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solxamber · 10 months ago

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Trash Novel Chronicles: I'd Rather Date the Male Lead's Dad - Lilia Vanrouge x reader

When you end up in your best friend's favourite but absurd novel about breaking a fae prince's curse, you didn't expect to get attached to his little family too. Even more unexpected? You fell for the male lead's dad, but hey it looks like he likes you too.

Series Masterlist

You love your best friend. You really, really do. But sometimes—sometimes—the things they drag you into make you question your life choices. This time? It’s a novel. A bad one.

The plot is borderline unreadable, but somehow, it’s now your problem. Because of course it is.

“So, listen,” your friend had said, waving the book around like it was some kind of literary masterpiece. “Malleus Draconia, the fae prince, is cursed—chained up in this forest. The curse can only be broken by someone who isn’t attracted to him. But here’s the kicker: he’s so hot that no one can break the curse. For ten years.”

“Uh-huh.” You’d nodded along, already feeling your brain cells start to wave white flags of surrender. But your friend continued.

“The main character stumbles upon him after years of drama and frees him because they’re the only one not drooling over him. Then they fall in love, blah, blah, blah.”

At this point, you were barely listening. But then they dropped the bomb. Your eyes were shutting and you felt the sweet embrace of sleep call to you.

“Also, there’s this subplot where a magical plague of squirrels overruns the kingdom, the Saint betrays everyone by secretly being a double agent for some shadowy organization, and—get this—there’s a surprise paternity reveal where the devil is the father of the Saint who turns out to be the evil villain controlling everything.”

Your face had hit the pillow as your soul left your body.

And somehow, the next thing you remember is waking up dead. Or, more specifically, reincarnated. In the body of the heroine. In that story.

You can't believe the story was so terrible that it killed you.

The first thing you notice when you wake up is that the room is way too fancy for your tastes. The bed is massive, the sheets feel like they cost more than your entire existence, and the walls are adorned with tacky portraits of people who are probably supposed to be important.

“Oh, no,” you groan, rubbing your eyes. “This can’t be happening.”

But it is. You’re in the novel. The very one your friend had been yammering about. And not only are you in it, but you’ve woken up a full year before the plot is supposed to kick off. A year of waiting for terrible drama, an ex-fiancé who can’t take a hint, and a poor fae prince you’re supposed to rescue.

But you? Yeah, you’re not that patient.

“No way am I waiting a whole year for some garbage plot to unfold,” you mutter, throwing the covers off. “I’m just going to free Malleus now, take my reward, and live a quiet, drama-free life by the beach.”

With that plan firmly in mind, you march out the door.

It takes a bit of wandering through some overly cursed forest, but you eventually find Malleus’s “prison.” And honestly? It’s not nearly as dramatic as you expected.

There he is, sitting in the middle of a clearing, chained up in some kind of spooky-but-also-weirdly-ornate setup. He looks just as the novel described: tall, dark-haired, horns giving him an air of mystery and power. But what you weren’t prepared for? The way his eyes widen slightly in surprise when he sees you.

“I wasn’t expecting… company,” Malleus says, his voice soft, almost tentative.

You pause for a second. He looks intimidating, sure, but there’s something oddly… sweet about him. Like a guy who’d get excited over a party invite and then be too shy to actually show up.

“Yeah, I’m just here to get this whole ‘curse-breaking’ thing out of the way,” you say casually, walking up to the chains. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

Malleus blinks, looking a bit confused. “You… are not attracted to me?”

You snort. “Nah, not really. You’re nice to look at, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve got my own problems. Let’s just get you free so I can collect my reward and move on.”

He still looks mildly surprised but nods. “Very well.”

With a shrug, you reach out and touch the chains. There’s a brief flicker of light, and they dissolve. Just like that.

Malleus looks down at his freed wrists, clearly shocked. “It… it worked.”

“Yeah, wild, right?” you say, brushing off your hands. “So, about that reward…”

Before you can finish, Malleus stands and, in a tone so polite it makes you feel guilty, says, “You have freed me. Please, allow me to invite you to stay at my castle. As a guest.”

You blink at him. “Uh, no thanks. I’m good.”

Malleus’s expression falters for a moment, and you swear he looks a little sad. “But… I would like to repay you for your kindness.”

He’s giving you this look, all wide-eyed and hopeful, and you realize—he just wants to hang out.

Oh no.

“Ugh, fine,” you groan. “I’ll stick around for a bit.”

The way his face lights up is honestly too pure for someone who was supposed to be all intimidating and all-powerful.

When you arrive at Malleus’s castle, things get interesting real fast. You’re greeted by his entourage—Sebek, who looks like he’s one insult away from going Super Saiyan; Silver, who’s napping on his feet; and Lilia, who seems like the embodiment of chaos.

Sebek is the first to speak, scowling at you with righteous fury. “How DARE you approach Lord Malleus with such insolence!”

You roll your eyes. “I just freed him. You’re welcome.”

Sebek looks like he’s about to explode, but Lilia steps forward, his sharp grin making you instantly suspicious. “Oh? You broke the curse? Without being… swayed by our dear Malleus’s charms?”

“Yup,” you say, popping the ‘p.’ “Didn’t even break a sweat.”

Lilia’s eyes gleam with amusement. “Fascinating. You must have quite the willpower. Or perhaps…” He looks you up and down, clearly intrigued. “You simply have different tastes?”

You blink. Then, without thinking, you point at him. “Actually, yeah. You’re hot.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence, during which Sebek looks like he’s been hit with a brick, and Lilia lets out a delighted laugh.

“Oh, you are a delight,” Lilia says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Perhaps you should stay longer.”

“You think I’m joking, but I’m not,” you deadpan, earning a grin from Lilia.

Silver, meanwhile, is still half-asleep and completely unfazed by your chaos. “Good job on freeing Malleus,” he mutters, yawning.

Malleus, who has been silent this whole time, finally speaks up. “You… do not find me attractive?”

You turn to him and sigh. “Look, it’s not that you’re not attractive. You’re, like… objectively pretty. But I don’t really go for the whole cursed prince thing.”

Malleus seems to process this slowly, his brows furrowing slightly. “I see…”

“But don’t worry,” you add quickly, feeling a bit bad for the guy. “You’re sweet. It’s a compliment, really.”

Malleus looks a little less confused and a bit more happy. “Sweet? No one has ever called me that before.”

You snort. “Well, I’m calling it now. And hey, you’ve got your freedom, right? Now you can get invited to all those parties you wanted.”

At this, Malleus’s eyes widen slightly, and you realize—oh no, he’s the type who really just wants to be invited to stuff.

“Oh,” you mutter under your breath, “you’re like a giant puppy, aren’t you?”

Malleus tilts his head, clearly confused, but before he can ask, Lilia leans in with a knowing grin. “I think you’ll fit in just fine around here.”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “This is gonna be a long stay, isn’t it?”

Lilia’s smile widens. “Oh, most definitely.”

Later, you’re sitting around the dining hall with the group when Lilia casually brings up the dreaded plot points.

“So, when do you think the magical plague of squirrels will hit?” he asks, almost too casually.

You nearly choke on your drink. “The what now?”

“Oh, didn’t you know?” Lilia smirks. “There’s a prophecy. The squirrels will overrun the kingdom unless someone stops them.”

You blink. “This is real? I thought that part was a fever dream.”

Malleus nods seriously. “The squirrels are quite the threat.”

You slam your head on the table. “I’m trapped in a nightmare.”

Silver, half-asleep as always, just yawns. “I’ll take care of them. Probably.”

And that’s when you realize: maybe you should have let the curse be.

You didn’t mean for it to happen, but you and Malleus… well, you’ve become friends. It started small, mostly casual conversations where he’d hover around, awkward but eager, just happy to be included. There was this one time you invited him to tea, and the poor guy looked like he was about to cry from happiness. Now? You’re taking your frienship to the next level.

“Hey,” you say, strolling into the throne room where Malleus is doing the farthest thing from brooding. He’s just kind of standing there, staring out the window like he’s daydreaming about a really nice picnic. “Want to go to the market with me?”

The look on his face is priceless. His eyes widen like you’ve just handed him a golden ticket to the best party of the year. “You… want me to accompany you?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, as if this isn’t the biggest deal of his life. “I need to pick up some stuff, and I figured it’d be more fun with a friend. Plus, y’know, maybe someone will actually give me a discount if you’re there.”

Malleus looks like you just offered him the world “I would be honored.”

And that’s how you, Malleus, and the rest of his chaotic entourage—because of course they followed—ended up at the bustling market.

Sebek? Less than thrilled. In fact, you think he might actually be foaming at the mouth. “I cannot believe you are fraternizing with Lord Malleus so casually! Do you not understand the honor you’ve been given?!”

“Sebek,” you sigh, waving a hand dismissively, “we’ve been over this. I’m his friend. Friends do normal stuff together. You know, like going to the market.”

Sebek glares at you like you’ve just insulted his entire bloodline. “Lord Malleus does not engage in such trivialities!”

“Uh,” you glance over at Malleus, who is currently inspecting a row of intricately carved fruit. “He’s literally doing it right now, Sebek.”

Malleus turns to you, holding up a fruit shaped like a tiny dragon. “Would you like to try one? It is said to bring good fortune.”

You grin at him. “If you’re offering, I’m down.”

Sebek looks like he’s about to explode from sheer indignation.

“You dare—!”

“Sebek,” Malleus cuts in, his voice as gentle as ever. “I am quite enjoying myself. There’s no need to worry.”

You grin at the sight. “You’re really into this, huh?”

Malleus glances at you, a little bashful but still smiling. “I have never been invited to something like this before. It is… a new experience.”

Oh god, he’s so sweet. You feel like you’re corrupting a baby deer by dragging him into the real world, but it’s so worth it.

Lilia, however, is having the time of his life. He leans over, grinning like the mischievous little gremlin he is, and whispers in your ear, “I must say, you’ve got quite the charm. Lord Malleus rarely accepts invitations. You might be more important to him than you think.”

You snort. “Yeah, well, maybe he just really likes fruit.”

Lilia laughs, a sound that’s equal parts endearing and dangerous. “Or maybe he enjoys your company, hm?”

“Careful,” you say, flashing a grin. “Keep sweet-talking me like that, and I might start flirting back.”

Lilia’s eyes gleam with amusement. “Oh? I think I’d enjoy that.”

Oh god, he’s not backing down. Now you’re in the deep end. “Listen, if you keep going, I’m gonna have to ask if you’ve got plans for dinner.”

“I’m free this evening,” Lilia replies smoothly. “Shall I prepare a feast? Or perhaps we could have something more… intimate?”

You blink at him, unable to tell if he’s messing with you or if this is just how he operates. Either way, you’re so down to find out.

Before you can respond, Sebek cuts in, voice raised to what can only be described as ‘angry airhorn.’ “You will not speak so casually to Master Lilia!”

“Oh, Sebek, relax,” you say, patting him on the shoulder, which is a mistake because it feels like patting a brick wall. “He likes it.”

Lilia winks at you, thoroughly enjoying the chaos. “Indeed, I do.”

You smirk, shooting Lilia a playful look. “See? The man’s practically begging for attention.”

Malleus, meanwhile, has been watching this entire exchange with mild confusion. “Is this what humans call… flirting?”

You give him an exaggerated nod. “Yup. It’s a sacred tradition. Very serious stuff.”

“I see,” Malleus muses, looking between you and Lilia. “Perhaps I should try it as well?”

“Oh, please don’t,” Sebek groans, looking absolutely horrified at the idea of Malleus flirting. “Lord Malleus, you are above such trivial pursuits!”

Lilia is practically cackling at this point. “Now, now, Sebek. It wouldn’t hurt to let Malleus explore new experiences.”

You grin and elbow Malleus lightly. “Don’t listen to Sebek. You can totally flirt if you want.”

Malleus, sweet as he is, looks completely serious when he asks, “What would I say? I do not wish to offend.”

You pause, trying very hard not to laugh. “Okay, how about this? Try complimenting someone. Like…” You glance around and point at a vendor selling flowers. “Tell them they have lovely flowers.”

Malleus nods, taking this very seriously, and walks over to the vendor. You, Lilia, Sebek, and Silver (who’s been napping the whole time) watch as Malleus, ever the gentleman, says to the vendor, “Your flowers… are as radiant as the moonlight.”

The vendor looks flustered, blushing furiously. “Oh! Thank you, My Lord!”

You can’t help but laugh. “See? You’re a natural.”

Malleus returns to your side, looking pleased with himself. “I believe that went well.”

“Yeah, now you just have to work on *accepting* compliments,” you say with a wink, and Malleus tilts his head slightly in confusion.

“Accepting?”

“Yeah,” you grin, “like, if I were to tell you you’re the sweetest giant fae-dragon puppy I’ve ever met, you’d say…?”

Malleus looks genuinely flustered, his cheeks tinting the faintest shade of pink. “I… would say… thank you?”

“Good enough,” you laugh, nudging him playfully. “We’ll work on it.”

Sebek is muttering to himself about ‘disrespect’ and ‘sacrilege,’ but Malleus looks… happy. Like, really happy. He’s still a little awkward, sure, but you can tell he’s having a good time. Probably more fun than he’s had in years.

Lilia, meanwhile, is back at your side, leaning in close with that smirk of his. “You’re quite the influence, you know.”

“Yeah, well,” you grin, “someone’s gotta drag him into the real world.”

“Perhaps you’ll drag me into something as well?” Lilia purrs, his voice low and teasing.

You blink at him. “Keep talking, and I might actually propose to you.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Lilia says, eyes glinting with mischief. “Perhaps later tonight?”

“Is that an invitation?” you quip, raising an eyebrow.

Sebek practically has steam coming out of his ears. “Master Lilia!”

But Lilia just laughs, utterly unfazed. “Oh, Sebek. You really must learn to loosen up.”

Silver yawns loudly, cutting through Sebek’s rant like a chainsaw through butter. “Can we get food now?”

You snort. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Malleus, ever the polite host, nods eagerly. “Yes, let us dine together. A family outing is not complete without a meal.”

You pause, blinking. Family? Did he just call this a family outing?

Lilia catches your expression and chuckles. “Oh dear, it seems Malleus has grown quite fond of you.”

You shoot him a playful glare. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“Not at all,” Lilia says, smiling knowingly. “In fact, I believe it’s quite the opposite.”

Before you can respond, Malleus steps up, still radiating pure joy. “Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner tonight? I would very much enjoy your company.”

Sebek looks like he’s about to self-destruct from sheer disbelief, but you? You can’t help but grin. “Sure, why not? But if I catch you stealing my dessert, it’s game over.”

Malleus chuckles, his awkwardness fading just a bit. “I shall do my best to restrain myself.”

Lilia leans over, voice low and teasing again. “Perhaps you’ll save dessert for me, hm?”

You snort. “Don’t push your luck, old man.”

“Ah, but I’m a fae. Luck is my specialty.”

You shake your head, grinning as you walk alongside Malleus, who’s positively glowing with happiness. Yeah, this is one weird, dysfunctional family, but maybe you like it that way.

It’s quiet tonight, the kind of quiet that settles deep in your bones, making you feel both peaceful and unbearably restless. You find yourself standing on a balcony, overlooking the courtyard bathed in moonlight. The cool breeze whispers through the trees, the scent of night-blooming flowers drifting lazily through the air.

Lilia stands beside you, leaning against the stone railing, his usual playful demeanor absent. In its place is a rare solemnity, something you’ve only seen glimpses of before. You glance at him, noting the way the moonlight catches in his hair, casting soft shadows across his face. It feels... strange, seeing him like this. So serious, so quiet.

After a long silence, he speaks, his voice soft but weighted with emotion. “I was terrified, you know. Of losing him.”

You don’t need to ask who he’s talking about. Malleus. The curse that had wrapped around him for so long, a dark cloud that threatened to take him away. You had been the unexpected catalyst for breaking it, and while you hadn’t fully understood the gravity of it at the time, you’re beginning to now.

Lilia continues, his gaze fixed on the stars above. “I’ve lived a long time. I’ve seen many things, lost many people... but the thought of losing him...” He trails off, his voice catching in a way that makes your heart ache. “It would have broken me.”

You swallow, unsure of what to say. What can you say to something like that? You’re just... you. You never asked to be involved in any of this, never imagined that you’d become such an important part of these people’s lives. But here you are.

“I didn’t do anything special,” you finally manage, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I was just... there.”

Lilia turns to look at you, and there’s something deep in his eyes—something raw and real that takes your breath away. “Sometimes just being there is enough,” he says quietly. “You saved him. And in doing so, you saved me too.”

You shift uncomfortably, not because of his words, but because of the way they tug at something deep inside of you. A part of you that you’ve been trying to keep buried for as long as you’ve been in this strange, unfamiliar world.

You’re silent for a long time, your gaze fixed on the moonlit sky. The memories of your old life swirl in your mind—your family, your best friend, all the people you’ve left behind. You haven’t spoken about it to anyone here, not in detail. It feels too dangerous, too vulnerable. But standing here, under the moonlight with Lilia, you feel like maybe... just maybe... you can share a piece of it.

“I miss them,” you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “My family. My best friend. I miss... home.”

Lilia doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his presence beside you, warm and steady. He doesn’t press for details, doesn’t ask questions you’re not ready to answer. He just listens, and somehow, that’s enough.

You take a deep breath, the cool night air filling your lungs. “It’s hard,” you continue, your voice shaking slightly. “Being here. Being away from them. Sometimes it feels like... like I’m losing pieces of myself. Like I’m forgetting what it felt like to be... whole.”

Lilia’s hand gently rests on your shoulder, a comforting weight that grounds you. “You haven’t lost yourself,” he says quietly. “Not even a little.”

You close your eyes, letting his words wash over you. You don’t know if he’s right, but in this moment, you want to believe him. You want to believe that despite everything, despite the distance and the pain and the uncertainty, you’re still... you.

For a long time, the two of you stand in silence, the only sounds the soft rustling of the trees and the distant chirping of crickets. The moon hangs heavy in the sky, casting everything in a silvery glow. There’s a quiet understanding between you and Lilia, a shared pain that neither of you needs to fully explain.

Eventually, Lilia speaks again, his voice so soft it almost blends with the wind. “The world can be a cruel place,” he murmurs. “But it can also be kind. And in moments like this... it feels just a little more bearable, doesn’t it?”

You nod, your throat tight with unshed tears. “Yeah,” you whisper. “It does.”

The night stretches on, and though neither of you say anything more, there’s a comfort in the silence. A bond formed in the quiet acknowledgment of each other’s pain. And for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re not quite so alone.

Maybe, just maybe, you’ll be okay.

You’re not entirely sure how you ended up here, but somehow, you’re on a date with Lilia. Yes, that Lilia—lord of chaos, culinary adventurer, and general source of havoc.

The setting is picturesque enough: a meadow at sunset, complete with wildflowers and a gentle breeze. At least, it would be picturesque if not for the feast Lilia has prepared, which has a worrying amount of color, movement, and mystery.

“Surprise is the key to a romantic evening,” Lilia declares as he gestures proudly over the assortment of dishes.

You take a moment to assess the display. There’s a vibrantly colored stew that seems to be emitting steam with a life of its own. A platter of vegetables is twitching as if they’re reconsidering their life choices. And there’s a pie—definitely a pie—with something that looks suspiciously like an eyeball poking out from under the crust.

Lilia smiles at you, eyes glinting. “Would you like to try the stew first, my dear? It’s my own special concoction.”

You stare at it, then at him. “How many people have survived eating this?”

Lilia leans in, eyes full of mischief. “Define survived.”

You grin. “Only one way to find out, right?” Before he can respond, you reach for the bowl and take a large spoonful of the stew. Lilia’s eyebrows rise, clearly impressed by your boldness.

It tastes... unusual. Like someone mixed spicy peppers, sweet berries, and some kind of very sharp herb. You take another bite, considering.

Lilia watches you, waiting for a reaction. “Well?” he asks, a hopeful glint in his eye.

You swallow, then nod thoughtfully. “It’s... actually good. Really good, in fact.”

Lilia blinks, his expression shifting from mischief to genuine surprise. “Really?”

You nod again, going in for a third bite, savoring the strange combination of flavors. “Yeah! I mean, it’s different, but in a good way. The spice, the sweetness... it kind of works.”

Lilia’s face lights up, his delight palpable. “You truly mean it? My culinary prowess is usually met with... trepidation.”

“Trepidation might be an understatement,” you say with a laugh. “But honestly? I think people don’t give you enough credit.”

From somewhere nearby, a strangled gasp echoes across the meadow.

“Master Lilia!” Sebek’s voice rings out, sounding more horrified than ever. You glance in the direction of the bushes where, sure enough, they’re rustling. Apparently, Sebek has taken it upon himself to supervise this date from afar.

Lilia chuckles, clearly enjoying Sebek's reaction as much as yours. “Oh, my dear Sebek. One day, you shall learn that adventure begins in the kitchen.”

You take a sip of the iridescent liquid before you—a drink that looks more like a potion than anything else. It’s sparkling, and it has the distinct taste of... glittery fruit juice? You’re not sure, but it’s oddly refreshing.

Lilia eyes you, his smile turning softer, more genuine. “I must say, you are full of surprises. Most would have fainted by now.”

“Hey, I can handle a little excitement,” you say, reaching for one of the twitching vegetables.

Lilia watches in awe as you pop it into your mouth and chew. “And?” he asks, almost breathless.

You blink. “Crunchy. Kind of earthy. I like it.”

Lilia’s smile widens, his eyes twinkling with delight. “Oh, how wonderful! My dear, you truly are one of a kind.”

Sebek’s dismayed groan echoes once again, and you laugh, glancing toward the bushes. “I think we’re breaking poor Sebek.”

“Well, that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?” Lilia replies, leaning closer to you. “And speaking of fun, I have something special for you.” He produces a bright blue flower, presenting it to you with a flourish.

You take it, giving it a cautious sniff. It smells like fresh-baked cookies, and you look at Lilia, raising an eyebrow. “A flower that smells like dessert? Now you’re really spoiling me.”

Lilia’s eyes soften, his voice lowering. “Only the best for someone who appreciates my unique touch.”

Before you can reply, there’s another voice—this one distinctly sleepy. “Father, what... what’s going on here?” Silver approaches, looking like he just woke up from a nap. He takes one look at the scene—the half-eaten dishes, the flower in your hand, and Lilia’s delighted expression—and sighs. “Are you actually eating this... willingly?”

You nod, grinning. “Turns out Lilia’s cooking isn’t so bad. It’s actually kind of great.”

Silver looks at you, then at Lilia, then back at you. He blinks, his brain clearly trying to process this information. “Father, are you using magic to manipulate their taste buds?”

Lilia puts a hand over his heart, looking offended. “Silver, how could you suggest such a thing? I assure you, our dear friend here is enjoying my cooking purely of their own volition.”

Silver sighs again, rubbing his temples. “I think I need another nap.”

Lilia laughs, turning his attention back to you, his eyes filled with affection. “You truly are something special, my dear. Few have ever dared, let alone enjoyed, my creations.”

You smile, giving his hand a squeeze. “Well, I guess I’m just full of surprises.”

Lilia leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Would it be too much to say I find you... irresistible?”

You chuckle, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Don’t push your luck, old man.”

Lilia smirks, his gaze full of warmth. “Ah, but pushing my luck is what I do best. Perhaps next time, I’ll cook an even more adventurous meal for us.”

You pretend to consider it, tapping your chin. “Define adventurous.”

Lilia’s eyes glint mischievously. “How about roasted phoenix feathers?”

“Phoenix feathers?” you echo, shaking your head with a laugh. “You know what? I think I like you just the way you are—absurd cooking experiments and all.”

Lilia’s expression softens, his smile turning tender. “I’m glad to hear it.”

With that, the two of you rise, arm in arm, leaving behind the bizarre remains of the meal. Somewhere in the bushes, Sebek is probably fuming, and Silver has most likely already fallen asleep again.

But as you glance at Lilia, whose eyes are still filled with excitement and warmth, you think that maybe absurd is just what you need.

You love this little family, but you had to gain equal footing with Sebek before you got attached any further. So you did what you thought would work the best— Challenge him in something he enjoys.

You and Sebek had been circling the field for a while now, your horses galloping side by side as you both tried to outpace each other. The competitive tension was thick in the air, though not hostile—it was more of an unspoken game to see who would crack first.

“So, you’re telling me you’ve been riding horses for *years*?” Sebek shouts over the wind, his eyes sharp with determination.

“Yup,” you reply, grinning as your horse picks up speed. “Equestrian club, since I was a kid. Surprised?”

Sebek huffs, his posture straight and rigid as always, but you can tell he’s impressed. “It’s… commendable. For a human, you’ve got some skill.”

“Some skill?” you tease, glancing over at him with a mischievous smile. “Is that all I get? Come on, Sebek, I thought you were competitive.”

He narrows his eyes at you, spurring his horse faster to pull ahead. “I am competitive! You’ll find I do not lose so easily.”

You laugh, nudging your horse to keep up. There’s a thrill in it—pushing each other, but not in a mean way. Sebek’s passion for horse riding matches your own, and it’s fun to finally find common ground with him. Plus, you’re enjoying the challenge.

The field blurs by as you both race toward the far fence, neither of you backing down. As you approach the finish line (or rather, the arbitrary spot you both decided was the end), you both cross it at nearly the same time, pulling your horses to a halt, panting slightly.

Sebek is the first to speak, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. “Hmph. You’re not bad.”

“Not bad? I’d say I’m pretty good,” you shoot back, grinning ear to ear.

Sebek scoffs, but there’s a lightness in his tone that wasn’t there before. “You’re still a human, but… I’ll admit, you ride with some honor.”

“Wow, high praise,” you tease, but you soften your smile. “Thanks, Sebek. You’re not half-bad yourself.”

For a split second, you think you catch the ghost of a smile on his face, but it quickly disappears as he straightens in his saddle. “Of course. Riding is in my blood.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, obviously. I bet you were born in the saddle.”

“Perhaps I was,” Sebek says, completely serious. You stifle a laugh, realizing he probably believes that.

But before you can retort, Lilia rides up, his usual mischievous grin firmly in place. “Ah, what’s this? A friendly competition between two of my favorite people?”

“Master Lilia,” Sebek says, immediately shifting into soldier mode. “We were just—”

“Competing, yes, I can see that.” Lilia’s grin widens as he glances between the two of you. “I must say, the sight of you both racing like that was… quite exhilarating.”

You smirk, not missing a beat. “What, did we impress you?”

Lilia leans closer, voice dropping into a playful tone. “Oh, darling, I’ve been impressed by you for quite some time now.”

Sebek looks like he’s about to faint from sheer mortification. “MASTER LILIA! HUMAN!”

You laugh, waving Lilia off. “Careful, Sebek, you’re gonna scare your horse.”

But surprisingly, Sebek doesn’t snap back. Instead, he looks at you, something softer in his expression. “I admit… you’ve shown me something today. Perhaps you’re not just a reckless human after all.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Wow, Sebek. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re starting to like me.”

Sebek grumbles, looking away. “Do not mistake my words. I merely acknowledge your competence. Nothing more.”

“Sure, sure,” you reply, still grinning. “But hey, anytime you wanna ride again, I’m game.”

Sebek glances back at you, his usual harshness softened just a bit. “Perhaps… I will take you up on that.”

Lilia chuckles, clearly pleased with the budding camaraderie. “Ah, it warms my heart to see you two bonding. Who knows? Maybe you’ll become the best of friends.”

You wink at Lilia. “Well, if Sebek keeps up, maybe I’ll make him my official riding partner.”

Sebek, for once, doesn’t argue. Instead, he gives a small, determined nod. “We shall see, human. We shall see.”

As you ride back toward the stables, you can’t help but smile. You’ve earned a bit of respect from Sebek, and who knows? Maybe you’ll turn this into a full-fledged rivalry—one with a bit more fun and a lot less shouting.

Lilia, of course, flirts all the way back, making sure to keep the mood light and teasing, much to Sebek’s increasing exasperation. But even he can't deny that today was fun

The day should've been as normal as you could have these days—your stomach had other plans. There’s this nagging craving in the back of your mind for ramen, but of course, you’re stuck in a medieval isekai world where even the concept of instant noodles would make heads explode.

You groan, pacing back and forth in your room. "Ramen, ramen, ramen..." You’re practically chanting it like a spell. Finally, you snap your fingers. "Alright! Let’s get some ramen going!"

With all the determination of a contestant in a cooking show, you head to the market, a list of makeshift ingredients mentally prepared. You have no clue how you’re going to explain seaweed or soy sauce to the vendors, but hey, you’ve gotten this far in life on sheer audacity.

Except, ten minutes later, you find yourself hopelessly lost. You had been walking with confidence, chest out, head high, until you somehow managed to wander into a part of town that definitely wasn’t on your mental map. Instead of bustling vendors and cheerful shoppers, you’re now looking at a spooky, abandoned-looking area, complete with dense fog and suspiciously creaky trees.

“This... This isn’t the market,” you mutter, pausing in front of a seriously ominous cottage. If there were ever a sign that said "DO NOT ENTER" in flashing neon, this would be it. And yet, for reasons unknown even to yourself, you approach.

Before you can bolt in the opposite direction, the door swings open with the most dramatic creak you’ve ever heard. A woman, dressed in black robes, stands in the doorway with a gaze that could curdle milk. Her aura practically screams witch, and not the cool kind either—the villainous, melodramatic kind.

“Well, well, well,” she sneers, stepping out with all the grace of a Broadway villain, “look who wandered into my lair.”

“Uh, yeah...” You trail off, scratching the back of your head. “So… this isn’t the market?”

The witch gives you a look so condescending it could melt iron. “No,” she hisses, “it most certainly is not. You’ve trespassed on my domain, little fool!”

“Right, so sorry about that,” you say, trying to backpedal. “I’m just trying to make some ramen, and I—wait, hold on, who are you exactly?”

Her eyes flash with annoyance. “You don’t know who I am?”

You blink at her. “Is this the part where you tell me, like in those cartoons? ‘Cause I’m getting major ‘I’m about to monologue’ vibes right now.”

The witch’s face twitches, clearly not used to people interrupting her villain speech. “I,” she says, pausing for dramatic effect, “am the witch who cursed Malleus Draconia!”

Oh, that witch. You’ve heard some stories about her, mostly from half-paying attention when your friend geeked out over the original plot. But now that you’re face-to-face with her... this is not how you pictured it. You tilt your head.

“So, wait,” you begin, trying to suppress a snicker, “you’re the one who came up with that whole 15-year curse plan? And your big finale was… what? Swooping in at the last second to save him and then expecting him to marry you?”

Her eyes narrow. “That was the plan.”

You stare at her for a moment, the absurdity sinking in. “...That’s ridiculous.”

“How dare you mock me?!” she shrieks, her voice reaching a pitch that probably scared some birds out of nearby trees. She raises her hand, dark magic swirling between her fingers, and you swear you can hear thunder crack in the distance.

“Okay, hang on,” you say, taking a cautious step back. “Let’s not get all zappy here. I’m just saying that’s a lot of effort for a plan that has, like, a one percent success rate.”

“Silence!” She’s fuming now, throwing her hand forward to launch the magic at you—and you brace yourself for the worst. You’ve seen this in movies before. This is the part where you get turned into a frog or something equally terrible.

Except… nothing happens.

The magic fizzles out midair like a dud firecracker, leaving a puff of smoke and an awkward silence in its wake. You blink. She blinks. You both stare at the spot where the magic should have been.

“Uh…” you begin, rubbing the back of your neck. “Was that supposed to do something?”

The witch looks at her hand, then at you, then back at her hand again like she’s having a serious identity crisis. “What...?”

“I mean, points for the drama, but I’m still standing here,” you say, waving your hand in front of your face as if checking for damage. “And I don’t think I’m a toad.”

She tries again, gathering more magic in her hands and launching it at you with renewed fury. But once again, nothing. The magic stops short, fizzling out like it’s hitting an invisible barrier around you. Now she’s just staring at you, dumbfounded.

You, on the other hand, are absolutely flabbergasted. “Okay, this is getting weird.”

That’s when Lilia appears—literally, out of nowhere. He casually steps out from behind a tree like this is all a normal Monday for him. “Ah, I thought I sensed some familiar mischief afoot,” he says, his voice cheerful, though his eyes glint with something far more dangerous as they lock onto the witch.

The witch recoils, visibly shaken. “Lilia Vanrouge,” she hisses, sounding more like a disgruntled cat than a fearsome sorceress.

“In the flesh,” he says with a light bow, his grin all sharp teeth and mischief. “What brings you out of your little hidey-hole?”

She glares at him but doesn’t say anything. She’s outmatched, and she knows it. With one last seething look at you, she vanishes into thin air with a dramatic whoosh of smoke, leaving you and Lilia alone in the now eerily quiet forest.

You turn to him, utterly confused. “What the heck was that about? Why didn’t her magic work on me?”

Lilia’s grin softens, his gaze turning fond. “Ah, I see I’ve forgotten to tell you. I placed a fae’s blessing on you some time ago.”

“Wait, what?” You gape at him. “When did you do that?!”

He chuckles, as if you asking when he bestowed a magical shield on you is the most amusing thing he’s heard all week. “You tend to attract trouble, my dear. I thought it best to give you a little extra protection.”

You blink at him, still processing. “So… you’ve been secretly protecting me this whole time?”

His gaze turns a bit more serious, the usual playful air dropping away. “I don’t want to see anything happen to you,” he says softly, the words carrying a weight you hadn’t expected.

For a moment, you’re left speechless, flustered even. The teasing and jokes you’re so used to from Lilia are gone, replaced by something… deeper. It throws you off your game.

“Well, uh…” You clear your throat, desperately trying to recover. “I appreciate not getting turned into a frog or whatever she was planning.”

His grin returns, and the moment passes. “You’re welcome. Now, shall we head back to the market? I believe you were on a quest for... ramen, was it?”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as the absurdity of it all catches up with you. “Yeah, let’s do that. And maybe next time I’ll avoid wandering into spooky villain lairs.”

“An excellent plan,” he says, offering you his arm. “Shall we?”

And just like that, you’re back on track—albeit a bit more shaken than before, but at least you’ve got a magical blessing you didn’t know about and one very charming fae escorting you through the mess.

You’re sitting under a large tree in the courtyard, soaking up the rare bit of peace and quiet that’s fallen over your life. It’s a nice day, the kind that makes you feel all warm and content, the sun shining gently through the leaves. Beside you, Silver is leaning against the trunk, dozing off as usual. You’ve become used to his tendency to fall asleep mid-conversation, and honestly, it’s kind of adorable.

He stirs a little, blinking his sleepy eyes open and looking at you with a soft smile. “It’s nice to have moments like this,” he says, voice a bit groggy. “Especially after everything.”

“Yeah,” you reply, leaning back on your hands. “It’s been... a lot.”

Silver glances at you, his gaze thoughtful. “You really helped us. My family,” he says, his tone a bit more serious than usual. “Freeing Lord Malleus from that curse... it was no small feat.”

Your stomach twists a little at the mention of Malleus. It still feels surreal that you had a hand in such a monumental event. You shrug, trying to play it cool. “Eh, you know... just another day of accidentally stumbling into chaos.”

He chuckles lightly, his smile softening even more. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to thank you properly for what you’ve done. You really saved us all.”

You wave your hand dismissively. “Stop, you’re going to make me blush. I was just trying to make some money, and suddenly I’m in the middle of an epic quest. You know how it is.”

Silver hums, half-amused, and then casually drops the bomb on you like it’s the most normal thing in the world: “You’d be perfect with Father.”

Your brain short-circuits. “...Sorry, what?”

Silver, utterly oblivious to the internal crisis he’s just unleashed within you, looks at you with that serene, peaceful expression of his. “Father. You’d be perfect with him.”

The world screeches to a halt. *Perfect? With Lilia?* You stare at him, wide-eyed, your mouth hanging open in a most undignified manner. “I’m sorry, did you just—did you just suggest that I—me—should be with your father?!”

Silver nods, looking completely at peace with his assessment, like he’s just commented on the weather. “Yes. You two get along well. You make each other laugh, and he seems fond of you. And Father... well, he deserves someone who can make him smile like that.”

Your mind is racing at 100 miles per hour. “Silver. SILVER.” You clutch your head as if physically holding your brain together will stop it from spiraling into madness. “Do you have any idea what you just said?”

Silver, ever the calm and composed knight, merely tilts his head. “Was it something strange?”

“STRANGE?!” You’re flailing now, completely losing your cool. “You just casually suggested I should date your father! Who, may I remind you, is an ancient fae with enough power to casually toss me into another dimension if he wanted!”

Silver blinks, seeming to consider this for a moment. “I don’t think he’d toss you into another dimension. He’d probably just... laugh and then take you out to dinner.”

You’re having a full-blown existential crisis. Your face is bright red, your heart is doing somersaults, and you’re not sure if you want to scream, faint, or throw yourself into the nearest fountain.

Silver, meanwhile, is just sitting there, serene and utterly oblivious to the emotional chaos he’s just unleashed upon you. “Father’s a good person,” He says softly. “I think you two would be happy together.”

“I... I...” You sputter, trying to form words but utterly failing as images of Lilia’s teasing smile and playful banter run through your mind. And then you imagine the alternative: Lilia’s serious side, the one that is somehow even more terrifyingly attractive, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

“Oh no,” you whisper, clutching your chest. “Oh no, no, no... Silver, what have you done?”

Silver looks at you with concern now, finally noticing that you’re having what can only be described as a breakdown. “Are you alright?"

“NO!” you cry, standing up and pacing back and forth in front of him. “You’ve broken me! You’ve ruined me! I’m��Silver, your father is... He’s... and I... Oh, gods, this is too much. TOO MUCH!”

Silver watches you pace for a moment before quietly saying, “You’re thinking about it, though.”

You freeze mid-step. “I—NO! Maybe? Yes? I—Why would you say that, Silver?!”

He just smiles, a soft, knowing smile. “Because it’s true.”

You slump back down beside him, groaning loudly as you cover your face with your hands. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Silver chuckles softly, resting his head back against the tree again. “I’ve heard that before.”

And as you sit there, your mind spinning with thoughts of Lilia and all the ridiculous, impossible implications Silver’s comment has brought to life, you can’t help but think that maybe—just *maybe*—he has a point.

But you’re not ready to admit that yet. Not even to yourself.

“I need a drink,” you mumble under your breath, and Silver hums in agreement.

“Father would probably help you make it,” he says, and you let out a loud groan, flopping onto the grass in dramatic defeat.

“Silver, you’re killing me.”

He just smiles that peaceful smile of his.

It’s a quiet afternoon, the sun beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the courtyard. You’re standing with Malleus and Sebek in one of the palace’s gardens, the tranquil hum of life around you contrasting with the more serious conversation that’s about to unfold. You can feel the weight of what Malleus is about to say, and your mind spins as you prepare yourself for another emotionally charged moment.

Malleus takes a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. “For the longest time,” he begins, his voice soft and filled with an unspoken vulnerability, “I thought I would be stuck. Trapped in that cursed state forever. I had resigned myself to it, believing that it was my fate to be alone.”

You shift slightly, unsure how to respond to such raw honesty. Sebek, standing next to Malleus, is silent for once, his usual loud and defensive nature tempered by the gravity of his lord’s words.

“But then you came along,” Malleus continues, turning his glowing eyes toward you. “You broke the curse, something no one had been able to do. You gave me back my freedom, something I had lost hope of ever regaining.”

Sebek clears his throat loudly, his usual dramatic flair coming to the surface despite the tenderness of the moment. “Yes, well,” he says, voice gruff but tinged with the awkwardness of someone who isn’t quite used to expressing gratitude. “I... suppose we should be... grateful. After all, if it weren’t for you, Lord Malleus would still be... cursed, and we wouldn’t be here together as we are now.”

You blink at Sebek’s begrudging admission, feeling a small smile tug at your lips. The fact that he of all people is thanking you, even in such a roundabout way, is oddly touching.

“Wow, Sebek,” you say, voice teasing but soft. “Who knew you had it in you?”

Sebek bristles at your words, his expression a mix of indignation and embarrassment. “D-Don’t misunderstand!” he exclaims, face turning a shade redder than usual. “I’m merely stating the facts! Nothing more!”

Malleus chuckles softly at Sebek’s outburst, his usual gentle smile returning to his face. “Sebek’s gratitude, no matter how begrudging, is indeed a rarity,” he teases lightly before turning his attention back to you. “But truly, I am grateful. You’ve given me back more than just my freedom. You’ve given me back... this.”

He gestures around him, indicating the garden, the palace, the sky above. “This life, this chance to be with those I care about. And for that, I owe you a debt that I may never be able to repay.”

You shift awkwardly, feeling a strange warmth bloom in your chest. “I mean, I didn’t really set out to save anyone,” you admit, your voice light but with an edge of honesty. “I just... wanted the reward. And then maybe to go home.”

Sebek’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he opens his mouth to argue, but Malleus holds up a hand, stopping him before he can launch into one of his dramatic tirades

You hesitate, glancing between Malleus and Sebek. “I didn’t think I’d get attached,” you admit quietly, your voice softening. “But I have. Somehow, I’ve found myself... caring about all of you. This weird little makeshift family.”

Sebek looks as though he’s about to protest the “weird” part, but a stern glance from Malleus keeps him quiet. You can see the begrudging acknowledgment in his eyes, though—he knows it’s true, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

Malleus hums thoughtfully, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he speaks again. “Well,” he says casually, as if discussing something as simple as the weather, “if you’re so attached, perhaps we should make it official. Perhaps you should marry into the family."

You freeze. Did he just—?

You whip your head towards Malleus, completely flustered. “M-Marry?! What?!”

Sebek, on the other hand, looks as if someone just punched him in the face. His mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air, his eyes wide with outrage. “L-Lord Malleus, what are you suggesting?!” he sputters.

Malleus blinks, as calm as ever. “I’m suggesting marriage,” he repeats, as if it’s the most logical thing in the world. “If they are so attached to us, it seems a reasonable next step. Perhaps they should marry Lilia?”

Your face turns a bright shade of red as your heart pounds in your chest. “Wh-What?!” you stammer. “Lilia?!”

Sebek turns even redder, his face contorting in disbelief. “Master Lilia?!”

Malleus nods sagely, completely unfazed by both of your reactions. “Yes, Lilia. He has shown great affection for them, and they would fit well within our family. Would you not agree, Sebek?”

Sebek looks like he’s about to explode, but there’s an uncomfortable silence as he realizes… he can’t argue. He knows Malleus and Lilia both care about you. He knows that you’ve proven yourself to be a good person, despite his initial distrust. His mouth twitches, the words clearly struggling to escape his throat.

“I—well—Lord Malleus,” Sebek starts, looking every bit as if he’s been defeated by sheer logic. “I… I must admit… They are a suitable companion for Master Lilia… even if the idea of them marrying… well, it is quite… outrageous.”

You feel your soul leave your body as the conversation continues. Sebek can’t quite bring himself to fully agree, yet he doesn’t outright refuse the idea either. His loyalty to his lords binds him, and his begrudging acceptance of your presence has left him caught between duty and outrage.

“I—This—” you stammer, completely overwhelmed. “I—This is insane!”

Malleus looks at you with a calm smile. “Think it over,” he says, voice gentle. “You’ve already become part of our lives. Why not make it official?”

You open your mouth to protest, but the words die in your throat as you see the sincerity in his eyes. This isn’t just a flippant suggestion—it’s Malleus genuinely offering you a place in his family. But the idea of marrying Lilia? That’s… that’s a whole new level of madness.

“I—I think I need to lie down,” you mutter, pressing your hands to your temples. “This is too much.”

Malleus chuckles softly, and even Sebek seems to relax—if only a little. But as you glance between the two of them, you can’t help but feel a strange warmth in your chest. Even with all the absurdity, you know one thing for sure: you’ve found a place with them, whether you intended to or not.

The cat was just sitting there. Innocently perched on the branch, fluffy and regal like a tiny, judgmental king. You don’t even know what possessed you, really. Maybe it was those huge, adorable eyes or the way its tail flicked back and forth. But somehow, someway, you ended up halfway up a tree. Climbing a tree. For a cat.

“I just wanted to pet you,” you mutter, feeling slightly ridiculous as you hug the branch for dear life. “And now I’m stuck. Great.”

The cat stares at you, completely indifferent to your plight. You sigh, glancing down at the ground, which now seems alarmingly far away. Heights were never your thing, but in the moment, with that cute little furball teasing you, logic flew right out the window. Now, you’re clinging to the tree like a cowardly kitten yourself.

“Why did I think this was a good idea?” you groan. The cat blinks at you. “Don’t look at me like that. This is all your fault!”

And then, because fate has a terrible sense of humor, you hear a voice from below. A familiar, unmistakable voice—playful, with a hint of amusement laced through it.

“Well, well, what do we have here? It appears my dear little beastie has gotten themselves stuck.”

You nearly slip off the branch as you glance down to see Lilia standing at the base of the tree, arms crossed and an infuriatingly amused grin on his face. He looks every bit the mischievous fae, eyes twinkling with barely suppressed laughter.

“I—uh—this is—” You stammer, trying to come up with some kind of excuse, but nothing comes. You’re halfway up a tree. Because of a cat. No explanation is going to save your dignity now.

Lilia tilts his head, chuckling. “Were you planning on living up there from now on? Or should I assist you in returning to the ground?”

“Hey, don’t judge me!” you huff, cheeks burning. “The cat—look at the cat! It was really cute, okay?”

Lilia glances up at the feline, which is now licking its paw in complete disinterest. He raises an eyebrow. “Ah, yes, the cat. I see now. How could anyone resist such a noble creature?”

You groan, feeling your face get even hotter. “I—um—I might need help getting down.”

Lilia’s grin widens. “Of course, my dear. I was planning on catching you anyway.”

You freeze. “C-Catching me?”

“Mmhm. Just jump down, and I’ll catch you,” Lilia says, his tone so casual, as if catching people out of trees is just something he does every day. He spreads his arms out, waiting expectantly.

Your heart races as you eye the distance between the branch and the ground again. It’s not terribly high, but… still high enough to make you nervous. But Lilia’s standing there with that easy confidence, and the thought of staying stuck in this tree forever doesn’t exactly appeal to you either.

Taking a deep breath, you inch closer to the edge of the branch. “O-Okay. I’m going to jump.”

“Go ahead,” Lilia says, his voice soft. “I’ll catch you.”

With one last look at the disinterested cat, you finally push yourself off the branch. For a split second, there’s nothing but the rush of air—and then you feel yourself land securely in Lilia’s arms. You’re caught. Easily, gently. Like it was nothing at all.

He looks down at you, his face much closer than you anticipated. “See? I told you I would catch you.”

You’re breathless for a moment, your heart doing flips as you realize just how close you are to him. His arms are around you, holding you steady, and you can feel the warmth of his body through his clothes. He’s staring at you with that soft, amused smile, and you’re suddenly acutely aware of just how handsome he is.

“Oh no,” you whisper to yourself, “I’m swooning.”

Lilia raises an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

“Y-You’re really smooth,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. “Like, catching me so easily and looking at me like that. It’s—it’s really unfair.”

He chuckles softly, clearly entertained by your flustered state. “Unfair, you say?”

“Yeah, like—like, you’re so effortlessly cool and charming, and I—” You freeze, suddenly realizing what you’re saying. You clamp your mouth shut, but it’s too late. The words are out, and your brain has completely short-circuited.

And then, before you even know what’s happening, the words just spill out of you in a panicked rush. “Okay, I like you! No, wait—I think I’m in love with you! I mean, how could I not be? You’re so amazing, and I just—Oh god, I’m confessing! I’m confessing right now, aren’t I? This is a confession. Oh no, this is terrible. I didn’t mean to—”

You feel your entire body heat up as you bury your face in your hands, completely mortified. Of all the ways you could’ve confessed your feelings to Lilia, this had to be the worst possible way. You weren’t ready! You were supposed to be calm and collected, not blurting it out after getting caught in a tree!

For a moment, there’s silence. And then, you hear the softest chuckle from Lilia. His arms tighten around you slightly, pulling you just a little closer.

“You’re adorable,” he says, his voice soft and full of warmth.

You peek through your fingers, confused. “Huh?”

“I’ve known for a while that your feelings for me were more than friendly,” Lilia continues, his smile gentle. “But hearing you confess like this… it’s endearing.”

You blink, trying to process his words. “Wait—you’ve known?”

Lilia nods. “You’re not as subtle as you think, my dear.”

You groan again, hiding your face in your hands once more. “This is so embarrassing…”

Lilia laughs softly, and before you know it, he leans in and presses a light, gentle kiss to your forehead. Your heart skips a beat, and you lower your hands, looking up at him in surprise.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” Lilia says, his eyes soft. “I’m honored to be the one you’ve chosen.”

Your heart flutters as his words sink in, and you realize that, despite your mortification, he’s… accepting your feelings. He’s not teasing you or brushing it off—he’s genuinely acknowledging your confession. And more than that… he’s reciprocating.

“Lilia…” you whisper, your face still burning with embarrassment, but also with a warmth that you can’t quite describe.

He leans in a little closer, his nose brushing against yours. “You don’t need to say anything more, my dear. Just know that I feel the same.”

And with that, Lilia closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a soft, sweet kiss that makes your heart race even faster. All thoughts of your earlier panic melt away, replaced by the warmth of his touch and the feeling of being completely safe in his arms.

As he pulls back, you’re left staring at him, wide-eyed and breathless. Lilia smiles down at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement and affection.

“So,” he says, his voice teasing, “was that worth climbing a tree for?”

You blink, still dazed from the kiss. “I… I think so.”

Lilia laughs softly, pressing another quick kiss to your lips before setting you down on the ground. “Next time, though, perhaps we’ll find a more dignified setting for your confessions, hmm?”

You groan, covering your face again as you mutter, “Please don’t remind me…”

But despite your embarrassment, you can’t help the small, giddy smile that creeps onto your face as you realize that, somehow, things turned out perfectly anyway.

You sit with Lilia on a bench beneath the shade of a massive oak tree, the same one he caught you from, nerves simmering beneath your calm exterior. He’s as composed as ever, leaning back against the tree with a small, amused smile playing on his lips.

Across from you sit Malleus, Silver, and Sebek, all three watching you with varying degrees of curiosity—Malleus with calm interest, Silver with that sleepy, gentle acceptance, and Sebek with what you’re sure is the beginning of a tirade bubbling just beneath the surface.

“We have some news,” Lilia says, breaking the silence with his usual playful tone. His hand slips into yours, squeezing lightly. “About us.”

Malleus’s eyes light up with interest, his draconic gaze honing in on the subtle intertwining of your hands with Lilia’s. “News?” he repeats, leaning forward slightly. “What sort of news?”

You exchange a glance with Lilia, and he gives you a nod, as if to say go on, it’s safe. Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and blurt out, “We’re together. Like, romantically.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then Malleus’s eyes widen, his entire face brightening with delight. “Truly?” he asks, a rare, genuine smile spreading across his face. “That is wonderful news! You will be joining the family then?”

You blink, momentarily thrown off by how happy he is. “Uh, well—eventually, I guess. We haven’t exactly planned a wedding yet…”

“But when we do,” Lilia interjects smoothly, eyes glinting with amusement, “you will be the first to receive an invitation, Malleus.”

Malleus beams, the delight practically radiating off him like sunlight. “I would expect no less. To witness your union—ah, it will be a grand day.”

Meanwhile, Silver gives you both a small, approving nod. His expression is calm, though there’s a softness in his eyes that shows he’s happy for you. “I’m glad,” he says, his voice as gentle as ever. “Father deserves someone who makes him happy. And you… you seem to do that.”

Your heart warms at the approval from Silver. “Thanks, Silver,” you say, offering him a smile in return.

And then there’s Sebek.

For a moment, he just stares at you and Lilia, his mouth working as if he’s trying to form words. You brace yourself for the inevitable protest, expecting him to shout something about how inappropriate it is, or how you could never be good enough for Lilia, or—

“You…” Sebek finally speaks, though his tone is less outraged than you anticipated. He scowls, but there’s an undeniable hint of reluctant acceptance in his eyes. “You’re together, then?”

Lilia nods, his smile never wavering. “Indeed, Sebek.”

Sebek inhales deeply, closing his eyes as if preparing for some kind of inner battle. You can almost hear him wrestling with his instincts, wanting to object but also unable to deny the truth of the situation. After a long pause, he finally exhales and mutters, “Well… I suppose… if it makes Master Lilia happy, then…”

You’re about to breathe a sigh of relief when Sebek opens his eyes again, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “But that does not mean you should grow complacent! Just because Master Lilia has chosen you does not mean you are exempt from proving yourself worthy!”

Lilia laughs softly at Sebek’s stubbornness, and you can’t help but grin. “Of course, Sebek,” you say, teasing him lightly. “I’ll do my best to live up to your high standards.”

Sebek huffs, crossing his arms. “See that you do.”

Despite his bluster, you can tell he’s not truly upset. There’s a begrudging acceptance in his stance, the same way someone might finally accept that their favorite hero isn’t perfect, but still worthy of respect. Sebek might not be able to fully wrap his head around the idea of you and Lilia being together, but deep down, you can tell he doesn’t disapprove. Not really.

Malleus, meanwhile, is still beaming. “I look forward to your wedding,” he says, sounding genuinely excited. “It will be a grand celebration. And I will be the first to celebrate your union.”

You laugh, finally feeling the tension melt away. “You’ll be the first to get an invitation, don’t worry.”

Lilia squeezes your hand again, his eyes warm as he looks at you. “Indeed,” he says softly, “and I think it will be a lovely celebration.”

As you sit there, surrounded by Lilia’s peculiar little family, you can’t help but feel a swell of emotion. For all their eccentricities—Malleus’s dragon-like mannerisms, Silver’s sleepy but sincere approval, and Sebek’s stubborn loyalty—you’ve somehow found yourself among people who care. Who, in their own ways, are happy to see you and Lilia together.

And as you glance at Lilia, who’s still watching you with that fond, amused expression, you realize something important: this makeshift family of fae and knights… they’ve accepted you.

Flaws and all.

The living room felt a little too tense for your taste today. You were sprawled out on a chair, arms crossed, listening to the absurd conversation that seemed to have spiraled out of control.

Malleus, sitting at the head of the table, had the "serious prince" expression that made you roll your eyes every time you saw it. Lilia was perched on the back of his chair, his legs dangling, thoroughly amused by the current predicament. Sebek stood in his usual soldier-like stance, ready to protect everyone from... squirrels, apparently. And Silver was doing his best to stay upright while leaning on a wall. He was losing that battle.

“It’s time to discuss the prophecy” Malleus said, his voice carrying an ominous weight you found ridiculous. “The Squirrel Plague will bring misfortune. Entire kingdoms will fall to their tiny paws.”

You blinked. “We’re seriously talking about squirrels?”

Lilia nodded with an overly grave face. “Indeed, my dear. Squirrels are resourceful creatures. Vicious even, if the stories are true.”

Sebek puffed up his chest, eyes blazing with his trademark fervor. “MY LORD, IF THOSE RODENTS BELIEVE THEY CAN THREATEN YOU—"

You leaned forward, waving your hand dismissively. “Alright, alright, let's not hype up the squirrels too much, okay? This whole situation is ridiculous.”

Silver, who had just about managed to pry his eyes open, muttered, “It’s not just the squirrels. I heard some people talking about... uh, the Saint being accused of spying or something.”

The room fell into silence for a second, everyone digesting that little bombshell.

Lilia’s grin widened as if the idea of spies delighted him. “Spies, you say? This is getting quite intriguing.”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Yeah, no thanks. Squirrels are bad enough, but spies? I’m not dealing with this.”

Malleus turned towards you, a slight frown on his lips. “I assumed you wished to stay here. You haven’t mentioned wanting to leave before.”

You sighed, shrugging. “I mean, I don't have any attachments to this place. I stayed because you guys were here. But right now, let's bounce. Immediately. The squirrels can have this place.”

Silver, rubbing his eyes, nodded. “They're right. It’s a lot of hassle, and honestly, the squirrels are starting to weird me out. I saw one trying to chew through the wall this morning.”

Sebek turned to Silver with his mouth agape. “A SQUIRREL DARED TO ATTACK OUR DOMAIN?!”

Lilia chuckled, nodding. “They’re getting bolder, indeed. I even had one throw an acorn at me this morning. It was a declaration of war, I tell you.”

You waved your hands at them. “Guys, seriously. I don’t care if we’re at war with the squirrels. I just don’t want to be here. Briar Valley sounds much nicer, doesn’t it? No plagues, no spy accusations, no rabid rodents.”

Malleus blinked at you, then slowly smiled. “If you wish to leave, then there’s no reason for us to stay. I thought perhaps you'd not want to leave the place you grew up in, that you would be attached.”

“Attached?” You gestured dramatically at the window, where you swore you could see a squirrel watching with beady little eyes. “Nope. I’m only attached to you four, and I’m not risking my life for some acorn-flinging rodents.”

Silver yawned, already giving in. “I say we go. Less hassle, more sleep.”

Lilia gave a theatrical sigh leaning on Malleus. “Well, I suppose the adventure ends here. Back to Briar Valley it is! And I’ll be sure to bring along some acorns... perhaps we can keep the spirit of battle alive.”

Sebek, his voice still full of misplaced enthusiasm, nodded fiercely. “IF MY LORD DECIDES TO RETURN, THEN I SHALL ENSURE OUR JOURNEY IS WITHOUT PERIL! THE SQUIRRELS SHALL NOT—”

You interrupted with a grin. “Yes, yes, Sebek. You’ll protect us from the squirrels. Good job.”

Lilia hopped off Malleus’s chair, already halfway to the door. “I’ll go prepare the portal. Who knows, maybe we can get there in time for the fireflies.”

You got up too, stretching and giving one last look at the living room. “I think I’ve had enough of prophecies, plagues, and espionage.”

Lilia grins "Maybe we could have our wedding in Briar Valley". Malleus, now entirely on board, nodded with regal finality. “Then we shall return to Briar Valley. I trust the squirrels will not miss us.”

Lilia snickered, and you felt him squeeze your shoulder. “Perhaps we should bring a souvenir,” he mused. “A squirrel, perhaps, as a reminder of this peculiar little chapter of our lives.”

You shook your head, laughing. “I think I’d rather forget it altogether.”

With that, you and your four favorite Briar Valley residents left—leaving behind the squirrels, the spies, and every bit of drama that had nothing to do with you. Peace, it turned out, was just a portal away.

With that, the group made their decision—no heroic stand against the prophecy, no attempts to sort out spy dramas. Just a swift, sensible retreat to where things were far less complicated. And honestly? That suited you just fine.

Alright! I liked writing this a lot, It's not as chaotic as my other isekai ones but I like how it turned out!

Also if the formatting is off, I'm so sorry but I fell spectacularly on my ass while ice-skating and can't sit long enough to edit on my laptop.

Also quick poll for the next trash novel one, I'll definitely finish all of them, this is just for which one should I post first. They're all almost done.

Series Masterlist ; My Masterlists

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia twst #lilia x you #isekai #fem reader

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misctf · 2 months ago

Note

There's this straight guy at my job that has just the juiciest ass. it's a shame he's straight if only he was a bit more open minded he could put his assets to good use

"Dude! I can't believe they closed the gym next to my place." You overheard Alec saying one day, "Where am I supposed to go now?"

Alec... god why did he have to be straight? Good personality, killer smile, and an ass that was truly wasted on a straight man. If you had an ass like that... or if any of your hook-ups did... You couldn't help but let your fantasies run wild. Shame about his gym though... but than an idea popped into your head.

"Aw man, that sucks about your gym closing," you said, and before you could second guess yourself, you blurted out, "Hey, I actually have a great gym recommendation if you're looking for a new place!"

Alec raised an eyebrow curiously, "Oh yeah? What's the place called?"

"It's called Flex Fitness, downtown near the park. Really nice facilities, good crowd... and it's super LGBTQ+ friendly too." you added casually, gauging his reaction.

Alec's eyebrows shot up and he hesitated, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"LGBTQ+ friendly? As in..."

"I mean, yeah, it's popular with the gay community." you confirmed with a shrug, "But seriously, it's an awesome gym regardless."

Alec looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged, "I mean, I guess I'm open-minded enough to try it out. Can't hurt, right? As long as the equipment is good." He flashed you a grin, "Thanks for the tip, bro. I might check it out this weekend."

You couldn't help but smile. Maybe you'd get to catch a glimpse of him working out. The thought made you smile- guess admiring from a far would have to do.

____________________

The following Monday, as you walked into the office, you did a double take when you saw Alec. He wore a fitted short-sleeve polo shirt that clung to his muscular torso, showcasing his toned forearms and biceps. His pants were also much tighter, highlighting the curve of his ass and the thickness of his thighs.

"Morning!" Alec greeted you cheerfully, turning to face you fully. The movement made his pecs strain against the fabric of his shirt, "How was your weekend?"

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your gaze from roaming over his newly accentuated physique.

"Uh, hey man. Weekend was good. Yours?"

"It was pretty great actually," Alec said, leaning back against his desk, "Started going to that gym you recommended - Flex Fitness? Holy shit, it's amazing. Top notch equipment and the atmosphere is dope." He flexed almost imperceptibly, making his biceps pop, "I've been hitting it hard and I think it's already paying off. What do you think?" Alec asked with a playful wink.

You felt your face flush as you struggled to maintain eye contact with Alec, your gaze continually being drawn to the way his clothes hugged every sculpted inch of him.

"Y-yeah, you're looking great man. Love the haircut" you managed to stammer out, "The gym must be really good for you."

Alec grinned, pleased by your reaction, "Just the haircut?" He smirked and punched your arm playfully, "Between you and me, I think the 'gay-friendly' vibe is pretty cool too. Makes me feel... appreciated, you know?" You nod lamely, "Anyway, got to get back to these reports. I have a date with Amy later and need to get out of here on time."

____________________

Later that night, while browsing social media aimlessly, your thumb scrolled past the familiar blue logo of Flex Fitness and immediately stopped dead in its tracks. Staring back at you from the screen was none other than your coworker Alec, fresh from a workout session judging by the sheen of sweat glistening on his skin.

"Welcome to our newest member @aleclikes_lifting and thanks for this AMAZING post-workout selfie!" read the caption beneath the photo, "Check out that body - look at THAT ASS, amirite guys? 🍑 We're so lucky to have this hunk join our family at #FlexFitness. Give it up for the BEAST!"

Your heart nearly stopped when you saw the notification pop up - Alec had commented on the post! With shaking fingers, you clicked to read:

"A huge THANK YOU to everyone at @flex_fitness for making this straight boy feel SO welcome and accepted! 🏳️‍🌈💖 Never thought I’d love working out this much! Hope you like my post-leg day selfie."

His comment was flooded with likes and supportive replies from the gym’s followers, many expressing how happy they were to have him there, some expressing they were hoping to see more of him soon…

____________________

It was a day later when Alec approached you at your desk. His clothes seemed tighter. His perfect ass straining against his dress pants.

"Hey there stud!" Alec greeted you brightly as he approached your desk. You couldn't help but notice his eyes seemed off... glazed over... no gears turning behind them. "Gotta say, sending me to that Flex Fitness was the best thing you ever did for me!" You blinked in shock, noticing how Alec swayed his hips subtly as he leaned against your desk, "Girl, I have NEVER been treated like royalty before. The whole vibe is ELECTRIC!" Alec gestured expressively, seemingly high on his newfound fitness fame, "They took me in, loved on me, praised me… I feel like a whole new man!" His tongue clicked disapprovingly, "Too bad none of these uptight prudes here appreciate perfection when they see it!"

"Alec are you...?" Suddenly, as if realizing how he sounded, Alec's eyes widened and you noticed his eyes shift... no longer glazed over.

"Whoa... that was... I don't know what came over me, man." He ran a hand through his hair, looking flustered and confused, "I gotta... I gotta go. Something's not right, I feel all..." Alec shook his head vigorously, as if trying to clear it. Without finishing his sentence, he turned on his heel and hurried away, leaving you stunned and perplexed.

____________________

Late that evening, as you mindlessly scrolled through Instagram, another post from Alec caught your eye. The image was a close-up shot of his bare ass, perfectly rounded globes on full display. He wore a tiny pair of pink briefs that left little to the imagination, the thin fabric disappearing between his cheeks.

"Shoutout to @flex_fitness for helping me embrace my true self! Alec wrote in the caption. Something big is coming soon… stay tuned! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈"

As you read further, your eyes widened in shock. Alec had tagged Bare Essentials, a popular local gay strip club, in his post! Scrolling through the hundreds of thirsty comments, one stood out:

"Damn girl, you finally come out and play on our side? 😜 Are you, like, actually gay now or what?"

Alec replied instantly: "Duh sis, OBVIOUSLY! Couldn't hide this fabulously gay ass any longer. 🍑 Time to let my freak flag fly at Bare Essentials later! Who wants to be my first dance partner? ☺️🎉"

Your eyes widen. Was this real? What the fuck happened? You quickly text Alec asking him what the happened. Awkwardly congratulating him on coming out. Within seconds, he replies.

"Thank you for everything. I owe you big time for introducing me to Flex Fitness. Turns out, it helped me discover my TRUE self! 🌈 I'm officially out and proud now. Quit that boring job and ended things with Amy. She didn't deserve the real me anyway. I want YOU to meet me at Bare Essentials tomorrow night, 10pm. Let's celebrate together, cutie!"

Your eyes widen in disbelief. Something was wrong... there was no way... yet you couldn't help but pull up Alec's latest thirst trap. Taking in the sight of his impressive ass. Fuck...

____________________

The next evening, you nervously entered Bare Essentials, your heart pounding as you navigated the dimly lit hallway to the locker room. You pushed open the door and spotted Alec immediately, hunched over in front of a locker.

"Alec? Is that really you?" you sputtered, hardly recognizing your formerly strait-laced coworker. The piercing... the tattoo above his ass... the slight stubble...

Alec spun around, a brilliant smile spreading across his face, "I'm so glad you came!" He enveloped you in a tight hug, his bare chest pressing against you, "I know, I know, it's a lot to take in. But I feel so free, so alive!"

He turned slowly, letting you drink in the changes. The new piercings glinted in his ears and a tattoo adorned the smooth skin above his pert ass.

"I got these yesterday, to celebrate my new life. My authentic self." Yet you noticed his eyes were glazed over again... this time more evidently... not a single gear turning in that brain of his...

Alec shimmied into a glittery G-string, the scrap of material barely covering his manhood.

"So, whaddya think of the new me? Ready to watch me slay on stage?" He winked salaciously, striking a pose.

"Alec, I..." You do your best to keep eyes from glancing down at that incredible ass, "Something isn't..." But the words die in your throat as he leans in and whispers into your ear.

"After the show, I'll find you. My place is close by." His voice dripping with lust, "Now, what were you gonna say?"

You gulp, your dick straining in your shorts, "No-nothing... I..." His lips collide with yours and you stifle a moan as you lean into the kiss.

"See you later..." He breaks the kiss and winks.

You can only watch as he saunters away to the stage. His ass jiggling with every step. Something was wrong. Something wasn't right. But later that night, as he threw you into bed, you weren't going to ruin the moment.

#male tf #male transformation #personality tf #mental change #straight to gay #gay hypnosis

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fastandcarlos · 1 year ago

Text

Hickey : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: with all eyes on him, lando can't help but wonder what everyone is captured by. but when he finds out the problem, it's much bigger than he ever could've imagined

The room seemed to fall silent as soon as Lando walked in, with several glances moving in his direction. His heart began to race as he heard sniggers come from around the room, it was something that he wasn’t used to, usually greeted with wide smiles and shakes of the hand.

It was almost as if he’d walked into a dream, it was unlike anything that Lando had experienced before. He nervously walked to the side of the room as the drivers waited to be called out for the parade, seeking comfort from Oscar and a few of his other close friends who were stood in the corner of the room.

“What’s going on?” Lando queried as he stood between Oscar and Carlos, his eyes drawn to the expressions on their faces and how they tried their best to not smile across at him.

“Did you have a nice evening?” Carlos innocently asked him.

Lando nodded in confusion as a scoff came from George who was just beside Carlos. Lando’s brows knitted together as his anxiety built, hating the feeling as if he was missing out on something amongst them all.

“Y/N’s here this weekend, isn’t she?” Oscar asked. Lando nodded, knowing that Oscar already knew the answer. “We can tell you guys haven’t seen each other for a while.”

It didn’t take long before a couple of the other drivers joined their group, not wanting to miss out. There were a few exchanged glances amongst them all, but Lando just couldn’t piece together what they were all trying to say to each other as their eyes silently spoke.

“Did you happen to have a look in the mirror before you left your hotel room this morning? Or did Y/N say anything to you?” Alex asked, shaking his head across at Lando.

“She was still asleep, and I was running late.”

No one could quite believe how oblivious Lando was as he shrugged. It had grabbed everyone’s attention as soon as he entered the room, and had probably delighted the cameras as soon as Lando entered the paddock that morning.

“Can someone just tell me what I’m missing please?” Lando asked of them all.

Whilst some of them continued their laughter, Charles pulled his phone out of his back pocket and opened up his camera. Lando immediately panicked when he saw what Charles was doing, brushing over his face. Little did he know though, it wasn’t something that could just be brushed off.

“Just so you know, I said to the others that we should tell you,” Charles defended before he went to turn his phone around, at least trying to offer Lando one supportive friend.

“Tell me what? Just tell me what’s the matter.”

A sigh came from Charles as he turned his phone around. Lando studied himself carefully in it, but couldn’t spot anything, nothing that usually wasn’t out of the ordinary.

“Can you really not see the issue?” Oscar asked, struggling to hold back his laughter.

As Lando shook his head, Carlos walked over to him and pulled down the side of his hoodie. Watching on as the material moved, Lando’s eyes soon went wide.

“Now can you see what the problem is?” Carlos sighed at him, tapping his finger just below him. “Now do you see why you’re the centre of attention this morning?”

His heart began to race as he moved closer towards the phone, noticing just how dark the mark on his neck was. His eyes shut, knowing that there was nothing that he could do about it, dreading to think what had already happened before he even noticed too.

“I’ve got a hickey,” Lando muttered underneath his breath.

No one quite knew where to look as Lando looked around in panic. It was beyond anything that Lando could’ve ever imagined, almost like the things that nightmares are made of, especially when you get as much attention as he does.

“What am I supposed to do?” He nervously asked, but no one seemed to have the answer, it was a situation that none of the drivers had ever found themselves in before.

There was one driver though who had a bit of an idea. “What about if you paint yourself purple for the race today, that way it’ll blend in and no one will ever know?”

“Daniel, sometimes I really just want to knock you out.”

Whilst Lando looked unimpressed, Daniel’s suggestion earnt a chorus of laughs from many of the other drivers. Whilst some couldn’t hold back their giggles, luckily for Lando, he had a couple who could sympathise.

“There’s got to be some merch somewhere that’ll hide your neck,” Alex suggested, throwing his arm over Lando’s shoulders. “If that fails, just pretend you’ve got a nasty stomach bug and ask to go home.”

“I’m just going to have to own it now, I bet there’s headlines everywhere, aren’t there?” Lando asked, the silence around the room telling him everything that he needed to know.

Of all of the boys, George cleared his throat. “I promise that the headlines aren’t as terrible as you probably think they are Lando.”

Lando nodded, it still didn’t make him feel any better. Especially for you. You were just a few minutes from arriving at the paddock and he knew exactly what sort of questions would be sent your way upon your arrival.

Like the media, a few of the boys couldn’t help but think about Y/N too. “Have you got matching marks or something?” Daniel quizzed, unable to stop himself messing with Lando, just like Lando had done with him many times. “Are you just letting everyone know you’re together this weekend.”

“You can tease me all you want, but none of you are to say anything to Y/N,” Lando quickly warned them all, “she’s going to be embarrassed enough about this as it is when she gets here.”

“I never had Y/N down for this type of person.”

“Daniel!” Lando groaned, elbowing him in the side. “I’m being serious, if anyone says anything to Y/N then I can guarantee you right now that I know all of your weaknesses and I will happily expose you all for them.”

It was funny watching Lando be serious, but when it came to you, they all knew just how much he meant it. He would back you all the way and defend you no matter what had happened.

“At least we all know you and Y/N are happy together,” Carlos grinned as he tried to lighten the mood again. “Let’s worry more about covering this mess up for now seeing as we’ve got a race to get to soon.”

“You’re all enjoying this too much,” Lando scolded, displeased by the smirks on many of his closest friends around him. “Some of you really need to get yourselves girlfriends.”

As Lando went to walk off with Carlos, Charles quickly stopped him. Before Lando could protest, Charles used his phone to take a photo of Lando and keep it as a memory.

“Just for the future,” he innocently smiled as Lando hit against his arm. “I think this is an important day that we might all want to remember one day.”

“I’ve never hated a group of people more in my life,” Lando sighed as Charles slotted his phone away. “At least there’s one person who wants to help me out.”

“I’ve got no sympathy,” Oscar shrugged, seemingly the spokesperson of the group. “You should’ve known what you were doing back at your hotel last night.”

Lando’s eyes rolled at Oscar’s scolding, “do you think if I knew this was going to happen I would have let Y/N do this to me?” He quizzed, pointing at the mark.

“Knowing you, yes,” Oscar couldn’t help but laugh, “anything to get a little bit of attention, we all know what you’re like with your relationship.”

“I honestly hate you all.”

“But at least we all know Y/N loves you though!”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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satellite-evans · 1 year ago

Text

Caught in the Act

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Benedict and his wife, his muse, are interrupted by his mischievous sister Eloise during a private painting session.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: fluff, Eloise being a tease

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The Bridgerton residence was always buzzing with activity. Whether it was the younger siblings running through the halls or the older siblings preparing for yet another social event, there was never a dull moment. Amidst this lively chaos, Benedict Bridgerton found his moments of peace and creativity in his art studio, tucked away in a quiet corner of the estate.

It was in this sanctuary that he often invited you, his beloved wife and muse, to pose for him. Today was no different. The soft afternoon light filtered through the large windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Benedict stood at his easel, his eyes intensely focused on the canvas before him. You reclined on a chaise lounge, draped in a delicate, nearly translucent gown that accentuated your natural grace and beauty.

"Benedict," you murmured, your voice laced with a hint of anxiety, "are you sure it's not too risky to do this here? Anyone could walk in."

He looked up from his work, his gaze tender as he regarded you. "We’ve done this before without any issues. Besides, the light in here is perfect, and you look absolutely stunning. Trust me, my love, everything will be fine."

You sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Alright, but if we get caught, I'm blaming you."

He chuckled, a deep, soothing sound that always managed to calm your nerves. "Fair enough."

The room settled into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the soft swishing of Benedict's brush and the occasional rustle of your gown. You admired the way his brow furrowed in concentration, his hand moving with practiced ease. It was in these quiet moments that you felt closest to him, sharing a connection that went beyond words.

ust as he was about to add the finishing touches, the door to the studio burst open. Eloise Bridgerton, ever the inquisitive and outspoken sibling, strode in without a second thought.

"Benedict, have you seen—" She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she took in the scene before her. "Oh."

Benedict froze, his brush hovering in mid-air. You quickly pulled the shawl you had draped over your shoulders tighter, your cheeks flushing with mortification as you realized just how exposed you were.

"Eloise!" Benedict exclaimed, clearly flustered. "Ever heard of knocking?"

Eloise's shock quickly gave way to a mischievous grin. "I didn't realize I needed to knock in my own home. But now I see why I should."

You buried your face in your hands, feeling utterly mortified. Benedict, on the other hand, looked equally embarrassed. He set his brush down and moved to stand protectively in front of you.

"Eloise, what do you want?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"I was looking for a book," she said, still grinning. "But I suppose it can wait."

Benedict sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yes, it can. Now, if you don't mind—"

"Oh, don't worry," Eloise interrupted, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I'll leave you two lovebirds to your... art."

With that, she turned on her heel and left, closing the door behind her with a soft click. You and Benedict stared at each other for a moment before you buried your face in your hands again.

"I can't believe that just happened," you groaned, your voice muffled.

Benedict gently pulled your hands away from your face, his eyes filled with concern. "I'm so sorry, my love. I should have been more careful."

"You think?" you replied, half-joking, half-serious. "I am never posing in this house again. That was mortifying."

Benedict hugged you tightly, his arms offering comfort. "I promise, next time we'll find somewhere more private. But you have to admit, it does make for a memorable story."

You couldn't help but laugh despite yourself. "I suppose so."

Later that evening, the Bridgerton family gathered for an informal dinner. The aroma of roasted meats and fresh bread filled the air, mingling with the sound of cheerful conversation and laughter. You sat beside Benedict, your hand resting comfortably on his under the table.

Eloise, ever the mischief-maker, caught your eye and winked. You felt a blush creep up your neck as you recalled the earlier incident. Benedict squeezed your hand reassuringly, his thumb brushing soothing circles on your skin.

"So, Benedict," Eloise began, her voice dripping with innocent curiosity, "how's your latest painting coming along?"

Benedict shot her a warning glance, but she merely raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the moment. "It's coming along quite well, thank you," he replied evenly.

"Oh, I'm sure it's wonderful," Daphne chimed in, not noticing the undercurrent of the conversation. "Your work is always so impressive."

"Indeed," Anthony added, his tone more serious. "You've truly found your calling, brother."

Violet Bridgerton, ever the attentive matriarch, picked up on the tension. "Benedict, dear, you should show us your latest work soon."

Eloise leaned forward, her tone light and playful. "I suppose it's easier to be passionate when you have such a... captivating subject. Isn't that right, sister?"

You nearly choked on your wine, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I—um, well..."

Benedict shot Eloise a warning look. "That's enough, Eloise."

Eloise just smiled sweetly. "I'm only saying, you must find it very inspiring."

Violet's eyes twinkled with understanding. "Eloise, that is quite enough. Perhaps you should leave your brother and his wife in peace."

Colin, always quick to join in the fun, leaned back in his chair. "I'd love to see the painting. It must be quite the masterpiece if it has caused such a stir."

yacinth, always eager to be part of any conversation, piped up. "Can we see it, Benedict? Please?"

Gregory, not to be outdone by his younger sister, added, "Yes, show us! We promise to be quiet and not interrupt next time."

You buried your face in your hands again, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. "Oh my goodness," you murmured, mortified.

You truly never felt so embarrassed in your entire life.

The conversation shifted to other topics, and the rest of the family seemed unaware of the underlying tension. You couldn't help but steal glances at Benedict, admiring his composure. Despite the earlier embarrassment, you felt a deep sense of pride in being a part of his world.

After dinner, as the family dispersed, Benedict took your hand and led you outside to the garden. The night air was cool and fragrant with the scent of blooming flowers. He guided you to a secluded bench, where you both sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

"I'm sorry about Eloise earlier," he said quietly, his eyes searching yours.

You shook your head, smiling. "It's alright, Benedict. It was bound to happen sooner or later."

He chuckled softly. "True. Still, I wish we could have more moments just for us."

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. "We will. And until then, I'll cherish every second we have together, even the interrupted ones."

Benedict turned to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering. "You are my muse, my love. And I am forever grateful for you."

The moonlight cast a silvery glow over the garden, creating a perfect backdrop for the tender moment you shared. Wrapped in each other's arms, you felt an unspoken promise pass between you—a promise of love, support, and a future filled with countless more beautiful moments, whether they were stolen in secret or shared with the world.

#benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton #bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader #benedict bridgerton x you #fluff #bridgerton season 3

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levanterhaze · 6 months ago

Text

── GAMEBOY, BANGCHAN

♡ ― 󠀬󠀬 fratboy!bangchan x f!reader there's no smut in this one just a sliiiight mention of it, this is just drama and angst because this chapter will tell a lot about their future relationship! contains mentions of anxiety too.

♡ synopsis ― Bangchan is the campus playboy—charming, cocky, and infuriatingly irresistible. One reckless, drunken night leads to a secret you swore you'd never have. Now, hating him is harder than keeping him your dirty little secret.

[5.5k words ]♡― i can't believe that so many people like gameboy, like, that's crazy! thanks for everyone's support. to those who ask to be added to the taglist, it warms my heart. if you want to talk about the story or anything else, i'm open to questions and conversation! don't forget to listen to the playlist and those who just got here PLEASE READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS!!!! that said, have a good read.

♡― THE PLAYLIST.

♡ [part one] ♡ [part two] ♡ [part three]

You're scared of heights, that's vertigo You wanted lights, go see a show You ran away, that's touch and go You're scared of love, well, aren't we all?

What was supposed to be a one-time thing turned into two days, then three, then four. Before you even realized it, seeing him had become part of your routine, like breathing—natural, inevitable, and far too easy to justify.

Today, though, your mind was anywhere but on him. Mrs. Baek had scheduled a meeting, nothing more, nothing less. You and Hyunjin were goofing around, hands clasped as you twirled like a chaotic, offbeat version of Jack and Rose at a third-rate ballroom. Seungmin doubled over laughing, because of course he did. That was just your dynamic—ridiculous by nature, friends for life.

Then, everything stopped. A chorus of surprised gasps cut through the room, followed by an eruption of chatter that made your spinning halt. Confused, you glanced around, searching for the source of the commotion—until you saw her. Mrs. Baek stood at the front, and next to her…

No. Absolutely not.

Your stomach flipped as your eyes landed on him. Standing there with his head tilted slightly downward, one hand gripping the opposite arm—ridiculously muscular, by the way—Bangchan looked unfairly good in a black T-shirt that was doing the bare minimum to cover anything.

Your gaze flickered to Hyunjin, then to Seungmin, silently demanding an explanation, but before either of them could speak, Mrs. Baek’s voice cut through the haze of your disbelief.

“…which is why we now have a new student to take care of the sound design. Welcome, Bangchan.”

And then—anger.

The girls whispered like they’d just witnessed the famous idol in the world. Bangchan basked in the attention, grinning at them, then at the guys. And then, of course, his eyes found you. One brow lifted, pure challenge.

No. Fucking. Way.

“Sound design? Since when?” you weren’t really expecting an answer, but Hyunjin, ever the dependable sidekick, squeezed your shoulder and offered a half-smile.

“It’s kinda his and Jisung’s thing,” he said, arms crossed as he observed Bangchan effortlessly charm his way through the group. “Jisung’s drowning in work this semester, so I guess that’s why.”

Oh, how nice. How convenient. You couldn’t care less. It was one thing sneaking around with him in secret. It was another for him to invade your space. Your special space. And worse—acting like he belonged there.

As soon as the group began to break apart, you made your exit, feet moving fast. The last thing you needed was—

“Running away already?”

You stopped dead, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. Spinning on your heel, you found Bangchan standing there, arms crossed, smirking like he had all the time in the world.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” you shot back.

“Ouch.” he clutched his chest, faking a wince. “You look angry.”

“Oh, do I?” your voice dripped with sarcasm. “That’s because I am.”

Lucky for him, the corridor was empty—just the theater crew lingering in the distance.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you demanded.

“Gonna need you to be more specific.”

You inhaled sharply. “Seriously? Sound design? You don’t even like theater.”

He took a step closer, brows furrowing.

“How would you know? We’re not friends.” the way he said it was off—something about his tone made your stomach twist. But you ignored it. “And if you actually bothered to find out, you’d know that, shockingly, I do this for real.”

You hated being proven wrong. But you especially hated being proven wrong by Bangchan.

“Look,” you sighed, arms crossing. “I don’t know what your game is, okay? But just… don’t mess things up. I like them the way they are.”

Bangchan nodded, slow and deliberate. But something flickered in his eyes—something unreadable. His stomach clenched, and he didn’t like the reason why. Because the way you said it, like having him here without sex was some kind of inconvenience, left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” his voice dropped an octave, sharp and cold. He met your gaze head-on, not an ounce of warmth left. “The world doesn’t revolve around you.”

And just like a punch to the gut left hanging in the air, he was gone. No rush, no glance back—just the weight of his words lingering between you.

Things were a mess, and you needed to get a grip. Studying, focusing—doing something that wasn’t theater or… well, him. The last few days had blurred together, your attention split in ways you weren’t used to. And you hated it.

The library was too quiet, the kind of silence that crawled under your skin. Three art history books sat open in front of you, mocking your lack of focus. It was ridiculous. How the hell had you let some guy scramble your brain like this? That wasn’t you. It had never been you.

Frustration boiled over, and before you knew it, you snapped one of the books shut, the sharp thud cutting through the silence.

“Jesus. What did the book ever do to you?”

The voice came from behind you, smooth and amused. You barely looked up before Mingyu’s face came into view. It hit you then—how distracted you’d been at the fundraiser. Otherwise, you definitely would have noticed him before. That annoyingly charming, white-knight smile. Tanned skin. Muscles for days.

He grinned, leaning over your table, arms flexing just enough to be intentional.

“Sorry. My head's a mess.”

Mingyu nodded, taking in your exasperated, borderline fried expression. “Yeah, you look like it,” he said with a knowing half-smile, sliding into the empty chair across from you like he belonged there. No permission needed.

You sighed, gesturing vaguely at the books. “Just trying to focus.”

His smirk deepened. “Right. Because nothing says laser focus like slamming a textbook shut like it just insulted your mother.”

You huffed, but the corner of your mouth twitched.

“Well, since you’re clearly on the verge of a breakdown, I have an idea.” He leaned back, stretching in a way that was both casual and strategic. “A coffee. On me.”

You opened your mouth to answer, but your phone vibrated against the table, barely visible beneath the stack of books. A quick glance at the screen. One new message.

Bangchan: my dorm. 30 min.

Your pulse jumped. Short. Direct. No room for misinterpretation.

“Everything okay?” Mingyu’s voice pulled you back, his eyes scanning your face.

“Yeah, yeah.” you laughed, maybe too lightly. “Just… distracted. Coffee sounds good.”

His grin widened. “Perfect. Let’s go.”

“Just let me put this back…” you grabbed one of the books, heading for the shelf when your phone buzzed again.

Bangchan: ignoring me?

You exhaled, fingers hovering over the screen.

You: I can't. I have plans.

A pause. Then—

Bangchan: ok.

You pressed your forehead against the bookshelf, inhaling deeply, willing away the strange tightness in your stomach. It was ridiculous. It was just a text.

When you returned, Mingyu was still at the table, casually texting someone. He looked up as you approached, grinning. “Everything good?”

“Yeah.” you nodded, forcing a smile.

He was nice enough to grab your bag and help carry your notebooks, the easy charm of someone who had probably been effortlessly handsome his whole life. The café wasn’t far—just a short walk from campus—but the crowd made it feel like the busiest spot in town.

Mingyu picked a table near the entrance, the air thick with the smell of espresso and fresh pastries. Strawberry sponge cake. Cinnamon rolls. Chocolate mousse cupcakes. The kind of place that made you want to abandon all responsibilities and drown yourself in sugar.

And yet, as you sat down, all you could think about was the ok.

Mingyu ordered coffee for you both but went the extra mile, adding a slice of strawberry shortcake to share.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.” you smiled, wrapping your hands around your cup, already feeling the caffeine seep into your system like a lifeline.

He shrugged. “I wanted to. You looked like you needed something sweet.”

You caught the double meaning but let it slide. He was being nice, and you weren’t in the mood to overanalyze. “Right. So… football?” Smooth. Real smooth.

Mingyu didn’t seem to mind. “Going well. We’re set for the next game, and if we keep this up, the next university sponsorship should be ours.”

“That’s great, Mingyu.”

“Yeah, but I heard drama class was saved. Good news, huh?”

“Great news. We’ve got enough for now.” you took a bite of cake, letting the sugar melt on your tongue. Mingyu watched you, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“I’m happy for you. Getting the basketball team to sell brownies half-naked must’ve been a real passion project.”

You laughed. “It was, but that wasn’t me. That was Bangchan.”

It felt strange, saying his name out loud. Different when he wasn’t there.

Mingyu frowned, arms crossing over the table.

“Bangchan did that?” his brows knitted together, skepticism lacing his tone.

You shrugged, taking another bite of cake. “That’s what I heard. Why? You guys friends?” the idea alone made your stomach twist in an oddly unpleasant way.

“No. Not even close.” he laughed, shaking his head as if the thought was ridiculous. “Just curious.”

“Well, instead of wasting brain cells on him, you should try this.” you pushed the plate slightly toward him. “It’s actually amazing.”

Mingyu picked up a fork, took a bite, and let out an appreciative groan. You grinned, clapping your hands as if you had just won a bet, then promptly stole another piece for yourself.

Being with him was easy—effortless, even. A surprising friendship you hadn't expected but didn’t mind one bit.

Back at the dorm, Eunji and Sohee were curled up on the couch, sharing a bucket of popcorn while a movie played on the laptop. Your casual entrance was met with two pairs of curious eyes locking onto you like detectives sniffing out a case.

“Where have you been?” Eunji narrowed her eyes, her fingers pausing mid-popcorn grab.

“Why?” you laughed, kicking off your shoes.

“You’ve been acting weird,” she accused, tilting her head. “Always busy, barely around.”

“Sorry, I... I've just been very busy. The theater is eating me up. And there's the exams...”

Sohee smirked. “Why do you smell like coffee?”

“What?” you instinctively sniffed your shirt, the rich aroma of espresso lingering faintly.

Eunji gasped, scandalized. “You totally went out with someone!”

Sohee just shook her head knowingly, already seeing through you. “Liar.”

“Alright, fine! I got coffee with Mingyu. Happy now?”

As soon as the words left your mouth, Sohee’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Mingyu from the soccer team?”

Eunji, on the other hand, nearly leaped off the couch. “Girl, you rocked it! I knew you had game, but Mingyu? That man is fine.”

You groaned, already regretting your life choices. “It wasn’t a thing, okay? We’re friends. We had coffee. That’s it.”

Eunji scoffed, dramatic as ever. “Honey, nothing with Mingyu is just coffee. That man doesn’t do casual.” she clasped her hands together like she was already planning your wedding.

You sighed, exasperated. “Make her stop.” you turned to Sohee, your last hope.

But Sohee just smirked. “I mean… she’s not wrong.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Oh my God.”

“Look, you’ve been drowning in rehearsals and exams. Maybe this is a good thing,” Sohee added, ever the voice of reason.

A good thing. That uneasy feeling crawled up your spine again.

Because the problem wasn’t Mingyu.

Because you had met someone. Someone who already occupied every corner of your mind. Someone who texted you with demands instead of invitations. Someone who kissed like it was the only language he spoke.

And that someone sure as hell wasn’t Mingyu.

“Alright, I’m done.” you grabbed your things and stood up. “I’m taking a shower. Goodnight.”

Before they could say another word, you ducked into your room, shutting the door behind you.

Now, if only you could shut off your thoughts just as easily.

It was lunchtime, and the table was buzzing with chatter. It had been nearly two days since you’d heard from Bangchan. Odd, right? The silence felt almost intentional. No texts, no glances that said too much.

You were sharing a basket of French fries with Hyunjin when suddenly, that topic came up. Jisung was DJing at another party this weekend, and everyone was planning to go. Of course, Eunji—bless her heart and big mouth—decided now was the time to bring up the perfect subject.

“You should invite Mingyu, now that you’re going out and all.”

You nearly choked on a fry, coughing like you’d just inhaled a cloud of smoke. Hyunjin slapped your back, but you could feel all eyes on you as the table went silent, then turned to look in your direction.

Bangchan, seated across from you, slouched in his chair like he didn’t care. But you knew better. The tension radiating from him was like a ticking time bomb.

“You’re seeing Mingyu?” Hyunjin’s voice dripped with mock disbelief. “How am I your best friend, and this is news to me?”

Great. Just great. The whole table was waiting for an answer, and suddenly, everything felt like it was about to spiral out of control.

“Going out with Mingyu? Really?” Changbin raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “I thought you had better taste, bro.”

“For fuck’s sake, I’m not dating anyone!” you shot back, finally managing to catch your breath after the shock of the conversation.

“Sure, sure. But you two went out the other day, didn’t you?” Eunji grinned, clearly enjoying every second of it.

You felt it before you saw it: Bangchan’s eyes, burning into the side of your head. His silence wasn’t just a void, it was a warning, sharp and heavy. You should’ve felt guilty—after all, you had brushed him aside for Mingyu.

“But we’re not together,” you quickly clarified, hoping to quell whatever storm was brewing behind his eyes. “And he’s practically at every party anyway. It’s not like he’s not going to show up.”

Eunji wasn’t buying it. “Still should invite him, though.”

Hyunjin tossed an arm around your shoulders, all casual but still sorta protective. “Alright, stop messing with my girl,” he said, voice light but you could tell he wasn’t having it.

You muttered a quick ‘thank you,’ relieved when the focus shifted away from you. Your thoughts drifted as you nibbled on the end of your fry, mind half on your food, half on the tension buzzing at the table.

Bangchan, though, wasn't as distracted. He sat there, twisting his tongue inside his cheek, fighting off the surge of frustration coiling in his gut. The thought of you with Mingyu? It hit him like a wrecking ball. Not just because you had ditched him for the guy, but Mingyu.

He could hardly keep his anger in check. Only his closest friends knew the history between the two of them—and no one, especially not you, would ever guess how deep that hatred ran.

He couldn’t stand it any longer. Without a word, he stood, breaking the rhythm of the conversation.

“Leaving already?” Changbin asked, raising an eyebrow. Lunch still had half an hour left, but Bangchan didn’t seem to care.

“Yeah, gotta handle something,” he muttered, his voice sharp enough to make everyone shut up for a second.

The group barely noticed his departure. You certainly didn’t. After all, it wasn’t like anything was out of the ordinary. Right?

The days were flying by, and with every one that passed, the auditions loomed closer. The lineup was finally set—each student would perform next Friday, the day before Jisung’s party. No pressure or anything. Your nerves were on high alert, and anxiety was practically gnawing at your bones.

And then there was Bangchan. Or rather, the lack of him. You hadn’t heard a word from him in days. During the rare times you actually sat with the guys for lunch, his seat was just... empty. And you pretended not to care, stealing quick glances and keeping your mouth shut.

Most of your free time was spent holed up in the library, pretending to study, or locked in your room, trying to convince yourself that, yes, you could totally make it through the semester without crumbling under stress. Mingyu had texted you a few times, but you’d dodged his messages so hard that even you felt guilty about it.

Not that he seemed to care. The guy was persistent. He still wanted to take you out, get to know you, charm his way into... whatever he was aiming for. Just today, he’d invited you to join him and the soccer team at some bar near campus. Apparently, they were celebrating a big win—not that you had a single clue who they even played against.

You needed to get out. Desperately. But showing up solo to a team hangout? That was a level of confidence even you didn’t have. So, naturally, you did what any sane person would—you called your emergency contact.

Hyunjin picked up before the second ring.

“Well, well, look who finally decided to return from the dead,” he drawled.

“Yeah, yeah. Roast me later. Right now, I need a favor.”

“Hm. Depends.”

“There’ll be drinks,” you baited, already knowing his answer.

He sighed dramatically. “Fine. But if I go, you have to give me the full rundown on whatever mess you’ve got going on with Mingyu.”

You exhaled sharply, tilting your head back like the universe was punishing you. “Ugh. Deal.”

Satisfied, you threw on a black fit—strappy top, skirt, boots, plus a long-sleeved cardigan for balance—and grabbed your phone to text Hyunjin.

And that’s when you saw him.

Bangchan.

Walking toward his dorm, jacket slung over his shoulder, bag in one hand. The second he spotted you, it was like his brain hit a hard reset. Blue screen. No thoughts, just you.

You, on the other hand? You just…froze. Phone still hovering mid-air like you were trying to signal the mothership.

He looked good, annoyingly so—tired, sure, but with that effortlessly undone look that made you want to fix things that weren’t even broken. And judging by the way his jaw tightened ever so slightly, he wasn’t exactly thrilled to see you looking this good either.

You could practically hear the battle happening in his head. Logic telling him to keep walking. Instinct screaming at him to drag you somewhere private and remind you exactly why you shouldn’t be ignoring him.

But no. Neither of you moved. Just standing there, locked in some ridiculous silent standoff from across the way.

That is, until a hand brushed against yours.

“Took you long enough,” Hyunjin teased, but his voice trailed off the second he noticed who had stolen your attention. His steps slowed, eyes flicking between you and Bangchan like he’d just walked into the middle of a soap opera.

You bit back a smirk, shoving down the weird twist in your stomach. “Shall we?”

Hyunjin hesitated, still piecing things together. Then, with a last glance at Bangchan—who looked like he was about two seconds away from saying something he’d regret—he sighed.

“Yeah,” he muttered, brows still furrowed. “Let’s go.”

The moment you step into the bar, Mingyu zeroes in on you like a man on a mission—half-drunk, half-thrilled, and entirely shameless about how his gaze drags over you. He grins, tells you how gorgeous you look, and hands you a shot of soju like it’s a requirement for entry.

Hyunjin, of course, fits right in immediately, the social butterfly that he is. Meanwhile, you start to relax, the initial nerves fading as the drinks flow and the unfamiliar space becomes less intimidating. Mingyu’s friends are nice—too nice. The kind of nice that feels like they're sizing you up, like you’re some kind of prize waiting to be claimed. Mingyu’s prize.

The room is loud, buzzing with alcohol-fueled laughter and drunken debates, but your thoughts are fixated on something else. Someone else. And damn it, Mingyu is right there, flashing that easy smile, brushing his fingers against yours like it’s an accident every single time. Complimenting you in ways that should make your stomach flip.

But all you can think about is the guy who hasn’t spoken to you in days. The one who supposedly doesn’t want you anymore.

Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

With a frustrated sigh, you push back your chair and stand. You’re not even tipsy, but everything suddenly feels too hot, too suffocating.

“I need water,” you mutter, more to yourself than anyone else, and head for the bar before you do something stupid.

Mingyu appeared at your side, leaning against the bar like he had all the time in the world.

"All good?"

You forced a smile, gripping the cool glass of water like it could ground you. "Yeah. Just needed something cold."

"Glad you came," he said, smirking slightly as he looked down at you.

He’s the one you should want, the one who actually wants you.

Your gaze flickered to his lips. A bad idea waiting to happen.

Mingyu caught the hesitation, eyes darkening as he glanced between your lips and your eyes. You barely had time to register what was happening before your hands found his shoulders, his lips pressing against yours.

The guys erupted in cheers, their drunken approval ringing out across the bar.

And after that, a blur of stolen kisses, too much soju, and voices too loud to ignore.

The night air was crisp against your flushed skin as you and Hyunjin walked back toward campus. The distant hum of the city buzzed in your ears, the alcohol still warm in your veins, though the high of the night had started to fade. Your heels clicked against the pavement, and Hyunjin, ever the gentleman, walked just a step closer in case you stumbled.

“You good?” he asked, nudging you lightly with his elbow.

You hummed a response, not trusting yourself to say anything else. Your mind was a tangled mess of soju, Mingyu’s lips, and something deeper—something you weren’t ready to admit.

Hyunjin let the silence settle for a moment before he spoke again. “If I ask you something, will you be honest with me?”

You sighed, already bracing yourself. Here it comes. “If it’s about Mingyu, I—”

“It’s not.” he cut you off, tone softer than before. “It’s about Bangchan.”

Your stomach twisted.

You stopped walking, your breath caught somewhere between your lungs and your throat. Your hands fidgeted, grasping for something—anything—to ground you. “Why would you ask that?” you muttered, trying to play it off, but even you could hear the slight tremble in your voice.

Hyunjin tilted his head, studying you. “I figured it all out.”

A sharp inhale stung your chest, and before you could even think of a response, it hit you. The overwhelming, suffocating weight of everything you’d been trying to bury. The frustration, the confusion, the way he made you feel like you were something and nothing all at once.

“Oh, shit,” Hyunjin muttered, eyes widening as the tears spilled over. “Come here.”

He pulled you into his chest, letting you press your face into his shoulder. You clung to his jacket, shaking as silent sobs wracked through you. Half-drunk, half-heartbroken, you let yourself break in the only safe place you had at that moment—Hyunjin’s arms.

“I don’t— I don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” you mumbled against the fabric of his hoodie, voice barely above a whisper.

Hyunjin sighed, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”

But it wasn’t okay. None of it was.

After a few minutes, he gently pulled away and wordlessly handed you a bottle of water he’d bought from a vending machine nearby. You took it with shaky hands, gulping down the cool liquid as if it could wash away the lump in your throat.

As you wiped your eyes, Hyunjin leaned against the streetlamp, watching you carefully. “Talk to me. What’s going on with you and Bangchan?”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “I wish I knew.”

He raised an eyebrow, waiting.

With a deep, shaky breath, you finally let it spill. “It started as something casual. No expectations.” your fingers tightened around the water bottle. “But then he started pulling away. And I don’t know if it’s because he got bored, or if I did something wrong, or if this was always the plan. I don’t even know if I want more, but the fact that I’m this messed up over it?” you scoffed, blinking back fresh tears. “That has to mean something, right?”

Hyunjin exhaled, his gaze thoughtful. “Damn.”

You let out a wet laugh. “That’s all you got?”

“I mean, what do you want me to say? That doesn’t sound casual to me.”

Your stomach twisted. You knew that. You knew that. But hearing it out loud made it real in a way you weren’t ready for.

You swallowed hard, voice small. “I got myself into this mess. I was the one who asked him to keep it a secret.”

Hyunjin frowned, his posture shifting. “Why?”

“Because I was scared,” you admitted, the words raw in your throat. “Scared of what people would say. Scared of the judgment. You know how it is—girls get torn apart for way less. And I worked too hard, cared too much to be reduced to just that girl who’s hooking up with Bangchan.” you laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “And now? Now I don’t even know how to deal with it. Because I was supposed to hate him, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin was quiet for a moment, his usual teasing gone. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight. But you also don’t have to go through this alone.”

Your throat tightened. “I feel like an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.” he bumped his shoulder against yours. “You’re just in deep.”

You exhaled shakily, leaning into his warmth as you both started walking again.

“Look, I don’t have the answers. But I do know you’re not crazy for feeling this way.” he squeezed your shoulder. “And if he’s too much of an idiot to see what he has, then maybe you should let him be the one losing sleep over it.”

You sniffled, managing a weak smile. “You’re my soulmate, Hyun.”

“Damn right I am,” he said, flashing you a grin. “Now drink your water before you pass out, drama queen.”

You laughed—actually laughed—and for the first time that night, the weight on your chest felt just a little bit lighter.

The day had finally arrived. Showtime. No matter how many times you’d done this, stepping on stage always felt like a first-time, heart-in-your-throat kind of thing.

Up in the audience, Seungmin, Hyunjin, and Sohee were posted a few rows above Mrs. Baek, waiting for you to do your thing. No pressure.

Backstage was quiet—eerily so. You sat there, taking slow, deep breaths, wiping your sweaty palms against your thighs like a seasoned pro in pre-show anxiety management. You were next. Three minutes. One shot. No room for mediocrity.

You’d chosen a song that wasn’t just sentimental—it was a statement. A vocal rollercoaster that climbed from deep, rich lows to a falsetto so clean it could cut glass. If you were going to go down, at least you’d do it swinging.

Reaching into your bag for your water bottle, you were mid-sip when movement in the distance caught your attention.

And just like that, reality glitched. Bangchan.

It was almost ridiculous how unreal he looked, like a mirage conjured from some fever dream. You hadn’t seen him in days, and yet here he was, strolling in like he hadn’t been living rent-free in your mind this whole damn time.

Laptop in hand, fingers flying across the keyboard, looking every bit the sound tech genius he was. You hadn’t expected him to actually show up for this gig, but—oh, look—there he was, punching buttons like he was defusing a bomb.

Then, he saw you. And something shifted.

His fingers stilled, tightening around the laptop.

The air was heavy. The tension was palpable. Whatever was going on between you two didn’t need words—it was written in every sharp breath, every stolen glance.

And just like that, your pre-show jitters had a new contender.

"Hi," you muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

Bangchan gave you a small, polite smile—too polite. Something about it felt off. The usual spark in his eyes? Gone. And that was all it took for reality to sink in.

So that’s it, huh?

The game was over. You had your answer. He was done, and honestly? You couldn’t even be mad—because weren’t you just as much to blame?

Mrs. Baek’s voice cut through the buzzing in your head, thanking the student who had just finished performing. You’re next.

You turned away from Bangchan, unscrewed your water bottle, and took a long sip, willing yourself to focus. Breathe. Lock in. You’ve got this.

Then it happened. A warm touch on your waist—his touch.

Your body betrayed you instantly, heat rippling through your skin like a live wire. It had been days, and yet, all it took was this—a single touch—to remind you how much you’d missed him.

You spun around, frowning, swallowing hard as your gaze locked onto his.

Bangchan didn’t back down. If anything, he doubled down.

His arm lifted, caging you in the small space between you and the backstage wall, pulling your bodies so close it was downright insane. His head tilted slightly, studying you, reading every little reaction like he already knew the ending to this story.

Without warning, Bangchan crashed his lips onto yours, his free hand gripping your waist like he had no plans of letting go. His palm slid up your back, fingers teasing under the hem of your shirt, branding heat into your skin.

You barely had time to process before his tongue was in your mouth, claiming, demanding—like he was making up for every second of distance between you.

A sound slipped past your lips—a mix between a sigh and a moan, involuntary, unstoppable.

God, you hated how easily he unraveled you. And worse? You loved it too.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his sweatshirt, yanking him closer—like you needed him just a little closer, just a little longer. Your lips moved in sync, deepening the moment, drowning out everything else.

Then—

Mrs. Baek’s voice rang through the backstage, shouting your name.

Then reality crashed back in.

But instead of nerves clawing at your stomach, instead of the suffocating pressure you’d felt moments ago, there was something lighter—something electric. Like a field of wildflowers blooming where anxiety used to sit.

You pulled back, panting, heart racing, but this time? You were smiling. Bangchan, just as breathless, leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"Break a leg," he murmured.

And just like that, you knew you would.

♡ taglist ― @kenia4 @chrizrizz @meerabmalik @gnabnahcsworld @gncbnahc @jinniejjam @skzworldx @itsacatastrophe-xo @soonie1010 @4ng3l-ch1ld @justwonder113 @tsunderelino @eastjonowhere @lyracarvahall @akindaflora @victoriaaf @ebnabi @wickedbutlovely

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howlingday · 2 months ago

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Jaune's Funeral

Saphron: (Lifeless, Sitting quietly)

Jaune: (Ghost, Floating by) Whoa... Looks like everybody from Beacon is here! And they're all laughing at me! Probably just doing this to look good!.

Ren: Easy, Pyrrha... Take it easy...

Pyrrha: Jaune... JAUNE~! (Sobs)

Jaune: Is she... really that upset?.

Russel: Cardin, calm down!

Cardin: SHUT THE HELL UP AND LET GO OF ME!

Jaune: What the- Cardin?!.

Cardin: DAMN YOU, ARC! YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST GIVE UP 'CAUSE YOU'RE SCARED OF ME?!

Dove: Cardin, c'mon! People are mourning here!

Cardin: I'm not leaving! Not until he comes out here and fights me like a man!

Lark: He can't do that 'cause he's-

Cardin: WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, ARC, I'M GONNA MAKE YOU WISH YOU NEVER MET ME! YOU HEAR ME?! (Tears well) Who do you think you are, huh?! Friggin' punk! Who'm I gonna fight now, huh?! WHO'M I GONNA FIGHT?!

Dove: He's gone, Cardin! He's gone!

Cardin: RAAAAAAAAGH! (Punches picture) Y- You're supposed to be here! F- For me... (Weeping)

Russel: C'mon, boss... Let's go...

Cardin: (Dragged out, Sobbing)

Lark: S- Sorry about all that...

Cardin: NOOOOO! (Chokes) NOOOOOOOO!

Jaune: I... never would've seen that coming...

Emerald: You see that?

Mercury: Ah, who cares? Only downside to all of this was that those idiots didn't get killed, too.

Cinder: I'd watch what you say, you two. The last thing we want is people looking at us as their enemies.

Mercury: Oh, please, I know exactly the kind of guy he was; he's the dumb starry-eyed kid who thought he'd make a difference by throwing his life away to save some kid he never met... just to look good in front of whatever girl was watching him.

Cinder: Well, I'm certainly not going to argue that.

Jaune: Those... jerks! It's my funeral and they're just here to make fun of me?! If I could get my hands on them, I'd- (Reaches out)

Goodwitch: (Grabs Mercury and Cinder) Honestly, I was upset by Mr. Winchester's emotional outburst, but everything you two just said has pushed me into a violent temper.

Jaune: Professor Goodwitch...?.

Goodwitch: (Passes, Walks up to Saphron) My condolences for the loss of your brother. Please allow me to say a few kind words.

Saphron: ...

Goodwitch: (Approaches Jaune's picture, Sighs) I can't help but feel responsible, Jaune. Your heart was kinder than anyone else's, but my inability to prepare you for the world has led you to make the ultimate sacrifice before you could even think of graduating. You... It may be impolite to speak ill of you, but I am nothing if not honest. (Shaking) You were my weakest student, which only makes it all the more frustrating to never see you become the strong huntsman you could have become! If only I had just believed in you more!

Saphron: ...Jau...ne... (Breaks down)

Jaune: ...

Terra: Over here, Adrian.

Adrian: (Toddles next to her)

Terra: (Sets Adrian down, Prays)

Adrian: (Looks to her, Prays)

Terra: ...Do you understand what's going on? What all of these people are doing here? (Picks him up) He saved your life, and all these people are grateful to him for it. He was a kind man to have so many friends, and I want you to be like him and become a kind man yourself. (Approaches Saphron) Thank you for inviting us.

Terra: (Walking home with Adrian in her arms) There will be people who make you angry. There will be people who make you sad. But the people who you make happy will be the ones who will show you just how much your life is worth. And I want you to be the one who makes everyone around him happier than you could possibly be. (Hugs)

Pyrrha: (Sobbing)

Cardin: (Screaming)

Goodwitch: (Shaking)

Jaune: (Floating above, Watching them all)

#rwby #yu yu hakusho #jaune arc #cardin winchester #saphron cotta arc #glynda goodwitch #cinder fall #pyrrha nikos #lie ren #russel thrush #dove bronzewing #sky lark #terra cotta arc #adrian cotta arc #mercury black #emerald sustrai

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago

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Can't Have One Without the Other 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, marital troubles, body insecurity, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Summary: your marriage is on the rocks.

Note: I asked about husbands and all your hoes said Bucky (with a few Sy’s in the middle). I wasn’t intending on a whole series but I thnk it would be fun to have husband!Bucky turn a bit desperate.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

After you clean up the mess, you stay in your office. Bucky is stubborn. He's not going to run away. No, you hear him searching the house for what doesn't exist.

You finish the panels. You don't feel accomplished. You shut off your tablet but linger at your desk. You find some courage and get up.

You go into the kitchen quietly and do your best not to make noise. It doesn't matter, you know he can hear you. You take out the steak and rub some spice into it. It's easier than the marinade.

You set to quartering potatoes for a max, the starch sticking to your skin. You rinse off and check the green beans. They'll do.

"Is that your apology?" Bucky asks.

You dump the potatoes from the cutting board to the boiling water. You set the board down and face him. You frown.

"You really believe it?" You murmur.

"I don't know what to believe," he tilts his head, leaning on the door frame, a hand on his hip.

Your cheek twitches and you touch it, stilling the nervous tic. You repeal your hand and hide it behind you.

"I didn't. I know you know I'm telling the truth. You can hear it."

He narrows his eyes, "maybe you didn't follow through, but you know, going out, flirting, it's all the same--"

"I wasn't flirting," you insist. "I'm not that type. Bucky," you set your feet. "Shouldn't I be mad you ignored my calls?"

"While I'm out there fighting off the bad guys? I can't always get to the phone," he struts across the kitchen.

"You could text me between all that," you insist.

"Got a lot on my mind when I'm out there. Now I'm gonna be worried about you and the bike jockey--"

"Really?" You grimace.

"I married you for a reason, didn't I? Why wouldn't another guy try it? Seeing you without your ring on..."

"I told you, I forgot."

"Yeah, forgot about me," he accuses.

You shake your head. You show your palms in exasperation and turn away. There's nothing you can say, nothing but what he wants to hear.

"I'm sorry about the rings. I really am. It wasn't on purpose but I'm sorry. And I'm sorry I didn't kiss you, I'm sorry I'm out of it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm... sorry I'm not good enough," You drop your arms and shrug. "I'm sorry I'm not patient or strong."

You turn your back to him and grab a wooden spoon to stir the potatoes. He sighs. It blows over you like a winter draft.

"I never said any of that--"

"You accused me of cheating," you tense. "You thought all of it."

"Christ, I'm trying to talk to you."

"Then say it, Bucky. Say what you want from me because I can't read your mind," you put the spoon down and grab the waiting skillet. "I haven't talked to you in over a month and I'm supposed to just act like nothing. I'm supposed to be okay." You slam the pan down, "I'm not okay."

"Baby--"

"Don't baby, me," you warn as you move down the counter to toss the beans in seasoning.

He nears and you go rigid. You ignore him as he gets close. He stretches his arm past you and grips the counter. He pushes himself against your back.

He nuzzles the back of your head, "I missed you. I really did. Can you blame me for getting... jealous? I got the greatest gal in the world waiting for me and I come back to see her with another guy--"

"I wasn't with him," you drone.

"Please, I'm sorry," he coaxes as his breath puffs over your scalp.

You inhale and stare at the wall, "for what?"

"For... for hurting you."

"How?" You rasp. "Tell me how you hurt me."

"Why are you doing this? I'm apologising," he clucks.

You frown, "alright, Bucky. I gotta finish up here."

He's quiet. He drags his hands off the counter and grips your hips. You wince and stop him, wavering on your feet.

"It's just nice to touch you," he growls.

"Bucky," you cringe as he kneads the extra flesh.

"You feel so good," he pushes against your ass.

"I can't. The potatoes," you shove his wrists.

"Let them burn," he slithers.

There's something there. That flicker inside. The one that wants him. It's dulled by the thought of him seeing you. The reality of what you've become. The idea of him seeing all of you makes you sick.

"That's..." you touch his hand. "Let me," you face him and force a smile. "Alright?"

"Baby, I wanna--"

"Shhh," you press a finger to his lips. His eyes flash. How can he look at you like that? Like you're not repulsive.

Because it's been a month. Because he's desperate. It's not you he wants, he just needs relief.

You slip your hand to his chest, your other along his pants. You taste pile as you unzip him. He shivers. You push your hand down his boxers and grip him. He squeezes your hip and grabs your head. He pulls you closer and presses his lips to your forehead.

He puffs as you stroke him. You stare at the top of his chest.

It doesn't take long. He quakes and grunts, and spills inside his pants. It spears onto your fingers and palm.

You pull your hand free as he cups your chin. He brings your head up and kisses you on the lips. You move your mouth with his, mimicking him, and he hums.

He parts and smiles. He pets your cheek and clears his throat as he backs away. You quickly turn away, your hand growing sticky.

"So, I'll finish dinner..." you say as you wash him off.

"I'm more concerned with dessert," he chuckles.

You wonder if he can hear your disgust. Not with him, but yourself. Can he sense your apathy even? Does he care? Why should he? He always gets what he wants.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #can't have one without the other #mcu #marvel #drabble #captain america #winter soldier #avengers

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psychomentillidie · 4 months ago

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Dress

Part 1 🐍 Part 2

Pairing: virgin!tom riddle x fem!reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: english isn’t my first language, heavy sexual contact, p in v, fingering, teasing, unprotected sex, subby!tom, experienced!reader.

Summery: after a little talk with his brother, Tom decides to ask his best friend to take his virginity.

“𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟”

"Are you going to the Slytherin party tonight?" Mattheo asked the second he walked into Tom's dorm room. It was a pretty stupid question, considering the fact that Tom had never been to a Hogwarts party, not even once in the seven years he'd been there.

"Yeah, y/n asked me to come this time. She said it's important to 'have fun' since it's our last year here."

That answer genuinely shocked Mattheo. It was almost unbelievable how much influence y/n had over his brother.

"Wait, are you serious? I can't believe the Tom Riddle is actually going to a party. I'm going to make sure it's the best fucking party in Hogwarts history," he said excitedly. "I'll get alcohol for everyone and—oh, I know! I'll steal veritaserum from Snape so we can play truth or dare. It's going to be bloody awesome."

Tom was still trying to understand what was so "bloody awesome" about a bunch of teenagers drinking and playing games. He was dreading going, but y/n had begged him to come, and for some reason, he just couldn't say no to her. Which was odd, considering he never had trouble saying no to anyone else.

"What's so exciting about truth or dare? It's a stupid game," Tom rolled his eyes.

Mattheo gave him a look like he'd just said the dumbest thing in the world. "What's so exciting about truth or dare?! Mate, it's the best part! That's when all the tea gets spilled. Last time we played, it came out that Pansy had sex with Adrian's girlfriend, and Adrian's actually a virgin! Truth or dare is elite when everyone drinks veritaserum before answering because then no one can lie."

"I just don't get why anyone would want to admit what they've done or what they haven't."

Tom had never really thought much about sex. He didn't see the point. Why would anyone want to be that vulnerable with someone else? He didn't care for any of the girls at Hogwarts, even though he knew he could easily have a different one in his bed every night if he wanted. But he didn't want to. He just... wasn't interested.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, bro. People just want to know how many girls you've shagged. You've got nothing to be ashamed of. It's not like you're a virgin," Mattheo said with a teasing laugh.

The room suddenly went silent when Tom didn't laugh back. Mattheo stared at him.

"You're a virgin?!"

"Yes. What's the problem with that?"

"There's no problem actually," Mattheo said, holding back a grin. "You just absolutely cannot let the whole school know."

If Tom thought teenagers were stupid before, now he thought they were extra stupid. But the longer he thought about it, the more that small knot of embarrassment twisted in his chest.

"Okay, then I just won't play," Tom said, shrugging. Problem solved, or so he thought.

"Absolutely not, my guy. If you don't play, people will assume something even worse. Like that you're into getting pegged or something."

Tom groaned in frustration, running a hand through his hair. "Then what the hell am I supposed to do?"

Mattheo leaned back with a smug grin. "Easy. Go to y/n's dorm and ask her to have sex with you."

Tom blinked. "What?!"

"Oh come on, you know you've been dying to sleep with her. And don't even try to deny it. I heard you last night, jerking off and moaning her name in the bathroom."

"What the fuck?! Why were you in my dorm last night?"

It was rare to see Tom Riddle blush, but this time, his entire face was red as a tomato.

"Let's not change the subject, alright?" Mattheo said, smirking. "Just go to her dorm and tell her you want to have sex, as simple as that. You know she'll want to. I'm shocked you guys haven't done it together before, considering all that tension that's always around you two whenever you're together."

"Fine. I'll think about it. Now get out, and don't ever come into my room late at night again without announcing yourself first."

The second the door closed behind Mattheo, silence settled over the dorm like a fog. Tom sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, staring blankly at the floor.

"Just go to Y/N's dorm and ask her to have sex with you."

Mattheo's words echoed in his mind like a challenge.

It sounded ridiculous. Crude, even. But was it? He clenched his jaw, hands tightening.

It wasn't about the sex. Not really.

It was about her.

Y/N.

The way she laughed like she knew things he didn't. The way she touched him so casually and yet left him breathless. The way she saw through his every mask, every carefully calculated expression, and looked at him.

The real him.

He'd trusted her with everything else; his secrets, his temper, his walls.

Could he trust her with this, too?

The idea of losing control in front of anyone else made his stomach twist. But with her... the thought didn't terrify him. It thrilled him. It made his skin feel too tight and his thoughts feel too loud.

Was it foolish to want more? Was it dangerous?

Maybe. But wasn't it more dangerous to want her and never touch her?

He swallowed hard. Could he ask her? Should he? And if he did... would she say yes?

Would she want him like that? And if she did, would she still see him the same way after?

He wasn't sure. But he knew one thing with absolute certainty;

He didn't want anyone else.

And maybe it was time he finally stopped making excuses for himself and actually tried being intimate with her. Not for the game or the people around him, for his own cravings and wishes.

That was the moment Tom realised, he's ready to lose his virginity to his person, the only person in the world he wasn't scared to be himself around.

It was currently 8:32 p.m. 28 minutes before the Slytherin party was set to begin. You were in your dorm, getting ready alone. Your annoyingly loud roommates had gone to their friend's room to do their makeup together.

You were in the middle of putting on your short, dark blue dress, struggling to zip it up, when you heard a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" you called out, still fiddling with the zipper.

"It's Tom."

You smiled. "Oh, it's you. Come in, Tommy."

He opened the door and stepped inside, standing stiffly like a statue as his eyes scanned you, but he said nothing.

"Well don't you look really handsome, Mr. Riddle," you said, your tone teasing. The flirtation in your friendship was always there, but you weren't lying, he really did look good tonight.

You turned around. "Could you help me zip my dress? I can't reach it."

"No," he said flatly.

You turned back around to face him, confused. "What do you mean no?"

"I'd rather take that dress off than zip it up."

Your eyes widened, a mix of surprise and amusement dancing across your face. A smirk crept in as you looked at him. You almost lost the hope that Tom Riddle will take this friendship he had with you to the next level.

It has been obvious there's something not platonic in the slightest going on between the two of you, but it took Tom years to accept it. Who would have guessed tonight would be the night Tom actually took action and fucked you.

"Oh yeah?" you asked, voice dropping into something lower, silkier.

"Yeah," he said, stepping closer, closing the space between you. You were almost touching now, his proximity making your heart race, but he looked surprisingly calm. Little did you know his insides have been burning with anxiety.

"What are you waiting for, then?" you whispered. "Fucking take it off."

That was all he needed to hear.

He moved forward like he was under a spell. His hands found the zipper and tugged it down slowly, reverently, as if undressing you was a sacred act. The dress slipped from your shoulders and pooled at your feet. You stood before him in only your underwear and bra, entirely unbothered by his stare.

You stepped close and tangled your fingers into his collar, tugging him into a kiss that made his knees weak.

He kissed back like he'd been waiting his entire life for this, like he was afraid it would end too soon. It was messy and eager, his hands trembling as they explored the soft curve of your waist, your back, your breasts.

You pushed him down onto the bed with a gentle shove, straddling him and rolling your hips slowly against his lap. He let out a shaky breath, fingers digging into your thighs like he didn't know what else to hold onto.

"Y/N," he whispered, almost like a warning. "I've never—"

"I know," you purred, grinding on him again. "You're doing so good already, darling."

His eyes fluttered shut as you kissed down his neck, tongue teasing his skin, marking him. You could feel how hard he was already, twitching beneath his trousers. He looked dazed, breathless, wrecked, and you hadn't even taken his clothes off yet.

You climbed off him just long enough to strip him down, also taking down your remaining undergarments, taking your time as you tugged at his belt, his shirt, finally his trousers and briefs, until he was bare beneath you. His cock was flushed and hard, resting against his stomach.

You let your eyes drag down his body, slow and deliberate. "Fuck, you're so pretty, Tom."

He blushed at the compliment, but the way his cock twitched made it obvious how much he liked it.

"Lie back," you whispered.

He obeyed instantly. Tom wasn't one to obey orders from anyone. But with you, it was a different story.

You crawled over him, settling between his legs and kissing a path up his inner thigh, ignoring his whimpers as you teased him everywhere but where he wanted.

"Y/N," he groaned. "Please, please, I need—"

You pressed your fingers to his lips. "Shh. I'm going to take care of you."

You kissed him deeply, slowly grinding your bare hips against his, letting him feel how wet you already were.

You guided his hand between your thighs. "Feel that? That's all for you."

He swallowed hard, fingers exploring tentatively.

You smiled. "Let me show you."

You moved his hand where you wanted it—two fingers brushing your clit, stroking slowly. He watched you in awe as you moaned from his touch, your hips rocking against his hand.

"Curl your fingers inside me," you whispered. "There. Right there. Fuck Tommy, you're a natural."

His confidence grew as you moaned his name, his fingers moving faster, slick with your arousal. The way he looked at you—like you were something holy, made heat coil in your stomach.

You stopped him just before you tipped over the edge.

"I need you inside me," you whispered against his mouth. "Do you want that?”

His answer was immediate. "Yes. Please. I want—I need you so bad, Y/N."

You reached down and lined him up with your entrance, teasing him by dragging the tip through your folds before sinking down slowly.

His head fell back, mouth open in a silent moan as you took him inch by inch.

"Fucking hell," he gasped. "You feel—fuck Y/N."

You rode him slowly at first, letting him adjust, watching his reactions. Every time you shifted your hips, he twitched helplessly inside you, moaning your name like a prayer.

You leaned down to kiss him softly. "You okay, baby?"

He nodded frantically. "Yes. I'm okay. Don't stop. Please don't stop."

You smiled against his lips. "I wasn't planning to."

You picked up the pace, grinding your hips harder, riding him like you were claiming him. His hands gripped your waist tightly, his head rolling back as he struggled to hold on.

"Y/N—fuck—I'm not gonna last—I can't—"

"Come for me, baby," you whispered, dragging your nails down his chest. "Let me feel you."

That was all it took. He cried out as he spilled inside you, cock twitching, breath ragged. You kept moving, chasing your own high, and just as his orgasm was fading, you came with a moan of his name, collapsing forward onto his chest.

You both stayed there, sweaty and breathless, your fingers stroking through his hair as his arms wrapped tightly around you.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

Then finally, you whispered, "So... how was that for your first time?"

He let out a breathless laugh, still catching his breath. "I think you just ruined me for anyone else."

You grinned against his chest. "Good. That was the plan."

He kissed your hair, and his voice softened. "Thank you."

You looked up at him. "For what?"

"For not treating me like I'm fragile. For not making me feel ashamed for being so vulnerable. For..." he hesitated, then said softly, "for being you."

Your teasing smile faded into something warmer, more intimate. You cupped his face and kissed him slow and sweet. "You're mine now, Riddle."

He nodded. "I've always been".

Part 2 is out<3

#virgin!tomriddle #sub!tomriddle #tomriddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #harry potter #fanfic #smut #fem!reader #hogwarts fanfiction #ralph fiennes #imagine #oneshot #tom marvolo riddle #fanfiction

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itneverendshere · 10 months ago

Note

hi again! so I've been meaning to send a request, but before i go about it I wish to say it's completely okay if you're not inspired by this, or if you simply don't want to write it, i would hate myself if I made you overwhelmed or smth. love you anyways 💕 so for the request: reader who's autistic. she's not very talkative nor socially active, never had a boyfriend, has one or two friends, yet somehow rafe notices her and finds her endearing. she's okay being herself with her friends, like she's funny, kind and passionate about her interests (like geek stuff, fantasy books, animals and such). she has zero flirting experience and is always dismissive towards rafe bc she doesn't think someone could like her romantically, and she's always suspicious of people bc they've wronged her in the past (in my experience as an autistic person i tend to believe everything ppl say and am kinda naive, so ppl played me or said unrealistic things and I believed them, which then is a reason for laughter, now I'm always suspicious to ppl's intentions). I'm giving you creative freedom with this, just wanted an autistic reader for once :) if you feel like writing it but need to know more abt autism, you can just post question and I'll answer in your asks, if that's okay. Just a reminder again before I go: feel free to decline this request, I know it might not be something cool to write and that's okay ☺️ love you lots, thank you for your time!

i tried my best, hope you like it 🫶🏼 and if you don't lmk so i can do better!! this was really fun since it's a compeltely new topic of inspiration. kinda left an "open" ending bc i couldn't make my mind up lmao. thank you for the resquest and sorry it took me a while to finally do it 🫂

got dreams but i can't make myself believe them - r.c

paring: rafe x autistic!reader word count: 6.9k

The party was a mistake.

You knew it the moment you walked in, the terrible music and crush of people making your skin crawl. Your friends had been relentless, insisting that you needed to “get out more” and “live a little,” despite your repeated attempts to explain that “getting out” meant something different to you.

You’d caved eventually, and now you were standing awkwardly in the corner of a stranger’s living room, clutching your book like it was a life vest. You needed to stop letting them drag you everywhere.

It was the typical college party scene, at least the one's you'd heard or read about before. Red solo cups everywhere, groups of people huddled on couches or pressed together on the so called dance floor, and a few already-drunk guys yelling loudly in the kitchen.

This was supposed to be fun?

“Just stay for an hour,” they said. “If it’s really that bad, you can leave.”

Right.

Except an hour felt like an eternity when you were trapped in a sensory nightmare. You took a deep breath, scanning the crowded room, the noise was a constant, overwhelming buzz in your ears.

This was definitely a mistake.

You did what you always did best in these situations: found a quiet place to hide.

After walking through the drunk college students, you ended up on hidden nook near the back of the house. It was a small room, probably some sort of den or study, but blessedly, it was empty.

With a sigh of relief, you settled into an oversized armchair, opened your book, and let the world outside your pages melt away.

Time slipped by as you read, the overwhelming noise changing into a distant hum. You were so engrossed that you didn’t notice when someone stumbled into the room until a loud crash jolted you out of your fictional word.

He nearly tripped over his own feet, catching himself at the last second with a slurred, “Shit.”

You looked up to find a guy standing unsteadily in the doorway, blinking blearily at you. He was tall, with tousled dark blonde hair and a loose grin that spoke of far too many drinks. His eyes were a striking blue even in the low light, and it took you a second to place him.

Rafe Cameron.

You knew him—well, of him, at least.

He was in your sociology class, always sitting a few rows behind you with his gaggle of equally charming friends. He’d never spoken to you before, though, and you’d never had a reason to pay him much attention.

Rafe's face split into a lazy grin, and he swaggered—no, stumbled—into the room, managing to make even that look effortless.

“Heyyy,” he drawled, leaning heavily against the arm of the chair across from you. “It’s… it’s you.”

You blinked at him. “Me?”

“Yeah,” he slurred, squinting like he was trying to see you clearly. “T-The girl from my class. The quiet one.”

Your stomach did a weird flip, part confusion, part disbelief.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded sagely, as if you’d just confirmed some great truth. “You’re the uh, the smart one. With the books.” He gestured vaguely at the one in your hands. “Always sittin’ up front, all… all cute n'shit.”

Your cheeks burned. Was he calling you cute? No. He was drunk—really drunk. He probably didn’t know what he was saying.

“Do you need help?” you asked cautiously. “You look—”

“I’m fine,” he cut you off, straightening up as if to prove it, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the way he swayed on his feet. “Needed to get away from those fucking idiots out there. Too many people.”

You almost laughed.

Rafe Cameron, overwhelmed by people? The guy who was always surrounded by friends, girls draped over him like accessories? But he looked sincere—well, as sincere as a drunk person could look.

“Why don’t you sit down?” you suggested, gesturing to the empty chair. “You, um, might fall over if you don’t.”

“Pfft, I’m not gonna—” He paused mid-sentence, wobbling precariously. Then, as if he’d just made the smartest decision of his life, he plopped down in the chair, sprawling out. “See? Told ya m'fine,” he said, flashing you a lopsided grin.

You couldn’t help but snort.

“Right.”

He looked at you then, his gaze roaming over your face.

“What’re you doin’ here?” he asked abruptly.

You glanced at your book, then back at him. "Reading?”

“No, I mean… here,” he insisted, gesturing vaguely around the room. “At this shitty party.”

You shrugged, feeling awkward.

“My friends dragged me. I didn’t really want to come.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and he looked almost sober.

“Yeah, same.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He smirked, a flash of the cocky, arrogant guy you’d seen in class.

“Yeah, well… they’re fucking assholes, but they’re my assholes, y'know?”

You didn’t, but you nodded anyway. “Sure.”

“So, what’s that book about?”

You hesitated. “Um… it’s a fantasy novel.”

“Fantasy, huh?” He tilted his head, eyeing the cover. “Like wizards and dragons n'shit?”

“Sort of,” you admitted. “It’s about a girl who finds out she has magic and goes on a quest to—”

“Save the world?” he finished with a mock-solemn expression.

“...Yeah,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “But it’s more complicated than that.”

“Bet it is,” he murmured, his gaze still fixed on you. “You’re really into that stuff, huh?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. Why?”

He shrugged, his smirk softening into something that looked like genuine interest. “You looked happy, talkin’ about it.”

Your heart did another weird little flip, and you frowned, pushing the feeling down. He was drunk, this didn’t mean anything. He wouldn’t remember it in the morning.

Rafe's eyes drifted shut, his head lolling back against the chair and within seconds, he was snoring.

You sat there, stunned.

What the hell had just happened?

Three days later, you were sitting in your usual spot in the lecture hall, flipping through your notes. Class was about to start, and the room was filling up with the usual pre-lecture chatter.

You were getting settled when someone slid into the seat beside you.

You glanced up, expecting one of your friends.

It was Rafe.

“Hey, friend,” he greeted casually, like you hadn’t left him passed out at a party a few nights ago.

You stared at him, completely disoriented. “Hi?”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair, acting like this was completely normal.

“Didn’t think I’d forget about you, huh?”

Your eyes narrowed. “I… yeah, actually.”

Rafe’s grin widened, and he leaned in closer, “See, that’s where you’re wrong, princess,” he murmured. “I remember everything.”

Did he just give you a nickname?

Your stomach dropped. “Oh?"

“Yeah.” He crossed his arms, looking entirely too smug. “You, sitting there all cute with your book, talking about magic and shit. Thought I was too drunk to remember, huh?”

“I—” You gawked at him, completely off balance. “Why are you here?”

“Because I want to be,” he said simply. “Got a problem with that?”

You blinked, caught off guard.

“No?”

“Good.” He flashed you a grin, “So, you gonna tell me more about that book, or what?”

You gaped at him. “You actually want to hear about it?”

“Why not?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow. “It made you smile.”

For some very stupid reason, that simple statement knocked the breath out of you.

“Okay,” you said, still unsure if this was some kind of elaborate prank.

Rafe leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world. Weird dude.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I think I’ll stick around.”

The next few classes were…weird, to say the least.

Ever since Rafe decided you were his new "friend," he’d taken to sitting beside you every lecture, plopping down in the empty seat as if he’d been there all along. It was confusing.

Most of the time, he’d breeze in at the last possible minute, sauntering up to your row without so much as a greeting and settling into the chair with that infuriatingly self-assured face. You were already seated, your notebook open and your pen poised to start taking notes when he dropped into the seat beside you with his usual nonchalance.

Rafe stretched his long legs out in front of him, casting you a sidelong look, daring you to acknowledge him first.

“Hi,” you said quietly, eyes flicking back to the front of the room.

“Hey, princess."

You kept your gaze firmly on your notebook. You’d quickly learned that the best way to deal with him was to pretend his presence didn’t affect you—no matter how much his proximity messed with you.

He’d spent the last three classes nudging your foot under the desk, passing snide comments under his breath, or leaning over just close enough to murmur sarcastic observations about whatever the professor was droning on about. And today was no different.

The lecture started, Professor Callahan launching into her usual detailed overview of sociological theory. You tried to focus, pen flying across your notebook as you jotted down her points.

“Is she always this boring?” he whispered, leaning in so his arm brushed against yours.

You stiffened, eyes fixed on your notes. “If you listened, it wouldn’t be so boring.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right. Like I’m gonna waste my time listening to her go on about… what is it today? Class structure?”

“Yes,” you hissed, refusing to look at him. “And if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to—”

“You’re going to what?” he challenged, his grin audible in his voice.

You snapped your mouth shut, ignoring the way his leg brushed against yours under the desk. He was doing it on purpose—nudging your knee every so often, moving a little closer until the faint scent of his cologne surrounded you.

It was infuriating.

When you glanced sideways at him, he was looking at you with that maddening, lazy grin that made your heart stutter.

“Just pay attention,” you mumbled, cheeks warm.

“Why would I do that when I have such a pretty view right here?”

Your head whipped around, eyes wide. “What?”

His eyes moved back to the front of the room as if he hadn’t just made your brain short-circuit.

“Relax, princess. Just messin' with you.”

You swallowed, trying to refocus on the lecture. His attention felt like a physical thing—it made you uneasy.

Determined not to give him the satisfaction, you forced yourself to look at the professor, who was in the middle of explaining something about social hierarchies when she suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

“Mr. Cameron.”

The entire class fell silent.

You looked up, eyes widening in surprise as Professor Callahan fixed Rafe with a stern look.

“I’m aware that I’m not as pretty as your classmate,” she said dryly, gesturing toward you, “but I would appreciate it if you could pay attention for at least ten minutes.”

A ripple of snickers spread through the room, and your cheeks flamed scarlet. Rafe, however, didn’t blink, he was completely unruffled and offered the professor a lazy, arrogant smile.

“Sorry. Just got a little distracted.”

Your stomach dropped. He was staring at you, unabashedly.

The professor raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure.” Her tone was dry, unimpressed. “Would you mind keeping your distractions to yourself until after class?”

Another murmur of laughter swept through the room, and you shrank in your seat, mortified. His smirk widened, but he leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Of course, ma’am,” he drawled. “No more distractions.”

Professor Callahan gave him a pointed look, then turned back to the board, resuming her lecture. You sat there, face burning, refusing to look anywhere near Rafe, but you could feel his eyes on you.

“Guess I got you in trouble, huh?”

You grit your teeth, still staring resolutely at the front of the room. “Stop talking.”

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, his voice teasing. “You’re way more interesting than this shit.”

“Rafe, I swear—”

“Okay, okay, I’ll behave,” he said lightly, sitting back. But he didn’t take his eyes off you. You could feel him lingering, warm and intent, and you wanted to scream.

How was he so calm? So unaffected, like getting called out by the professor was just a minor inconvenience?

You hated every second of it.

“Rafe,” you hissed under your breath, finally daring to glance at him. “Will you just—”

“What?”

“Stop staring.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Can’t promise that."

Your heart hammered, and you squeezed your pen so tightly it nearly snapped. “Why are you even here?”

He shrugged, his expression turning oddly serious. “I like sitting next to you.”

Rafe Cameron—the arrogant, cocky asshole you’d written off as nothing more than a nuisance—had just chosen to stay by your side.

As soon as class ended, you gathered your things in record time, heart still thumping wildly, keeping your head down, hoping to slip away unnoticed.

Maybe if you were quick enough, you could escape before he decided to make good on his new, annoying habit of sticking to you like glue. But, of course, he was nothing if not persistent.

You’d barely slung your bag over your shoulder when he appeared at your side, his tall frame looming over you as he fell into step like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Heading to lunch?” he asked, as if he hadn’t just spent the entire class making you the center of unwanted attention.

“Yes?” You tried not to sound as thrown as you felt.

“Cool. I’m starving.”

He said it like it was an invitation, as if he was entitled to follow you, and before you could muster up a half-hearted protest, he was already steering you through the crowded hallway.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you demanded, glancing around in panic.

People were staring, eyes widening as they took in the sight of Rafe Cameron, of all people, trailing after you. Whispers flitted through the air, disbelieving, and you shrank under the scrutiny, feeling painfully exposed.

“Uh, going to lunch with you?” He made it sound so obvious, his voice lilting with amusement.

“I didn’t invite you!” You glanced at him, trying to tamp down the fluttery, nervous feeling his presence always seemed to stir up. “What if I’m eating with someone else?”

He shrugged. “Then I’ll eat with them too.”

You gawked at him. “What?”

“Relax. It’s just lunch.”

Just lunch. This was completely absurd.

You narrowed your eyes, debating whether to make a break for it, but he was already pulling you toward the main quad, his hand ghosting the small of your back in a way that made your skin tingle.

Your heart hammered as the familiar outdoor seating area came into view. Your friends were already there, sitting at your usual table—a small group of two girls and a guy, all talking animatedly.

Their expressions morphed from curious to shocked when they caught sight of you—and Rafe—heading straight toward them.

“Uh, hey,” you greeted awkwardly as you approached. They just stared, mouths agape.

Emily was the first to recover.

“What the—since when do you two know each other?” she asked, eyes darting between you and Rafe like she was seeing a glitch in the matrix.

“Yeah, what’s going on here?” Max, the guy in your small circle, chimed in, his gaze flicking to Rafe warily. “Is this, like… a project thing?”

“No, it’s not—” you started, but Rafe cut you off with a breezy smile.

“Can’t believe y’all kept her to yourselves this whole time,” he drawled, pulling out the chair beside yours and plopping down like he’d done it a thousand times before. “Thought you’d have the decency to introduce me to the prettiest girl on campus.”

Your friends gaped, eyes wide with shock. You could see their brains short-circuiting.

Meanwhile, you were fighting the urge to smack him upside the head.

“Please shut up,” you muttered under your breath, cheeks burning.

His gaze slid over your stunned friends with lazy amusement. “What?” he said innocently. “It’s true.”

“What the hell is happening right now?” Emily demanded, still staring at you like you’d grown a second head. “You—you and Rafe Cameron?”

You sighed, already regretting every life choice that had led you to this moment. “There is no ‘me and Rafe Cameron.’ He just—he’s being annoying.”

“Annoying?” he repeated, feigning offense. “C’mon. I thought we were past that.”

“We are not past anything,” you snapped, shooting him a glare.

“Okay, back up,” Max interjected, brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you guys even know each other?”

“Uh, sociology class?” you offered weakly, as if that explained anything. “He’s been sitting next to me.”

“Sitting next to you?” Emily repeated slowly, as if she was trying to process a particularly difficult equation. “And now you’re… eating lunch together?”

“It’s not—” You looked helplessly at Rafe, who was watching the exchange with that insufferable smirk. “I didn’t ask him to.”

He looked completely unfazed by the mess he’d caused.

“What can I say? I like the company.”

“Since when?” Emily shot back, clearly unconvinced.

Rafe shrugged, “Since she started talking to me.”

Your friends fell silent, eyes wide and suspicious as they turned to you, searching for answers. But you just sat there, feeling utterly, hopelessly lost. What were you supposed to say? Rafe Cameron had decided, out of nowhere, to insert himself into your life? That he was following you to lunch like this was some sort of normal occurrence?

“Look,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s really not a big deal. He’s just—”

“Rafe Cameron is never ‘just’ anything,” Emily interrupted, folding her arms as she fixed Rafe with a suspicious look. “So what are you up to?"

“Nothing,” Rafe said easily, his smile all sharp edges. “Like I said, I’m just getting to know her.”

“Getting to know her,” Max echoed, skeptical.

“Yeah.” Rafe’s eyes never left yours, his eyes gleaming with something that made your pulse flutter. “What’s so weird about that?”

Your friends exchanged looks. You didn’t blame them. This was weird. More than weird.

You’d never been the kind of girl to attract attention—especially not from someone like Rafe. Popular, arrogant, and completely out of your league in every possible way. Yet, here he was, sitting with you at lunch like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“So,” He said suddenly, turning his attention back to the group, “Are you gonna sit here gaping all day, or are we gonna eat?”

Emily blinked, snapping out of her daze. “Uh, yeah, we’re… we’re eating.”

“Good.” Rafe turned to you, eyebrow raised. “You eating, princess?”

You stared at him, “I—yes?”

“Cool. Want me to grab you something?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re offering to get me lunch?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I am. What do you want?”

“I—” You swallowed, glancing at your friends, who were watching the exchange. “Um, a sandwich?”

“Got it.” Rafe pushed to his feet, “Be right back.”

To your utter disbelief, he sauntered off toward the food line, leaving you and your friends staring after him.

“What,” Max said slowly, “the fuck just happened?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I have no idea.”

The awkward lunch with Rafe didn’t end as badly as you expected.

Your friends had spent the entire time shooting you confused, bewildered looks, while he seemed to thrive under their scrutiny, lounging beside you like he belonged. He didn’t flirt—Thank God—but he didn’t tone down his usual cocky self either.

By the end of it, he’d somehow managed to charm your friends enough to leave them more confused rather than outright hostile. Still, after that lunch, you’d expected him to lose interest, to join his usual crowd and forget all about his bizarre little experiment.

You learned that the hard way two days later.

It was late afternoon, and you were holed up in one of the campus library, buried under a mountain of textbooks and notes for an upcoming exam. It was your sanctuary—blissfully free of distractions.

At least, until Rafe sauntered in.

You didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in your notes, hunched over a particularly dense passage in your sociology textbook when you felt it— glancing up cautiously.

Rafe leaned against the bookshelf a feet away, his eyes fixed on you with an assessing look.

“What are you doing here?” you hissed, glancing around nervously.

No one seemed to be paying attention, but you still felt like the entire room was suddenly staring.

“Studying,” he said, straight-faced.

“Since when do you study in the library?”

“Since now,” He pushed off the bookshelf and strolled over to your table, pulling out the chair across from you, “What? Can’t a guy broaden his horizons?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re joking.”

“Not today.” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand as he peered at your open book. “So, what’re we learning?”

“We are not learning anything,” you muttered, eyes narrowing. “I’m studying. You...I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Keeping you company,” he said simply. “You looked lonely.”

“Lonely?”

“Yeah.” He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over your face. “All holed up in here with your books. Thought I’d help.”

What was he even talking about?

This was insane. He didn’t hang out in the library, especially not to “keep someone company.” He was the kind of guy who spent his free time at parties, or on the field, or wherever people like him thrived.

“Rafe,” you said slowly, “you don’t even know what I’m studying.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does if you’re trying to help,” you shot back, frustration seeping into your voice. “You’re—what are you even—”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, raising his hands in surrender. “Calm down. Just trying to see what’s got you all riled up.”

You bit back a groan, rubbing your temples. You didn’t need—didn’t want—his attention.

“Fine,” you muttered, turning your textbook around so he could see the page. “I’m going over Durkheim’s theory of social integration.”

Rafe leaned in, squinting at the page. “Durkheim?”

“Yes,” you said, a little impatiently. “He believed that society functions through a collective conscience—shared beliefs and values that bind people together.”

“Sounds boring as hell,” Rafe said bluntly.

“It’s not boring,” you retorted before you could stop yourself. “It’s actually really interesting—he argued that a lack of social integration could lead to anomie, a state of normlessness that causes people to feel disconnected and isolated.”

Rafe stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

At least it felt that way to you.

“What?” you demanded, suddenly self-conscious. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shrugged, a thoughtful smile tugging at his lips. “Just… you get really into this stuff, don’t you?”

Your cheeks flushed. “It’s sociology. It’s important.”

“Yeah, but…” He shook his head, “It’s kinda cute.”

You blinked, “Cute?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back, crossing his arms as he regarded you with a casual, easy confidence that made your heart flutter. “You get all intense when you talk about it. You actually care.”

“I—Of course I care,” you stammered, “It’s my major.”

“I know,” he murmured. “I like that about you.”

What—what was that supposed to mean? Why was he looking at you like that? Before you could untangle your thoughts, a shadow fell over the table, and you glanced up to see another student standing there—a tall, lanky guy with dark hair and glasses. He looked vaguely familiar, probably from one of your classes.

“Uh, hey,” the guy said awkwardly, glancing between you and Rafe. “Are—are you using this seat?”

Rafe’s expression changed instantly, “Yeah,” he said flatly. “We are.”

The guy blinked, taken aback. “Oh, uh, sorry, I just—”

“You just can find another table,” Rafe cut in, “We’re a little busy here.”

You gaped at him, mortified. “Rafe, stop.”

He kept staring down at the poor guy, his posture tense and unyielding until, with a muttered apology, the student backed off, scurrying away like he’d just had a close encounter with a predator.

“What's wrong with you?” You scolded as soon as the guy was out of earshot. “He just wanted to sit down!”

“Yeah, and we’re studying,” Rafe said dismissively. “No room for distractions.”

“We’re not studying anything!” you shot back, resisting the urge to smack him. “You’re sitting here, being—being weird.”

“Not weird,” he corrected, leaning in again. “Protective.”

You froze, “Protective?”

“Yeah.” His eyes locking onto yours. “Can’t have just anyone bothering you, can I?”

After the bizarre encounter in the library, you were convinced Rafe would drop this whole… whatever it was. For sure.

Surely, following you to lunch and then “protecting” you in the library was enough.

But when you found yourself at another party two nights later—dragged along by Emily despite your vehement protests—you knew it was only a matter of time before he found you. Somehow, no matter where you went, Rafe had made it his mission to seek you out.

“C'mooon, you need to have some fun,” Emily had insisted, half-pulling, half-dragging you through the front door of one of the fraternity houses on campus.

The music was already blaring, people were packed in the main room.

“This isn’t my idea of fun,” you muttered, hugging your arms around yourself as you tried to avoid brushing against the partygoers. It wasn’t that you disliked parties, exactly—it was just that the noise, the sheer volume of people could get overwhelming quickly.

“Just stay for an hour,” Emily pleaded. “Please? I swear it’ll be more fun than you think. We can dance, have a few drinks—”

“I don’t dance,” you cut in flatly, giving her a pointed look.

“Okay, fine, I’ll dance, and you… can hang out and people-watch,” she amended, undeterred. “Besides, who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone.”

You gave her a withering stare.

“Yeah, because I’m such a social butterfly.”

You sighed, resigned to your fate, and began making your way through the press of bodies. You managed to find a relatively quiet corner in the back, near the stairs, and gratefully leaned against the wall.

Perhaps if you stayed out of sight long enough, Emily would give up on trying to get you to socialize and let you leave early. It was a long shot, but you could hope.

You hadn’t been there long when you felt it—the familiar prickling sensation of someone’s gaze lingering on you.

Rafe, in all his infuriating glory, leaning against the wall a few feet away. He looked unfairly good, dressed in a dark button-up that clung to his frame in all the right ways, his hair tousled enough to look effortlessly cool. And, as usual, he was watching you.

You narrowed your eyes at him, your stomach twisting in irritation and something else.

“Are you stalking me now?” you demanded, crossing your arms as you glared at him.

Rafe’s lips curved. “Would it be so bad if I was?”

“Yes,” you said, “It would be very bad.”

He chuckled, the sound low, sending an unwelcome shiver down your spine.

“Relax, princess. I just saw you standing here all alone and thought I’d come say hi.”

“Hi,” you muttered, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now you can leave.”

Instead, he straightened, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you in a two strides until he was standing directly in front of you.

You tried to step back, but the wall blocked your escape.

“Actually, I was thinking we could, hang out for a bit?” he suggested, tilting his head as he regarded you.

“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Rafe blinked, seemingly taken aback by the question. “Why?”

“Yes,” you insisted, frustration growing inside you. “Why do you keep… doing this? Showing up, sitting with me, following me to lunch, acting like—like we’re friends or something. What is your deal, Cameron?”

Slowly he reached up, bracing one hand on the wall beside your head, leaning in so close you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

“My deal,” he murmured, his voice smooth, “is that I like you.”

No. No, no, no.

That couldn’t be right, people didn't like you, they tolerated you, maybe, or found you useful sometimes, but they didn't like you, not in the way he was implying.

You felt panic rising in your chest.

“You’re lying,” you said shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re just—this is some kind of game, isn’t it? Some—some bet, or—”

Rafe’s expression tightened, “It’s not a game,” he ground out, his eyes flashing. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You swallowed hard, chest aching. This didn’t make sense.

“I don’t believe you,” you shook your head stubbornly.

His eyes narrowed, “No?”

“No,” you repeated, crossing your arms defiantly. “You’re just… you. You can’t just decide you like me out of nowhere.”

“I didn’t decide,” he murmured, “It just happened.”

Your breath hitched. Why was he doing this to you? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

“I—” You broke off, struggling to find words, but before you could answer, a loud voice interrupted.

“Yo, Rafe! There you are, man!”

You both jerked back, startled, and you glanced over to see one of Rafe’s friends—Topper, if you remembered correctly—stumbling over, a wide grin plastered across his face.

“What are you doing back here?” Topper slurred, his gaze sliding to you. He blinked, “Who’s this?”

Rafe stepped in front of you slightly, his posture tense and protective.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said curtly, “Go find someone else to bother.”

Topper blinked, taken aback. “Whoa, man, chill. I was just—”

“Go,” Rafe repeated, his tone brooking no argument.

Topper stared at him for a long moment, then slowly backed off, muttering under his breath as he disappeared into the crowd. As soon as he was gone, Rafe turned back to you, his eyes softening again.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured, “Didn’t mean to—”

“Why did you do that?” you cut in, your heart still pounding.

Rafe frowned. “Do what?”

“Get rid of him,” you said, shaking your head in confusion. “He was your friend. Why would you—”

Maybe you’d misread him, he didn’t mean any of what he said. He was probably bored, looking for some amusement—another toy to play with for a little while.

“I wanted to talk to you. Not him.”

You blinked, bewildered. “But he’s your friend.”

He gave a half-hearted shrug. “So? Doesn’t mean I want him interrupting us.”

Us. Like there was an “us.” Like there could ever be an “us.”

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of confusion. “But I don’t understand,” you mumbled. “I don’t get it. You don’t know me.”

“I know enough,” he said quietly, his eyes holding yours in a way that made it hard to breathe. “More than you think.”

You frowned.

It was impossible to ignorethe nagging feeling that he was just… playing with you, this was all some sick joke and at any moment, the punchline would hit, and you’d be the idiot.

“You’re messing with me,” you muttered, taking a small step to the side to put some space between you. “You’re bored or something.”

“I’m not bored,” he said firmly, stepping forward to close the gap you’d just created. “I told you, I wouldn’t do that.”

“I didn’t ask for this. You’ve been following me around, showing up where I am, saying all these things like—like we’re something, but we’re not.”

His eyes narrowed, not believing what he was hearing. “What are you talking about? You think I’m just messing around?”

“Yes!” you practically shouted, throwing your hands up. “Yes, I do! Why else would you be doing this? You’re Rafe Cameron, for god’s sake. You don’t even like me. This is just some twisted game to you, isn’t it?”

You stared at him, trying to read his face, find any hint of dishonesty, any sign that this was all an act. But all you saw was that same intensity. Panic kept grazing at you. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be.

People didn’t seek you out at parties or show up in libraries to talk about sociology. Guys like Rafe didn’t choose people like you.

There had to be some ulterior motive.

“You show up out of nowhere, act like I’m some project, some… someone who needs your protection—why, Rafe? Because I don’t fit into your world? Because I’m a joke to you and your friends?”

“That’s not it,” He growled, his voice defensive. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what I’m talking about?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “You haven’t given me a reason to believe any of this.”

“You think I’m lying?

You moved your head again, harder this time.

“You’re—you’re saying things that don’t make sense. I don’t understand.”

He took a slow, poising breath, "What doesn't make sense to you?"

"All of this," you replied, your voice quivering with frustration, "You, acting like you—like you care. Like you see me. People don’t do that, not for someone like me. I don’t—" You cut yourself off, not sure how to finish the sentence, your thoughts spiraling.

It wasn’t just that you couldn’t believe him; it was that you didn’t know how to. Your experiences had taught you to be wary, always look for the catch, because there always was one.

Always.

Rafe's brows drawn together in something that almost looked like concern.

"Someone like you?" he repeated, "What does that even mean?"

You swallowed, feeling your insecurities gripping down on your chest.

"It means I’m not… like you. I don’t know how to talk to people, I don’t get things right all the time. People don’t notice me, and when they do, it’s usually because I’ve done something wrong, or because they want something from me. That’s just how it is."

He shook his head.

"That’s not how I see you."

You opened your mouth to argue, to dismiss what he was saying, to protect yourself from the disappointment that was sure to come.

Rafe didn’t give you the chance.

"So I’m messing with you because you’re not like everyone else? Is that it? You think I’m playing some kind of game because you don’t fit into some stupid idea of who’s supposed to matter?"

You wanted to recoil into the safety of your doubts, but something in his voice, in the way he was looking at you, made you stop.

"I’m not going to pretend like I know everything about you," Rafe continued, no less serious. "But I know enough to know that I like you. I don’t care if you don’t fit in with my world, or whatever you think that means. I like that you’re passionate about the things you care about. I like that you don’t put up with anyone’s shit—not even mine." A small, almost self-deprecating smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I’ve spent enough time around fake people to know the difference."

You weren’t used to this kind of sincerity. Part of you still wanted to push it away, reject it before it had a chance to hurt you. But another part of you—a much smaller, quieter part—was whispering that maybe he meant it.

"Why me?"

"Because you're you," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Cliché as fuck. So why were you shaking?

The two of you just stood there, the noise of the party fading while your mind was processing everything.

"I’m not… I’m not good at this," you admitted, "At understanding what people mean, or knowing if they’re being serious or not. I don’t know how to read you."

Rafe’s eyes softened even more at your confession, and he took a deep breath.

"I get that," he said quietly. "I’m not always great at this either. But I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you, not about this."

You wanted to believe him. But there was still that tiny voice of doubt in the back of your mind, reminding you of all the times you’d been wrong before, of all the times you’d trusted someone only to be let down.

You hesitated, "I don’t know if I can."

He didn’d demand anything from you, instead, he nodded.

"That’s okay. You don’t have to believe me right now. But I’ll be here when you’re ready."

With that, he stepped back, giving you the space you so desperately needed. That small, almost hopeful smile was gonna hunt you for the next days.

You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been wrong about him after all.

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rohirric-hunter · 11 months ago

Note

Tell us another story from your security guard days

You learned as a patroller (or any other position that actually worked in the location we were guarding) that the alarms never worked properly. However, the people in Security Control, who were supposed to remotely manage the alarms, believed wholeheartedly and blindly in their infallibility.

One day, while I was operating a metal detector out of the data center floor, a trained monkey (my semi-fond semi-condescending nickname for Google employees) came out of the data center and said, "There's a fire in there."

"Okay," I said. There was a patroller passing by at the moment, and I waved him over and asked him to go onto the DC floor to take care of the fire.

He looked at me like I was crazy and said, "What am I supposed to do about it?"

"Find out where it is?" I said. (The trained monkey did not know, and had apparently seen it some fifteen minutes prior and chosen to finish up whatever he was doing before going and alerting anyone else about it.) "Report it to the supervisor and ask him to call the fire department? Put it out, if it's small enough?"

"I don't know how to use a fire extinguisher," he said, which was an interesting thing for him to say considering every security guard there had mandatory annual fire extinguisher and first aid training.

"Okay," I said. "Then take over my post."

"I'm about to go to lunch," he said.

I picked up my radio and reported to the supervisor that he had taken over my post. (If the post was later found unattended it would be on him, at that point.) Then I went onto the DC floor.

The fire was not big, but it was loud, so I was able to find it without much trouble. One of the servers had caught on fire somehow. I called Security Control and told them there was a fire and where it was.

"No there isn't," Security Control said.

"Yes there is," I said.

"There are no alarms going off," Security Control said.

"There sure aren't," I said. "But I'm looking at a fire right now."

"There can't be a fire," Security Control said. "There's no alarm."

I put my radio back on my belt, deciding I had better deal with the problem before it got bigger, and quickly put the fire out (using my mandatory annual fire extinguisher training). Then I radioed my supervisor and reported the fire. Fortunately he was a cool guy who believed me and had my back about it and I got to listen to him chew out Security Control for the rest of the day about the alarm system and the seriousness of fires and the proper protocol for dealing with fires.

That's why you always always always back up anything you have stored on Google Drive or any of their other online storage services. Or like. Just don't use them at all.

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kenniilovesthethicc · 6 days ago

Text

Jax ♡ Reader || Making a Poor Decision, What Else Is New?

Synopsis: During the bar adventure in the Lightning Round, Jax just can't seem to keep his eyes off of you. So, like a fool, he gets himself drunk as a "confidence," boost. However, the alcohol in his gut just makes him become sickly... he needs some help.

Contains alcohol use, Jax being a drunk mess, and nausea with post-hangover aftercare

___

Jazz music quietly filled the atmosphere within the bar, neon signs contrasting against the monochrome world. Jax held his chin in his palm as he leaned on the counter, bored. He was still cursed with veganism after cannibalizing Gangle, so he couldn't even order his drink the way he liked! Regardless, he took a small sip of his whiskey, awaiting your entrance.

"Jax, why do you keep staring at the door?" Pomni asked, none the wiser.

"Hm? Oh, it's nothing." The hare cooly brushed off. Still, his eyes remained fixed on the bar's entrance, and his ears perked upright as he heard the bell ding.

"Sorry for the holdup! It's a real storm out there," you announced, slightly leaning in to the accent you've seen in those old timey movies. Looking across the bar you noticed Jax staring at you with puppydog eyes. As soon as he realized he got caught, his pupils quickly shrank as he looked down at his drink. Heh, dork.

Setting your umbrella in the umbrella bin, you made your way to the final empty seat at the table, between Jax and Kinger. Getting Zooble's attention, you ordered the beverage of your choice, with or without alcohol didn't matter much to you. They happily got to work on your order, striking up conversation with Gangle and Ragatha.

Jax avoided meeting your gaze like it would turn him to stone if you made eye contact. "So, Jax, what's in your cup?" He swirled his finger around the rim nervously. "Whiskey sour, why?" "Just curious. That's also a fitting cocktail choice for a guy like you, I must say," you chuckled. The lapine man made a confused expression before rolling his eyes, taking a swig of his beverage. "I dunno what that's supposed to mean, but clearly I have better taste in my spirits than you do~"

Ignoring his attempt to start a debate, you took your drink from Zooble and thanked them. Taking a polite sip, you savored the taste. Jax watched your mannerisms with interest, his own drink just a few drops left at this point. He was definitely feeling the buzz by now, but he needed this. "Zoobie, can I get a refill over 'ere?" The triangle headed figure deadpanned at his attempt at getting into character as they begrudgingly filled his cup.

It was pretty obvious to most everyone what he was planning here: get [BLONK]faced to flirt with you. Now with his refill, he slugged it down vigorously before slamming it on the counter. It was incredible how quickly he got drunk, mouth a squiggly smirking line like he was a Peanuts character. You couldn't help but giggle at how stupid he looked. "Jax, I believe you've had enough to drink for the night."

He was flushed red as a beet, handpaws on your shoulders. "Am fine, kay? Whas more fine is- *hic* your face, hehhehe~" His stomach made a pitiful gurgle and he grimaced, now resting his head on your shoulder as he completely slumped over your form. "Guhhh, my dumb belly always gets mad when I- *hic* I'm drunken. Drank. Blehhhh."

Rubbing his back, you looked at the others for backup. "Well, I'm sure you and your belly would feel better if you got some rest." If the noir setting wasn't monochromatic, Jax would probably be green in the face right now. He groaned, any form of flirtyness gone. All he wanted was to sleep off this buzz. You looked up at your AI overseer. "Caine, can Jax be pardoned from the next adventure? He's..."

"Well, I couldn't allow one of my most beloved cast members to continue onward in such illness! In this instance, I will permit you to stay home for the rest of the day." Without complaints, Caine teleported the two of you back to the Circus, everyone relived to not be dealing with Jax anymore for a while.

Back at the Circus, you two were now in much more comfortable clothes as you settled into your room. Jax was sprawled out on your bed, blacked out. You placed a palm against his forehead, fingers splayed within his fuzzy fur. Sure, his unfortunate state was his own doing, but he still deserved some caring for. After petting his head some more, you left the bedroom and made your way to the kitchen. Finding all the ingredients to prepare some chicken soup, you got to work fixing a bowl for when he wakes up.

It was about half an hour until he was yawning and stretching, confused beyond belief about what had just occurred. You enter once again, the aroma of the soup you held stirring the bunny's appetite. "...What's all this about? Did I wake up from a coma or something?"

Bestowing him the soup and sitting beside him, you explained everything that happened that day. He remembered bits and pieces, but had zero recollection of anything from the bar. It was quite embarrassing to hear about his drunken stupor, particularly from you. "I really got that sloshed, huh..?"

"Hey, it just means we need to make sure you never get your hands on anything alcoholic again. By the way, how's the soup?" Oh? He hadn't realized how he'd already eaten half of it already. Jax patted his tummy, grinning at you with playfulness. "Well, now that my guts aren't in distress anymore, I gotta sing my praises~ Compliments to the chef," he teased, wrapping an arm around your waist.

Blushing, you leaned into his touch, happy to just have some peaceful alone time together. The two of you sat in comfortable silence, glad to have eachother in this strange digital universe. Jax didn't need to have any liquid courage to woo you. Just moments like this, away from the judgemental eyes of everyone, held in his arms. This was all you desired.

___

Hope you enjoyed another whimsical story about the boyfailure bunny lol toodles X3

#tadc #tadc jax #jax #jax x reader #cw drinking #cw nausea #was inspired by how Jax is both a lightweight drinker and easily made nauseous #he's such a cute freak

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eternlmoonshine · 5 months ago

Text

missed connections ☾ spencer reid

summary: one night with spencer was never supposed to mean anything- until he was gone by morning. now, you can't shake the feeling that it did. pairing: spencer reid x reader warnings: fade to black smut (no actual explicit content, just heavy making out), slight angst wc: 4k masterlist.

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the empty space beside you.

At first, it didn’t register. You were still half-asleep and groggy, cocooned in the lingering warmth of the bed and mind foggy with the remnants of last night. You stretched, reaching out instinctively, expecting to find solid warmth- the steady rise and fall of a chest under your fingers. But instead- nothing.

The sheets were rumpled- the only proof that someone had been there at all. They still held a faint trace of body heat, but it was fading fast. Your fingers curled into the fabric as you rolled over, blinking against the soft glow of the morning light filtering through your curtains.

That’s when it finally hit you.

Spencer was gone.

Your stomach twisted. A sharp pang of bitter disappointment settled deep in your chest. You scanned the room, heart thudding a little too hard as you searched for some kind of sign. Some indication that he’d left in a rush- that he’d wanted to say something but hadn’t been able to.

But there was nothing.

No note. No text. No stray belongings he might have forgotten.

No sign that Spencer had been here at all.

For a long moment, you just laid there. Staring at the ceiling. Trying to make sense of it.

It’s not like you were new to one-night stands. You’d done this before- woken up to an empty bed and shrugged it off. Moved on without a second thought. But this? This wasn’t the same. Last night had been different.

Spencer had been different.

It hadn’t been just about attraction, or alcohol-fueled impulsivity. The way he had touched you, kissed you, held you- it had been so deliberate. So intentional. He had looked at you like you were something precious. Something to behold. Something worth remembering.

And yet, he’d left.

The rational part of you tried to explain it away. Maybe there had been an emergency. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to take you. Maybe he’d meant to leave a note but got pulled away too quickly.

But no matter how many excuses you tried to conjure up, the same nagging thought kept creeping back in- what if you’d imagined it all?

What if it hadn’t meant anything to him?

You let out a slow, shaky breath, rubbing a hand over your face. God, how stupid were you? You’d let yourself believe, just for a moment, that maybe this was more than a fleeting encounter. That maybe Spencer- awkward, brilliant, and unexpectedly charming Spencer- wasn’t the kind of guy to just leave without a word.

But apparently, you’d been wrong.

And the worst part?

You hadn’t even exchanged numbers.

Your chest tightened. It was ridiculous how much that small detail stung. If you had his number, at least you could’ve reached out, even just to say something stupid, like hey, am i crazy or did last night mean something to you too? But now, there was nothing you could do but accept that he was gone.

Just like that.

Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to sit up, the sheets slipping down your bare skin. The room felt strangely colder now- too big and too empty- like it had lost something vital overnight.

You had work to do. A life to live. You weren’t about to let one night- or man- ruin your day.

Even if it hurt way more than you’d care to admit.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

It had started like any other night.

You were at a bar with friends, unwinding after a long week. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and the atmosphere buzzed with energy. You weren’t looking for anything in particular- just a fun night, some good company, maybe a little harmless flirting.

That’s when you saw him.

He was sitting in a corner booth with a group of people, all of whom carried themselves with an air of quiet authority, their eyes sharp even as they laughed loudly and sipped their drinks. But that wasn’t what caught your attention.

It was him.

Tall, lean, slightly awkward, but devastatingly attractive. Tousled brown hair, warm hazel eyes, a presence that felt both out of place and intriguing, and the kind of face that made you want to know every thought running through his mind. He looked like the kind of man who belonged in a library or a lecture hall more than a bar, like he was here by accident, or maybe someone had dragged him along.

And then he caught you staring.

Your stomach flipped when his gaze met yours, direct and unwavering. He didn’t look away. IF anything, his lips twitched, as if he was amused by your attention.

“Well, damn,” your friend whistled beside you, following your line of sight. “He’s cute.”

“Very.”

“Go talk to him.” You scoffed. “I don’t even know him.”

“Well, then get to know him, then.”

Before you could come up with a response, you caught movement at his table. One of the guys sitting next to him- broad shoulders, confident smirk- nudged him and whispered something into his ear. The man you’d been watching rolled his eyes, looking exasperated, but after a beat, sighed and stood up.

And started walking towards you.

Shit.

You sat up a little straighter, heart picking up speed as he approached.

“Hi,” he said, his voice smooth and deeper than you’d expected.

“Hey.”

He smiled. “I’m Spencer.”

You gave him your name, and the moment it left your lips, he repeated it- like he was committing it to memory.

“So, Spencer,” you teased, tilting your head. “Did your friend over there ask you to come talk to me?”

His lips twitched. “Something like that.”

You hummed. “Well, I’m glad he did.”

He blinked, clearly not having expected that response, and you laughed.

“Relax, I don’t bite.”

Spencer chuckled, a sound that sent warmth curling in your stomach. There was something about him- something unassuming yet magnetic, like he wasn’t entirely sure of his own charm.

And then the conversation started.

At first, it was light. Playful.

“Okay, so tell me, Spencer, are you the kind of person who always comes to bars with their friends but never enjoys it?” you asked, swirling the last of your drink in your glass.

His lips parted slightly, like he was caught off guard. “What makes you say that?”

You smirked. “You look like you’d rather be literally anywhere else. A little stiff, and a whole lot uncomfortable. Like you were dragged here against your will.”

Spencer huffed out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Not against my will, exactly. More like… strongly encouraged.”

“Ah, your friend over there?” He followed your gaze back to his table, where the man who had nudged him earlier was now watching with an entirely too-satisfied smirk. Spencer sighed.

“Yeah, that’s, uh- that’s Luke.”

You had no idea who Luke was, but you sent a mental thank-you in his direction. “Well, I think he had the right idea.”

Spencer’s brows lifted slightly, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard you right. “You do?”

“Mhm,” you leaned in slightly, resting your chin on your palm. “You’re interesting, Spencer.”

He exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “That’s… not usually the first word people use to describe me.”

“No? What do they say?”

He hesitated, then admitted, “Smart. Awkward. Kind of a know-it-all.”

You grinned. “And are you? A know-it-all?”

Spencer pursed his lips, pretending to think about it. “Statistically speaking, the term ‘know-it-all’ is often used to describe someone who shares an extensive amount of knowledge in conversation, usually unprompted.”

You grinned. “I’m assuming that’s a yes.”

He smiled, soft and slightly self-deprecating. “That’s a yes.”

For some reason, you liked that about him. There was no arrogance in it, no condescension- just pure, unapologetic intelligence. And you wanted to hear more.

“So… what’s your thing?” you asked.

“My thing?”

“Yeah. You know, that one topic you could talk about forever. The thing that lights you up. Everybody has a thing.”

Spencer studied you for a moment, something unreadable flickering across his face. Then, he said, “Books.”

You grinned. “Ah! I knew you were a book guy.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “What gave it away?”

“Something about you just screams ‘has an excessive number of books at home’.”

Spencer’s lips twitched. “I have over three thousand.”

Your jaw dropped. “Three thousand? You’re kidding.”

“Technically, three thousand and sixty two, but I haven’t done a full inventory recently.”

You stared at him for a second before shaking your head. “Spencer, that is both incredibly impressive and deeply unhinged.”

He chuckled, a little self-conscious. “I… really like to read.”

“I can tell.” You tilted your head. “Okay, next question. Favourite book of all time?”

Spencer didn’t even hesitate. “It’s impossible to pick just one.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m serious!” he leaned forward slightly, mirroring your posture without realising it. “It depends on the genre, on my mood, on what I need at the moment. Sometimes it’s Salinger, sometimes it’s Austen. Sometimes I need philosophy, sometimes poetry.”

Your smile softened. There was something about the way he spoke- so passionate, so unguarded- that made your chest tighten.

“I like the way you talk about books,” you murmured.

He blinked. “I- thank you.”

You toyed with your glass. “You know, I wasn’t really planning on having a deep conversation tonight.”

Spencer’s lips quirked. “Me neither.”

“And yet, here we are.”

“Here we are,” he echoed.

The air between you shifted, something charged settling in the space between words.

You didn’t know exactly what this was, but you knew one thing- it wasn’t just flirting.

This was something else entirely.

By the time you leaned in, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear as you whispered, “Do you wanna get out of here?” you weren’t sure who wanted it more.

Spencer exhaled sharply, like he’d been waiting for you to ask.

“Yes.”

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

The moment you entered your apartment, Spencer was on you.

For someone who had seemed a little shy at the bar, he was anything but hesitant now. The door had barely clicked shut before his hands were on your waist, gripping you with a confidence that sent a thrill down your spine. He pulled you flush against him, your bodies pressed together so tightly you could feel every inch of him. His lips met yours in a searing kiss- hot, insistent, and hungry.

You gasped into his mouth, and he took advantage of it, deepening this kiss as his tongue slid against yours in a way that had your knees going weak. His fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head just the way he wanted, taking control and making heat pool low in your stomach.

You barely made it to the bedroom.

Somewhere along the way, our jacket had been abandoned on the floor, his fingers making quick work of the buttons on your top. You tugged at his shirt in return, frustrated with how much fabric was still between you. He chuckled against your lips, a deep, breathless sound, before he helped you push it off, revealing the lean, toned lines of his body,

“Better?” he murmured, his mouth ghosting along your jawline.

“Not even close,” you whispered, fingers trailing down his chest, nails scratching lightly to see how he’d react.

His breath hitched.

Suddenly, you were being lifted, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you effortlessly to the bed. You barely had time to process before he was on you again, kissing you like he was trying to memorise every inch of your skin. His hands roamed, mapping the curve of your waist, the dip of your spine, the softness of your thighs.

By the time the last of your clothes hit the floor, you were already breathless, already overwhelmed by the way he touched you- like he wanted to learn you, piece by piece, not just in lust, but in fascination and reverence.

He took his time, lingering, teasing, making you shudder with every brush of his fingertips, every slow, deliberate press of his lips against your skin. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t just about need. It was about something more.

And maybe that was what made the next morning hurt the most.

Because for one brief, beautiful moment, you’d believed that this was the start of something real.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

You pushed your thoughts away as you got ready for work, shoving your feelings into a box you didn’t have time to deal with. You focused on your routine- brushing your teeth, fixing your hair, picking out something to wear- anything to keep your mind from drifting back to the empty space you’d woken up to, and the warmth that had faded from your sheets too soon.

It was fine.

You’d move on.

You always did.

But as you left your apartment, stepping out into the cold morning air, you couldn’t ignore the hollowness settling in your chest. You told yourself it didn’t matter, that it was just one night, that you hadn’t expected anything more. But the truth was, some part of you had hoped. Some part of you had wanted to wake up to sleepy smiles and tangled limbs. To a quiet good morning instead of a deafening silence.

As the hours passed and the weight of the day settled on your shoulders, you tried to lose yourself in work, in emails, in meetings, in conversations that barely registered. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the sting of disappointment.

You couldn't stop replaying the way he had looked at you, the way he had touched you- not just with desire, but with something softer, something that had felt real.

And you couldn’t help but wonder- was Spencer thinking about you too?

Or had he already forgotten?

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

“Rough night, Reid?”

Spencer glanced up from the file he was supposedly reading, meeting Luke’s knowing gaze across from him.

“What?”

Luke smirked. “You’ve been staring at that page for the last ten minutes. Either you’re just really invested, or your mind is somewhere else.”

Spencer blinked, realizing he hadn’t turned the page in… yeah, ten minutes sounded about right. He’d been so lost in thought, playing last night over and over in his head- your laugh, the way your eyes had sparkled under the dim bar lights, the way your fingers had absentmindedly traced over the rim of your glass as you listened to him talk.

The way you had looked at him.

Spencer swallowed, forcing himself to focus, but the heat creeping up his neck betrayed him.

Luke’s smirk widened. “See? That right there. You’re blushing.”

“I’m not-” Spencer started, but before he could even attempt to deny it, JJ, Emily and Tara were already looking up, intrigued by the conversation.

JJ arched a brow. “Wait, what’s going on?”

“Reid’s got something on his mind. Oh wait, I think it’s a someone,” Luke said, all too pleased with himself.

Spencer sighed, shutting the file with a quiet thud. There was no getting out of this now.

“I, uh… I met someone.”

That got everyone’s attention.

“Oh?” Emily’s lips curled into a grin. “Do tell.”

Spencer shifted in his seat, already regretting having said anything. “At the bar, last night. We… talked. A lot. And then…”

Luke leaned in, clearly enjoying this. “And then?”

Spencer exhaled. “And then I went home with them.”

Silence.

Then-

JJ nearly dropped her tablet. “Spence, you had a one-night stand?”

Emily whistled, shaking her head in mock amazement. “Damn. Look at you, all grown up.”

Even Tara let out a low chuckle. “Now, that is unexpected.”

Spencer groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Can we not make this a thing?”

“Oh, it’s already a thing,” Tara said, grinning. “Come on, Reid, spill.”

Luke leaned back, arms crossed. “So, what’s the problem?”

Spencer hesitated. “I had to leave early. The case came in, and I didn’t wanna wake them. I didn’t have time to leave a note.”

JJ’s expression softened. “And you didn’t get their number.”

Spencer sighed, his shoulders slumping. “No.”

The team exchanged knowing glances.

“Reid,” Emily said, giving him a pointed look. “Do you want to see them again?”

The answer came without hesitation, without even a moment’s pause. “Yes.”

Luke’s smirk faded slightly, replaced by something a little more genuine. “Then maybe that wasn’t just a one-night thing.”

Spencer’s brows furrowed, like the thought had never even occurred to him.

JJ smiled softly. “Spence, you wouldn’t be sitting here, staring off into space and smiling to yourself if it was just a random hookup.”

Emily nodded in agreement. “You like them. That’s not a bad thing.”

Spencer swallowed, unsure how to respond. He liked you. That much was obvious. But was it more than that?

His mind wandered back to the way you had looked at him like you wanted to know every thought in his head, the way conversation had flowed so easily between you, like you’d known each other for years instead of hours.

Luke nudged him with his elbow. “Maybe this is the start of something new, man. Ever think of that?”

Spencer let out a breath, something twisting in his chest. “I… I don’t know.”

Tara smirked. “Well, you might wanna figure it out.”

The team didn’t press him any further, but as he turned back to his file, he knew there was no way he’d be able to concentrate now. Because the truth was, it hadn’t felt like just a night.

It had felt like the beginning of something.

And for the first time in a long time, Spencer wasn’t sure if he was ready for that or terrified of it.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Penelope muttered, fingers flying over her keyboard as she sifted through databases and public records.

Spencer stood behind her, shifting his weight from foot to foot, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “I appreciate it.”

Penelope let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head. “I swear, this is the most rom-com thing you’ve ever done. Like, full-on, standing-in-the-rain, holding-a-boombox-outside-a-window levels of hopeless romantic energy.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “I’m not-” He stopped himself because, honestly? Maybe he was.

She arched a brow. “You’re telling me you, Doctor Spencer Reid, never thought about just letting fate run its course?”

Spencer hesitated, glancing down at the floor. “I tried. But I couldn’t stop thinking about them.” His voice was quieter, more vulnerable than he meant for it to be. “I remember everything, Garcia. Every little detail about their apartment, the books on their shelves, the way their coffee table had a tiny chip on the corner like it had been there for years. I remember the way they looked at me when we were talking, like maybe- maybe they thought this was something, too.”

Penelope’s expression softened. “Oh, Spence…”

“I know it’s ridiculous,” he continued, rubbing the back of his neck. “Statistically speaking, the chances of us running into each other again naturally are incredibly low. And I should probably just move on, but I- ” He swallowed, taking a breath. “I don’t want to.”

Penelope studied him for a moment before sighing dramatically. “Alright, Romeo, spill. What do you remember that can actually help me find them?”

Spencer exhaled sharply, trying to organize the flood of memories. “There was a college diploma on the wall,” he said, and listed the name of the university and the degree.

Penelope hummed, fingers already typing. “Okay, that narrows it down. What else?”

“There was a work ID badge on the kitchen counter,” he recalled, relaying the name of the workplace to Penelope. “It had a logo on it- something familiar, but I didn’t get a good enough look.”

Penelope’s eyes lit up. “That’s good. That’s really good. What else?”

“There was a framed picture on the bookshelf,” Spencer continued, “next to a stack of thick files and a few heavy reference books. It looked like a group photo- maybe coworkers? A team? It was taken outside of a building, probably where they work.”

Penelope whistled. “Damn, you’re good.”

Spencer ignored that. “They also had a mug on the coffee table,” he added, repeating the words printed on it. “It seemed well-used. It’s probably something they take a lot of pride in.”

Penelope beamed. “Oh, I love this. I’m on it.”

Spencer’s heart pounded as she worked. He felt ridiculous standing here, enlisting Penelope’s help for something that, logically, he should probably just let go. But logic didn’t seem to apply when it came to you.

After a few more clicks, Penelope’s face lit up with triumph. “Aha! Found them.”

Spencer leaned in. “Where?”

With a knowing smile, she grabbed a sticky note, scribbled something down, and handed it to him.

He stared at the address in his hands, pulse thrumming in his ears.

“Go get your happy ending, lover boy,” Penelope said, nudging him toward the door.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Spencer actually let himself hope that maybe- just maybe- he could.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

You were just leaving work when you saw him.

Spencer Reid.

Standing outside, hands shoved deep in his pockets, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He looked uncertain, nervous- even a little hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he should actually be here.

Your stomach flipped. “Spencer?”

His head snapped up instantly, eyes locking with yours, and for a moment, you saw something like relief wash over his face.

“Hey.” His voice was soft, a little breathless, like he hadn’t been sure you’d actually stop.

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering against your ribs. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped closer, exhaling, as if he’d been holding the words in for too long. “I’m sorry.”

Your brows furrowed. “For what?”

“For leaving so suddenly. For not leaving a note. For making you think it didn’t mean anything.” His voice was quiet, but there was something so deeply sincere in the way he said it.

Your breath caught. “Did it?”

Spencer didn’t hesitate. His eyes softened, full of something you couldn’t quite name, but it made warmth bloom in your chest.

“It meant everything.”

You exhaled sharply, looking at him, really looking at him, and you realized that despite the nerves, despite the way he kept shifting like he was prepared for you to turn him away- he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t mean it.

“Then why did you leave?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because I had to. I work for the FBI. A case came in, and I didn’t have time to explain. I didn’t want to wake you. I thought- I thought I’d find a way to reach out later, but then I realized I never got your number.” He let out a breathless, almost self-deprecating chuckle. “Which, honestly, was an incredibly poor oversight on my part, considering my job literally revolves around gathering information.”

You bit your lip, watching him.

“I tried to let it go,” he admitted. “I told myself it was just one night, that maybe it didn’t matter as much as I thought it did. But the truth is, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. About us.” He swallowed. “And I couldn’t just leave it at that. I didn’t want to.”

You could feel the tension between you, the way the space between you seemed so much smaller than before.

Your voice was softer now. “So what do you want?”

Spencer smiled then, something slow and certain curling at the corners of his mouth. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

Your lips twitched. “I thought you’d never ask.”

And when he kissed you this time, it wasn’t rushed.

It wasn’t uncertain.

It was a promise.

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beatrixst0nehill · 6 months ago

Text

Alice rubbed her belly, flaunting her pregnant form eagerly. "Soooo, this is very exciting. H-Hey guys, surprise! I'm pregnant.... My parents basically gave me an ultimatum. Either detransition or start pumping out kids. Like.... I was thinking of just detransing, like what trans girl doesn't pump her cock thinking of that??? But I chickened out and said I wanted to start breeding! Granted, I was bringing home a new guy or three.... or five.... basically every night. And my parents had to listen to me giggle and moan and get my fat, girly ass pounded for hours, all the while having to deal with the walls shaking and hearing their spoiled princess get spanked and smacked around. I think they really regret talking me into transitioning but it's too late now!

I actually received an already-pregnant womb. Allegedly I'm six months along but I've only had this womb for three months. The hospital got it out of some ditzy college girl who was testing experimental fuck machines. A student cranked it up when she was testing it on her ass and it scrambled her guts. Soooo, lucky me? Is this big for six months? I feel like it is. My doctors assured me everything is normal and it's becoming very common for trans girls to become breeders!

There is one teeny tiny problem. So, they gave me a choice when daddy brought me in to get my womb. Either they don't do anything and my belly just gets bigger and bigger with no birth canal until the hospital scoops me off the street to give me a C-section, or they give me a birth canal. I thought the first answer sounded a bit scary. Apparently it's pretty popular and really exciting for the girls to see how long they can last without getting dragged to the ER and having their kids scooped out. I asked for a birth canal. Ummm, let me just show you."

Alice removed her baggy skirt, lifting her cock with great heft, hanging down to her knees. She slapped it onto the table in front of her camera. It was even thicker than her upper arms, totally swollen, with a gorgeous head the size of her fist and the color of her lips, its urethra drooling precum. "Look at this!" Alice stroked her cock, reaching forward, slipping four fingers into it with ease. "Oh fuck, it feels so good! Look, I can fist my cock! I may or may not be encouraging guys to fuck it, too....... My balls are gigantic, too. How am I supposed to stay a girl with balls the size of grapefruits??? Ugh, I swear I must cum a gallon a day at least, it's unbearable how bad my erections get after only an hour or two without sex or masturbating. I'm told it's a similar level of horniness to most cis pregnant girls. Hurray, I guess?

I am also on very high doses of estrogen to keep my hormones in check, but still! My cock used to be like five inches, and my balls were like marbles. My doctor says they're almost finished growing but I'm not sure I believe him. Either way us trans girls with wombs are apparently kept pregnant by the state. I thought I'd have to go out and get fucked but nope! I have no choice. I'll be kept pregnant forever now, forced to push as many kids as possible out of my 'birthing shaft' as they call it. Since technically it's too big to actually fuck girls with. Doesn't stop them from trying. I get soooo many pregnant girls who excitedly approach me, feeling my belly, asking how far along I am, or to see how swollen my pussy looks, only to lift my dress or skirt and they gasp..... Then these girls take it as a challenge, trying to suck it, stroking it, bending over and begging me to 'try my hardest to ram it in their holes'. It's kinda fun getting so much attention from girls all of a sudden but it's exhausting, too. And I'm only six months? How do girls walk with such giant bellies???

Oh well, another four months or so until the big day. I'll definitely be filming it. Hopefully my cock can withstand pushing out so many kids. I can't wait to try! I feel like even at this side my poor cock might burst trying to do this but I promise to put on a good show either way! I love being pregnant, and hopefully this is the first of many more! ❤️"

#preggophilia #trans pregnant #mtf pregnant #pregnant kink #huge pregnant belly #birth kink #mtf breeding #mtf preggo #mtf cock growth

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petew21-blog · 1 year ago

Text

Romania dreaming

It has been a few months since I met George on the site for long distance dating for gays. He was from Romania, kind of cute twinkish guy. Never had much luck. I honestly can't say why I went on that website, maybe I was just bored, but it turned out as the best decision of my life.

It was strange cause from the start, we knew we had chemistry between each other, but the distance made it complicated. We often sex-chatted on the website. About what we would do to each other and so.

One day I told him I wanted to jerk off furiously, because of what he wrote, but my rommate was unfortuantely in the room. Then just a strange idea popped into my head. "What if you'd swap into his body? Then you could be with me." George told me about his Romania ancestor magic skills he had, but he did just some small parlor tricks from time to time. The bigger spells were harder. He needed a friend for that. A friend that I could be. And that I could benefit from too

George loved the idea, but was scared at first. "What if the other one in my body ruins my life while he is me? I can't let that happen."

"Ok, you know what. Find anyone hot from your life that you would like me to swap into and I will come to see you. Then you'll swap me back and I'll see what the other person did. Maybe the spell makes them think they're us. That would be neat" I suggested

George was more confident now and even sent me some photos of his straight colleagues from work, so that we could see if they behaved differently after swapping back. I immediately set my eyes on Daniel. His hot, absolutely 100 % straight, colleague who worked out. Insanely hot.

We both agreed. I got ready in my bed. I told George to start the spell at 21:21. I looked at the clock and still had some minutes left. I tried to fall asleep. Maybe Daniel would be asleep in my body and it would be easier. Then it hit me. Strange nauseating feeling and the light

I was standing in the locker rooms. Cold win from the AC on my bare torso. Bare torso? Holy shit. I am shirtless in the locker rooms of some gym. That's something I never expected to happen to me. I looked down. First thing that caught my eye were the shorts. Then I looked at my beautiful muscular torso. My new arms. Then I caught my new reflection. In the mirror was the guy that I saw in the photo. Daniel. "Daniel" I said aloud. His voice sounded so strong and commanding. If he told me with this voice to get down on my knees and suck him, I would. Speaking of sucking I looked in my shorts. Nice flacid shaved cock. "Gotta find out how big you are when you're hard big guy". His phone vibrated. Fuck, I almost forgot I was suppose to send Daniel proof of swapping bodies

I sent the photo to George's instagram. Then I wrote:"This is what you'll be looking up at tonight while you suck me off"

"Peter? I can't believe it. You're really him. You have to come over!"

I wanted to get his stuff and leave immediately, but the some of his friends got to the locker and ridiculed me for being a pussy and leaving without lifting. I don't know if it was Daniel's personality or something else in me, but I felt like I had to prove them wrong. And then I said things I didn't even know. Shit about cars, girls, FUCKING GIRLS. I even lifted without knowing how. This body was on autopilote.

I left early without saying anything. Bunch of messages from George waiting for me and being stressed out what happened. I explained and asked for his adress of his dorms.

The twink I used to talk to late at night was waiting for me in black compression shorts and black shirt.

"Heey...." was all I let him say out loud. I agressively pressed him against the wall and kissed him. Tongues twisting around each other, my teeth biting his lips, hands feeling up and down his body. Slowly we were working our way to his bed. I set him down and took of my shirt. He was visibly shocked, that his work colleague was now in front of him stripping down. I whip out my hard dick and pushed it into his face. He obliged immediately and worked his way with his tongue around the bright purple head of my new dick. He was working it like a pro, trying to swallow it whole, not gagging. But that didn't matter, I had to fuck his ass. Now.

I turned him around, not even stripping him, only pulling a bit of his shorts from his ass. I spit into my hand, got it on my dick and pushed myself in. He screamed out. But I didn't care, I just pused inside and kept thrusting. He was so tight. His ass was so tight around my shaft. I shot my cum inside of him. Pulling out and immediately searching for clothes to leave.

"You're leaving?!"

I snapped out. "Fuck, jesus George I am so sorry. I don't know what happened. I think Daniel's personality still had effect on me. I didn't mean to be so rough on you. Please forgive me."

"It's ok. It did hurt at first, but it was worth it. I still can't believe you're him now. And I lost my virginity with Daniel who I crushed over for years! That's so amazing!"

"Wait, this was your first time? But, you told me all the stories. Was none of it true? Jesus, George, maybe if I knew I would have fought Daniel's personality harder."

"I didn't expect we would me irl. I honestly didn't expect the spell would wrok, but here we are. Daniel is here. In my room. Wait, I have a great idea!" he started casting a spell

"Wait!" I wasn't fast enough to stop him.

But now I was looking at Daniel. From his point of view. Already feeling more submissive than in Daniel's body. The personality of the original body truly does have an effect on the one swapped inside.

George was now posing in front of the mirror. His eyes focused on his biceps and all the tense muscles.

I was now in George's twink body. I could feel his ass hurting from the sex with Daniel's body. I could feel the cum in his ass. I felt the attraction towards Daniel's body. But I didn't feel right like I did in Daniel's. I wanted to swap back.

George now got to his new dick, which was already throbbing hard again. How that's possible, I have no idea. But as soon as he started jerking his new cock he looked at me and I felt his predator eyes on me. Fuck, this is gonna hurt

The next morning I woke up sleeping next to George still in Daniel's body. We didn't sleep much tonight, but don't get me wrong, while the sex felt great I still couldn't shake the feeling that I was in the wrong body. As soon as George woke up I told him about my dysphoria with his body. He got mad. I could tell that Daniel's personality took over. And then few seconds later I found myself in my original body again already in my university lecture.

For several weeks George didn't answer my messages. I could only see as his Tumblr profile had more and more photos of Daniel's body in the gym etc.

Not only was I worried, but I had to admit to myself that I was extremely jealous. I was in that body first. I need it more than he did

I kept spamming him with messages and then one day he answered. The message said:"I need to fuck this guy in gym. I'll swap u with him tonight. Be ready". Man, I think it's better to have one body close to Daniel's rather than be far from him

He did as he said in the message. I woke up again in the bright gym. Now lifting. I proceeded to not cause suspicion.

This guy I was now in was really handsome. More muscular even than Daniel I dare to say. I could feel that his personality was not as strong as Daniel's. He seemed more kind in my eyes, but who knows who he is. I may not know before George tells me. I saw him on the other side of the room eyeing me. Stalking me even. I left the body on autopilote and finished the workout. His body was probably used to take photos after so I let him

Maybe I could stay in his body. He is really hot. And more handsome too. But I don't know. He is the type I would love to have as a boyfriend, not to be him.

I followed George to the showers. We were eventually the last people in the gym. I got into the lockers. Patiently waiting for him to speak.

"You're Mihai now. He's the owner of the gym. So we got the place for ourselves. Let's hit the showers"

I followe him. Mihai, what a nice name for this guy. I don't feel that Mihai is someone who would just follow others and do what they tell him to. Maybe I figured out how to overpower the personality of the person.

We got naked and stared at each other.

"Nah, this is wrong." and yet again he proceeded to perform his ritual

I was now Daniel again and was looking at Mihai. Now the reality of how he acted hit him. And as I suspected before, Miahi was irl a very nice guy. "I am so so so sorry Peter. I didn't know that Daniel had such a strong personality. I tohught I could fight it, but most of the time I just found myself being the passenger, but still enjoying his life. It's so weird. But I feel better now as Mihai. Maybe you should stay in Daniel's body for now. I'll learn to control the personality of others, just as you did and then we can safely try to swap with other people. What do you think?"

"I think" I said as I turned on the water in the showers "that you need a post workout shower. And that George and Mihai need to get to know themselves better" I smiled at him kneeling down to the nice hairy cock already waiting for my mouth

Few months later

Are you asking if we stayed in their bodies? Well yeah, kind off. We made their bodies our main ones. We got them to live together, start a relationship and now even if we swapped into other bodies Daniel and Mihai bodies continue what we established. Romantic right?

Me and George often take trips to some new locations travelling around the world, enjoying life of other people. Most of the time we try to find some straight friends travelling to foreign locations, trying to score some pussy there and slightly changing their vacation plans. Heh, there was this one time where we didn't even exit our hotel room. For a week. Crazy right? That was wild. But maybe I'll tell that story another time and tell you how our life in Mihai and George is proceeding

But now we are in the bodies of these two gym bro friends, waiting for the gay bar to open. See you

A story from messages we came up with while body swap roleplaying with @hunkpossesion

I changed the plot a bit, but still the hot bodies remained.

#body swap #body switch #male body swap #gay to straight

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hunn1e-bunn1e · 1 year ago

Note

Hello,I'll have saw the post Sinbad ask with dorm leader of twisted wonderland, can you do a same but with vice leader or first years group please?

Trey Clover, Ruggie Bucci, Jade Leech, Jamil Viper, Rook Hunt & Sebek Zigvolt - Sinbad (Magi, Aos) Male Reader

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Hey @ryu-things, you have no idea how long I've been pushing this ask back and procrastinating. I was trying to avoid it until I got done with all of the unfinished single-character asks that I have backed up, but I suddenly stumbled upon a really good song that I could use for the lyric quote. So here I am, suffering once again. (post note: somehow Lilia transitioned into Sebek 1/3 of the way through, so I'll do a part three of the first years and add Lilia there.) The lyrics quoted in this one are from the song “Cautionary Tales” by Jon Bellion. —Benny🐰

❝𝕭𝖎𝖌 𝕽𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖓, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖎𝖝𝖙𝖍, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓- 𝕳𝖊𝖞 𝕳𝖊𝖞, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉! 𝕭𝖆𝖓𝖌 𝕭𝖆𝖓𝖌, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕿𝖗𝖚𝖙𝖍, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖊𝖆𝖕𝖔𝖓- 𝕳𝖊𝖞 𝕳𝖊𝖞, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉!~❞

. . .

🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏

♠️ Trey has been the target of many flirtatious comments already, so you'd think he wouldn't be too flustered, right? The suggestive remarks and sexy smirks would simply roll off of him, like water off a duck's back. Except… He didn't think that [Name] would corner him up against a wall in the kitchen and whisper so close to his ear that he could feel the dampness of the world-hopper's breath. Trey didn't expect just how large the foreign king's hands would be as they engulfed his waist. The Vice Dorm Head didn't take into account that [Name] would treat him with such respect yet be so blunt with his desire. By the Seven, is this even legal?

♠️ Considering that the Queen of Hearts was well… the Queen of Hearts, Trey isn't too surprised at [Name] being the king of an entire country back in his old world. Although the bespectacled man didn't believe him at first since he's a naturally skeptical person, the man did come from another world. Not only that, but the foreigner gives off the air of a natural-born leader who has experience with being in a significant position of power. Trey will ask [Name] if he can spare some advice to Riddle about being an important public figure who holds power over others. He trusts his childhood friend, of course, but the clover-haired man can't help but feel that the redhead could still use the help.

♠️ This bespectacled man is about to lose his marbles if he receives one more ridiculously expensive ingredient from that hard-headed king! This has to stop; Trey is really starting to feel bad. How is he supposed to give [Name] gifts that are of equal value if the guy is buying shit that costs upward of one hundred thousand madol!? His family owns a local bakery for Seven's sake, not an international catering company! Not that Trey doesn't appreciate the foie gras, gold leaf, and fresh morels; he does, but he wishes [Name] would give him something less expensive and more personal. He also wishes that the world-hopper would stop spending such ridiculous amounts of money on the most unimportant shit.

♠️ Now, Trey is certainly not a jewelry connoisseur, however, he is absolutely certain that he's seen jewelry of a similar style to [Name]’s draping off of Kalim and even Jamil on certain occasions. They are quite lovely things aren't they, though, the six-pointed stars that were engraved into a few of them were telling enough of their true origin. Apparently, [Name] had gotten them from a structure called a dungeon; what the otherworldly man described as a giant spire that erupts from beneath the sands of the vast and vacant desert at the command of a magi. Whatever a magi is supposed to be… The Sindrian king even offered to make Trey one of his household vessels! Even if the bespectacled man still has no clue what that's supposed to mean…

🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏

“N‐now listen, you! This is a kitchen. It's meant for kitchen-related activities and not… n‐not this. You'll dirty the counters if you keep this up. H‐hey! Don't give me such a look!”

🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾

🍩 Its safe to say that Ruggie was very caught off guard when he was on the receiving end of someone's flirting. He's sure that he's not exactly anybody's first choice when it comes to a romantic partner, he'll, he's not even the first choice for a friend. But the hyena beastman can't deny the thundering of his heart in his throat when [Name] appears behind him and rests his face in the crook of his neck. Nor can Ruggie admit the swirling thoughts of a future together whenever the charismatic [Name] sneaks into the Savanaclaw Dorm kitchen and lifts him onto the countertop so the man can hand feed him. The feeling of large hands holding the underside of his thighs is forever burned into his mind.

🍩 Aw jeez, not this shit again. No offense to [Name] or anything, but this hyena is really burned out by all this royalty stuff. If the Sindrian king turns out to be another jealous royal, Ruggie's going to start ripping his hair out; one Leona is more than enough for him to deal with. He would ask the otherworldly man to talk some sense into his Dorm Head but he doesn't even bother, he lost hope long ago. [Name] being a king does sound pretty cool though, if the foreigner ever wants to spare him some gold or food the Ruggie will welcome it with open arms. The hyena beastman does think about how it would feel to sit on a throne, but a king's lap is comfortable enough for now.

🍩 Oh, for him? [Name], you shouldn't have– just kidding, keep them coming, ol’ Ruggie can pawn some of these beauties for a hefty sum of madol and then he can send it to his family back in the Afterglow Savana. O-oh, the Sindrian king is wondering why his little doughnut lover isn't wearing most of the gifts he bought them. Those are– those are in his room! Yes, his room. This hyena just didn't want to dirty anything that was given to him by someone as important as [Name], with him being a king and all. The ol’ Rugster definitely didn't sell most of the gifts that were given to him, absolutely not. But… on the off chance that that's exactly what happened, surely the foreigner wouldn't be mad at him, right? He's got priorities after all.

🍩 You know, Ruggie doesn't mind it too much when [Name] wears his gaudy jewelry when they cuddle, so long as this hyena gets to wear some every once in a while. For some reason, though, the henchman of the second prince of the Afterglow Savana only wants to wear the jewelry that the otherworldly man won't let him touch. But how could he blame him, it's the scrap hound in him, looking at things he can't have with big wanting eyes. [Name] will have to end up showing Ruggie just how important his accessories actually are eventually and it's safe to say that the hyena beastman will no longer let his Sindrian sugar daddy wear such dangerous things while he wants to be vulnerable for a moment.

🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾

“Hey, if ya ever get tired of eatin’ the same ol’ royal meals, yer pal Ruggie‘ll take care of it for ya. I'll clean yer plates lickety-split an’ free o’ charge. Heck, I'll even throw in a free fridge cleanin’ for ya as a bonus! All this with a downpayment o’ absolutely nothin’!”

🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚

🐬 Is Jade flustered? No, no, dear, he's more amused than flustered. This slippery eel hasn't had someone speak to him in such a bold way before, aside from Rook, but the hunter goes about it in a much more eloquent way. [Name] wants to wrap an arm around his waist and pepper his neck with kisses. Alright, but the monarch from another world better expect a bite or two placed over his Adam's apple in return, it's only fair.~ [Name] wants to sit him on his lap and whisper sweet nothings in his ear? That's fine, but he'd better expect Jade to take those sweet words up a few notches into dirty territory, this eel won't hold back. The king had better watch himself and stick to flirting with the mushroom lover only; this vice dorm head doesn't share.~

🐬 Hoh? A king? [Name]? It's not that Jade doesn't believe that the Sindrian man is royalty, he just doesn't want him to know that he believes it. It was fairly obvious by just the way that the foreign man carried himself and even subtly in the way he spoke. Hell, even Floyd figured it out -not that this eel is saying anything about his brother- was it even a secret at this point? But even so, Jade doesn't care too much about [Name]’s social status and will continue to pretend that he doesn't believe the man for the sake of seeing his frustration. That glare that the Sindrian man shoots him whenever the gentlemanly eel once again denies his claims, is really gratifying in a way.

🐬 Yes, that hand-crafted broach is absolutely stunning, and yes, these rings are embedded with treasured stones from all around Twisted Wonderland, but does Jade want them? Absolutely not. What use would he have for them? Sure, he could wear a few of the accessories that [Name] gifted him to any formal events that he may need to attend, but other than that, they'll just sit around and collect dust. He will certainly take his time to sit down with the world-hopper and discuss preferences; although the slippery eel prefers to do it the difficult way and make the king guess instead. Luckily for Jade though, [Name] seems to like the ones that play hard to get the most, so the influx of gifts being sent to the twin's shared room in Octavinelle skyrockets. Poor Floyd is so annoyed at being buried in fancy gift boxes, give him a rest already.

🐬 The amount of side-eye that this man gets from Azul whenever [Name] comes into Monstrou Lounge all decked out in gold and jewels is downright atrocious. Jade loves his otherworldly himbo boy toy, but it's becoming a bother to try and steer his childhood friend's schemes away from him at this point. Especially since a few of those accessories radiate a foreign magical signature and the Seven knows how power-hungry that four-eyed takoyaki is. So [Name], if you would be so kind, stop broadcasting your vulnerability to the group of people who are known all around the college's campus for taking advantage of vulnerable people, you dumbass. Jade himself is a part of said group, he hopes that just because he and the Parthevian native are in a certain relationship, the man won't assume he's a good person.

🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚

“Oh my, you're still going on about that? I understand that you're magicless, but I doubt lying about your social status will help your situation. Honestly, I'm starting to believe you're having delusions.”

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🐍 While Jamil appreciates that [Name] is trying to cheer him up, such vulgar words are- are unnecessary. Yeah, as much as I love our beautiful serpent man, he can be a bit dense. No matter what compliment, kind gesturing, or suggestive remark the king flings at him, he will immediately assume one of four things; 1. Those were meant to be passed onto Kalim, 2. They're trying to insult him in some way, 3. They need a favor from him, and 4. They're just trying to annoy him. But even then, Jamil can't ignore how hot-faced and tongue-tied he gets when [Name] pinches the brunette's chin between his large, calloused fingers and plants a searing kiss on his lips. Or how the Sindrian man leads him away to take a break and runs his fingers through his long dark brown hair.

🐍 As soon as the words ‘I'm also the king of’ left the handsome worldhoppers lips, Jamil could only let out a long resigned sigh. Of course [Name] was royalty, which explains why that man is so childish and irresponsible; running around and leaving masses for other people to pick up. The Al Asim servant resented the charismatic man quite a bit after that revelation; going as far as to slap his hands away whenever the other tried to touch him. Jamil will feel a bit bad after a while though, [Name] hadn't done anything wrong and he was taking his frustration over his situation with Kalim out on a third party. Thankfully the foreigner accepted his apology immediately and even offered to take him and his sister back to Sindria with him, how sweet.

🐍 Once again this serpentine man assumes that all kind words and gift-like objects being given to him are things that he's meant to pass to Kalim, and he does just that. It was only [Name]’s asking whether or not the gifts he had given him were useful and Kalim pointing out that the gifts were addressed to him by name that Jamil finally got it through his thick skull. This time, surprisingly, it was the Al Asim prince who was exasperated at his servant and not the other way around. The prince even made it a point to tell people to give all gifts meant for him directly to him so that they'd leave his servant be. (responsible Kalim for the win!) Looking over his now recovered gifts, Jamil couldn't help but flush at how costly they were. The thought of [Name] spending so much money to please him made the basketball player both embarrassed and endeared.

🐍 At first he didn't really notice them, but after being pulled against the muscled chest of his word-hopping fling(?), he was smooshed onto the business end of a few of the man's familiar-looking accessories. The imprint of a six-pointed star was on the side of Jamil’s forehead for days after that, to which the idiot whose arms he was in made a joke about him having a shiny forehead. [Name] got a good bonk on the head after that. The Sindrian man had once shown Jamil a djinn that dwelled inside his necklace, but after seeing the look that the serpentine man was giving the djinn, [Name] decided to keep the rest to himself. Now, the dark brunette gets frequent reminders that, if he so chose, the foreign king would take him with him when he eventually went back to Sindria.

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“You'll take me back with you? You'd really do that for me? Then please… remember you said these words to me… and take me away from this place when the time comes.”

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🏹 Well [Name], prepare to be outdone by a true professional. Rook will make the foreign man swoon so hard it's not even funny. The Parthevian native wants to pin this hunter to a tree, oh, haha look, now he himself is against that tree while the bob-headed blonde attacks his neck in between whispers of recherché poetry that he wrote earlier that day. That Sindrian king is lounging on a blanket in the wooded area just on the outskirts of the Pomfiore dorm campus and trying to coax the Frenchman onto his lap? Oh my, what's this? [Name] is now practically nude as Rook kisses and caresses each and every inch of his muse's warm muscular body. Somehow the blonde finds this thing the two have going on to be even more thrilling than a hunt.

🏹 His lovely muse is a king? It looks like [Name] has another new pet name courtesy of a certain huntsman. In fact, it's become Rook's favorite pet name, so his darling muse and everyone else in his vicinity is going to be hearing the words ‘Mon Roi’ as often as they breathe. Oh, this bob-headed blonde is dying to know what kind of wildlife is back in Sindria; he can describe beauteous landscapes in his poetry, what newfound fauna could be his prey, ah what thrilling thoughts he has. Since [Name] is the king, he'd certainly let Rook hunt to his heart's content, right~? You can't just tell him about all these curious little creatures and then ban him from hunting them; such a tease the otherworldly man is being, how cruel.~

🏹 The feeling of being spoiled with gifts by [Name] reminds him of how Vil ‘saved him’ during his first year when he was still in Savanaclaw. Although, Rook could never think back on his experience in his old dorm negatively; his roots are firmly planted in the Afterglow Savana after all. But instead of a haircut and rigorous skin care, he was given the best hunting equipment money could buy, and when it came to [Name]’s money, well there was a lot of it. As Rook's lovely Mon Roi told him, the greatest hunters are those who aren't afraid to become a beast themselves for the sake of the hunt. These new intricate daggers that he was gifted seem to have quite the resemblance to fangs do they not?

🏹 Rook doesn't bother too much when it comes to his Mon Roi's jewelry, it's simply a token of a faraway home in his eyes; the hunter himself has many of his own. Yes, the bob-headed blonde does in fact notice that his otherworldly muse's adornments emanate a mystical aura and glow from time to time and yes the poetry enthusiast also knows that the giant blue figures that [Name] calls djinn do live in the ones with stars engraved on them, but he could care less. What Rook is really interested in is having his dearest muse hold that pose while he captures how the light bounces off the gold and jewels that draped across [Name]’s naked chest in this portrait. The hunter made sure to hang the paintings on the wall opposite his bed so that he could see his magnetic Mon Roi when he woke up every morning.

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“Ah~ Mon Roi, the tales you have given me do you no justice. You are far more magnifique than these simple words can capture. It seems that I have found myself a challenge to overcome; I must bid you adieu.~”

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⚡ He keeps swearing up and down that he's been cursed by the otherworldly man; why else would he be feeling so odd around him after every interaction!? Sebek has been feeling flushed, and sweaty all over, having racing thoughts, been unable to sleep, and has continuously been stumbling over his words since he met [Name]! This has to be a curse; the half-fae wasn't experiencing any of these symptoms before! Even after Sebek demanded a duel in order for the foreigner to release the spell, to which wrestling on the bed was the request by the perpetrator, the curse only got worse! Now his mind is only occupied with thoughts of [Name] at any given moment; but he needs those thoughts for Waka-Sama, not some random human witch man!!!

⚡ So, the witchy human claims to be a king? HAH! Fat chance! There's no way Sebek would believe such an obvious farce, just who does this human take him for? The only royalty worth any salt is clearly his Waka-Sama, didn't you know? This half-fae knows what that human ‘king’ is up to, that man is just trying to lie his way into Waka-Sama's good graces, that's the only explanation! Even if Sebek knows that [Name] walks with the same regal posture as Malleus and knows that he has the same aura as Lilia does whenever they're sparring during swordsmanship lessons, he just won't accept it. And no, he will not accept a duel to change his mind.

⚡ A new sword and armor that cost millions of madol? Denied. As if Sebek would accept anything from some lowly human that definitely has plans to hurt Waka-Sama, he's not an idiot. Even if that sword looks expertly crafted and the blade is magically reinforced to cut through concrete like butter, h‐he's not interested in [Name]’s wicked wares! Ah, but… the weight of the blade is pretty good and the handle is very comfortable to grip onto… oh, and the hand guard is customizable too… A‐ah! Sebek wasn't admiring the craftsmanship, he was– he was just making sure that [Name] didn't place a curse on this sword is all. Yeah, that's it. What? No, he won't give it back, it was a gift, wasn't it? N‐not that a proud fae warrior like himself needs gifts from lowly humans!

⚡ Poor [Name] no matter what he does, Sebek continues his tsundere behavior. If the Sindrian king were to show the half-fae his djinn or metal vessels, who knows what he'd be accused of? Probably something like kidnapping his djinn and holding them against their will or saving a metal vessel for Malleus so he can trap him inside. But, if not that, Sebek would likely say that he has them for nefarious purposes. Whatever, [Name] better go back to the drawing board.

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“HUMAN! Remove this curse you've cast upon me at once, it's interfering with my duties to Waka-Sama! Wha- You still have the gall to lie right to my face!?”

. . .

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