at him for Heeseung to snap back to his senses. “Uh… I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t really think about it,” he finally says, his voice slightly muffled.

You retracted your finger and Heeseung’s lips immediately felt cold without it. Lifting the corner of your lips up at him, you leaned back onto the couch, “I guess I’ll keep your secret, flower thief.” You said it loud enough for your Mom to potentially hear and Heeseung sat up straighter, peering over the couch to where the entrance to your kitchen was. You laughed, and Heeseung looked back at you shaking your head at him. “Don’t worry, they can’t hear us. They’re probably in there, like, planning our wedding or something… You do know this whole dinner is a set up, right?”

Your face grew serious for a moment before you broke out into another laugh. This time, Heeseung joined in. “Yeah, I figured. I wonder what made them put the two of us together.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you asked, an offended look passed across your face. “Were you expecting something else? Am I not up to your standards?”

Heeseung was quick to say that that wasn’t the case, stumbling over his words on how pretty you were and that he wouldn’t mind being with you or even someone like you, before you cut in with another laugh. His heart was racing, but he awkwardly laughed along with you as he brought his hand up to scratch the back of his neck. Heseung was glad that the length of his hair hid how red the tips of his ears no doubt were.

“I’m just fucking with you,” you say, patting his shoulder. “You don’t have to fall over yourself trying to make me feel better.”

Before Heeseung could respond, his Mom poked her head out from the entrance of the kitchen. Behind her, the sound of your Mom’s voice caught both of your attention and you turned around at it, “—come hell or high water! Just you wait, they’ll be together!”

You looked over at him and gave him a wink. A smile pulled at Heeseung’s lips and his gaze lingered on you as you stared at your Moms emerging figures from the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready!” your Mom says, a delighted smile on her lips.

The two of you rose from the couch and made your way to the kitchen to help set out the dishes in the dining room. Each time Heeseung passed you, you made sure to graze your fingers along his bicep or let the fabric of your flannel brush his shoulder. When the two of you were alone in the kitchen, you pulled him down a little so your lips were at his ear and whispered: “Let’s give them something to be excited about.”

Dinner consisted of fake stolen glances and laughing a little too hard at anything Heeseung said. Between the act the two of you were putting you on, Heeseung was trying his absolute hardest to not let his face heat up to the point where everyone at the table could see how red he truly was. You subtly taunted him, bringing up the flower incident in front of your Mom without her putting two and two together.

“Mom,” you spoke, garnering the table’s attention, “I love the flowers you have planted out in front of the house. Don’t you like them too, Heeseung?” You turned to look at Heeseung and suddenly the table’s entire attention was on him.

Heeseung shifted in his chair, the cushion suddenly uncomfortable. He finished chewing, swallowing hard, giving him precious seconds to think before answering. “Y-Yeah—Yes, they’re very beautiful!” Heeseung’s voice came out a little strained, but he hoped that your Mom didn’t think too deeply about it. He glanced at you, raising a brow ever so slightly. What happened to keeping his secret?

You cleared your throat, clearly a tactic to mask your laugh as you hid your smile with your hand. You rested your head on your hand as you looked at him. Heeseung felt the toe of your boot at his ankle, slowly making its way further up his leg and dragging the bottom of his rolled up jeans with it. He shifted in his seat a little again and you smiled a little more, biting your lip.

“My exquisite hydrangeas and azaleas…” your Mom trailed, tsking and shaking her head. “I think we’ve had an uptick in bunnies or something! Every time I go outside to water them and make sure they are doing okay there’s always some that has been chewed off.” You looked over to Heeseung and he looked over to you. You shook your head at your Mom’s words, pretending to be sorrowful. “It’s so strange too! I never see any bunnies around, but I don’t know what else it could be,” your Mom continued.

“Such a shame…” Heeseung’s Mom trailed. He was glad that she didn’t piece together that the flowers he gave her earlier were the exact same flowers that were in front of your house—same color and all. If he was lucky, she must think that he had gotten them from the shop. Heeseung made sure to keep his mouth shut.

Under the table, your foot had traveled all the way up to right below Heeseung’s knee. He was trying his hardest to keep composed, but it was glaringly obvious that something was wrong with him by the way he kept squirming in his seat. His Mom’s eyes flicked over to him in question and Heeseung inhaled deeply. You tilted your head at him in concern, your brows furrowed. “Everything alright, Heeseung?” you asked him, trailing your foot up further.

Heeseung pushed back from the table, his chair scraping along the hardwood floor and making an awfully loud and grating noise. Your foot dropped, and you tried your hardest not to laugh at his reaction. “S-Sorry,” Heeseung spoke, looking around the room. Forks were stopped halfway to mouths and all sound in the air died out. “Uh—Where’s your restroom?” he asks, standing to his feet awkwardly.

“Down that hall and to the left,” you smiled, there was a hint of knowing in your expression that made Heeseung feel even more embarrassed. You rested your head in your hands again, looking up at him. Heeseung apologized again, rushing towards where the restroom was located and adjusting his jeans in the process.

He didn’t understand you. Heeseung thought that when you said to give your Moms something to be excited about, that your actions would be a lot more out in the open. What was the point of teasing him under the table? Did you just want to see him flustered? Maybe that was it.

Heeseung couldn’t stop thinking about your touch—your finger on his lips and the graze of your fingertips on his bicep or the feeling of your knuckles brushing together when you both accidentally reached for the same platter. It was driving him a bit crazy at this point, and it didn’t help that the potential threat of his secret being exposed by you loomed over him. He couldn’t tell if this was all to make your parents happy still and if he was supposed to just play along, or if it had somehow along the way turned into actual flirting. Heeseung turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face.

It was undeniable that you were attractive. Your smudged eyeliner and chipped nails just made Heeseung even more attracted to you. He wouldn’t mind if things between the two of you delved deeper than the surface, if possible. He wanted to ask you what your end-goal was, but he also didn’t want to possibly mess up his chances of getting to know you better. Either way felt like a lose-lose battle to him, and that drove him even more crazy than before.

Heeseung looked at himself in the mirror, the cold droplets of water running down his chin and dripping off his face and into the sink below. Heeseung liked you, that he couldn’t deny anymore.

He cut the water off and dried his face with the hem of his t-shirt. Heeseung took another look at himself in the mirror, sighing softly, before exiting the bathroom and making his way back to the dinner table.

The first thing Heeseung did when getting home from the dinner with you and your Mom was immediately rush up to his room. He pressed his back against the coolness of the wooden door, finally feeling like he was able to breathe fully as he shut his eyes. He stayed there for a moment, just slowly inhaling and exhaling until his body didn’t feel like a livewire anymore.

Heeseung opened his eyes and his gaze fell on the way the moonlight filtered through his still-open blinds. He exhaled again and pushed off the door to go close them. What he wasn’t expecting to see was you. Your window was right across from his and you looked to be getting ready for bed as you moved about your own room, the light from your room flooding outside the panes of your window and onto the side of your house. Heeseung was mesmerized for a moment as he watched you. You were completely oblivious to him, and most likely at the fact that your windows faced each other too. 

Heeseung swallowed hard when you stripped off your shirt right in view of the window for him to see. You turned towards the window and he could see the black bra you wore before you bent down to take off the black denim shorts you had on, leaving you in a matching pair of black panties. Heeseung’s eyes widened. He knew he shouldn’t be watching you get undressed right now, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you either.

You turned your back to him, unclipping your bra and letting it fall to the floor. Heeseung’s breathing picked up and he was so focused on you that he didn’t even notice the growing bulge in his jeans—nor how it was on full display for you too, if you happened to turn back around and look up at your window. Heeseung was glad that the darkness gave him a bit of coverage as he pressed more against his window, taking great care to get a good view from between his blinds. Only when you hooked your thumbs onto the hem of your underwear and began the action of pulling them down your legs did Heeseung finally snap back to his senses and practically fling himself away from the window.

He fell into his desk next to the window, various trinkets and pencils falling off from the surface of it and onto the floor. What was wrong with him? What if you caught him in the act? Heeseung looked down at his pants and the insane boner he had. “Fuck,” he breathed, bringing his hands down his face as he caught his breath. He moved from the desk to his dresser so he could grab some clothes for a shower.

As he stood under the hot stream of the shower, he couldn’t stop his mind from running rampant with thoughts of you. No matter how hard he squeezed his eyes shut, all he saw was you in front of that window, stripping for him. He couldn’t stop himself from conjuring up the image of what he would’ve seen had he stayed for a few seconds longer and watched the black fabric of your underwear fall down the curve of your ass. Heeseung imagined what your tits might’ve looked like when they weren’t below the fabric of your shirt or bra. He jerked himself off faster at the thought.

The stream of water ran down his shoulders and he inhaled sharply, slowing his hand until he was gripping just the tip of his cock. No matter how hard he tried wiping his mind clean, the images just kept appearing. Heeseung cursed under his breath and started to move his hand again, at first starting slowly before he couldn’t pace himself anymore. He was so glad that the sound of the water muffled the mewls spilling from his mouth.

His hand moved hastily, like he couldn’t bring himself to wait any longer, and Heeseung squeezed his eyes shut and pretended that you were in front of him—stripping for him. A gasp left his parted lips and he braced himself with a hand on the tiled wall. In his mind, you were smiling that knowing smile from the dinner and beckoning him forward. And of course, he followed.

It's almost like he could feel your touch still—that it wasn’t his hand fisting his own cock right now, but yours. If he thought about it harder, which he was desperately trying to do, maybe he could even feel your lips around him too. Or, even better… Maybe he could feel the way you wrapped around him until his cock fully disappeared inside of you. The thought brought him over the edge and he fell into the tile in front of him, the stream of hot water suddenly hitting his back.

Heeseung’s cum sprayed all over the front of the tub below him and washed away with the water down the drain. His chest heaved and he forced himself to take deep breaths as he slowly stroked himself to come back down to Earth, more spurts of his cum spilling from him as he emptied himself out completely. Heeseung’s eyes fluttered open finally and he was disappointed to find himself still in the shower. God, what were you doing to him?

He cleaned himself up and left the shower, the feeling of embarrassment and slight shame weighing down his shoulders. After he was dressed and all ready for bed, he checked his window again. Part of him was hopeful that you’d still be standing there—and another part beat himself up over the fact that he was being a creep. Still, he made the short trek to his window to see anyway.

Your light was off and your blinds were closed, much to Heeseung’s disappointment. But, to his surprise, there was a piece of paper with writing on it taped to your window for him to see. On it, the paper read: “Perv” with a smiley face sticking its tongue out next to it in bold, sharpied letters. For a second, Heeseung’s heart dropped. He had been found out and you actually did see him after all. But… Did the note and the smiley face next to your writing mean that you didn’t mind it? Heeseung’s head felt even more clouded, but he couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at his lips.

Maybe the lines between the two of you were getting more and more blurred like he thought. Maybe it wasn’t so surface level and you were flirting with him at the dinner after all, and he was just too stupid to realize. Whatever the case, Heeseung knew that he had to see you again, no matter the cost.

You were back outside at the dead of night again, sitting on your porch swing as you looked out into the vast, dark sky and breathed out cigarette smoke. Some random bottle of wine was at your side, and you occasionally took swigs from it. The alcohol left you hazy, your eyelids weighing heavy the more you drank. It was another quiet night, much to your dismay. You had been coming out the past couple of nights to see if you could catch Heeseung in the act of cutting your Mom’s flowers again, but it's been a few days since you last saw him at the dinner your Mom hosted. If you were being honest, you thought it wouldn’t have taken this long—not with the whole window interaction. You had thought you made your intentions clear, but now you weren’t so sure.

Or, maybe he just didn’t feel the same way you did and was intentionally ghosting you.

You sighed, ready to retire for the night and call it quits before you heard the sound of someone walking near you. Looking up, you scanned the yard and saw the blur of a hoodie. Your face broke out into the slightest smile and you sat up a little straighter, standing from the swing.

“Hey,” you said, your eyes falling on Heeseung’s figure walking up to the stairs of your porch. He jumped, clearly not expecting you to be there, before smiling. You nodded him over to the porch swing you stood in front of and he climbed up the stairs while awkwardly fiddling with the hair at the back of his head. You sat back down and he sat down next to you, close enough that your shoulders touched and your thigh brushed against his. “What are you doing here?” you ask, looking over at him before taking another long drawl of the cigarette. You made sure to blow the smoke away from his face this time. “Here to steal some more flowers, thief?”

Heeseung laughed, waving a hand in the air. “No, I—Uh… I came to talk to you actually.”

You raised a brow at him, curious as to what he wanted to talk about. A chuckle fell from your lips, “Oh, really? About what?” You handed the half empty bottle of wine to him and he graciously took it. You’d offer him a cigarette as well, but he didn’t look like the type to even know how to light it, nevermind smoke it. Heeseung took a large swig from the bottle, thickly swallowing the wine down before he brought it back up to his lips to take another. “Woah… You must need to tell me something serious. Take it easy,” you told him before taking the bottle away.

Heeseung wiped his lips, looking at you with big eyes. He fumbled over his words, nothing coherent coming out. You smiled at him and leaned over to the small table next to the swing to put your cigarette out in the ashtray. “Here, let me start. I have something I want to say, too,” you say.

Raising the bottle to your lips, you drink some more of the wine before clearing your throat to speak. “Listen, I get it if you aren’t looking for something right now. Or-Or, maybe I wasn’t clear on what I wanted? Fuck, I’m so bad at this…” You ran a hand down your face, shaking your head a little. Your brain was already foggy from the alcohol and trying to think right now wasn’t exactly working. “You’re hot, okay? And-And I like you.”

You avoided Heeseung’s gaze, opting to look back out at the sky and the stars. In your peripheral vision, you saw his face change, but couldn’t see to which expression. “And I think that… maybe you like me too?” you continued. You dared to look back at him and your eyes met. Heeseung looked stunned, like he couldn’t believe that those were the words that came out of your mouth and he was actively trying to figure out if he was hearing things or not.

When he was silent for a moment, you quickly stood from the swing, bringing the bottle of wine with you. “Y-You don’t have to say anything. We can finish this talk when it’s daylight,” you rushed out. You moved past him, feet moving quick to get to your front door before Heeseung’s hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you back towards him. In the seconds it took for you to turn to him, his other hand reached up to cup your cheek and his lips pressed to yours.

You stumbled backwards a little, shock flooding you like the breaking of a dam, before you wrapped the arm that wasn’t holding the wine bottle around his neck to pull him closer to you. Your lips moved in perfect sync with his and you melted into the kiss. Heeseung’s other hand snaked up your side and pulled you close to his chest.

You didn’t even think about the fact that you needed to breathe. The only thing that ran through your mind was his soft lips against yours and your bodies pressed together. You wished that the two of you had kissed sooner. You wished that when the two of you sat on that couch together that you had climbed into his lap and brought your lips to his then. What a whole world you were missing out on.

Despite his better judgement, Heeseung was the one to pull away, his breathing falling heavy and his eyes shining. You smiled at him, shy all of a sudden. You didn’t really know what to say, even with Heeseung’s grand display of how he also felt about you. Finally, you settled on, “Do you wanna come inside?”

The two of you laughed, but Heeseung shook his head, his smile lingering. “Next time,” he said. “I want to be completely sober for this. I want us both to be completely sober for this.”

You laughed harder, pulling away from his grasp. He sounded like he was waiting his whole life for this moment and he didn't want anything to potentially taint it. You doubted the alcohol would make much of a difference, especially for him since he barely had any, but you nodded along anyway. “Next time, then,” you say, heading towards the door. “Goodnight, Heeseung.”

“I meant what I said, by the way,” Heeseung called after you. You turned back towards him, confusion written all over your face. He hadn’t said much of anything. And if his large gulps of wine were anything to attest to, you supposed it was from the nerves. “Before dinner, on the couch,” he clarified.

You took a second to think back to that night, to think back on the conversation the two of you had and go back over it in your mind. You came back with your own words: “You don’t have to fall over yourself trying to make me feel better.” You had jokingly said it when he started to ramble on about how he would love to be with you or someone like you. A smile pulled at your lips as realization fell over you.

“I know I was pretty awkward with it, but I was serious,” Heeseung says.

Rushing forward, you bring your lips to his once more, but only for a brief moment before pulling away. With your lips just centimeters from his, you say, “See you next time.” You turn again, heading for the door, and right before going inside you give Heeseung one last look before closing the door completely.

Heeseung is still awestruck that this all even happened, that you actually liked him like he liked you. He truly couldn’t believe it. He was sure that any moment now he would wake up in his bed and it all would’ve been a dream—he even pinched himself on the way from your porch to his house to confirm it for sure. But, it wasn’t. It all really happened, and that made Heeseung light up inside again like no other.

He wanted to jump up and shout from the rooftops and click his heels together. He couldn’t wait to see you again, and he especially couldn’t wait for that “next time” to finally happen.

A knock on the door sounded throughout the house and Heeseung looked towards the door from his spot on the couch where he was lazily flipping through channels on the TV. He wasn’t expecting any company, and his Mom didn’t tell him to expect anyone either. Heeseung raised a brow and he stood to his feet and let the remote fall somewhere on the couch from his hand.

When he pulled the front door open, he surely wasn’t expecting you to be on the other side of it, a big smile on your face as your figure basked in the springtime sunlight. For a moment, Heeseung was stunned. He hadn’t really seen you in the daylight before, as the majority of your encounters had taken place at night. He loved the way the sun made you glow like his very own angel sent to see him.

After the kisses the two of you shared, you both mainly spent time together in the middle of the night outside on your porch swing talking about everything and nothing. The two of you haven’t even kissed again. Everytime Heeseung would lean in and try to kiss you, you let him get as close as a brush against your lips before pulling away teasingly—telling him that “All good things come to those who wait.” He didn’t know how much longer he could—didn’t know what was taking him so long. He was so focused on finding the perfect moment that he seemed to be missing out completely.

It seemed you couldn’t wait much longer either, deciding to take matters into your own hands.

“Hey,” Heeseung smiled at you as he stepped to the side to let you in, “what are you doing here?” You entered his house, taking a brief look around the place before spinning to face him, the smile still on your face. You kicked off your boots and adjusted the leather jacket that you wore. Heeseung shut the door, giving you his full attention.

“It’s next time,” you say, taking a step towards him. Heeseung’s eyes widened, his face surely showing the shock he felt. Did you mean right now? Not that he didn’t want it, but Heeseung didn’t have any time to prepare. He doesn’t even look his best, either. And where were you supposed to do it, here on the couch? What if his Mom walked in?

Heeseung began pulling his shirt off but you grabbed his arms to stop him. “Not right here! Take me up to your room or something!” you exclaimed, looking at him incredulously. You slid your hand in his.

“Right, right,” Heeseung says, laughing awkwardly.

He pulled you with him towards the stairs and up to where his bedroom was, his heart racing with each step he took. Behind him, you giggled at his behavior and how nervous he was to finally sleep with you.

When you got to his room, he let go of your hand to hurriedly dart around his room. He rushed to pick up random shirts and jeans on the floor and shoved them into his closet along with throwing away any garbage that was still on his nightstand. As he cleaned, you walked over to his desk and shrugged off your leather jacket and laid it on top of the back of the desk chair. You turned and watched him, trying to keep your laugh in, as you patiently waited.

When he was finished he rushed up to you, pulling you to him by your waist. “Sorry… I wasn’t expecting you to come over,” Heeseung said, a bit breathless. You smiled at him, leaning forward to press your lips to his. Oh, you’d bet. A girl can only wait for so long—and if you left Heeseung in charge, you would’ve been waiting forever.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s not what I would’ve been paying attention to anyway.” Your hands trailed down Heeseung’s chest to his stomach as you slowly pushed him back towards his bed. He followed your lead, letting you back him up until the back of his knees hit the side of the bed and fell down onto it. He looked up at you with those big eyes, desire swirling inside of them as he hungrily looked over you standing above him.

You slowly stripped off your long-sleeved shirt and let it fall to the ground below you, your dark red bra pushing up your tits. Heeseung sat up further—his hands reaching for you—but you pushed him back down, wiggling a finger at him. “You really know how to make a girl wait,” you tell him, hooking your thumbs into your jeans to pull them down. “I had thought you’d change your mind.”

“Never,” Heeseung breathed as his sweatpants got tighter and tighter the more clothing you took off. There was practically a tent in his pants, and for once he wasn’t ashamed about it. Your jeans fell down to the floor and you kicked off the rest, smirking at him.

“Look familiar?” you ask, referring to him seeing you in just your matching dark red bra and panties. You turned your back to him, unhooking your bra and letting that fall, too, before looking over your shoulder at him. “Maybe this will jog your memory?”

Heeseung’s mind was taken back to that day he watched you strip through the window, his thoughts now finally being confirmed that you did in fact see him. His face completely flushed and he opened his mouth to speak, but only jumbled words came out. You giggled at him, turning to face him again, but Heeseung could only focus on how he finally got to see what your perfect tits looked like. His eyes widened even more.

You grabbed onto the band of his sweatpants, pulling at them to signal Heeseung to lift his hips so you can take them off. “That was a pretty big boner you had that day, don’t you remember?” you ask, your hand trailing over the boner he had currently. Heeseung’s hips jerked from the action. “Let me guess, you immediately ran to the shower, didn’t you? Disguised all of the noise behind the sound of the water?”

With his sweatpants, you had started to pull down Heeseung’s boxers too. They were halfway down his thighs when his cock sprang free out of them, the tip of it flushed and leaking. You didn’t even bother pulling his pants and boxers down further, too impatient to finally get your hands on him. Instead, your hand grabbed his rock-hard cock firmly, slowly stroking it as you leaned forward to press chaste kisses to Heeseung’s lips. Heeseung tried to keep his moans of pleasure down—even trying to kiss you for longer—but you wouldn’t let him. You wanted to hear him.

“I bet you fucked your fist all night and imagined it was me,” you say in a low voice against his lips.

You picked up the pace and Heeseung broke away from your lips, his head falling back as his eyes rolled to the back of his skull. He struggled to keep himself upright—and if you kept pumping him he was sure to cum at any moment. “Nothing…” Heeseung started breathlessly, taking a moment to find his words through his heavy breathing and shallow pants, “Nothing compares to the real thing.”

You stopped stroking him, your hand stopping at his leaking tip and running your thumb along the slit of it. Heeseung moaned loudly, his eyes fluttering open so he could look at you in question. He was so close, why would you stop? Before Heeseung could ask, you pushed at his chest so he laid on his back fully and climbed on top of him. You sat your clothed pussy right on the base of his cock and slowly started to move your hips.

Heeseung desperately wished there wasn’t fabric separating the two of you. He needed to feel you—needed to feel the way you wrapped around him as your arousal got him even more wet. He wanted you to roll your hips against him until you accidentally rolled them a little too much and he slipped inside you. But, you were having none of that. You were going to make him wait, like he had made you wait.

“Yeah?” you asked, your lips smashing against his in a sloppy kiss. His words must’ve ignited something in you because it wasn’t long before you were both moaning into each other’s mouths. Heeseung nodded, his hands coming to rest at your hips to help aid them in moving faster.

Breaking away from his mouth, you placed both hands on his chest, brows furrowed in pleasure as you continued to rock your hips. Your panties were completely soaked through and they stuck to your wet folds as you grinded against Heeseung. You moaned so prettily, the soft sounds escaping through your plump lips, that Heeseung wanted to hear the sound forever. He never wanted you to stop—in fact, he wanted to make you moan louder, have you feel so much bliss that you didn’t even think to muffle your alluring noises by taking your bottom lip between your teeth.

Heeseung’s hands reached up to your chest, taking your tits in them and squeezing. He needed to know what cumming inside you felt like. He needed to know how it felt to see your mixed cum pour out of you from around him as he fucked it back inside of you. His hands settled down at your waist and he flipped you over to where his pillows were at so that you were on your back instead.

You gasped, stunned by the change in position and the sudden lack of friction. Heeseung spread your legs apart so he could get a full view of you. Your dark red panties almost looked black from how soaked they were, and Heeseung wasted no time as he pulled them off—tossing them somewhere towards his dresser so he could remember to steal them later.

He froze for a moment as he looked down at you completely bare for him. Heeseung dropped his fingers towards your folds, smearing around your arousal in a trance. You watched him as you caught your breath, twitching slightly at his touch. It was so lewd how wet you were, with each pass of his fingers it felt like the sound reverberated off the walls of the room. “I can’t believe this…” Heeseung muttered to himself, barely loud enough for you to hear. His words only made you wetter.

Heeseung pulled off the rest of his clothes. He didn’t want any barriers stopping him from being able to feel you completely.

Grabbing his hard cock, Heeseung slid it between your folds, giving you a slight taste of your own medicine as he watched the way your back arched off the mattress. The joke was complete on him, though, because you squeezed your thighs together and trapped his cock with them.

Heeseung’s mouth fell open and you giggled at him. “It won’t be that easy,” you say, sitting up on your elbows. Heeseung groaned but you cut him off by sitting up fully and kissing him. “This is for the flowers, you thief.”

You turned so your back was flat against his chest, his cock between your thighs begging you to give it some release.  You then grabbed Heeseung’s hands and brought them to your tits as you squeezed your thighs together tightly. Heeseung moaned at your ear, his hands squeezing you once again. “You’ll have to get off like this, first,” you told him while pressing your ass to his hips.

You looked down at his big cock between your thighs, at how flushed it was. Every small move Heeseung made drove you crazy because of the way he brushed against your clit. Each touch felt like a shockwave through your body, but you were too stubborn to let it go any other way. “You’re killing me,” Heeseung groaned again. “Haven’t I paid my dues?”

“Not even in the slightest,” you replied, moving away from him a little before pressing your ass back to his hips again so he took the hint. You hummed in pleasure, your gaze flicking towards him. If he wanted to be inside you, he better start moving.

Heeseung’s hands trailed down to your hips and he held you against him tightly as he leaned forward a little to catch your lips. He began using your thighs to fuck himself, his pace starting leisurely before all the pent up desire caught back up with him. Heeseung’s lips never left yours and the kiss only grew more and more sloppy as he pushed his tongue into your mouth to taste you.

You couldn’t hide your moans from him now, even despite them being muffled by his lips. Heeseung had you right where he wanted you and every brush of his cock against your clit made you dizzy, too dazed to notice the tremor in his hips against your ass as he fucked your thighs nor the way his abs tightened against your back. Heeseung only held you tighter to his body, his skin slapping against yours and mixing with the sound of your shared moans.

Soon, Heeseung’s hips jerked and he groaned against your lips. “Fuck, baby, I need to be inside you right now,” he dragged out. “Please. I want to cum inside of you.”

You shook your head at him and squeezed your thighs together tighter. Curses flew from Heeseung’s lips and his pace slowed. “Not yet,” you said, raising your hand to grab his face so you could kiss him again.

A thin layer of sweat coated the both of you and your body felt like if it burned any hotter it might explode. Heeseung had a death grip on your hips, like he was afraid that after he was done fucking your thighs you might change your mind on letting him fuck you fully. He stilled as he pressed you to him tighter, if possible. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—” Heeseung spewed out.

He barely moved from against you, too obsessed with the way you squeezed him to pull away from it. Thick, white ropes of cum gushed from him and coated the front of your thighs. Heeseung kept sloppily fucking you, a sigh releasing from his lips as more of his cum splattered across your lap.

You were dripping down his cock and all of the teasing and waiting you did backfired and was starting to make you desperate. You wasted no time flipping into your back, not even letting Heeseung come down from his high for even a moment. His cock hadn’t even stopped leaking cum—the rest of it dripping along your lower stomach—before you were rubbing it along your needy pussy. “Put it in… Hurry.”

Of course, Heeseung wasn’t going to wait any longer either.

He pushed inside of you, not being able to hold back any of his loud moans as he finally was able to feel what he’s been dreaming of. “You feel so good,” he breathed, bringing his thumb down to rub at your clit.

Heeseung let himself sit inside you for a moment, just really appreciating how amazing you felt wrapped around him—how deep your pussy swallowed him up until he was inside of you completely.  He was pulled back down to Earth by the sound of your whine and the way you rolled  your hips up. The movement sent a wave of pleasure throughout his body and he pressed down on your hips to keep them still without thinking.

“Please move,” you begged him, holding tightly to his wrists.

Heeseung pulled his hips back and watched the way his cock slid out of you covered in your arousal. The sight turned him on so much that he felt like he was going to cum again just from that. He brought his cock out until just the tip of it was still inside of you. Heeseung then wrapped his arms around your thighs, smearing his cum that was still splattered on top of them, while moving your legs to rest on his shoulders.

You were expecting him to start slow and build up to a faster pace, but Heeseung skipped that completely. Instead, he pushed into you completely—the sound of his skin slapping against yours filling your ears—until his hips were flush with yours and pulled out of you again just as quick to repeat the process. You cried out, clawing at the sheets as you were hit with intense euphoria.

His cock didn’t even have to try at hitting your sweet spot, he was already there by just being inside of you. With each thrust he hit it more and more and more until your back was arched up off of the bed and you were seeing stars. “Fuck, right there! Please, don’t stop!” you moaned. You couldn’t even begin to care how loud you were being. All you cared about was how good Heeseung was fucking you.

Heeseung was panting like a dog and not once did he even think of stopping. He was chasing that high he first felt when he jerked himself off to the thought of you in the shower—when he imagined how it would feel to be fucking your pretty little pussy the way he was right now. It was complete heaven, better than that even. His words from earlier rang truer than ever before right now: Nothing compares to the real thing. 

“You like that?” Heeseung asked, his eyes moving up your body from the way your hips rolled up to try to meet his, to the way your tits bounced with each thrust he made, then to the harsh rise and fall of your chest, and finally to the purely fucked out expression on your face. Heeseung’s chest swelled with pride and he couldn’t help but smile. He was making you feel this way—he was causing all of these pretty whines and moans to fall from your parted lips. It was all him.

Your head was way too clouded to even answer him, the sound of your own euphoria drowning his words out. Heeseung knew as much, but that didn’t stop the next words from coming out of his mouth. “Yeah, you like that.”

He was slipping in and out of you so easily, it truly felt like your pussy was made to take his cock—and you were taking him so well. Tears formed in your eyes from all of the pleasure and messed up your already smeared eyeliner until streaks of black were running down your cheeks. Your body tensed and you squeezed down on him, letting Heeseung know you were close before you even had the chance to say anything.

“Keep going… fuck—” you cried. You tried pulling your legs away from Heeseung, but he wrapped his arms around them tighter and held them firm to his chest. You squirmed and pulled at his bedsheets, the euphoric bliss suddenly too overwhelming. Your body started to shake all over, and Heeseung relished in it all.

Seconds later, you're cumming all around his cock—some of it even spilling out from around him and dripping down the curve of your ass. Heeseung moans at the sight and angles one of his arms down so he can run his fingers along your folds, coating the tips of his fingers in the creamy white. You jolt at his touch, gasping. 

It’s not long after until Heeseung’s thrusts get sloppy and his hips start to jerk. He pushes himself inside you completely, stomach tightening as his head falls back and he releases another load of his cum—this time inside of you like he’s been dreaming and begging for. Only when he’s sure that all of his cum is inside you is when he painstakingly starts to move, chasing the last bit of his high. 

Heeseung slowly pulls out of you and watches the way all of the cum he pumped inside of you spills out until it’s forming a puddle beneath where your two bodies connect. “You just made all my dreams come true,” he says awestruck, pushing apart your thighs more so he can see the way your pussy glistens in the sunlight coming from his window. “Every single last one of them.”

You barely have the energy to laugh, but you do. Did Heeseung just basically call you his dream girl?

It catches you off guard when he takes the tip of his cock and scoops up some of the cum that dripped down your ass and pushes himself back inside of you. A loud whine leaves your lips and you press your thighs together. “S-Sorry, I—Uh…” Heeseung mumbles, his mouth falling open with another moan. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this feeling. I need to be inside you forever. Would you let me?”

You rapidly nod, but push at his arms when he starts to move his hips again, slowly pushing in and out of you. “Heeseung,” you whine again. He chuckles a little before pulling his cock out of you completely.

Heeseung leans down so he can sweetly kiss your lips, his hand caressing the side of your face. “Good?” he asked you, a bit shy.

“Amazing,” you reply. “Next time, let’s not wait as long.”

Heeseung perks up at your words, “Next time?” You laugh at him, cupping his face with both of your hands. How can he be this clueless? It was genuinely astonishing. You kiss him.

“Yes, of course there will be a next time.” Heeseung’s face lights up and he gives you the most passionate kiss the two of you have shared yet. You laugh more in the middle of it. He is so adorable, it blows your mind that all of this came from him stealing flowers from in front of your house. “Now go get something to clean me up,” you say.

Realization crosses Heeseung’s face. “Oh, yeah. Right.” He gets up from the bed, still fully naked, and flings his door open to rush to the bathroom. Distantly, you hear water running before he’s back with a wet washcloth in one hand and his other hand tucked behind his back. When you raise an eyebrow, he smiles brightly at you.

“For you,” Heeseung says as he reveals the flower behind his back. Funnily, it’s one of the flowers he stole from your house. You burst out laughing, and he joins you, crawling back on the bed so he can start cleaning you up. You take the flower from his grasp.

“Wow, thank you for the flower that was already technically mine! It’s beautiful. Where did you get it?” you ask. Heeseung looks away, the smile still on his face, as he opts not to answer. You shake your head at him, sitting up so you can bring his lips to yours.

He can steal all of the flowers he wants, as long as he steals your heart next.

✉️ ⦂ there’s a lottienat everywhere for all eyes to see… himbo heeseung with a big dick please come and save me i’m begging

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Doing Time 9

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

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

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

Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.

Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers

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

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

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Sunday mornings are usually those where you wake up restless. It’s the day you work on chores. Yet when you rouse, you only want to sink back into the bed. You could spend all day in the faded afterglow. 

You roll onto your side and squeak. Your thighs are tender. Every bit of you is sensitive to the point of twitching. Even just the touch of the duvet is too much. 

Yet the man who made you feel this way is gone. Your chest tweaks. Is he gone? Was this all just a twisted plot by him? That would make your life so much easier. If this could just be a fantasy, 

“Sweetheart,” Steve’s drawl makes you tense. 

You lift your head and look at the door. He fills the frame easily. He’s in a pair of grey boxers and nothing else. His muscle-forged shoulders are round and firm, his middle thick and padded too. You can see all the strength you felt the night before. 

You sit up and hug the top of the blanket. You look around. “What time is it?” 

“Take your time,” he assures. “I was just looking in on you.” 

“Oh,” you rub your neck. “I-- I should--” you search for anything to cover yourself. “Get up.” 

You turn your legs over the side of the bed and keep the duvet up. He hums. “You don’t gotta.” 

“I do. I have to get the laundry. The dishes. And groceries--” 

“Laundry’s folded, waiting in a basket. I did the dishes. And we can grab groceries later.” 

You blink at him, “huh? No, you didn’t--” 

“You know, being locked up, the little things, they’re almost fun these days. I don’t got some guard glaring at me or barking at me for standing the wrong way,” he chuckles and crosses the room. “Besides, you don’t need to worry about all that. We got a road trip.” 

“A road...trip?” You echo. 

He sits next to you and caresses your bare shoulder, “mhmm. As much as I’d like to stay in bed all day.” 

You squeeze the blanket tighter and blush. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Going to see your brother. Like mom said we should.” 

“What?” You wince. “No, I’ll go. You don’t have to--” 

“I don’t have to. I want to. We’re together now.” 

You gulp and lean away from him. You stand up and brush by him. You take your robe off the dresser and open it. Before you can pull it on, there’s a tug on the other end. 

“Why’re you running?” He yanks until you face him. 

“I’m not,” you angle it in front of your body as best as you can. 

“You’re hiding--” 

“I’m cold--” 

“You could’ve stayed under the blankets--” 

“Steve,” you tug until he lets go. You wrap yourself up. The robe smells like him too. “You shouldn’t... come yet. It’s just Vaughn, he can be...” 

“A brat. Oh I know it. It’s why you’re lucky I was there to watch over him. But what about now?” 

You search his face. “You don’t think...” 

“I’m just saying. I was in there. He wasn’t making any friends.” 

“Steve,” you gasp. 

“I can’t lie to you, baby.” He puts his hands on your arms. “Not ever. Your brother needs a heavy boot to keep him in place. I might not be inside but I still got connects on the inside. And he needs to see that I still got his back so he stays in line. Make sure he gets out one day. I’d like our kids to know their uncle--” 

You choke. Kids? That’s not an argument for today. Hopefully, it never truly comes to a head. 

“I didn’t... I don’t have an appointment,” you say. 

“I do. Special request for a family meeting. The two of us.” 

“What? He’s not—He's not going to like that.” 

“He’s going to like what I’m tell him too,” Steve’s voice deepens and he brings a hand to your chin. “He should like whatever makes his sister happy. Especially after all you’ve done for him. And if he isn’t, well, then, I guess he’s on his own.” 

“It’s just—he's—he's just very--” 

“He needs to grow up. You go out there and see him and he doesn’t appreciate that. Well he’s going to start or he’s not going to see you anymore. You got a life to live here. With me.” He pets your cheek with his knuckles. “And I spent enough of mine behind bars. I’m not waiting any longer.” 

He steps closer and leans it, drawing you to him. You don’t stop him. You know better. He kisses you as you close your eyes, hiding the anxiety brewing in your heart. You have a bad feeling about this. 

💙

You’ve only ever gone to the prison alone. Being with Steve feels strange for several reasons. He keeps your hand in his as you step inside the visitors’ entrance and approach the front desk with its thick plexiglass windows. 

He lets you go to take out his wallet. You glance around as you sense the gazes of several guards. Even out of his prison garb, they must recognise him. As ever, his blond and silver hair is tidily combed and parted. He wears a blue-grey short-sleeve button up and a pair of grey slacks. The sleeves are tight around his biceps and a gold watch flashes on his wrist. 

You take out your ID and hand it over with his. You swelter in the judgment of the errant eyes around you. What must they think? You show up here with a former inmate... He might have been acquitted on appeal but how much do they know about that? 

“Step over on the x’s,” the woman directs. “Officers will search you and escort you in.” 

You follow her instructions. The officers sweep over you quickly but you notice the extra attention they give to Steve. He chuckles. 

“Miss me?” He asks. 

One of the officers clucks. 

“Outside’s treating you well,” the one feeling him up turns his wrist to admire the watch. 

“Well, you know, I got a good bag for the settlement. False convictions are a cash grab,” Steve scoff, “low pay for time done, though.” 

The officer huffs with a hint of doubt. 

“Alright, go in,” he points down the hall. “They’ll get you seated.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Steve salutes him and reaches for you. “Come on, sweetheart.” 

You let him drag you down the hall to the visitors’ room. Another officer greets you and checks his clipboard. He takes you to a spot at the desk with two seats and two receivers. The chair on the other side of the transparent barrier is empty. 

You fidget as you wait, staring at the white seat across from you. What will Vaughn think? What will he do? The last question worries you most. 

“Damn, I’m just thinking about the days it was me over there,” Steve chuckles and puts his hand on the back of your chair. “We’re you this nervous then? I could never tell.” 

You shrug. 

“I can tell you now. I counted down the days. I’d be on my cell bed, sat all pretty and patient for you, ‘til they sent one of these bozos to get me,” he sighs and slaps his thigh. “I can’t hardly believe I’m sitting right next to you now.” 

He plays with your sleeve. He leans over and kisses your other shoulder. You shiver and twine your fingers together tightly in your lap. 

You wince as a door shuts with a muffled thunk. You sit up as you sense the approach on the other side. Vaughn drags his feet between two guards and stops behind the chair. He snorts. 

You can’t hear through the glass as his face twists. He tenses and the guards struggle with him. You stare at him as his eyes scour you venomously, then flick over Steve. His lip curls and he tries to shake off the guards. They finally get him to sit. 

Steve clicks his tongue and sits forward, bend one arm over the table. He chuckles as he picks up the receiver. Vaughn crosses his arms and squares his jaw defiantly. You hesitate but lift your receiver too. 

Steve points through the glass. Vaughn sneers. Steve leans forward and taps the glass. Your brother rolls his eyes then reaches for the phone. The guards cautiously back off. 

“What the fuck is this--” 

“You watch your mouth,” Steve warns. “We came all this way. The first thing you can start with is thanking your sister for being here and telling her how much you love her.” 

“Fuck off, pal.” 

Steve laughs. A dark rumble that unsettles you. You’ve never heard that from him. He gets an edge now and again, the kind that makes you nervous, but this is something more dangerous. 

“I’m giving you another chance to show some respect,” Steve warns. “So clean up the language and thank your sister.” 

“You fucking him?” Vaughn sets his sight on you. 

“Vaughn, please, settle down.” You plead 

“Huh? Is that it? How the fuck did that happen? I mean--” He snarls against the phone. “I love you, sis, but I got nothing but this for a slut.” 

He swallows and spits at the glass. Steve bristles and squeezes the receiver tight. You look over as his knuckles turn white. He leans forward. 

“Last fucking chance. Apologise--” 

“Fuck you, dude. You’re out. You got nothing in here. You run shit. So I’ma say what I want to my sister and you’re going to sit there like an old decrepit man and choke--” 

“You’re walking the line,” Steve is terrifying calm. 

“Me? Me?! You’re fucking my sister--” 

“I’m gonna marry your sister. I’m a man. Unlike you.” Steve insists. 

“Marry?!” Vaughn erupts.  

He stands and gnashes his teeth. He slams the receiver against the glass. You drop yours and sit back as he hammers at the barrier until the phone breaks in his hands. The guards grab him and drag him off away from the table. 

Steve is unfazed. He watches the tantrum. You stare at the pieces of the broken receiver as the cable hangs limply. Vaughn kicks and writhes as he’s wrestled to the door. 

Steve hangs up the phone. “Ungrateful.” 

“Steve, you should’ve let me speak--” 

“And what? Let him call you a slut?” 

“I could’ve talked to him. You didn’t let me--” 

“I’m not letting anyone disrespect my woman,” he stands up. “Not even your brother. You understand me?” 

“Steve, I understand, but he’s my family--” 

“You don’t get it sweetheart,” he takes your hand and tugs you up. “You need me. You don’t take care of yourself like you should. You let them walk right over you. Well, that’s not happening anymore.” 

You get up and sniff. “I’ll come back on my own. I’ll talk to him--” 

“You’re not coming back. He can deal with consequences.” 

“Steve.” 

He squeezes your hand. You quiet. He doesn’t let up as he drags you from the room. You pass the guards with your head down. He doesn’t stop at the front desk as he marches you out. 

Finally, he stops. Right by his car. He puts his hand on the passenger door and faces you. 

“Get one more thing, doll. You don’t argue with me like that. Especially in front of other men.” 

Your mouth falls open, “I wasn’t--” 

“You were,” he puts his other hand on his hip. “I’d do anything for you but I need you to meet me halfway, got it? We’re a unit so you stand by me. Your brother wants to act like a child, so let him mope like one. He spit in your face and you’re going to take it? Nah. Not my woman.” 

“He’s upset--” 

“You’re too soft. I love that about you but it’s no good,” he tuts. He stands straight and opens the passenger door. “Come on. We got business to take care of.” 

You get in, hiding your confusion and chagrin. You knew it would go about as well as it did. So did Steve. He's not stupid. And he’s not telling you everything, not like he said he would. This business... what exactly is that? 

You would ask but you’re not sure you’d get an answer. Knowing won’t do anything to change whatever he has planned. Just like you can’t do much to stop all those big dreams of his; wife, kids... you’re caught in the whirlwind of his lost years. 

[tlbodine]

Stuck? Try junebugging.

I don't know who needs to hear this, but we're 5 days into nanowrimo so maybe this will be helpful.

Do you want the safety and surety of knowing what happens next in your story but can't stick to an outline? Does knowing in advance what will happen suck the joy out of discovery writing? Do you try to wing it through plots but get tangled in plot holes or have a story that runs out of steam because you can't figure out what went wrong? Are you at your most creative when you have a little bit of guidance? Do you tend to under-write? Do you get ideas in your head for random scenes and snippets that drop from the sky without context?

If any of these apply to you, junebugging a draft might be for you!

What Is Junebugging?

Since you're on Tumblr, you might already be familiar with the concept of junebugging as it relates to cleaning. If not -- I think the idea was first introduced to me by @jumpingjacktrash.

The basic idea is that you tackle cleaning by way of controlled chaos. You pick a specific area you want to focus on, like your kitchen sink, and then wander off to deal with other things as they occur to you, but always returning back to that area. You end up cleaning a little bit at a time in an order that may not make sense to an outsider but which keeps you from getting overwhelmed and discouraged.

How Does Junebugging Work in Writing?

OK, so that's great, but how does this work with writing? Well. In my case, the general idea is to jump between writing linearly, outlining, and writing out of order. It usually looks something like:

Start free-writing a scene, feeling my way through it and enjoying the discovery process.

Thinking, ok, now I have this scene, did anything need to happen to lead up to it? Do I need to go back and add some foreshadowing? Does this scene set anything up that needs to be paid off? And then jump forward/back to make those adjustments.

I'll usually have a bunch of disconnected ideas of ideas that have popped into my head, so I'll write those down in a list somewhere and then try to figure out what goes in between them and what order it goes in.

I'll write what I call "micro-scenes" which is where I'll just sketch out a few essential elements of what's going on without worrying too much about details, description, etc. -- just he did this, she said that, the setting was this, real bare-bones script. Then I can come back through and flesh out each of those microscenes into an actual scene later.

Got a story that has a complex structure? No problem. Write through each storyline one at a time and then chop them up and weave them together afterward. Write all the B plot scenes first then come back through to do A plot and C plot. Move the pieces around like legos. No one ever has to know.

This method works for me because I can't "decide" story elements in advance. I have never been able to just sit down and "figure out" what happens in a story beyond a couple steps ahead -- I have to discovery-write my way forward. But at the same time, that gets really daunting. So I zoom forward with micro-scenes, roughing out the beats in the most bare-bones way possible, then when I run out of clear vision for what happens next I backtrack, flesh out those scenes, build in connective tissue, etc. and by then I will probably find more inspiration to jump forward.

It's basically folding drafting, outlining, and revising all together into a single phase of writing, which is chaotic and goes against everything people teach you, but if it works? then it fuckin works.

Anyway, sorry for the jumbled-up post, I'm dashing this off quickly while I heat up a pizza and I'm about to dive back into my WIP -- but I hope this was a little helpful. If nothing else, take this as my blanket permission that it's 100% OK to jump around, write out of order, write messy, outline sometimes, pants sometimes, and do whatever else it takes just to get through the story. You've got this. Good luck.

[sandboxwritings]

you know what its late and im too tired to think of words anymore so im just gonna post this wip here and go to bed

enjoy!

If there was one thing that was not on Grian's New Years' bingo card it would be growing wings. In fact, if anyone had so much as suggested it as a possibility to him he would have laughed them off, assuming it was the prelude to some strange prank. And yet, here he was two weeks into the new year with what were undoubtedly wings sprouting to either side of his spine, connecting to his shoulder blades in a way that they should not be able to.

That wasn't the only strange thing happening to him either. For one, he's lighter. Not in a diet-culture-fad or hitting the gym to meet that New Year's resolution that'll fade out in a month or so, he is just literally lighter. Less dense? Like the amount of physical space he takes up is the same but his mass is…less? Now, Grian is far from an ornithologist but he was able to quickly learn that bird bones are hollow and he does not like the implications that has for him and his new feathered existence. It does, however, mean he can jump higher, which is kind of fun to test out whenever he's taking the lift to and from his apartment unit.

It also means he's a bit more fragile than he's used to being.

Now, one might be asking, shouldn't a person who has strange growths go see a doctor immediately? And the answer is yes! Of course, and in Grian's defense, he did do that! It's not his fault that the hospital was overflowing with people at the time, most of which were in much more dire straits than he himself was and so he elected to turn around and go home. He would just go back. . . later. Eventually. He swore he would. Maybe.

Surely it would resolve itself.

That was ten days ago, before Grian's new wings had become more distinct and feathered and had only barely been strange misshapen lumps on his back. And in those ten days the entire world had changed.

An emergency notice had been sent out across the city, played on every news broadcast in the district, an alert sent to every cell phone registered to the local area code. Some strange bacteria had been discovered in the water ducts that fed into every reservoir across Hermitopia and it should be avoided at all costs. Citizens were instructed to limit skin exposure and refrain from drinking any sources of unsealed water. Stations were set up across the city to provide clean, filtered water in the meantime while the contamination was dealt with.

It was too little, far too late.

While Hermitopia was effectively put on mass lockdown, Grian's wings continued to fill out. He was almost glad for the shelter in place orders as it meant no one saw the process of his strange, wrinkly-skinned chicken wings double in size day after day. No one saw him nearly scratching the things bloody while the pin feathers grew in. No one was there to see him standing in the middle of his living room and struggling to activate muscles that hadn't existed days ago. No one else was there to look on in awe as he finally stretched both fully feathered wings out for the first time, touching wingtips to diagonal corners of the room.

Just over three weeks into the New Year, Hermitopia holds a press conference. It plays on every device from the heart of downtown to three cities over. As many have already come to realize, the contamination was more than simple bacteria in the water. It was a chemical agent, a biohazard, that was capable of adapting to and changing different forms of matter. Particularly, it changed living matter down to the DNA. Irrevocably.

The city weeps. There is fear and panic. Questions fly about what this means, what comes next, what do we do? Social media forums explode with speculation and rumors. Friends and family hold one another close amidst the chaos of a changing world.

Grian turns off his phone, sits outside on his tiny balcony, and looks at the stars. He feels the wind ruffle his feathers, feels the way it tugs at his skin, pulls him toward the edge. He flexes new muscles that support new, fragile bones.

Spreads his wings.

They say there's no better way to learn to fly. . . right?

And he jumps.

[ladytauria]

[jaytim] baby bird ?

this wip is really old!! i started writing this one i think before or just after i started working on script: flipped, my first (& mostly gen) reverse robins au.

it’s not abandoned necessarily but i haven’t worked on it in agesssss

anyway, its the classic plot of ‘tim finds out ra’s has used his dna to make a baby and, well. he has a baby now uhoh’

Six hours later, at eleven in the morning, Jason lets himself into the Monarch. In one hand, he holds a to-go cup of coffee from Tim’s favorite cafe. In the other, he has a bag containing a breakfast sandwich. He’s pretty sure the coffee will purchase him at least five minutes of Tim’s time before he gets thrown out if Tim is feeling secretive. The sandwich is just because he doubts Tim’s eaten since he got back.

He finds Tim on the couch.

Tim starts at the sight of him, banging his leg on the coffee table, one hand shooting out to catch his laptop before it goes tumbling to the floor. “Jason!” Tim’s voice is just shy of a yelp. “What are you doing here?” He sets the laptop onto the coffee table, and shoots to his feet.

Definitely not suspicious.

Jason holds out the coffee cup. “Hadn’t seen you in a bit. Thought I’d drop in.” Jason’s voice is chipper. Cheerful. “I also brought food.”

Tim stares longingly at the coffee and—after a moment—snatches both it and the bag from Jason’s hands.

Jason plops into a chair adjacent from the couch. “So, are you workin’ a case?”

“...something like that,” Tim mutters, downing the coffee like it was water and he was a man dying of thirst. He doesn’t come up for air until he’s guzzled at least half the drink by Jason’s estimation. Then, he opens the bag and tears into the sandwich. He’s midway through his third bite when he says, “So, what’d you need, anyway?”

Or. Well. That’s what Jason thinks he says. It’s a bit garbled, given the food stuffed in his mouth.

Jason is kind enough to ignore it. “Like I said,” Jason repeats. “I just wanted to check in. Hadn’t seen you on the streets in a bit and got a little worried, s’all.”

For whatever reason, Tim flushes. “Oh. Um. Well. I’m fine, as you can see.” He gestures.

Jason nods at him. “Uh-huh. Sure. But, now that I’m here, I’m curious. What exactly have you been doing?”

Tim takes another bite of his sandwich in lieu of answering. Jason can see the wheels of his brain turning, putting together an excuse. He narrows his eyes.

Tim lies to Batman, and gets away with it, on the reg. Whatever he says, it’s going to be plausible. If it was any other day, he might even have evidence to back it up... but this time, he hasn’t thought that far ahead—which means he’s going to lie to Jason, and Jason is going to know it’s a lie.

The question is: how hard does he press?

Tim swallows. He opens his mouth to answer, but, before he can get the words out he’s cut off by... something that sounds suspiciously like an infant’s wail.

Tim stiffens.

Jason stares.

Blinks.

“Tim,” he says slowly. “Is that a fucking baby?”

Tim winces. “...I can explain.” The cry continues, growing steadily louder. “In a second.” He drops the half-eaten sandwich onto the empty bag and then darts off towards the sound. He returns with a baby, what the fuck, wrapped in a red blanket.

The child is tiny, fitting neatly in the crook of Tim’s arms as he goes into the kitchen. Tim gets a pre-prepared bottle from the fridge and nukes it. He tests the liquid on his wrist in a motion that was sure, but unpracticed, before guiding the nipple into the infant’s mouth. The cries quiet immediately as the baby latches on, drinking almost as greedily as Tim had earlier.

Tim returns to the couch, sitting opposite Jason again. He leans back against the cushions with a heaving sigh.

Jason can’t help the way he stares at the baby. It’s eyes are half closed; tiny little hands pressed against the bottle, kneading against the hard plastic. Tim’s free hand supports its head; his thumb stroking through the feathery hair.

[curious about my wips? send me an ask about one of the ones on this list]

[umbracirrus]

WIP Wednesday!!

I left my WIP up to a poll today and at the time I checked, Elyse actually trying to communicate won over the dragon fight, so that's what I'm going to post! :) I might post the dragon stuff later this week or next week.

Tagged by @skyrim-forever @pocket-vvardvark and @madam-whim!! Thank you! I'm going to tag @hircines-hunter @friend-of-giants @oblivions-dawn @illumiera and anyone who wants to share a WIP, though as usual don't feel obligated <3

------

Elyse paced back and forth as she took a few deep breaths outside Balgruuf’s study. She needed to talk to him. It had been on her mind for days now, ever since that brief conversation outside the palace. It was beginning to consume her thoughts almost entirely… and she needed to know. How did he feel about her? Truly?

It almost felt like a childish notion in comparison to everything else which was going on, but she simply couldn’t focus on anything else. People were starting to ask if she was sleeping well from how often she had fallen into a spiral of thoughts which left her staring into nothingness, which was a welcome break from the “how are you feeling?” questions after the incident with Korir, but starting to become a bit too frequent for her liking.

Thankfully, after checking with Proventus when she had decided that enough was enough and that she needed answers for it all, she had found that he had an open hour that morning where he would be in his study. And that was all she needed – a moment alone with him to ask. She knew that she needed to brace herself for whatever his answer would be – whether her feelings were reciprocal or not – and she needed to not fumble on her words when she was to ask.

After another few deep breaths, she rapped her knuckles against the door, and upon being told that she could enter, she counted to four, exhaled, then entered the room.

Balgruuf was simply sat at his desk, a small but neat stack of unopened letters beside a somewhat messier pile of creased and unfolded documents, a quill in his hand, and a bottle of Colovian brandy alongside an empty glass. He looked to have been taking advantage of the quiet time to read and respond to all the correspondence.

“Elyse… is everything okay?” He returned his quill to the inkwell, his brow creasing up in worry. “I wasn’t expecting anyone at this time. Has something happened?”

“Oh, no! No, nothing has happened. I just wanted to talk to you about something, and Proventus said that you should be available. It’s… It’s something personal after our conversation the other day.” Her breath caught at the back of her throat. “I can come back at another time if it works better for you though…?”

Balgruuf reached out for the bottle of brandy and poured himself some, then took a sip as he gestured for her to sit down. “Do not worry, now is fine. Take a seat, I will try to be as open as I can.”

She nodded, then sat down on the chair. It was usually a comfortable seat, but for once, it felt strangely… opposite. She figured it was down to the nerves which were chittering away at the back of her mind.

“What is it that you wanted to talk about?”

"So… A few days ago, we were talking about your past relationships, right?”

He made an affirmative noise as he placed his glass down.

“Well, I… a thought crossed my mind about something that you said after we returned indoors.” She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, bracing herself once more for what she wanted to say. “I asked if you were waiting for the right person, and you said-!”

[itwasthereaminuteago]

Just some Dom Frank smut that I've had in my wips for ages 😊

Frank Castle x female reader (with some Billy Russo x reader at the very beginning)

You've got a friends-with-benefits thing going on with Billy and realise you have a little kink which he's not really into, but he has a solution...

Warnings: choking kink, praise, pet names, p in v sex, teasing, begging. Please reblog if you enjoyed so that others may do the same! Please! Thank you 😊

Billy is fucking you hard, driving himself deeper and deeper with every punishing, sinful thrust of his hips, making you lose yourself almost completely. He brings his hand up to caress the side of your face and you arch into his touch as he skims it down the side of your neck to your chest where he pinches and teases your nipples. He grins wickedly, diving down mouthing and grazing his teeth over the plush skin of your tits as you moan. You grasp for his wrist, dragging his hand back up to your neck, whimpering as you can feel your peak drawing ever closer when his fingertips brush over your throat.

But Billy gently draws his hand away. "Scotch." He says. His safeword.

Your eyes widen as the word hits your ears and you try to calm your breathing as you both slow down and come to a stop.

"Oh Billy, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay, kitten." He replies, carefully pulling out and laying down beside you. "I guess we never covered that particular area." He smiles but you still feel awful for trying to get him to do something to you that he isn't entirely comfortable with.

"I- I didn't really know I liked it, until just then… but I'm still sorry, I should have asked you first regardless."

“It's alright, don't worry about it. But hey, I'm glad you've discovered a new kink!" You share a smile as he cuddles you into his arms and kisses you sweetly.

You and Billy had been friends with benefits for a few months now. You were both currently single and relished the opportunity to cut almost completely loose with each other. You found each other attractive, had a lot of fun, and most importantly it was a much-needed tension release after a stressful work day where you just wanted someone else to take control and make you feel good.

Later on that evening he came to you with an unexpected proposal.

"I feel so shitty about leaving you hanging like that before, so I was wondering if you might be cool with me setting you up with a good friend of mine. I think he'd be able to give you what you need, maybe a little bit more than I can?”

You look up from your phone, rapt and curious at the suggestion. "Billy, are you for real? You'd really do that for me?"

He looks surprised that you'd think he wouldn't. "’course I will baby, I just want to see you happy! If you like I'll tell him all your preferences. He'll only go as hard as you want, and you can play here at my place if it makes you feel safer. I'd be there in the next room if you needed me, but Frank's a good guy, he'll take good care of you I promise."

You sit up straighter at the mention of Frank's name. "Wait, it's Frank? You mean your marine buddy Frank?! I didn't know he was into–"

Billy chuckles. "Yeah, not many do. But you like him,” Billy smirks as he teases you, “don't you?"

You give him a sly smile back, he's not wrong. "Well, from what I've seen…" you murmur, thinking about the few times you'd briefly met, once when you went to meet Billy at the gym and Frank came striding out of the showers, shirtless. And then there was the size of his hands…

Billy laughs even louder seeing a dreamy expression cross over your features. "Alright now kitten, don't get all fired up just yet. I'll go see him tomorrow and we'll talk it over okay? See what he says."

You leap into Billy's arms. "You are much too good to me Russo! You know that?"

He nods and kisses the top of your head, still amused. "Yeah, I know."

Frank was apparently very eager to help you out and so Billy arranged a little introductory session for you both at his on the Friday night. Billy had clued you in on what Frank was into as you'd wanted to know, even though this was primarily for your benefit.

"-and you call him 'Sir', yeah?"

You nod. You were melting already.

"Hey girl, think you got a lil bit of drool hanging out the corner of your mouth there…" Billy laughs and you give him a playful punch.

"Shut up! I'm just… a little excited."

"Oh, you should be, baby." You can't help notice Billy's slightly wistful look as he says it. "You're in good hands."

When Friday evening arrives Billy lets you get settled in and informs you that Frank's waiting in his bedroom whenever you're ready. You're slightly nervous but when you open the door and see his large form sitting on the side of the bed suddenly all you feel is a buzz.

"Hey princess, how're you doin'?" He asks in a low drawl along with a smile that makes you want to bark. He looks so damn fine you want to squeal.

Instead you greet him politely, reining in your giddiness and desire. "I'm good thank you, Sir."

Frank grins, a slight chuckle bursting past his lips in a way you found cute. "Did Bill tell you to say that sweetheart? Y'know he's just messin' with you? You can call me Frank if you want."

You return his smile, nodding. "Yes, Sir."

Frank makes a satisfied sound and laughs again, softer this time, his deep brown penetrating gaze making you feel weak at the knees. "Mm, alright. C'mon over here, let me see ya."

Just this simple request has your body feeling like it's ablaze. He stands up as you slowly walk over to him, his eyes running over you like warm honey, taking in the way your soft cotton summer dress hugs your curves, the hem ending just above your mid thigh.

“You're a very beautiful woman.” He says with a note of sincerity and awe, bringing his hand up to gently trace the side of your jaw. You feel the heat flush up into your face.

"What's your safeword honey?"

"Cloud." You reply hazily. You're practically purring already as his fingers graze over your rapidly heating skin.

Frank nods. "That's good, mine's 'bullet'. “How're you feelin' sweetheart?'' he asks, "Think you wanna play some?"

You start to lean into his touch as his thumb strokes across the small smile on your soft lips. "Yeah." You respond, and Frank grunts his approval as you start to lick and suck on his thumb as he gently slides it between your lips.

"Such a good girl. Damn. Bill told me you were needin' a little somethin' extra. S'that right?" he gently probes, and you feel your entire body start to tingle with the anticipation of what he's going to do with you next.

You take the digit deeper into your mouth as he guides you down to kneel in front of him, swirling your tongue around it and hollowing your cheeks to suck just a little while you look up at him with wide eyes.

"Yeah, we're gonna get on real well. How ‘bout we see what else that pretty mouth of yours can do, huh?"

He slowly palms over the noticeable bulge at the crotch of his jeans and you can feel the saliva filling your mouth, dripping out of the corner as he presses his thumb down against your tongue. Yes sir, please sir you think as you nod slowly as he removes it and unbuckles his belt. The clinking sound of it being undone has you soaking into your silky underwear already. This is what you need. Just him to keep telling you what to do, to take complete control of your body and mind and make you feel like nothing else matters.

As he pulls his cock out in front of your face you can't stop your eyes widening and the eager moan that escapes you. He's big, long and thick, and as he strokes himself to full hardness you shift about on your knees, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you catch sight of a drop of precum leaking from his tip.

"Look at you, so damn perfect an' all ready f'me.”

You push up onto your knees, keeping your hands to yourself until he tells you otherwise, your mouth open and tongue out flat and wide as you wait for him to give you what you're craving. Instruction.

“Yeah, that's right. You know what to do princess."

His cock is mere inches from your mouth, just out of reach. He finally moves forward to rub the head of it over your waiting tongue, moaning as the addictive musky taste of him spreads across it. You slide your mouth on, stretching your lips over the fat head of his dick, closing your eyes as you slowly begin to suck on it.

"Ah-ah sweetheart, look at me. Eyes on me." He corrects, watching you take a little more of him in, beginning to move back and forth and shallowly fuck your mouth as you obey and look back up at him. He groans letting his head fall back as you lap your tongue along the bulging vein on the underside.

"Oh yeah, that's real good baby. Gonna give you some more just like you want, huh?"

You moan your agreement around his impressive girth as you pull back and ready yourself to swallow him deeper. He's gentle at first, he pushing his fingers through your hair, cradling the back of your head lightly as you take him in as far as you can, gagging slightly until you can figure out how to breathe. Your eyes start to water as you gaze up at him. He's telling you that you look so damn pretty, and you feel the wetness between your thighs increase ten fold as his big hand and thick fingers wrap around your throat to guide you.

"Oh- fuck- attagirl, there we go, fuck that's it."

You think he's gonna finish off in your mouth the way he's groaning and grunting fucking your mouth, obviously enjoying the way you're taking him and letting him use you. But you're silently begging him with your eyes not to, because you're throbbing, aching for him to get inside of you, to be able to feel that massive dick fucking you until you can't think thoughts.

Thankfully he slows his movements, pulling out his dick and wiping your messy spit covered chin with his thumb. He lifts you up to your feet and gently pushes you back on the bed where you land with a soft bounce. As you struggle to regain your breath he's chuckling at your gawking stare as he strips out of his clothes revealing his muscular chest, defined rows of abs and thick thighs that you dream of being suffocated between.

"Hope you weren't thinkin’ I was neglectin' that pretty little pussy of yours..."

Of course he knows what you're thinking but you still shake your head. "No sir." you mewl, your body aflame from the way his eyes rove over you. Frank prowls up your body, his hand slipping up under the hem of your dress and gently cupping your mound, middle fingers stroking so teasingly up over your folds through your damp underwear. You yelp as he takes his hand away only to slap your cunt hard, the pleasurable pain jolting through your whole body like an electric shock.

"Don't lie to me."

"N-no sir!" You whimper as he rubs you again through the flimsy fabric, grinning as he feels the fresh flood of your arousal soak his fingers.

"Well shit. Look at that baby. You like sucking cock that much?"

"I like sucking your cock, sir." You pant, trying to grind yourself against his hand for some immediate relief. He lifts it away, slapping your pussy lightly again making you cry out in frustration.

"Gimme a colour sweetheart."

Billy had said that you would be in good hands. You were gonna have to get him a present or something for this.

'G-green!"

"That's a good girl." He smirks, curling his fingers over the waistband of your panties, peeling them down your ass away from your soaking core, and inching them ever so slowly down your trembling thighs.

"Heard you don't like bein' teased, princess…"

Your mind reels wondering where he's going with this, your breath shallow and fast as he bares you to him, tossing your ruined underwear across the bedroom. He kneels on the bed at your feet,

"On your hands and knees f'me."

He commands and you obey. It's that simple. He takes his time appraising you, his fingers drifting over your ass cheeks and carefully rucking up the hem of your dress to your waist.

"Cute." He remarks, noting how your breathing changes as he moves up behind you, his hand resting on your hip. You gasp you feel the firm head of his cock run between the folds of your puffy, sopping cunt. He rubs it up and down the length of your slit, over and over so slowly, and every time you think he's going to sink right in and fill you full he doesn't. You want nothing else so badly but to push back into him, to have him thrust inside and probably split you in half but he hasn't said that you're allowed to.

You want to scream.

"Doin' real good for me, such a good girl."

You shiver at the praise, but you need more, he has to understand how much you need him.

"Yeah, you want me to give you some more don't you? I know, I know sweetheart." He says soothingly while pushing his cock forward between your legs and bumping the head up against your clit. When he draws away yet again you can't stand the tease anymore and you break.

"Fuck, please!" you whine.

Frank smacks his hand down on your ass cheek and you cry out, heat blooming out over your skin as he runs his palm over the stinging spot.

"Please what?" He asks you so casually, as if he's completely ignorant to the fact you're almost dripping wet down the inside of your thighs.

"Please, sir… I-I need it, n-need your cock so bad, please!" You try, staring straight ahead as you dip your back, making your hips tilt up hoping he'll see just how ready you are for more. You breathe out a shaky whimper of relief as you feel the warmth and pressure of his giant hand grip around the back of your neck holding you still as he takes his cock in hand and slides it close to where you're aching for him to shove it. But he doesn't, and he so clearly knows what it's doing to you.

You want this teasing, this cruel punishment and yet can't stop your pathetic sobs of desperation, can't stop the tears from rolling down your flushed cheeks as you plead with him repeatedly.

"Shh-shh c'mon pretty girl, you know I got you." He says shushing you gently. "Deep breaths f'me hm? You good?"

You manage to drag in a shuddering lungful of air so you can tell him you want this, you want him to keep going, keep making you feel.

His fingers grip the back of your neck tighter when he hears your confirmation to continue and finally– he gives you what you need, forcing the thick head of his cock into your needy pussy. You moan and mewl as he stretches you open, despite how wet and ready you thought you were it's still a tight fit and he pauses for a few seconds, feeling you contract around his tip.

"S'that what you need huh? Feel good?"

You groan as he holds himself still, only the first couple of inches of him inside you. Then he moves, so slow that the tears return, running down the drying tracks on your skin as he thrusts gently back and forth, only fucking you with the very tip of his cock. Pushing in and popping out, so painfully slowly, in and out, again and again.

"Mm, that's all you deserve for now baby. That's all you're gettin' till you play nice."

The next time he pulls out he smacks his hard length down against your ass, thrusting himself between the cleft of your cheeks for a while leaving you completely empty. You do nothing, say nothing, just moan and let him use your body until he wants to reward you. And reward you he does…

You inhale sharply as you feel the sudden loss of contact, but then he buries his face in your cunt and starts licking and fucking you with his tongue. He grips firmly around your thighs, pulling you back, flush with his hot mouth as he works you up until your legs are shaking. You gasp as the coil deep inside tightens as he keeps it up, reacting to the increasing pitch and volume of your moans. You're gonna come any second and you know he's not told you that you can, that you're allowed to. You don't know what to do, the feeling is welling up from deep inside, it's getting closer and he won't let up, craning his neck to flick your clit with the tip of his tongue and delve his tongue into the steady stream of slick arousal leaking out of you.

Fuck, god… please, just a little more, so close, it feels so fucking good- almost… there–

Frank stops, pulls away.

You're shaking, crying, your cunt is throbbing.

He stopped.

Suddenly you don't know which way is up, whimpering as he spears you with his cock, sliding all the way into you until you can feel his hip bones hard up against your ass. You twitch and pulse around him at the sensation.

Fuck it's so good it's so good, you babble as he drags you up off your hands, his arms binding you to his warm chest as he starts to rut you hard and fast, his beautiful fat cock dragging so deep against your soft inner walls. Frank claps a hand over your breast, squeezing and fondling then tugging and pinching hard at your nipple while his other massive paw slides upwards to your neck, and you whimper and whine as it easily circles your entire throat. You lean into it, showing him that this is what you wanted, what you were being a good girl for. He holds you firmly while his hips thrash, fucking you so hard you can't speak, can't think about anything else but how perfect it feels, how you want nothing else but for him to fill you up, use you how he pleases.

He tightens his grip and growls as your pussy squeezes around him in response.

"Yeah," he rasps into the side of your neck, his skin smacking against your ass every time he thrusts up into you. You can feel his heavy balls almost brushing your clit. "Good girl… c'mon and let me hear you."

Every time he buries himself inside a pitiful little whimper falls from your open mouth. You wonder if Billy is listening next door, maybe getting off on the sound of the two of you fucking.

Frank's tightening, vice-like grip snaps you back to the moment and you're aching for him and starting to get a little lightheaded which makes everything feel so much more intense.

“Fraaank…” you pant.

"You close sweetheart? Goddamn, I know it, can feel you flutterin' honey, feels so good."

He's relentless in the way that he fucks you, but it's not without tenderness and sensuality. His lips kiss the sweaty skin of your shoulder as he holds you upright, your back flush against his broad chest, his hand still around your neck and one splayed over your stomach as he starts to ram his cock repeatedly right into that perfect spot.

“C'mon sweetheart, I got you,” he grunts, "go on, go off for me baby...”

When his hand slides down lower and you feel the electric sensation of the rough pads of his fingertips start rubbing over your slick clit, there's no going back. You're a hot, whimpering mess ready to fall over the edge.

He half-whispers, voice low and gruff by your ear. “Fuck that's it, fuck, yeah…”

He slams up into you as your body finally quakes around him and you let go completely with an uninhibited moan of pleasure, feeling the rolling fire of your orgasm exploding out in powerful waves through every nerve. You're barely aware of anything after that, only half registering the deep groan of satisfaction from Frank as he finishes inside you with several slow, deep rolls of his hips.

Everything feels warm and gooey, sounds are muted and distant for a while until you hear him again as you slowly come to, blinking your heavy eyelids open to his concerned voice.

“Hey, hey… you okay sweetheart?”

You gradually become aware that you're being held, warm and grounded. Frank's propped up on the mound of pillows at the headboard and you're laying against his broad chest as he trails his fingertips gently up and down the outside of your arm.

“Not too much?” He asks, angling his head to make eye contact with you.

You reach up your hand around the back of his head, leaning up as you pull him down to kiss him for the first time. It's a sweet kiss, relaxed and easy considering all that you've just done together. He's got the cutest smile you've ever seen on his face after you break away, this big unit of a man is maybe even blushing slightly.

“No this was perfect, thank you so much Frank, I couldn't really ask for more.” He hands you a glass of water and you kinda do wish you could indulge yourself a little more and lie in his arms for longer, but you're aware that Billy's just outside and you both should probably get cleaned up anyway. As you carefully push yourself up you can't help notice Frank seems almost reluctant to break up your little post coital moment.

“Y'know, anytime you need a little somethin’, you just let me know, hm?” Frank offers, and you know you'll definitely be taking him up on that. You slip out of bed and he's right there making sure you don't fall over your own wobbly legs on the way to the ensuite to shower.

“You comin' with me, big guy?” you ask him with a raised brow and a soft smile, glad when he returns it and shadows you, turning on the hot spray of the shower and helping you wash.

When you emerge Frank heads into the kitchen to pour you all a drink and you go to find Billy. He's in his office with his headphones on and gives you a smirk when he sees your blissed out expression, taking the headset off and putting it on the desk.

“Looks like you might've had some fun. Frankie, did you treat her right?!” he shouts through to the kitchen, and you can't help the huge grin that splits your face.

“Yeah he most definitely did.” You reply, your fingers playing with a pen on the edge of his desk. “I was thinking that maybe, we could all have some fun together next time..?”

“Oh we're already planning a next time are we?” Billy teases, and you smack him on the arm, shushing him as Frank appears in the doorway to hand you both a glass of bourbon each.

“You can count me in.” Frank responds before taking a sip and Billy grins.

You couldn't wait.

[elodiah]

WIP Wednesday

Slowly, slooooowly (for me…) chipping away at this prompt fill. This will likely be the last I share of it before posting. Bit of a longer one today, because I felt like it. 🤷‍♀️

“How are you feeling, though? Are you still okay?”

“I have none of the symptoms, thus far,” Loki mumbled dismissively, words slurred in exhaustion so potent it was almost painful to behold.

“Gods Loki, you need to sleep,” Mobius urged beseechingly, reaching out and placing a hand on the glass in his longing to offer a touch of solicitude. “I’ll get the medics to bring you some meds, something that’ll help y-”

“No,” Loki broke in vehemently, “No. There’s no point. I- I wouldn’t take them.”

“Why?” he asked, utterly incredulous, “Why in the worlds would you not?”

Turning away, Loki dragged himself effortfully back over to the gurney, easing himself to sit upon the edge with a soft and weary sigh, his movements for once exhibitive of his centuries of life.

“I need to be awake in case something happens,” he confessed quietly to the patch of floor in front of him. “To them… or to me.”

And that was entirely understandable.

Anyway, with no foundation for a convincing argument — having never before found himself in Loki’s highly unenviable position — Mobius felt obliged to let it go, trusting that Loki would eventually pass out in his own time, anyway… hopefully sooner rather than later.

He looked as though he was already asleep sitting up.

Mobius was about to offer to stay there a little longer, if Loki wanted, when he received an alert from B-15 saying he was needed to sit in on a mission debriefing.

“I have to go, Loki,” he said sombrely. “I’ll come back as soon as I can, but it might not be until midday again.”

“‘S’fine,” he replied, in a way that suggested it was anything but.

That gave Mobius pause.

“You sure you’ll be okay? If you need company, I can try and get-”

“I said it’s fine,” Loki repeated, a little coldly, which took him aback.

There was a long silence, Mobius waiting him out to see if he’d break; drop a hint at what was actually going on inside his head.

But Loki neither moved nor spoke, and Mobius backed out quietly, muttering a word of farewell.

No-pressure tagging: @kcscribbler , @lokimobius , @in-my-loki-feels , @loki-is-my-kink-awakening , @insomniaflarrow , @thosegayoldmen , @silentxsymphony , @mirilyawrites , @blackbirdofasgard , @distracteddream , @impulsemuppet , @boredintjqueen

[damthosefandoms]

been thinking a lot about cherrycola who were friends in early elementary school because they didn’t know about the “great tulsa divide” yet and soda was just a silly chatterbox who couldn’t read or write very good and cherry was a real bright little girl who didn’t like getting in trouble but loved helping her classmates—her friends—and they used to end up always sitting next to each other in their classes every year and it was great for a while, until they grew up. and anyway here’s a little wip from something I’m writing about that:

———

“You write pretty good for a soc,” Soda comments later that day, as they work on their short stories. The assignment was to write five chapters, each at least two paragraphs long, about an animal of their choice. His is about a horse that runs a little slower than all of its friends, but makes up for it by being such a great friend. Cherry’s story is about a cat who wants to be friends with a dog. They have to read each other’s stories today, then edit and revise them with a partner.

(Well, now there’s one group of three, since Dally hasn’t returned from the office yet, but that isn’t Soda’s problem.)

Soda and Cherry work together as usual, being desk-partners and all, and he’s about a paragraph into her story when he decides to bring it up. He can see all the red pen she’s covered his own notebook in, and he wants to get ahead of it, change the focus to her before she can point out his mistakes. It’s only because it’s been on his mind all day it kind of just slips out.

“You write pretty good, for a soc.”

“For a what?”

Cherry’s green eyes blink at him and he wonders why it has to be green that people associate with the word go. Like, sometimes it feels as if he can just say anything to Cherry Valance, like he can just get away with it. He can’t. He should know better.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No, I heard what you said. Sodapop, come on. That whole thing is so silly. I thought you knew that.”

He opens his mouth to respond, to say it’s not, that he’s seen firsthand as they’ve gotten older how different their lives really are. How she couldn’t laugh at Dally causing serious trouble. How he can’t laugh when he hears kids who he knows Cherry hangs out with telling Two-Bit to go back where he came from, as if he wasn’t born on the same cursed East Tulsa soil as Sodapop and his brothers were.

She’d never say anything like that; but then again, what does Soda know? He only sees her at school. Outside of that, they don’t exactly hang around the same playgrounds. He bets the swingsets in her neighborhood aren’t broken or have the chains wrapped around the top bar.

So he just shrugs. He glances at the chalkboard, where their teacher’s cursive twists and turns in front of his eyes, the same way the butterflies in his stomach are doing gymnastics right now. He tries to remember how they were supposed to phrase their peer-review comments and questions.

“I guess so. Sorry. Uh, I was curious about the part in your story where—”

“My story’s fine,” Cherry snaps, and she pulls it away from him. “You wouldn’t get it anyway.”

She’s blushing like she’s embarrassed, and Soda doesn’t understand why. He hasn’t even finished reading yet. He thought it was so interesting, how the other cats wanted the main character to stick with her own friends, but she wanted more. She wants to be friends with everyone, dogs, cats, rabbits, whatever. Soda might not be the best reader but he thinks Ponyboy would’ve loved it.

Heck, he loves it so far. It just doesn’t seem realistic, but that’s why they’re writing fiction stories, isn’t it?

[ganondoodle]

(wip)

so, instead of working on what i actually wanted to work on ... i did some rough mock up and UI stuff for the pixel game i dream of making

(some sprites are done and copied over, like the basic player character- most are super rough -throw some color in vageuly the shape you need -)

my dream idea (probably impossible espeiclaly for a noob gamedev like me lol) is like a mix of minecraft and stardew with a bit of botw and ww, but set in my OCs world- with a heavy focus on customization and environment/exploration more than making money or something (you might collect celestial silver bits- which are toxic to demons and thus better collected by you in an effort to heal their world and you get rewards for turning it in?)

the Hud? UI? you see here is well .. health and energy in the upper left corner plus some controls which are also in the upper right corner, the idea is to mimic windwakers style of button mapping- meaning that you can put any item on any button you want (only inventory is locked bc it contains all the options)- that extends to the jump, interact and sit actions too, theyd be in your inventory like an item you get from the start, so if you never wanna sit down, put sth else there, dont want to interact with anything and just run around? sure do, never jump? no problem

in the lower right corner is the info thingy, with the big wheel being time of day, the second the health of the environment (the main mechanic in restricting you- if you cut down trees or introduce plants from other, later unlockable, areas it will go down, if you reach critical level too many times Eadrya (blue rough sprite there) will show up whereever you are and kill you (bc the whole idea is that you are a demon hunter who wanted to leave the organization but was hunted down by them for it- so you are rescued by Shargon and put into one of the bubbles around travel gates meant to protect humans from the otherwise toxic-to-humans atmosphere in the demon world, but since you are a hunter, and they cant be sure you can be trusted, you are tasked with helping their world recover from the damage your former allies caused- so if you do more damage than heal it and you do it on purpose they will see it as proof you have not actually left the hunters, which means if Eadrya is the one watching the area you will be eaten/smashed/etc- if its someone else thrown back into the human realm)

below that is the temperature- and on the side is the current and coming weather

(edit: as sidenote, i always got a color filter layer ready for grayscale to check if everythings still readable without color- its an effort to make it more accessible for people with color vision impairment, but i dont think i can test for every single one? theres alot of levels of color blindness right? >o<)

,,,,,,,, this got long too huh

[gamesetattach]

Okay, so I got these two in my inbox back to back. They're not quite the same obviously one is much kinder lol... but my answer to both is similar enough that I thought I'd address them at once.

I find I write the best and most enjoyably when I can really connect with the prompt, whether that be smut or some sort of other plotline--that way I can really imagine the scenario and flush it out how I see fit. So sometimes that means I work on whatever WIP or request that calls to me the most, and I post those out accordingly. And honestly, smut feels like lower pressure than angst or even fluff which might be why my fics seem more steamy than anything else lately... and I am sorry for that, I know that content doesn't appeal to everyone! That being said, I do have fluff and angst and comfort that I'm working on!!

Obviously, I was posting a lot more often before, but I'm coming to the conclusion that the schedule I posed a month or so ago will still act as my goal but not necessarily my routine. Def still expect frequent fics from me, don't worry, but I need to set a realistic boundary for myself--which hopefully will keep me from inflating false expectations for you all, also.

Also, for context, I have about 25 requests in my inbox and double the amount of WIPs...concerning to say that last bit aloud tbh. So I only really tap into my requests for added inspiration or if I don't feel motivated to work on anything I have ongoing! Having the requests there and sent in do help a lot, so feel free to keep them coming!!! But please know I don't aim to churn them out back to back, because I know that might start feeling forced in the writing later on!

Also while I'm on my soapbox, might as well tack this on too.

Honestly, go ahead and send in a request for someone other than Jannik if you would like to! Worst case, it'll just sit in there, but who knows? I might feel inclined!

I think R.Fed is hot as hell I think I've made that clear lol but Jannik's probably who I'm sticking too. I'm really enjoying making fics for him and I think it's because he feels like a familiar outlet for writing at this point. Also he's my fav, duh.

Definitely anticipating a surge in writing motivation with Jannik's return, but how often I get to work on fics is largely up to my other commitments unfortunately. Thanks to everyone who's been a constant and avid supporter, I so appreciate it!! Like truly so much xx

[lanafofana]

WIP Whatever Whenever

Yeah another bit of Gale + Barby (barbarian) Tav. I just think they're neat okay.

“You’re right, Astarion, talking my way out of problems is great!” 

Astarion’s jaw snaps shut while rage quickly overtakes his blatant shock. “That's not what I meant, you unhinged lunatic! Does that even count as killing him? That had better count!” 

“You’re welcome!” she says snottily. “C’mon everybody, rootin’ tootin’ lootin’ time!” 

“Hells,” Shadowheart mutters, adding the glowing purple sphere to her pack. “Is that her new catchphrase?” 

Gale‘s eyes are wide when Tav turns to grin at him. He looks around at the rest of the party as they pick their way up an incline of debris. “Did that just bloody happen?!” They ignore him, the murmur of conversation drifting down to him as they presumably start looting everything. Gods but his knees could do with a sit down for five or so. He turns around to stare at Tav again. “I’m not gonna lie, that was particularly amazing to watch. You’re amazing.” He shakes his head in wonder. “Where did you come from?” 

“I’m more interested in where I can cum later,” says Tav, from much closer. He forgets how fast she can move sometimes. 

Tav has boxed him in against a pillar without him really noticing till his back meets stone. She has one hand on his chin and the other on the pillar behind him with nothing but trouble written in her eyes. Gale feels his skin flush hot under the collar and tugs on it absently. She tracks the movement, looking utterly charmed. She presses a chaste kiss to the side of his mouth. “Did I make you nervous, magic man?”  

“Only in the best ways,” he says honestly. It’s disturbingly true. 

The average person has a pretty healthy grasp on self preservation, achieving a balance between reckless inhibition and careful consideration of sane things like consequences. 

Wizards take this normal sense of balance and chuck it out the highest window of their tower because personal safety is the one rule to rule them all and in Mystras grace bind them. Each spell created is meticulously crafted, for years if not decades and only in the most secure of carefully controlled environments. Tower defenses are practically day one at any instructional wizarding institutions worth their salt.   

And then she burst into his life like an explosion. Cocksure, mouthy, and armed with the muscles to pick up the slack left by her non-existent patience. Gods but it thrilled him. She’s still smiling at him, a hand on his hip where she drags her thumb in a lazy arc, and he thinks that if she is wildfire then he is air and he will let her swallow him whole for the chance to bask in the inferno of her blaze. 

“Are you guys fuckin’ on the corpse bed?” asks a cautious voice from above. 

“No!” Gale might have sprung away if he was not caged between the stone pillar at his back and the wall of muscle that was his beloved but as it is he merely does a full body flinch, clipping Tav’s chin with his forehead. Tav’s laughter bellows, echoing deep into the temple. 

“Ugh,” says Astarion. “Either way you answer, you don’t deserve your share of the loot, I’m keeping it.” 

That grabs Tav’s attention and in a flash she is charging up the pile of rubble that serves as a staircase. “Excuse me? I’ll show you who deserves loot! That orthon’s crossbow is mine; I can take it from you while you are conscious or unconscious but I am taking it before we leave this room.”

On the floor below Gale laughs, shaking his head at the sound of Astarion’s sudden shriek. 

“Fine! Have it! Gods!”

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

Fit for a King - WIP - "Let me patch you up"

Fit for a King - Masterlist

König and FMC just came back from a mission that went well, but FMC got hurt as they were trying to help one of the other operators. (random chapter in the König x FMC fanfiction, not chronological)

CW: bullet wound, some medical stuff, NSFW, explicit scenes 18+, slight tension & angst

a/n: I just keep writing, we'll see what will come out of it (this got way more angsty than I anticipated it to be)

(NSFW - explicit sex scenes - later in the chapter)

Medic ward:

"Are you sure, you're okay?" I can hear the worry in his voice, even if he seems to try and hold back. "Yes, I already said it thrice. ‘T’is but a scratch." I smile up at him hesitatingly, ignoring the pulsating pain in my thigh. The Monty Python quote is lost on him anyways. His brows are furrowed as he's looking down at me. He doesn't believe me. I sigh when he suddenly whips his head to the side.

"Doktor*, can I patch her up?" Before I can protest, Doc already put the first aid case in his hand. "Knock yourself out, as long as you do it somewhere else, Colonel." He looks at him like a father who has a child with bad temper tantrums on his hands, but König – as always – is oblivious to that. "Thanks, Herr Doktor*.", he says with a pep in his tone. Then he picks me up and carries me out the medic ward. "König, I can walk. The others are gonna see…", I protest, weakly, but I do protest. "Shut it, Mauserl**.", he throws back at me, clipped. "You should have never been there." I sulk a bit, but I know he’s right. "Should have, would have. How do you say? Hätte hätte Fahrradkette***?", I say between clenched teeth. My wound is still seeping blood into the fabric of my pants and now on König's shirt.

He carries me with ease in just one hand, with the other still holding the case. His long legs make huge strides down the hall, heading to the dorms, but as we pass my room, I get that he’s carrying me to his. “König…” He doesn’t look at me, just shakes his head. “Don’t.” I know him well enough already, that I can sense the distress emanating off him. Making it hard for him to say what he’s really feeling. He opens up the door to his room. I mean, it’s smart, we’ll be alone here, but it might also raise suspicions if the team gets wind of it. He sets me down on his bed and turns on the bedside lamp. “Hold still.”, he says and gets all the stuff out to dress my wound. Before I even see what he’s doing, he’s already cut my pants off. “What are you doing?!”, I scream at him. “That’s how you do this. Stop fretting.” His Austrian accent is as strong as ever. I don’t listen to what he’s saying, everything being too much. “You didn’t need to cut it off, we could’ve just-“ I move again, I can’t even sit-

“STAY STILL.”, he shouts and his hands grip me, gripping my waist, almost reaching around, as he pushes me down on the bed. I still because he never – NEVER – shouted at me like that before. My mouth stands open, I look up at him. He sighs, deep and desperate, and I hear his voice wavering as he puts his forehead against mine and says: “Please… just let me patch you up.” I feel his hood falling against my face and his warm and comforting smell cuts through the stench of blood and sweat. “Okay”, I breathe. His hand caresses over my cheek as he nods. “Gut****” He sits back on his knees and the room is immersed in silence.

He takes the disinfectant and cleans the area around the wound of the graze shot. The small noises and our intermingled breaths are all I hear. I feel his hands on my naked legs and the pulse in my wound quickens. “It didn’t stop bleeding.”, I whisper as I don’t want to disturb the quiet we’ve sunk into. “Hmm.”, is all he says before he presses a bandage against it. The bloods seeps through again and stains his fingers even more. “I’m gonna have to give you stitches, Liebes*****.”, he murmurs. I nod and he gets the needle and thread ready. “You have to stay still, okay?”, he orders me. “Hold onto me.” I grab his arm, the one not stitching me up, and as the needle sinks into my skin, I gasp dragging my nails into his muscles. “Yes, you’re doing so well for me.”, he whispers as he caresses my other thigh, preparing for the next stitch. I press my lips together, not to make any sounds. When he’s done, he puts a bandage over it to secure the stitched-up wound.

König sighs like there’s a huge weight falling off him and he meets my eyes again. The raw emotions in them scare me a bit. “Are you okay?”, I ask him as I put my hand on his cheek. He doesn’t answer my question but pulls me to the edge of the bed. “I need to be inside you. Please.” His hands trail up my inner thigh until he reaches my panties. The surprise hits me as he leans forward, his hood brushes over my skin and then I feel his lips on my neck. Soft kisses trail up to my ear and need settles in, low in my belly. “I need to feel you.”, he whispers, his hot breath skitting over the wet patches of his open-mouthed kisses, as he carefully pulls down my undies. He holds me close to him which gives me the opportunity to undo his belt. He nibbles at my neck and sucks on the sensitive spot, right below my ear, as I take out his dick and position him at my wetness. He doesn’t hesitate one bit, pushing into me slowly. A soft moan falls from my lips as I stretch around him. “Fuck.”, he mutters, burying himself in me. He’s still holding me close, not moving at all for a few seconds. I grip his sides, letting my nails sink into his back, as I adjust to his size and wonder if I’ll ever get used to it.

All the other times it had been fast. Passionate. Entangled limbs and hard thrusts until my legs gave out and I couldn’t move anymore. The other kind of human battering ram, if you catch my drift, because König fucks just like he fights. Putting the ‘insertion’ and the ‘specialist’ into ‘insertion specialist’. I was used to him jerking me on his cock how he liked it and me just taking it like a good girl, that I was completely… at a loss for words. Seeing him kneel before me, buried deep inside me, fucking me with lazy, languid strokes, while his hands are caressing my back, stroking over my sides softly. This is different. Slow, tender. Almost lovingly.

“You feel so good.”, he tells me. “But…” I halt. “But what?” – “I want to kiss you.”, he whispers. Okay, so this is definitely different from all the hasty stolen moments we had together so far. Even when he ate me out, he didn’t remove his cover, so I actually never saw his face before, except for his eyes. “We can do that.” I swallow down my nerves. “Should I lift your… mask?”, I ask him. He nods and my shaky hands reach for the hem of the hood, slowly pulling up, stopping right over his mouth. I look down, seeing the curve of his lips beneath the fabric as he leans forward. My hand cups his right cheek and I feel his stubble against my fingertips when he kisses me for the first time. His lips press against mine. Soft, so soft, in contrast to his big burly figure. He breaks away for just a moment, his eyes searching mine. König sees something in them that seems to satisfy him and he leans down again. I answer his kiss as a moan slips over my lips, giving him the chance to deepen it.

When his tongue moves against mine, he starts to push into me again. Tingles erupt all over my body and even if it’s not hard and fast like I’d normally prefer, the way he’s holding me, kissing me, fucking me is building up my arousal with every languid roll of his hips. I don’t think I had somebody ever do me like this before and I feel a pang of… some kind of emotion in my chest that I’d rather not dwell on right now. I push it away and concentrate on König again.

I want to feel him close, closer, my other hand, currently not on his face, is trailing up his back, feeling his warm body beneath my fingertips. He pulls me flush against him, picking up a little bit in tempo. Our movements are getting needier and I grind against him, not breaking the kiss, so he swallows up all my sounds and sighs. “Please, Liebes*****.”, he whispers against my lips. “Come for me.” His fingers trail down, finding my clit, stroking at the same pace, repeating his plea. The flood of arousal washes over me as he fills me up again and I can’t hold back the soft scream that escapes me as I come around his dick. I feel him tremble beneath me, coming inside me as the waves of my orgasm subside. All I hear are our intertwined heavy breaths as I still try to grasp what just really happened.

König pulls back, kissing me one more time, then the hood falls back down again. He puts his dick away and buckles his belt before he raises his hand one more time. His thumbs caresses over my cheek, I can feel his fingers on the side of my face. “For a second today, I was afraid that I lost you.” His voice is a whisper, almost soundless. His words hit me, like a punch to the stomach, I didn’t expect him to say anything about it, to feel this way. Before I can answer, he gets up and for the first time I register that he is still fully clothed, stains of blood all over his shirt, mine and the enemies. His tattooed forearms and hands are bloody. We didn’t even wash off the remnants of the fight before we fucked. The tender moments form a stark contrast against the blood and violence. The 6’10’’ killing machine standing in front of me whose hands can rip enemies apart, but I only know the pleasure they give me, how they caress me, how they patched me up today,

“Where are you going?”, I ask him as I look up at him. He looks down on the floor and I can see him shutting down a bit. “I just wanna get some workout done.”, he says finally. “You can stay here, get some rest.” With long strides he’s at the door. “I’m gonna be back… soon. Okay, Mauserl**?” I nod as light from the hallway streams into the room, then the door closes, he’s gone and I’m alone in his bed. I lie down, ignoring the wet sensation between my legs of our combined fluids. I grab the covers and pull them over me. The soft light still illuminates the room and I bask in König’s smell, the blanket and the warm glow giving me the comfort that the man himself couldn’t right now.

Translations: *Herr Doktor: 'Mister doctor', polite salutation for a doctor in german **Mauserl: more austrian version of small mouse ***Hätte hätte, Fahrradkette: a silly german way to say 'what happened, happened, can't do nothing about it now' ****gut: 'good' *****Liebes: 'my love'

[disasterbuck]

Hi!!! Ooooh There is so much to choose 🤪🥰💕❓️💻💖🤝🤖🌎🥵

omg just go ahead and make me write everything lol (affectionate) I couldn't keep myself to strictly 3 sentences for all of these, so they vary a bit 🥰

🤪 - clumsy

first time in MONTHS I've written anything for this wip 🥰

This lasted for approximately five minutes before the bell went off and he found himself piling into the truck next to Eddie. He'd tried to slip into another seat, but Chimney had gotten there first and shot him a curious glance. After that, Buck had resigned himself to his fate and sat down beside the love and torturer of his life.

🥰 - confession / surprise date

this one ran away with me a little, how exciting!!

Eddie's lips parted in surprise as Buck began ladling the stew into their bowls. Buck was nervous, accidentally moving a bit too quick and splashing some sauce out of the bowl onto Eddie's shirt.

"Shit! Sorry," he said, moving the dish back to the island bench and taking a step to go and fetch a wash cloth.

Before he could get far, Eddie grabbed his arm and gently reeled him in until he was standing right beside Eddie's chair, looking down at him.

"Relax," Eddie said softly.

"I just want it to be perfect," Buck said. "But now I've already gotten food on you and we haven't even eaten anything yet and–"

Pushing his chair back to stand up, Eddie silenced him with a kiss.

💕 - first kiss

Eddie wasn't sure what to say to that. The truth was he was scared, but he knew he needed to face this no matter what. If Buck had picked up on enough to think they were dancing around each other, that had to mean something.

❓ - is this a date?

It turned out that there was only one table left, which Buck accepted eagerly.

"Alright, up you get," Buck said once the booking was finalised and he'd hung up the phone. "There was only one slot left and it's for 6:45, so we've gotta hustle."

Eddie let out an exaggerated groan as he got to his feet.

💻 - eddie's online friend

this is a goldmine that I completely forgot about lol. I might have to share more snippets at some point.

Stranded: so?

Stranded: are you gonna ask him if he's into men?

GI: stop asking me that

💖 - sorry but I fell in love tonight

Buck watched in delight as the fear drained out of Eddie's face, replaced with wonder.

that's all I've got in me for this one atm

🤝 - touches

The next escalation comes one evening as they're curled up on Eddie's couch together. Eddie sits between Buck's legs, his back to Buck's chest, when Buck takes a risk and slides his hands up the man's thighs. Eddie hums, happy, and tips his head back.

After that, they kiss whenever they can.

🤖 - who's got a crush

a few extra lines for this one as well 🥰

Had Buck really just said what he thought he'd said? No, he couldn't have. Eddie must have misheard.

"Sorry, what?" he asked, giving his head a slight shake.

"Oh my god, Dad!" Chris exclaimed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "He wants to have your babies!"

"Christopher!" Buck wheezed.

🌎 - alternate universe

How could he be right about when Christopher was coming back, but wrong about so many other things? Why didn't he have any memory whatsoever of getting married to Eddie? It couldn't be amnesia, because he had too many other memories all packed into his brain.

🥵 - that's hot

A moment later he heard footsteps and turned to see Bobby and Eddie walking towards him. Bobby looked extremely proud, and Eddie looked…

"Marry me," Eddie said, eyes fixed on Buck's face.

Make Me Write ✨

taglist:

(I hope it's okay that I'm adding you all here! Just thought you might like to read some snippets, and figured this was a good post for it since there's such a variety. If you're interested in even MORE, go to my blog and search 'make me write'. I've tagged all of these asks with that tag.)

@dluoser @taketheplanspinitsideways @loudenthusiastic @wallywise @mxrcjqckspnchqsc

@i-am-married-to-my-fandom @therosesaredying @stillfuckingtired @classtrialguru @speggle

@awesome-igi @natnuszsstuff @olliesrants @crazyfangirlallert @delirium1995

@brah3280 @meanceclosetohell @anythingeverythingallofthetime @izzysbeans @sunflower-eddiediaz

@darkrose6578 @veronae-buddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @loveyouanyway @inell

@spicyrottingbrains @gnoeltop @idealuk @donationwayne @lemotmo

@smilingbuckley @realpersonwithrealfeelings @superlock-in-the-tardis @mjthe14thdoctor @strxwbereee

@idontknowwhatimdoing777 @ashleigh2658 @mari-lwyd-fannibal-blog @mineyneedsmoney @faithhopeandmisery

@spotsandsocks @unlifeira @tofanasmuse @pirrusstuff @buddiedaydreamer911

@littlevampireprincessuniverse @misshiss727 @i-put-the-star-in-bastard @hermioneindisguise @dangerpronebuddie

Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed 💕

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

All right, I did something. I did it a few days ago, and I've not posted about it yet because, to be honest, I thought I might change my mind. I purchased this thing about three minutes after I discovered it was on sale. I purchased it at 5 AM, while half asleep, and in that moment, I at least had the presence of mind to pay seven extra dollars for a refundable ticket, in case I come to my senses later.

However, it's been a few days, and I've not come to my senses. I don't think I'm going to. I'm sticking with this. Look what I purchased:

Here's some relevant information: The Bell House is a theatre in New York City. Google Maps says that the drive from my house to The Bell House in New York City takes seven hours and thirty minutes. However, I know from experience that it's actually longer than that. I know this from the experience of the only time I've been to NYC before, which was in May 2022, when I went there to watch Nish Kumar perform his previous stand-up show.

I was lucky, that time, that my brother happened to be house-sitting in NYC for a few months. I don't own a car, but because my brother was there, my dad said he was happy to take us down in his car, so he could see the city and visit my brother. My dad and I got to split the driving, and we got to sleep for free at the place where my brother was staying. We drove all day on Saturday, which took about 8.5 hours. Had dinner, then my dad and my brother and I all watched Nish Kumar, slept for about five hours in the apartment where my brother was, and drove 8.5 hours home the next day.

I hated every moment of that trip during which I was not actually in a room with Nish Kumar. I hated NYC - too many people, and I just disliked the atmosphere. Plus I had a massive fight with my brother right before the show, because I was annoyed that so few people on the NYC subway wore masks even though there was a huge surge in COVID rates there at the time (this was May 2022, when COVID was a bigger danger), and my brother said masks are for sheep, and we ended up yelling at each other on an NYC sidewalk and almost missed the show.

However, I fucking loved every single second of Nish Kumar's show. It is still one of my favourite stand-up shows I've ever seen, and I feel incredibly lucky to have been able to see it live. I consider the entire terrible trip worth it for that, even though I came out of it saying, "Wel, I've now been to New York City once, hated the place, and I never feel the desire to go back."

That's what I said at the time. But I didn't know, back in 2022, that Nish Kumar would be coming back two years later with an even better show. And I really think it is. In his 2024 show (Edinburgh 2024, touring in 2024-2025), Nish Don't Kill My Vibe, he manages to outdo the high bar that his 2022 show set. It's worth the trip again.

I have been lucky enough to hear the material from Nish Don't Kill My Vibe, probably about ten different times throughout the past year. I've heard it in various WIP stages, and then got to see it live twice when I visited the UK over the summer - once as a preview in London, and then the next week in Edinburgh. Does that mean that I definitely don't need to do a 17-hour round trip in one weekend just to see it again?

No! No no no no no it does not and I refuse to come to my senses about this! Sure, I've seen it before, but even in Edinburgh, it was still billed as a WIP. It's into the touring stages now, it's different! I've already seen a couple of people online, who've seen the show on tour, reference bits in it that I don't recognize. Which means there's new stuff! Nish Kumar is performing material that I've not heard before! I must hear it!

Obviously I'm aware that only a small percentage of the show will be any different from the stuff I've already heard. But 1) The stuff I've already heard was brilliant and I want to hear it again and I want to hear it live, and 2) I know I'm pretty much just paying to be in a room with Nish Kumar. But he's so cool. I would pay an inadvisable amount of money to be in a room with Nish Kumar.

So, I'm going to have to figure some stuff out. I still don't own a car, and my brother doesn't happen to be staying in NYC this time. I called my parents and asked them if I could request a really large favour - perhaps we could call it a Christmas present - where I take their car on an 8-ish-hour journey on a Saturday in March and then an 8-ish-hour journey back on the Sunday. Because I'd have to do it that way - the show is Saturday night, I work all day on Friday and Monday, and my job is one that has school holidays off, and their policy says that they do not give vacation days outside those holidays except in "very exceptional circumstances". I'm pretty sure those "very exceptional circumstances" are meant to be, like, a family member's funeral. Not "My second favourite comedian in the whole wide world is going to be on my side of the ocean for once, and I hear he might have, like, three minutes worth of material that I've not heard before!"

The other option would be to drive down Saturday, see the show, and then get in the car immediately and drive home all night on Sunday. This has the advantage of meaning I wouldn't need to pay for accommodation out there. It has the obvious disadvantage of, you know, ignoring my human body's basic physiological needs.

Anyway, I'll figure it out. I told myself when I bought the ticket that I could also use public transit, but since then, have actually looked that up, and learned that there is no bus that leaves later than the time my work on Friday finishes, and arrives in NYC before showtime on Saturday. So I'm now really counting on being able to borrow a car.

My parents were surprisingly receptive to the idea, when I asked about it. When I said I want to go to NYC, my mother joking asked "Is it to see Nish Kumar?", because that was the stupid reason I had last time. And I had to say... "Yes, yes it is. He's got another show." She said we'll figure it out and can probably make it work. My dad actually liked the city of NYC, and said he might even come down again just to see the city.

Anyway, that's what I'm doing with my life. That, and planning an even bigger trip to the UK next August, now that I have the whole summer off. Nine nights in Edinburgh, and before that, some time in London, and then trains through Wales and Ireland. I've already booked a couple of nights at an Air B&B in Galway. I'm going places in 2025. Literally, if not metaphorically. It'll be good.