#while laughable and shocking
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muqingapologist · 1 year ago
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probably overthinking this subject but is it weird that i kind of don’t like most mxtx extras and tend to disregard them from what i imagine as the canon characters in my head and that i wish more fics did the same?
for example, i would love to see more post-canon scum villain fics that reimagined shen qingqiu’s journey of becoming more comfortable with his sexuality and with binghe all the way to their wedding starting right from the end of the main story. while the scum villain extras do have very nice moments (i do love the bingmei vs bingge conflict, sqq watching lbh’s memories in the dreamscape, the moments in between, etc), the extras just don’t feel fully satisfying and instead just seem like mxtx if providing the fan service that she left out of the main story. as is her right of course!
but i feel this lacking most significantly in the mdzs extras. so many missed opportunities for her to have rounded out the world and side characters, explored another layer of emotional depth with the main couple, whatever else, and we just got….incense burner and some other, much less memorable, stuff. not to mention that, while i’ve come to accept that wangxian in the book is incredibly different from their dynamic in the censored cdrama, the extras just kind of reinforce almost solely the physicality of their relationship and none of their actual day-to-day interactions as a couple or the emotional hurdles they still inevitably must cross together.
tgcf’s extras are the least offensive to me but they are also not super interesting to me. though hualian in general is probably the least interesting to me postcanon anyway since, more than wangxian and bingqiu, they seem quite in tune emotionally by the end of tgcf and so less opportunity for tension in that regard. but also the extras here being included in my perception of them doesn’t really negate the way i prefer their relationship to progress postcanon, unlike the other two couples.
anyway, this might make sense to no one at all and if so, ignore me. and if you love the extras for any or all of these, so happy for you and a little jealous! i guess my main point is that, while obviously they’re extras and just not meant to be integral to the overall story, i think that mxtx’s determination to just write what is effectively shitposting for her characters as extras is kind of frustrating to include in canon when in my mind, these couples are just entering these lifelong relationships, and there are still many things to unpack and learn about each other, and the extras just don’t align with how i think those relationships would go based on the main story, and so i wish more postcanon fan content pretended they didn’t exist lol…does anyone have similar feelings or am i just thinking too deeply about this…?
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cheers-to-you-th · 5 months ago
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Don't Play Games (my heart is too fragile)
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Pairing: Streamer!Seungcheol x Reader
Genre: Fluff, smut !MDNI!, s2f2l (kinda)
Tags: Fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, smut, Streamer!AU, former college classmate!Seungcheol, very short period of angst, slow burn
WC: 21k
Summary: Getting addicted to watching hot men play video games was definitely not on your year's bingo card. Getting addicted to watching Choi Seungcheol of all people? The idea would have been laughable.
Warnings: Smut, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (they’re dumb, you shouldn’t be: wrap it before you tap it), pet names (princess), bigdick!Seungcheol, praise, some angst, lmk if I missed anything
taglist: @christinewithluv @cherry-zip @orngejuic @duckieo
The first time you stumbled upon Seungcheol's stream, it was an accident, a shocking one at that. It was just another boring day at work, your normal podcasts weren't doing it for you- listening about murders while writing a report on "harassment" between two employees who were simply arguing gave you some ideas that would not be very HR Manager of you- so you instead decide to go on twitch, your coworker had once told you it was perfect background noise.
You clicked on the first stream in the gaming category: Val w/coups by 'everyone_woo'. The stream had opened and the face of your old college classmate filled your screen and you nearly got whiplash from the double take you did.
Apparently the aforementioned "Coups" was the former infamous president of Chi Beta Zeta, Choi Seungcheol. It makes sense, you suppose- that they'd be friends- having been in the same frat, but the idea of shy Wonwoo from Engineering and not-so-shy Seungcheol, your fellow Communications major, was a little off-putting. That is, until you remember the other thing they had in common along with the rest of CBZ: sex.
Rumors constantly circulated: who Seungcheol brought upstairs at the last party, what girl Wonwoo was seen dragging into the supply closet near the library; although you were never a part of the rumors they spread like wildfire.
You shoved those thoughts aside as you finished the report, and when the rest of the day went by quicker than normal, you reminded yourself to thank Jeonghan later.
(And you definitely maybe went home and looked up "S.coups" on your computer before deciding his gravelly voice would be your new favorite white noise machine.)
Soon enough listening to him had become a habit; you were working? He was raging over a new fps he was trying; you were cleaning the house? He and Wonwoo were trying a new game pre-release. 
On Wednesdays you, Minghao, and Jeonghan have a tradition: the three of you meet at a whole-in-the-wall cafe to gossip catch up with each other outside of work-talk.  It started back in college, an agreement to always meet in the middle of the week for a break from everything—stress, assignments, life. Even now, years later, with jobs and responsibilities pulling you in different directions, Wednesdays remained sacred.
Today the three of you find yourselves in the same dimly lit restaurant you’ve all sworn by for years. It’s not anything fancy, but its quiet, comfortable, and, most importantly, they have a bartender who never questions the amount of time you all spend loitering at a table long after the food is gone.
Minghao is already there when you arrive, scrolling through his phone with the slight air of disinterest he always carried. Jeonghan shows up moments later, his usual carefree smile in place as he slid into the seat across from you.
“You’re late,” you tease, setting down your bag.
Jeonghan waves a hand dismissively. “Traffic.”
Minghao snorts, locking his phone. “We chose this place because it’s closer to your office so you can walk here.”
“Exactly,” Jeonghan says, grinning. “Too many people in my way.”
You roll your eyes but let it slide, already used to his antics. The three of you order your usuals, conversation flowing easily between catching up on work drama and not-work drama. It’s comfortable, familiar.
Then, as if on cue, Jeonghan’s eyes gleam with mischief, and you know what is coming before he even opens his mouth. “So,” he starts, resting his chin on his hand, “how’s our favorite Twitch streamer?”
You groan. “We’re not doing this.”
“Oh, we absolutely are,” Jeonghan counters. “Minghao, did you know our dear friend here has been religiously listening to Choi Seungcheol rage at video games?”
Minghao raises a brow, intrigued. “Seungcheol? That Seungcheol?”
You huff, sinking into your seat. “It’s just background noise. I put it on while I work.”
Jeonghan’s smirk widens at your dismissal. “Sure. Background noise. Because out of all the streams in the world, you just happened to choose your old college classmate’s?”
Minghao, ever observant, takes a sip of his drink before adding, “You know, he mentioned you a couple times.”
You blink. “What?”
Jeonghan nods enthusiastically. “Oh yeah. Back in CBZ, there was a few months where all he could talk about was you. He thought you were cute and would get really annoyed when you brushed him off. It was super funny seeing him finally get rejected, even if it was just because you were too oblivious to notice him flirting with you.”
“Dense,” Minghao supplies. “That was the word he used.”
You roll your eyes at them, “I wasn’t dense or oblivious, I don’t even remember talking to him for more than ten seconds. I was too focused on trying to graduate, plus he wasn’t my type.”
“Suuuuuure.” Jeonghan leers, “That’s why you listen to his voice on a daily basis now. Regret some things?”
You don’t roll your eyes at him, focusing intently on your drink as you swirl the liquid in your glass. “Whatever, I just thought it was more interesting to listen to someone I kind of knew instead of some random person.”
Jeonghan and Minghao exchange a look that makes it clear this conversation is far from over, but, mercifully, they let it go—for now.
A week later they grill you about Seungcheol one more time before finally deciding to let it go, thinking finally you can live in peace. 
That’s why you’re almost having a heart attack as you exit the elevator to see the very man of your dreams standing outside the apartment adjacent to yours, moving boxes in hand. Frozen, you stand there gawking looking at him. As if he can feel your gaze, Seungcheol looks over at you and raises an eyebrow in question, looking borderline nervous and irritated. It broke whatever trance you were in as you introduced yourself (trying your best not to stutter) as a former classmate. He visibly relaxed at that while his eyes lit up in recognition.
“Professor Han’s class, right? We had a study group together one time.” You nod, thinking back to how girls had glared at you during class for daring to be randomly grouped with Seungcheol. The session had gone by quickly, slipping your mind until now.
“Uh, yeah, for midterms practice I think. I’m surprised you remember.” Your response has a smile pulling at the corners of his (annoyingly perfect) lips.
“Hard to forget such a pretty face.”
His words cause your eyes to roll, some things never change you suppose. You hum in response, “Except when I first came up here and you looked like I had insulted your entire bloodline or something.” 
Seungcheol’s smile, you decide, is your favorite sight. His eyes crinkle at the sides, the cutest dimples form on his cheeks when his lips curl upwards, a chuckle escaping them. “Sorry, I just thought- it doesn’t matter. It was really good seeing you again though.” A matching smile on your face, you offer to help him with any boxes but he only shakes his head.
“I was taught to never let a lady carry her own things, carrying mine? Unheard of. Although if you want to cheer me on I wouldn’t mind seeing your face more.” He winks and you just shake your head, ignoring the heat rising to your cheeks. You respond with something about outdated views before excusing yourself to the safety of your apartment, taking a deep breath to calm your racing heart.
Over the next few weeks, the two bump into each other frequently; exiting your apartments, entering the complex; each time briefly chatting before going your separate ways. Some nights you would get a notification about a stream, only to hear him talking through your bedroom wall. Part of you felt bad watching him play, guilt gnawing away at your thoughts and distracting you. 
It’s fine you tell yourself as you write the marketing team’s monthly performance report.
It’s fine you delude yourself as you hand said report to your deskmate, Minghao, to review.
It’s fi-shit you finally are snapped out of your denial when Minghao hands your report back covered in red pen marks and shame. He says your name with concern lacing his voice, “Have you been doing okay? You seem kind of… off and I’ve never seen this kind of work from you before.” 
You shake your head, burying your face in your hands, “Sorry Hao, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” 
He just tilts his head and tells you that, if you ever need to talk, he’s here. That was the downside of working with your best friend– you could never hide anything from him. Normally you’d take him up on the offer- tell him your woes and such- if it wasn’t so goddamn embarrassing. You brush him off before taking a deep breath and steel yourself as you weigh your options. You could either tell Seungcheol that you watch his streams or stop watching them altogether, and you sure as hell wouldn’t be inflating his ego anymore (at least that’s the reason you tell yourself, it’s definitely not that you don’t want him to feel uncomfortable around you).
The rest of the day goes by at a torturing pace, no commentary in the background to make time fly quicker. By the time you get on the bus, you’re half-asleep, and then you’re full asleep, head lulled to the side, bouncing uncomfortably on the window, not that you notice. 
“..am? Ma’am this is the last stop. You need to get off now.” The driver of the bus stands in front of you while you rub the sleep out of your eyes and look around. Taking note of the darkness outside the window and unfamiliar street, you sigh and lean your head against the window again, flinching at your slightly bruised head. 
Could this day get any fucking better.
You apologize to the driver, who just looks at you with pity, and get off the bus, gauging your surroundings and sighing, breath fogging in front of you. Your bus stop is one of the last ones, meaning after a second you realize where you are and groan, pulling out your phone to call a car. Except of-fucking-course your phone is dead. It’s late, the watch on your wrist reading 11:56 (thank god at least something of yours is working) and look around one more time, hoping a taxi would drive by and save you from the cold night. Shoulders slumped in resignation, you start walking towards your apartment, it’s only a few blocks away, a maybe twenty minute walk, as long as your notoriously shitty sense of direction screws you over, which it does. By the time you reach your building you’re shivering, nose and fingers red as you reach into your bag for your keys. 
Keys.
Keys.
Keys that you remember setting on your desk at work but don’t remember picking up. You want to scream. And cry. Mostly cry, if you’re gonna be honest because now your shitty day turned into an even shittier night. Morning, you realize as your watch now reads 12:34. A shaky laugh escapes your lips as you slump down next to the apartment complex’s glass door that seems to taunt you, as if it's rubbing in your face how close relief is and how unreachable. 
You feel your throat start to tighten and tears begin to well in your eyes.
“Y/n?” 
You think you’re starting to go insane from the cold until a warm hand lands on your shoulder, a shadow crouching in front of you. Looking up hesitantly, you come face to face with your new neighbor, plastic bag in hand from what you assume to be a late-night snack run. The tears in your eyes start to fall as you begin to sob, if you were in your right mind this would be the most embarrassing moment of your life, but right now you’re cold and hungry and scared and this man appeared like an angel sent from heaven just to help you.
“Oh my god, you’re freezing. What are you even- nevermind that come on.” Seungcheol’s arms wrap around you as he helps you up, getting into the building with his keys and walking with you to the elevator. When it starts to ascend, Seungcheol sets his bag on the ground and takes his jacket off, wrapping it around you. You don’t even have the strength to argue with him, all of it spent on the tears that now slowed to a stop as you look down at your feet, shame starting to kick in. You don’t want to imagine the look on his face right now, knowing it’ll be the same pitying glances you’ve received all day. 
The elevator dings as it arrives on the correct floor. Your feet start moving, muscle memory kicking in until you’re at your door, realizing you still don’t have your keys. When an arm once again wraps around you, you don’t even protest, allowing Seungcheol to guide you into his apartment, where he sets blankets and pillows on his couch. When you move to lay on it, he stops you.
“What are you doing? I’m sleeping on the couch, you can take my bed.” The words seemingly bring you out of the numb trance-like state you’d been in ever since you stopped crying. 
“I- what?! No, oh my god Seungcheol no, I couldn’t- I mean you’re already doing so much for me and-” A warm hand cups touches your forehead, promptly cutting off your rambling as your frantic eyes meet Seungcheol’s warm gaze. Fuck he shouldn’t look at you like that. 
“No offense Y/n but you look like you’re on the verge of hypothermia, you need the bed more than I do.” His hand moves from your cheek to pat the top of your head as you huff, letting Seungcheol guide you to his room where. You can’t help but feel guilty as you watch him rummage through his closet before emerging with a victorious smile and a large T-shirt. 
“Wear this- before you argue,” He cuts off your protests before they can even start, “think of it as me not wanting dirty clothes on my bed and, as much as I would love to see it, you are way too cold to be sleeping in panties tonight.” 
Your face flushes as you grab the shirt he holds out to you, avoiding his gaze. “Thank you Seungcheol. Really. I’m sorry that you have to do this, but I really do appreciate it.” Glancing up at him, you watch as his teasing smirk melts into something different, softer.
“Don’t apologize. I’ll always be here if you need help with something, what are neighbors for?” walking towards the door, Seungcheol looks back at you one more time, “I normally wouldn’t let you sleep without at least having a warm bath to stop a cold, but I think you’d pass out in the shower if I tried. Get a good night’s rest, yeah? I’ll see you in the morning.” And even after he leaves the room, his warmth stays, the soft gaze he’d given you burned into your eyelids as you drift to sleep.
The scent of coffee and bacon wakes you from deep sleep. For a second, you're disoriented, the unfamiliar surroundings causing a brief panic before switching to embarrassment as memories of last night flood back. You're in Seungcheol's bed, wrapped in his sheets that smell faintly of pinewood and something uniquely him.
Sunlight streams through gaps in the curtains, painting stripes across the room. You stretch away the ache in your muscles from the cold and stress of yesterday, tugging the oversized shirt Seungcheol lent you down as you swing your legs over the side of the bed.
Your bare feet hit cool hardwood, as you shuffle towards the bedroom door, following the enticing smell of breakfast. In the kitchen, Seungcheol stands at the stove, his broad back to you.
As you approach, Seungcheol turns, spatula in hand, and flashes you a heart-stopping smile. "Morning. How are you feeling?"
You run a hand through your sleep-mussed hair, suddenly self-conscious. "Better, thanks to you. I can't believe that happened."
"Hey, don’t worry about it," he chuckles. "I figured you could use the rest. Coffee?"
You nod gratefully while he pours you a steaming mug. Seungcheol plates up eggs, bacon, and toast. The domesticity of the scene isn't lost to you - here you are, in his clothes, sharing breakfast in his kitchen. It feels dangerously intimate.
"Thanks," you murmur, accepting the plate he hands you. "You really didn't have to do all this."
Seungcheol waves off your gratitude as he settles across from you at the small kitchen table. "It's no trouble. Besides, I couldn't let you face the day on an empty stomach after last night."
You take a bite of the perfectly crispy bacon, trying not to moan at how good it tastes. As you eat in companionable silence, you can't help but sneak glances at Seungcheol. His hair is slightly mussed from sleep, a slight sleepy haze in his eyes. He looks softer like this, less like the polished streamer and more like the boy you’d seen in college.
"So," he says after a while, setting down his mug. "Want to tell me what happened last night?"
You hesitate, your fork hovering over your plate. What were you supposed to say? That you had been thinking of him non-stop for the last 24 hours? That you were a mess whose sense of direction was almost as bad as your work-life balance? That you'd been caught in what was arguably one of your worst moments, by none other than the main cause of your original turmoil?
He seems to sense your internal conflict because he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. His tone softens, playful but not prying. "You don’t have to, y'know. I just figured you might want to talk about it. Seems like you had a long day, I won’t judge."
You sigh, feeling the weight of exhaustion creep back in. "It’s not even that interesting," you start, avoiding his eyes. " It was just... one thing after another. Fell asleep on the bus, could’t call a taxi caus’ my phone died, forgot my keys at work; Honestly, the world was conspiring against me the whole day, I swear."
Seungcheol hums thoughtfully, swirling the last of his coffee in his mug. "Sounds rough. No one likes walking around in the freezing cold with no way to get inside. It was a good thing I went out when I did, maybe it’s a sign I should take more midnight snack runs."
You laugh softly and promptly ignore the stuttering of your heart, "Hopefully it won’t happen again," you admit. "And… either way it’s not exactly something I want to bother you with."
He raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "You weren’t a bother at all. Besides, I think helping you out is the bare minimum of what neighbors should do, don’t you?"
Neighbor. The word feels heavier than it should, he’s right; all you are to him is a neighbor, nothing more nothing less. You try to play off the feeling of your heart dropping into your shoes, shaking your head with a small laugh. "I have to admit, I’d never have guessed you were the knight-in-shining-armour type. At-night-in-UnderArmour maybe, but this is unexpected"
Seungcheol grins, his dimples flashing. "Hey now, don’t let the frat guy rep fool you. I’ve always been nice."
You laugh at that, the tension in your chest loosening. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."
As he rinses the dishes, you take a moment to look around his apartment. It’s cozy, a mix of modern furniture and personal touches—a stack of books on the coffee table, a framed photo of what looks like his old frat brothers on a shelf, and a ridiculous number of gaming peripherals on his desk. It suits him, you think, the same way his easy smile and annoyingly perfect hair suit him.
"So," Seungcheol says, drying his hands before turning to face you. "Any plans today? Or are you planning to crash and catch up on sleep?"
"Work," you groan, already dreading the thought of going back to the office. "I have to deal with a report I butchered yesterday."
"Rough," he says, leaning against the counter. "Tell you what—after work, if you’re up for it, I’ll make dinner. Consider it part two of my neighborly duties."
The offer catches you off guard, but you manage to nod despite the sudden flutter in your stomach. "You don’t have to keep feeding me, you know."
Seungcheol just shrugs, a teasing glint in his eye. "I know. But I want to. Plus, you owe me. You cried on my shirt last night, remember?"
Your jaw drops, heat rushing to your face as you groan. "I did not—!"
"You totally did," he interrupts with a laugh, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. "It’s okay, though. It’s a good story."
"You’d better not go spreading this around mister." you say, pointing a warning finger at him. But the smile tugging at your lips betrays you, and Seungcheol just grins wider.
"Hmm I make no promises madam."
As you gather your things and prepare to face the day, Seungcheol’s warm gaze and easy laughter lingers in your mind, making you feel giddy and guilty at the same time. And as you step out of his apartment, you realize you’re already looking forward to the evening.
The day drags on slower than you’d like, each hour feeling like an eternity between the mountain of emails, the endless meetings, and the painstakingly slow process of fixing your stupid report.
By the time you get back to your apartment (with your keys this time, thank god), exhaustion is settled deep in your bones. You drop your bag by the door and kick off your shoes, barely making it to the couch before collapsing in a heap. The thought of getting up, even to change out of your work clothes, feels like an impossible task.
A soft knock at your door jolts you out of your half-asleep state. For a split second, you consider ignoring it, but then you remember Seungcheol’s offer(demand?) from this morning. With a groan, you drag yourself up and shuffle to the door, opening it to find him standing there, a grin on his face and a grocery bag in hand.
"Thought you might be too tired to make it over," he says, holding up the bag. "So, I figured I’d bring the dinner to you."
You blink at him, caught off guard. "You… didn’t have to do that," you mumble, though the smell wafting from the bag has your stomach growling in protest.
He laughs, brushing past you into the apartment. "I know. But you seemed like you had a long day, and I wasn’t about to let you skip a proper meal. Plus, I’m not sure I trust you to make anything edible in your state."
"Hey!" you protest, following him into the kitchen. "I’m perfectly capable of cooking, thank you very much."
He raises an eyebrow, eyes scanning your kitchen clearly unconvinced. "Sure you are. When was the last time you had something that wasn’t instant ramen or takeout?"
You open your mouth to argue, but the words die on your tongue because… well, the empty takeout boxes in your kitchen speak enough. Instead, you cross your arms and huff. "Fine. You win. But only because I’m too tired to argue."
"Glad we’re on the same page," he says, already unpacking the bag and setting up in your kitchen like he owns the place. You watch as he moves with practiced ease, pulling out ingredients and utensils like he’s done this a million times before.
It’s oddly comforting, watching him work. The kitchen feels warmer, cozier, with him in it. You find yourself leaning against the counter, a small smile tugging at your lips as he chats about his day—about how his coworker accidentally sent an email to the entire company, or how he nearly slipped on ice outside his building.
Before you know it, the smell of something delicious fills the air, and your stomach growls loudly, earning a laugh from Seungcheol.
"I guess you’re hungry," he teases, sliding a plate in front of you. 
You roll your eyes but can’t hide your grin as you pick up your fork. "If this is bad, I’m never letting you live it down."
He smirks, leaning against the counter as he watches you take your first bite. The flavors hit your tongue, and you can’t help the satisfied hum that escapes you.
"Okay, fine," you admit, reluctantly. "This is… not bad."
"Sure, not bad. Dare you say good?" he says, his grin widening. "You’re welcome, by the way."
The two of you eat together, the conversation flowing easily. It’s light and playful, with just the right amount of teasing to keep you on your toes. By the time the plates are empty, you realize you’re smiling more than you have in days.
As he helps you clean up, you find yourself glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. There’s something about the way he moves, the way he laughs, that makes your chest feel a little too tight and your thoughts a little too scattered.
"Thanks for this," you say softly as he dries the last plate. "I really needed it."
He looks at you, his expression softening. "Anytime," he says simply. "That’s what neighbors are for, right?"
Neighbor. There it is again, that word. But this time, it doesn’t feel as heavy. Because maybe, just maybe, it’s not about what you are to each other now, but about what you could be.
A few days pass in a blurry haze. Seungcheol’s number was now saved in your phone, his occasional texts making you more giddy than you’d like to admit. The two of you occasionally see each other in the hallway, tonight he knocks on your door with food in hand, claiming he made too much and offering you some. You invite him in to share the meal (you’re just being a good neighbor), laughing and joking around as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And honestly, it kind of was. 
Seungcheol insists on brewing you a cup of tea before he leaves, claiming it’s the perfect way to wind down after a long day. You let him, mostly because you’re too tired to argue but also because, well… It's nice having him here.
He chats while the kettle heats up, leaning casually against the counter like he belongs in your kitchen. The way he speaks, the rhythm of his voice, fills the quiet space in a way that feels natural—like he’s not just filling silence but adding something to it.
When he hands you the steaming mug, his fingers brush yours briefly, and you try not to overthink the spark of warmth that lingers long after he pulls away.
"So, any big plans tomorrow?" he asks, settling into a chair at your kitchen table. It feels oddly domestic, like this is something the two of you do all the time. You shake your head, cradling the mug in your hands. "Just work. Again. Though I’m praying for fewer disasters this time."
He chuckles, resting his chin in his hand as he looks at you. "Sounds like you could use a break. Maybe take the weekend off, do something fun."
You snort softly. “Like what, go clubbing or something? Not really my vibe."
"Doesn’t have to be that extreme," he says, grinning. "It could be something simple. A walk in the park, binge-watching a terrible reality show, or trying out that café down the street you keep mentioning but never go to."
You raise an eyebrow at him. "Are you suggesting I take myself on a date?"
"Hey, self-care is important," he says with a shrug, though the teasing glint in his eye suggests he’s enjoying himself. "But if you need a plus-one, I might be available."
The words hang in the air for a moment, and you’re not entirely sure how to respond. Is he joking? Probably. But there’s a softness in his expression that makes you wonder if there’s more to it than that.
"I’ll think about it," you say finally, trying to sound casual. "But don’t get your hopes up, Cheol. I’m not easy to impress."
He smirks, leaning back in his chair. "So it’s Cheol now, huh? Don’t apologize- I like it." he once again practically reads your thoughts, “And here, once you’re done thinking, let me know, yeah? Or in case you get locked out again.” Seungcheol slides over his phone with a new contact open as you roll your eyes, typing your number in anyways.
It’s late by the time he finally leaves, the mug you used now washed and drying on the counter. As you close the door behind him, your apartment feels quieter than it did before. Not in a bad way— the kind of quiet that lets you think. You find yourself replaying the evening in your head: his laugh, the way he somehow managed to turn your chaotic kitchen into a space that felt warm and inviting, the way his gaze didn’t leave you once when the two of you talked.
Shaking your head, you force yourself to focus on getting ready for bed. It’s nothing, you tell yourself. He’s probably just trying to make some new friends in the neighborhood.
But as you crawl under the covers, your mind drifts back to his earlier word, "If you need a plus-one, I might be available." The thought lingers, a soft thread of warmth that wraps around your chest as you grab your phone, typing a message before you can change your mind. Your fingers hover over the screen for a moment before you close your eyes and press send.
You: So how about that date?
The text felt heavier as the three little dots that blink back at you in reply. You hold your breath, heartbeat thudding in your ears.
When his text pops up on your phone, a shy smile automatically spreads across your face as you read it.
Seungcheol: How about Saturday?
Seungcheol: I’ll plan it—just be ready by 10.
The squeal you let out could rival one of a teenage girl on her first date as you kick your feet giddily in bed. Fuck, you were already down so bad. When you hear a chuckle through the wall your phone drops to the floor with a thud as it buzzes again..
Seungcheol: Careful, I might start to hope you’re looking forward to seeing me
This arrogant correct motherfucker. Your fingers type a quick response, trying to save whatever dignity you have left.
You: Saw a spider
You: Anyways where should I meet you?
His response makes your eyes roll with endearment annoyance.
Seungcheol: I think your memories are getting mixed up, spider was what everyone called Hoshi, not me. And no spoilers, just dress comfortably.
Two days later, Saturday morning rolls around, and you’re standing in front of your mirror, staring at your outfit for the third time. He said casual, so why are you frantically searching for the perfect attire? 
It’s fine, you think, not over the top. He doesn’t know what your closet looks like anyways, for all he knows you always wear this kind of clothes.
Your cozy beige sweater is paired with jeans and ankle boots, casual but still nice. Your makeup is light, natural. 
A knock on your door makes your heart jolt. Grabbing your bag, you take a steadying breath before opening it.
Seungcheol stands there, hands casually tucked in his jacket pocket, a grin already spreading across his face. His eyes flick up and down your body once, twice, hitching in some areas before finally settling on your eyes.
“You-” He clears his throat, “You look really good.” His eyes flick away from yours briefly, you swear you hear him mutter something along the lines of too good but it must be your imagination, flustered by how the man in front of you seems almost shy.
“Thanks,” you reply, giving him a similar once over to the one he’d subjected you to earlier. 
Black cargo pants with a dark denim jacket (that somehow looks warm) over a white graphic T. The outfit might look sloppy on someone else, but Seungcheol makes it look like he should be on a runway, the clothes draping over him perfectly as though everything was custom-made for him. 
“You don’t look half bad yourself.”
“You really are hard to impress huh?” he teases. “Lucky for you I’m always happy to deliver. Ready to go?”
The two of you walk to the parking outside as you chat, getting into his annoyingly nice car. You can’t help but wonder where he’s taking you as the roads out the window blur. No matter how hard you try to pry the information out of him, he doesn’t budge. A lesson in patience, he tells you. When the car finally stops, you look around, surprised– an amusement park.
“Seriously?” you ask, poorly trying to hide your smile as you stare at him.
“What? Too childish for you princess?” he says with a sly grin. You just hum in faux indignation, giving up on any attempt at hiding your smile.
The park is alive with bright lights, lively music; the smell of popcorn and funnel cakes wafting through the chilly air. You wander through the attractions, playing a few games and riding the tamer rides to start. At one of the stands, Seungcheol picks up two pairs of animal ears, holding them where you can’t see. 
“Pick a side.” he states with a sparkle in his eyes, hands behind his back.
You roll your eyes at his antics and do as he asks.
“Good choice,” he said, handing you a pair of floppy bunny ears, putting the other set- wolf ears- on his own head. “How do I look?”
You snort. “Ridiculous.”
“Come on princess, I think yours suit you perfectly,” he teased, tugging gently on one of the ears now perched on your head. He drags you over to one of the photo-booths scattered around the park and pulls you inside as you laugh.
His arm is wrapped around you, who instinctively leans into his shoulder as the screen counts down. After some more silly shots, the last timer runs on the screen. The two of you are posing when you impulsively turn your head and press a kiss to his cheek as the flash goes off. Before you can try and see Seungcheols expression you quickly get out of the booth, crouching down to wait for the photos to print. A shadow surrounds you but you ignore it, grabbing the two photo stips and standing up, actively avoiding looking at the man behind you until you feel strong arms circle around your waist.
“Don’t get shy on me now, princess.” Seungcheol’s voice is low and quiet, his breath tickling you neck. He gently turns you around in his arms, forcing you to face him. When you do, you can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips.
His eyebrows raise, expression soft and questioning as you raise your hand to his cheek. “You’ve uh.. Got a little something on here.” Before you can wipe off the lipstick mark a hand grabbing your wrist stops you. Seungcheol just hums, the smile on his face growing as he responds. “Leave it there, I like it.”
You look away, flustered, “It might stain.”
His smile only grows further as his hands squeeze your waist reassuringly, “Even better.”
A few more hours fly by in a blur of laughter, shared glances, and the occasional screaming as you ride a roller coaster. As the day winds down, Seungcheol leads you toward the Ferris wheel.
“Ending with a Ferris wheel ride at sunset huh?” you tease with a smirk. “Classic.”
He chuckles. “You’re smiling, so I think it’s worth being cheesy.”
Your face flushes as you step into the car with him, the soft glow of the park lights casting everything in a dreamy haze. As the wheel lifts you higher, you take in the moment—simple, sweet, and perfect.
The car sways gently as it begins to ascend, the world growing smaller beneath your feet. Seungcheol leans back in the seat across from you, his arm casually draped across the edge, as though the intimacy of the situation didn’t seem to bother him at all. Meanwhile, your heart is racing, the memories of the day making it difficult to keep your composure as you keep your eyes trained on the park as it gets smaller and smaller.
“Nice view,” the man across from you murmurs. When you sneak a glance at him, his eyes aren’t on the horizon—they’re focused on you, his soft expression making your breath hitch.
You bite the inside of your cheek, turning to face the window again. “Yeah, it’s beautiful,” you agree, your voice coming out shakier than intended. The warmth of the sunset casts a golden glow across the park below, lights beginning to twinkle as the day faded.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Seungcheol shift slightly closer. “You’ve been smiling all day,” he comments. “Do I get some credit for that, or was it just the funnel cakes?”
You laugh, turning back to meet his gaze. “Oh definitely the funnel cake, But you’re decent company too, I guess.”
He grins, leaning forward just slightly. “Decent? Come on, you can do better than that.”
You raise a brow, trying to hold your ground despite how his closeness makes you feel like melting into the seat. “Don’t push your luck.”
For a moment, there’s nothing but the distant hum of the park and the creak of the Ferris wheel as it carries you higher. His expression softens, and he tilts his head slightly, as though weighing his next words carefully. “You know,” he starts, his voice low, “I wasn’t kidding when I said I hoped you were looking forward to seeing me.”
Your breath catches, and you search his face for any trace of teasing, but his expression is nothing but sincerity with a tinge of nervousness. “Maybe I was,” you admit quietly.
His smile widens, dimples returning with full force as the confidence that had momentarily wavered in his eyes returns. “I’m glad. Maybe I was hoping to see you too.”
The car comes to a stop at the top of the wheel, leaving the two of you suspended in the sky. The view is breathtaking, but all you can focus on is the way Seungcheol’s eyes shine, on the curve of his nose, where your lips are stamped on his cheek, how soft and welcoming his own lips look. His fingers brush your own and your heart is pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it.
“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice smooth and steady, as if sensing your hesitation.
You nod, your gaze flicking between his eyes and the hand now gently covering yours. “Yeah. Just… you make me nervous.” As soon as the words leave your mouth you want to jump out of the ferris wheel.
He chuckles softly, the sound halting your thoughts. “Ditto.” he remarks and you swear your heart stops as he leans closer, his voice barely above a whisper. His face is inches from yours, the space between you charged with tension. You could feel the warmth of his breath mixing with your own, the weight of his presence grounding you and making your head spin all at once.
And then, as though the universe decided it hated you, the car jolts slightly, the Ferris wheel beginning its descent. The tension clears, and you both laugh as it dissolves into something softer and more familiar. When you both reach the ground, Seungcheol offers you a hand as you step out of the gondola, not letting go until the two of you reach his car. 
Seungcheol opens the passenger door for you, his hand lingering on the frame as you step in. He waits until you’re settled, closing the door with a gentle thud before walking around to the driver’s side. As he slides into the seat, the soft click of the doors locking echoes in the quiet night.
The drive home is comfortable, the radio humming a mellow tune as the city lights streak past the windows. Neither of you speak much, but for once you don’t mind the silence, it’s comfortable, as if the events of the day are still settling in your minds. 
When the two of you finally arrive at your adjacent apartments, he turns to look at you.
“So,” he begins, his voice carrying that familiar teasing lilt, “did I live up to your standards of being ‘decent company’?”
You roll your eyes, biting back a grin. “I guess you weren’t terrible,” you reply, feigning nonchalance.
He chuckles, shaking his head as he leans against the wall. “I’ll take it. Progress is progress.”
The silence that follows isn’t awkward—it’s heavy with the weight of the day, the laughter, the quiet moments, and the words that neither of you seems quite ready to say.
“Well,” you finally say, your hand moving to the door handle, “thanks for today. I really needed it.”
Seungcheol doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the photo strip from earlier at the amusement park. He holds it out to you, his fingers brushing yours when you take it.
You glance down at the photos—the silly poses, the bunny ears, the surprised look on his face as you kissed his cheek—and your chest tightens in the best way possible. “Thanks,” you murmur, your voice almost lost in the stillness.
When you look back up, he’s watching you, his expression unreadable. He shifts, fingers lightly grazing yours.
“Hey,” he says quietly, his voice steadier than you feel. “If you’re up for it… we should do this again sometime.”
Your breath catches, and for a moment, all you can do is nod. “Yeah,” you manage, your voice soft. “I’d like that too.”
His smile grows, and for a split second, you think he might lean in, but instead, he squeezes your hand gently before pulling back. “Get some rest.” he says, his tone light but his eyes lingering on yours.
As you open your door, the apartment inside feels emptier than normal. You pause, glancing back at Seungcheol.
“Text me when you’re free,” he says, his grin now fully teasing. “Or, you know, just knock on the wall or something.”
You laugh, shaking your head as you softly close the door. Your heart races as you lean against it, the photo strip still clutched in your hand. You glance down at the images, your smile widening as you run your thumb over the glossy surface.
You were screwed—completely and utterly fucked—but for the first time in a long while, you didn’t mind one bit.
Jeonghan is late again, you’d think he’d learn to use his time better on Wednesdays but some things never change, you suppose. You sit across from Hao, sipping on your coffee as he eyes you suspiciously.
“So,” he begins, placing his tea on the table, his voice carrying that signature teasing lilt. “You went on a date.”
You nearly choke, coughing into your hand as you set your drink down. “Excuse me? How do you know that?”
He just smirks, leaning back in his chair with an air of triumph. “I was just guessing but you just confirmed it.”
Your jaw drops at his audacity. “That’s not fair—you tricked me!”
“Hardly,” he replies, stirring his tea with mock innocence. “You’re just too easy to read. So was it good?”
Before you can fire back, a familiar voice cuts in, smooth and teasing. “What’s this about a date?”
You turn to see Jeonghan strolling toward your table, his blazer slung over one shoulder and his hair annoyingly perfect, as if he’d stepped out of a magazine, not his office. He grins as he pulls out a chair to join you.
“Oh, great,” you mutter, sinking into your seat. “Now it’s both of you.”
Jeonghan raises a brow, clearly delighted. “Both of us? This sounds like a story. Go on, I’m listening.”
Minghao smirks, pointing at you with his spoon. “She went on a date.”
“Stop saying it like that,” you shoot back, narrowing your eyes at him.
Jeonghan’s eyes light up as he leans forward, resting his chin in his hand. “Ooh, let me guess, the new neighbor you told us about?”
You sigh, knowing you’re outnumbered. “Okay, okay fine. Yes, with the neighbor, and it was nice. That’s all you’re getting.”
“Nice?” Jeonghan repeats, feigning disappointment. “That’s all? Come on, you can do better than that. You haven’t been on a date in god-knows how long and all you can say is ‘nice’?”
“Why are you even here?” you snap, though you couldn’t help the laugh that slipped through.
Minghao tilts his head thoughtfully. “Was it ‘okay’ good or ‘planning another date’ good?”
“I’m betting it’s the second one.” Jeonghan said, his voice lilting. 
You groaned, dropping your face into your hands. “Why do I tell either of you anything?”
Jeonghan flashes his signature cheshire smile, nudging your arm. “Because we’re your favorite. Now, come on. Was there a spark? A magical moment? Did you trip over something and land in his arms? Don’t leave us hanging.”
“Nothing like that, you dork.” you respond, trying to hide your smile but failing miserably. “It was just... fun. Exciting. Better than I thought it would be.” Jeonghan and Minghao exchange a look, one of those silent, unspoken conversations that only the three of you could understand.
“Definitely planning date two,” Minghao says, deadpan.
You groan again, but the warmth of their teasing—playful and supportive—makes it impossible to be annoyed. “I hate you guys,” you mumble, though your laugh gives you away.
“And yet,” Jeonghan teases, raising an imaginary glass, “you keep us around. To your nice, hot neighbor for finally getting you out of your apartment!”
Minghao raises his tea to join in. “Cheers to that.”
Rolling your eyes, you clink your mug against theirs. “You’re both insufferable.”
“For sure,” Minghao says with a smile, “that’s why you love us.”
Weeks pass in a blur of updating your nosy friends and texting Seungcheol, soon enough you find yourself looking forward to his messages, giddy feelings replaced with warmth and comfort. The banter is light but always at the edge of something more lingering between every word.
Cheol: So u finally going to admit that you miss me?You: I don’t wanna lie to you Cheol.Cheol: You say that now, but wait until this weekend. You’ll be begging for more.You: Oh? What if I have plans this weekend? You know, being busy and all that.Cheol: Then I guess I’ll have to cancel my dinner reservations :(You: We can't have that can we?
The next message is an address and the words: 7pm
Saturday evening comes faster than you expected, and when you glance at the clock, the realization hits that you’re running behind. You rush to get ready, a mix of excitement and nerves churning in your stomach as you pick out an outfit matching the nice restaurant Seungcheol had sent you. You want to show him a side of yourself that’s more than you coming home or leaving for work.
You choose a dark red dress that hugs your curves in all the right places. The neckline dips just low enough, an elegant slit running up the side. Paired with black heels and a sleek necklace dangling almost dangerously low, it feels just right. You spend a little extra time on makeup, defining each feature and topping it off with a red lip that matches your dress. By the time you’re finished, you feel more confident than you have in a while.
A knock at your door sends a rush of adrenaline through your veins.You check the mirror one last time before stepping toward the door, trying to keep your composure.
When the door opens Seungcheol just stands there for a second, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. The intensity of the gaze almost has you feeling self-conscious, until you see the way his eyes take on a slightly glazed quality instead of the usual teasing glint.
“Damn,” he finally breathes out, his voice low and shaky. “You look… wow.”
You bite back your smile, feeling your cheeks heat up at his gaze. “Thanks,” you say, trying to act nonchalant, but failing miserably.
He steps closer, his gaze still lingering on you, and you can almost feel magnetic pull in the space between you. “I… ” His eyes flick down to your heels and then back up to your face, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “I might need to take a second to adjust.”
You chuckle, feeling the warmth of his hands burning your hips through the fabric of your dress, “Well, would you look at that? Choi Seungcheol is actually tongue-tied.”
Seungcheol’s grin widens, “How could I not be speechless when you look like that?”, he asks before taking your hand and leading you to his car. The ride is short, but this time, it feels different. The air between you is thick with anticipation, neither of you speaking much—words feel unnecessary when the moment speaks for itself.
When you arrive at the restaurant, the valet greets Seungcheol like an old friend, and you can’t help but notice the way he carries himself—confident, composed, like he belongs in this world. He guides you through the entrance, a small smile on his face as gently takes your hand.
The restaurant has an air of quiet elegance, the kind that feels effortlessly luxurious. The lighting is soft, casting a golden glow on the crisp white table-cloths, the flickering candlelight adding a comforting warmth. The faint murmur of conversation fills the background, but you feel as if the two of you are in your own little world.
Seungcheol pulls your chair out for you as you sit, and you can't help but feel a little overwhelmed by how natural he makes everything feel, despite the grandeur of the setting. You settle into your seat, your hand instinctively resting on the edge of the table, your fingers brushing the silverware as you glance around. The atmosphere is luxurious, yes, but there’s something reassuring about the way Seungcheol carries himself, like he’s right at home here.
Once the menus are set in front of you, Seungcheol doesn’t hesitate. He scans the offerings with a casual air but glances over at you as you study the menu in your hands. "Don't let the fancy setting fool you. The food here is surprisingly good. I’ve been here more than once.” he says, his voice smooth and low, the confidence he carries in all things evident in the casual mention.
You chuckle, glancing up at him. “Take a lot of your dates here, do you?”
Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, that signature smirk tugging at his lips. “Only one.” 
You can’t help the shy smile that spreads across your face, “Who would have known you’re secretly a softy.”
He leans forward slightly, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret. “I’ve got layers, princess. Lots of layers.”
The way he says it, so effortlessly confident, causes your stomach to flutter a lot little. You take a sip of your water, trying not to let him see how much he’s affecting you. “I’m sure. I bet you’re the life of the party at places like this.”
Seungcheol smirks and leans back in his chair, clearly pleased with your reaction. “I can be. But I also know when to appreciate the quiet nights. Sometimes it’s better to enjoy the little things.” His gaze shifts to meet yours then, a quiet intensity in his eyes. It’s a subtle change, but one that makes your heart race.
You swallow, suddenly acutely aware of his gaze. You glance at the menu again, though you haven’t truly registered anything on it. “I’ll take your word for it,” you manage, trying to keep your voice steady.
When the waiter returns to take your order, Seungcheol speaks for both of you, his choices seemingly effortless. You take the time to fully appreciate the man in front of you; the way his red tie is the same hue as your dress, how his white button up stretches across his chest giving an outline of a fit physique further supported in the way his sleeves strain against his arms. 
Seungcheol clears his throat, and you realize you’ve been caught red-handed, so you decide to just shrug because yeah, he’s hot. There’s something more serious about the way Seungcheol watches you now, his eyes tracing the curve of your neck, the way the candlelight plays in your hair. It’s as if the energy in the room has shifted, becoming a little more personal.
“I have to admit,” he says after a long pause, his voice softer than before, “I’m having a really good time.”
You laugh, but it’s not from nervousness. It’s a genuine sound. “You’ve been teasing me nonstop for days. I’d hope you at least had a good time after all that hard work.”
His lips curve into that familiar teasing smile. “I’ve been doing more than teasing. You just don’t realize it yet.” He tilts his head slightly. “I’m glad you came, though. Really.”
The words, simple as they are, catch you off guard. It’s one thing for him to be flirty, but for him to show this side of him, this quiet sincerity... you weren’t prepared for it.
Before you can respond, the drinks arrive—a crisp white wine for you, a rich red for him. The clink of glass as it’s set on the table draws you back into the moment. Seungcheol raises his glass, his eyes locked on yours. "To good company," he says, his tone earnest but playful.
You smile and clink your glass against his, the material cool against your fingers. “To good company,” you repeat, your voice just as soft.
The conversation flows easy after that, not forced, but natural. He talks about his favorite restaurants, his travels, and how he’s surprisingly fond of quiet nights. You find yourself opening up more than you intended, sharing stories about your childhood, what drives you, what you love most about your work. He listens intently, his gaze never wavering, his attention fully on you. As if every word matters to him, every sentence is important.
It’s hard not to notice how his gaze shifts from playful to something more thoughtful as you speak, his eyes locking on yours with an unreadable emotion that makes your breath catch every time. You don’t want to admit it, but his attention feels like a constant pull on your thoughts, something that you can’t seem to escape.
When your meal arrives, the soft clink of silverware against the fine china is the only sound for a moment. You both pause, then Seungcheol leans back slightly, eyeing your plate with a mischievous grin. “You’re not going to finish that, are you?” he teases. “I’ll be happy to help.”
You raise an eyebrow, shooting him a playful glance. “I think I’ll manage just fine.”
The two of you laugh easily over the shared dish, the comfortable intimacy of it all settling around you like a familiar blanket. It’s rare to feel so at ease with someone in this kind of setting, but with Seungcheol, it’s effortless.
At some point during dessert, Seungcheol reaches across the table and gently runs his thumb along your hand. The motion is slow, deliberate, and for the first time, he’s not teasing. His touch is softer, and his eyes—god those eyes—hold a sincerity that has you feeling like you’re the only person in the room–in the whole world even.
“You know,” he murmurs, “I’m really glad you agreed to come out with me tonight.”
You hum, feeling a flutter deep in your chest. “So you’ve mentioned.” 
After a moment you respond again, “I am too.”
You both sit in silence for a moment, the tension between you now wrapping around your mind and dulling the outside world. The soft clink of glasses, the quiet hum of the restaurant, the distant murmur of conversations... it all fades into the background.
Finally, after a long moment of simply looking at each other, Seungcheol stands and walks around to your side of the table, offering his hand. “Let’s go,” he says, his voice low but steady.
By the time you’re at the door to your apartment, the tension between the two of you is almost suffocating. You invite him inside, and Seungcheol takes a deep breath, “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself back.”
And when you lean close to his ear and tell him then don’t, it’s like floodgates open. Seungcheol shuts the door behind him, crowding you against it as he leans close to you, hands finding your hips and breath warm against your ear. “Do you even know what you’ve been doing to me all night?” he asks, voice so low it's almost a growl.
You smile, hands trailing up his torso to wrap around his neck, “I guess I clean up well.”
Seungcheol chuckles darkly, experimentally squeezing your hips,  “Too bad I’m gonna get you all dirty again.”
When he tilts your chin up to meet his lips, you expect the kiss to be hungry, as desperate as he has you feeling, instead Seungcheol kisses you slowly, tenderly with a sweetness rivaling ambrosia. Your arms wind themselves around his neck, pressing yourself harder against him as if even a second apart would be painful because, quite frankly, that’s how kissing him felt. He takes his time to savor each brush of your lips on his, each sigh that you breathe into his mouth.
Seungcheol looks absolutely ruined. His pupils are blown out, hair messy with your hands in it and red lipstick smeared on his swollen lips. You’re sure you don’t look much different, as the two of you crash back together at the same time. This kiss is how you expected the first to be, hungry, desperate, and hard.
Even when your lungs burn for air your lips chase after him when he separates from you, pupils blown out, hair messy, your lipstick smeared across his mouth, Seungcheol looks absolutely ruined. 
The only thing you can hear is breathlessness before you’re tangling your fingers into his hair to crash your lips together again. Seungcheol presses into even more, hands pushing against your door as he intoxicates you once more. The kiss isn’t soft this time, lust taking over and pulling the two of you into each other. His hand moves to your jaw, switching the angle and taking away any last bit of brain function you have because even when kissing you with such passion Seungcheol still isn’t rough with you. He kisses you with a confidence and control that has you whimpering into his lips.
The sound clearly affects him, his tongue prodding at your lips and a small breath leaving him when you open your mouth further. He starts exploring your mouth as his hands move to explore your body, sliding up and down your waist to your thighs, where he squeezes before lifting you up seemingly effortlessly. 
“Your room?” Seungcheol murmurs into your mouth. You break apart from him once again, hands on either side of his face, forehead resting against his. “Same layout as your apartment.” You recall, resuming the kiss once more as he carries you over to your bed, gently setting you down on the edge.
He drinks the breathy sound that leaves your mouth when his fingers find the zipper on your back, slowly drawing it down and caressing each new plane of skin revealed to him. You lift your hips, helping him get the dress fully off your body and thrown somewhere on the floor. You try to pull him in closer to you but Seungcheol is frozen. You wiggle impatiently and he just shakes his head at you, a breathy laugh leaving his kiss swollen lips.
“Be patient baby, let me appreciate you, fuck.” The last word comes from a deep place in his chest, an almost guttural sound as his hands gently trace up your legs, hips, waist, settling just below your dark red lace bra that matches your now discarded dress. He looks at you with an awe equal to that of meeting a deity, as if he’d never seen anything more captivating and never will in this lifetime. His gaze makes you flush because you’re just you, sure you put on a pretty matching set but even then you didn’t think he’d be this into it. You apparently verbalize your thoughts unintentionally because Seungcheol looks up at you once more, this time gaze filled with disbelief.
“Just you? Just you? God, you really don’t know how beautiful you are, do you, princess?” The nickname causes a shiver to go down your spine, his hands gently as they move behind you, unclipping your bra. “So perfect, so pretty for me.” His words are accompanied by his hands slowly massaging your now bare chest before he dives into you, mouth ravishing every inch on your skin as he pulls sounds from you. Your fingers find their way to his hair, tugging when he nips at your skin. After thoroughly stealing your breath his lips start making their way down to where you need him most. His nose presses against your core causing an embarrassingly depraved whimper to leave you.
“Fuck princess, you’re so ready for me,” he says as he pulls your panties away from your body, holding them up for you to see the ruined fabric. You don’t have time to think about them as he starts to leave hot open mouthed kisses on your inner thigh before dipping his tongue ever so slightly into your weeping hole. Your hands tug slightly on his hair and seemingly break whatever resolve he has as he starts to devour you. He knows exactly when to slow down, licking your cunt up and sucking in ways that have your head spinning. Your insides clench around nothing, leaking arousal as his lips wrap around your clit. He drinks all of your juices, his tongue collecting your wetness like water. 
When he focuses his tongue on your hole, prodding timidly inside you as your walls beg to be stretched, your hands tug harshly at his hair, making him moan right into your cunt, as if he’s enjoying the pull of his hair as you use him for your pleasure. Your orgasm approaches at the speed of light, quicker than you’d ever thought a man could pull from you.
You spasm with each swipe of his tongue that gets faster as he notices how close you are. When he decides to focus on teasing your clit, something snaps in you and you come undone on his tongue. 
He practically makes out with your cunt, stretching out your orgasm and making your legs tremble at his sides. You can feel the big smirk across his lips through your pleasure-induced haze. He doesn’t move away even when you start to feel over stimulated, you tug on his hair.
“You can give me one more, right princess?” He looks like something straight out of a porno, mouth covered in you, hair messy between your fingers, how could you possibly resist such a sight, especially when his finger runs up and down your entrance teasingly.
“Please” is all you have to say before he disappears once more between your legs. His fingers start to stretch out your walls, tongue lapping up any juices that escape. The pounding of his fingers inside you drag you close to the edge faster than before, and when his fingers graze one spot you’re seeing stars.
“There, right there fuck Cheol please–” your words get cut off by a breathy moan as he sucks on your clit, vision going blurry as you come on his fingers. When you’re coming down from the high, you watch as he takes said fingers and licks them clean with a groan, “You might just be my new favorite meal, princess.”
Your eyes roll at the comments as you shakily climb to your knees, earning a raised eyebrow from Cheol as you grab his shirt to pull him towards you, “You’re looking way too clothed to be saying that right now.” You mutter, making quick work of his buttons. His laugh turns into a groan when you press a kiss to his neck, sliding his shirt off of him and running your hands across the expanse of his torso. His muscles are firm and defined, and you don’t resist the urge to bend over and softly bite his chest, reveling in the choked sound he makes. His hands grab your head, pulling you into a wet kiss as you pull at his pants and boxers, sliding them down his legs to free his hard cock. As you look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, long, thick, deliciously curved, this man will be the end of you. 
Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips. A whimper escapes you, and Seungcheol hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, princess. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he thrusts his hips up, causing your movements to stutter as you gag. “You can take a bit more, yeah?” his question ends with a groan, his fingers tightening on your hair. 
You lower your head further in response, taking in another more of him. His hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair.
“Fuck, just like that baby, want you to choke on it,” his voice is gravely and low, the sound going straight to your core. The tip of his cock hits the back of your throat and your eyes start to water. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure.
“Fuck my throat,” you beg ask, “Please”
A smile dangles on the corner of his lips as he guides himself into your mouth, smirking at how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “Well since you asked so nicely.”
You whimper around him, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. Suddenly he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with a sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. He crashes his lips to yours in response before pulling away suddenly.
His eyes widen as he looks around, suddenly looking frantic, “Shit, condoms. Stay here, I’ll quickly get dressed and run to my–”
“Are you clean?”
Seungcheol’s eyes go wide at your suggestion before slowly nodding, “I got tested last month, you’re not suggesting…” His voice trails off.
Have you ever let anyone hit it raw? Absolutely not. Did you have the patience for him to go to his apartment and grab condoms? Also absolutely not.
“I’m on birth control, clean, and way too fucking horny for you to be anywhere except inside me.” You state blankly. He shakes his head in astonishment before climbing on top of you, kissing you once more. 
“God, you’re perfect.” he sighs, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks at you one more time for approval. “Ready?”
“Please— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head slides inside you, eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. He barely pulls out before fucking into you with a little more force.  “Shit, you’re so tight, fuck.”
“Cheol please,” you gasp, not quite sure what you're asking for when you latch onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. You’ve never felt this full in your life as Seungcheol waits for you to adjust, pussy spasming around him in ways that make his eyes roll back. When you give him the okay he pulls out slowly, so you can feel every vein as it drags on your walls before he fucks back into you.
His pace starts to get faster and the sounds from both of you sound straight from a porno, but you don’t care because all you can think about is how good his dick feels inside you, how full you feel. From this position, you can see the way his face contorts in pleasure, brows furrowed and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips and sucks hard. “Fuck princess, you’re so perfect shit– pretty pussy made for me, huh?”
“For you,” you pant, thoughts reduced to just the feeling of him inside you. “All for you Cheol.”
His mouth curves into a soft smile as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Seugcheol’s hand slides down to grasp your hip, squeezing the soft skin and pulling you harder against him, impossibly closer. 
“You’re perfect princess, my perfect pretty baby,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he repeats, more to himself than to you, voice strained as he tries to hold himself back, chasing your release before his own.
The pressure inside you builds up, tightening, and you’re sure you look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, but the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Cheol, I’m—” 
He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you baby, let go for me. I’ll take care of you,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall (thank god his room is the only one next to yours). Your body obeys him, a gast tearing through you as you moan Seungcheols name like a prayer. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, fucking you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, his expression as wrecked as you feel. “Tell me where—.”
“Inside.”
“Shit, are you sure?”
“Fill me up Cheol, please. Want it so bad.”
He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. He buries himself inside you, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls. He ruts against you, his body trembling against yours before he collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms and kissing you gently. You almost cry when he slips out of you, hating the feeling of being empty as he finds your bathroom and returns with a towel to clean you up, eventually lulling you to sleep.
The first thing you register when you wake up is warmth— you soft sheets tangled around your limbs, the lingering scent of cologne woven into the fabric. The second thing is weight, the steady rise and fall of a chest beneath your cheek, an arm draped around your waist, fingers splayed possessively over your hip.
Your eyes flutter open, and for a moment, you’re disoriented. The golden morning light filters through the curtains, casting lazy patterns across the room, but it takes another second for reality to catch up.
Seungcheol.
His presence is unmistakable, the solid warmth of him anchoring you even before you tilt your head up to look at him. His face is relaxed in sleep, soft in a way you don’t think you’ve seen before. His lashes rest against his cheeks, lips slightly parted, one hand still gripping your waist as if unconsciously keeping you close .
You take a slow breath, careful not to wake him just yet, allowing yourself the luxury of watching him like this. The confidence he always carries, the sharp smirks and teasing remarks—none of it is present in this moment. Right now, he’s just Seungcheol.
Your fingers move instinctively, tracing the curve of his nose, the contour of his lips. His grip on your waist tightens slightly in response, and you hear the low, raspy sound of his voice.
“Mmm.” A deep inhale, then a groggy mumble. “It’s too early.”
You laugh softly, then for a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your breathing, the quiet of the morning stretching between you. His fingers skim along your spine absentmindedly, tracing patterns into your skin. It’s dangerously intimate, this kind of quiet closeness, and you find yourself holding your breath as you wait for him to say something.
When he finally does, his voice is softer than before. “Did you sleep well?”
You nod against him. “Yeah. You?”
His thumb brushes over your hip, slow and deliberate. “Best sleep I’ve had in a while.”
There’s something unspoken in his words, something that lingers between the two of you, but neither of you address it. Not yet. Instead, you stay like this for a while longer, wrapped in each other. Eventually, though, reality has to creep back in. You sigh, shifting slightly. “We should probably get up.”
Seungcheol groans dramatically, pulling you tighter against him. “Or we could just stay like this.”
You laugh, pushing at his chest again, this time with more force. “You have things to do, and I—”
“—have to stay here and cuddle me,” he finishes smoothly, peeking one eye open again and giving you a peck on the lips. “Sounds like the perfect plan, right?”
You roll your eyes but don’t immediately pull away, allowing yourself one more stolen moment of peace before finally sitting up. Seungcheol watches you, his gaze heavy-lidded, filled with something you can’t quite name. Then, just as you’re about to move off the bed, his hand catches your wrist, stopping you.
You glance back at him, and his expression is unreadable for a beat before he smirks, tugging you down just enough to brush his lips against yours.
“Morning,” he murmurs, and it feels dangerously close to something more.
You swallow, the weight of the moment settling over you, but instead of overthinking it, you smile. “Morning.”
A week later you find yourself lying in the same bed, missing the man who had laid with you. The two of you haven’t seen each other since—your schedules never quite aligning—but the texts haven’t stopped. If anything, they’ve only gotten more frequent and flirtatious.
Cheol: You avoiding me or just giving me time to miss you? You: Are those the only options? Cheol: Unless you’d rather admit you can’t stop thinking about me. You: You’re so full of yourself. Cheol: And you love it.
You hate how much you do love it.
You turn and nearly walk into two people standing in the hallway.
“Whoa—careful,” a deep voice says as a steady hand catches your elbow.
It’s Seungcheol. Of course, it’s Seungcheol. He’s standing in front of you, that familiar grin spreading across his face. Standing next to him is a man you instantly recognize—Wonwoo. His calm, sharp features are exactly as you remember, though he seems a little more refined since college. You school your expression, feigning polite curiosity.
“Hey,” you manage, adjusting your grip on the bag.
“Hey yourself,” Seungcheol says, his grin widening. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Uh, I live here,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light despite the sudden thumping in your chest.
Wonwoo clears his throat, glancing between the two of you. “Cheol, are you going to introduce me, or should I do it myself?”
“Right.” Seungcheol gestures toward him. “This is Wonwoo—friend, buddy, compadre, if you will, and frequent pain in my ass. Wonwoo, this is…” He pauses, “Her.”
Wonwoo raises an eyebrow but extends a hand to you. “Nice to meet you, ‘Her.’ Or, nice to see you again, I guess.”
You laugh, shaking his hand. “Nice to see you too. I’d remind you of my real name, but apparently Seungcheol forgot it.”
“Hardly, you’re the only thing he’s been talking about recently. You were friends with Kwan’, right? I think I crashed your study sessions a few times.”
The mention of Seungkwan brings a smile to your face, he’s now roommates with Jeonghan, even though he’s grown so much since you first met him the younger boy will always have a special place in your heart, “Yeah probably, he always had someone tagging along with him. That kid was a real social butterfly.” Wonwoo opens his mouth to respond but Seungcheol cuts him off.
“Yeah, great, glad you guys are close.” Seungcheol crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his head as he studies you. ”Small world and such.”
Your stomach twists slightly, but you keep your expression neutral. “Yeah, crazy coincidence. It’s almost like we went to the same school.” you say sarcastically, “So, what games will you be playing today?” 
Seungcheol narrows his eyes at you, “Who said anything about playing games?”
You swear your heart stops at that moment.
“Oh-uh,” Think, think, think, “Well the walls don’t do a very good job at masking your swearing at night, just assumed that’s what was going on.” 
Wonwoo, ever the observant one, stays quiet, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—like he’s connecting dots that you’d rather he didn’t.
“Sure,” Seungcheol responds, still watching you closely. “Anyways, we should get going.”
You nod, stepping back toward your door. “Yeah, it was nice seeing you both. I should put these away before they melt.”
“Uh huh,” Seungcheol mutters, stepping aside. Wonwoo simply nods politely, his expression calm but unreadable.
Once inside your apartment, you set the groceries down with a sigh, your mind racing. You didn’t slip up that bad, right? At least you had covered your mistake pretty well? Still, there was something about the way Seungcheol looked at you– like he was trying to piece together a puzzle– that left a sinking feeling in your stomach.
Another few days pass before you hear from Seungcheol outside of the usual teasing texts. You’re curled up on your couch when your phone buzzes.
Cheol: So, are you going to keep eavesdropping through the walls, or are you finally going to come over and play?
You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.
You: Who says I want to play?
Cheol: You wound me. But fine, if you’re too scared to lose, I understand.
You: Oh, please. Like you could actually beat me at anything.
Cheol: Prove it. Tonight. My place.
You hesitate for a moment. It’s one thing to comment on him playing games, but actually playing with him? You can’t be sure you won’t slip up again. But then again, you can’t let him think you’re scared.
You: Fine. What time?
Cheol: 8. Wonwoo will be there. And a few others. Don’t be late.
You stare at your screen for a moment before shaking your head. There’s no way this is a good idea, but you’re already getting up to change.
At 8:03, you knock on Seungcheol’s door. He opens it almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for you.
“You’re late,” he says, pouting slightly.
“It’s literally been three minutes, you big baby.”
“Three minutes too long.” He steps aside, letting you in. “Come on, the others are already here.”
His apartment is warm and filled with an easy kind of chaos. Wonwoo is lounging on the couch, a controller in hand, looking perfectly unbothered as he glances up at you. “She showed.”
“She did,” Seungcheol confirms, closing the door behind you.
At the other end of the room, four other guys are gathered, already deep into conversation. Seungcheol gestures toward them. “These are the guys. That’s Jihoon—" he points to the one sitting cross-legged on the floor, focused on a laptop. Jihoon barely glances up, offering only a short nod. “Vernon—” the boy next to Jihoon gives a small wave, expression relaxed. “Mingyu—” the tall one grins and throws an arm around Seungcheol’s shoulder. “And Soonyoung.”
Soonyoung—who you recognize from random campus events back in college—immediately brightens. “Wait, I know you! You were friends with Seungkwan, right?”
You laugh, nodding. “Yeah, that was me.”
“Small world, huh?”
Seungcheol claps his hands together. “Alright, now that introductions are out of the way, let’s get down to business.”
“Games,” Mingyu supplies helpfully.
“Winning,” Seungcheol corrects, looking directly at you.
You raise an eyebrow. “You wish.”
He grins. “We’ll see.”
The first game is an intense round of Mario Kart, and to no one’s surprise, Wonwoo dominates. “You guys suck,” he mutters as he crosses the finish line first yet again (as if you and Seungcheol weren’t on his tail the whole time).
“Okay, okay,” Seungcheol says, waving a hand. “Let’s switch it up. How about teams?”
You find yourself paired with Jihoon, who simply shrugs. “You ready?”
You smirk. “Let’s kick some ass.”
“Hell yeah.”
The match starts, and it’s immediately clear that Seungcheol is more competitive than he let on. The room is filled with laughter, shouts of victory, and groans of defeat. Soonyoung nearly falls off the couch at one point, yelling dramatically when your car pulls ahead of him.
Through it all, you feel yourself relaxing, the nervous energy from earlier fading away. When you glance at Seungcheol, he’s already watching you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he grins again.
As the night stretches on, the games gradually give way to easy conversation and laughter, drinks appearing in everyone's hands. Mingyu pours shots for everyone, insisting on a toast to new friends, while Soonyoung—already a little tipsy—challenges Jihoon to a battle of wits (which mostly consists of Jihoon sighing heavily while Soonyoung rambles on).
You find yourself nestled into the couch, comfortably warm from the drinks, the buzz of conversation wrapping around you. Seungcheol drops down next to you, draping an arm along the back of the couch. “Having fun?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.
You let out a quiet laugh. “Guess you’re not as unbearable as I thought.”
“High praise.” He grins, taking a sip from his glass.
Eventually, the night winds down, one by one, the others heading out or claiming their spots to crash for the night. You stretch, standing up to grab your things. Seungcheol watches you with an amused glint in his eyes. “Need someone to walk you home?”
You raise an eyebrow, a huffed laugh leaving you. “What, for the whole two feet I need to walk?”
“Exactly,” he says, standing up and smirking. “Wouldn’t want anything to happen to you in the five steps it takes to get there.”
You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips as he walks you to your door anyways. As you turn the key to your apartment, you look back at him, maybe it’s the alcohol in your system, or maybe it’s the confidence from meeting his friends that has you leaning up to place a soft kiss on his lips, “Goodnight, gamer boy.”
You realize your mistake the next morning, hoping he didn’t.
Still, life goes on, months pass by with you and Seungcheol seeing each other but never giving what you have a label. Your affection for the man starts to pile more by the day along with your guilt, feeling as if you’re betraying him with every brush of your skin on his. Tonight you’re curled up comfortably by his side, his TV playing some rom-com in the background as the two of you feast on fried chicken and soju, a perfect evening. You don’t know when your conversation became talking about your childhood, but you don’t care as Seungcheol tells you a story of the messes he got into with his older brother.
“You’ve always been a trouble-maker haven’t you?” you exclaim, kissing the tip of his nose. He giggles, humming in response and you admire the way it makes his face light up, warming your heart. Everything is so perfect, the way his arms wrap around you, the way the alcohol makes your brain slightly fuzzy. How he presses kisses all over your face as you laugh, finally getting a real kiss pressed to your lips as he lays you down on his couch. Sweet, gentle, and full of an emotion you don’t want to name. When he pulls back the same emotion fills his eyes.
“I really like you, you know?” he says shyly. You nod in response, smiling up at him. “We should make things official then, yeah?” You’re about to nod when the guilt you’ve been suppressing comes back stronger than ever, “I- I’m sorry.” You tell him. Before he can question you further, you stand up, rathering your stuff, “I’m really sorry Cheol.” You say once again before leaving his apartment, too drunk and too scared to face him.
The next day, as much as you try to avoid him, you run into Seungcheol in the hallway and he stops you. His teeth worry at his bottom lip, brow furrowed, “We need to talk about last night. Did I do something? I thought we– I thought things were going well but– just.. Tell me what I can do. Please?”
His words shatter any resolve you had to keep things from him.
“I know you stream.” the words fall from your mouth and make the man in front of you go ridged, “I mean, I’ve watched you a few times– more than a few– I found you a few months before you moved in and didn’t really know what to do.” You wring your hands together, too nervous to look him in the eye.
A few moments pass before he replies, “So what, you just planned on never telling me? Even after we started hanging out? After we… after everything?” His voice sounds defeated, broken. You shake your head but no sound comes out of your mouth. What could you say? Had you ever planned on telling him? You never knew things would get this far, if you did would you have told him sooner. You can feel Seungcheols heavy gaze on you, prompting you to speak, “I— I don’t know Cheol. I’m really sorry I just- I don’t know.”
He nods in response, and you can practically feel your heart drop, “Give me some time.” Is all he says before walking away, leaving you feeling empty.
Another week passes without a word from Seungcheol. Then another. Guilt is eating you from the inside, you don’t know what Seungcheol is thinking, if he’ll ever talk to you again. You can’t say you’d blame him if he didn’t. Once again at work you start slipping up, eventually Minghao decides that enough is enough. 
“Spill, now.” He says when you take your usual seat across from him. You try to convince him to wait until Jeonghan arrives but he’s firm in his insistence.
“Tell me what's going on, from the beginning. No lies, no excuses, no ‘I’ll figure it out on my own’ bullshit.” And so you do. You start from the beginning, Jeonghan's recommendation, the comfort it had brought you until your new neighbor appeared, the dates, the late-nights, the avoidance. You spill your guts out and Minghao listens. When you finish your tangent he just shakes his head.
“I know I’m an idiot Hao, but what was I supposed to do?” You defend yourself, from what exactly, you aren’t sure. Your throat starts to tighten and Minghao places his hand atop yours on the table, “Hey, it’s going to be okay. You’re overthinking it.” He talks the panic out of you like he has so many times before, guides your breathing and soothes your nerves.
“Just because you’re an idiot doesn’t mean you can’t fix things.” His statement makes you laugh, his hand squeezing yours reassuringly. “Trust me, I’m sure you and your little gamer boy can work things out. Just tell him the truth, the same way you just told it to me.” You nod in response. The rest of the break the two of you talk like you always do, laughing and jabbing your coworkers as Minghao just rolls his eyes at you. 
“Y/n?”
Your name from across the room breaks the comfortable bubble you’d been in with your friend. Seungcheol stands a few feet away from your table, betrayal evident in his eyes. You stand up to go towards him, but his scoff makes you stop in your tracks. He turns on his heel and walks out.
“What are you doing? Go after him, dumbass.” Broken out of your trance you hurry out the door, ignoring how the cold wind bites at your skin, your jacket left behind you. Seungcheol’s back is towards you as you chase after him, grabbing his arm and forcing him to face you.
“Wait a second, I-” 
You’re cut off when he yanks his arm from your grip. Your chest aches when you see the look in his eyes. It’s unfamiliar, the face of the man you once found comfort in contorted into something else, something that scared you.
“Don’t start with me Y/n,” his tone is harsh, cutting through the cold air straight into your chest, “I trusted you, you know that? I really trusted you, I thought- it doesn’t even matter because you turned out to be the same as everyone else. This is all, what, some sort of twisted game? You wanted to get into my life and have a piece of me like every other crazy bitch that watches me, right? Well congradu-fucking-lations, you win. Your sick game is over now.” His eyes looked at you, filled with anger, betrayal, hatred, “And to think, after I started to believe that maybe, just maybe you had a reason to lie to me, that you actually cared about me, I see you with another guy. You can’t even go one week without finding a new boy-toy to play with, can you? You’re just another attention-seeking whore.” 
His words hit you like a slap in the face. Here you are, freezing your ass off to try and explain yourself all for what? Finally all the emotions that have been boiling under the surface start to bubble over, “Excuse me?” Your voice comes out dangerously calm, seemingly stopping Seungcheol’s next sentence. 
“First of all,” you clarify, “you’re the one who moved in next to me, let's not get things twisted. And yeah, I didn’t tell you I knew who you were, you wanna know why? Because the first time I saw you it looked like you were about to have a nervous breakdown because I recognized you. Of fucking course I said I knew you from college, I wasn’t about to make you more uncomfortable than you already were! I haven’t watched a single video since that day out of respect for you and your privacy. You are the one who kept talking to me, you are the one who asked me out, you are the one who kept doing things that would make it impossible for me to not start falling for you. A whore? I’ve been so worried about you that I make stupid mistakes in the simplest fucking tasks at work and my coworkers started to get worried, my friends started to get worried. So I finally tell them what's going on and when they convince me to come clean and explain everything to you, you decide to jump to conclusions. You can say whatever you want, Choi Seungcheol, but don’t you dare think for a second that I don’t care about you.” Hot tears stream down your face, but you don’t care, the words come pouring out from you, and you watch as Seungcheols expression morphs from anger, looking away before you can see what it turns into. His hand reaches out for yours but you pull away, not looking at him because you know if you do it’ll change your mind. “I hope you can find an attention-seeking whore to play with Seungcheol because I can’t do this. Not anymore.”
When you return to the cafe, Minghao doesn’t scold you for letting your emotions control you, offering instead to cover for you so you could go home but you refuse. Because what is home, you think, without Seungcheol. 
You stay at Jeonghans for the next few days, calling out sick from work to instead watch dramas with Seungkwan. He doesn’t question your sudden appearance, nor the tears that fall whenever the drama leads would interact, which you’re thankful for. He gives you a steady shoulder to cry on and a reliable source of laughter to cheer you up. The two of you are currently huddled under a blanket, watching as Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams run towards each other in the rain. Your hands are holding his tightly under the blanket as you both squeal when they kiss. When the movie ends tears stream down both of your faces and Seungkwan bumps your shoulder lightly, “Whatever you’re going through must be serious, you never cry during The Notebook.” 
You roll your eyes at his statement, laughing along with him as you turn the T.V. off. He turns to face you, suddenly serious and you know what's coming.
“You’re not kicking me out, are you?” The smile accompanying your joke doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and Seungkwan notices with a sigh.
“You know I would never, but you also know you can’t avoid going back forever. Eventually you’ll need to go back to your apartment.” He gives a pointed look at your too-big hoodie and sweats courtesy of Jeonghan. “Listen Y/n, you know I love you but–”
“I know Kwan’, I know. I’m just scared. Even if I know you’re right. I don’t think I’m ready to face him yet.” You cut him off, tears welling in your eyes once more. Seungkwan clasps your hands in his.
“Remember my senior year when I had a mental breakdown and called you at ass-O’-clock in the morning?” You nod, the memory vague but there. He continues, “I went over to your house and told you I was scared, that suddenly everything felt so real with job applications, interviews, and graduation getting closer. I didn’t know what to do, I wasn’t ready to be an adult yet and suddenly life was being shoved in my face and I didn’t know how to cope. Do you remember what you said to me?” A small smile forms on your face among the tears, Seungkwan giving you a reassuring one in response.
 “There are some things you’ll never be ready for, but the clock still ticks and the Earth still spins, no matter how terrified you are. You just have to do it scared.” 
You recite the words with him, words your parents had told you when you were eighteen and unprepared for college life, words you lived by since then, that had gotten you through your darkest times and happiest moments. Words that you had somehow lost in the chaos of adulting. 
You wipe your face on your sleeve, small laughs replacing your sobs as you look at your lap, “Thanks Kwan.” 
You don’t need to say anything else, he knows, like he always does. Like all of your friends always do because at the end of the day no matter how tough things get you will always have an amazing support system full of amazing friends. No man could change that, no amount of distance could break the bond your little entourage have. Because they, you realize, are home.
Seungkwan wraps you in a warm embrace as you tear up some more, not sad this time. The two of you rock back and forth for a while before pulling away and making eye contact. 
“Tomorrow?”
“Can’t we wait until the weekend?”
“Fine, you stubborn pain in the ass. Saturday. Morning.”
You groan in response but don’t bother to hide the smile on your lips.
Saturday morning comes faster than you’d like. The moment your eyes flutter open, reality crashes into you like a wave, heavy and unrelenting. For a fleeting moment, you consider burying yourself deeper into the blankets, pretending that you could stay in Jeonghan’s guest room forever. But Seungkwan’s words from the night before echo in your mind. You just have to do it scared.
With a deep breath, you push yourself out of bed. Jeonghan is already in the kitchen, sipping his coffee with an all-knowing smirk when you walk in. "So, today’s the big day, huh?"
You roll your eyes, reaching for the mug he’s already set out for you. “You act like I’m about to get married.”
“Considering the dramatics, it might as well be.”
You groan, dropping your head onto the counter. “Can you not?”
Jeonghan chuckles, patting the top of your head before walking away. “Just rip the bandaid off, Y/n. You’ll feel better once you do.”
You’re not sure about that, but you know he’s right.
By the time you reach your apartment complex, your heart is pounding so loudly that you can hear it in your ears. The familiar hallway feels foreign, your feet carrying you toward your door on autopilot. You turn the key in your apartment door, the familiar creak of the hinges sounding louder than usual in the quiet hallway. The space is just as you left it—dim, still, and eerily empty. It feels foreign, like you don’t quite belong here anymore. Maybe because, for the past few days, you didn’t. With a heavy sigh, you drop your bag by the door and toe off your shoes, making your way to the couch. The exhaustion from carrying the weight of everything settles into your bones. You lean back, eyes fluttering shut, trying to steady your breathing.
It takes a few days for you to settle back into your apartment. At first, everything feels too quiet. You find yourself reaching for your phone to text Seungcheol before remembering the way things ended. You distract yourself with work, with cleaning, with anything to keep your mind from wandering to the ache in your chest. But no matter how much you try to push it down, it lingers.
You haven’t seen him since that night. You don’t expect to. Instead you go back to how things had been before he moved in, ignoring the ache in your chest whenever you hear him through your thin apartment walls. 
Some nights, you lie awake, staring at the photo you had taken with him on your first date, wishing to go back in time. You listen to the faint sounds of his life bleeding through the walls, wondering if he does the same, or if he threw the picture away all together. The murmur of his voice on the phone, the clink of dishes in the sink, the low hum of his TV. It’s almost cruel how easily he seems to slip back into routine while you feel like you’re unraveling. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. That you’ll get used to it. But the silence in your own apartment is deafening, and the space he left behind feels colder than it should.
You start wearing headphones more often. It helps, a little. Drowns out the ghost of his presence. Keeps you from wondering if he ever pauses, mid-conversation, mid-laugh, mid-breath, thinking about you. You don’t let yourself hope.
But late one night, when you’re standing at your sink rinsing out a mug, you hear it—your name. Soft, hesitant. Muffled by the wall but unmistakable. Your breath catches, fingers tightening around the ceramic. You wait, straining to hear more. A part of you wants to move closer, to press your ear against the wall, to pretend that he’s just on the other side, that nothing has changed. But then you hear footsteps, the creak of his door opening.
And then nothing.
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You tell yourself it was nothing.
But you don’t wear your headphones that night.
The next morning, you wake up with the imprint of your phone against your cheek, the playlist you put on last night long finished. Your first thought is that you dreamed it—his voice, his hesitation. That your mind is just playing tricks on you because it wants so badly to believe he still thinks about you.
But then, as you move through your morning routine, you catch yourself hesitating near the front door. You don’t know why. Maybe it’s the weight in your chest, the feeling of stepping into the world once again without him waiting to greet you. You push the feelings aside.
When you finally open the door, you nearly step on something– small and familiar, sitting right in the center of your doorstep.
Your scarf.
You freeze. Your fingers twitch at your sides.
The scarf you’d left at his place weeks ago, back when you still had a place there too. It’s neatly folded, like he took care with it, but there’s no note, no explanation. Just the scarf. You swallow hard, your fingers tightening around the fabric as you pick it up. It still smells like his apartment, like the faint trace of his cologne, like something that used to feel like home.
You stand there too long, cold air slipping into your apartment through the open door, numbing your fingers, your face. Your mind races with all the possibilities—did he find it by accident? Did he mean to leave it for you himself? Did he hesitate, just like you are now?
You don’t know what to do with it.
So you do what you always do—you tuck it away, shove it into the depths of your closet like you can bury the feelings that come with it.
But that night, when you curl into bed, your hand drifts toward the closet door. Before you can stop yourself, you pull the scarf back out. Hold it in your lap. Press it between your fingers. Like maybe, if you close your eyes, you can pretend—for just a little while—that you never had lied to him in the first place.
The scarf stays on your nightstand after that. You don’t wear it. You don’t even move it. But you don’t put it back in the closet, either.
It’s stupid, you tell yourself. It’s just fabric. Just something that happened to be left behind. He probably didn’t think twice about it. He was just returning something that wasn’t his, nothing more.
You keep going to work, settling disputes with coworkers who seem to have nothing better to do than fight (you ignore the way you almost reach for your phone to listen to Seungcheols voice as you work).
You keep meeting Jeonghan and Minghao on Wednesdays, occasionally Seungkwan joins the three of you (you ignore the way they glance at you with pity).
Everything is where it’s supposed to be (you ignore how everything you do feels like it’s missing something).
It’s late, and you’re lying in bed, not really asleep, not really awake. The walls between your apartments have always been thin—thin enough that sometimes you can catch pieces of his voice, low and tired, when he’s on the phone late at night.
But this time, there’s no conversation. Just footsteps. The sound of a drawer opening, then closing. A pause. And then, so quiet you almost miss it—your name.
Your stomach twists.
You tell yourself it was just in your imagination, don’t let yourself dwell on why he might have said that because he didn’t (you ignore how you know that’s a lie).
The next morning, you wake up feeling like you never really slept at all. Your body is heavy, your mind clouded with something you don’t want to name. You go about your day like normal—like nothing happened. Like you didn’t hear him say your name. Like it didn’t send a crack through the carefully constructed distance you’ve been trying to build.
But it lingers.
You don’t mean to, but you start listening to him more. Not on purpose—at least, that’s what you tell yourself—but your ears tune in anyway. You notice the little things: the way he moves around his apartment, the late nights he stays up, the mornings he leaves just a little later than he used to.
And then one evening, when you step out of your apartment to grab something from the corner store, you nearly run into him.
You freeze.
So does he.
For a moment, neither of you speak. He looks… tired. Like he hasn’t been sleeping well either. Like maybe he’s been feeling the same weight pressing down on him. Your throat is tight. You should say something. You should walk away.
But then his gaze flickers, just briefly, to your door. To you.
When he starts to turn around Seungkwan’s reminder rings in your head.
Do it scared. 
And before you can stop yourself, before you can think better of it, his name slips past your lips, “Seungcheol.”
His breath catches.
You take a deep breath to steady yourself, “We should talk.”
Seungcheol freezes, hand hovering above his door knob for a second before dropping to his side. When he looks up at you his eyes are full of so many emotions it makes your heart ache; shame, regret, hurt, hesitation. It almost makes you change your mind, but then you see it, the tiniest sliver of hope behind his gaze, that helps you keep going, inviting him into your apartment. He hesitates before entering, you walk in after him, closing the door.
Seungcheol doesn’t sit, so you don’t either. Instead, you stand near the couch, gripping your hands together to keep them from shaking. It’s silent for a moment, you aren’t used to his presence anymore.
“I meant what I said before,” you begin hesitantly. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
His gaze flickers with something unreadable. He responds softly, voice sounding almost broken, “Then why didn’t you just tell me?”
You exhale, the numbed frustration and regret rising again in your chest. “At first I thought it wasn’t important, you were just my neighbor, and you looked nervous when we first met so I figured you’d rather stay anonymous. But then we started to get to know each other and suddenly I was keeping a huge secret and I didn’t know what to do. I-,” You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and stop your rambling, “I was scared. I didn’t want to ruin whatever this was—whatever we were. I thought if I told you the truth, you’d push me away.” You let out a small, humorless laugh. “Looks like I managed to do that anyway.”
Seungcheol sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. “You should’ve given me the chance to decide how I felt about it instead of lying to me.”
You nod slowly, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. “I know,” you whisper. “I should’ve told you the truth. I should have done so many things differently, but I didn’t, and I hurt you.” You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to meet his eyes even though it makes your stomach twist. “I’m so, so sorry.”
Seungcheol looks at you, nodding, “Me too. For what I said.”
“Don’t worry, I get it, you had every right to be mad.” You protest. 
He flinches, shaking his head. “Not like that.” His hands ball into fists at his sides before he sighs, running one through his hair. “Yeah, you should have told me. And yeah, it hurt. But what I said to you?” His jaw clenches. “That wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve that.” His voice is thick with guilt, his brows furrowed in frustration—at himself, not at you as he looks away. “Did you- when we would be together who were you thinking of?”
You tilt your head in confusion, so he elaborates, “I guess what I’m asking is if you just thought of me as S.coups, if you thought it was just another game.” When he meets your gaze once more it’s as if all the confidence was drained from him, he looked unsure, raw vulnerability in the way he bites his lip and wrings his hands together. 
“It was never a game, not for me at least. To me you’ve always been Seungcheol, even when you first moved in, I didn’t really think about your job other than being worried that I would make you uncomfortable by knowing. Even when I’d watch you play, when you were having fun you were Seungcheol playing games like you used to during class. On days you didn’t seem as into it you were Seungcheol doing your job.”
You hear Seungcheol inhale sharply as you continue, “Back then and now you mean so much to me, I never meant to hurt you, but I did. And I don’t expect you to forgive me just because I apologized. If you still hate me that fi–”
You’re cut off by lips on yours, gentle and nervous until you kiss back. After so long it feels like the world finally clicks into place, a hand sliding into yours gently as your tears mix with his.
When you separate Seungcheol’s hand grips yours tightly, eyes still closed as if he’s scared you’ll be gone when he opens them. “I don’t hate you, Y/n.” His voice is softer now, barely a whisper. “I never did.” This time you lean into him, pressing your lips together once more. His free hand moves to cradle your face, yours lightly gripping the front of his shirt. Muttered ‘I missed you’s are scattered between kisses as you make your way to the couch, placing yourself on Seungcheol’s lap when he sits. Neither of you can help the tears on your faces. 
After who-knows-how-long you’re still in Seungcheol’s embrace, his strong arms wrapped around you, drawing slow patterns on your back as the two of you sway back and forth gently. His heartbeat is steady beneath your ear, a quiet rhythm that makes you feel like you can finally breathe easy. You don’t know how long you sit there, tangled together on your couch, his arms around you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go. Maybe he is. Maybe you are too.
“Thank you. For coming back.” Seungcheol murmurs into your hair. His voice is soft, careful, like he’s afraid of saying too much, of pushing too hard.
You shift slightly, just enough to look up at him. His eyes are still damp, lashes clumped together, and the sight of it twists something in your chest. “Always,” you whisper. “I’ll be here as long as you still want me.”
His breath shudders as he exhales. “I do.” He presses his forehead against yours, voice thick with emotion. “Always did, always will.”
You close your eyes, soaking in the warmth of him, the weight of his hands resting at your waist, grounding you. “No more hiding. No more running.” you say softly.
Seungcheol nods, his grip tightening like he’s holding onto something fragile. “No more running,” he agrees. For a while, neither of you speak. You just exist in the quiet, in the warmth of each other, letting the weight of everything settle. Eventually, Seungcheol chuckles, breath fanning against your cheek. “I don’t want to move,” he admits.
You smile, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “Then don’t.”
His lips twitch into a grin. “You’ll let me stay?”
You pretend to consider it, tilting your head. “Depends. Are you planning on stealing all the blankets again?”
Seungcheol laughs, the sound vibrating against your skin. “No promises.”
You sigh dramatically. “I suppose I’ll allow it.”
His arms tighten around you, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to yours. “Good,” he murmurs. “Because I don’t think I can let go just yet.”
Neither do you.
“You ready to lose again?” Seungcheol asks, raising an eyebrow, the usual playful confidence in his voice.
You roll your eyes, scoffing. “In your dreams, Cheol.”
It’s silly, how normal it is, how easy it was to slip into the rhythm of this again. Your friends around you in his apartment, all laughing and having fun.
"Hoshi, I’m going to kick your ass!" Seungkwan yells from across the room, his voice high-pitched with mock frustration.
"You've got a lot of nerve talking, considering you're in last place," Soonyoung teases back, his grin wide and infectious.
"I can’t believe we’re playing this game again," Mingyu groans dramatically, even though he’s clearly enjoying himself despite the complaints.
"You’re just mad because I hit you with a shell. Like this," Jihoon shoots another shell at Mingyu’s cart, the corner of his lips curving upward as he hears Mingyu’s swears.
Seungcheol laughs, his usual confidence shining through as he skillfully handles his character. Every now and then, his hand would brush yours, and in those moments, it felt like time had slowed just enough for you to savor the simple joy of being surrounded by friends—by family.
"You’re about to lose!" Jeonghan said, voice full of amusement as he leaned over to look at the screen.
Seungcheol shot him a mock glare. "You’re not even playing."
But despite the teasing, the tension was long gone. No more waiting for the right moment to speak, no more hiding. It isn’t perfect—nothing ever is—but it's real. And that's enough.
You lean back against the couch, your head resting against Seungcheol’s shoulder as you pull into fourth place with a groan.
Seungcheol leans in, nudging your shoulder lightly with his. “So, when do you plan on winning?” he teases, his grin wider than before.
You glare at him, but the corners of your mouth betray you, lifting into a smile you can’t fight. “I’ll win when I’m good and ready, it’s not my fault my boyfriend is a professional.” you reply, your voice playful as you pout at the man in front of you. He laughs and presses a kiss to your lips, “Boyfriend, huh? You’re trying to use my weaknesses against me aren’t you?” You look up at him with the best innocent face you can manage, “That depends, my dear, is it working?”
“Maybe.”
“Ugh, get a room, you two.” Seungkwan’s complaints cause a wave of laughter as Seungcheol just pulls you closer into his side, sticking his tongue out at the younger boy. The teasing continues for a while longer, but you can feel how the warmth in the room isn’t just coming from the shared space or the game. It’s the laughter, the familiarity, and that makes a smile spread onto your lips. No distance, no walls. Just warmth, joy, and the comfort of being surrounded by people who cared. People who you knew would be by your side through thick and thin because the clocks still tick and the Earth still spins, time moves forward with them by your side to move with it.
A/N: Wooo she’s finally done!! Thx @orngejuic for being my beta reader ilysm.
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okwonyo · 3 months ago
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﹙ ✉️ ﹚ ── NIGHT AFFECTION. in which ⸝ 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌.
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엔하이픈 ⠀ ੭୧ ⠀ fem!rea 1100 non-idol au fluff established relationship ˊᯅˋ pet-names skinship kissing ⠀, receuil . . .
분지 ܃ rewriting a old work because why not :0
reblogs ⠀ꢾ꣒ ⠀ feedbacks please
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HEESEUNG
he is never ashamed to ask for the things that he want. whether it’s the remote when he is too lazy to get it himself or a compliment for something he has done; he always asks. 
he is not ashamed nor subtle about needing that good night kiss. and to emphasize on his point, he is not going to let you go to sleep until your lips connect with his.
he flops on top of you, his chest pressed against yours as well as his entire weight. “i can’t sleep,” he whines while you try to get him off of you. he bugs you, “i will die, kiss me.”
soon enough, he comes to find his position weirdly comfortable. he rearranges himself so he can hide his face in the crook of your neck, “i won’t get up until you kiss me,” he mumbles.
you laugh at the way his voice gets slowly quieter as be speaks, your boyfriend is already dozing off. he is already half asleep when you give him what he wants.
JAY
his reaction is quite funny. to him, it feels like his entire world crumbled in slow motion, right in front of his wide opened eyes. his goodnight kiss it is that important to him.
he doesn’t realize that he is staring at you. unintentionally, he is stuck in place without looking at anything but you, without even blinking once. he doesn’t realize that he is not laying down at the same time as you do, that is boring holes into your soul. 
realization only hits him a few seconds after you turn off the light. “babe,” he calls you hurriedly, tapping your form in fear that you would fall asleep without him receiving his act of affection.
you turn around, turning on the light in an almost panicking and downright confused. he smiles fondly, “didn’t you forget something, princess?”
seeing that you genuinely don’t know what is happening and that you are almost falling asleep, he kisses you himself.
JAKE
he is already tucked in bed, teeth freshly brushed, skin shining due to his nightly skin care routine and he feels comfortable here, enveloped like a tacos in the covers. 
it just feels too good, falling asleep after receiving a loving kiss from his beautiful girlfriend. he is so, so shocked when he realizes that you are not going to kiss him tonight. his eyes grow wide, his mouth falls agape. 
he mimics the look of a kicked pupil as he watches you get under the cover without even giving him a glance. 
he ponders, for a long moment, whether he should kiss you himself or just let it go. he is stays silent in hopes that his mind will successfully telepathically share his thoughts with you. 
“doll,” he whisper, getting closer to your ear. “can you give me a kiss, please?”
SUNGHOON
the lack of his before-sleep loving affection would leave him all sour faced. he wouldn’t hide it either, he is annoyed and kiss deprived.
you catches his face while you are getting ready to close your eyes. but his eyes digging holes in your skin makes you laugh out loud. he looks like an angry cat. 
you beat his chest playfully and with the softest giggle he has ever heard, and which makes his face arbor a more tender expression, “what’s wrong with you?”
shyness overtakes him when you laugh like that, he ends up avoiding your eyes as he fidgets with the covers. you study him for a moment until you realize what you’ve forgotten.
his cheeks are tainted with pink when you hold his chin between your index finger and your thumb. he leans in, closing his eyes and sigh when you kiss him.
SUNOO
he is bothered by it. to an extent that is a tad bit laughable. he finds himself utterly offended, downright shocked— he doesn’t have the time to be subtle about it. at all. 
this is how you are supposed to say goodnight. when it’s time to drowse, a kiss is needed. even when you are apart, the kissy face emoji or a flying kiss behind your phone’s camera is necessary. 
in all honesty, you are confused about his change of demeanor, given the fact that he was all smiley a few minutes prior. you find him with a small pout weighing on his pretty lips and don’t hear the things that he is grumbling under his breath. 
there is no way that is falling asleep without what he wants. and he is in disbelief when he realize that you forgot. and instead of reminding you, he just huffs as he lays down with his back facing you. 
he really does try to act like he doesn’t care, but after a dozen seconds in the dark, he trunks around and whisper, “hey, aren’t you forgetting something?” 
JUNGWON
he could tell you. he tap your shoulder sweetly, watch you turn around as you wait for him to talk and tells you that you forgot his before-bedtime smooch, but he doesn’t. 
of course, he takes it as an invitation to play with your mind a little, to make you curious, to make you wonder under his pleased gaze. 
a bit before you turn off the light, he speaks: “you forgot,” with the context swallowed in his throat. it rings your curiosity instantly, and you don’t want to sleep anymore. 
“jungwon,” he scoots closer to your circle of warmth. in the silence, he wraps his arms around you in the act of a loving embrace. “jungwon, what did i forget?” 
he laughs when you push him away slightly to get his attention. in lieu of an answer, he decides to get his kiss on his own. 
RIKI
he watches your every move. he follows you everywhere in the house, from the living room to the bathroom, to the bathroom to the bedroom. it is as if he is your shadow. 
you want to laugh every time you turn your gaze to his direction, seeing how impatient he is for that goodnight kiss. he looks like he has never been kissed before.
his world crumble under his feet when you decide to withhold the kiss and purposely ignore his presence. a frown draws itself on his mouth as well as on his eyebrows. 
silent treatment is what he gives you as a form of revenge. but he wants to kiss you really bad, you know. perhaps, his little vengeance doesn’t last very long because he jump when he hears he words, “i’ll find something else to kiss then!” coming out of your mouth. 
he attacks you with wet kisses all over your face as a gentle punishment. 
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aftertheleaving · 30 days ago
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Not A Threat
Pairing: Damian Wayne x Reader
Genre: Light humor, fluff, slow-burn setup(kinda), soft enemies to lovers(again kinda), workplace antics
Warnings: swearing, caffeine abuse, reader is unbothered and slightly feral, Damian is suffering (but not really), no plot just vibes
Notes: for @ur-mums-house, who is my sleepy muse and deserves a fic where Damian gets emotionally steamrolled by a tech intern. Anyway I totallyyyy didn't find this while scrolling through all my drafts that I never posted (this is like from forevrrrrr ago when i told myself i'd start posting but never did). 🙃
1, 2, 3
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You’re halfway through your fourth energy drink and at least eight hours into the worst debugging sprint of your life when you crack into a corrupted server cluster and find a file labeled:
"batcave_logs_alpha / GraySon_Phase02 / CodedAssets_v3"
Your first thought is:
Oh my god, they named a prototype ‘Grayson’? What is this, an anime?
Your second:
Cool. More dumb WayneTech documentation. Maybe I can finally go home.
So you click it.
And twenty seconds later, after bypassing a laughably weak encryption key (seriously, who still uses birthday codes?), you’re staring at a directory full of what are clearly mission logs. From vigilantes. Who operate out of a cave. With bats.
You lean back, sip your drink, and sigh.
“Well. That explains so much about this company.”
You don’t tell anyone—not because you’re scared, but because you’re underpaid, overworked, and Jenkins is still crashing. You simply do not have time for Batman’s extracurriculars.
Which is why, when you return from lunch the next day and find Damian Wayne himself waiting at your desk like a final boss, you groan out loud.
“You accessed a restricted directory,” he says flatly.
You drop into your seat. “Congrats. Want a cookie?”
He stares. “That information is classified.”
“So is the state of your backend infrastructure,” you reply, pulling up your terminal. “Your firewalls are like, held together with duct tape and prayer. You’re lucky I didn’t accidentally trigger a missile.”
He’s silent for a beat. You look at him, smirk creeping across your face.
“Oh wait,” you say, “I’m supposed to act shocked, right?”
You cup your hand around your mouth and whisper dramatically, “You know who.”
Damian visibly restrains the urge to walk into traffic.
“I’m not gonna tell anyone,” you assure him, typing lazily. “I’m too busy fixing Jenkins and wondering if I can make rice in a coffee pot. I have bigger problems.”
“…What is Jenkins?” he mutters.
“A CI tool,” you say. “It breaks. Constantly. Like you, apparently.”
He mutters something in Arabic that you think is an insult, but you’re too caffeinated to care.
“Besides,” you say, grinning, “You’re kinda short for a terrifying vigilante.”
“I am five-foot-five.”
“Sure”
A few days later…
You see him again, lurking in R&D like a disgruntled gargoyle.
You walk right up to him. “I have an idea.”
He immediately sighs. “No.”
You grin and hand him a rolled-up blueprint. “It’s a modular shock baton with thermal sensing and EMP shielding. Built it on my break. While eating a sandwich.”
He unrolls it and—you see the exact second he realizes it’s actually… good. Really good.
“This is—” he starts, then stops. Glares at you. “You should not be this capable.”
“Aw,” you say, patting his shoulder, “is that your way of saying thank you?”
“I said no such thing.”
“You did in spirit.”
“…Why are you like this?”
You smile, eyes glinting. “You’re fun to mess with.”
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I think I’m actually dying. I was working on a Tim fic, minding my business, and then I got a comment from ur-mums-house and genuinely tweaked. Like. Fully spiraled. So then I went rummaging through the massive (for some reason??) collection of fics I’ve written and never posted, searching for anything Damian-related for ur-mums-house—and now here we are. Okay. Gonna go back to working on my Tim fic now. Bye bye 👋 .
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mattsfavoritestar · 10 months ago
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NEVER BE LIKE YOU, chris sturniolo
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synopsis… (based on this ask ) or in which you used to treat chris terribly in highschool, now you’ve graduated and matured but you weren’t the only one who’s changed
warnings… mentions of bullying, rough sex, semi-public sex, degrading, edging, overstimulation, mean!chris, former bully!reader, creampie, perv!chris if you squint, unprotected p in v (WRAP IT B4 YOU TAP IT)
@bernardsbendystraws for the dividers <3
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you used to tell yourself that you would never go for matt and nick’s little brother. yes, you know that they are triplets but chris always seem’d so childish and annoying in your eyes. he used to trail after you like a pet and make stupid flirty comments or compliments.
you thought that chris sturniolo was thee most aggravating person to walk the planet. yet here you were staring at him from across the room. you nudged your friend, “hey when did chris get so cute?” you whispered. your friend shot you a deadpanned expression then rolled her eyes. “after graduation, guess he decided to do the whole glow up thing” she responds.
chris used to be the scrawny kid with messy short hair. now his curls framed his face in a godly way and whenever he moved a certain way, his muscles and veins flexed. you also noticed that when you walked into the house, he didn’t even acknowledge you like he used to.
“why do you care?”
“hm?”
“i said why do you care anyways, didn’t you used to hate him or some shit?”
you shrugged your shoulders. no secret that you used to practically torture the poor boy as if he was some servant or lapdog. chris used to do literally anything if it ment you would reward him even if the gift was as small as allowing him to hold your hand for five seconds. it was laughable at the time the way he acting like a wounded puppy whenever you got mad at him for the slightest thing.
your heart started racing when he looked up and stared dead into your eyes. those blue eyes that you used to not care for now made your body feel heated and achy. you broke contact as you felt your thighs squeeze for some type of relief. “m’gonna go to the bathroom” you mumbled to your friend as you got up.
you looked over yourself in the mirror. you always took pride into your appearance, a habit that stuck since high school. you turned around and opened the door but was shocked when met with chris looking down on his phone.
“uhm, hey” you quietly say causing him to look up at you. a small smirk appeared on his face as he turned his phone off and leans onto the door frame. “hi” he replied. you tried going past him but was pushed back into the bathroom. chris closes the door behind him with the lock without breaking eye contact.
“what are you doing” you say cautiously ask as you look between him and the door. chris shrugs, “just thought i’d talk to you for a sec” he says. as chris walks closer to you, you walk backwards till your back brushes the sink. chris traps you with his hands on either side of you as he looks down with a mischievous smile.
“never thought i’d see that day where little miss royalty would get so nervous around me” he laughs. your breath started to pick up as he leans down closer and closer till your lips brush. you squealed in surprise when chris roughly turns you around so you were leaning on the sink with your back facing him.
you felt him breathing down your neck as his hands lightly trailed down your sides. you let out a sigh and let your head drop back onto his shoulder while your eyes closed. chris starts chuckling then removes his hands. “remember when you used to make me do your homework just so i could sit next to you?” he asks.
you opened you eyes and look at him with a sad expression. “m’sorry for treating you like that back then” you say in a small voice. chris roughly grabs your waist and pushes you off him. you gasped as you felt him bring your hips to meet his growing bulge. “i saw you staring at me earlier” he says, “didn’t know you let yourself go enough to want to fuck a loser” he sneered. you frowned to yourself at the memory.
“be serious for a second chris. i’d never fuck a loser like you” you laughed.
you couldn’t lie, you were a regina george back then. chris was such a sweet guy to you too, he always treated you like a princess even though you already had the royal status at school. you were his number one priority and you took advantage of that. you used him back then. now it was his turn to use you.
you bit your lip to hide the moan as chris grinded your lower half’s together. “chris everyone’s out there” you reminded him. chris laughs, “don’t be loud then. unless you want them to hear you act like a whore” he taunts. your dress was pushed up and your laced underwear was yanked down.
“who knew your clothes could get even more slutty after high school” chris grumbled. you always wore clothes that would be at the brink of the dress code. now that those bullshit rules can’t effect you, you wore even more revealing stuff whenever you didn’t have any important place to go to.
your breath hitched as you felt his thumb swipe the arousal from your folds. you looked up to the mirror infront of you as you saw chris suck his thumb off with a groan erupting from his throat. “waiting so long to taste you” he whispered. he brought his hand back down and inserted two fingers into your dripping cunt as he bit his lip.
you moaned as you locked eyes with him in the mirror then brought your hand up to cover your mouth. chris smiled as he worked his fingers in a rapid pace, not caring for how hard it was for you to keep your voice as low as possible. you rolled your eyes to the back of your head as you felt a knot forming in your stomach.
but chris saw your pleasured expression. he yanked his fingers out of you and slapped your ass. you whined at the lost feeling then whimpered as you felt chris get a tight hold on your hair, yanking your head back. “you don’t deserve to fucking cum” he grunted in your ear.
chris pulled his pants and boxers down, just enough to release his aching cock. a sigh of relief fell from his lips as he stroked himself slightly. he lined himself up to your wet hole then pushed in with slight aggression. a muffled moan left your mouth as you tightened the hand that covered it .
you heard chris breathing heavily and felt his fingers dig into your skin. he moved his hips slightly as if he was testing the waters meanwhile you were using his delay as time to try adjusting to his size. chris was definitely bigger than any other guy you fucked and you were starting to regret not taking his offer for a date two years ago.
as soon as chris decided that he was ready, he rocked his hips slowly then picked up the pace. his thrust were aggressive. harsh. needy. as if he wanted to fuck his anger into you. but also can’t get enough of you. you had one hand trying to balance yourself on the sink counter while the other still covered the moans and whimpers that fell from your lips.
“waiting so fucking long to stretch this pussy” he groans. somehow the aggression grew more rough and since chris was already a bit too big, it felt like he was abusing your cunt. you took your hand off your mouth then reached back to try to push him away. chris laughs as he roughly pins your hand onto the counter.
“are you trying to run from me? thought this is what you wanted” he snarled, “i always give you want you want, don’t i? fucking spoiled brat” his voice was laced with venom. you felt your eyes water but couldn’t tell if it was from pain, pleasure, or regret.
“mhm chris!” you squealed as you felt him brush your cervix. you caught a glimpse of his face, a smile as he bit his lip while watching you through the mirror. “‘member when you called me a whiny bitch? look at you now, crying on my dick” he laughs. you close your eyes as the vivid memory flashed into your brain.
“but you promised” he mumbled. you rolled your eyes, “don’t tell me you’re gonna cry you whiny bitch” you mocked.
“m’sorry! m’so sorry!” you cried. your knuckles grew white as your grip on the counter tightened. the familiar knot in your stomach reappeared, this time even tighter than before. “ch-chris! gonna cum!” you warned. his cock didn’t stop ramming into your now puffy cunt. “yeah? gonna make a mess on me?” he muttered.
you nodded repeatedly as you felt your self at the brink of an orgasm. your vision went blurry with white splotches as you felt yourself release on chris’s cock. “t-to much..” you tried saying in shaken voice. you couldn’t even breathe properly, it felt like he was rearranging your guts. the overstimulation was overwhelming but fuck it felt so good.
it finally dawned on you that this wasn’t for your pleasure but his. chris was actively using you as a sleeve to wet his dick and to get back at you for all those years. you felt him pull you closer as if he was hugging you from the back. you felt his sweaty forehead touching the back of your neck.
“finally get to fill you up- fuck” he moaned as you found yourself coming to your second orgasm. with the rest of your strength, you slammed your hand onto the counter as you felt yourself somewhat peeing on him. you heard chris whimpering as he tightened his hold on you and tried pulling you closer.
a series of curses left his mouth as his load pumped into you with sloppy thrust. you couldn’t help letting out a loud moan as chris gives you one final harsh thrust before pulling out. you felt your knees buckle after chris removes himself from you. you watched through your wet lashes as he fixes his clothes and pockets your underwear.
as chris exits the bathroom, you tried lifting yourself up with the help of the counter. you felt the thick sticky mixture of your fluids and his load dripping out of you. through the crack of the door you heard matt telling chris that everyone else left to get food then asked why you both took so long to which chris replied by saying ‘you needed help in the bathroom’.
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navydoves · 3 months ago
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I know we aren’t supposed to be doing this, but…
✎ᝰ summary: you’ve fallen for the enigma prince xavier and the enigma prince xavier has fallen for you. there are certain rules and expectations put into place for royals like you two, but rules are uptight and both of you want to overstep those invisible boundaries to get closer to each other.
✎ᝰ cw: first time/virginity loss for both, lowkey yearning/pining, fluff/smut, xavier is needy, xavier is a lover boy, slow burn, sensual, royals getting friskaayyy, lots of praise, no Y/N ✎ᝰ wc: 12.6k
✎ᝰ a/n: xavier is my main so i’m trying to do him justice here with my ass writing skills. a lot of the dialogue is very conversational, you'll see what i mean. also not proof read very well so pls excuse mistakes, i’ll make changes as i find them 😢
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castles were dreary. people gawked at the tall spires of his home, pointing and taking pictures to preserve the moment they were graced by the presence of the philos royal family. it was laughable sometimes, how commoners and civilians revered the crown without knowing how suffocating it actually was.
yet, to xavier, he saw it as nothing more than his life duty, his reason of birth, the sole reason of his existence, it was to be suffocated. but he made do.
soldiers trained from puberty had no other direction in life than to fight and bleed, and they made do.
forgers took years to mine and quarry within deep caverns, battling off beast eating men only to go back home and scrape their fingertips off just to make weapons. no blacksmith ever complained, they made do.
even those born modestly within domestic walls and loving families sometimes succumbed to the tragedy off illness or crime but had no other choice but to make do. so xavier, born with a diamond spoon in his mouth while covered in scarfs of stain, the only heir to the philos throne, had to make do too. his life was built with the promise that he would gain great power and true nobility once his time came, and until then, the world had to wait on him hand and foot to assure that in every singular way possible, he was ready to rule. just because it was suffocating meant nothing, not when you had such security in your life. he built this mature mindset from young age, and he was often praised for his ability to suck things up and deal with it. it was an unspoken rule of being a royal. you deal, you accept, you fight, you rule, simple.
this frustrating way of living was what he had to deal with every single day of pompous life. the rest of his existence felt mundane and scripted, bound with endless vexation until he perished. and to think that would be hundreds upon hundreds of upon hundreds of years from now. but, if he never breathed in the first place, how could he become suffocated? this wasn't torture, it was normal. yet, despite it all, he started feeling differently. no revelation woke him up in the middle of the night to tell him the truth of his destiny and no mage showed up at his door to guide him on a mystical journey to find the contentment he never knew. no, it was much simpler than that; it took something much simpler to make him feel differently.
a face... a voice, a person all together. a new addition in his life that broken his monochromatic mindset and added a bit of vibrancy. people often say that someone brightened up their life when meeting someone special, but the blinding xavier could say that someone for once dimmed his vision so he could see properly. all he saw was light at the top of his tower, but slowly, his vision became less distorted as he became more grounded. your face, your voice, was what was grounding him.
from the day you met at an impromptu gala, hosted by xavier's parents to encourage liveliness in the city after prolonged battle, to you and him finally holding each other's hands away from prying eyes, he felt a weight lifted off his shoulders. nothing about his future or obligations changed, so it almost shocked him how easily dread left him whenever he was with you. you must be that powerful, he thought.
a familiar fluttering sensation of his heart was present every time he thought of you, and that feeling was only amplified whenever he got the chance to see you in person. letters served terrible in capturing your true eccentricity and wonder but that's all he had to live on when he could think of no excuse to invite you over. you lived several kingdoms away and the time it took to prepare travel to and fro felt unnecessary and unfair to the both of you when you had busy schedules. on top of that, neither of you wanted to let your hovering parents know that you had actually taken a liking to another royal. the drama, gossip, and rumors it could cause your families would potentially break you two apart and that was the last thing either of you wanted.
but today was xavier's lucky day, as well as yours. a few families from more isolated areas were invited to spend the next few days with the philos royal family as a way to discuss trade routes through their kingdoms. thankfully, your family was one of the few invited for the part of the week. so rather, it was xavier's lucky day for the next several days. when the news broke to him it took everything in his power to not grin widely at his parents. he was usually a stoic to them so breaking that face would cause for interest he didn't want.
behind closed doors, however, he spent his time meticulously planning out an outfit for each day you would spend in his castle. he knew your favourite colours, and whether they complimented the rich purple that was his family's colour or not, he would make it work. this was him making do, in a sense. today he wore his signature regal purple suit with blue accents, the fabric, woven from the finest silk and velvet. his tailored doublet was also rich in color and clung to his form, adorned with intricate gold stitching. he wore a low collar trimmed in blue velvet which matched the same shade of blue on his leather belt, tightened around with a gold buckle embossed with his family crest. the pants were similar in style and embraced the same regal purple, with gold stitching that went down to his noir, shiny shoes. xavier never felt the need to impress anyone until you. people were already impressed with just his presence alone, but he wanted to impress you in a way that made your eyes only look in his direction, only see him.
he fixes the collar of undershirt one last time before deciding he looked presentable enough for you. his heart had that familiar erratic rhythm that always reminded him how you've changed him, and he couldn't adore it more. with a small amount of anxiety in his stomach, he steps out his dressing room to greet the servants who patiently waited from him out in the hall. he had to shoo them away to mend himself for once.
xavier gives them a polite smile as they begin to lead him down the wing of the castle and into a neighboring wing where most social activities were held. he could already hear the gentle murmurs and small bouts of laughter that came from the several families that was gathered with his own. the flutter in his heart and the anxiety in his stomach only grew stronger as he neared the adjacent door of the ballroom and then flared when he caught a glimpse of you by your family. your family's colour was blue, there was a reason his suit had these accents today. xavier steps in and is immediately greeted by several nobles who did nothing but be pretentious in their greetings. it was second nature to humor them and mingle for a bit, but today he was less patient, more determined. he wriggled around a few families, throwing in a few shallow bows and smiles before he got up to your mother, a short woman with much indignation running through her veins. xavier gave her a much more polite, venerated greeting than anyone else that day, but it was only to find his way to you, the girl a few feet away and chatting with a king from some western kingdom. when your eyes catch his presence for a moment a tingle erupts in your stomach. god, how you waited for him. you excuse yourself from the conversation with the king and turn to xavier, fully, a shy smile growing on your lips while you bow to him. "prince xavier, i was waiting for you," you chirp.
xavier only stares for a few moments, his eyes tracing over your form and the beautiful modest blue dress you were wearing. he smiles tenderly. "drop the formalities princess," he hums, "it's just you and i here." you chuckle softly and shake your head.
"well, actually, there are several others here." "to me... it's just you and i." you blush and sigh. you always knew xavier to be a bit of a flirt but lately, both in letters and in person, he's been upping the ante and testing the waters between the two of you. you found it exhilarating. he gently reaches out and lazily caresses the side of your hand with his finger before quickly pulling back. it was the most he could do at the moment without being too obvious. "i told you to just call me xavier, nothing more." "i know... but if someone overhears our informality then... you know we can't do that with our families near." "i want to hear you call me my name, though." "later." "when is later?" "why are you so stubborn?" "because you deal with it and because you like it." you felt your mouth go still into silence at his words. both statements were true. you dealt with his stubbornness, and you also liked dealing with it. it was quite the opposite from the courteous personality xavier had with everyone else, so you almost reveled in his juvenile antics. he smirked slightly and leaned in carefully while focusing his eyes on yours. "i guess i'm right."
you turn your head to the side and away from his. his teasing proximity made a gentle heat rise up into your cheeks and the sight of your flustered state made xavier flustered himself. he pulls back and clears his throat before averting his gaze awkwardly. he wasn't sure what to say when his heart felt like it would come out of his throat, but thankfully you spoke instead. "i believe my mother and i are staying in the east wing of your castle for the week. despite my visits, i haven't seen those rooms until now." you remark while turning your gaze back to xavier. he notices your attention on him again and reciprocates. "those rooms are usually reserved for when we have guests sleeping over. since you've never actually had a visit longer than a few hours... you've just never seen those areas." you nod in acknowledgement and smile. "do you think... we'll be busy for the week?" you ask softly. xavier eyes take a hard blink at you, as if you said something incredulous, and he takes a moment to respond. "what do you mean?" "like... with the meeting on trade routes and such. since our parents do most negotiations and commerce, you think we'll be just as busy?" oh, that's what you meant, he thought. xavier rubs his lips together and considers your words in his head. his parents don't usually force him into meetings that weren't absolutely necessary. they had a good sense of trust that whatever xavier needed to do would be done-and they were usually right. although, xavier had a rather strange feeling that that trust would be more-less betrayed this week, given the beautiful distraction before him. "i hope not. i wasn't the one who called for this gathering so i'd like to play as little part in it as possible. i'd rather spend my time with you." "what if i'm always in meetings and i play a big part in the gathering?" xavier's lips twitch into a small smile. "then i guess im right there with you."
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feasts were one very good way of welcoming people into your home, and royals knew that best. the kitchen had had already prepared a lion's den worth of meals for the day, and only that day. only the stars above knew how much time and effort they put into making fresh cuisines and delicacies for a royal's sensitive palate. they made do. xavier watched as several servants rushed out from the halls with trays of food balanced in their palms, ready to arrange them onto the oakwood tables in the dining room. he and his parents were the first to arrive to the dinner ceremony to ensure everything was up to par for a social gathering before the next few days of work. the scent of various steaming dishes filled the air of the room, which made for an invitation to anyone who walked by.
smoked salmon, vegetable terrine, roasted lamb, truffles, brie, even sparkling champagne that was harder to come by nowadays due to import issues was served. many different meals were laid out onto the three lengthy tables within the dining room, a true refined look and very warm welcome to the multiple guests. xavier's parents already took their seats at the end of two of the three tables, and xavier's seat was already designated to be at the end of the third table. but instead of sitting already, like his parents, he stood idle as he waited for the families to start rolling in for dinner, he wanted to ensure that you would sit next to him. he feigned fixing his clothes for the sake of not getting a small scolding, but that bluff didn't have to lost for long as nobles started pouring in.
chatter and distraction were already beginning but xavier had his eyes set on finding you, finding your gentle blue beauty in the midst of all the colours piling up at the door. and when his eyes finally laid on yours from across the room, he smiles. the time separated from you these past few hours since your mingling in the ballroom felt like an ache to him and just like magic, it was gone now.
and despite the various empty chairs before you, when you caught eyes with him, you automatically knew to where to sit. in poise, you walk around the other two tables with your hands delicately to your front. you knew xavier was practically staring at you but you couldn't hold such prolonged eye contact like he could sometimes. "evening," he whispers once your form was right next to his. he takes the sides of the chair next to his throne and pulls it out for you before gesturing you to sit. "this is your spot, don't leave for your mother." the straightforwardness of xavier's words already make you flush for a little bit and you could see the sudden apologetic look in his eyes. "sorry, i didn't mean that rudely. i just... would like you to be near." you laugh softly and squint your eyes at him rather affectionately. without hesitation, you took a seat in the chair he pulled out for you and then look up at him. your quietly adoring eyes made xavier feel a little weak, and it was only then he decided to sit. "no worries, i take no offense. besides, i see my mother too often and you not as often enough. i'll take advantage of the time we have together."
you look at the array of dishes splayed out in front of you on the table and suddenly feel a bout of hunger within your stomach. traveling and socializing was no easy feat and took more out of you than you would like to admit. xavier noticed the way you eyed the aromatic food before you, but he could barely manage to speak any words due to the thumping of his heart. you were so beautiful in every right. you were so colorful to him. so warm. you dimmed everything before him and forced him to only focus on you. you shifted your gaze back at xavier and immediately felt the aura of his gaze. it made you shiver but you returned it in equal. something about this prince was so enigmatic but so revelatory. with each visit you could feel yourself becoming closer and closer with him, and you wondered where the two of you were at now. "prince xavier,"
"xavier," he corrected. you purse your lips.
"prince... xavier, which one of these is your favourite dish? i feel famished if im going to be honest. i want to try your recommendations." he frowns, but points to a pot. "braised chicken. it's the hottest meal we have but the most satiating. there are spices you can try alongside if you're like me and the broth doesn't do you much good." you look toward the pot furrow your brows while refraining from a laugh. "so... it's the hottest meal you have, and you want me to try it with spices? are you trying you to get me to sweat?" you already are princess. he thinks. you and i have been both sweating since earlier. "no, i have no nefarious intentions, but you asked me for recommendations and i gave them to you. y'know, if anything, you might be the true stubborn one between us."
you let out an amused sigh and nod.
"alright, braised chicken with spices then."
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once everyone chose a respective seat at a respective table, dinner service finally, actually began. royals weren't ones to "dig in", it was rather impolite, so they served themselves cordially and with composure, always putting the need of their elbow partner before them. you didn't need to worry about that, though, since xavier insisted on serving you himself. every cut of meat and slather of spices was done by him in his own way. small delicacies and even refills on your drinks was taken care of by his quick, knowing hands. you couldn't tell if he was trying to impress you or take care of you or both, but there were no complaints on your part. "so... you're sure it's not that spicy?" you ask while peering down at your small bowl of braised chicken with ignited broth done by the spices xavier generously added for you. "to me it's not, i enjoy the burn." "that's really not helping. i don't want to make a fool of myself if my throat gets itchy or my eyes start watering." xavier smirks at you and lets out air through his nose. why do you feel the need to care what other people think right now? you were with him, he had your full attention, and you had his. "i can help, then," he murmurs while taking your spoon and scooping up a small serving of chicken from your bowl. this would be regarded as improper and invasive from any noble, but lucky him, all of them were too engrossed in dinner. he blew on the spoon gently before moving it toward your face, down to your lips. "eat, it's good i promise." you blinked at him for a moment before nodding shyly and leaning in to take a bite. xavier domesticity almost made you forget the heat and spice of the food you were being served, but the flavors on your mouth brought you back. it did burn a bit, yes, but it wasn't as bad as you expected it to be. xavier watched your eyes light up in delight as a morsel of food finally made its way into your body. he propped his chin up on his palm and smiled with low-lidded eyes. god, he loved taking care of you. "taste good?" he asked softly. you nod quickly and pat your lips dry with a napkin.
"very good, the spices really do do a good job enhancing the flavor. wow..." you take xavier's wrist gently with your fingers and move it back down to your bowl. you smile and tilt your head with a silent question. "but... does it taste better when you feed me?" stars above, help me. "i'll do this all night if i have to. as long as you leave this room no longer so hungry."
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pink and yellow, those were the colours he chose to wear for the second day of your visit. today his suit was one of silk and brocade, clipped to midway of his waist and fitted nicely against his toned form. the blazer itself was a soft blush colour with gold embroidery swirling in vines and delicate florals at the ends of his sleeves. his undershirt was a pale yellow with a relaxed high collar that gave him a refined, easy look. his back-pockets of his pants matched the theme humble florist with their own flowery design on them. the actual pants, though, pants were plain in light pink and had a bit wider cut today. a simple gold chain hangs from his belt loop and connects to the back, making for an eye-catching accessory. the vibe here was delicate and approachable, easygoing but elegant. he brushed down the sides of his blazer in the mirror and nodded once done scrutinizing himself. the thing about xavier was, he would spend all this time refining and polishing himself for you through his clothes but would never touch his face. he liked going bare and natural without any type of hairstyle or skin up-keep. he wanted you enjoy him in his natural state, and clothes didn't really fall into that category. unlike his handsomeness, clothes could always be altered, tailored, or discarded entirely. once satisfied, xavier turns to face the door of his empty dressing room and walks out with an air of confidence. in routine, he greets the servants out in the hall and walks with them to one of the ballrooms in the same neighboring wing he was in yesterday. the families had been split into different rooms for different topics of discussion, and he had no way of knowing if you were in the ballroom he was designated in. he could only hope.
the clamor of yesterday and the hushed conversation of today was starkly different between the families. supper was filling, and everyone quickly retired once their rest and digest reflexes kicked in. walking you back to your room discreetly felt a little magical because it was just you two, and unfortunately, the furthest xavier could go was just right outside your guest room.
even in the dim light of the evening, your gentle blue beauty and inviting silhouette still managed to tug at his heartstrings. why did he have to leave?
yet, despite his hopefulness, he couldn’t appreciate you even from afar due to your absence in his designated ballroom. the excitement bubbling in his chest quickly deflated and all that was left was a disappointed, bitter feeling. it would be unseemly to leave now, now that a few nobles within the room already noticed him began their greetings with philos's perfect prince. despite the gentle, amicable facade xavier flipped on for face sake, and despite his warm, hospitable voice, his tight smile and ridged walk gave away every bit of annoyance he felt in the moment. he took his appointed seat in the room, the white and blue throne with a golden star balanced atop of it, and barely spared a glance toward the faces in the room.
how long was he supposed to be in here, forced to socialize and talk about commerce that, frankly, he didn’t give a fuck about. “making do” was his entire existence, sucking it all up was what he was made for, but this, you, was something he could not afford to just… brush aside for the sake of it. you’re not as shallow as his royal duties, why would he ever think of sucking this up?
his thoughts almost made him stand and excuse himself to the hall but it was your sudden appearance into the ballroom that halted him from doing so. he watched you politely enter and hold quick eye contact with him before turning your attention to the other families around you. you didn’t want to make it obvious exactly why you were here alone, without your mother.
xavier’s heart thumped erratically in his ears. all sense of distress and hostility vanished from his person and all that was left was within his chest was a deep, abiding sense of fondness. he could read your intentions so clearly right now and it reassured him that you wanted him, coveted him, with the same need he had. he relaxed in his seat and watched you take your own seat across from him. the table was wide and you were far from an arm's length away from him, but he wasn't gonna complain right now. not when you clearly went out of your way to see him.
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"you were staring at me the entire time. i've come to learn you're not a discreet person, your highness." "you were the one who decided to sit directly in my field of vision, princess. why blame me when it was clearly you trying to distract me?" "i go out of my way to convince my mother to let me visit another ballroom and im met with scoldings and accusations for it. you're quite insufferable." xavier lets out a small, low chuckle at your words. he loved bantering with you like a kid, it brought him satisfaction to see how informal the two of you could get. "let's take this outside then, princess." "... you want to fight?" he did not, in-fact, want to fight. instead, you found yourself following xavier to a small, outdoor garden alcove at on the bottom floor of the castle. the roof and walls were decorated in stained glass that spilled lines of rainbows down onto the beautiful gard of forget-me-nots—your favourite flower. you gasp softly and scurry over to a batch to catch a whiff of the new blossoms. no garden you've ever seen seeded only one type of flower or crop; it was always an arrangement of various buds for both aesthetic reasons and the health of the flora. you stand straight and turn your head over to xavier with a delicate and doting look on your face.
"did you... do this for me?" xavier's tucks his chin in and looks down, he smiles to himself with shyness blossoming within his chest. he strides over to where you stood and plucked a singular forget-me-not from the row, his fingers rolling the thin stem of the flower before placing it behind your ear, nestled within the strands of your hair. "to see you smile like that, yes." xavier responds quietly as if someone else threatened to listen to his endearing words. he cups your cheek with his hand and strokes the skin there with his thumb. xavier usually wasn't this bold, but the privacy of the alcove and the growing butterflies between you two made him throw caution to the window and indulge himself in your radiance. you felt bashful, your warm neck and ears and dilated pupils gave that away, but you refused to lean aside. this was everything you wanted, and nothing could peel you away from the admiring gaze of xavier. you turn your head to the side slightly and press a very gentle kiss to the curve of his palm. the tender action caused xavier's eyes to widen search yours eagerly. this was the first kiss you've given him, and it didn't matter to him if it was quick or on his palm, you kissed him. xavier retracts his hand from your face and looks down at the skin there like you just turned it into gold. he brings his hand up to his lips and kisses the spot you just pecked while keeping his intense, devoted gaze onto you. "prince xavier..." you whisper, not sure what to even follow up with. "it's xavier, princess." xavier reaches out again and strokes your hair delicately, a smile plays on his lips. "and yes? are you surprised with how much i want you? you shouldn't be. if only i could truly show you how you meant to me..." you furrow your brows and glance down to the garden floor. you didn't want to ever assume what xavier meant because he was always too cryptic and opaque, but with each passing gesture of his, you couldn't help but feel the electricity that radiated off of him. you wondered if he could feel the heat coming off of you as well. "we're already pushing the limits of our companionship, your highness. even that... peck, it would've gotten me scandalized by the ton." "and yet, here you are, standing and un-scandalized." your worries rolled off of xavier's back like water. he couldn't care less about what scandals the two of you encountered, he only had to save face for his family. but for himself? it was starting to feel like being your companion came before being a prince.
he continues to trace the outlines of your face with his eyes before his gaze landed on your lips. what he would give to just press them against his and let you feel for yourself how anguished he was for you. but you would be against it, he knew, because you still worried about the implications of it all. you couldn't be as untroubled as xavier was, but yet, you knew you wanted the same thing he did. so when his index finger trails down your cheek and to your jaw, down your neck and over your collarbones, off to the side and then down to your hip, you didn't stop him. you shudder softly and wet your lips. "i didn't tell you earlier, but you look beautiful today," xavier murmurs while glancing down to your lips again. you choke up at how smooth his voice was. he was too fucking good at swooning you. "thank you. you look nice today as well. pink compliments you really well." xavier smiles widely at your praise. finally, you noticed the effort he put into looking good for you, but he wasn't satisfied yet. "so what, my face is hideous?" "i...i never said that!" you exclaim. he laughs. "then say otherwise." "huh?" "tell me i'm handsome, tell me how good i look princess." you stare blankly at xavier for a few moments and furrow your brows. you simultaneously wanted to indulge him but also be defiant in such a cheeky request, although he wasn't gonna let that happen. seeing the incredulity on your face, xavier squeezes your hip with a firm hand and smiles. "say it princess, ~ " he sings. you blush immensely. "you're very handsome, your highness." that's my girl.
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today he wore a fine wool and silk suit with a deep grey fitted jacket and black loose pants. the cuffs of his sleeves were also black, as well as the buttons, his shoes, and the undershirt he wore. a small red rose as nestled into the pocket of his suit, and on the outside of the pocket was a white embroidered design of his family's crest. this might've been his most cohesive outfit yet, with his shiny silver hair and all to compliment it.
unfortunately, the time spent between you two was few far and between. you had your moments of conversation and indulgence, but duty often called you away from each other and into councils neither of you cared for. the dinners, where you now only ate braised chicken with spices, and the strolls, where you both hid out in the gardens, became your daily routines and the highlight of your days.
still though, there was more to be had. you had to do everything in slight secrecy to fend off suspicion from others, but when alone, you could feel the tension simmering between the two of you. xavier especially, a man who was thought so much restraint in his life, found himself being tested time and time again. even just a little kiss, a little something could satiate him, but with nobles running around at all times... was the risk worth it? after the morning meal where your mother forced you to socialize with families she made friends with over the last few days, you left the dining room and headed off to your designated ballroom. there were treaties being drafted between certain merchants with ruling families, and the ratification process was just beginning. there only had to be one signature from each family to qualify, and for the sake of it, you would write down your family name instead of having your mother write it. but once that was done? you were home free for the day. this wasn't your kingdom, castle, and these duties weren't necessarily yours to fulfill. in fact, most "families" here simply comprised of the king and queen of that family showing up as representation for their entire kingdom. meaning, in a sense, you weren't needed as much as your mother was. once you managed to get inside the ballroom, your next objective was getting out of their as fast as possible. a little wiggle here, a small bow there, and stroke of a pen was all it took to satisfy everyone and yourself. you excused yourself from the table and readied yourself to leave the suffocating ballroom you've been trapped in for the last few days. as you reach the grand doors, though, your favourite silver-haired, dashing prince walks in with a smile. he sees you and halts, his hand coming up as a gesture asking you to stop as well. "where are you headed?" xavier asks with a slightly concerned look on his face. "i'm done with my part for the day, my mother is handling the rest." you reply, both happy you didn't have to work and resigned that you couldn't gawk at him. xavier furrows his brows and frowns. "where will you go then?" he murmurs.
"to my room, most likely, or maybe i'll take a stroll around the castle and ask the kitchen for early dessert," you tease, "why? you'll miss me?"
"yes." you're taken aback by the quickness and conviction in xavier's voice. you've never heard him speak so... assuredly of something. he steps forward and cups your face similarly to how he did the day before, except this time you retract. there were many eyes around and as much as it hurt you to dismiss him like this, you wanted to preserve what you had. xavier's hand fell slowly as the rejection settled into his chest. he felt hurt, almost a little burned that you would do that so outwardly. "princess-" "there are people around. please, i... i want to protect you and i, okay? don't take it to heart, i... i need you too." his eyes soften but he nods gently. he glances up at the others packed into the room and let out an exhausted sigh. he hated this, he hated the crown right now, everything about his regal and royal life prevented him from you and it frustrated him to no end. he can't make do with this like he's been taught, he just... can't. the irritation welling up in his chest quelled once he glanced back down and saw your reassuring look. it was like every time he felt any sort of resentment, any sour and ugly feeling, you would cure his ailment with just a smile. "please wait for me, princess. i'll be done here as soon as possible." you nod curtly. i'll wait forever. ----------------------------------------------
and wait you did. you headed back into your guest room and decided to wind down with a warm shower and a redress. the fluffy yellow dress you wore only had a few hours in the spotlight today as you stepped into the silky fabric of your loungewear dress. the midnight blue of the slip fit comfortably and hugged just enough to secure. there were thin, adjustable straps on your shoulders that lead to a subtle V-neckline with a delicate lace trim. the fabric is smooth and lightweight, which is just what you liked when you had these rare moments of doing nothing all day. the slip dress itself went down to about mid-thigh, but the black robe you wrapped on top of it went down to just below your knees for modesty. the combination of your warm shower, breakfast still in your stomach, and the loungewear conditioned your brain into exhaustion. the soft-felt was right there and you couldn't help but climb atop of it and take a rest. a rest that would last several hours. when you stirred away and checked the time on the clock on the nightstand you almost jumped out of your skin. it was a quarter past ten (10:15) and you had slept the whole day away. your first thought was immediately about xavier. had you made him wait? was he looking for you? maybe he walked in on you sleeping and decided to let you rest? you felt an immense amount of guilt and regret hit your chest and you fly off the bed. screw it this, screw it all, you thought while putting on your slippers. all these meetings and treaties and debates and councils and everything had tired you down to the point of hibernation, and it directly caused you to neglect the limited you had with xavier. you rush to the door of your room and open it to peek out into the hall. the lights on the ceilings were dimmed which was the castle's indication that activity was dying down and the royal family was already retired. you let out a defeated sigh. how could you be so negligent? he asked you to wait for him and you didn't. you didn't wait for him, and over a pathetic reason too. before you could wallow in self-pity, your stomach made its own thoughts clear. you hadn't eaten since morning. your body felt a bit weak from the lack of food and you knew you couldn't go back to sleep like this. not with this amount of guilt weighing you down anyway. you sigh and step out your room and walk down the hall to try and find a servant or maid to help you out in you scavenge. your feet were slow and dragged out behind you but you soon near one of the kitchens within the wing you were in. before you could step in, a shiver runs up your back and immediately you sensed someone's prescene. "princess!" xavier's voice yelped from not far behind. he scurried down the ballroom he came out of and toward your direction with a hurting look on his face. you follow the same and rushed toward him with guilt plastered on yours. "im so sorry!" "im sorry!" you both yelp out an apology. you take a step back and knit your eyebrows together. "w...what are you apologizing for?" you asked. "i left you, im sorry. i told you i'd come to see you soon but my parents wanted to me stay with the families until all the treaties were signed. it took, all. damn. day. im so sorry." your mouth was a little agape upon hearing his words. the confused look was then reciprocated by xavier. "wait, why are you apologizing for?" "i... i told you i'd wait for you, but i ended up sleeping all day after i left the ballroom. i thought that maybe you didn't want to disturb me and left. i... felt so guilty." the both of you look at each other in astonishment for a few long moments. xavier was the first to crack with a soft laugh that progressed into a hearty one. you continued to stare up at him, evaluating the absurdity of the situation you two created for yourself. "so... we just... both lived today feeling guilty?"
xavier stops laughing for a moment and smiles adoringly at you. his eyes shone down at you with an almost childish glee. your unmoving expression only added to his amusement. you were everything his heart needed.
"that's how i know you're meant for me."
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this was your third bowl of braised chicken with spices tonight. finding you in the hall at that precise moment was serendipitous for the both of you. not only for the matter of clearing the air and expelling guilt, but also for the fact that xavier could request the leftovers of meals from supper. he brought you back to your room and finally fully stepped inside with you. with his parents asleep, the visiting families in their rooms, and staff also retired, it was just you two.
xavier did more than just step in, actually, he made himself comfortable. you were sat on the edge of your bed eating and he pulled up a chair beside you, not wanting to invade the intimate space of your bed. he watched you eat with tender eyes as you explained your side of the story for the day, and you did the same as he complained about the exhaustion that overcame him in the ballrooms.
"i still am sorry, my prince," you frown while putting down the bowl on the bedside table, "i broke our promise unknowingly, regardless." xavier smiles warmly shakes his head.
"so did i," he hums, "i wanted to see you within the hour you left but well… here we are. we're both a little guilty, yeah?" you laugh softly and shake your head. "no need to apologize then princess, we're even."
your body tilted down toward his and his body leaned up toward yours, a shared warmth flourished between you two at that moment. the room was quiet and bathed in the cool glow of the moon filtering through the sheer curtains. neither of you turned on the lights when you first walked in because this dim atmosphere was so comforting.
xavier reaches up and strokes your cheek softly with the back of his fingers. he adored your bare face, so youthful and soft to the touch without any product on it. you nuzzle into his touch and giggle softly. he rises from his chair, now towering over you while you were still sitting, and he moves to stand in-between your legs. you lean back slightly to invite him in, and he takes that invitation. his other hand moves to your back and pushes you closer to his form so that your chest was pressed against his abdomen. you felt your heart quicken at the intimacy of every move.
"prince-"
"xavier," he corrects, "i've told you to call me xavier repeatedly for the last few days and you haven't once. it's just us now, no one here to scare you from indulging me, princess. it's xavier."
"… xavier," you whisper out in a breathless voice.
"say it again," he murmurs while sliding his hand down to the small of your back and pushing you closer.
"xavier," you repeat.
"again." he takes his other hand out from your hait and places it underneath your thigh.
"xavier."
"one more time." he pushed your leg up and tucks in your back to make you fall onto the bed behind you. his hand moves up and down your thigh slowly while his other one, now off your back, cups your waist.
"ah… xavier."
he grins widely and leans his head down to nuzzle into your neck. while his outside demeanor may seem composed or even confident, internally he was a wreck. what was he doing right now and why did it feel so good? he felt so nervous that maybe he was pushing the boundaries between you two, but you neither fought back nor complained.
he peppered a few kisses in the crevice of your neck and then moved them down to your collarbones. you brought your hands up slowly to his head of hair and threaded your fingers into his locs. you felt a rush of something new, something you hadn't felt before, come over you. you glance down at xavier and see him already peering up at you.
"are you okay?" he asks tentatively, a nervous tinge in his voice.
"yeah, i'm alright. just…" you hesitate. you knew you two shouldn't be doing this, you knew it was a major violation of royal court rules. un-betrothed, un-courted royals were not allowed to be intimate by any means. if a royal wanted to become intimate in any way, the fastest way was to have an arranged marriage with a willing partner. but none of those circumstances applied to the two of you, which was incredibly scandalous. "… just continue." but you didn't care.
xavier almost lost his mind right there. he almost couldn't believe what you just said but the fond look on your face reassured him that he wasn't going insane.
oh god. oh… god.
xavier moves his hand from your waist to your abdomen where the tie to your robe was knotted at. he looks up to you for permission before slowly undoing it. the tension in the air was thick as both of you wondered just how far this was about to go. the robe fell to your sides and revealed the midnight coloured silk loungewear that you still had on.
xavier's pupils dilate as he takes in the beauty of your form. shocks of arousal went through his body, all pooling in a rather indecent place. he carefully takes the robe off your arms and puts it aside to fully appreciate your figure.
"i can't even describe what i'm feeling right now, you look unbelievable."
xavier's words immediately make you breathless. you've been revered by countless amounts of people in your life but nothing compared to the veneration he was giving you right now. you pull him down closer and nudge your nose against his affectionately.
"xavier."
"yes, princess?
"can you kiss me?"
"yes, princess."
without hesitation he presses his lips against yours and groans into your mouth. you reciprocate with a whine as you both share you first kiss. not just your first kiss with each other, but the first kiss both of you've ever had. it felt better than you expected, probably because the man you were sharing this experience with was someone you adored.
instinctively, your body arches up against his and his body presses down against yours. every time one of either of you pulled back for a breath, the other leaned back in for more. the kiss was juvenile and inexperienced but also heated and needy. nothing else in the world mattered anymore.
and for the first time in a long, long while xavier felt his cock twitch in his pants and start growing into an erection. he had gotten erections when he was younger purely out of hormonal changes, but never out of arousal. despite his age, this was a first for him and it felt so good to need you like this. the heat pooling in between your legs was also a first for you. you could feel a deep throbbing within you that could only be relieved by squishing your thighs together to create friction.
you push xavier back and whine. you weren't sure what you needed more, him or air.
"you look so beautiful like this," xavier giggles, "look at you, so flushed and pretty." he moves his hands up and down your hips with the intent to feel the curves and fullness of your body. his cock was now full erect and painfully pressed up against his grey pants, making an obvious imprint there. you shudder under his touch and close your eyes to savor the warmth of his large hands over your body, slowly rocking your hips up for more. he watches you undulate and moans. there was something so unbelievably erotic about the way you silently begged for more from him with your body. he steadies your hips and smiles. "princess, can i..." he trails off, unsure of how to verbalize his need. instead, he gently lifts your pliant body and turns you to be on your hands and knees on the bed. before you could sputter out in embarrassment, he hugs your form from atop and presses his hips flush against yours, earning a small gasp from you. "xavier," you yelp, "you're...?" he smiles. "erect, yes. what else did you expect my princess? i'm so excited for you and i've never felt this was before." he pushes his hips against yours again but this time a little harder. you could feel the stiffness and heat of his cock grind into your backside. this level of brazenness was something xavier couldn't even explain himself - in fact he was a little afraid of it. he didn't know what he was doing, really, he just moved in a way that felt natural.
"t...that feels so good," you say as you arch your hips up for him like a cat in heat for the first time. your unintentional words of reassurance make xavier groan and encourage him to keep going. he presses against you over and over again until both of you are mewling messes for each other. you could feel your heart thump erratically both in your chest and in-between your legs where arousal built. "ngh... ah... feel good, princess? i want to - ah - make you feel everything you make me feel. i want to give - mngh - pleasure to you." "y...you already are. i have the same desire, - ngh - i want to make you feel good. but it's just... what if we get caught? what if - " "we won't," xavier hisses. "i don't want you to worry like this, not when you're with me. i should have your full attention, not anyone else." he wraps his arms around your waist and fully presses his front against your back. his lips come 'round and press little teasing kisses down your lobe and to your neck. "we don't have to do anything further, we can just stay like this, but please, just focus on me."
xavier's almost whiny voice causes the aching between your legs to throb harshly. you've never seen him be such a mess, but you also have never been such mess yourself. you lift your arm up and wrap it around xavier's head and pull his lips against yours. he takes this as encouragement and thumps his hips harder against you with newfound confidence. too caught up in the moment, you don't even notice his trailing hand that lands right on your navel. "may i...?" he mumbles against your lips. you nod. he slides his hand further down to your thigh and then back up underneath your nightdress. he feels the lace of your panties and almost implodes realizing that he was going to touch you there and you let him. his fingers tease around the edge of your underwear and occasionally slide in to feel your bare hips. every touch he makes causes his aching cock to pulsate in anger for the fact that it hasn't been stimulated yet, but he put you first before everything. your breath hitches once you feel his finger finally graze against your soaking mound. you both let out a groan. "so wet..." he mumbles. the pads of his middle and ring finger gently trace around your pussy lips and folds. he wanted to commit this feeling to memory, the first time he's ever touched you. pleasure you've never experienced before wells up in your body and slowly, you feel your mind going hazy with lust. the explicit books you've read don't compare to the actual feeling of being pleasured. you can't believe this is what you've missed out on. you grab xavier's other hand and move it to your chest over one of your breasts. you felt him squeeze the plushness there almost immediately. his lips find your neck again which add to the symphony of bliss you felt. he was servicing you in every section of your body and he loved it. he loved, loved taking care of you. "i know i'm not yours yet through the court, princess, but i'm yours in every way that matters. i want to service you, make you feel good, take care of you until i physically can't anymore." "w...who cares about the court? ngh - they keep me a...away from you. you have - mngf - my devotion." "then don't let another man hear these sweet sounds, princess. don't let another man touch you or love you the way i do. i want to be yours, wholeheartedly." "only i...if you promise not to let a...another woman be - ahh - with you like this, xavier." "i wouldn't dream of it." xavier stops his fondling for a moment to flip you onto your back. he climbs the bed and smiles down at you before immediately ditching the grey suit. he throws it aside haphazardly, not caring about its maintenance, and leans down to your body. his loving kisses pepper your face causing you to giggle softly. you push him back to playfully scold him but the lovey-dovey look on his face makes your words disappear. "i really can't believe i'm yours," he whispers while continuing his worshipful kisses. "my beautiful princess, you've got me so worked up the last few days i didn't know what to do." his hands move back to your wet center, determined to coax more of those sweet sounds out of you. "and you think i've been doing great?" you retort softly while griding yourself against xavier's fingers. "i've been denying myself such simple pleasures out of fear and now i can't hold back anymore." xavier's eyes soften.
"i don't want you to hold back anymore," he whispers, "i want you to take as much of me as you want until you're satisfied. i'll give you everything. even if it brings me to tears, i will give you everything." before you could respond xavier's fingers deftly hook into your panties and pull down. he does it slowly and looks up at you occasionally to make sure you're okay, to make sure he isn't being selfish. once completely off, he lifts up your nightdress to your hips and just... stares. you hear a small noise come out of him as he revers your most intimate part. his thumb strokes the pubic hairs on your pussy while occasionally bumping into your swollen clit, making you whimper. "d...don't stare!" you exclaim in sheer embarrassment.
"why not? i won't be able to see this again for a while." you sputter at his implication and boldness. but it was when his head moved down toward your folds with a clear intention that really left you breathless. "wait!" you pull his head back. "don't do that either!" he laughs softly at the apprehensive look on your face. "why not? people do it all the time. i want to know you in every sense of the word, including knowing your taste." "but that's... unsanitary...?" even you felt unsure in your words. you weren't dirty, you wore new, clean clothes all the time. you took care of your hygiene almost meticulously and you weren't bleeding. denying yourself this pleasure would be a disservice to your aching, ready body. but letting yourself indulge came with the risks of getting hooked. "just a little kiss and lick?" xavier pouts. he moves his head down again and hovers over your pussy with a needy look. he gave you plenty of time to move him away and reject his offer again but when you averted your gaze and lifted your hips up for him, he almost cheered. he presses his soft lips against your clit and laps at it like a puppy thirsty for water. a little kiss and lick weren't enough for him, and he believed it wasn't enough for you either. you deserved more; you deserved everything he had to give. in his mind, the girl who broke his shell and taught him what love was deserved his every breath. to him you tasted like your scent; warm vanilla mixed with a more fleshy, salty feminine musk. a determined man like him needed to ensure this, though. maybe you had hints of jasmine or amber in you, maybe there was more sweetness waiting for him at the end of his road. your hands find purchase in xavier's head of hair and despite your earlier protests, you push him further into your pussy. at this point, your folds were creamy and dripping from pure and utter excitement, which made for a great drink on xavier's part. he delves in deeper with an eager and untrained mouth, sucking and kissing your clit and circling his tongue (as best as the poor boy can) over your clenching entrance. you almost orgasmed right there but you pulled xavier back from in-between your legs to prevent it. "ha.... hah.... x..xavier! you said just a little ki...! i need to - hah - catch my breath." xavier's head was in a haze but he wore a big goofy smile on his glistening lips. "you taste so sweet, though. i wanted to be a good prince and finish my meal." xavier giggles at the astonishment present on your face. he was so teasing and provocative in a way you would've never guessed, and even if you did like it, you wouldn't admit it. but even if you were taken aback by every other word he said, his glossy lips made evidence to just how much he adored you. willing to dive headfirst for your pleasure and even still whining for more. your eyes trailed down to his aching erection and immediately you felt the need to reciprocate. what did xavier taste like? what did he feel like in your mouth? you wanted to know just as badly as xavier wanted to go back into your beating pussy. you reach out and trace your finger over the imprint of his cock through his pants. xavier shuddered and pushed his hips forward to entice you, a small smile on his face.
"like it? want to see it?"
you nod instead of verbally responding, too shy to voice your newfound desires. xavier felt anxious showing himself to you. he anxious about your judgement, which was a rarity given his position as a respected prince. he usually was the one inflicting judgement on others, not the one fearing it.
you prove to me every day how much you've changed me, princess. xavier unfastens the buckles of his belt and slides it out of its loop, then shakes off his pants to the side. he inches closer to you and hovers over your anticipatory self. he moves his hand to the tent of his boxers and rubs himself gently while letting his eyes roam over you. "can i take off the rest of your nightdress?" "can you take off your top and boxers?" xavier smirks at and nods. he unbuttons his undershirt and slides it off with ease, putting it aside with his other clothes, then looks down at his boxers. he moves even closer and leans his head against yours, nudging your cheek with his nose while touching himself. you could feel the anticipation simmering you two, electric and overwhelming. he reaches into his boxers and grabs his throbbing cock, slowly taking it out of its confinements. he groans once its fully out to scrutinizing your gaze, and you let out a whimper at just the sheer sight of him.
his cock stood tall and proud, arching into his abdomen while covering itself in streaks of pre-cum. he was swollen with need which made you eager to please him even more. tentatively, you reach your hand out and wrap your fingers around the base of his cock which makes xavier tilt his head back in pleasure. he groans as he feels your slow pumping and squeezes on him even though each movement was met with hesitation. while you continued your strokes, your head leaned in closer and closer in attempts to satisfy your curiosity. you let your hand fall for a moment and prepare to take his length into your mouth when xavier quickly pins you back onto the bed upon sensing your intention. your eyes widen in surprise and fear, wondering if you did something. "w...what?!" you squeal. "i don't... i don't want you to do that. i... i want to be the one servicing. i don't want you to do something like that for me." "i...want to make you feel good, though"
xavier smiles tenderly at you.
"you already make me feel good, but i know what you mean. just for today, i don't want you to do it, okay?" "but i want to taste you."
xavier smiles tenderly at you. he moves his hand down to his aching cock and slides his index and middle finger down his creamy shaft and then brings it up to your lips. "taste, then." you felt a shock of arousal hit your body at xavier's eroticism that you could hardly believe he was an inexperienced celibate like you. happily, though, you lean forward and take his fingers into your mouth and moan upon tasting the salty sweetness of his desire. he watches you suck eagerly and move as if you were pleasuring his cock, bobbing your head up and down and enveloping your tongue around his fingers. the sight was too much to bear for him and he lunges forward into a heady kiss. his fingers slide from your mouth as the two of your whine and whimper into against each other's lips. he wastes no time peeling off your nightdress from your undulating form, starting with undoing the strings on your back and pulling it over your head. he finally pulls back from the kiss and stares down at your bare form underneath him. his eyes go from your soft, plush breasts down to your tummy and of course your wet core. "my pretty girl," he murmurs, "beautiful doesn't even describe you. what am i gonna do with you?" "touch me." "with pleasure." he moves his head down to your collarbones and starts a line of kisses down in-between the valley of your breasts. he cups both of them with each hand and rolls his thumbs over your nipples to coax them into peaks. he watches you fondly as your expression contorts in pleasure from his ministrations, giving him a confidence boost. "i like these," he mumbles, referring to your breasts. "yeah?" "yeah. they're soft and squishy, perfect to just play with. do you ever play with them?" an awkward smile appears on your incredulous face. "uh, sometimes? like when i'm in the shower or when i'm bored. my dresses usually get in the way of anything getting in so..."
"if i was a girl, i would be playing with mine all the time. it's very comforting."
you furrow your brows at him and laugh softly at his honesty. you move your hands up to his pecs and squish them playfully in the same manner xavier was touching you. "how does this feel then?" you giggle. "feels like i'm being fondled by a pretty girl. mine compare nothing to yours, though. bet yours taste nice too."
xavier moves down to your hardened nipples and wraps his lips around them with swiftness. you feel him suckle and moan on your skin like a man starved. he continues the same ministration on your other nipple, suckling and groaning with need until he decides to pop off, a large smile on his shining face. "mm, yeah, tastes amazing." you playfully hit his arm which erupts a small giggle from him, causing your heart to flutter. xavier, at the end of the day, is just as silly and childish as the day you met him. and no matter how good his stoic facade is to those around him, you knew him as someone much, much different. something about his smile flames a desire inside of you. not one so much of lust but more of a need for connection. pushing royal rules was something everyone did here and there, completely breaking them was treason. it told everyone you had no restraint, no moral compass, that you are blinded by lust and desire and that you couldn't be loyal to your crown. maybe they were right, because right now you wanted to be loyal to xavier more than any throne in the world. "xavier, i need you," you whisper suddenly. he leans down immediately and presses a kiss to your temple. "i'm right here, my princess."
you press your hands onto his hips and move them down a bit to nestle his hard cock against your thigh. "i need you."
xavier's eyes widen slightly. he wasn't sure from the beginning if this was how far you two would go, given how anxious you were about the risks of doing so; but despite how scary sex could be for a someone like you - both a virgin and a princess - you looked at ease and assured in your words. "princess..." he whispers, "i know we're not supposed to be doing this but... i need you too."
"i don't care anymore. i want you more than i've ever wanted anything in my life." xavier chuckles and presses another kiss to your temple. "well when you put it like that, there's no way i can hesitate."
knowing you needed more preparation, xavier shifted your legs up to your waist and probed you for a few minutes before inserting a singular finger. he watched as his digit was engulfed by you the entire way and he also watched your twisting expression to ensure you were okay. it hurt a bit, obviously, but he was gentle and patient. slowly, he worked you up to two fingers and then three. it only felt uncomfortable because your muscles there were unused and inexperienced with penetration, but xavier did everything right. "you're so tight, starlight. can you relax a bit for me?" he whispers while pressing kisses down your belly. you nod and try to calm your jittery body down with deep breaths, earning an encouraging kiss from xavier. "that's it, just like that. you're doing so well. i can feel you loosing up a bit," he praises. you smile and continue breathing until you felt ready enough to move on. you look down at xavier and cup his face with a gentle hand. what a beauty you had with you. "i think i'm ready." "are you sure? there's no rush." you smile. "i'm sure." xavier nods and moves up your body so that your hips and his were pressed up against each other. he grabs his cock at the base and gently slides it in-between your pussy lips to gather your arousal and nudge your clit teasingly. after a few moments of silent rubbing, he shifts his cock a little lower and positions himself your entrance. he presses repeated kisses to your cheek as he very slowly pushes into you. you immediately tense up but the coos of xavier's voice help you relax again. "i'm a bit in, are you okay?" "y...yeah," you shudder, "feels weird but i want more." he continues pushing in and out, in and out until you took more and more of him with each passing minute. despite this being a major turning point in your relationship and lives, both of you stayed rather quiet from how attentive you were being to each other.
xavier felt how your body was slowly accepting him with each shallow thrust, so he took a slight risk. he pushes in again but this time with the intent to go deeper than before. you tense up again and immediately he comforted you. "it's okay, you're okay. tell me if it's too much." "im okay, im okay. it's just... an uncomfortable feeling, but it's starting to go away." "it's starting to go away?" he repeats with a smile. "then let's get the hard part out of the way, yeah? im gonna go deeper again but stop me if it's too much." you nod and wrap your arms around xavier's back for comfort. his cock slid out of you again and with gentle force, he pushes in even deeper causing you both to groan. you felt a shock of pain and pleasure within your legs but refused to stop at this point. xavier, on the other hand, was trying his best not to cum already. he stilled within you and whimpered softly as he forces himself to calm down before he orgasmed prematurely. sweat beads on his forehead and falls down onto your chest. "oh god, you feel so, so good. 'm seeing stars... ngh." before you could say anything, he slides out of you again and presses back into the same spot within your walls, causing you to arch off the bed and cry out. while there was still a pain within you, it was numbing off into an aching sense of pleasure. you scratch xavier's back as more cries fall from your lips while he continues to go in and out, hitting a bit deeper each time. "oh... xavier... xavier... xavier...!" "i love you, i love you, i love you."
as much as you wanted to see xavier's face, you had to clench your eyes shut from the pressure on your body. your nails continue to mark xavier from the back which only urges him to soak himself deeper within you. "yes starlight, scratch me, mark me, make me yours." he gasps out. every movement he made was a battle with his body to not lose himself inside you right then and there. xavier had experienced countless battles, training grounds, injuries, debates, a myriad of hardship; but nothing was as difficult as simply trying not to cum in you right now.
"xavier," you whine, "xavier, it f..feels good now. i feel like im losing my mind." "lose it princess, lose it with me."
he moves a hand down to your hips and lifts them slightly to get a better angle within you, while the other goes over your clit and stimulates you further. you gasp at the dual stimulation and feel an unfamiliar heat slowly coil within your navel. "xavier, i love you too. i didn't say it earlier, but i do. i love you so much. i love you with everything i have." xavier's pace falters the moment he hears your reciprocated confession. truth be told, he was refraining from cumming by just those words. he smiles endearingly and leans into your face and presses a singular kiss to the tip of your nose. "princess, can i come in you?" he asks softly, his voice now devoid of struggle. you glitch at his ask but before you could answer he continues. "you leave tomorrow, right? i want you to take a part of me before you go. i want it to be with you on your journey back. may... i?" with the way xaiver was asking you with his sweet, tender voice and his adoring eyes, you would've given him a baby if he asked. oh wait. "yes, please do." the elation on his face was almost indescribable, you wanted to laugh. he shifted out of your again and then pushed back in until your pelvis met his. this was the deepest he’s gone in so far and you could feel how his cock curved up into you and nudged against your walls. you felt that final push and cried loudly. you lift your legs to wrap around xavier’s hips while he pressed kisses to your cheek to comfort you. at this point you were attached to his body like glue and you weren’t planning on letting go.
“oh stars above,” he groans, “i fit so perfectly in you princess, yeah?” xavier presses another kiss to your forehead before resting his chin atop of your head. “you’re all nice and snug, i want you to trap me in you so you don’t have to go tomorrow.”
“y…you’re crazy.”
xavier smiles and wraps his arms around your chest. he pulls out again only to sink into you once more. each thrust was no longer as slow and methodical, instead they were getting sloppy and getting slightly faster with each thrust. he still paid attention to your cues and noises to ensure that you weren’t uncomfortable, but he needed to give you an orgasm that satisfy you every pent up need.
one arm moves from under your body and goes down to your aching clit. his fingers circle and rub you there until your bud was perking with pleasure. seeing and hearing how much each ministration was pleasuring you, he moves his head down to one of your breasts and latches onto a nipple to suckle once more. the triple stimulation on your body was too much to bear and in a matter of moments you felt that earlier coil in your stomach start to unravel.
“x..xavier! i feel weird… i think im gonna…!” you gasp and clench onto his body as if you were preparing for the worst.
“t…that’s my girl, let go. i’ve g..got you. you’re gonna squeeze an orgasm an out of me too.”
you squeeze your eyes shut and lock your legs tighter around xavier hips. the next thing you knew, you felt a hot flash down your body that converged in-between your legs and bursted with great force. you almost screamed but xavier ate up your cries with soothing kisses as his own orgasm welled up and tipped over within you. he feels the throbbing of your clit and the tightening of your pussy around his cock, milking him for what he’s had stored up for years.
your first, and his first, orgasm.
xavier’s heavy balls coil up as his cock paints the inside of your sweetness with an intense load of cum. tears fall from your eyes, your body twitched with overstimulation, you felt your mind going numb from how overwhelmed you were, but you didn’t regret a single moment of it. xavier whimpers your name out as his cock spurts out the last few gushes of cum within you. the feeling of something so sticky and hot inside your pussy was incredibly weird but you felt a strange sense of contentment at how full you were.
“i love you so much, don’t leave me. stay here with me.” xavier whispers in a small voice as his body stills within you. he waited patiently for you to calm down before pressing more kisses to your face.
“you…you know i can’t do that,” you reply in a struggle. your body felt exhausted from the exertion but you were still attentive to xavier.
“i know.”
xavier nestles his head underneath your chin and holds you gently and you reciprocate with an embrace around his neck. there was a bittersweet silence between you two. maybe more sweet than bitter for you and maybe more bitter than sweet for xavier. the ache and pain in you went ignored as you prioritized focusing on xavier over anything else in the moment. you couldn’t properly see his face and the dim room made it hard to see his body clearly, but you could tell he was upset.
you press a gentle kiss to his forehead and rub your nose there affectionately. usually you would tease him about acting like a little baby but humor felt misplaced here. your heart ached but you weren’t sure what to say to comfort him. so instead, you say the one thing you could think of and truly mean.
“i love you, xavier.”
“i love you more.”
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a/n: i’ve literally slaved away writing this lowkey, but i enjoyed it. sorry if the second half of this seems lackluster, i was slowly going insane from how much i was writing and i needed it to be DONE WITH. anyway xavier for life 💜
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diejager · 1 year ago
Note
it's always girl dad König or girl dad Simon but girl dad Makarov whose little princess gets away with everything
Cw: mention of assassination, protective behaviour, father!Makarov, tell me if I missed any. nnote: every dialogue in italic is spoken in Russian.
“- could provide you with-” 
“Papa, ” you poked your head through his office room’s door after giving it three light knocks.
You knew your dad was in his office, a worker of the house had told you where he was after you asked her, the old lady’s face wrinkling up with her gentle, saying that she saw a Bolivian man escorted to his office, but didn’t know if he left or not. Wanting to try your luck, you crossed the mansion to get to his office, built on the left side of the house, while your bedrooms and study rooms were on the other end of the mansion. He liked to separate his work life and his life with you, for better protection and keep your from knowing the dangers of life —or so he says. 
A man sat across him, the bald head of the Bolivian man Old Baba mentioned, wearing a suit sewed in fine looking silk, of rich and luxury that even your father never wore around so carelessly. It would catch people’s attention, right or wrong, he didn’t need any of that, he would rather wear the same black and white attire, clean and normal enough to be unnoticeable by the mass. The dichotomy between the fat man and your father was laughable, a scene you’d only see in your comedy novels or a movie. Your abrupt entrance had cut the man’s proposition in half, turning both their attention towards the door where you blinked owlishly, partly in guilt for barging into his meeting and in shock at the bald man’s heavy perspiration. 
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were still talking,” you bowed your head, ready to excuse yourself for barging in, “I’ll come back later, papa.”
“It’s fine,” Makarov waved his hand, nodding his head to let you know he wasn’t mad, your father would never be mad at you, you listened so well and never fought him on anything. You were a gem in his eyes, something precious and untouchable to all but him, “I’ll have someone call you when I’m done.”
When you closed the door, Makarov’s attention turned back to his potential - well, past potential - ally, his eyes darkening after he caught the man whispering something horrid about your interruption. His business was yours as much as it was his, you might’ve been kept in the dark at most time, but you knew enough to know he was a dangerous man. He kept you sheltered, but not naive.
And after half-heartedly listening to what the man had to provide, Makarov dismissed him, giving him a cold apology about those needs being fulfilled by a prior contractor, someone who already provided him with the material he proposed. He didn’t need a rich pig that stupidly flaunted is money, it would attract to many eyes and he didn’t need that if he wanted to reach his goal and build a better world for you. 
He flicked his wrist, opening his phone and mindlessly dialling a number, pressing the screen to his ear as he watched the man amble down the stairs, struggling to make his way to the car he had a chauffeur waiting for him. The person on the other side picked his call within seconds, a cool and monotone voice ready to receive his order from Makarov, the unbothered tone at his fury, a personal and petty thing that clawed at his mind. 
“Make it known that I will have no one disrespect my daughter.”
“Yes, sir.”
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami
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bewitched-hours · 10 days ago
Note
If you’re still looking for Yandere requests, perhaps a 7n7Noli x reader could be interesting :3c? Can see them having very different dynamics with eachother and their other partner both pre- and during Forsaken
HOWS ABOUT I DO BOTH- EVEN THROWING IN A LITTLE ANGST-
Reader's getting She/They'd-
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Pre-Forsaken
How did you find yourself in your current situation?
Well... It was largely a situation where you and 007n7 happened to be at the same place, same time. You were both trying to start chaos and your different ways of hacking sorta mixed together.
You weren't entirely against the shared chaos and suggested working together, seeing as he was good at evading admins and you were good at covering tracks.
And of course, Noli was part of the package. A memer you could get along with while he made the chaos more laughable.
You were like an indestructible trio. Have fun at other's expenses and return to a shared base to act like normal roommates.
You all even opened up about your pasts one night after you woke up screaming.
You came from an old-fashioned and very abusive household, nothing too special there. And although you were a hacker for the fun of seeing people in distress, there is a part of you- the part that holds that innocent inner child- that simply wants revenge.
Revenge you can never achieve for the simple reason you had already framed your family for your first few crimes, letting them be banned one after another while you kept an innocent facade.
It was cliché but the other two were there to listen and shared their own stories to help you feel less alone. To show you were among friends.
At least, that's what you called it.
It wasn't until you found yourself cuddling between the two one evening that you actually questioned your relationship.
Until now, you had figured they simply recognized you enjoyed the pressure of being a little squished because it felt therapeutic but at this point all of your shared behaviours were just-
Habit?? Routine??? You couldn't quite put your finger on it.
So, with a groggy look and your gaze fixed onto a small TV you were all watching movies on, the question came out more exasperated than you initially intended. "What the fuck even is our relationship?"
You didn't really look away from the TV, but you could feel them both shift a little around you. And you could definitely hear their smugness-
"Figured you wanted to be the queen and we'll be your kings~" 007 chirped under you. You were actually a little offended but playfully slapped your hand over his face.
He couldn't help but laugh as you finally looked up to see them both. "With the bullshit we've done together? We're gods, excuse you." You smirked, blushing at their shared grins.
"But~ I suppose if this is your way of saying I'm getting two boyfriends, I'm not gonna object~" You almost mimicked their smug tones, seeming to only egg them on more.
Although, they wouldn't dare to object either. They were heads over heels for you and you weren't even aware of how many lives were lost during your shared chaotic messes for simply looking at you too long.
No, you weren't aware how badly they wanted to make sure the admins couldn't disrupt this perfect relationship. Nor how they both had multiple plans ready for 'Just in case...' situations where they'd have to get you or each other out of trouble.
Hell, you had your name in 007's c00lgui as his 'teleport to base' command. But he never allowed you to see his c00lgui so it wasn't like you could know.
You were so blissfully oblivious to the extent they'd go for you, they even took a look at your banned family to consider giving your inner child that wish for 'Revenge'...
So... Imagine the shock when 007n7 suddenly came home with a whole baby in his arms-
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Forsaken
Who would've thought you'd get a killer to soften up for you?
You were an outcast from the start, shown to have been a hacker much like 007n7 in your past.
However, you never showed any remorse or change. You knew this realm took the ability to ban you away from the admins in your team and you absolutely loved annoying them for it.
Sure, you also got nerfed... A lot...
But with 007 as the first and only one to show you empathy and be so strangely determined to make you seek redemption...
Who were you to waste his efforts? He was cute, you couldn't deny that.
But over time, you actually grew quite fond of him. You opened up about your unknown past and he'd share his, even showing you a picture of himself with c00lkidd before he became the killer you've all known today.
It made you feel sick, knowing you've been fighting against a literal child. Until then, you had simply assumed if was some dude with a childish voice but to know it's an actual kid seemed to have an impact on you.
It even showed in rounds where 7n7 noticed you intentionally avoiding c00lkidd or at least refusing to attack him. Were you doing it out of mercy? Maybe clarity? He couldn't tell but he was glad you didn't seem to wish any harm to his child despite the Spectre's cruel game.
He was quick in allowing a behaviour to be formed where you would seek out his cabin in the middle of the night because you couldn't sleep and needed extra warmth.
And it was no surprise you recognized Noli on first appearance. Although, you did double check with 007...
And Noli noticed you too, perhaps even recognizing you somehow. Maybe he caught wind of you in your hacker days? At this point it wasn't surprising...
But something about you made him avoid you the way you avoided c00lkidd. It made you worry if maybe someone at the killer cabin knew you personally... You just hoped it wasn't who you thought...
But no, the memer killer simply had a love-at-first-sight moment and decided you and 7n7 were the only ones he wouldn't kill. Instead, he opted to just dragging you away for chit-chat and letting the countdown run.
To say you were lucky was probably an understatement. You didn't even need to be isolated from the other survivors since you so willingly showed you had no interest in actually helping the other survivors. The only one you ever helped was 007 and you managed to get his heart long ago even if you hadn't known.
It was actually kinda nice. You didn't mind the resentment from the others and being left out during rounds to just partner with 7n7 at most. If anything, you thought they were just jealous.
Your abilities were so much better than theirs anyways! Who cares!
You'd even get a little talkative with c00lkidd every few rounds!
Apparently Noli talks about you and his dad a lot...
It was somewhat nice getting to know the kid better, despite eventually dying to him or- as he believed- 'tagged'...
Should you even say anything? No, it wasn't your place to make him realize the horrors he's committed... He deserves to keep his innocence...
Who knows? Maybe one day you can all even find a way out of this place and revert c00lkidd back to his normal self...
Maybe the idea of having a family was more appealing to you than you'd have ever considered...?
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Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!
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resident-idiot-simp · 26 days ago
Text
Thinking again about how heavy Logan is
Al who over the years has gotten used to moving Wades extremities out of the way when he's in the way, either intentionally or not.
Wade will be an ass and take up as much space as possible so she's gotten used to just maneuvering him around.
Logan doesn't do it to be an asshole he just something forgets it's not only him there. Not from lack of noise and hubbub but just from years of it being that way.
Al assumes she'll just treat Logan the same damn way because she knows he couldn't give a shit what she does. (And she appreciates him for that Lord knows she's at least got one of them that minds their own damn business)
So the first time she grabs his arm to move it out of her way she's shocked to realize it's fucking heavy. She knows immediately he's not being an asshole and locking it in place there's no strain after all. It's just heavy unnaturally so.
She's genuinely puzzled but luckily for her Logan realizes what's she's doing and moves his arm to give her room apologizing softly. That's something else she'd learned despite what she would have assumed at first, Logan is a genuinely good man which....maybe shouldn't have surprised her.
People thought Wade was bad but she knew better, It should be a little shock that the people he was close to were the same.
But even as she sits down the can't stop wondering about the weight.
Just a few days later she is nudging one of Logan's legs out of her way. Maybe she technically didn't need to do that, but sue her she was curious. Again the unnatural weight what he was having a hard time computing.
It made no sense to her he wasn't like Cable or Colossus. He was flesh and bone as far as she knew so what was the deal?
She goes out of her way to investigate (and not ask Wade who most certainly has the answers.) Anytime she touches Logan she tries to figure out what makes him the way he is.
She discovers and rediscovers he's a hairy mother fucker. In her experiments that Logan is oblivious to she has discovered his bones aren't right, they just aren't. While Logan may as well be a heater if she leans into him (especially in places like his arm that don't have a lot of skin covering the bones.) his bones seem cold.
An insane thing that makes her beyond confused but she's been alive long enough, and isn't stupid enough to no be able to draw conclusions. Metal it has to be metal she knows how replacements work and while that doesn't seem to be his deal...with You know the healing. She suspects it's a similar concept.
But she knows mental isn't that heavy sure there are some metals but It's almost laughably how heavy he is. Because now that she's paying attention she realizes that if he sits on the couch the whole thing creaks and groans like it's in pain.
If she's on there with him she feels it because the dip makes itself obvious. So she speculates and ponders even tunes in oh Logan and Wade's conversations (a harrowing thing considering the amount of flirting)
She learns that sometimes Logan's bones ache and Wade calls him an old decreed man. Logan tactfully reminds him that he is in fact over two centuries old, and that he has a right to bitch and moan about his damn bones all things considered.
Wade just mocks him but doesn't bother Logan as he lays on the pullout just gives him a beer. If she's being honest she still can't get over how old Logan is. One-off comets here and there are stark reminders.
And well maybe she should have put it together a bit earlier sue her but the claws. The claws that make an appearance at least once a day that announce themselves with a snicket.
Metal and so she wonders if that's his mutation. If he's metal as well but something about that doesn't sit right. Mutations work in weird ways and Colossus may be metal as well.
However due to one off comments and grumblings she thinks it's not the case. Not when Wade mentions finally having katana's to match.
(Not to mention Laura who had the same claws but not the weight of the father.)
She think she puts the pieces together when she's awoken one night to screaming, sadly not a rare occasion and she pities both men. They are wrecked with demons that haunt them relentlessly.
Tonight however when hears muttering of a horror she had yet to learn about. She doesn't pay too much attention always want to give them relative privacy especially in moments like this.
But she hears just enough, tales of a lab and boiling pain and a tank of water. Of coming back to hear how they wanted to erase his memory and make others just like him.
Al hates to imagine the information she doesn't know and desides it's something better left to more understanding ears. Wade after all is no stranger to being an experiment.
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xpulchritudinousx · 2 months ago
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something you'd never expect
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Summary: You’re Bakugo’s wife and he’s finally introducing you to his friends… But things take a turn. Disclaimer: This might be a sensitive subject to some people, there’s nothing NFSW, but it briefly talks about fertility issues. If this triggers you at all, please don’t read, I don’t want anyone to be uncomfortable when reading my content.
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The doorbell of your home rang, with Bakugo looking exhausted already at the idea of having to deal with his friends. Opening the door to see everyone. He was just about to tell them to come in when you shove your head over his shoulder to see them. “Are these guys your friends?” You ask him in English, looking them all over before shoving your hand up to take a sip out of your milkshake as you look at them all. Katsuki just sighs, giving you a forced glare, trying to get you to behave for once. “They’re not my… Forget it, just move so I can let them in.” His words rang half hearted, not really having the energy to do anything. Pausing when he sees you move and give him an apologetic look, his expression morphing to be fond as he pats your head before walking you over to the couches. Everyone looked shocked to see him actually let you eat somewhere other than the dining table. What happened to their high strung Bakugo that they know and love? “Katsuki, could you get me some fries?” “You just put them in the fridge?” “I know but I changed my mind and don’t wanna get up.” “...Fine.” That’s how he ended up getting up and going to reheat your leftovers while you sat with his friends. At times like this, they wished Mina had more free time for them, they still didn't know how to talk to girls, even at their grown age. “So how’d you meet Bakugo?” Sero asked you in English, trying not to be insensitive to the fact that you were clearly only communicating in it. “Oh he was in America when he was working on Izuku’s suit and-” Katsuki gives you a panicked look from the kitchen, looking over the counter as he waved his hand cut-throat style to tell you to stop talking about it. Not wanting the details of your unsteady citizenship in the country be discussed until his lawyers figured everything out. “We got along cuz we both like food and kinda fell in love I guess.” Katsuki’s expression fell to an unimpressed one hearing how much of the story you skipped over. He knew you were trying not to go into the details, but damn… He forgot how bad you were at reading social cues. “Of course that’s what it was.” Denki says, making everyone else just smile awkwardly. It was laughable how much of a softie their friend actually was, finally coming back after microwaving your fries and adding some more salt to it. Bringing you the little paper cup they were kept in and wiping some whipped cream you got on your cheek. His action had you beaming at him, moving to press a kiss to his as thanks, not noticing how red his ears turned at the action. He sighed a bit, fiddling with the little ring on your finger quietly, wait no correction that thing was huge, what the hell? Bakugo definitely wasn’t cheap, that much is becoming more and more apparent. The way you were dressed finally settled into their brains, pale colors and lace trimming. The group’s jaws just drop, not expecting his wife to genuinely be his polar opposite. Beaming widely, wearing pale white accents with your clothes looking more dressed up next to him wearing all black and dressed in track pants. What’s he doing with a princess? That’s when they saw you munch down on your fries with a blissful look on your face, reaching for the little bag of goldfish you had and some cheese sticks. You were eating a lot actually, they didn’t notice until now. Watching you finish up and start gulping down at that giant milkshake in a size they didn’t even know restaurants served.
They all pause, faces pulled into awkward little smiles or looks of complete shock. Of course he married someone who eats just as much as him. The sight of you happily sipping on your milkshake as you hug his side was an interesting one, with his face expressionless as he rubs his hand up and down on your shoulder. He was letting you be affectionate with him?! No, he was the one being affectionate… Did you have him for ransom or something? Actually, he looked pretty happy, or as happy as he could really show? 
Katsuki looks at you, expression held calm as he brings a hand to the top of your head, sighing a bit at how sweet you looked in the moment. As silent as he tried to keep it he was weak to you, so weak that he could barely hide it. “You said if I took you to get something unhealthy you’d only have a little bit of the food today, you finished the whole bag.” He chides as he gently runs his thumb over your cheek. Kirishima being ever the gentleman comes to your defense, furrowing his eyebrows in concern. “Hey man, let her eat what she wants.” The defense just left Katsuki slightly miffed, looking over to his friend tiredly. “It’s not like that, I just-” Katsuki pauses when he notices you going over to the kitchen, eyes shooting wide before turning on the couch and looking over it to you. “Hey! What did I say about snacks?” Your shoulders slump cartoonishly, looking at him with a frown.  “To eat fruit or to ask you to make me something…” Katsuki gives you a stern look, watching you stop yourself from opening the pantry where all your favorite snacks were. Sighing in disappointment with himself for even letting you convince him to buy all of that. “Right, and what are you doing right now?” Your expression looks more ashamed at his words, looking down as you kicked your foot to the tile of the floor a bit. “I’m not doing either of them.” With that you mope and walk back over to him, snuggling to his side quietly, leaving him to feel the tiniest twinge of guilt. Sighing as he pets your head with a look of concern, muttering into your hair as he brings you closer. “I’m sorry, you know I’m not trying to upset you. But you know what the doctor said, we’ve gotta eat healthy for everything to work…” 
The small intimate moment just had his friends sitting there nearly the color of ghosts, looking at him with their jaws nearly hitting the floor. Finally, one of them spoke up, the four of them doing their best to not go speechless every time they saw him interacting with you as if it was a crazy phenomenon.  “What exactly do you need to work?” Sero asked, giving Katsuki a slightly sceptical look, unsure how he was going to react to the question.
Everyone’s mouths went from wide open to snapped shut when Katsuki sighs, looking at you quietly before letting himself admit it. “We’ve been going to the doctor a lot lately… We’ve been trying for a baby and things have been… Hopeless.” He admits, bringing his hand down from your cheek to your shoulder, squeezing it in reassurance when he feels your mood shift.  Your eyes downcast as you lean into him, fighting the urge to bring your hand to your tummy. Fingers clutching into your skirt, words quiet as you speak in English; still struggling with Japanese even after the months went on, catching onto what he was telling his friends. “I’m the reason we can’t and I wanted it…” You whisper out, quickly being shushed by Katsuki, his hand running over your hair as he pressed a chaste kiss to your head.  “It doesn’t matter, we’re doing it no matter what.” He promised, sighing a bit when you nod but head off your room. His eyes glued to the floor, expression ridden in nothing but guilt, looking back over to his friends tiredly. “Not a word.” He threatened, getting up and following behind you.  The four just sat there, looking at one another with furrowed eyebrows, Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari speaking to each other about it. Concern written all over their expressions as they let their thoughts run wild. “Man, that’s tough. I never would’ve thought Bakugo would even want to be a dad, but this? This is just…”
“Depressing?” Kaminari fills in, looking less sad and more concerned. “I hate to say it, but maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. I mean he just bought a Porsche, that’s not exactly a baby safe car. Not to be the bearer of bad news, but Bakugo isn’t exactly the most nurturing guy around.”  Kirishima furrowed his eyebrows at Sero’s words, fidgeting a bit as he adjusted himself in his seat, sighing a bit as he conceded to it. “I mean yeah, he couldn’t have been with her for that long if we never knew about them, plus she can barely even get a sentence in Japanese out. But still… That’s gotta be rough.”
Izuku finally spoke up, having been quiet as he processed his thoughts with his eyes to the ground. “Kachan’s a lot more capable than you guys are giving him credit for. He never does anything without thinking. This makes sense though, he’s been a lot less angry and more just sad. We should be more supportive, he probably won’t say it, but he wants to know he has hope, especially when he has to be the one to give it to her right now.” Like usual whenever Izuku speaks up, everyone goes quiet for a minute, contemplating the way he sees things more clearly than them. Always analyzing the little details until they come together for him to fully understand the situation.
“I guess I never thought of it like that.” Kirishima admitted, with Kaminari chiming in to agree.  Katsuki finally came back without you after a bit, not saying a word with his eyes puffy and slightly reddened. Keeping his responses short and offering up some tea, not responding when Kaminari asks about where you went. Simply saying goodbye to everyone without you when they took the hint that now wasn’t a good time for him to have company.
Even with all of them walking out together in silence, Izuku hoped the next time they came by, things would be different… The next time they’d come over would be a couple months later when Katsuki called them over to help with some housing adjustments. You opened up the door for them with a wide smile and noticeable change in your figure. Walking in to see him working on building a pink playpen and watching you rush over to him to hug his side, the blond letting out a little huff as he brings his hand to your head, leaning it closer as he rested his own to it. The four of them watched for a second. Kirishima smiling, with Kaminari and Sero processing it for a second, looking halfway to tears, but Izuku was beaming. Looks like you guys are going to have a girl.
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thank you for reading, kind words and comments r always welcome!
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lunar-years · 4 months ago
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It's really interesting how Peeta's quiet rebellion in the first games is kind of completely overlooked by everyone, right down to President Snow, while Katniss emerges as The Singular Target. To the extent that by the end of the book when they meet Snow, Katniss can tell right away that only she is to blame for the berry trick, whereas Peeta is quickly dismissed and then for a long time, an afterthought,
Like, yes, the berry trick was Katniss' idea, but it comes to her straight from Peeta's rhetoric!! "They have to have a Victor, Katniss" and before that on the cornucopia, when Katniss asks him why they won't just let Cato die already and Peeta responds "you know why." Like...both statements are vague enough to maybe not seem of any big concern to the Capitol, but Katniss is directly picking up on the undercurrent of his words. And you can't convince me that by the time they actually go to put the berries in their mouths, Peeta isn't fully aware of the same thing Katniss is: the Capitol won't let them both die. They need their Victor, or it falls apart. Yet to Snow and the Capitol, they truly believe Peeta is just a lovestruck idiot carrying out a double suicide so they can be together forever, Romeo & Juliet style. Whereas Katniss, in their POV, is doing it out of direct malice towards the Capitol, not love for Peeta. Even Haymitch doesn't let Katniss and Peeta talk afterwards and only tells Katniss the reality of the situation in the Capitol because he thinks that if Peeta finds out the truth he'll get too upset or won't be able to handle it and things will blow up.
This is after an entire Games where Peeta has been doing something that I have to imagine is pretty unprecedented, and definitely in contradiction to the entire mindset of the Games, which that he neglects his own self preservation instincts and safety to protect and save Katniss. He's kind of playing the Capitol the whole time, because right from the beginning he's refusing to participate in the inherent selfishness and division they try to sow in the Games. And he's doing so in ways he can easily get away, because Snow and by extension the Capitol don't see love as anything other than a form of weakness.
And I'm not trying to say that Peeta is this mastermind deliberately plotting intentional rebellion from page one, because yeah, his actions are largely purely driven by love for Katniss. But the thing the Capitol can't understand is that for Peeta, that love has always been inseparable from rebellion. One necessities and fuels the other. The paragraph Katniss spends lamenting on how horrified Peeta would probably be if he heard the way she and Gale talk about the Capitol in the woods is almost laughable as a reader, because girl, Peeta would absolutely be right there with you. Meanwhile, Katniss is shocked at herself when she so much as thinks the word 'murder' for the first time in relation to a death in the Games. It's just fascinating!
And again, that's not to say Katniss isn't also very much rebellious, especially as the narrative goes forward, but what's key is that her rebellion also stems out of love, and it strengthens over the course of the books as her love strengthens. Her first act of rebellion is volunteering out of love for her sister. And then slowly, her mindset in the game evolves from pure survival as she comes to love Rue, then Peeta. In nearly every case it's love that prompts further rebellion. The Capitol just can't see it because they can tell the star-crossed lovers narrative is on her end, but not Peeta's, a ruse. That's why Katniss is singled out as a threat and Peeta isn't. And by the time the Capitol/Snow realizes the love is reciprocated and that Peeta is the key weapon to use against Katniss, the love is already so deeply rooted that nothing can stop the rebellion that follows.
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windser · 5 months ago
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some people think zayne is competition for caleb, but that’s laughable. zayne’s too smart for that. he’s not about petty rivalries or juvenile posturing. if anything, they’ve always played on the same team—not bros before hoes, but bros for hoes.
it starts with a glance. not from caleb, but from zayne. the first time he notices the way caleb looks at you. maybe there’s a flicker of something in caleb’s expression, the barest hint of unease, like he wonders if zayne might be a problem. josephine is already on his ass, pressing too close with her suspicion, warning him that he’s getting too attached.
so yeah, caleb’s tense when zayne starts inviting himself over. he expects scrutiny, a quiet kind of policing, but instead, there’s just a pattern.
zayne is always there—but not really. just an extra presence in the room, his back turned, head bent over a textbook, fingers skimming the edge of a page like he’s the only person in the world. he’s deep in the grind, the relentless pursuit of academia, as if nothing beyond equations and medical journals exists.
at first, caleb doesn’t think too hard about it. zayne’s already got promising feedback from a medical institution. he’s miles ahead, practically untouchable. why would he—?
but then there’s this.
"caleb—not here."
your whisper is breathless, a warning, but caleb only presses in closer, his mouth finding the juncture of your neck, slow and deliberate. he’s watching zayne, though. watching the way his back remains rigidly straight, his hand steady over his notebook.
almost steady.
it’s subtle, but caleb catches it—the way zayne flinches. not in shock. no, it’s something else. something slower. like a split-second adjustment, a muscle memory that barely needs activation. and then, instead of turning to investigate, zayne exhales. his shoulders relax.
like he was waiting.
that’s when it clicks.
growing up, zayne probably only tolerated their presence. he was the kind of kid whose parents nudged him toward friendships he didn’t necessarily need, and the years stacked up between them until they became a fixture in his orbit. but not once did it ever translate into this kind of closeness.
zayne never needed study buddies. he never needed distractions while preparing for his entrance exams.
but caleb did.
and now, they’re of age. the warnings have been drilled into their heads. josephine has been more reluctant to leave you two alone, always lurking just out of sight, ears pricked for any telltale signs of impropriety. caleb isn’t sure if the old woman ever caught anything, but she didn’t have to. she saw the aftermath. the wreckage in the form of your flushed skin, your glassy eyes, the way your breath came a little too fast.
not that caleb would ever blame you for it.
he’s patient, after all. he was ready to wait. just another year, and he'd be gone—out of the house, and you would follow.
he could have waited.
really.
and then zayne walked in and handed it to him on a silver platter.
zayne, whose presence gave josephine the confidence to leave the house without worry, to meander around in the garden or run errands that had been pushed off for weeks.
zayne, the responsible one.
caleb’s attention flickers back to you, his voice nothing more than a murmur against your skin as he adjusts you in his lap, his hands smoothing over your hips with easy confidence. he isn’t rushed anymore. he isn’t cautious.
because zayne never says a word.
he doesn’t react when your voice carries a little too far, when the hush of movement is broken by the unmistakable shift of bodies and the low sound of satisfaction. his pen remains steady, ink bleeding into the paper, his notes pristine, untouched by the obvious.
if anything, caleb almost finds it funny—the way zayne calmly, methodically gathers his things, the way his timing is always impeccable. like clockwork, he packs up right before josephine’s return, his composure iron-clad.
but caleb notices something this time.
the effort.
the way zayne fights to keep his gaze steady, resisting the pull toward where you’re sprawled against the cushions, utterly pliant, eyes heavy-lidded with exhaustion.
zayne adjusts his bag strap, voice even as ever. "i practice for my exams on tuesdays and thursdays. a different setting from home helps me think."
caleb—bare-chested, his shirt lazily draped over the back of the couch—can only grin.
"see you thursday then."
and like the perfect host, caleb is already put together by the time he reaches the door ahead of zayne, just as josephine steps inside, her face warmed by the afternoon sun, relaxed and smiling.
"stay for dinner?" she offers, ever hospitable.
zayne declines, as he always does.
caleb shuts the door, steering her toward the kitchen with practiced ease, all charm and timing.
"i can help, gran."
and behind them, you sleep peacefully.
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revelboo · 9 months ago
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Everything is Alright Pt1
Starscream x Reader
18+ 🌶️
• Absolutely an accident. Scouting excursion gone wrong when he’s spotted and ambushed by quite possibly the two most obnoxious Autobots he’s ever had the displeasure to deal with, Jazz and Bumblebee. Damaged, he’s forced to fly low, darting down a far too narrow forested road in his alt mode with those persistent Autobots right on his aft.
• You’re just in the wrong place at the wrong time, taking a ride through the country in your little sedan. You just needed to get away, relax and destress from home and work. Music cranked as your mind wanders, you almost don’t hear the scream of the jet flying obscenely low, wingtips clipping and shattering tree limbs to rain down on the road.
• When you do notice, your eyes dart up to the rear view mirror and there’s a moment of just flat disbelief, because there’s no way. Then the jet screams over the top of your car so close you swear it scrapes the paint and you’re slamming on the brakes, hauling at the wheel as this bright yellow sports car tears past on your left, a white car right on its fender.
• You never were a fantastic driver, losing control and heading straight into the tree line, head bouncing off the wheel. There’s a sound of thunder, the pounding staccato drowning out the frantic drumming of your heart. No, not thunder. Weapons firing at the jet.
• It’s the saboteur not the scout that manages a direct hit, forcing Starscream to transform and hit the asphalt at a run, staggering and nearly pitching face first into the trees as he turns to return fire. Both Autobots already transformed and no doubt calling for backup.
• Outnumbered, but hardly out gunned. Still, this wasn’t how he had his day planned, baring his denta at the two Autobots and feeling energon dripping along his side. And once their backup showed?
• It’s almost serendipity when you stagger out of your car, concussed and shell shocked to blunder into the road. Between Starscream and the two nuisances. He’d seen the car go off the road, but hadn’t cared about whatever had been inside. Humans, ugh. But Jazz and Bumblebee both stop firing, staring in no small amount of shock at you.
• And there you are, staring up at him with wide eyes. Not screaming. Not running for your squishy, little life, because your brain is definitely shaken, not stirred. All you can do is gape up at the giant, alien robots with guns in dumb silence and wonder if you’re in fact still in the car bleeding out while your damaged brain spins sci-fi nonsense cotton candy in your last moments.
• And the Autobots are holding fire, because of you. To try and not accidentally kill your very unlucky self. Starscream only sees a get out of jail free card, lunging and closing his servos on you, arm extended to hold you out in front of him like a laughably pathetic shield. Except it works. Neither Autobot moves, weapons faltering.
• The panic kicks in, breaking through the pained fog and you struggle against his far too tight grip, but are ignored. Your heart’s hammering against your ribs, tangling with the pain pounding in your addled head. It’s too much, fear twisting inside you as he laughs. The other two alien robots still have their weapons drawn, but they’re pleading that you be let go.
• Starscream’s still laughing as he says, “No.” Injuries screaming at him, he grimaces as he tucks you to his chassis and transforms around you, trapping you inside while he tries very hard to not think about the fact that there’s a nasty, dripping little human inside him as he bolts.
• He keeps you trapped when he returns to base, pinned inside his canopy as he sneaks back to his quarters to dump you into an empty energon cube, because he has no idea what to do with you now. Squishing you to a paste is definitely an option, but as you stare dumbly up at him in shock, still not screaming, he wonders if he might keep you instead. Especially if you can be dangled in front of those idiot Autobots to save his own aft.
• Slowly self preservation shatters the numb terror, letting you look around and actually see your surroundings. You never were that athletic and there’s no climbing out of the clear box he’s dropped you in. But you’re alive. When the big alien that kidnapped you starts muttering and generally lamenting about you, the “Autobots,” and his life in general, you hesitantly agree with him in a hushed voice, because staying on his good side? Probably a good idea for your continued existence.
• He’s shocked, wings lifting slightly as he vents and stares. You… agreed with him? This mech craves validation and you offer it up freely and yes, he’s flustered, before straightening slightly. Because of course you agree, how could you not? So he rants, almost preening when you make little commiserating noises. You’re in turn shocked when he moves across the room to drop a polishing cloth as big as a queen sized sheet on top of you. You’re not sure if it’s an olive branch or not, but you seize upon it with both hands, wrapping the cloth around you to fight off the chill in the metal room and taking the time to run your fingers through your hair to catalog how badly beat up you are.
Next
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4-the-l0ve-0f-art · 2 months ago
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"Caleb becomes a wet rat (and gets unpixelated?!)"
Chapter 6: Homecoming Wings
Pairing: Caleb x GN Reader
Word count: 1180
Genre: Reverse isekai, fluff, romance, comedy, supernatural, angst, slow burn
Rating: General Audiences
Triger Warnings: none
A/N: I recommend replaying through Homecoming Wing's first part of chapter 1 while reading this !! i've also made a tag for this fic called fic: wet rat caleb which will be used to post updates on the future chapters and bonus content related to this story, just for fun
<< previous next >> Tumblr Chapter List Ao3 Link
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Caleb was knocked out of his thoughts by your excited chattering.
“Let’s goooo!!! Caleb’s chapter released!” His head whipped towards your direction.
You looked up, sensing the stare. “Oh, not you, Caleb. I meant, like, Caleb-Caleb, you know? The actual Caleb from the game.” You lifted up the ipad to show him your screen. It was only for a brief moment, and Caleb was unable to catch what was written on the screen.
Caleb’s eyes narrowed. This was his chance.
He walked over and jumped on the couch, sitting right next to you. He glanced at the ipad and then back to your face.
You were staring at him in shock.
Oh. Oh my god. He’s sitting next to me.
He blinked at you with his purple eyes, not saying anything. His tail flicked to his side.
Okay. Okay. Stay calm. You don’t want to scare him away by reacting too loud.
“You really are interested in Caleb, huh? I knew it.. Even cats are going to like him.” You turned your focus back to the ipad in your lap, which was currently on the chapter selection menu for the main story.
Are we really talking about me? This much enthusiasm.. It’s unsettling. 
Caleb was a bit confused. He knew for sure that the man on the screen was him, but he didn’t understand why you were so excited when you saw him. Both of you had watched the same video.
There was still a lot Caleb didn’t understand about the video. The man was him, but it wasn’t him. 
“Did you honestly think I would always be the kind hearted boy from your childhood?”
He was talking to someone. Someone from his childhood?
There was no one. No one worth remembering, anyway.
What disturbed him more was the experiment report.
[They are the optimal weapon for destroying each other. This experiment is never to be restarted.]
One thing he was sure about was that there was no one, absolutely no one, who had been turned into a weapon the same way he was. That is how he rose to the ranks of Colonel, and that is how it’s supposed to remain. There was no one who had been able to endure the experiments long enough to be as powerful as him. 
And that is why he didn’t understand what was going on in the video.
Or what was going on in general, to be fair. He had turned into a cat. A cat!
And here I thought things couldn’t get any worse when grandma was killed.
Snapping back to reality, he read the text on your ipad screen.
Homecoming Wings: Vanishing Skyward.
He watched your eyes twinkle.
“The background is so beautiful. That’s Skyhaven, I think..” 
You were right. It was a picture of Skyhaven from a distance. He could recognize the layout of that island anywhere, it was his base after all. Or his prison. Depends on how you look at it.
“Let’s find out what you’ve been up to while MC has been suffering, Caleb.” You poked his head gently.
He narrowed his eyes on you. It was amusing how you talked to a cat, but the cat was still him. The situation was somewhat laughable, he thought.
You tapped on the block titled “01 Story: Infiltration”.
He read the text on the screen alongside you. It looked like it was written from someone else’s perspective.
“She’s dreaming about the explosion?” You muttered, focused on the screen.
Caleb’s eyes widened as the words “Aether Core”, “Ever”, and Bloomshore District Explosion” appeared on the screen one by one.
The scene seemed to switch from an office to the scene of an explosion. 
Reporter A - “It’s been a week since the explosion in the Cascade District. The Farspace Fleet still has the region under lockdown.”
Caleb was baffled.
You stared at the screen in silence for an entire minute once the cutscene ended.
“Did you see that?” Caleb wasn’t sure if you were talking to him or yourself. Frankly, he didn’t care. He was just as shocked as you.
“I think infold really loves to introduce their characters while they kill someone.” You said, referencing a certain white haired man with a crow.
Caleb, on the other hand, was lost in thought.
The scenes that had just unfolded on the screen hadn’t happened too long ago to him. He had killed the man who had tried to sink his ship in the deepspace, on his first mission as Colonel. It had been a couple months since then and Caleb had adjusted well to the endless attempts at people trying to dethrone him, courtesy of Ever.
It was a weird experience watching it unfold from a different perspective, however. And even weirder when it’s from an ipad screen of a random person who didn’t know he was right there, next to them.
At this moment, his life felt like a fever dream.
Currently, you’re having the biggest crash out you’ve had since you started playing this game. And a cat was witnessing it all, sitting at his place next to you on the couch.
“Girl, oh my god..” 
“You did not just get drugged by that guy. You did not—” You cut yourself off.
You looked at the cat next to you.
“Caleb, Do you see this shit? Do you???”
Caleb did, in fact, see the shit. And saying that he was flabbergasted would be an understatement. 
“They deserved a better reunion scene. What the fuck was that?? “It really is me.” Who says that after being declared dead?” You mimicked Caleb’s voice line, clearly annoyed.
“And the MC just.. Accepted it? And then proceeded to stay at his home?”
That was not what Caleb was worried about. He was more so focused on the fact that he was a video game character in this world. And with a story which was eerily similar to his own, at that.
Just without the hunter.
I have no idea what you’re talking about. Caleb continued watching as you ranted.
“There's so much shit going on in this story, man..”
Strangely enough, Caleb didn’t think that his actions in the story were out of character for him. He didn’t resonate with the need to protect someone like the MC in the game, but in the end, he had still ended up in the same position as the other version of himself, regardless of whether that hunter was in the picture or not.
He had been forced to survive on his own either way. The only difference was that he had no one waiting for him at the end of it all. His desperation was fueled by his need to feel even a semblance of control over his life, which had been thrown into disarray since he was young.
And it was happening once again. This time, with an obviously cat-shaped dilemma.
Yet, maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mind it as much.
A certain someone sitting next to him was altering his reality, oblivious to it all.
And he was starting to accept it.
---
Taglist: @roseapov @mangooes @zukini-01 @browneyedgirl22 @mavix @staristoo @hohoooowhy @pirana10 @lunia-likes-pomegranet @bertieorangy @heyimseli @xxnessinessiellexx @mcdepressed290 @mentaltrouble2201 @stardustsunflowers13 @I-lover9 @destheoren @ixloom819 @super-nerder @mazlodowki @friedmagazineprincess @celestialzdiviner @deadghosy @fishwasher8 @dummiebunny @etsuniiru @wegottastayfocus @astraecho
A/N: You can DM me or comment if you want to be tagged in this series and it'll be done in the future parts !!
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lynnuvo · 10 months ago
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୨⎯ Long Gone Princess ⎯୧
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Characters: Yan!Thief x (Y/N) reincarnated as Rapunzel A lot of you guys enjoyed the Cinderella version, so why not make a Rapunzel version? Very much considering making this a Yan!Fairytales Series.
Stowed Away
When you first awoke in your tower, you panicked for days. There was literally no way out, no matter how much you clawed at the bricks. It didn't take long to figure out where exactly you were. Who else would paint a mural of herself, seriously long-haired, gazing at floating lanterns?
Meeting Mother Gothel was the most anxiety-inducing thing you had to push through. You pitied the real Rapunzel for falling victim to her sugar-coated, poisonous words. As much as you internally cringed at them, it wouldn't serve you well to raise suspicion. After all, you have nowhere to go.
Whenever Mother Gothel was gone and you finished tidying up the tower, you emptied one of your chests full of female paraphernalia and stuffed some "safety equipment inside." Hopefully, Mother Gothel wouldn't notice a missing pair of scissors. Or a few darts.
Your now abnormally long hair was disturbing, to say the least. It was pretty, but now that you were living her life, you wandered how Rapunzel managed to put up with the hair strands scattered around the house, washing the heap of keratin proteins for hours in just ONE day, and sleep knowing there was at least some hair flowing to the floor. And let's be real: you were not going to spend most of your day braiding it just to remove your work whenever Mother Gothel came back.
Unfortunately, you couldn't afford to cut your hair--not just because it'd give Mother Gothel a heart attack but because it might help you. It did have magical healing powers. The only huge problem was that you were not skilled enough to maneuver your hair like Rapunzel. In addition, if you were to leave the tower, how would you return? Until you found the secret entrance amongst all the brick, you needed a backup plan.
One day, you gathered the courage to ask Mother Gothel for more fabric to sew a beautiful wedding dress, one that was colorful and very long. Of course, you left out the part where you wanted it to be long enough to reach the bottom of the tower (it'd be a lot of work, but what else were you going to do to escape?). She was skeptical about the idea behind the dress, but you reassured her that you just wanted something like those girls in the fairytale books you had in your room. After her lecture about the dangers of the world, she agreed to get you fabric.
My Savior
One morning, while you sowed your dress, you heard the sound of metal jabbing into something growing closer and closer. In a panic, you shut off your sewing machine and tied up as much as your hair as possible. There was no way you could capture Rapunzel's beloved thief the way she did. You vaguely prepared for what to do when he arrived, but you hadn't expected it to be that day!
At last, he fell into the tower and froze at the sight of you. He glanced behind him and turned back around, stepping away from the window with hands up. "Uh. I am so sorry for breaking into your home."
You pointed one of your scissors (used to cut fabric earlier) at him with a glare. "I'll forgive you if you hand me that bag you have."
"Listen, miss, I think we can sort this out without--"
"The bag or I'll throw you back down."
He gulped and reluctantly threw you the bag, begging you to please return it to him afterwards. The shock he had at your nonchalant expression while pulling out the most sparkly crown you've ever seen was laughable. In reality though, you were in awe. You quickly snapped out of it, though, and threw it behind you. You both cringed at the clanging it made as it hit the floor.
"I need you to listen to me," you started, gripping your scissors and your dress. "I need your help."
You didn't hesitate to cut to the chase. You explained that you were kidnapped by a woman claiming to be your mother and trapped in the tower by her. Although it may backfire on you later, you shared that you were reincarnated from another world. He was in disbelief until you told him his full name, his criminal history, the companions he had who would soon betray him, and the small cottage he visited along with many more criminals or outlaws. He challenged that you just did your research, but then you told him what crime he had just committed: stealing the missing princess's crown, which was--by the way--you.
After some back and forth, he agreed to help on the condition that you return the crown. You agreed to return it on the condition that he not only help you escape but also help you live in safety.
Together, you both clawed at the bricks on the wall until the secret backdoor was found. He helped you come up with a way to hide the new backdoor again whenever Mother Gothel returned.
You found a pattern in the earlier months leading up to then on Mother Gothel's pattern of visitation. She comes back every three or four days in early evening. If she didn't return by the time the sun disappeared, she wouldn't be back at all. That day was one of those days she wasn't going back. You suspected she wouldn't return for a while since she had just left the day before. Although hesitant at the idea of a new roommate, you demanded that Yan!Thief spend the night in the same room as you. He balked at what he thought was an implication, but he soon found himself sleeping on the floor (you dropped a blanket for him). How were you sure he wouldn't use the secret backdoor while you slept? You boobietrapped it before bed, making sure he stayed in the room so he wouldn't see under the threat of murder.
Steal His Heart
Your new routine was a scary turn but also surprisingly relieving. Yan!Thief would leave the tower in search of a new home for you (and him too) and would return in the afternoon only if a piece of purple fabric hung outside the window. Otherwise, it wasn't safe to come back.
Although your relationship started off rocky (who's to blame him with how violently you approached him?), you two soon warmed up to each other. He sometimes returned with small goods that you sometimes got a clear answer for how he retrieved. That chocolate he got for you both to try? He pickpocketed it. That ripe fruit that tasted like mildew spring? He dodged all of the questions.
Eventually, you gathered the courage to leave the tower with him. Your activities differed from there. Sometimes, you both ventured a little ways from the tower to discover the terrain and help find a new home. Sometimes, you both would spend the day walking around, learning more about each other and chatting away.
With no other companion, it came as no surprise to Yan!Thief that he developed romantic feelings for you. You didn't want to admit that you did too. At least, not until you both were in a safe place.
At last, Yan!Thief found an abandoned shelter. It was rusty, but it was closer to the kingdom than the tower but sheltered away like the tower. With a pounding heart, you gathered as much as you could from your tower into a backpack that Yan!Thief had brought over and left forever. In the shelter, you cut your hair, rendering it free from its power. Yan!Thief initially didn't want it to happen due to your great abilities, but one look at your determined face told him that you knew better.
The next couple weeks was spent in paranoia, you in fear of Mother Gothel and him in fear of guards. Luckily, you two went as far as making it into the kingdom without getting caught.
One day, you brought up the idea of revealing your identity to the king and queen while fidgeting with your crown. You reassured Yan!Thief that you'd vouch for his safety and freedom for as much as possible. It took a while for him to warm up to that, but you two finally made your way towards the castle.
Everything went surprisingly as planned. The kingdom rejoiced at the return of their princess, Yan!Thief was spared of a prison sentence and was even given a home and job as a prize for bringing you back, and the dead, rotten body of Mother Gothel was found not far from the shelter you and Yan!Thief had found.
Life was a fairytale.
MY Princess
Until it wasn't.
See, although you and Yan!Thief seemed to start opening a romantic chapter, that soon closed. With your newfound title came new responsibilities, friends, and much to his worries, a possible new love interest.
He tried his best to remain just a friend to you, but it was unbelievably hard. He couldn't believe that you were slowly forgetting him, your savior! Why must you abandon your knight in shining armor?!
He did feel guilty for not appreciating his new life more. Any other criminal would probably fight tooth and nail to be in his position, but he just wasn't happy if you weren't there with him.
Once his selfishness began to boil over, he devised a plan he wasn't sure if he was going to regret. He paid a visit to your room in the castle (you had given your dear best friend special permission) and chatted with you a bit. You apologized for being so distant as of late; royal duties had been keeping you at bay. He accepted your apology more readily than he had expected. It was hard not to with your bright smile and the cute way you pushed your hair behind your ears. He asked if you had time to visit the old tower for memories sake, and you happily agreed. The kingdom had yet to find the tower (you insisted to him that you wanted it kept secret in case you needed to run away again), so you simply told your guards you were heading out for a stroll.
Once at the tower, you two ventured inside and reveled at how dramatic your lives had changed. You even reminisced your life before being reincarnated. As the sun fell, you got up and suggested that you both should head back before it gets dark.
"Yan!Thief?" You peered at his gloomy expression. "Is everything okay?"
He nodded. got up, and hugged you. You let out a gasp before embracing him back. When he left go, you caught a tear slipped down his cheek. Your hands shot up to cup his face. "Yan!Thief?! What's wrong? I'm here. Did something happen?"
He sniffled and brushed a hand over your cheek. "I'm so sorry."
You were about to demand an explanation until you caught a glimmer shine from a blade in his other hand.
When you woke, you found your ankle chained to your bed--not your bed in the beautiful castle you were meant to be in but in the tower you had escaped from a year ago.
Yan!Thief came in the room and apologized with tears streaming down his face, exclaiming that you were just too irresistible to give to any other man or even the kingdom. He promised to take care of everything.
No matter how much you screamed, threw items in a fit of rage, or revealed that you only had romantic feelings for him all this time, he wouldn't budge. It was only until he bought a longer chain that he freed you from the bed. Your heart broke when you discovered he had discarded the wedding dress you had worked hard on and abandoned in the tower long ago, and even more so when you saw that he had built a new door in front of the original secret entrance.
You were back to square one, only this time with no way out and betrayed by the one person you truly trusted in this universe.
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vampiradelmal · 11 months ago
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patrick hockstetter x naive fem reader? 😋
this has been in my inbow for about a year. TW: Patrick, mocking religion, Patrick gets his own second warning
The Pastor's Daughter
Patick x Fem!Reader Patrick Hockstter is God.
In his own head, of course.
However, before he is a part-time self-proclaimed god, he is also the son of Patricia "Trisha" Hockstetter, Derry's most devout Baptist.
And while he could usually get away with skipping out on Sunday mass, this one was different. A new pastor was being brought into the church as the last pastor had gone to the pearly gates, and Trisha, eager to push her son closer to God, forced him to go with her.
After a long morning of arguing, Patrick was forced into his Sunday best, booted into the car, and forced to follow his grinning mother down the aisle. Aside from the laughable idea of there being other gods, Patrick's least favorite part about church was entering to take a seat. The judgmental stares, the hushed whispers, the blearing white. It was enough to drive him insane. He idly gazed through the crowd of phony-worshippers, grinning pridefully whenever somebody would look his way in stunned horror—which was often.
Finally stopping at the second pew, his mother ushered him in, a beaming smile on her face despite the mischievous glint in her eyes. Patrick noted this, quirking his eyebrow at her.
"What?" he mouthed as he sat down, partially sitting on something. "Nothing," she whispered, unable to hide her smile.
"Excuse me?" A quiet voice whispered from beside Patrick. "I don't mean to bother you, sir, but you're sitting on my purse."
Patrick rolled his eyes, turning in annoyance. "Then yank it." He paused, staring at the girl before him. Your eyes widened in surprise, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment.
"Oh, my apologies. I didn't realize... I thought you were a sir." You sheepishly laughed at your mistake, assuming Patrick was an older man. He stared at you, his eyes narrowing as he dissected every inch of you. Your eyes, your smile, your hair—the imaginary halo that glowed above your head.
"I am a sir," he growled, thinking you thought he was a girl.
"O-Oh? Really? Wow, you look so young!" You smiled wide, amazed by how young this "sir" looked.
"... Uh, yeah. I'm fucking 15, idiot." Patrick felt a sharp jab in his ribs, making him double over. He glared at his mom, who sneered at him until he turned back to face the girl. "My bad," he grumbled. The look of shock on your face was enough to make him smirk in amusement. Perhaps the most amused he'd ever felt in church.
"It's okay," you whispered. Your eyes were downcast as you tried to hold back a giggle. "You are very funny, uh... what is your name? Perhaps calling you sir would be weird as we are the same age." You looked back up into Patrick's eyes.
"Patrick." Another jab. "Hockstetter!" He glanced back at his mother, deeply annoyed with her antics. "Patrick Hockstter," he breathed out, placing his hand over his aching ribs.
You giggled politely, covering your mouth as you did. "Well, it's lovely to meet you, Patrick. I'm-"
"The pastor's daughter, right?" Mrs. Hockstetter interjected, taking you by surprise. You hesitated a few seconds before nodding your head. Patrick slowly turned his head to look at his mother as her plan clicked in his head. Did she really think the pastor's daughter would be a good influence on him? The thought was laughable. But this god had his own plan—to humor his mother. To get even.
He turned back to you with a charming smile. Well, as charming as he could pull off. "It's lovely to meet you," he said, taking your hand in his and gently pressing a kiss on your knuckle, enjoying how your eyes shot open. Church was suddenly starting to feel very entertaining for this god.
But of course, your father had to ruin the fun when he came out to begin his sermon and the choir started. You hesitated to pull your hand away, your eyes lingering on his until he turned away. Patrick only pulled away to hide his smirk, though. He didn't give a shit about the sermon, or the choir, or whatever the fuck his future father-in-law was spewing.
For that full hour, he sat there plotting. Every move of his had to be calculated, and they were. Glances here and there, brushing his hand against yours, gently thumbing your skin whenever it was time to join hands. And from every move blossomed a new splotch of red on your cheeks, which appeased him greatly. Even his mother looked pleased, and it took Patrick every bone in his body to not laugh at her failure of a plan. Oh, how he was going to make her look like such a fool!
By the end of mass, Patrick had you wrapped around his twisted, kind of fucked up, burnt finger. And with this newfound power, he got himself a date with the pastor's daughter at the junkyard.
To his mother's surprise, Patrick left mass with a big goofy smile on his face, giddy as he thought of the fridge he was going to show you on Friday night.
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