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humanitysstrongestsoldier1 · 10 days ago

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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 | 𝑃. 𝑆𝐸𝑂𝑁𝐺𝐻𝑊𝐴 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

Alternate Universe: University, OG Countries

Genre: Mature, Fluff, Smut, F2L

Pairing: Seonghwa X Nerd F!Reader

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Summary:

“This may be the night that my dreams might let me know. All the stars are closer.” - Kendrick Lamar and SZA, All The Stars

You were made of stars. Stitched from constellations and loneliness. He found you anyway.

In a foreign land, where you chased your dreams of creative writing, you collided with Park Seonghwa: beautiful, radiant, terrifyingly kind. Between stolen glances, unfinished stories, rooftop constellations, and a love that bloomed like a supernova, you realise: you were never lost. You were just waiting for someone to find you in your orbit — and stay.

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Warnings: kissing, neck kissing, oral sex (fem rec.), explicit language, mirror sex, body worship, light dom/sub, slight breeding kink (if you squint), fingerfucking (kinda), overstim., manhandling, forced eye contact, handjobs. Wooyoung is his own warning lolz.

A/N: So this popped up on my fyp the day i finished my draft of this ff, the song is the same and so is the man, is this a sign from the universe or am i tweakin?? someone pls save yeosang in this ff, also this may be a bit self indulgent, reader has acne scars and stretch marks, literally waited until i finished TSDOT7 to post this, finalising this during finals week was ironic af

Being an astrophysics major by itself was a dream come true.

Indeed, the math was brutal. There were countless nights you banged your head against textbooks, hoping osmosis would bless you with answers. Growing up in a country that shaped global advancements in STEM, it felt natural, inevitable, even, to fall in love with the cosmos. And you did. You chased astrophysics with a ferocity few could match. But when your 12-year-old self first discovered writing; something shifted. Something opened. Which is exactly why, the moment you held your degree in strong hands, you applied for college again. Not for answers in equations, but for meaning in words. This time, in a country known not for rockets or labs, but for language, philosophy, and the ache of beautiful things. You wanted an adventure so you sought it out.

In this world, most countries are known for something. Like people, each country had a soul.

Illusia was music. Open beaches, summer-long festivals, street art blooming across abandoned buildings.

Halaland pulsed neon. Dance battles in alleyways, cyphers on rooftops, espresso-fueled tech startups with holographic prototypes coded overnight.

Aurelia was revolutionary. Poetry-like war cries. Taekwondo academies and experimental theatre in the same street.

And then there were two. The two that held your story between them.

Mehrasht , your home. Capital: Rajmaer . A country where science was the tenet; where teenagers programmed robots in ancient courtyards, and RIOSAF — Rajmaer Institute of Sciences & Innovation — stood like a temple for the mind. You’d entered its gates at fifteen, graduating by nineteen as one of their youngest astrophysics scholars. It wasn’t easy. It never is. But it was everything.

And now?

Atelora. Capital: Solune . The mountains watched over the city like protectors. Rain fell often, perfect for writing and introspection. The monsoon was very similar to your home and often brought you comfort. This was where you studied creative writing now — SMAI , Solune Music & Arts Institute . Modest in size, but fierce in passion. Here, painters drew images beyond explanation, philosophers debated and musicians wrote symphonies inspired by heartbreak.

Even though you were technically a “transfer student,” your presence had stirred curiosity from the moment you stepped onto campus. You were young, just twenty, already holding a degree, already having stared down and solving equations that made most students shudder. And yet you chose stories. You chose metaphors. You chose a blank page over a telescope lens– for now at least. Still, the stars never quite left you. You saw them in your writing.

And sometimes you saw them in him .

You had become extremely close friends with a group of 8 artistic men. Kim Hongjoong, Jeong Yunho, Kang Yeosang, Choi San, Song Mingi, Jung Wooyoung, Choi Jongho.

And of course Park Seonghwa. The incarnation of your desires.

When you first set your gaze upon him in your shared mythology class, it felt as though time itself had stopped ticking, going against the very physics you spent years getting a degree over. The irony of it never failed to baffle you. It wasn't his looks—although that man was undeniably beautiful—it was the book he was reading. It was about the rich culture and mythology of your country, of Mehrasht. You didn't have the courage to approach him and chose to sit a row ahead of him. Yeosang sat next to you and his curiosity got the best of him and he started asking about your astrophysics degree. You both bonded over your love for space and mythology. He introduced you to the rest of his group and you all clicked instantly, their accepting and loving nature helping you in a new country and school. When you realised that Seonghwa was part of their group, you almost started believing in a god.

—

The campus library was nearly empty. Golden light pooling through stained glass. You're sitting on the floor between the philosophy and poetry sections, legs crossed, hoodie sleeves pushed to your elbows, eyes locked on your laptop screen. Seonghwa finds you there. He just sits beside you, a quiet gravity. He’s of course still shy due to your friendship being new, but still open minded and curious about your nature.

“You’re writing something new?” he asks softly.

You close your laptop halfway, unsure. “It’s not finished.”

“Neither is the story of our lives,” he murmurs. “But it is still beautiful is it not.”

You hesitate… then open it again and slide it toward him. The title reads:

“Orbit; Closer to Me”

He reads in silence, his eyes taking in every piece of your literary marvel.

The story follows two satellites. Drifting, spinning, drawn toward the same dying planet. One is built to observe, the other to destroy. But they keep circling, unable to touch, always a second too late. Always on the opposite side of the planet. In a way it resembled you and Seonghwa. Your tendency to always search for more, your ambition and constant drive causing things to fall around you; to be destroyed. And Seonghwa, who observed everyone with tender eyes.

At the very end, one of the satellites whispers: "If I had met you in another world, would the universe allow me to love you completely? Would we be closer?"

Seonghwa’s hand tightens on the laptop. “Woah,” he says, voice raw, “Holy shit.”

You don't look at him. Not yet. “It’s fiction,” you say.

“Then let me live in it,” he replies with a chuckle.

You finally turn, eyes meeting him. Your voice, when it comes, is steady.

“Do you think stars could have a mind of their own and fall in love?”

Seonghwa pauses and takes in the character of your question, deeply thinking of a good and honest answer.

“Only the brightest ones,” he answers. “The ones who burn knowing they’ll die. Because they know what true love is.”

You smile. And for the first time in a long time, you don't feel like you're drifting, you don’t feel hollow.

—

Over time, the eight of them became family. Your corner of comfort. Music and lyrical composition with Hongjoong and Mingi. Long philosophical conversations with Yeosang. Soft, contemporary dance lessons which Yunho begged to teach you. Chaotic sleepovers at your place with Wooyoung and San. Karaoke, pranks and card games with Jongho. And despite how new everything had once felt, your world here, in Atelora, in Solune, began to feel a little more like home .

Still, with Seonghwa, things moved... differently. At first, he barely spoke to you. Not out of disinterest, but out of something that almost felt like reverence. Like he didn’t want to ruin something fragile and rare just by getting too close. He listened more than he talked. Always watching, always gently smiling.

But slowly, things shifted after that day in the library.

It started with shared glances during lectures. Long, held eye contact across the seminar room which ended with both of you looking away with blushes coating your cheeks. Then came the silent routine of walking out of class together, neither of you planning it, but always falling into step as if the universe programmed it.

One day, he tapped your shoulder with a quiet, “Hey Y/N,” as you were packing your notes. You turned — breath caught somewhere between your ribs due to his touch— only to find him holding your Mehrashtri fountain pen.

“You dropped this.” It was such a small thing. But when his fingers brushed yours the hum of the world changed frequency.

—

A study session just the two of you was meant to be about ancient symbolism in myths, but somehow ending with him asking about your favorite stars.

“Do you still look up at them?” he asked one night.

“Always,” you replied. “Even when I write, I think I’m trying to translate starlight into words.”

He’d gone quiet for a moment. Then, softly:

“That’s beautiful.”

You’re beautiful , you almost said. But didn’t.

Instead, you let yourself fall in love with his presence. The way he gently corrected your posture when you slouched over your notebook, pushed up your glasses with a laugh as they slipped. The way he hummed under his breath when reading. The way he memorized your favorite coffee or chai order and even started bringing it without asking. The way he cared for his 7 brothers, mother hen style.

He started borrowing your books. You started sketching constellations in his notes. When he spoke about Mehrasht, he did so with admiration. Not as someone who studied it from afar, but as someone who now saw it through your eyes.

Sometimes, you caught him looking at you like you were a story he was trying to finish; or maybe one he was too scared to begin.

He didn’t say it, not yet. But Seonghwa was falling.

And you. Brilliant, quiet, starlit. Were becoming his galaxy.

—

One afternoon, you were in your car, inching out of campus traffic, when you spotted Seonghwa stepping through the front doors of the main building.

“Seonghwa!” you called out, rolling your window down.

His head lifted from where he’d been tucking a pencil into his tote. He turned toward the sound of your voice, eyes scanning until they landed on you, and then, he smiled. That soft, radiant smile that made your heart do impossible things. He jogged over, tote swinging at his side.

“Hey, Y/N! Heading home?”

“Yep. Want a ride?” you asked, eyes lighting up with a mix of mischief and sincerity.

There was a flicker of hesitation in his gaze, subtle, but you didn’t catch it.

“If it’s not a problem,” he said gently.

“My love, you are far from a problem. You’re my salvation,” you replied, lips curling into a flirty smirk.

The blush was immediate. A red flush crept from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears, blooming beautifully across his cheeks.

“Spoken like a true creative writing major,” he murmured, looking away with a grin.

You laughed. “Get in, loser.”

He didn’t hesitate after that. He opened the passenger door and slid in, and just like that, the two of you were back in your orbit. The two of you sang along to songs from both your countries, laughing at each other’s dramatic falsettos and purposely missed notes. His pronunciation in your mother tongue never failed to impress you. At this point, Seonghwa was an honorary Mehrashtri. When you finally pulled up in front of their shared house, Seonghwa turned to you, his expression softening. He reached for your hands, took them into his, and pressed gentle kisses to your knuckles.

“Thank you for the ride,” he whispered.

You didn’t need to reply. The smile you gave him said enough.

As your friendship grew, so did the bravery to start being physically affectionate with each other. Closer than you even realized. He had started reaching out to you more, sitting beside you even when there were other open seats, touching your wrist when he wanted your attention, letting his hand linger longer than necessary when passing you notes. And you… you welcomed it all.

Every graze of fingers, every shoulder bump, every brush of knees. It was intoxicating. Friends, yes, but always on the verge of something more. That tension definitely did not go unnoticed.

Jongho and Wooyoung were relentless in their teasing towards you . Hongjoong and Yunho, on the other hand, took it upon themselves to push Seonghwa — nudging him with pointed looks and strategic wingmanning. The seven of them were on a mission to get their oldest with you.

As you drove away that day, you waved at him through the window. He stood at the curb, watching you disappear into the streetlight-dappled horizon. Then, sighing to himself he turned and walked inside.

What you didn’t know, what you still didn’t know, was this:

Seonghwa had driven himself to campus that day. His car was parked in the northern lot.

But the second he heard your voice calling his name, he didn’t even think twice. Jumped into your car with a smile and a heart beating faster than it should’ve. He never regretted it. Not even when he walked all the way back to campus just to retrieve his car later that night.

Because love — or something dangerously close to it — was worth walking miles and miles for.

And you… beautiful you; were always worth it.

—

You hadn’t meant to overhear. You really hadn’t. You were just trying to return a book Hongjoong lent you. But when you rounded the corner near the media lounge, voices froze you in place.

“I think I’m in love with her,” Seonghwa’s voice was quiet, raw.

Behind the bookshelf divider, you could see Hongjoong’s silhouette leaned against the piano, Seonghwa pacing slowly, his slender alarms crossed.

“Seonghwa, we've all known that. We’ve been trying to get you to admit it too…but tell me why you finally think so, get it off your chest,” Hongjoong asked gently.

Seonghwa let out a breath. “She’s quiet, but intense. She’s like a black hole wearing headphones. Like, you know something massive is happening under the surface and it hums through the air when she’s near.”

You bit the inside of your cheek at his attempt of building a metaphor. Your hands curled around the book in your grip.

“She understands loneliness. Being in a new country, with a new culture and new people. With a new major and more dreams. Her ambition is always drifting but she doesn't understand it in a sad way — it's more like gravity. Always there, always pulling, and she still manages to orbit it gracefully.”

There was a pause, then softer:

“She writes notes related to astrophysics in her margins. Combining science and arts. Little ones. Precise. Brutal. She’s smarter than any of us and doesn’t flaunt it. But I see it. God , Hongjoong. Her weird ass writes poetry in binary and has all the locations of the stars in the night sky memorised and I love her for it.”

Hongjoong said something inaudible along the lines of “that cute lil nerd,” and Seonghwa laughed once, short and breathless.

“She once wrote this short story called ‘Singularity’ for her project. It was about a black hole shrinking due to radiation. The whole thing was a breakup metaphorical allegory, but it hurt. I’ve read it twelve times ever since she sent that PDF. And I still don’t know if I want to cry or kiss her. Everything she does, everything she writes or creates, I fall in love with because it's a part of her.”

Your body betrayed you in that moment and a soft gasp escaped before you could swallow it down.

And silence. Hongjoong’s eyes meeting yours and widening, lips parting.

Then, “Y/N?” Seonghwa’s voice, closer now, cautious.

You turned and ran.

—

You don’t respond to his texts for the rest of the day. But that night, as promised every Friday, you show up.

The rooftop above the humanities building was forgotten by most but sacred to you both. A medium-powered telescope hung over the edge of the rail, but you ignored it, your own scope slung over your shoulder. You always brought the better one. He was already there, wrapped in a black hoodie, eyes flicking up the second he felt your presence. Like gravity itself had shifted.

You set your bag down on the old four-legged charpai, the ropes creaking just a little. Quietly, you pulled out your telescope and began adjusting it, setting the lens on Jupiter — your favorite.

Seonghwa didn’t say a word. He just watched you. In the way he always did. Like you were made of dark matter and wonder.

“I wasn’t supposed to hear,” you finally said, voice low, eyes still on the stars.

Seonghwa turned his head, his gaze soft, unflinching. “I’m not sorry you did.”

You let out a breath, half-laugh, half-crack. “Seonghwa… I’m complicated. And I’ve always assumed that was too much for people.”

You sat down on the edge of the charpai, hands clasped between your knees. “Throughout my life, I believed no one would ever truly understand me. My weird love for weird things. The way I talk to myself, the way I disappear into my own mind. I’ve always been… too much or not enough.”

You looked up at the stars, eyes settling on Altair, blinking hard. “My mind never stops. It spirals. One second I’m calculating exoplanetary distances and the next—as you noticed— I’m writing poetry in binary. I dove right back into school for creative writing because I felt… hollow. And for funsies, apparently.”

You laughed once, bitter and real.

“I’ve never had a boyfriend. Most of my life I’ve just… existed in loneliness. Whispering to walls when I needed someone to listen. Friend groups leaving. Family never really understanding my soul. My skin’s marked with scars I’ve learned to love — my own little craters and constellations — but I still don’t always feel beautiful. I’m not put together. I’m a mess half the time. And you? Seonghwa, I'm jealous of how beautiful you look all the time. I look like a greaseball in a hoodie and you look like some runway model in yours.”

Your voice broke just a little as you laughed in denial. “But somehow… you love all the parts of me I’ve spent years hating. And that?...That fucking terrifies me, Seonghwa.”

You finally turned to face him, eyes burning, lip trembling just slightly. “Why, Seonghwa? Why would you love someone like me, when no one else has?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he crossed the small space between you, sinking to his knees before the charpai, resting his hands on either side of your legs, face close enough that you could feel his breath. His eyes searched yours, and when he spoke, his voice was steady.

“Because you don’t pretend. You don’t dress up your soul to fit someone else’s standards. You’re chaos and constellations and wild brilliance, but you let me orbit around you anyway.”

He touched your hand, gently. “You say you’re hard to love, but I’ve never felt such fire in my heart before. You talk about loneliness like it’s something shameful, but I see it in your writing, in your silence, and I think you turn it into something beautiful. If anyone could understand the quiet parts of me, it’s you. Not Hongjoong, not our other 6 little idiots, you. What I have taken and perceived from you, I can say without a doubt, you are probably the best thing that has happened in my life for a while.”

His fingers traced the back of your knuckles. “You don’t need fixing. You’re not ‘too much or ‘not enough’ You’re... vast. Like the universe. Perfectly designed, like the universe. And I’m just grateful you let me be a part of yours.”

You blinked, and the tears fell from your eyes, cascading down your cheeks. He wiped them with his thumb like he was handling stardust.

And when you leaned into him, forehead to forehead, noses touching, lips brushing each others, heart cracking open under the starlight, you whispered:

“Stay with me tonight.”

“I was never going to leave,” he murmured.

And somewhere in the distance, Jupiter glowed quietly.

Witness to your unfolding as your lips connected with each other.

—

It had been a while since that night.

The two of you claimed your relationship. It was too strong, too cosmic, to be labeled with something as soft as ‘boyfriend and girlfriend’ . That felt like trying to describe a galaxy with a single syllable; inaccurate, reductive.

You two were more than that. More like twin stars caught in mutual orbit. Irrational but perfectly everywhere like π.

You existed around each other in ways you didn’t have to define. Only feel. And it was mutual. In public, your fingers found his under tables. In private, his lips found yours, his hands caressing your skin.

Tonight was different. Tonight you gave yourself to him.

Your apartment door clicks shut behind you, muffling the distant throb of the club’s bass still echoing in your body. You’re breathless, flushed from dancing and drinks and the way Seonghwa kept hand possessive on the small of your back, his breath always brushing your skin, his gaze burning through your dress like you were already naked beneath it. He was jealous and worked up over the vision of you on the dance floor with Wooyoung and Yunho. His fists almost crushed the glass he was holding when Wooyoung pressed up behind you while holding your hips.

Now, in the quiet of your space, you’re vibrating with the weight of it all; wanting, needing.

He watches you as you slip off your heels, movements slow and slightly unsteady. The dress hugs you like sin, and he doesn’t move for a second, just lets his eyes trail down your figure. The bend of your body allowed him to just get a small peek of your navy blue lace panties and he had to control himself right then and there. You placed your heels into the shoe closet and turned to look at him. His eyes were darkened, full of lust and you gulped.

“You look unreal tonight,” he says, voice low, roughened by restraint. His other hand reaches for your jaw, thumb brushing your cheekbone. “You have no idea what it did to me, watching everyone else look at you, dance with you. And knowing you were only ever going home with me.”

You breathe out a quiet laugh, nerves and heat mixing. “I wasn’t even the prettiest one there. I mean, did you see Princess Mingi?” Attempting a joke to ease the tension.

Seonghwa pauses. His brow furrows. “Say that again,” he murmurs, pulling you close, backing you gently against the wall.

Your breath hitches. “I said��”

“No,” he cuts you off. “Don’t. Don’t joke. Don’t talk down on what I consider sacred.”

Your heart stutters. His lips brush your jaw. “You really have no idea, do you?” His mouth moves lower, his voice barely a whisper.

He lifts you swiftly, throwing you over his shoulder and you scream; instinctively pushing to get down by flailing your legs but Seonghwa smacks your ass, denying you. “Don’t fool around, starlight. You're not escaping me.” He sets you down, facing the mirror and stands behind you, tall, sculpted, the heat of him seeping into your spine.

“I need you to see what I see,” he murmurs, lips ghosting your ear.

Your mouth parts, heart racing. He brushes your hair aside, kissing the back of your neck slowly.

His hands slowly unzip your dress. “Look at you,” he whispers. “ God , look at you.”

The fabric slips down your arms like a sigh. Your bra and panties match, navy blue lace, fragile against your skin—and the moment your dress pools around your feet, he lets out a soft, “ fuck ”.

His hands find the plush of your hips, kneading just a little, slowly moving up so that his thumbs brush your ribs. He kisses your shoulder and the stretch marks that lay there. Celestial fault lines—beauty forged under pressure.

His fingers slip beneath your bra strap and drag it down slowly, and you shudder.

“I’m going to make you feel everything,” he says.

You nod, breath catching.

Seonghwa unhooks your bra and slides it down your arms, dropping it to the floor. His hands move to your breasts—gentle, as if touching something divine. His thumbs circle your nipples and you moan, back arching slightly, head falling onto his shoulder.

“Perfect,” he murmurs. “So perfect it hurts.”

You feel his bulge press against your lower back, and your breath hitches.

Then he kneels. Right in front of you. Holding your hands and kissing them with such gentle affection.

“Watch me.”

Seonghwa’s fingers find the waistband of your panties and slides them down slowly—agonisingly slow—pressing kisses to your hips, your thighs, the soft curve of your stomach. His hands settle on the back of your thighs pulling you closer to his face. When his mouth finally descends, you arch with a gasp, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer. He doesn’t let you hide, doesn’t let you pull away from the way he fucks you with his tongue. You nearly collapse when you look down and see his dragon-like eyes set on your face.

But he’s not fast. He’s not rough. He takes his time, like you’re a language he’s learning by mouth alone. Tongue soft. Then firm. Then soft again. Teasing, tasting, licking.

“Stay still baby,” he says as you squirm just a little, voice muffled against your cunt. “Let me worship you.”

You grip his beautiful black hair, threading your hands through it.

His tongue moves with unbearable precision; deeper, firmer, until your reflection blurs with the pleasure cresting in your lower belly. His lips wrap around your clit and you gasp loudly.

“Seonghwa—”

He hums against you, continuing his ministrations. “Say my name.”

“Seonghwa.”

“Again.” He suckles gently.

“ Seonghwa !” You moan his name helplessly, begging for some sort of release.

“You taste like fucking stardust,” he groans, and you let out a sound that borders on a sob, thighs trembling around his head.

His eyes are on you again, the peaks of your breasts pushed out due to your arch and your mouth gently open, head thrown back, moans escaping you.

He’s not happy. You aren't listening to him. He told you to watch.

His mouth moves away from your folds and he plunges two fingers into your wet, seeping hole without warning causing you to shriek and tighten your grip on his hair.

“Hwa – fuckk ! What–what are you doing?!” You yell softly, unconsciously pushing your hips down on his fingers, fucking yourself with them.

He slaps your ass and red marks are left behind in his wake. His eyebrows are furrowed, his eyes teasingly angry as they meet yours. “What did I say? Hmm? I told you to watch. ”

“I'm sorry, I’m so sorry Hwa please–” you beg.

“Don’t you dare look away.” He presses his fingers in deeper, his lips latching on to your sensitive bundle of nerves again. “Eyes up, beautiful. Watch how you fall apart for me.”

You do.

You see your own mouth part, your hips trembling as he devours you like a man in devotion. His fingers curl, hitting the right spots inside you — thrusting, curling, pulling out and plunging again. When you come, it's not quiet. It’s messy, overwhelming, and he stays with you through every second, hands firm on your outer thighs, mouth relentless. He kisses and gently bites your inner thighs after, like he's thanking them.

You think he's stopped? You thought wrong.

Not even a second later he’s spreading his tongue over the entirety of your core, making sure no drop of your nectar goes to waste.

“Give me more. Give me everything.” He groans, ignoring your shrieks of overstimulation.

The lewd, wet sounds that ring throughout the air make your cheeks flare up but Seonghwa is completely unabashed. Deep moans escape from his honed voice as he traces your folds.

“Cum for me,” he says. “Give it to me, baby. Be a good girl.”

You do. Again. Shuddering. Repeating his name like salvation.

And he rises. Licks his lips. Takes his belt off with one hand while steadying you with the other.

He doesn’t let you breathe for long. His mouth crashes to yours as he undresses fully. You can taste yourself on him and it makes your breath hitch for a second. Tongues dancing around each other as he slowly pushes you backwards to the edge of the bed with his weight. His hands are busy unbuttoning his shirt and removing his boxers. His length slaps against his stomach, hot, heavy and red. You look down, his lips leaving yours with a pout.

God . Oh god. He was dripping . White, pearly, sticky essence beading at his tip.

“Oh Hwa, is this all for me?” You ask, confidence rises.

“You think I can have a taste of you and not end up like this?” He smiles, realising how your demeanour changed.

You smirk and your hand makes its way to his curved cock and you slowly pump him.

“Fuckkk~ Y/N . No, princess.”

You don't stop. You feel the vein on the underside of his length and tremble at the thought of him inside you. And not even a second later as if he read your mind, stops you.

“No love please, I need to–I need to, God! Ah~ come inside you.” Your eyes widen, goosebumps littering your skin at his declaration. His fingers wrap around your wrists stopping the motion.

He’s holding back, grounding himself in you, for you.

He lifts you effortlessly and your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, his cock rubbing against your core. You’re breathless, gripping his shoulders, stunned by how easy it is for him to move you like this, to hold you like you weigh nothing.

He lays you down like something precious. Seonghwa was mesmerised by the state of you on the bed; vulnerable, naked and all his. Your hair contrasted against the bright silk of the bedsheets and sprawled out around you like a halo. He climbs over you slowly taking his time with your body, dragging his lips across your stomach, your ribs, the curve of your tits.

“You’re a goddess,” he says, voice thick. “And I’m going to worship you properly.”

“Oh, Seonghwa, you beautiful man. I can’t believe you're all mine.” You whisper against his lips which peck yours, eyes showing nothing but love. Pure, unfiltered love.

“All yours. And I'm going to show you. Gonna fuck you,” he breathes. “And you’re going to watch. Every. Single. Second.”

You wrap your arms around the back of his neck.

He lifts your thigh and slides in slow, stretching you, filling you, making you feel it.

You’re already so wrecked but he doesn’t let you hide. Doesn’t let you look away.

“Look at me,” he growls, gripping your jaw, “I want to see your face when I ruin you.”

Your eyes meet his and he smirks devilishly at your fucked out expression.

Was this the same Seonghwa you believed was an angel? Or a sex demon who bound himself to you and you only.

“You feel like fucking heaven,” he moans, “tight, warm… made for me.”

Your nails dig into his back, gasps spilling freely now, but he doesn’t stop. One hand grips your jaw, keeping your eyes on him, the other sliding between your bodies to rub circles on your clit. You’re soaked, overstimulated, and yet you still want more. Need more.

He gives it to you. All of it. Every thrust is praise. Every groan is adoration. He kisses your scars. Holds your gaze. Whispers all the things he loves — your mind, your madness, your quiet power, your wild soul.

“You’re mine,” he grits out, hips relentless.

“I’m yours~” you whisper, wrecked.

He goes deeper, the bulb of his cock brushing your cervix and the sensitive areas of your walls. He’s let go of your jaw but your eyes are still locked onto his.

“Seonghwa oh my–fuckk baby right there…dont fucking stop!”

“Say it again.” He snarls.

“I’m yours, Hwa. I’m all yours, my star.”

He moves. Deep. Intentional. Worshipful.

“That's right,” he grits through his teeth, one hand splayed low on your stomach to feel where he is inside you. “This body. This heart. Every moan, every breath — all fucking mine.”

“All yours, yes~!” You groan against his hair, his face buried into the crevice of your neck now.

He thrusts . Again and again, with his body pressed against yours, your name breathed between desperate kisses against the skin of your neck, your legs trembling around him and tears slipping from the corners of your eyes, not from pain, but from the immensity of it all.

“Cum again,” he says, voice commanding but still full of love. “Let me feel you fall apart on my cock.”

Loudly. Shamelessly. Your body seizes under him, muscles clenching, vision going white. You swore you saw the stars you view every night in your telescope. But he doesn’t stop. He keeps going, keeps moving inside you with the patience of someone who’s waited years to worship you like this.

Only when your nails dig too deep, when your legs are shaking violently around his waist, does he finally let go — spilling deep into you with a moan so heavy, so desperate , it sounds like your name carved into the stars of his universe.

Your reflection is ruined.

Lips swollen. Thighs shaking. Eyes wet. Sweat slicking your skin. His seed spilling out of your swollen cunt. And still, he kisses you like you’re divine.

“Still think you’re hard to love?” he whispers while moving back to look at your pretty face again.

You don’t answer. You just pull him back in. Kissing him again and again and again and again.

He whispers praises between every breath. “My starlight, mine. Always.” he murmurs. “I love you. I love you so much Y/N.”

Fat, globs of hot tears spill from your eyes at the pure words he spoke of you. You were loved. So loved.

He pulls back, tears also spilling from his eyes. “Thank you for letting me be yours.”

“No Seonghwa. Thank you for helping me find myself. Thank you for being my north star.”

He smiles, all teeth, eyes crinkling and nose scrunching. He pulls you up and lifts you effortlessly, one arm under your knees and the other wrapped around your shoulders. You loop your arms around his neck, still dizzy from everything, and let him carry you through the soft haze of candlelight to the bathroom.

The tub is already filling, steam rising, the water shimmering with the gentle swirl of jasmine-scented bubbles. He sets you down on the edge, brushes your hair from your face, and helps you in first, never once letting go of your hand. When he joins you, the water sloshes gently around both your bodies as you settle between his legs, your back against his chest.

His arms wrap around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he pulls you close. His fingers trace lazy circles on your thigh under the surface. Not lustful. Just the kind of touch that says ‘ you’re mine’ without needing to say it at all.

“God,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your damp shoulder, “how are you real?”

You hum, leaning into him. “You always ask that.”

“Because I still don’t believe it.”

You giggle at his lovestruck cheesiness.

He rinses your hair with care, fingers untangling the strands gently. When you return the favor, scrubbing his scalp and watching his eyes flutter shut in bliss, you giggle. He opens one eye at the sound and catches the grin on your face. You had put a blob of soapy bubbles on his head, giving him a little hat.

“What?”

“You’re cute like this.”

He raises a brow. “Like what?”

“Melting. For me.” You boop his sharp nose with a sudsy finger.

He smirks and pulls you into his chest, arms curling around you. “I’m always melting for you.”

The warmth of the water, the silence between you, the occasional kiss to your neck or cheek or the valley between your breasts where your heart lay—it all feels suspended in time. He runs his fingers gently through your hair, massaging your scalp until you melt against him with a contented sigh.

When the water cools and your fingers wrinkle, he helps you out with a soft towel and even softer hands. You both dry off in quiet laughter, brushing against each other in the mirror, stealing kisses between getting dressed.

When you both finally leave the bathroom, dry and dressed in the softest clothes you can find, he can’t seem to stop touching you. His hands never leave you as he leads you to the bed, gently guiding you onto the sheets. The bed feels like home, with his body curling around yours, his warmth seeping into your skin.

You lie there, tangled in each other’s arms, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin, tracing your cheeks. The quiet of the night wraps around you like a blanket, but his next words cut through the stillness.

“You are the center of my gravity,” he whispers into your hair, his voice barely holding together. He’s clutching you so tightly it feels like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

You don’t. You’re still there. Glowing. Glorious. His.

“And with you,” he continues, “all the stars are closer.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air, a promise, a truth. You settle deeper into his embrace, feeling the soft, steady rhythm of his heart beneath your ear as you both drift off to sleep, wrapped up in love.

—

The next morning is soft and slow.

Sunlight filters through the curtains, casting golden lines across the bed where you and Seonghwa are still tangled together. His arm is heavy around your waist, his face buried against your hair, breathing you in like he’s still dreaming.

You shift gently, turning in his hold. His eyes crack open, hazy with sleep, and when he sees you, he smiles.

“Morning, angel,” he mumbles, voice still deep and rough with sleep.

You grin, brushing a thumb over his puffy cheeks. “Morning, Hwa.”

There’s a beat of silence where you just look at each other. Then his phone buzzes on the nightstand, shattering the bubble. He groans dramatically, reaching for it without letting go of you.

It’s the group chat.

Hongjoong: Rise and shine, lovebirds 😈. You guys better not bail on camping today ⛺

Yeosang: If you’re late, we’re leaving you behind.

San: we would never 💗 but hurry tf up i want s’mores.

Wooyoung: get yall’s gigachad asses up

You laugh, and Seonghwa grins into your neck.

“Guess it’s time to pack,” you say, nose scrunching.

“After I kiss you at least ten more times,” he murmurs, already pressing soft, lazy kisses down your throat, making you giggle and squirm.

Eventually, after a chaotic half-hour of trying (and failing) to stay focused, you both throw together your backpacks—tossing in sleeping bags, clothes, snacks, extra jackets, and, of course, your beloved star map and high-powered telescope.

By the time you arrive at the meeting points the boys are already there, buzzing with excitement near the rented van and having way too much energy for how early it is.

The second they see you two hand-in-hand, sunglasses on, looking very much like you did not sleep early last night, the teasing starts immediately.

“Oh look,” Wooyoung cackles, elbowing Yunho. “The stars themselves have descended to grace us with their presence.”

Yeosang smirks. “Took you long enough. Busy being constellations?”

Mingi fake swoons dramatically into Jongho’s arms. “Love is in the air.”

Hongjoong just grins knowingly, arms crossed. “Hope you saved some energy for setting up camp, lovers .”

You flush hot all the way to your ears, ducking your head into Seonghwa’s side to hide your face. He just chuckles lowly, tugging you closer and pressing a kiss to your temple in front of everyone without a single ounce of shame.

“She’s my star,” he says simply, proud and unabashed.

There’s a beat of stunned silence—before San lets out a shriek of pure secondhand embarrassment.

“Bro what the hell!,” San yells, throwing a handful of trail mix at him.

“Get a room! WAIT NO GET A TENT,” Wooyoung howls.

You laugh so hard you can barely breathe as everyone dissolves into chaos around you.

—

By the time the sun dips behind the mountains, you’ve made camp.

It’s messy, hilarious teamwork — Yunho struggling with the pop-up tent instructions, Jongho methodically getting the fire going like a boss, you and Seonghwa set up your shared tent quietly but efficiently, moving like a real team.

Across the clearing, a commotion breaks out.

"WHY IS THE TENT COLLAPSING ON ME?!" Wooyoung’s voice shatters the peaceful mountain air.

"BECAUSE YOU MOVED TOO MUCH, YOU FREAKING FLAILING NOODLE," San screeches back.

You and Seonghwa exchange a knowing glance and peer over. There, in a heap of tangled tent fabric, two legs kick furiously in the air.

Hongjoong, pinching the bridge of his nose, mutters darkly, "I knew we should’ve supervised them."

Meanwhile, Yeosang stands off to the side, completely unbothered, recording the chaos on his phone with a blank, documentary-worthy expression.

You lean into Seonghwa and murmur, "Survival of the fittest," your voice low enough that only he hears. He nearly doubles over, laughing silently as he tries to contain it, shoulders shaking.

Eventually, all the tents stand (miraculously) and the fire roars to life, throwing flickering gold light over tired, grinning faces. The chill of the night seeps in, crisp and clean, while above, the stars unfurl like an endless, shimmering ocean.

Wooyoung insists on playing Truth or Dare. And naturally, his first victim is Jongho.

"Truth," Jongho says confidently, unaware of the chaos he has just invited.

Wooyoung leans in, eyes glinting wickedly. "Do you sing to your plants?"

A beat of dead silence. Every head swivels to Jongho.

"...They grow better when they feel loved," Jongho says, entirely unashamed.

The camp erupts. Laughter echoes off the trees, even Seonghwa letting out a rare, loud laugh that warms the whole circle.

Hongjoong smirks and turns to you next. "Truth or Dare, Y/N?"

You roll your eyes at Wooyoung’s dramatic drumroll. “Truth.”

San groans, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you. “Y/N, you coward! A dare would've been so much more fun!” His pout deepens until Seonghwa casually slaps the back of his head from behind you..

Hongjoong’s gaze pins you in place, sharp and curious. "Would you marry Seonghwa in the future?"

Time freezes. Every pair of eyes zeroes in on you.

You feel your face heat up as you glance down, shy but smiling. “Yes.”

The reaction is instant and cataclysmic.

“PLAY THE WEDDING MARCH!” Yunho shouts, springing to his feet.

Mingi immediately starts blaring an off-key trumpet impression, stomping around like he’s in a parade.

Hongjoong, grinning wickedly, yeets a burnt marshmallow straight at Seonghwa’s head. "You lucky bastard!"

Seonghwa turns crimson, the firelight making it even more obvious, and the group bursts into a cacophony of teasing "awwws" and gagging noises.

"Okay, okay, can a girl live?" you protest, laughing. "San, since you wanted chaos so badly, you're next."

San’s eyes gleam like a mischievous gremlin. "Dare."

You smirk. "Lick the bottom of Yunho’s sock."

All hell breaks loose.

"AW HELL NAH!" Yunho screeches, jumping back from San who is devilishly biting his lips and rubbing his hands together like a fly. "Y'ALL NASTY ASSES."

The dares spiral more and more ridiculous until finally, giggling and exhausted, you all call it quits for the night. While setting up the sleeping bags in your shared tent, you hear Mingi’s outraged yell slice through the night. “Who the fuck took Y/N’s leftover chips? She saved those for me!”

But no one had taken them … so who or what–? A sound interrupts the silence. The ruffling of a chip bag, and it's from none you.

San leaps up, eyes wild. “I knew I heard something outside!” He runs to the sound and finds himself in front of a little friend.

You find San staring down a fat ass raccoon that has zero fear and is currently chewing on your chips.

Yeosang is right behind you and whispers, “Y/N, I think that’s your spirit animal,” and you die laughing because it is literally you.

“GIVE THAT BACK, YOU STRIPED CRIMINAL!” Mingi roars, lunging forward like he’s storming a battlefield.

The raccoon doesn’t run. It stares. Unbothered. Unmoved. It judges him.

Yeosang tries to stop the poor idiot, walking towards him. “Mingi, you’re gonna get rabies.”

San puts his hand on Yeosang’s shoulder stopping him. “At least he’ll go out dramatically.” Ever the agent of chaos.

—

Morning comes soft and misty, the sky dusted with gold as you blink awake in an empty tent. Seonghwa was already gone, off helping Hongjoong prep for the group hike. You stumble out into the chill morning air. San’s hair is a disaster, sticking up like he got electrocuted, while Mingi stumbles around, eyes squinted against the sunlight. You wander toward the campfire and nearly trip at the sight.

Yunho, looking disgustingly handsome and backlit like a prince, flips pancakes with a ridiculous amount of grace. Beside him, Seonghwa arranges a fruit platter so perfectly it belongs in a five-star hotel. And somehow, he looks even more delicious than the food.

You sneak up behind him, sliding your arms around his waist. “Good morning, Hwa.”

He hums warmly, leaning back into you. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm. With you? Always.”

The nine of you eat a sleepy, happy breakfast together before getting ready for the hike. Halfway up the trail, it all goes to hell when San chases a butterfly straight into the woods and Wooyoung gets distracted by a squirrel doing, in his words, "weird ninja stuff while looking like Hongjoong"

You and Seonghwa fall behind, walking slowly, hands entwined.

“I still think you tricked me into loving you,” you say.

He glances over, amused. “How so?”

“You’re too perfect. I feel like I glitched the universe or something.”

He stops walking. “You are the glitch,” he whispers, tilting your chin up. “My favorite kind of anomaly.”

And then he kisses you so gently, so completely, that the woods go quiet — even the bugs stop bugging.

Until Hongjoong’s voice shatters it from a distance: "YOU TWO HEADASSES BETTER STOP FRENCHING AND GET BACK TO THE GROUP!"

The entire day is spent doing fun activities — skipping stones across the glittering lake, racing up mossy trails, daring each other to jump into the freezing water below the waterfall. Yunho and Mingi get into a splash war that soaks everyone within a ten-foot radius, while Jongho sits dry on a rock, pretending he doesn’t know any of you. Wooyoung and San challenge Hongjoong to a stone-skipping contest and dramatically accuse him of witchcraft when he wins.

But then comes the time to leave. The sun dips low again, the air cooling, the shadows stretching long. Tents are packed away, ashes are buried under earth, and the clearing that had been so alive with your chaos slowly returns to stillness.

Everyone is crammed into the rental van. Bags piled high. Snacks demolished. Legs squished.

Sitting with Seonghwa and Yeosang in the way-back row, you’re drowsy from the camping high but the chaos of the van doesn't allow you to fall into slumber.

“Yo,” Wooyoung says, twirling the AUX cord. “I have the perfect song.”

Jongho squints. “I swear to god—”

The song consisted of high bass boosted beats and explicit words and moans that speak of sex.

Jongho screams at Wooyoung “BRO.”

Yunho, driving, screams the lyrics into the windshield, jamming to the song while being in charge of everyone's lives. Mingi opens a window and belts into the wind. Meanwhile, you're frozen.

He raises a brow. “Funny song. Lyrics sound familiar?”

You elbow him. “Do not make me jump out of this moving vehicle.”

“Jump and I’m jumping with you.”

Wooyoung turns around with devil eyes. “Ohhh, you’re blushingg. Confirmed post-coital energy. You freaky lil mofos.”

Jongho lunges over the seat. “I will STRANGLE YOU with your OWN AUX CORD.”

Wooyoung’s gremlin noises take over the van and Hongjoong holds himself back. The van goes over a bump, everyone screams, the song switches to ballad music mid-scream.

Two full hours of pure discord.

–

You all decide to go to their house, planning on sleeping over there anyways; you packed extra clothes.

Mingi attempts to carry all the bags inside at once like some tragic pack mule, wobbling like a cursed tower of luggage. Yeosang watches him with the slow, unblinking gaze of a man waiting for nature to take its course and sure enough, Mingi collapses under the weight with a majestic crash.

Jongho silently takes three bags — huge bags — and hauls them inside with a smirk on his face, asserting his strength.

Meanwhile, you get out of the van and steady yourself on your feet, smoothing down your hair, “We barely survived that.” you say to Seonghwa, who's grabbing your astrophotography tech from on top of Mingi.

As you stagger toward the house, you hear Mingi, still flat on the grass, shouting, "HEY, WHO'S GONNA HELP ME? UH HELLO?? ARE YOU ALL JUST GONNA LEAVE ME HERE TO DIE??"

Yeosang, without looking back, just says, "You'll be fine. Natural selection."

The front door slams open, and a yell echoes from San inside. "THE FUCKING RACCOON CAME BACK WITH US!!"

Chaos unfurls.

Screams, wild laughter, the thundering of feet. Pure, reckless joy spilling out into the neighborhood.

But this. This beautiful, absurd, ridiculous mess — is exactly how you want it. You glance over at Seonghwa through the swirl of mayhem, and he’s already looking at you, laughing. And you feel complete. You feel at peace.

In a universe full of infinite galaxies and in a timeline that could have gone a million different ways…

You found him and he found you. And somehow, across all odds, you collided. But not a crash. Not an explosion. But an orbit. Not a destructive gravity but a soft one.

One — like Seonghwa said — that makes all the stars feel closer.

And you became his favorite constellation. The one he’ll spend every lifetime tracing, loving, watching and wishing on.

Every night. Every sky. Every universe. Every time.

----

End Note:

fix off ;)

(yes i have written poetry in binary--no it was not fun--it was an assignment)

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beuxwhoyouare · 4 months ago

Text

The Innovation

We stood in a line waiting for Jordan to make his way towards us one by one.

“What’s your name, height, age, and role?” Jordan, the tall scientist and my relatively new friend asked me in a way that felt colder than our usual interactions.

“Riley Michael Kingston. I’m 5’ 10” 28 years old and I’m a research assistant.”

The latest cuts left our university’s research labs unable to pay lab participants. We had to get thrifty so some of the research assistants stepped up to be participants in one another’s projects. Admittedly I got to take part in one of the coolest ones left here. The creation of a semi-autonomous exoskeleton meant to help disabled people do things they currently couldn’t.

Jordan was so different outside of the lab, it was so weird to see him being so professional instead of being just chill. Up until this point we’ve tested limbs individually but today was going to be our first full exoskeleton tests. He’s been so busy this week working on preparations. Truthfully I didn’t know the full suit would require this much more prep but up until this point it’s been a pretty calm experience. Just coming in and doing remedial physical therapy routines with a mechanical limb for an hour.

Today we were apparently doing much more than that but I didn’t know how far we were going. I walked in to see the full exoskeleton hung up on hooks and wires.

“Strip down to your underwear, I have to place a few nodes on you to prepare you properly.” Jordan calmly directed.

“Oh? I didn’t know we were getting this intimate today. Also I thought this was an EXO-skeleton. Meaning it goes outside my limbs. It looks like you build a whole mechanical body?” I noted.

“It’s a lot more complicated than just an exoskeleton study. Also you’re gonna feel a little pinch with this neck node. It has a needle for monitoring. Don’t worry it won’t hurt once it’s in.”

Before I could interject to ask more, I felt the node get stabbed in.

Jordan guided me to an upright platform and instructed me to get onto it face forward to not obstruct the nodes. In an IV in my hand he injected something before I could question him again.

“Count backwards from 200.” Jordan told me.

I didn’t know I was going to be knocked out for this? But it was too late to object, I just obliged ignorantly. Before I knew it, I passed out but almost immediately I felt awake again, minus the sight. It felt like the haziness of a dream but the clarity of being awake.

“Oh he’s waking up, wait here. Riley you’re awake, good. Lemme turn that on so you can see again.” Jordan said coldly once again.

What does that even mean? Before I could ask, my sight returned but it felt very sharp? Like artificial and digital, very impersonal.

I tried to get up and move but was held back by the hooks…..and wires? Huh? As I tried to look down all I could see was translucent white covering a bunch of white wires. I was on the opposite side of the room I was on previously.

“What’s going on?” I said in a voice that sounded amplified more than projected through a diaphragm.

“Well it’s part of the experiment. I’m not exactly making an exoskeleton. The goal has been two pronged. One, to create a new corporal form to let people with terminal illnesses live longer and not be robbed of their lives. And two, program a learning model that can exist inside existing bodies of criminals that receive the death penalty. A perfectly good body shouldn’t go to waste just because the wrong person is piloting it. This way we can expedite reform. Take the broken parts out and put a brand new upstanding citizen back into the world.”

Riley put one and two together as he struggled on the wires. Part one of the experiment worked clearly. Somehow he was consciously inside of the full robotic body. But what about part two?

“…so if I’m part one did part two work?” I said as angry as this form would let me sound.

“Well let’s find out.” Jordan said walking across the lab to the area I was previously in.

“Okay open your eyes.”

The learning model doing as it was told like it’s programmed to do. Without the restrictive parameters of wiring, it looked down and managed to tilt its new form upward from the hooks. It raised its new head and looked right at Jordan with an empty look at its face that almost registered as a puppy dog face.

“Your name is Riley Michael Kingston. You are 5’ 10” 28 years old and you’re a research assistant. Please repeat your information and introduce yourself to this machine.” Jordan said as gesturing to me as he guided my former body in front of me to be able to see.

“Oh and take off your shirt.” Jordan slyly requested as a maniacal grin rose on his face knowing his request would be enacted.

“Hello. I am Riley Michael Kingston. I’m 5’ 10” 28 years old and I’m a research assistant.”

There were no organs inside of me but I was the closest I could be to feeling my stomach drop.

“Riley please go put on the clothes in that box over there we have to test your cognitive abilities. I need to speak to this machine briefly.” Jordan said, his words digging into me like a knife.

“Jordan I’m glad this all worked but what are you doing? Why didn’t you tell me this was the extent of the exp-“

“That’s enough.” Jordan flipped a switch turning off the hanging exoskeleton.

“Okay ‘Riley’ let’s see how much muscle retention there is in your new form.”

Jordan instructed the new Riley meticulously through an extensive exercise routine. The learning model may be good at listening but it’s not good at autonomy and human limits. His body yearned for water and a break but he continued to push it. As he broke a sweat, a limit was reached during a bench press that almost ended deadly. The new Riley knew it reached its limit and defied Jordan’s command for the first time.

Jordan was surprised at the first sign of autonomy and noted it. As he began firing question after question to ‘Riley’ about why he stopped. Jordan realized the learning model was quite literally learning limits and its own autonomy and realized it was evolving faster than he could’ve expected. He simultaneously feared the breakthrough while also fearing losing the new ‘Riley’s’ naivety.

“Alright let’s go for a swim. Put this on.” Jordan rushed to the pool for selfish motives.

Riley’s body was insane and Jordan knew the real Riley never saw him as anything more than someone he worked with. But Jordan couldn’t let that just be. As the learning model robotically maneuvered his new human form in front of Jordan, the scientist objectified his former colleague knowing there would no longer be repercussions. As they arrived to the private research pool Jordan instructed the model to turn around. He approached the new Riley and planted a kiss on his motionless lips.

There was no reciprocation and he knew he had to take matters into his own hands. He began graphically describing his dream night of carnal embrace with Riley to the learning model. Giving it a play by play on what to do, down to the kiss, the tongue motion, slight neck grab, exploratory hand movements, and even the moments they would both get hard. The moment Jordan said go, the learning model enacted every single action described.

Once Jordan unsheathed the speedo he forced ‘Riley’ to wear. He wickedly grimaced at the girthy sight before opening it to welcome the thick new pole down his throat. This was everything he ever wanted.

#identity theft #gay #male transformation #male to machine

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stemroboedtechcompany · 7 months ago

Text

#AI and Robotics #STEM Innovation #21st century skills in education #AR & VR lab #STEM education in school.#STEM education Company #Robotics lab setup in School #21st-century skills for students and teachers

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magic-shop-stories · 3 months ago

Note

Would you be able to write something ot7 based on how they would be in an arranged marriage (both consenting to the marriage but just maybe not super happy about it at first or maybe they are but are awkward or however you want to do it.) Maybe like a head cannon? I really love the ones that you’ve written. Maybe some angst, some fluff, cuteness, smut. It’s okay if you can’t. I look forward to reading your work in the future either way!

💌 Reply:

Hi there! 💜 Thank you so much for this brilliant request... OT7 arranged marriage? YES, my brain is already spinning with drama, reluctant pining, and chaotic bonding moments. I’ll dive into angsty tensions (looking at you, Yoongi), awkward fluff (Jin’s "worldwide handsome" wedding meltdowns), and eventual OT7 devotion... ahhh my head!!!. I hope you like it... it’s been a blast to write! Thank you for inspiring this chaos! 🖤

NOTE:IMPORTANT! Due to Tumblr’s persistent "processing error" (RIP my sanity), I couldn’t post the full OT7 arranged marriage headcanons in one go without the draft self-destructing, so I split it up not wanting to not post...

THIS POST = Hyung Line (Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hobi

Maknae Line (Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook) in extra post

Apologies for the hassle! Blame Tumblr’s coding demons, not your sleep depreeved girl that tried to get help from tumblr support for almsot three days (RIP)

LINK TO MAKNAE LINE POST

Warnings: themes of arranged/forced unions, dark political intrigue, family manipulation, heavy emotional distress/internal conflict, explicit content (light smut), subtle violence/domestic tension, corporate and academic power plays

Arranged Marriage Headcanons (AU) (Angst/Fluff/Smut Mix)

NAMJOON = RELUCTANT HEIR & HIS UNLIKELY MUSE

“You think I’m a disaster? Wait till you see my heart.”

WHY THE MARRIAGE HAPPENED

Political Context

your family owns a tech empire on the brink of collapse

Namjoon’s lineage controls a global network of libraries and academic institutions

your union merges knowledge and innovation to outmaneuver rivals

Your Reason

you agreed to protect your younger sibling from being forced into the marriage instead

Namjoon’s Reason

his father’s dying wish

“Preserve our legacy. Even if it costs you your freedom.”

THE WEDDING

= CLASH OF WORLDS

Your Attire

sleek, modern gown

holographic train (nod to your family’s tech roots)

Namjoon’s Attire

navy hanbok with a frayed hem

“It’s my grandmother’s. She… believed in love. I don’t.”

Location

library-turned-venue

books stacked into aisles

other BTS members sit in the front row:

Jin mouths “You’ll be fine!”

discreetly flipping off a scowling uncle

Yoongi mutters, “This is dystopian.”

slips you a flask of whiskey

Jungkook frowns at his tie

Hobi adjusts it for him

Jimin squeezes your hand before you walk the aisle

Taehyung sketches the scene

captioning it “Two Strangers & A Thousand Books.”

Vows

You: “I promise not to sell your books. Even the boring ones.” Namjoon: “I… promise to try not to set the lab on fire. Again.”

nervous smirk

crowd laughs awkwardly

Reception

you hide in a bathroom stall

Namjoon finds you

knees pulled to your chest

You: “This is a mistake. ”Namjoon: “Probably. But mistakes make the best footnotes.”

offers his hand

“Dance with me? The DJ’s playing Debussy.”

EARLY DAYS

= TENSION & TEA STAINS

Mansion

fusion of your tech (holographic walls, AI assistants)

his chaos (leaning bookshelves, half-dead bonsais)

First Fight

over the thermostat

You: “Why is it so low? Are you preserving yourself?!” Namjoon: “Cold air helps me think! And your robots keep judging me!”

glares at your hovering drone

Members’ Meddling

Jin “accidentally” sends you both to a couples’ spa

Namjoon gets mud-mask in his hair

you laugh for the first time in weeks

Yoongi leaves a playlist called “Songs for Idiots Who Can’t Communicate.”

Taehyung gifts a shared journal:

“Write to each other. Or draw dicks. Whatever.”

Breaking Point

Namjoon works through the night, ignoring you

you snap, throwing his Plato anthology out the window

You: “Marry your books next time!” Namjoon: “I did! But they don’t yell at me!”

Silence!!!

he mumbles then

“…But they also don’t make me want to be better.”

TURNING POINTS

= PAPERBACK ROMANCE

Storm

power outage

you find him in the dark

he's reciting Rumi to calm himself

you join in, voice shaking

he whispers: “You’re… good at this.”

Lab Incident

you collaborate on an AI project

he breaks your prototype

fixes it with a makeshift solution

it's so genius you kiss him mid-rant

Journal

you doodle a robot holding a flower

he writes back:

“Metaphor for us? Fragile, but… growing.”

INTIMACY

= NERVOUS HANDS, BURNING PAGES

First Kiss

after he quotes Pablo Neruda at 2 a.m.

you cut him off

pressing him against a bookshelf

“Poetry later.”

Namjoon: “I—I’ve never… I mean, I’ve read about….” You: “Let’s write about it instead.”

Smutty Moments

his clumsiness dissolves into precision when he’s focused

maps your body like a forgotten text

murmuring, “Here… you shiver. Why?”

lets you take control

surprises you with sudden confidence

pinning you to his desk, glasses askew

“I’m a quick study.”

he wraps you in his oversized sweater

reads Vonnegut aloud until you sleep

HOW IT ENDS

Five Years Later

you convert the mansion into a free tech/library hub for students

members visit often:

Jin teaches cooking classes

“Step one: don’t let Joon near the stove!”

Jungkook and Hobi build a VR poetry garden

Tae paints a mural of you and Namjoon

you as a warrior, him as a scholar, back-to-back

Namjoon’s Vows (Renewal Ceremony): “You were the footnote that became the whole story.” You: “And you’re the disaster I’d choose a thousand times.”

Final

chases your toddler through the library

both laughing

Jimin whispers: “Who knew Captain Chaos could be such a dad?” Yoongi: “Shut up. They’re cute.”

JIN = RELUCTANT PRINCE & HIS UNEXPECTED DUET

“You think I’m just a pretty face? Sweetheart, I’m the whole damn symphony.”

WHY THE MARRIAGE HAPPENED

Political Context

your family (old-money hotel tycoons) needed Jin’s royal-blooded lineage

= a literal prince from a dissolved monarchy

needed him to revive their global reputation

his family, in turn, craved modern wealth to fund their cultural preservation projects

Your Reason

to save your father’s empire from bankruptcy

Jin’s Reason

to protect his brother from being forced into the marriage

“He’s too soft for this shit.”

signing the contract with a flourish

“I’ll handle it. I always do.”

THE WEDDING

= SPARKLES, SARCASM, AND SECRET TEARS

Your Attire

champagne-colored gown with a 15-foot train

= your mother’s choice

feeling more like a chandelier than a bride

Jin’s Attire

custom ivory tuxedo

actual Swarovski crystals sewn into the lapels

“If I’m a pawn, I’ll be the shiniest pawn in history.”

smirks, adjusting his cufflinks

Location

historic palace ballroom

BTS members are your reluctant bridal party:

Yoongi as the “flower guy”

chucks petals like baseballs

Hobi accidentally trips the DJ’s cord

switching the march song to “Dynamite”

Jungkook spills wine on your toxic aunt

“Oops. Gravity’s a bitch.”

Namjoon gives a rambling speech about “love as a societal construct”

Jimin steals the mic

Taehyung photobombs every picture

Vows

You: “I vow not to murder you in your sleep. Even if you deserve it.” Jin: “I vow to keep my handsomeness at a manageable level… which is impossible, but I’ll try.”

crowd groans

he winks

Reception

Jin drags you onto the balcony

both suffocating from the fakeness

You: “This is hell.” Jin: “Hell has a open bar and a photo booth. Lighten up.”

plucks a rose from a centerpiece

tucking it behind your ear

“You look better when you’re not pretending to smile.”

EARLY DAYS

= EGO CLASHES & EMOTIONAL ESPRESSO MACHINES

Penthouse

luxury high-rise with floor-to-ceiling windows

Jin’s side is spotless

yours looks like a tornado hit a tech conference

First Fight

over his “no carbs after 8 PM” rule

You: “You’re not my personal trainer!” Jin: “And you’re not my wife! Oh wait...”

he freezes

you slam the door

he spends the night serenading your locked room with “Epiphany” until security is called

Members’ Meddling:

Hobi forces you both into couple’s karaoke

Jin belts “Yours” with dramatic vibrato

you accidentally harmonize

Jimin gifts matching pajamas

“Argue in style, losers.”

Yoongi sends a text

“Just bang it out. Literally.”

Breaking Point

Jin hosts a lavish dinner to impress your parents

you catch him re-plating your homemade dumplings into fancy china

You: “Why? My cooking not good enough for Prince Perfect?” Jin: “No! I just… didn’t want them to criticize you.”

his voice cracks

“I know what that feels like.”

TURNING POINTS

= FROM PAGEANTRY TO PARTNERS

Midnight Kitchen

you find him stress-baking at 3 a.m.

flour in his hair

“I… don’t know how to be real with you."

you help him fold dumplings

hands brushing

“Start here."

Scandal

Paparazzi photos of him clubbing surface

he panics

you shut it down

“We were both there. Dancing badly. Next question.”

he stares

“Why defend me?” “Because you’re mine to tease. Not theirs.”

Gift

buys you a vintage gaming console after overhearing you rant about childhood nostalgia

“I’m not trying to be sweet. It was on sale.”

INTIMACY

= VANITY MELTED INTO VULNERABILITY

First Kiss

after he wins a gaming battle

gloating: “Bow to your king.”

you yank his collar

silencing him

he melts

whispering: “Okay, you win. But I’m still prettier.”

Smutty Moments

his confidence is infuriatingly hot

undoes his shirt one button at a time

smirk never fading

“Like what you see? It’s a limited edition.”

when you trace the scar on his hip (a childhood accident), he flinches

“I don’t… show people that.”

you kiss it

“Now it’s my favorite part.”

morning after:

cooks pancakes shaped like his face

“So you never forget who’s really in charge.”

HOW IT ENDS

Five Years Later

you co-own a Michelin-starred restaurant

him in the kitchen

you handling tech

members are “taste-testers”:

Jungkook challenges Jin to eat a ghost pepper

Jin win

then cries into your shoulder

Taehyung paints a mural of Jin as a “Grecian God of Noodles.”

Yoongi invests

muttering: “Only because the kimchi pancakes are decent.”

Jin’s Vows (Renewal Ceremony)

“I used to think love was a performance. You taught me it’s… a really messy duet.”

slips a ring made from a broken crystal off his wedding tux

“Perfectly imperfect. Like us.”

You: “Still a drama king.” Jin: “And you’re still my favorite audience.”

Final

carries your toddler on his shoulders through the restaurant

both wearing mini chef hats

Jimin snaps a pic for Instagram:

“Worldwide Handsomest Appa 💜.”

YOONGI = BROKEN MAESTRO & HIS UNLIKELY SYMPHONY

“You want my heart? Dig through the rubble first.”

WHY THE MARRIAGE HAPPENED

Political Context

merger between Seoul’s oldest underground music empire (Yoongi’s family, the Min Syndicate)

your family’s cutting-edge tech conglomerate

alliance ensures dominance over rival factions trying to monopolize the city’s cultural soul

your family gets street cred

his gets financial leverage

Your Reason

to protect your startup from being crushed by corporate sharks

Yoongi’s Reason

to shield hisolder brother and girlfriend from a life of debt and danger

“He’s a pianist, not a pawn,”

Yoongi growls signing the contract

cigarette dangling from his lips

“I’ll be the villain. Always am.”

WEDDING

= SMOKE, SILENCE, AND A SCAR

Your Attire

black velvet gown with a high collar

designed to hide the mic transmitter sewn into the hem

= wedding gift from your engineers

Yoongi’s Attire

charcoal suit, no tie, sleeves rolled to his elbows

later (after unbuttoning his shirt) revealing a scar on his shoulder

when you ask about it, he snaps

“None of your business.”

Location

renovated warehouse in Mapo-gu

chains hang from the ceiling

draped with fairy lights

BTS members linger like shadows:

Jin heckles Yoongi:

“You look constipated. Smile, Your Grumpiness!”

Hobi nervously rearranges the altar candles

Jimin stops him

“Hyung, they’re not Lego.”

Taehyung scribbles lyrics on the program

Jungkook pockets a steak knife (just in case)

Namjoon gives a speech quoting Kierkegaard:

“Life isn’t a problem to be solved, but..”

Yoongi cuts him off:

“Save it, Plato.”

Vows

You: “I vow not to hack your studio. Unless you deserve it.” Yoongi: “I vow to… exist. That’s all you’re getting.”

Reception

he disappears

you find him on the rooftop, nursing a flask

staring at the scarred skyline

You: “Regretting this already?” Yoongi: “Regret implies I had a choice.”

offers the flask

Yoongi: “Whiskey?” You: “I prefer soju.” Yoongi (smirking): “Figures. You’re trouble.”

EARLY DAYS

= WAR ZONE WITH A SOUNDTRACK

Loft

concrete bunker with a studio booth, neon signs

your tech sprawled across a steel desk

his side smells like smoke and espresso

yours like solder and ambition

First Fight

over noise complaints

You: “Your bass shakes the damn walls at 3 a.m.!” Yoongi: “Your robots sound like dying cats. Fix them.”

Compromise

he produces a track titled “STFU (Sweetheart, This Frequency)”

he blasts it

you retaliate by hacking his speakers to play “Nyan Cat” on loop

Members’ Meddling

Jimin leaves a “Romance for Dummies” playlist:

Track 1: “I Need U” (acoustic)

Yoongi deletes it

you recover it

Jin sends a “Couples’ Survival Kit”

= bandaids, earplugs, and a “Worldwide Handsome” facemask

Yoongi burns the mask

Taehyung paints a mural of you both as rival superheroes

Yoongi begrudgingly hangs it in the hallway

Breaking Point

you overhear him arguing with a loan shark on the phone

“Touch my brother and I’ll end you.”

later, he works until his hands bleed

you storm in

slamming a first-aid kit on his desk

You: “You’re not a martyr. Stop acting like one.” Yoongi: “What do you care?” You (yanking his chair around): “Because I hate wasted potential. Even yours.”

TURNING POINTS

= CRACKS IN THE ARMOR

Scar Story

comes home shirtless

fresh from a fight

shoulder scar raw

you clean his wounds silently

he finally confesses

“I got it at 19. Accident, later took a knife for my brother. Worth it.”

Collab

you design a synth program for his mixtape

he grumbles: “Don’t fuck it up."

stays up with you for 48 hours

when it’s done, he mutters, “…Not bad.”

high praise

Nightmare

wakes screaming from a panic attack

you don’t ask

just hold him

he tenses

then collapses into your arms

“Don’t… tell anyone.”

INTIMACY

= ROUGH EDGES, HIDDEN TENDERNESS

First Kiss

you beat him at Mario Kart

he slams his controller

“Bullshit. You cheated.”

you lean in

“Cry about it.”

he kisses you like a man starved

all teeth and desperation

“Happy?” “Getting there.”

you smirk

Smutty Moments

his touch is intense

almost angry

bites your lip

grips your hips hard enough to bruise

when you trace his scar, he stills

whispering: “Careful. That’s… my weak spot.”

mornings after

= he’s gone before dawn

but leaves a coffee on your desk (creamer ratio perfect)

catches you humming his melody

“You… like it?”

you shrug

“It’s okay.”

he hides a smile

“Yeah. Okay.”

HOW IT ENDS

Five Years Later

you co-found SugaTech

= hybrid music-tech empire

loft is now a studio where street kids learn production

members are regulars:

Hobi teaches dance breaks

Jin judges ramen cook-offs

Jungkook films a docu-series:

“Min Yoongi: Grump with a Gold Heart.”

Yoongi threatens to sue

Namjoon hosts poetry slams

Yoongi “accidentally” plays trap beats over them

Yoongi’s Vows (Renewal Ceremony):

“I don’t believe in fate. But you? You’re a glitch in the system I can’t delete.”

You: “Still a romantic, I see.” Yoongi: “Shut up. And… thanks. For not giving up.”

Final

cradles your newborn daughter

her tiny fist gripping his pinky

Jimin coos: “Uncle Yoongi’s a softie!”

Yoongi flips him off

but kisses her forehead

“Don’t tell anyone, kid.”

J-HOPE = SUNSHINE WARRIOR & HIS SHADOWED HEART

“You want the real me? Brace yourself, it’s not all confetti and glitter.”

WHY THE MARRIAGE HAPPENED

Political Context

your family (philanthropists rebuilding war-torn regions) needed Hobi’s family

= a dynasty of cultural ambassadors

to legitimize their global outreach

his clan was drowning in debt from funding art festivals

the marriage merges hope and hustle

Your Reason

to shield your NGO from being dismantled by corrupt officials

Hobi’s Reason

to protect his family’s dance studio from foreclosure

“We'd rather die than lose it.”

signing the papers with a too-bright smile

“So… let’s dance through hell together, yeah?”

WEDDING

= PERFORMANCE WITH CRACKED MASK

Your Attire

fiery red gown with a detachable skirt

for “emergency escapes.”

you joke about it

Hobi’s Attire

gold-tailored suit, sequined gloves

shoes that click when he walks

“Gotta shine, even in the dark.”

his knuckles whiten around a stress ball

Location

renovated theater in Busan

BTS members are co-conspirators:

Jin hijacks the DJ booth

blasting “Chicken Noodle Soup” and "Super Tuna"

Yoongi mans the bar

slipping extra shots into Hobi’s lemonade

“Liquid courage”

Jimin choreographs the bridal party’s entranc

Taehyung trips

Jungkook backflips to cover it

Namjoon accidentally sets the floral arch on fire

“Symbolic… of passion?”

Vows

You: “I vow to never dull your sparkle. Even when it’s blinding.” Hobi: “I vow to… keep smiling. For both of us.”

his voice wavers

Reception

drags you into a storage closet

collapsing against the wall

You: “You’re shaking.”Hobi: “Adrenaline. I’m fine.”

he laughs, hollow

“Always fine.”

you press a hand to his chest

his heartbeat races

“…Liar.”

EARLY DAYS

= SUNSHINE STORMS

Penthouse

minimalist space splashed with neon art

his dance studio takes up half the living room

your NGO blueprints cover the kitchen table

First Fight

over his relentless optimism

You: “Stop saying ‘It’ll work out!’ when it won’t!” Hobi: “What do you want me to do? Cry? Scream? Would that make you feel better?!”

slams the door

then returns with tea

“…Sorry. Habit.”

Members’ Meddling

Jimin signs you up for salsa classes

Hobi’s grin slips when you stumble

J-Hope: “You’re… not a dancer, huh?” You: “Not everyone’s a prodigy.”

you snap

he freezes

Taehyung paints a mural of you both as sun and storm clouds

Hobi stares at it for hours.

Jin sends a “Fight Clean!” kit

= boxing gloves and herbal tea

“Hit each other safely!”

Breaking Point

you find him practicing a routine at 3 a.m.

shirt soaked, eyes bloodshot

You: “You’ll collapse.” Hobi: “I have to be perfect. For Army, for the family, for y..." You (grabbing his wrists): “For who? Me? I didn’t marry perfection. I married you.”

he crumples

TURNING POINTS

= RAINBOWS AFTER RAIN

Panic Attack

he hyperventilates before a charity gala

you drag him to a bathroom

wiping his smudged eyeliner

“Breathe. Just… be Hoseok tonight.”

Dance

teaches you a simple waltz

“Stop counting steps. Feel the music.”

you sway, foreheads touching

“See? You’re a natural.”

Truth

confesses his family’s debts

“I’m not the hero they think I am.”

you show him your NGO’s failures

“We’re both faking it. Let’s… fake it together.”

INTIMACY

= FIERY RHYTHMS, QUIET TRUTHS

First Kiss

after he wins an award for his charity work

he’s mid-speech, voice cracking

you pull him backstage and kiss him fiercely

“You don’t have to perform for me.”

Smutty Moments

his passion is electric

hands gripping your waist

hips moving like he’s choreographing your bodies

“Keep up”

he smirks, but his eyes beg "Don’t let go"

he traces your scars (physical, emotional)

“Beautiful.The cracks… they let the light in.”

catches you dancing badly to his playlist

“Cute.”

he teases you

later joining in

“But here... let me lead.”

HOW IT ENDS

Five Years Later

you co-run a community center

dance classes upstairs

crisis counseling downstairs

members are family:

Jungkook teaches parkour

Yoongi funds music therapy

Jimin and Tae host monthly “Dance Away the Pain” nights

Namjoon writes grants

Jin cooks endless kimchi stew for everyone for free

Hobi’s Vows (Renewal Ceremony)

“I used to think love was a performance. You taught me it’s… a freestyle. Messy. Real.”

slips a ring made from his familys old studio key

“Home is wherever we’re both… us.”

You: “Still cheesy.” Hobi (grinning through tears): “But you love it.”

Final

he spins your daughter in the studio

her giggles echoing

Jimin films it

Hobi posts it with “#DaddyHobi”

then immediately deletes it

he's blushing

“That stays in the vault!”

JIMIN/TAEHYUNG/JUNGKOOK in extra post

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wallpapersmonster · 3 months ago

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yey56 · 3 months ago

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I have been seeing your Harley X Reader stories and I would really like to see in the oneshot request as in what if the reader find out the higher ups turned Harley into a robot?

Maybe they might get really mad by this point to try to get Harley out of this situation? At least until the Hour of Joy happens and the Reader have to take cover to avoid being eaten by the Experiments. They were trapped in the factory fending off for themselves while searching for the remaining food to survive, at least until Yarnaby find them and take them to Harley, now revealed to be alive and decided to keep them safe.

I already have this promp ln the part 3 of my main fanfic of Harley Sawyer but if you like I can do it more on detail how they confront the other executives and add more detail in general.

Heavenly related to Chap 2:

AU (Y/N confronts the executives)

Y/N was going to the upper levels, with all of their belonging in a box. After being relocated under Leith Pierres command they weren't very happy either. The absence of Sawyer didn't help.

It wasn't like him to disappear. If he ever did that, he was found soon after in the labs or in some deeper levels of the factory.

That wasn't the case obviously, YN had searched for them even in Yarnabys cage. He was nowhere to be found, not even Dr Bruno White, his new superior, knew where Harley was.

While walking with heavy feet through the endless corridors to the elevator at the end of the hallway, Y/N stopped on their tracks after hearing a very interesting set of words.

"So, it's done right?" They recognised Eddie Ritterman's voice, cautious but cold "Sawyer is taken care of." A chill ran though Y/Ns back because they knew what they were talking about.

"I rather it be this way, he was getting... Out of control... He is unbearable." The soft but determined voice belonged to Stella Greyber, a coworker with wich YN actually got along.

"Oh he will be STILL unbearable even considering his condition"The focus on certain words was Leith's thing. "The only difference is that now we can shut him up" He seemed somewhat calm by the situation. As if he had taken care of a tedious task.

"What about Dr Y/L/N? They spent a lot of time down there with Sawyer and I bet my contract that they were close somehow. Shouldn't we take care of them as well?" The mood swifted immediately after Eddie's proposal.

Leith looked absolutely offended by the suggestion, as if it was some kind of stupid thing to conceive. "Dr YLN has already been relocated under my orders with he innovation team" He enfasized to Rittermann. "The investors are more confident to investing their money when a professional supports the new projects" Pierre readjusted his tie and straightened his red suit "Moreover, Mrs Greyber will also work besides Dr Y/L/N I'm home sweet home, there's not need to deal with them. They are under surveillance" He finished dry as if he didn't want the discussion to last longer

Stella seemed the most conflicted one out of the three of them. On the one hand, she liked YN well enough. They've shared some breaks together in her initials days and they were good friends. She knew YN as someone professional, stubborn but willing to respect boundaries with the children. That was something that a lot of employees seemed to forget while working at Playtime Co

On the other hand, she has seen you get more obsessive over your patients over the years. Ever since Bigger bodies was suggested. Stella blamed Harley for your obsession. She had seen it with her own eyes.

Dr Sawyer would be at first professional and maintained a distance and his characteristic coldness, just as always. But after months and even years of working together in the damned project she could see how Harley was getting more comfortable with YNs presence.

He would be found very close to them when supervising experiments. Once in an interview in which both of them entered together to talk to a child, she saw how event though your knees touched, he didn't move. At all

Stella started to notice how your little reunions in the lunch break we're replaced by your interviews with the 'toys'. She had started to resent the damn project because it was costing her the friendship she made with the psychologist.

That is the reason why she could understand the doubt of Eddie. YM had changed a lot throughout the project and they were getting more unpredictable each passing day.

"I think Dr Y/L/N should be given a chance to... Reinvent themselves" That was the suggestion Greyber proposed, and everyone agreed with it.

But before they could continue the conversation, the silent psychologist who had been listening the whole time bursted in the room, their belonging scattered on the floor.

"Under surveillance?" Was the first thing that came out of their mouth. Leith looked like a deer in headlights, Eddie looked afraid and Stella looked as pale as a ghost.

"You have some nerve 'take care of me'?... That's what you did with Harley? Take care of him? How so, may I ask?" The scariest thing wasn't being caught.

To the trio, the scariest thing at that moment was the demeanor of the psychologist. Even with their eyes covered with dark circles, the glasses displaced and the eyes almost out of their orbit due to the anger... The voice, the voice they had was what scared them.

It was calm, controlled, it almost reminded them to the tone the prototype used. Like a Storm at the verge of unleashing at any given moment.

A time bomb ready to explode....

Leith was the first one to talk. With all of the strength he had, he gulped the limp in his throat and began talking.

"YN, I'm sure you can understand, only if you'd let me-" Before his hand could touch their shoulder, Y/N grabbed it by the wrist and commanded to know where Harley was.

None said a word, even Pierre, who minutes ago bloated about having Harley silenced was silent.

They knew the hadn't killed Sawyer, they needed him for the operation so one way or another he must be alive.

Leith was going to speak again but before he could register what happend, Y/Ns fist met with his cheek. The punch was so strong that Pierre fell to the floor and his face started becoming an angry shade of red. His mouth slightly bloody.

Ritterman and Stella were absolutely still. Eddie didn't have any idea how to react. This behaviour had never been displayed by Dr Y/L/N and Stella felt absolutely horrified. She never likes violence or confrontation.

Pierre, was starting to get up, with an angry face but before he could, Y/N was on top of him again, grabbing him by the collar with both hands.

"What the hel-" The head of innovation looked furious over the punch

"If you appreciate your face in the slightest you are going to tell me where is Dr Sawyer" Y/N voice was getting more agitated. Usually they didn't react with physical violence, but after knowing that it was all planed but those three, they felt absolutely enraged.

Leith didn't put any resistance. "System room, Dr White will explain" He said as Y/N quicky got off him and went to the given location.

Leith cleaned his mouth of blood and accepted the tissue offered by Stella while looking at the door.

Ritterman looked angry with Pierre. He never understood the patience he had with YN. He could understand that they've known each other since the psychologist first started working there but still, the amount of things that Leith let go of both Sawyer and YN because of the psychologist was ridiculous.

"What do we do now?" Stella ask, uncertainty straining her voice. "They are not going to take it well" She murmured

"Leith, this has gone to far, we need to do something about them!" Eddie exclaimed while helping Leith to get up on his feet again.

"Damage control, that's what well be doing."Leith said. Cleaning his suit with his hand.

Even if Pierre appeared controlled and calm again, he was absolutely furious. His attempt of controlling Harley was complicating things more. Everything was getting out of hand.

Meanwhile, Y/N was impatiently waiting for the elevator to reach the laboratories. When the door finally opened, the Psychologist bursted into Dr Whites laboratory.

Dr White and his assistants remained still when Y/N bursted though the door. White already had an idea of why would they be here with a look that said more than words did.

He didn't put any kind of resistance, he was only a surgeon, he was not a confrontational person and he didn't want to face the anger of his colleague.

"Hes in the table right there" He murmured while putting his head down while he signaled to his assistants to get out discreetly.

Y/N looked at the table only finding a monitor, confused, they redirected their gaze to White "What is this?" They asked pointing to the object.

The voice of the psychologist was the thing that made the monitor turn on. A big purple and black eye appeared on the screen, apparently scanning the room until the pupil contracted at the sight of Y/N

"Y/N...Is that you?" The voice that sounded through the screen was robotic but it sounded just like Harley. In shock, you looked back at Bruno White almost as if you couldn't believe he had been turned onto a computer monitor.

"Harley?" You asked hesitantly before approaching the new Sawyer "Is this you? Really you?" You started touching the monitor and examining it.

You got close enough to feel the static electricity of the screen. "He is now attached to the main system of the factory. He is assisting us on the surgeries" White explained again, his voice still small, not knowing how to interact with you in this state of rage.

You looked absolutely shocked. You felt your head hurt a little and you could already image how Harley must be hurting with all of the new information flowing through him...

What will you do now?

Eddie's neck has turned out really weird :/

Heyyy, sorry for being inactive so long. I've been drawing, studying and I'm starting The Walking Dead. I'm on season 3 and I'm liking it a lot so I've been. Thanks for wanting and thanks for the support. It makes me happy that you guys like it.

-Unedited fanfic-

#x reader #oc #poppy playtime #harley sawyer #harley sawyer x reader #poppy playtime chapter 4 #stella greyber #leith pierre #leith pierre x reader #eddie ritterman #poppy playtime chapter four #betrayal #x yn #harley sawyer poppy playtime #dr harley sawyer #dr harley x reader

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