#also me: i have been working on a fic outline for less than a month and it's already at 33k words :)

[corviiids]

sparknotes for my souyo fic 'going on and on and on'

happy year of the souyo in 2025. it's souyo year everyone! (as always don't read the post if you haven't read the fic it won't make sense)

i feel like this is even less of a sparknotes and more of a stream of consciousness than usual but whatever. it's word vomit about interalised homophobia now

first of all the timeline, which fucked with me initially because p4 came out in 2008 and in my head i was like oh, it's set in 2008. it's NOT. it's set in 2011-2. anyway, i did some hurried bad math about it. basically yu and yosuke are a year or so post-college and are roughly 23-24 years old in this fic. nanako is 14-15. the title comes from signs of love because after i outlined the fic i checked out the lyrics to the song and was like hey. i think i just wrote that.

He said, "I'm the one who's got to leave", I said "Nobody's really got to leave 'cause I don't hear enough explanation All I need is admiration" Big frustration, bro, he goes "Life is short, we gave a shot But didn't work, honey, 'cause we had A whole lot going on and on and on"

so this idea of a post-canon souyo has been plaguing me for about a month, then i got sick and at the peak of the sick i rewatched p4a in its entirety so that was that. i think yosuke with internalised homophobia is rightfully a cornerstone of p4 fandom but lately ive been yearning for a quieter and slightly more insidious form, beyond the old standby of 'yosuke overcomes his visible bigotry, one of them confesses, and the relationship starts'. i was like, what if yosuke IS over his bigotry insofar as it applies to other people, and yu's already confessed, and that's still not enough for the relationship to start because yosuke hasn't overcome the mental block it's created for himself without his knowledge? it's harder to overcome that, because yosuke's not aware that he has any qualms left about liking guys, so he doesn't even notice he's in denial. but yu notices, and it hurts him. and go from there.

i really like yosuke a lot. i think he's the most nuanced take on the best friend character out of 3/4/5 even though i obviously have a lot of love for ryuji as well as junpei - it's not necessarily that yosuke is a better or more complex character, but that he plays more with the trope. it's sort of novel because as well as being the fun and fresh bestie (with baggage!) he is also kind of the brains of the outfit and incredibly shrewd, which is rare for the best friend trope. also, all the best friend types are insensitive at times by way of being happy-go-lucky and sort of indelicate, but yosuke also says fucked up insensitive shit in a more blase and less clumsy way, at least as compared to characters who are openly crass - it reads less as rudeness from being unthinking and more as the consequence of an undercurrent of unconscious social biases, which again is more subtle and insidious. pair that with the fact that he's a legitimately reliable, kind, and clever guy, and that makes him a really fun character to write because he never says the obvious thing. pair HIM with yu, arguably the most good-natured and patient of the three protags, and you get a super fun dynamic with the potential for a lot of heartbreak. i know im not saying anything everyone doesnt already know because souyo has been around since the stone age, but listen. souyo is one of those things that's so obviously good and popular it becomes underrated again. it's like shakespeare. yeah souyo is like shakespeare i stand by that. justice and goodness demands that every now and then you sit down and re-realise how good souyo really is.

anyway! that led me to think about, like... if yu confessed before yosuke was ready, yosuke wouldn't shun him but definitely would make it extremely obvious that this was something he wasn't ready to confront. and those socially learned biases would come out in a way that yosuke means totally innocently and even kindly, but which would nevertheless hurt as much or even more as if yosuke had openly shunned yu. the events in my head are that yu confesses to yosuke a couple of years into living together and yosuke promptly compartmentalises that shit and refuses to reflect on it any further and represses anything relevant to thinking more deeply about it. yu, my best friend, is into me. [that's something i can't think about too much.] when i waved him off, he accepted it, so it can't be that serious. [yu is the type of person to shutter his own feelings away instead of bringing them up if he thinks he won't be well-received or might upset someone else, because he's an independent person who cares about others and fears being alone, which means i can't trust him to tell me honestly if he's upset.] i'm safe to assume this is behind us and move on. [i won't think about this again unless it's brought up again. i know yu won't bring it up again.]

"... Back in second year uni—yeah, he told me he was, I dunno, interested, or whatever. I told him I'd never thought about him like that. He said that was okay. And I guess I just—I mean, I never thought about it again.” Rise considers this. “That’s kinda a weird thing to never think about again,” she says. “Your best friend confesses his love to you and you’re just like, OKAY! Really?” When she says it like that, it is kind of weird.

the comment attached to this section in the working doc: "yosuke: am i really a chill guy or is it repression"

in the fic yu mentions he kissed yosuke at least once while drunk. yu being drunk means yosuke has a perfectly good excuse to dismiss that event as a one-off and ignore it too. this is brought up in like one sentence in the fic and neither character addresses it directly or goes back to it to discuss it, and that was very important to me. i think in a lot of pining fic the focus is on the knowledge of whether or not feelings are requited. once it's clear that both parties have feelings for each other, or even that one party has feelings for the other, the major roadblock is cleared and they're able to pursue a relationship, which is why in a lot of 'getting together' fics the climactic event is, understandably, the confession! in reality things can be a lot more complicated than that :( yosuke doesn't know how he feels about yu, but is aware he feels strongly. but yu confessing and even kissing him or doing other things that make his feelings undeniable isn't enough to overcome the difficulty that yosuke is facing internally - it's not enough to make him sit down and go, yu has feelings for me, so should i think about how i feel about him?

on that note, another thing i really wanted to avoid is the idea that yu just moves out because yosuke doesn't reciprocate:

"... And if you really never felt that way about me… if we were only ever going to be friends, I would’ve been fine with that. But if you refuse to face yourself, it’s different. It hurt too much. ..." -- "... You don't want to be ready. You don’t want to confront this about yourself, the idea that you might feel that way about a guy. You want to keep living this way forever, just having fun and hiding away. And I just—I can't do it anymore, okay, Yosuke? I can't keep helping you hide. I can't keep sleeping in the next room, making you breakfast, helping you pretend away the fact that I—” He stops and sighs. “If I'm wrong, and you never felt the same, then I'm wrong. I can live with that. I just need to know you're not running away. I can't keep being your accomplice in that.”

yu's pain doesn't come from his feelings being unrequited, it's that yosuke doesn't respect himself or yu enough to be honest with himself. if yosuke had done his reflection and come to the genuine conclusion that he either doesn't like guys or does but doesn't feel that way about yu, then yu would have accepted that. in another universe i would've written a fic about genuine unrequited love where yosuke just does not feel that way about yu and yu is okay with it because he loves yosuke as his best friend and partner and would be completely fine living with him as his roommate and standing by him as his friend, content to spend time together. the only reason i can't write this fic is just because i personally think yosuke DOES reciprocate... lol. anyway as naoto brings up:

“No… Well, not really,” says Yosuke. “I mean, I guess it does, but it's not him, exactly. I just don't know how to react to this. It's a lot of pressure, you know? Him saying he's serious about me, and that he can't live with me unless I feel the same, or whatever. It's kind of too much. I know Yu likes guys, but I never even thought about that sort of thing, so it's… kind of a blindside.” Naoto seems to pick his next words carefully. “I don't believe it was ever Yu’s intention to present you with an ultimatum,” he says. “I can't imagine he would want to make your friendship contingent on reciprocating his feelings. It's none of my business, but I would encourage you to reevaluate his meaning.”

this maybe feels like a fine distinction, but it's really important for me to make!! yu's never going to hold his friendship hostage because yosuke doesn't reciprocate. this fic has almost nothing to do with how yosuke feels about yu and everything to do with how honest yosuke is with himself, and how THAT affects yu. yu is aware that every moment he spends with yosuke in this state is more time that he's enabling yosuke not to be honest with his own feelings, which forces yu not only to live in a hurtful lie but to be actively complicit in doing so. this is p4 after all! the entire theme is facing yourself and the strength of heart required to face oneself being made manifest. yu endures it for like five years and then eventually realises he can't do it anymore, either from a values perspective or from a self-care perspective. this distinction matters so much to me because of course it's a ship fic and romance tends to be at the heart of ship fic, but yosuke's romantic feelings for yu really aren't at the heart of this conflict at all. i don't want the message to be that yosuke has fixed himself via being gay for his partner. rather, his love for yu in whatever form, and the idea that yu represents the truth for him, forced yosuke to accept the truth about himself and finally enables him and yu to live in an honest way.

ok let's like briefly talk about the other ships and characters. sorry to yukiko who got almost no screentime it just happened that way.

this fic kinda has... every ship?? in it?? which was sort of intentional. i was really trying to push hard with that 'small town' thing of everyone knowing everyone, because this was what yosuke ended up using as his shield against what he was actually avoiding. he thinks it's just that inaba's world is too small and that he doesn't want to be like his friends just dating within their circles, but as yu points out, it's really not a problem to date within your friend group if that's what's working for you. i wanted yosuke to have this easy excuse to start with before eventually realising his problem isn't inaba and the solution isn't tokyo - the problem is inaba when yu isn't there, because it lost its appeal once yu left, and the solution is only tokyo when yu is with him, because tokyo loses its shine when yu leaves there too. the point is that yosuke is looking in completely the wrong direction for what's actually making him happy. his problem wasn't inaba at all, and there's nothing wrong with dating your best friend. ok i said i was gonna talk about other characters but it's yosuke again. let's talk about other characters. my point was that it's kind of a 'and they all lived happily ever after' stereotype to pair all the main characters off, but that was a Literary Decision. ok it was a Choice. i Meant to do that. probably

chie and yukiko to me are just an obvious pair. i actually initially thought about dating yukiko when i did my first p4 run but after doing her dungeon i abandoned that idea entirely because her and chie go through an entire romance arc in about four seconds flat. i dont need to sell anyone on those two. ive always had a real soft spot for kanji and naoto, but i also really like naoto and rise together, so i thought, this would be a fun way to complicate things even further for yosuke by instead of just pairing them off having them all be involved with each other in this web of casual relationships. i didn't tag any of the other ships because to be frank it's just not really about them since yosuke's mostly just focused on himself, so there's not a lot of detail in the fic about what's going on there, so here's like... a chart... btw seven months pass from the beginning of the fic until the end. at the three month mark chie and kanji go to visit yosuke. ok we go

at the start of the fic kanji and naoto are in an on-again-off-again situationship. when kanji visits yosuke at the three-month mark they're still in this state. sometime between this and the point where yosuke visits inaba, kanji and naoto settle and solidify, so by the end of the fic they are in a serious committed relationship.

naoto is bigender because all detective princes are bigender. yosuke didn't ask her pronouns but they're he/she interchangeably. she can be referred to as kanji (and rise)'s boyfriend or girlfriend but usually prefers partner. the others sometimes fumble around with this so sometimes (most often with chie and yosuke) he will just be referred to as kanji and rise's... (confusion) naoto???

rise and naoto get involved while kanji and naoto are still figuring their shit out and aren't exclusive. they are strictly casual and are not looking to be in a long-term relationship.

kanji and naoto are technically open but neither of them is seeing anyone else except for naoto seeing rise. kanji is okay with this but as naoto says in the fic he is still getting used to it. naoto and rise are prepared to end their involvement if at any point kanji decides he's not okay with it anymore. kanji is a little insecure because he isn't sure how much naoto really likes him, but once he realises how serious naoto actually is about him, he will settle down and i think he'll be fine.

rise is not interested in a long-term committed relationship right now at all. she is exceptionally chill about the interconnected relationships and is jealous of nobody. after yu and yosuke get together she and yu will shake hands and go back to being normal friends.

she gets involved with yu after yu moves back to inaba. they refer to each other as boyfriend and girlfriend but it's not that serious. yu is earnestly trying to move on from yosuke (hasn't yet) but is not attempting to do so with rise, they are just having fun. (rise calls herself yu's rebound but this is a joke)

chie and yukiko are each other's girlfriends but might come out of their holiday as fiancees. unclear

teddie is single

so that's the soap opera part of all this

i was personally really fond of the naoto and rise scenes in this, i just liked writing them a lot. naoto really suffers from being the last character added to the party and so just doesn't get the same amount of time to develop her relationship with the group or with any individual party members, which is such a shame, because she is SUCH a fun character. she and yosuke are really interesting because i would argue that (maybe outside of yu) they're the smartest characters in the party and until naoto joins the group it's yosuke filling the niche of the detective, so it's sort of a shame that they never really get to bond. this section also has one of my favourite lines in the fic which i keep expecting someone to call me out on

Whoa. Naoto’s getting more than him? Pint-sized, gender-ambiguous, awkward turtle Naoto Shirogane?

remember when everyone was saying awkward turtle? i just wanted to be true to this being a game from 2008.

anyway, there are two bits of advice to come out of the naoto and rise sections that i thought were most important to yosuke's development in this fic:

Naoto leans forward. “Yosuke,” he says gently. “I know we don't know each other particularly well, but for my part, I’ve always considered you a good friend. Would you accept a bit of well-intentioned advice?” He waits for Yosuke to jerk his head. “It's not a failure of self to admit that you want something. Just remember that, okay?”

and

Yosuke furrows his brow. “You realise it sucks, right?” he asks her. “It sucks people keep talking to me like they know me better than I know me.” Rise shrugs. “Isn’t that what friends are?” she says. “S’not like not knowing yourself makes you a dummy. That’s life. We haven’t got the TV anymore, so you gotta have friends you can count on to… to switch on the Yosuke show and spot your Shadow self when you can’t see it. Persona!”

the latter to me is about the mortifying ordeal of being known or whatever. it's about being vulnerable to others in a way you yourself aren't aware of and accepting that that isn't a bad thing all the time. i kinda want to offer yosuke some grace here as well - as irritatingly oblivious as he is, it IS kind of disconcerting and upsetting to be constantly told things about yourself like everyone thinks they know better, and it can be really uncomfortable to have a relationship with a friend reframed by finding out they feel a way about you that you weren't aware of. the stuff he has to overcome in this fic is more complex than just 'accept he likes guys' - there's a lot of introspection and acceptance required in looking inward and finding out you don't know yourself as well as you thought you did, especially if there's external pressure.

"hey rook, why didn't anybody kiss in this fic?" i personally really enjoy making you read twelve thousand words of pre-relationship and not rewarding you at all. that's the reason.

when i was first outlining the fic, i got to the confrontation that yu and yosuke have at samegawa and thought, okay, this is the part of yosuke's social link where yosuke (atlus?) fumbles his shit hard, because that entire rank reads as leading towards a love confession until yosuke is like "YOU HAVE TO PUNCH ME IN THE FACE."

so in my head i was like, this fic COULD be a fix-it for that. it could be. a different man would end the fic there and have yosuke realise his shit after yu chews him out, and it resolves by yosuke going "this time im going to ask him to kiss me instead of punch me" and then it resolves with a kiss and they live happily ever after. obviously i couldn't do that. it had to be a lot messier than that because of who i am as a person. so i dragged the outline on for another 1.5k or something after that point and the fic itself runs for another 6k.

LIKE THIS POST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I THOUGHT I WOULDN'T HAVE THAT MUCH TO SAY AND THEN IT JUST GOES ON AND ON AND ON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[cherrygirlfriend]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ i'll come to you as the first snow

pairing: rafe x reader synopsis: rafe's dead fiancée comes to pay him a visit. warnings/tags: angst, fluff wc: 1.6k a/n; inspired by this fic by me.

rafe masterlist ♡

rafe really wasn't sure what had been going on in his life for the past three months; because whenever he was awake, there was a glass of whiskey in his hand. and whatever he did remember, seemed to just be a piece of the puzzle.

one moment he was in his bed, looking at pictures of the two of you on his phone; the next moment he was weeping at your grave, his forehead pressed against your cold headstone, the next moment he woke up on a random beach on kildare island.

he knew you wouldn't approve. he knew that if you were there, you'd be telling him all about how it was an 'unhealthy coping mechanism', and how if you were alive, you'd give him the silent treatment until he promised to stop; but the thing was; you weren't there anymore. he used to roll his eyes when you used to tell him to eat better, sleep more, or drink less; but now he'd give just about anything to hear you scolding him.

the moment he found out about the accident that took you from him, the first thing rafe thought about was coke; because in his mind, that would take it all away. it would make him numb, it would make sure he wouldn't feel your death.

his first stop after having to see the aftermath of your accident was at barry's. but the moment he'd lined up four lines of the white powder with his black amex, a rolled up dollar bill between his fingers, rafe was brought back to when you were helping him get clean, holding him in your arms in the pitch-black room as he shook in your arms, his entire body covered in sweat while also being freezing cold, how hard you worked to get him through withdrawals. and he just couldn't do it.

so his only way to cope was by sinking his feelings in a bottle of overpriced whiskey, but no matter how much he drank, no matter if he blacked out, the first thing he thought about when he woke up, and the last thing he thought about when he fell asleep was always you.

and the worst thing was, the signs of your existence were slowly starting to fade. the shirts and hoodies you'd stolen from him and claimed as your own now smelled like laundry detergent, instead of the usual mixture of your perfume and sweat, the shape of your head was no longer imprinted onto the pillow right next to his, and the worst thing was that he was starting to forget the way your soft skin felt under his fingers.

rafe was sitting on the living room couch, his eyes half-lidded and heart beating slowly in his chest, a pill bottle knocked over on the coffee table in front of him, a few tablets having spilled out of it, a framed picture of the two of you from the day he'd asked you to marry him right next to him, the man rolling a half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand before taking one last swig, reveling in the way the ember liquid burned as it went down his throat. the last thing he could register was the thud of the glass as it slipped from his weak grasp and fell onto the plush carpet you'd picked out.

"come on, you can't sleep in the living room..."

rafe was half-asleep as he started to hear a familiar voice starting to come through the haze, but what started to pull him back to consciousness was the feel of a warm, soft, hand on his cheek, a thumb stroking the stubble on his skin, and as he breathed in, he could smell the cherry-scented lotion he could recognize anywhere.

his eyes were so heavy, but rafe was determined to open them, and finally when he managed to get them halfway open, in front of them was the blurry outline of someone he immediately recognized. he didn't have to see her features, because for the entire time he'd known her, she'd somehow always seemed brighter to him than anything else in the world. rafe smiled, reaching out to touch the outline's cheek. "am i dead?" rafe asked as her features slowly started to become clearer.

"no, silly." you let out a small chuckle, and he could see the way your eyes shone as you rolled them, "how about we get you to bed, sweetie?"

"alright..." rafe groaned, letting himself lean his weight on you, and as you stumbled towards the bedroom you shared, you let out adorable little laughs whenever he nearly tripped, until eventually, his back hit the soft mattress, an exaggerated groan leaving his lips.

you laughed as you climbed into bed on your own side, nuzzling into his embrace, your head on his chest, rafe's arm automatically wrapping around you and pulling you close to him. he smiled, but when his gaze turned to you, something about it changed; it became wistful, longing. his eyes turned glassy, as he looked at you, his lip trembling.

"what's wrong?" you asked, your eyes furrowing together as you brought your hand to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb, "hey, talk to me, rafe..."

"this isn't real." if he didn't feel his lips move, rafe would've thought that the person saying those words was someone else; his voice was so weak, so shaky, so different from the usual firm, confident tone he spoke in. "i'm just high, or drunk, and hallucinating." he sniffled, "and when i wake up, you're gonna be gone."

rafe didn't even notice the warm tear that rolled down his cheek until you wiped it away with your thumb, taking a deep breath as you looked at him, "i'm sorry, rafe." you said softly, pressing a kiss on his clothed chest, "i wish i could be here."

"i always thought that you'd be the one person who'd never leave me. that you'd be the thing that... that lasted forever. that i'd get to wake up next to you every morning until we're grey and wrinkled and shit." rafe chuckled bitterly, "why couldn't that happen? why does everyone always leave me?"

you bit down on your lip and sniffled, continuing to stroke your cheek, "if it was up to me i would've stayed. i would've stayed forever." you brought your face closer to his, pressing your nose against his, looking into his eyes, glimmering with tears, your reflection in his dilated pupils, "i need you to know that, rafe." you whispered, "i would've never abandoned you."

rafe hid his face into your shoulder, racked sobs muffled by your shirt. you moved your hand to stroke his hair, letting out small shh's as he cried into you, his hold on you tightening, as if you'd disappear. and he would be right. so you just let him cry as you stroked his hair.

eventually, he took a shaky breath and pulled back slightly; the sleeve of your shirt was wet with tears, and so were rafe's cheeks. you smiled softly, wiping the tears away from his skin. "i'm always going to be with you, you know."

"what, like in my heart?" he chuckled dryly, letting out an accidental sniffle.

"well, yeah." you smile, cupping his cheek, "but also in the moon when you look up at night. in the stars, in every raindrop that rains down. in the first snow and each one after that, in every word you speak, and every ." you brought your face closer to his, "i'm saying that i'm in everything around you. you're not getting rid of me that easily."

"promise?"

"i promise." you said softly, bringing your lips to his, and for the first time since your death, rafe felt something much better than happiness; he felt serenity. the way your lips molded against his seemed to be the thing that completed him, that managed to fill a small fraction of the hole in his chest that seemed irreparable since you left.

when you pulled away from the kiss, the both of you let out shaky breaths, and when you opened your eyes, you saw your smile mirrored on his face. "promise to me that you'll take care of yourself." you said softly, "because i can't take it if you wreck yourself. it hurts me more than anything in the world."

rafe took in a shaky breath, his nose pressed against you as he closed his eyes, leaning into the feeling of your warm hand on his cheek, "i promise." he mumbled, and even though he couldn't see it, he knew there was a smile on your face.

as rafe's eyes slowly fluttered open, the man felt as if he had gotten the best sleep in his entire life, but memories roamed back to him of last night, of you in his arms, and suddenly rafe started to feel enraged.

he clenched his jaw as he sat up in bed, throwing his pillow onto the floor; his brain had betrayed him, had made him think that he had you back, that you were right next-

rafe's brows furrowed as he looked to your side of the bed. on the pillow, there was an imprint of someone's head. and as he laid back down, smelling the sheets, he could make out the distinct scent of your signature perfume.

but the final nail of the coffin was when rafe lifted his head, looking out of the window.

first snow.

[vettelsvee]

Hear me out- (for the seb teacher fic you mentioned) student favorite science dork seb x student favorite fun history teacher reader. Their shared students ship the hell out of them and it's revealed that they've been together for like 2 years. 🩷🩷✨️✨️

THE SECRETS OF US | Sebastian Vettel

High School Science Teacher!Sebastian Vettel x High School History Teacher!Reader ↳ Teacher AU ⋆ Part of CLASSROOM GOSSIPS

SUMMARY: Seb, the dorky cool Science teacher and you, the also cool History teacher, are truly shipped by your shared students. You're way too obvious, but they can see all the signs to the point you end up having to tell them that you've been secretly dating each other for 5 years ↳ REQUESTED: Yes! Hope you like it anon! 💖

WORD COUNT: 2969

WARNING: Curse words, sexual intimate jokes between Seb and you (established relationship guys!), mentions of oral sex (female receiving) and pregnancy

TAGLIST: @koalapastries @blushmimi @herdetectivetheorist

VEE'S NOTES: Haven't written Teacher!Seb in a while and honestly, I missed it a lot! Writing Teacher!Seb fics has become my favourite thing in the world and I'm already planning a whole Teacher!Seb series. Also, I'm gonna start focusing on writing AUs since I absolutely love them, so feel free to give me your opinions in this! Hope you're doing great (or better than I am), and hope you like this one too! Remember that comments and reblogs are truly appreciated <3 ↳ TALK TO ME! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

While students at Berlin Brandenburg International School constantly worked to get the best grades possible and secure a bright future, there was something they dedicated even more time to: figuring out whether Mr. Vettel and Ms. Y/L/N were secretly dating.

The truth was that you and Seb being together was an open secret. Though it hadn’t been confirmed, conspiracy theories spread from class to class, reaching everyone from the youngest students to those just months away from graduating. Saying that everyone shipped you two was an understatement, especially when there was plenty of evidence suggesting that maybe, just maybe, you were more than just coworkers or even friends.

Seb was the Physics and Chemistry teacher every student wished they had, even those who hated science. While Seb thrived on calculations and a logical mindset, you were the complete opposite, you lived to tell stories from the past and sometimes even the future. Like Seb, your goal was to make your students interested in your subject, even if it was considered… well, quite boring.

The truth was that you were quite different, yet you were always together, finding any moment, any excuse, to exchange even a simple “hello." Even your classrooms were next to each other, despite belonging to entirely different departments.

And that closeness, that understanding between you two, was because you had been dating for nearly three years… and you were even engaged.

The problem? No one, not even the other faculty members, knew… or at least, they didn’t until you started being less careful with your secret, thinking that no one suspected anything, only for the exact opposite to happen.

The first problem? The sweater incident.

It was a day like any other. You and Seb arrived at school together and, as always, went to your respective classes not before sneaking a quick kiss in the teachers' lounge, making sure no one was around.

Your first class of the day was with your senior students, and you knew it would be a tough lesson because you had to teach them about World War II, a topic they often struggled to grasp. You began writing outlines on the board as your students trickled in. You greeted them and continued with your task, trying to ignore their murmurs until their whispers grew loud enough that you had no choice but to turn around.

When you did, they were all staring at you, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, as if they had seen a ghost.

"Is something wrong, guys?" you asked curiously.

No one answered.

Emma, one of the most outspoken students in your class, was the one who finally broke the silence. She raised her hand hesitantly, and when you nodded at her to speak, she did:

"Ms. Y/L/N…" she began, uncertain. "It’s just that… your sweater…"

You frowned and glanced down at your clothing. Yes, it was a navy-blue sweater, one you had worn quite often over the Christmas holidays, and one that had quickly become your favorite ever since…

As soon as it hit you, your eyes darted to the sleeves. The initials “SV” were perfectly embroidered in red.

Panic set in immediately when you realized you were wearing the exact same sweater you had embroidered and gifted Seb for Christmas—the one he had lent you a few days later when you went for a walk together, and that you had since claimed as your own.

“Oh, well…” You let out a nervous laugh. Crossing your arms, you began pacing around the classroom, pretending to check your notes to start the lesson. “It must have been a mistake. It’s probably my dad’s, or my—”

“But Ms. Y/L/N,” another student, Oliver—much more mischievous than Emma and well-versed in getting information out of people—interrupted with a sly grin. “SV just so happens to be Mr. Vettel’s initials, right? You know… Sebastian… Vettel…”

"What?" You let out a sharp but brief squeal, loud enough to make even the distracted students pay attention. "No way, no, no… That’s not what it means."

"Then why was Mr. Vettel wearing it yesterday?" Sophie, another student, added with a teasing smile and an amused glint in her eyes. "Do you two go shopping for clothes together now, or do you just share them?"

“Are you wearing his sweatshirt because you live together?!”

“Are you wearing it because you're pregnant?! Are you pregnant with Mr. Vettel’s baby?!”

The murmurs in the class grew louder. You tried to speak, but couldn't; you made noise with the chalkboard erasers, the markers, the class bell, and even shouted, but nothing could make your students quiet down once and for all.

Finally, you walked up to the still-open classroom door and slammed it shut, startling all the teenagers who would spend the next hour with you, making them go silent immediately.

Even Seb, who was in the classroom across from yours, peeked out to see what was going on. You simply leaned your face against the small glass window in the door and murmured a "Nothing, I’ll tell you later," which he didn’t understand, but responded by blowing you a kiss and winking, making you blush more than you probably already were.

“None of that, guys!” you said once you managed, or at least tried, to regain your composure. “Now, get your stuff out. Let's start the class, we've wasted enough time…”

You turned around and continued writing the outline on the board, but you knew that the small chatter still going on in the class was just the beginning of not only a day but a very hectic week until your students figured out what was really going on between their two favorite teachers.

You sighed, tried to stay calm, and prayed that things wouldn’t escalate.

However, you didn’t realize that this was just the beginning.

A few weeks later, when you had already told Seb about the incident you had in class with his sweatshirt, and he told you that you were forgetful and absent-minded (which was true), he started being even more careful. The kisses you once shared in the teachers’ lounge were now exchanged in the car, well before entering the school, making sure a thousand times that no one was around to see you.

Seb and you, but mostly him, denied any kind of gossip that not only your "adoptive children," as your students referred to you both, were spreading, but you also had to do it with your colleagues until, well… they told you to stop hiding that you were together because it was obvious, but they’d help you keep the secret with the rest of the students.

Although, well, the main problem in keeping it a secret was you and your slip-ups.

The next problem happened during a break.

Normally, each teacher had a routine depending on whether they had to supervise the break or not. That day, it was your turn to be in the staff room, and Seb was on duty, so when you walked in and saw his coffee cup, you didn’t hesitate to take it and take a sip, leaving a small kiss mark on it, making your lipstick perfectly visible.

What surprised you was that, when you looked in one corner of the room, two of the best final-year students in Sebastian’s Chemistry class were there, with their notebooks open, filled with exercises… and with Seb himself.

“Hey, guys…” you said shyly, playing with your hair.

The students said nothing, and neither did Seb.

Instead, your fiancé simply looked at you, gave you a small smile, and made his students focus back on the exercises they were working on, while he couldn’t stop shaking his head and quietly laughing.

“Did you see that, Jason?” you heard Seb's student ask his classmate while you were preparing photocopies and Seb had gone to the bathroom.

“She didn’t even flinch!” said the boy. “And Mr. Vettel... Oh my God, Anna, he just looked at her and smiled like an idiot.”

“And she blushed like crazy! And let me tell you, it’s pretty strange for someone to drink from your coffee, especially when you’re just coworkers. And on top of that, Ms. Y/L/N left a kiss on his coffee cup, the same one he always uses and loves! She probably gave it to him and…”

“Wait, wait…” Anna interrupted. “What are you saying? Are you implying that they’re…”

“At least they live together. I’m convinced, Anna.”

You decided to stop listening and almost ran out of the staff room, heading toward your class, when you bumped into Seb.

You tried to ignore him, but much to your dismay, he gently grabbed your arm and forced you to stop.

“Y/N…”

His blue eyes were fixed on you. He hadn’t said anything more than your name, but you knew exactly what he was referring to.

“Yeah, okay, got it…” you replied, succumbing to the look he was giving you, which was far from friendly. “We’re just coworkers, Mr. Vettel,” you emphasized the last part.

“You know you don’t need to say that here, Y/N. For you I’m Sebastian, your coworker,” he replied with a playful tone. Then, he leaned close to your ear, making sure once again that no one was watching, and spoke. “Although I wouldn’t mind if you called me Mr. Vettel in bed while I’m eating you out…”

“Okay, okay, enough, stoooooop it!” you yelled, flustered, as you pulled away from him and continued on your way. Seb, however, couldn’t stop watching you move from side to side, with an angry stride, holding onto the folder where you always carried a million different photocopies that made it impossible for you to find the one you wanted.

Weeks passed, and so did the rumors. Now that the other teachers at the school knew not only that you were a couple, but also engaged, they helped you quite a bit to silence the gossip surrounding you both.

The only thing you could hear in the hallways, classrooms, and even at parent meetings was how much your students shipped you two (with ship names included). Months had passed since they caught you wearing Seb’s sweatshirt in class, and although you’d had a few more slip-ups (like calling Seb “Sebu” in the middle of class, something he hated but loved hearing from you, or talking about your weekend plans when you thought your students weren’t listening), the talk about you two and the secret you seemed to share never stopped.

The climax of it all, much to your dismay, happened during one of the end-of-year field trips.

It happened at a museum in Berlin, specifically in the Medieval section. You were so focused on explaining the pieces your students were looking at, and relating them to the material you had covered in class, that you moved around so much, glancing at Seb every now and then, who had decided to accompany you “so you wouldn’t be alone,” that you didn’t notice the irregular shape of the floor right behind you.

It was then that you took a step back and twisted your ankle, falling to the ground suddenly while your explanation was interrupted by a scream that alarmed both your students and your fiancé.

“Y/N!” Seb shouted as soon as he saw you, running toward where you were.

Your students held their breath, not so much because of the accident, but because of the scene they were witnessing right in front of them.

Seb knelt down in front of you, going straight for your right ankle, which was clearly more swollen than normal.

“Are you okay, love?”

The word love was a whisper, but not soft enough one for your students not to hear.

Obviously, they began to make small, muffled exclamations, jump up, and tell each other they knew it, that it was obvious there was something more between you than just professionalism and maybe a friendship.

“I think I just twisted it,” you responded to Seb, grimacing in pain while trying to get up. “It’s… fine, I guess.”

“Y/N, you really need to start being more careful, this happens to you all the time…” Seb replied, sighing, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

“You say that as if I trip every day.”

“You do, babe,” he replied, shooting you a playful but stern look, signaling for the kids to guide you. They didn’t say anything. Instead, they just stood there, stunned. “Last month, you fell in class while trying to erase the board. Last week, at home, you almost broke your wrist picking up a book I had hidden to gift you. And now, look, a little more and—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you replied, giving up. “I’m clumsy, but you still love me, I guess.”

“Stop talking nonsense, Y/N. You know I love you more than you can imagine, no matter what you’re like.”

Seb shook his head at what you just said and did something that sent your students into an internal meltdown.

He took your hand, and you didn’t hesitate for a second to intertwine your fingers with his, just as your fiancé had no problem giving your hand a warm kiss.

Not to mention that when you almost fell again, Seb didn’t hesitate to hold you by the waist, and he had no qualms about picking you up in his arms to take you to the small emergency room in the museum while telling those chaotic teenagers, fangirling over you both, to wait outside to see what happened to you.

By the time you both returned to the school, the rumors had reached their peak, and there was nothing you could do to avoid your students confronting you, especially when Anna, Jason, and a few others who were closer to you both cornered you after class when you were heading to the parking lot to grab your car and go home, hand in hand.

You barely had time to react when they stood in front of you, their faces revealing shy smiles while they fiddled with the straps of their backpacks and kept looking at you both.

Seb and you exchanged a glance, and you both knew there was no turning back, no excuses left.

“Guys, whatever you want to ask us, go ahead,” you said calmly, crossing your arms and leaning against your fiancé.

“Mr. Vettel, Ms. Y/L/N, we have something to ask you,” Jason began.

Seb sighed and looked at you. This was exactly what you both had thought.

“Let me guess, now we’re like your… best friends, and you’ve decided to play truth or dare with us or something like that?” your fiancé said in a teasing tone.

“Exactly, Mr. Vettel!” answered Camila, one of the girls.

“The thing is… are you two dating?”

“Excuse me, what did you just say, Jenson?” you asked, trying not to give anything away, just wanting to see where this conversation was going.

“Oh my God, Ms. Y/L/N, don’t ignore us!” Anna replied. “It’s so obvious you’re wearing Mr. Vettel’s oversized sweatshirt…”

“And you drink from his coffee mug and leave him really cute kisses,” Jason continued. “Oh, and you also call Mr. Vettel Sebu. Who calls their coworker Sebu? What the fuck is even a Sebu?”

“And you also flirt in the hallways! Mr. Vettel always leans in to whisper in Ms. Y/L/N’s ear, and she turns super red!” intervened one of the guys.

“Not to mention that at the visit to the museum you held hands and called each other love and all those sweet things parents say to each other!”

You and Seb kept looking from one student to the next, the difficulty in holding back your laughter growing with each passing second.

“With everything they’re saying, it seems like we’re already married,” Seb commented, turning to you with a wide grin.

“Well, we do live together and we’re three months away from getting married, so they’re not far off,” you replied, bursting out laughing.

And that’s when the silence fell.

The students exchanged looks, glancing at each other for a moment before they started shaking each other, shouting "I told you!" while continuing to bombard you with even more intimate questions about your relationship.

“So, is it true?! Are you two really dating?!”

“Actually, we’ve been together for 5 years,” Seb replied proudly.

“And, as you’ve probably heard, we’re getting married in three months,” you intervened. “We’ve been planning the wedding ever since Seb proposed to me almost a year and a half ago…”

“Do you know how long we’ve been shipping you two since you were already canon? And secretly!”

Jason shouted, looking the most shocked by the revelation.

“We demand some sort of compensation after all the lies you’ve told us this whole time,” Anna replied, crossing her arms and making her friends agree with her.

You looked at Seb, and he looked back at you.

He knew exactly what you meant with that look.

“Should we tell them, love?” you asked quietly.

Seb didn’t answer, but a wide smile, even bigger than usual, and a sparkle in his eyes lit up his face.

“Of course. After all, it’s just a matter of time before they find out.”

“What will we find out?!” they all screamed in unison.

Instinctively, you placed your hands on your stomach while Seb wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“That soon, you’re going to have, as you would say, a little adopted sibling,” Seb replied, squeezing you against him, feeling like the happiest man in the world.

“I’m pregnant, guys, so you better not say any swear words in class because the baby can hear you, okay?”

If you like my content, and would like to support me, you can do it here <3 Thank you so much for reading until the very end! <3

[changbunnies]

Connected (18+)

♡ Pairing: Royal Knight!Bang Chan x Princess!Reader

♡ Genre: angst, fluff, royal au, historical au, knight x princess au, arranged marriage (for reader), forbidden love, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining (they are so oblivious)

♡ Word Count: 15.9k (oops lmao)

♡ Summary: Y/N, as princess of the kingdom, is destined to marry for politics and financial gain, but all she wants is to marry for love. Chan, her childhood friend turned royal knight, has to either come to terms with her inevitable marriage, or finally confess the feelings he's been harboring for years.

♡ Warnings: very brief minho x reader, extremely jealous chan, also lowkey possessive chan, (he's not in any toxic way at all but still), reader is implied to be plus size, old timey traditions and expectations of women to suit the setting, i think thats about it ??

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): petnames (princess (mostly as a title), darling, my love) loss of virginity (both reader and chan are virgins), nipple play, fingering (f rec), unprotected piv, creampie, overall very soft sex with some shyness and teasing sprinkled in, breeding kink if you squint

♡ Notes: you can also read the story on my a03 here and if you're interested, you can also check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams ! and thank you so much for all the love my works have gotten so far, i appreciate it sm !!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

A sigh passes your lips as you stare out at the sprawling nature before you from up on your balcony. The sight of trees swaying in the wind, flowers blooming towards the sun, and animals skittering about on the earth below always helped to ease your troubled mind.

You always found yourself here when the worries of life and your duty proved too much for you. As the kingdom’s heir to the throne, you weren't often afforded the luxury of leaving your castle, or dirtying your soles by prancing in the nearby forest. 

Instead, you often had to settle for the next best thing– simply observing it. Normally that was enough for you, but on days like today, where you were constantly bombarded with responsibility and expectations, you wished you could flee into the forest and never look back. It would be difficult to flee your life, but surely it would be better than this. You were tired of feeling so stifled all the time. 

"All that sighing isn't going to help, Princess," a familiar voice speaks from the doorway of your bedroom. "I know that," you frown, turning to look at your childhood friend turned royal knight with crossed arms and a glare on your face.

You know Chan doesn’t mean to add to your frustration, and normally you wouldn’t snap at him over a comment made in jest, but you're really in no mood for it right now. You’ll apologize later when you’re less quick to anger; right now, you are currently too stuck in your feelings to respond kindly. 

It'd been a week since you were informed of your inevitable marriage, and you still hadn’t come to terms with it to any degree. Your father, the current King, informed you that the eligible men who desired your hand would be arriving later in the month, and how you were expected to be on your best "womanly" behavior when meeting your suitors for the first time. You knew it would happen someday but you still loathed the idea of it.. It made you feel like an object, like a pawn to be used rather than a person with her own thoughts and feelings. 

"My apologies Princess, but you've been really down these past few days. I thought you might enjoy some company," Chan explains with his perfectly rehearsed politeness that you haven't quite gotten used to hearing yet. "Stop calling me Princess when it's just the two of us, it's unnecessary," you complain while Chan looks at you with a playful smile. 

"Very well, Princess," he teases in response, laughing when you scowl at him for it. Chan has been your knight for a little over a year now, and while you did enjoy having him around more often, the tone shift from friend to knight was jarring. There were times where you missed your old dynamic, when he'd speak to you with no pleasantries or titles (though it did often incur the wrath of your attendants for being 'disrespectful' to the princess.)

You never found him disrespectful however; you actually quite liked that he always spoke to you candidly and without pretenses. Even as a kid you'd noticed the way commoners treated you differently from everyone else, and you liked that Chan didn't. Though he was just a child like yourself at the time, and most likely did not realize the impact it had on you, you enjoyed being able to feel like a normal person. 

He was often on the castle grounds due to his parents, his mother a maidservant and his father a horseman. And while he was never supposed to have met you due to the difference in station, you two often found yourselves in each other's path.

You learned to ride horses together under his father's tutelage, he would accompany his mother around the castle as she cleaned various rooms, and he’d always wave to you with a goofy smile while you were studying (even if it ended in a scolding from the adults around him.)

You had quickly become fond of him, your only friend in an otherwise lonely world. You can remember fondly the days where he would distract you from your lessons by making silly gestures behind your tutors' backs, and how he’d gift you trinkets from outside the castle’s walls, such as cheap dolls and freshly picked flowers. 

They were “plain” by royal standards, but you still loved them dearly, as they were things you had never had in your life until he brought them to you. He would even bring delicious pastries and fresh bread made by his mother, which had become your favorite things to eat simply because it was so different from everything else you were allowed to have. 

Chan steps onto the balcony, taking his place next to you. He leans against the banister, staring out at the scenery that held your attention moments ago. "I don't want you to get married yet either," he admits after a brief moment of silence. You look at him, taking in the sullen expression on his face. You are initially surprised he looks so sad, allowing you to catch a glimpse at his usually hidden vulnerability.

You know very well that he, like anyone, is capable of feeling a depth of complex emotions, but he rarely shows you that side of himself. You spend so much of your days stressed or tired or daydreaming about being anything other than what you are, so he chooses not to burden you with any feelings he has. You've told him many times that he could, even encouraged him to share with you, but he always said he'd rather focus on making you feel better because that would make him feel better too. 

“You don’t..?” you ask, though you wonder what you are even expecting to hear in response. He’s your best friend and he cares about your feelings, so obviously he doesn’t want to see you go through something you hate. It obviously it saddens him to see a friend hurting– but despite yourself, you still hope for his feelings to go beyond that. 

You want to hear him say he cares about your inevitable marriage not as a concerned best friend, but as a man. A man who loves you, a man who wants you, a man who would fight for your hand in marriage against all odds. It's foolish, you know this, but you can’t stop yourself but hoping for it. 

Your heart ignores the logic your brain provides, disregarding that he'll never be allowed to marry you even if he did have romantic feelings for you and was willing to fight against tradition for you. It doesn't matter that he has devoted his life to protecting you, that he's extremely well read or gifted in combat, or that he grew up within the same castle walls that you have. He will always be "beneath you", his merits never good enough, all because he was born to commoners. 

You always hated that. Why do the circumstances of someone's birth have to matter so much? Why does fate have to be decided based on what family you are born into?

And you can still remember vividly the day you realized you cared for him as more than just the best friend you grew up with. When he stood before you, handsome in his weathered training armor and practice sword in hand, smiling proudly as he devoted his life to your care, your heart fluttered.

Chan worked hard to be your knight, practiced with his sword to the point of exhaustion, spent countless hours reading about affairs between nations and studying combat techniques, all to be the one who protects you. He dedicated his life to you, to being by your side through everything, even if it meant putting his personal affairs on hold. 

There were times where you still didn’t understand why he sacrificed so much of his freedom for you. The life you lived was so stuffy and restricting, and he could do anything. He could do whatever he wanted with life, live anywhere in the world, choose from a myriad of careers, yet he chose to be stuck in the castle with you for the rest of his youth. 

The day you turned 14, you confessed to him that you were dreading the day you both became adults because you knew your lives would take you different places. Even if he followed in his father’s footsteps and became the castle's horseman, you'd likely rarely, if ever, see him. It was something you thought about a lot, as you were often reminded by your elders of your responsibilities to the kingdom, but that day it was hitting you particularly hard. 

That day sticks firmly in Chan's head as well; he can still remember the way tears pricked the corners of your eyes, the reality of getting older and the responsibilities that were soon to follow already bearing heavily on you.

That was the day he decided he’d work hard to always be near you, as he never wanted to see you cry over his separation from you. If there was no reason for him to stay, he would make one. If it meant freedom and choice was taken from him, he was willing to let those things go. If it was for you, it would be worth it.

When you asked him why he decided to become a knight despite the sacrifice and responsibility it entailed, why he was willing to give up so much to stay in the castle with you, he simply smiled at you. “It’s where I am meant to be,” he replied, dimples lighting up his face in an expression so sweet it made your stomach flip. 

You fell in love with him that day. Or maybe you always loved him, and that was the day you fully realized it. That intangible feeling that always lingered whenever you looked at him, that you couldn’t hold and understand but knew was there. It was love, all that time. You knew it then, and you still know it now. Chan is the only person you will ever love. 

He spends the rest of the afternoon comforting you, as he always does when you are feeling unhappy and indignant. Giving you kind words or gentle, comforting silence when you need it, transitioning into his goofy side who makes jokes and does his best to make you laugh as soon as you show that you are feeling better. 

And it does help, but in a way it also makes it worse. Because unbeknownst to him, he’s just reaffirming your love for him. For every gesture that endears you to him, it also makes your heart sink even further. And worse of all, you can’t even be upset about it– because he doesn’t know your feelings, he doesn’t know how his kindness feels akin to a knife in your gut. 

And it’s likely he’ll never know. Because when can you tell him? How can you tell him? It’s not meant to be, and it never will be. For as long as you are royalty, he’ll never be allowed to love you, and you’ll never be allowed to love him. The sooner you accept it the better off you’ll be, but you don’t know if you ever can. 

How do you make yourself stop loving someone so perfect? How do you put aside your feelings, how do you pretend that they never existed in the first place? You’re lost, you’re stuck, and you know nothing will change it.

You suppose the best you can do is enjoy the little time you have remaining. Live in the moment with him instead of worrying so much about the future, because once it’s here you won’t be able to get this time back. 

That’s why you smile for him, earnestly. You laugh with him the way you always do, you reminisce about your childhoods, you talk about all your favorite things instead of wallowing in what you hate. You don’t allow yourself to frown or cry until he’s gone for the night, the setting of the sun beckoning him out of your room and to his own. 

You cry as you wash off the day's grime in the bath, you cry as you towel off in front of the mirror, and you cry as you lie in your bed, staring up at the ceiling as you think about all the joy you will never have.

Because you will lose Chan before you ever even had him. Never being allowed to hold his hand, to kiss him, to lie with him.. Because he is your knight, and a princess isn’t supposed to fall in love with one. 

It’d been over a month since your suitors first started arriving at the castle to meet you, settling into their guest rooms and (frustratingly) occupying your days. You were as respectful as you were expected to be, but you really didn’t put in any effort to get to know them more deeply. You just weren’t interested in any romantics with them. 

If the situation were different, and these were men you were meeting with the prospect of friendship or strengthening ties between allied kingdoms platonically, you would be much more susceptible to the pleasantries. As it stands now, you can’t put yourself out there for them the way you are expected to. 

Most of them seem nice enough, and for the ones with gentler personalities you do feel bad for your standoff-ish attitude, but showing your disinterest firmly is the best way to not give anyone false hopes. You know you won’t fall in love with any of them, and wouldn’t it be worse to lead them on by having no backbone? 

Sure, you could be a bit nicer, but why would you be? They are all here with the intention to marry you, they all have a goal in mind– to win you over by any means necessary. Even if they had the purest of intentions, it wouldn’t sway you to change your mind so easily.

At the end of the day, no matter who is here for a chance at genuine love and who is here for political gain, you are being treated like an object, and it’s something you detest with your entire being. And even leaving aside your feelings for Chan (which undeniably also plays a part in your disdain for your situation), you still wouldn’t enjoy this process.

Maybe it was your own fault for idolizing fairytales and spending your free time daydreaming about what your perfect life would look like, but what can you say? You’re a hopeless romantic, even to a fault, it seems. Is it truly so bad for you to want genuine love with someone? A love that happens organically, unforced by any outside factors pushing for it? 

And now here you are, letting your maids prepare your attire and dress for tonight’s ball, where you will be expected to mingle with and accept the advances of your suitors, even if it is performative in nature. You try your best not to scowl in disapproval when your maids talk excitedly about your “romances”, who they think is most handsome out of your suitors, and who they hope you will choose. 

You wish you could scream out, “I choose none! I don’t want to marry any of them!” You’d gladly let these girls take their pick of the men who came for you. It seems that the fan favorite, as it were, is Sir Minho, the handsome son to Duke Lee in the western lands. Apart from being attractive, he’s well-mannered, compassionate with animals, and skilled in battles of wit. 

If you were being truthful, he was an easy pick. He was easily the most desirable of every suitor, not just from a personal standpoint, but also from a political standpoint. Keeping relations with the west positive would lower chances of revolt or separation into their own independent nation.

Yes, if you were smart and not at all stubborn, you would most certainly pick Minho. But stubborn you undeniably were; opinions firm and unbending, resistant to compromise or sacrifice.

And honestly, shouldn’t that be expected? Why wouldn’t the princess, who is capable of having everything material she ever wanted, not be selfish when it comes to love? You like to think yourself a reasonable person, one who makes sound decisions and goes through life with a firm sense of rationality. However, when it comes to Chan, all rational thought and decision making seems to leave you, replaced solely by emotion. 

Your heart overtakes you, arguing fiercely with your rational and intelligent brain, as if making the logical, sensible choice would be foolish despite the reality being the opposite. You let out a sigh, that your maids thankfully mistake as one of exhaustion. While you arguably had the easiest job in the room, just sitting around and letting others doll you up, it was still tiring in its own right. 

Layers upon layers of petticoats, chemises, and skirts, tight garters to hold up your stockings, squeezing into a corset and then adding even more layers on top of that.. If the end result wasn’t so gorgeous, you’d absolutely hate this process. And god forbid you needed to use the bathroom at any point– that endeavor in itself was hellish. 

After the grueling task of fitting you into your finest royal blue ensemble, your hair and makeup came next. You begged for it to be on the simpler side, as you would be occupied for hours tonight and really didn't want to worry about keeping it pristine the entire time, and they thankfully obliged the request. There’s a few moments of downtime when they are finished, which gives you time to breathe and prepare yourself mentally for the night’s festivities. 

There is a knock on the door, which the maids closest to the door don’t hesitate to open. It’s Chan, of course, as it’s his job to come collect you whenever it’s necessary for you to leave your room. That’s another reason this night you’re upset about tonight– you wish you could walk together to the ballroom as a couple, instead of as a knight and princess.

“It is time to go, Princess. The guests have begun arriving in the ballroom,” he says, keeping his gaze professional under the watchful eyes of the maids in the room. 

But God, is that hard for him. You're so unbelievably beautiful it makes his heart feel like it's twisting in his chest. He’s lucky that no one in the room seemed to notice the way it stole his breath away, or the way his eyes lingered on you for far longer than they should have before he directed you to follow him out of the door. 

You thank your maids for their help before you depart, and they all say some variation of “have fun!” as you leave the room. “Fun” is doubtful in this scenario, but you’ll certainly try to not be miserable. Try being the keyword– you make no such promises of how things will actually play out. 

You put on the best smile you can manage when you enter the room, letting various guests greet you, briefly indulging them in small talk before Chan helps you move your way past them. You take a seat next to your parents, with Chan standing just a few feet away– a respectable distance as to not intrude on the royal family, but close enough to reach you quickly if something went wrong.  

As is to be expected, sticking close to your parents and away from the dancing doesn’t spare you from any attention. Those who are permitted to speak with the royal family appear to you in a near constant stream, with monotonous questions about how you’ve been and how you feel about your inevitable marriage in tow.

God, the night has just begun and you’re already tired. Is it too early to retreat back to the safety of your room? You take a quick glance around the ballroom, taking note of all the guests you have an obligation to talk to and who you could feasibly get away with staying away from.

Unfortunately, it seems like your evening will be full of talking to people you don't want to deal with. You said you'd try to have a good time, but that didn't mean you had to right this second, did it? You're definitely staying at the table for as long as possible, even if it causes your guests to think of you disfavorably (and if you're lucky, it will.) 

It's probably about two hours into the gathering when your parents seem to grow tired of you doing nothing but sitting with them at the head table. You can tell even before it happens that your mother and father have something to say about your silent protest.

"Why aren't you out there, dear?" your mother asks, taking a gentler approach despite the obvious frown of displeasure on her face. Truthfully, she understands your sadness and feels for your plight, but she can’t allow you to wallow in it.

You are very clearly sulking, proper manners ignored as you sit with crossed arms and a pout. “Don’t like to dance,” you lie, but everyone near you knows that isn’t true. 

You normally loved dancing. You would attend your dance lessons enthusiastically, and later you would sneak Chan into the ballroom to teach him everything you learned. Although he loved music and followed rhythms easily on his own, his initial steps with you were always awkward. His excuse was that he was nervous to be dancing with the princess, but you would remind him that since being the princess never made him hesitate with you before, it shouldn’t matter now.

In all honesty, a majority of his nerves came from being afraid of making a mistake in front of you. Chan could normally dance very well, often being complimented and told he was a natural at it, but doing it with you made him especially nervous. What if you felt how sweaty his palms were becoming just from having you closer than usual? What if you could hear how loudly his heart was pounding? What if the nerves made him do the steps wrong? 

He really liked you, and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself in your presence. Chan is often goofy, yes, but it was always willfully. He liked making you laugh and smile, but he didn’t want that side of him to be out in that moment. He found himself wanting you to see a different side of him, he wanted to impress you with how easily he picked up what you taught him, he wanted you to compliment him with your sweet voice.

To his own relief, Chan eventually managed to conquer his nerves, and he was able to pick up the steps and lead the dance without making an embarrassment of himself. Soon enough, the two of you would regularly spend hours in the ballroom together, dancing until late into the evening. With no band to play music for you, the both of you would take turns humming melodies, though you always preferred when Chan was the one doing it as his voice was so melodic and beautiful to you. 

With your memories of each shared, secret dance so clear in your mind, how can you dance with any of these men and not think of Chan? How do you look at any of them and not compare their differences? How can you be with them without thinking about how you’d rather be with Chan instead? Even if they were lovely, even if they were without flaw, they weren’t who you wanted to be with. 

You glance at Chan, who has to remain stone faced in these moments. Your parents are aware that you became friends with him well before he was inaugurated into knighthood, but they don’t realize to what extent.

They don’t know about the countless hours spent together, how you’d disregard rules to be near him, or how you’d sneak him into spaces he normally wouldn’t be allowed in. He can’t make them aware of how close the two of you truly are by reacting, and you know this well, but you still can't help but seek him out in every moment. 

Noticing you looking at him, Chan shoots you a small look of sympathy before your parents can notice, doing his best to ease you despite the restrictions. He knows you don’t want to do this, and that you hate being scolded and reminded of how “important” it is to have a “good” husband.

“Good” meaning having power, or wealth, or a prestigious lineage in this case. You don’t want to care about formalities, traditions, or responsibilities. You don’t want to prioritize superficial qualities or be in a loveless marriage purely for alliance. 

Is it really so terrible for you to just be in love with someone for who they are instead of what they have? You don’t care about what they have to offer or what legacies their families hold. You want to be with the person whose smile lights up your world. You want to be with the person who sacrificed so much just to stay within your realm. You want Chan. 

“Your suitors would love to dance with you,” your father says, “You should at least try to get along with them, don’t be stubborn. You won’t grow to love any of them if you don’t try.” Chan watches your expression change, the mix of anger and sadness bubbling within you becoming increasingly more apparent. He wishes he could rush to your side and help, but he can't. So instead he stands in place, fists clenched in a vain effort to ground himself as he remains frozen to his spot. 

“Of course father,” you say as you stand, biting your tongue so as to not make a scene in the middle of an extravagant ball. Despite your tumultuous feelings, you're not foolish enough to disrespect the king with an audience. “I need a moment, if you’ll allow it,” you say and your father nods, finding it a reasonable enough compromise. 

You bow politely before you go despite how badly you wish you could storm out and give a bitter display of resentment. Chan moves to follow you, (which he would do even if it wasn't his job,) but your mother calls for him to wait a moment. “I’m aware my daughter is unhappy about this, but try to talk some sense into her for me, will you? I doubt she’ll listen to us, upset as she is. She may find it easier to listen to someone unattached to the situation.” 

‘Unattached.’ If only she knew Chan was terribly, terribly attached to the situation– attached to you. “Of course, Your Majesty,” he answers politely, bowing before he steps away to follow your path out of the ballroom. It doesn’t take him long to find you despite his delay leaving; he knows you well enough to know where you prefer to be when upset.

You are outside, sitting on the steps leading to the garden, arms hugging your legs with your head against your knees. You feel trapped, and looking out at nature always helps (even if in this case said nature was still confined within the castle’s walls.) You lift your head when you hear Chan’s footsteps behind you, wiping stray tears from your eyes as he approaches. “Y/N..” he speaks softly, heart tugging at him painfully; he always hated seeing you cry. 

He sits next to you, deciding comforting you was more important than worrying about who would see the two of you being close. If he gets in trouble, so be it; you need your friend right now, not your knight. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you carefully to his side. “I hate this,” you mumble with a trembling voice, burying your face in his shoulder. 

Chan swallows, trying to find the words to say. He hates it too– unbearably so. Every time he pictures you being in love with someone else it makes him physically ill. He doesn’t want to think about how devastated he’ll be hearing you say ‘I love you’ to another man, how excruciating it will be for him to watch from the sidelines while you build a future with someone he can never be. 

He knows his heart will crumble when he sees you make your eternal vows to someone else, so beautiful and demure and forever out of his reach. He made his promise to be your knight for the remainder of his days knowing this is what it would entail, but fuck, it still hurts.

Chan has always considered himself a strong and resilient person, and he felt like he could handle this inevitability, but maybe he was naive to think so; nothing could have prepared him for how painful the reality actually was. His mistake wasn’t falling in love with someone unattainable– his mistake was thinking he could survive the heartbreak.

In all his life, he’ll never regret falling in love with you or becoming the knight you need, but he’s still human. A selfish human, who wants more than he can be granted, who wants to marry his beloved princess more than any treasure or title in the world. 

Chan does his best to keep his breathing steady, not wanting to alert you that he was affected by this way more than a friend or knight should be. He thinks about what your father said to you shortly before you left the ballroom. ‘You won’t grow to love any of them if you don’t try.’  

As much as he hated to admit it, your father had a point. And he could see why your mother wanted him to make you understand, but did he really have it in him to follow her request? Could he encourage you to try to fall in love with someone else knowing how it’d tear him apart?

It’s the last thing he ever wants to do, but devoting his life to you meant he had to put aside selfish desires. He couldn’t let his love for you cloud his judgment, he couldn’t sabotage your chance at happiness to make himself feel better. How can he be a proper knight if he puts his selfish hopes above what is best for you in the long run? 

“Listen.. I know you might not want to hear this but.. Your parents have a point. You should get to know them better,” Chan speaks cautiously, trying to prepare for whatever reaction you might have. It kills him to say it, not just because he doesn’t want to see you with someone else, but also because he knows you won’t want to hear this from him. He watches you freeze, staring at him in something akin to saddened disbelief.

You feel as if your cracked heart has now completely shattered. If there was any doubt before, now you know. Chan doesn’t love you the way you love him. He wouldn’t be okay with this if he loved you, he wouldn’t want to see you marry someone if he wanted you the way you want him. Your feelings have always been one sided. You swallow, trying not to cry any more than you already have or show how hurt that made you feel. 

“So you agree with them then..” your voice is quiet and defeated. What do you even say..? Should you admit that one of the reasons this is so hard for you is because you’re in love with him? Would that even change anything? You always knew being in love with him was a fool’s endeavor, and now that truth was solidified. 

“It’s not that. You know I don't want you to, it’s just– I know you’re miserable right now. And the reality is that you’ll have to marry one of them. If you get to know them and grow to love one of them, it’d be better for you. The way things are now, you’ll never be happy, and that's all I want for you.. Just to be happy,” he says, trying his best to show you how earnest he is.

He’s so fucking in love with you, of course he doesn’t want to see you marry someone else, it’s the last thing he ever wants. He doesn’t want to watch you fall in love with one of them, he doesn’t want to sit on the sidelines while you give your love to someone else, but he can’t keep denying the reality before him. Despite how selfish he is, he can’t put himself and what he wants above you.

And putting those selfish desires aside, he just wants you to have a good, happy life, even if that happiness comes from someone else. No matter how badly he wishes he could be the one you spend your forever with, it’s not the life that is meant for him. He has to come to terms with that, now more than ever. He has to, because it'll break him apart if he doesn't. 

You look at him now, and as much as it hurts, you can see the sincerity. Even though it’s not what you wanted to hear, you know how much he cares about you. Even now, he’s looking out for you and trying his best.

Maybe he doesn't love you the way you love him, but it is a form of love nonetheless. His actions have never shown you anything different, and even if it’s not the sort of romantic love you want it to be, you should be happy with what you already have with him.

You separate yourself from his gentle hold, standing quickly as you do your best to wipe your tears without ruining your makeup any further. “You’re right. I’ll try,” you say, forcing yourself to find the resolve you desperately need to get this night over with. He smiles at you, albeit strained as he suffers with his own tumultuous emotions, and rises to his feet as well. 

Chan gives you one last gesture of comfort, a gentle squeeze to your hand, before he leads you back to the ballroom where everyone waits for you to return. “Are you ready?” He asks when you are both stopped in front of the doors.

You sigh, taking just a small moment before you nod and allow yourself to enter the bustling room. You’re not ready, but it will never get any easier, so you suppose you’ll just have to accept that and get on with it regardless.

You leave Chan standing with your parents, where he can still have you in his line of sight while not intruding upon anything you need to do. You suppose if you’re really going to commit to this, you should go with the obvious choice– Lee Minho. It doesn’t take you long to spot him either; all you had to do was follow the gaze of infatuated maids to see him standing in a bubble with other high society guests your father invited to the event. 

“Sir Minho, are you occupied?” you ask as you step forward to him, the crowd that had gathered around him easily dissipating to allow the princess closer to her suitor. “Of course not, Princess. Would you like to dance?” he smiles politely as he holds out his arm for you, and you accept it, letting him lead you toward the center of the ballroom. 

Another thing you suppose you should do if you’re really going to commit to this is apologize. You doubt anything will genuinely come of it on your part, but it’d be best to not have a marriage start off with bitterness in your heart if it does miraculously develop into something more.

Honestly you’d rather scream and kick than offer an apology you don’t entirely mean but.. What other option is there at this point? "Listen, I'm sorry for how cold I've been towards you. It's not due to any fault of your own, it's just.."You pause briefly, trying to think of how best to continue that line of dialogue, but Minho speaks up before you can.

“It’s just that you are being forced into a marriage you don’t want?" Your eyes widen, mouth opening and closing as you desperately try to find a way to dismiss his accurate assessment. Were you that transparent? 'Of course you were, idiot,' you curse yourself. Maybe you should've practiced subtlety.

"I get it. You aren’t the only one unhappy about this,” he continues, further surprising you. He chuckles at your shocked expression, amusement in his voice. “What, is that hard to believe?”

"I.. I guess I just assumed everyone is here because they want to be. It didn’t occur to me that you would be in a similar situation to myself,” you answer truthfully. Maybe you would have realized sooner if you hadn't been so stuck in your ways, so quick to ignore and dismiss every suitor that came close to you. 

“I don’t blame you for thinking that. I’m sure most of the men are here because they want to be. I consider myself an outlier,” Minho speaks nonchalantly, but now that you are really looking at him, you can tell he is just as unhappy to be forced into this as you are. You also get the impression that he’s good at keeping a cool exterior, likely due to years of experience at suppressing his actual desires, the same as you.

“Is there someone else? Someone you love, back at home?” you ask, and Minho smiles sadly as he nods. “There is. They mean the world to me. I asked them to wait for me, I told them I wouldn’t leave them but.. I don’t know what will happen, if I'm being honest.” He tries to mask how upset he is to admit that, but you can see it.

Maybe you’d be as oblivious to it as everyone else seemed to be if you weren’t dealing with similar emotions. You feel a strange sort of kinship with him now, realizing how parallel your situations seem to be. “I’ll make sure you can be reunited. I may not have much power as it stands now, but I can do that at least.”

Minho smiles at your reply, but shakes his head, as if your act of kindness would be futile. “I appreciate the sentiment, but it would only be temporary. I’m sure even if I don’t marry you, my father will just send me off to another castle to find a spouse. It’s all he cares about.”

You frown, about to speak reassurances or some other comforting statement, but he stops you before you can. “What about you, Princess? Is there someone you love?” Minho asks, easily shifting the focus off of himself. 

You hesitate a moment, debating on whether it would be wise for you to talk about. But, Minho already shared with you even if it could be a risk for him to admit, so.. You decide to be honest. “There is. He.. is the best person I've ever known.” 

“I thought so. Not to sound overconfident, but most women fall at their feet for a chance to speak with me,” Minho smirks and you laugh, the first genuine laugh you’ve had all evening. “Well, you are handsome. I may love someone else, but I’m not blind.” Your reply makes Minho laugh as well, the conversation turning into something you can actually enjoy.

“It’s good to know the Princess isn’t rejecting me for my looks. I can sleep assured about my handsome features tonight,” he jokes, and if you weren’t in public you’d most certainly slap him on the arm. You didn't expect his personality to be what it is, but you suppose that's one of the charms that draws people to him.

“The person you love– do they know how you feel?” He asks after a beat, and you frown, trying not to let too much emotion out as you speak. “I’ve never told him, nor my parents. I’ve wanted to, but.. I’m scared he won’t return my feelings, and.. He was born a commoner. People won’t approve of that.” Unconsciously, your gaze shifts away from Minho and turns towards Chan. 

Minho notices, of course, and follows your gaze, seeing the way Chan is overtly staring at the pair of you dancing. Oh, he is in love with you, if the way he’s staring daggers into Minho is any indication. He almost wants to laugh at how oblivious you seem to be about it, but he also sympathizes.

He was there once– afraid to confess, afraid of what the reaction would be. And even now he’s still afraid of how his father will react if he ever confesses to his hidden relationship, so he’d be a hypocrite to tell you to not worry about it. 

But at the very least, he can be on your side. He can be a friend, an encouraging presence, a person who understands what you are going through. “I think you should tell him how you feel. Even if things don’t turn out how you hope, at least you tried. I think that’s better than having never tried at all, and living with regrets.” 

Honestly, he hopes you do confess your feelings, because he feels like he might burst into flames any second if your knight keeps staring at him with fire in his eyes. He’s so obvious, Minho isn’t sure how everyone else seems oblivious to it. But maybe he only recognizes that look in his eyes because he was there himself not too long ago, when others made advances on the person he loves most. 

There’s a brief moment of silence as you contemplate Minho’s words. What is better? Accepting your fate as it is now and never telling a soul how you feel about Chan, or confessing your feelings and experiencing what it’s like to openly love Chan, only to have it ripped away from you when your family doesn’t approve? You really don’t know.. 

“Hey, if it doesn’t work out, maybe we do get married and act as each other’s cover,” he says jokingly, hoping it can make you feel comforted to some degree once he notices you being trapped in thought about what to do next. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” you say with a small laugh, “Though if there is anyone I’d choose to be in a fake marriage with, it’d have to be you.”

Honestly, despite the unorthodox way it came to pass, it felt good to talk about your feelings for Chan. You didn’t have anyone to talk to about them, always keeping them completely to yourself. And you felt like you had a real friendship with Minho blossoming, one that could be maintained for years to come. “I enjoy your company. Platonically, of course,” you say with a smile. 

“As do I, Princess,” he smiles back, “Want to cheer to a good friendship?” “Let’s!” You say enthusiastically, letting your dance come to a close and allowing him to lead you to toast refreshments. 

If there was ever a time in Chan’s life he wishes he could disregard everything he’d ever been taught about rules and decency, it was now. He’s never felt so bitter in his entire life, the first time he’s ever felt spiteful at the unfairness of his situation. 

“Thank you for talking to her, she looks to be enjoying herself much more now,” the queen says with delight as she leans towards Chan, ensuring that he hears her thanks. All it does is effectively rub salt into his open wound.

“..Yes, she does,” Chan says, having to put effort into sounding anything other than gutted. The jealousy sizzling in his veins, envious desire stuck like bile in his throat.

He knows you well enough to know what a genuine smile looks like on you. He recognizes your body language, can see all the minute and subtle changes. It makes him physically ill, watching you be so happy with a man he knows you are likely to marry. Chan knew he was selfish, but he never realized how jealous he was capable of being. 

It was a luxury he didn’t realize he had– never having to see you in the arms of someone else. Sure, it was bound to happen, and he assumed he would be devastated when it inevitably occurred, but this? This all encompassing jealousy, this unadulterated greed– he doesn’t know how to process it, he doesn’t know how to calm himself down or mask it.

A realization zaps him suddenly, shocking his system as the feeling settles over him. He can’t let you go, he can’t put his feelings aside the way he thought he could. He’s not as strong as he thought he was, not as mature or as reasonable as he always thought himself to be. He can’t watch you be with someone else and be okay. If this is how he reacts to a situation so small, how will he feel when you actually marry?  

He’s fucked. Truly, unequivocally fucked.

His body and mind scream at him to act, to do something, do anything, but what is there for him to try? What can he do that isn’t hopeless? No, even if it is hopeless, even if it doesn't change a single thing, he has to regardless. That’s what every nerve in his body screams at him– if there was ever a time for him to conjure his bravery and win you over, it was now.

You breathe a sigh of relief when the night's festivities finally draw to close, eager to finally relax after hours of dancing and talking. Minho made the night more bearable at least; it was much easier to get through the evening when you had a friend to cling to and keep a good deal of your other suitors at bay. As soon as you finished bidding your goodbyes to the guests that were in attendance, you rushed over to Chan so he could finally lead you back to the privacy of your room.

“Princess.. I’m sure you’re tired, but can you wait for me here for a bit..?” Chan asks, hoping the nerves he feels aren't being conveyed in his voice or facial expression. You tilt your head, slightly confused but agreeing anyways. You really have no reason not to after all, especially if it’s a request from Chan of all people. He smiles and thanks you, running off quickly while promising he wouldn’t take too long.

You stand in the center of the ballroom alone, wondering what on earth Chan is having you wait here for. He could also get in trouble for leaving you alone here without anyone to watch over you, but whatever he has planned must be worth the risk he’s taking.. Is he trying to make sure no one is going to come back so that the two of you can dance together?

The thought makes you excited if you're being honest– you always love dancing with Chan, but you hadn't had many opportunities to after he began training to be a knight. And you’d happily do so if he wanted to, even if your feet were screaming at you from exhaustion.

You also have to admit, you enjoy the idea that after watching you dance all day, Chan wanted to have one with you too, even if it had to be once the event was over and within privacy. You wait as patiently as you possibly can, watching the doors to the ballroom, eagerly waiting for them to open.

And when they do, and your eyes fall on Chan entering dressed in what is possibly the most beautiful suit you've ever seen, your heart feels like it's going to burst. "You stayed," he smiles as he steps closer, his dimples on full display. His unruly hair that normally falls over his face has been tamed enough to show his features more clearly, the full extent of his handsome face on display just for you.

“C-Chan, you– I, wow, you look–” You try to speak but you stumble over your words, his beauty leaving you even more speechless when viewed up close. It really is the most beautiful suit you've ever laid eyes on. Or maybe you only think so because he is the one wearing it? Either way, he looks so incredibly handsome that you feel almost dazed, your brain quickly malfunctioning as you stare at him.

Truthfully, he had to save his salary for months to afford a suit this nice. You lived in a world of extravagant gowns and beautiful jewelry, and he knew that if he ever got the chance to dance with you again, he wanted to look like he belonged with you– even if it was just this one time. You don't care about aesthetics, he knows that, but it's still something he wanted to do. Looking at him the way you are now, he knows it was all worth it.

He always wanted to belong in your world, to look like someone that a princess could be with. Soon enough, you’ll have to decide which of your suitors to marry, and on that day he will lose you. If this is the last opportunity he has to share a dance with you, then he wants to make the most of it. Even if it's just for this short moment, he'd like you to see him as something more than a friend or knight.

He wants to live in a bubble where it’s just you and him, where he can show you the side of himself he always wanted you to see. A bubble where only the two of you exist, where everything but each other is background noise. His every moment, all he sees is you, and he wants to be the only one you see in turn. No one in your eyes but him, his every word hanging in your ears and gesture embedding in your heart.

He will allow himself this final selfish act before he lets you go, before he has to bury his feelings and lock them away for good. He will dance with you not as your best friend, your knight, or your student who is still learning the steps, but as a man in love with his princess. 

“May I have this dance, Princess?” Chan asks, smiling up at you as he bows, holding out his hand to you. You feel like your brain is short circuiting, all dance etiquette and rules leaving your mind as you stare at him. Your face has turned bright pink and your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest, but you manage to nod and let your hand reach for his. How will you even survive this dance when he’s smiling at you like that while looking so devastatingly handsome? 

Despite the glaring fact that all your knowledge is lost on you as he holds you closer, he leads you through your daze well. Humming melodies with his beautiful voice while he guides you through the steps– you feel like you’re in a dream. He’s looking at you so intently, smiling so charmingly between melodies, you feel like you’re melting. His eyes are sparkling with an emotion you’ve never seen on him before. 

No, that’s not true. You have seen it. Fleetingly, in quick moments where it would flash on his features, a moment so small you’d miss it if you blinked. Moments like now, where it was just the two of you, free to be yourselves, to talk and laugh and dance with no restriction. Every time you noticed that look in his eyes, his expression would change in an instant, or he’d turn his face away and not let your eyes linger on it. 

Affection? Care? Love? Is that the feeling that shows on his face when he looks at you? Is love the emotion that always makes him smile bashfully before he looks away from you? The one you sometimes catch, but is gone before you can really commit it to your memory? This is the first time you’ve been granted the pleasure of seeing it on his face for more than a few seconds, and it makes goosebumps erupt on your skin. 

All you can do is stare as he leads you through the dance, the entirety of his being capturing your undivided attention. A shyness bubbles underneath the surface, neither of you used to staring at one another so overtly, but you couldn’t possibly turn your gazes away. You decide that if you did somehow fall asleep at some point and this is a dream, that you’ll enjoy it for all its worth. 

You don’t know how he feels about you, really. At best you can guess, you can hope, but there’s no way for you to truly know. But what you do know is how you feel about him, and that’s enough, you think. It’s enough to make this moment the most special you’ve ever shared. It’s enough to lift up the shattered fragments of your heart and reconstruct them into something beautiful and new.

Does he love you as much as you love him? Regardless of the answer, you’ll never forget how you feel right now. A love beyond words, a happiness that transcends everything else. 

Chan, who was feeling confident until now, begins to feel a stutter in his heart. He wanted to impress you, to show you the most ideal side of himself, to make you see him, really see him, in the way he desired to be seen. But now that you are looking at him with such ardor in your eyes, with his hands on your waist and your arms around his neck, he feels like his heart could burst.

Was he once again naive to think he could put his feelings to rest after this? Foolish to believe that this moment would be enough for him to part from you satisfied with what little he had? 

Yes, he definitely was. Because the way you look at him now, he knows he can never go back to how things were before. He will want to see it again and again, paired with your sweet smile and cute mannerisms. Again, he realizes he's selfish. He doesn’t want you to look at anyone else this way, to give anyone else your affection, to smile at them the way you do at him. For better or worse, you’ll be there, in every thing he does and in every thought he has. 

Most selfish of all, he wants to kiss you so badly, to claim you as his. He wants to pull you even closer, to feel your warmth against him, to tell you that you are all he ever has, and ever will see. It’s always been you that lights up his world, always been you that gives fire to his ambitions, always you that makes his heart race and palms clam up. Since he was a child, for as long as he can remember until now, you were his everything. You became his world, everything he does revolving around you, forever drawn to you.

Before he can stop himself, his lips are on yours, connecting with you in the way he’s always dreamed of. There’s no time for him to rationalize his choice or scold himself for giving in to his selfishness. Chan has always been weak when it comes to you, after all. Unconsciously, his hands hold you a bit tighter, though he himself is unsure whether that’s because he’s afraid to let you go or because it just feels right to have you in his grasp while he kisses you.

You blink in surprise, time feeling like it has slowed to a complete stop. You feel like the air has been knocked out of you, your brain desperately trying to catch up with reality and make sense of its own racing thoughts. When Chan pulls back, you can see a panic forming in his eyes, apologies lingering on his lips. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have, I–” 

You pull him back to you before he can continue to ramble, continuing the kiss he started. He can’t regret this, can’t second guess letting the moment take him over; you won’t let him. You want to be lost with him, enveloped in his embrace and consumed by his touch, damn the consequences. You don’t care who catches you, you don’t care about what punishment either of you could receive; this is all you’ve ever wanted for so, so long. 

And maybe you should care, maybe you should stop him, stop yourself, but you refuse. If pushing him away is right, then you’d rather be wrong. His world may revolve around you, but yours revolves around him just as much. You can’t live without him, can’t bear to be apart from him. You want to stay with him, even if it causes everything else around you to crumble. 

You’re both breathless by the time you separate, his eyes searching over your face desperately for any sign of hesitation, because once he really has you, he’s never letting you go. “Princess, Y/N, I–” He pauses, words lodged in his throat, but his eyes convey everything. You see it, the clearest that you ever have.

“Do you love me?” You ask, watching intently as his face heats up all the way to his ears. “Please tell me. I love you, and I need to hear you say you love me too,” you all but plead, watching him swallow as he tries to conjure the words he wants to say.

He kissed you, so he can’t really deny it, but admitting it could make life even more difficult for you. Chan knows you well enough to know you’ll fight against your parents wishes, that you’d abandon your life here if it called for it, but can he let you do that? 

This is the last chance he has to listen to reason and walk away, his last chance to bury his emotions down deep, his last chance to use even just a modicum of self control.. But no, that's not what he wants to do.

Selfish, selfish, selfish. That’s all he’s ever been with you, and maybe all he ever will be. Because as much as he logically knows he should let you go, he just can’t. Because the thought of anyone other than him kissing you fills him with dread. Because even if it makes your reality harder, it’s still all he wants. 

All along, his answer has been there. He can’t turn away from you, and you won’t let him. Both of you are stubborn in your wants, both of you pulling to each other like magnets, unable to be drawn apart. That’s what makes you perfect for him, he supposes.

You're both a pair of reckless fools, willing to throw everything away for the other person. How can his answer be any different, especially when you’re looking up at him like this? Desperate to hear his answer, desperate to be loved by him and him alone. 

“I love you. I always have, from the very beginning,” Chan confesses, “I know it’s wrong, I know I’m not supposed to love you, and I’ve tried to hold it back but.. I can’t stand watching from the sidelines anymore, I can't stand the thought of you being with someone else. I love you, and I want to be the one who spends his life with you.”

‘I’m not supposed to love you.’ You hate that he had that thought, but you understand why. No matter how close you became, even when he never treated you any differently from anyone else, he wasn’t oblivious to your difference in station. Neither of you ever let your circumstances affect your friendship, but that didn’t mean the difference between you wasn’t still there. 

He recognized long ago that someone of his birth wasn’t meant to be with a princess, and he tried his best not to let his feelings for you show. You understood now too, why he became your knight despite all that it meant. Because he loved you, and that was the only way he could guarantee he would always be beside you. If he couldn't be your husband, that was the next best thing. 

"If there is anyone in this world who deserves to marry me, it's you. It's always been you, I've never wanted anyone else," you say with full sincerity. There’s no one else you would ever pick, no one else you’d ever give your life to. No matter how much time passes, how your life changes and how far apart you may end up, the love you have for your best friend, your knight, will always remain.

He kisses you again, with all his love and affection poured into it. Years worth of repressed feelings bubbling to the surface like a wellspring. His self restraint dissolves, kissing you over and over again as if his life depends on the repetition of the action. He holds you tightly, squeezing you closely to him, in a gesture that is as full of desire as it is love.

You’re both breathless when he finally allows you to separate, lips swollen and red from the continued use. You lost track of time, having no idea how much or how little the minutes have passed. All you know is Chan’s all encompassing presence, and finally knowing the feeling of his lips against yours.

You don’t want the night to end here, you realize. You don’t want to return to your room and carry on tomorrow as if this never happened. You don’t want to pretend that you’re not impossibly in love with him, you don’t want to pretend you don’t know how his body feels pressed against yours, or how it feels to have his lips on you.

“Take me to your room, Channie,” you plead, and he swallows, your request making his heart race impossibly fast. The majority of knights live in barracks, but as a royal knight in charge of the princess’ protection, his room lies close to yours, separated only by a few halls.

But despite the relatively close proximity, you’ve never actually been to Chan’s room before due to the risk. Even with your friendship being apparent, going directly to his quarters and staying for a prolonged time ran the risk of spreading untoward rumors. 

For royalty, their reputation is of the utmost importance, and while you didn’t care what people said behind your back, it was still something you had to be careful of for the sake of Chan himself. Even if you could easily recover from rumors, Chan wouldn’t be afforded that same luxury– it would undoubtedly follow him everywhere.

And this led to him often being in your room, using the pretense of his knighthood to enter your space and have private conversations and talk like friends, the way you did before he became your knight. But that was always during the daytime, and with other knights still standing out in the hall.

If those same knights saw him enter your room with you during the night, and not come back out until morning, it would certainly raise suspicions. Really, no matter what the two of you do tonight, there is risk, the probability of consequences you can’t come back from higher than it’s ever been.

“Are you sure..?” He asks, clearly worried about what could happen as a result. He wants to be with you, of course he does, but if it’s found out you stayed with him in his room for an entire night, the consequences wouldn’t be pretty. He needs to know you understand that, needs to know you want to be with him regardless of what could happen afterwards. You nod, resolve clear as you hold his hand tighter.

You were aware of the risks, but your love for him outweighed the concern. If anyone wanted to question you about being away from your room during the night, you had the confidence you needed now to fight for what you want. Now that you know he returns your feelings, you won’t let anyone get in the way of keeping you together, you’ll fight for it with all you have. And besides that, you're a princess. You were raised with the belief that the world was in the palm of your hands, so shouldn't you be allowed to have the things you want?

“I’ve thought about this a million times, Chan, I’m sure,” you tell him. Nothing will deter you from being with him– not anymore. “A million times, huh?” He teases with a smile as he pulls you along with him to exit the ballroom, his playful side coming back out as he leads you out to the hall and in the direction of his room. “Shut up,” you smile shyly as you slap his arm, a blush creeping across your face.

You have to suppress the giggle that threatens to leave you as you wind the halls together, a nostalgic sort of feeling welling in you despite this being the first time you are sneaking to his room like this. You snuck him into so many spaces, always sharing fond moments with him in secrecy, and really this is just an extension of that. 

The roles may be reversed in this instance, but the way you hold each other's hand and smile at each other is the same. The way you speak in hushed voices, the way you contain your gleeful giggles and the way you look at each other with pure joy, it's all the same.

When you reach his room, he ushers you in the door first, following behind swiftly and locking the door behind himself. “Just a moment,” he speaks softly as he moves carefully past you, lighting the candles he has on his nightstand. You use the dim light to survey your surroundings (as much as is possible, anyways,) taking note of all the things that make his space different from yours. 

Chan watches you with subtle amusement; his room really isn’t anything special, but you’re looking around it as if it’s the most interesting thing you could ever see. (And to be fair, it is a stark contrast from the luxurious space you’re used to living in.) His space, while decently sized, still pales in comparison to the size of your room. His furniture is much less exuberant in style, and bed significantly smaller than your own. But you like it better that way, you think– it feels homey. 

There’s a moment of silence that follows, not necessarily awkward, but rather hesitant as you turn your attention back to Chan. He’s sitting on his bed, looking incredibly handsome even in the dim candle light. Or did that add to it? You aren’t really sure. All you really know is that the way the subtle illumination and shadows frame his face makes your stomach twist. He really is way too handsome for his own good. 

Cautiously, you sit next to him, taking his appearance in more closely (despite the way it makes your heart feel like it’s going to implode.) He looks at you as well, taking you in just as attentively. Now that he can freely gaze at you without restriction, he wants to commit you to his memory. He wants to know your every blemish, every freckle and every line. 

You’re so impossibly beautiful– you could appear to him covered in grime and wearing tattered rags and he’d still think you were the most gorgeous thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Has he ever told you that? No, he doesn’t think he has. Every time he was awed by you, he’d look away before you could notice his blatant stare, never commenting outwardly on how incredible he thought you were. 

“Can I kiss you again?” Chan asks tentatively, eyes full of eager trepidation. It may be beyond his capabilities to tell you how gorgeous you are, but he can show you. You nod, a small "yes" leaving your lips. His hands seek you out first, resting themselves on your waist before he kisses you again.

It’s a slow, sensual kiss, one that leaves you full of butterflies. All the romance novels you read couldn't have prepared you for how it actually feels to be in the moment, for how it feels to have his hands holding you firmly as he kisses you. 

You want to move without restriction, you want to feel him closer, want to feel his touch on your bare skin. You separate, Chan watching you curiously as your face heats up in preparation for what you intend to ask. “Help me take off my dress?”

“W-What?” Chan stutters, bright red blush traveling from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. Did he hear you correctly? He’s certainly mistaken, right? “I-I mean, unless you think I should keep it on for the rest of the night..?” 

“N-No, right, of course not,” he says, swallowing as he watches you rise from the bed. He follows, hands trembling as watches you turn your back to him, waiting for him to help you untie your corset. He reaches out slowly, untying it as carefully as he can despite his shaking hands. 

The layers of your dress follow rather quickly after that, eager to get all the extra weight off your body and allow yourself to feel Chan's touch directly. It's not until you're at the final layer that you feel shyness creep back on you, Chan's hand stilling on your shoulders as his own nerves pick up as well. 

When he pulls it down, you'll be strictly in your underwear, the most exposed you've ever been to a man in your entire life. But as much as it makes you shy, it excites you almost equally as much. You turn around now, so that your back is no longer facing him. You cross your arms, placing your hands on top of his, looking up at his face as you guide his hands down your arms, pulling your dress down along with it.

He swallows, eyes following the path your hands lead him on, his face easily the hottest it's ever been in his entire life. You lower your arms once you are no longer able to guide his hands, letting the last piece of fabric fall to the floor around your feet. 

Fuck, he really should be looking at you respectfully, but it feels impossible. You are standing in front of him in nothing but your underwear, and you encouraged it, guided him to remove your clothing with your own hands. God, you're going to ruin him.

"Can I?" You ask as you rest your hands on his chest, the buttons of his suit easily within your reach, ready to undo them the moment he gives his approval. He does so easily, even helping you with the buttons and letting it fall to the floor the same way you did with your dress. 

You watch as he pulls the undershirt over his head, tossing it to the floor with everything else. Your eyes scan his torso, face heating up as you take in his toned physique. You assumed he was strong given his status, but you've never actually seen the proof of it until now. You'd be embarrassed for blatantly staring if not for the fact that he'd done the same to you just moments ago. It's only fair to stare at him as much as he stares at you– tit for tat, if you will. 

Chan's hands reach for his pants now, but he stops before he proceeds with removing them, looking at you as if to ask if it's okay with you before he does. Well, if the eager glint in your eye is anything to go by, you certainly want him to. He pulls them down easily after gaining your approval, kicking them off the rest of the way, (perhaps a bit unceremoniously, given the unprecedented circumstances,) not worrying at all about where they land.

You look at each other, an electric tension filling the space between you. The juxtaposition between the bashfulness and the desire leaving you temporarily stuck in place, a silent battle being waged between ‘should I act, or shouldn’t I?’

It’s typical for the man to make the first move in situations like this, isn’t it? But since when have you adhered to the stereotypical things that were expected of you? You hesitated before now out of fear– fear of what could happen to Chan and fear of your feelings being unrequited, but the minute he laid his feelings out for you, you decided there was no more time for fear, no time for hesitation. 

When you want something, you get it, and what you want right now more than anything is Chan, simple as that. You lay back on his bed now as if you own it, looking so relaxed, so assured, as you prop yourself up on your elbows and wait for him to return to your side. Fuck, do you even know what you're doing to him?

He slots himself between your legs, his body weight pressing down on you when he lowers himself to kiss you again. Your torso falls back against the bed when you lift your arms to hold his face in your hands, not letting the kiss break and dragging him back with you. His hands travel up and down your sides, always stopping just under the line of the fabric containing your breasts. 

He pulls away from your lips, looking at you closely as he lets his thumbs under the fabric ever so slightly. He’s silently asking for permission again, you realize, searching your eyes for any semblance of hesitation or regret. There’s none to be found, of course– all you feel is desire, is love. You want this as badly as he does, undeniably so. 

He pulls it up slowly, carefully, and you lift your back off the bed, allowing him to take it off you completely. You watch him swallow as he stares down at you, taking in the unfamiliar sight of your exposed chest. He’ll never admit how many times he envisioned this moment in his mind, but the reality is much better than anything his mind could have conjured up. 

When Chan finally tears his eyes away to look at your face again, you offer him a smile, one that makes his heart stutter. It’s soft, yet completely radiant, and patient. There’s no need for you to rush him along, nor do you judge him for taking his time to look you over. When it’s something special, something you’ve both wanted for so long, with more intensity than you can express, why would you rush? It should be savored, with even the smallest of details committed to memory. 

“I love you,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss you for what feels like the millionth time. His hands cup your breasts, feeling the weight of them in his palms for the first time, squeezing (gently, of course,) every so often. When the calloused pads of his thumbs rub over your nipples for the first time, and you let out the most sinfully sweet noise he’s ever heard, he’s done for. 

He wants– no, needs, to hear it again. Again, and again, and again, all for him, only ever for him. The small, soft gasps, the shuddering breaths, the shiver that runs along the entirety of your body when he touches you– it’s addictive, so terribly addictive. “Channie–” you whine into his mouth, and he has to suppress the groan that threatens to leave his throat in response.

“Again,” he says as he begins to trail kisses beneath your ear and down the expanse of your neck, “Say my name again.” You oblige his request easily, each small whine turning into a soft moan of his name.

Your voice, so dovelike, its sweetness all encompassing, commandeering all his senses. His hands travel lower, rubbing over the plush territory of your thighs, his fingers always coming dangerously close to your center before being taken away.  

He chuckles when you huff, a small pout on your lips that he finds adorable. He doesn’t mean to tease, but he has to admit he likes the reaction it grants him. “What’s wrong, darling? I didn’t think you were so impatient,” Chan says with an amused tilt in his voice, because at the end of the day, beneath all the shyness and desire that was at the forefront, he is still the playful person he’s always been. 

“Don’t be mean, Channie,” you all but grumble, your pout growing larger. It’s not like you’re trying to rush anything, it’s just.. He knows what he's doing, and he’s doing it on purpose! Making you all needy for his touch, being so close to where you want him but not actually granting it to you. 

He smiles, that dazzling one that makes your stomach twist, confirming that he does indeed know he’s tormenting you on purpose. “Apologies, my love. You’re just so cute when you pout.” You would definitely punch him if the statement didn’t make butterflies erupt in your gut. “Chan, please,” you shamelessly whine, and oh, how that instantly turns the tables back in your favor.

He’ll do anything for you, whatever you ask, everything he can offer, it’s yours. You realize that, don’t you? That even if he teases, even if he pretends he’s fine and not completely and utterly enamored by you, he can never actually resist you. “Tell me what you want, Princess. Anything you want, it’s yours. Anything.” 

“I-I–” you start, but quickly stumble over your words. The way he’s looking at you, waiting with bated breath for your answer, eyes eager and so willing to give you his all– it sends a shiver down your spine. You swallow, willing your racing heart to calm so you can speak properly. “I want.. To feel you. Inside me.”

Chan’s breath catches in his throat, cock twitching unceremoniously in response. He wants to, it’d be pointless to pretend he doesn’t, but.. “Are– are you sure?” he asks, the question laced with genuine care despite how eager he is for you to say yes. He wants to care for you, wants to make love to you, to claim you as his in the sweetest of ways, but he doesn’t want you to move faster than you’re ready for. 

Even if your confessions were a long time coming, even though there was years worth of yearning and desire, it’s still a lot to entrust yourself to someone like that. To trust them wholeheartedly, to grant them such pleasure and believe that they’ll take care of you in return.

And he needs to know that you understand the risks and the changes it will bring, and you aren’t saying it out of some spur of the moment obligation to please him. Because he’ll be happy, no matter how long he has to wait.

“Channie,” you place your hands on his face, forcing his eyes to stay locked on your own, “I love you so much. I want to do this with you.” You can feel his face heat up under your fingers, but he smiles– one that is shy, but at the same time full of unfiltered joy. Chan leans down to kiss you once more, showing you all the love and care that he can’t express with his words. 

His hands resume their original path, tracing up and down your thighs for a few moments before he finally hooks his fingers into your underwear. He pulls them down slowly, not with the intent to tease you this time, but because he knows when he finally sees what is waiting for him underneath the fabric his heart is going to beat out of his chest. 

You adjust your legs position to make the removal easier, watching Chan with nervous excitement. It is scary, you admit, being so exposed and vulnerable in front of someone else, but there is no one else in the world you trust more. No one but Chan makes you feel this safe and secure, and he’s shown you over and over how much love he carries for you. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he admits for the first time aloud. Would it be cliche to compare you to a goddess? Maybe, but that’s the only thing that comes even remotely close to conveying how alluring he thinks you are. More radiant than even Aphrodite herself, with even the wonders of the world paling in comparison to you. “Gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”

You watch him bring his hands to his own underwear, slipping them off with relative ease before settling himself comfortably between your legs. “I need to get you ready, okay darling? And then I promise, I’ll give you everything you want,” Chan speaks softly and you nod, entrusting yourself to him completely. 

He’s never done this before, so he follows his instinct, doing whatever feels right in the moment. His fingers rub carefully between your folds, spreading around the wetness that accumulated there. Your breathing halts when the pads of his fingers press against your hole, body tingling with overwhelming desire. Slowly, carefully, he pushes his middle finger inside.

The sensation is unfamiliar, but not at all unpleasant– in fact, the back and forth motion of his finger as it slides in and out quickly begins to draw soft whimpers from your lips. Soon enough, he’s adding a second finger, watching how they disappear in you with an almost mystified gaze. He can’t believe how snug you feel around his fingers, how wet and warm and fuck, he can’t even begin to imagine how good it’s going to feel around his cock. 

“Ah-!” you gasp loudly when, after some exploration, his fingers find a bundle of nerves that makes every nerve in your body erupt in pleasure. Your head falls back against his pillows, and you bite your lip, trying to contain the slew of loud noises that threaten to leave you everytime he rubs over it again. 

His fingers pump in and out at a steady pace now, not too fast as to overwhelm you, but enough to have stars constantly erupting in your vision. Your hands tightly grip the sheets beneath you, legs trembling and knot tightening in your gut unbelievably fast. Chan’s name leaves your mouth over and over between breaths and whines, like a looped mantra, the salacious melody you create music to his ears.

You clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle the loud whimpers and moans that rip through you as you come undone on Chan’s fingers. Would it be sacrilegious to call your noises heavenly when the reason for them is so sinful? He wishes more than anything he could hear them unfiltered, to allow them to flow freely from your lips without a care in the world about the volume and who could hear them. 

He slowly stills his fingers as you come down from your high, taking in the sight of you and memorizing every detail. The rise and fall of your chest as you catch your breath, the rosy tint of your cheeks, the beads of sweat that linger on your brow, all coming together to create an ethereal image. 

Chan plants soft kisses on your face as he gently slides his fingers out of you, complimenting you on how pretty you sound and beautiful you look. "Channie–" you start, and he smiles, knowing exactly what you intend to whine about. "Don't worry, my love. I'll keep my promise."

He takes his fingers, still wet with your release, and rubs them up and down his length, mixing his pre-cum with it along the way. As you watch you realize that his cock is much bigger than his fingers, and you wonder how it'll fit when just two fingers alone already felt like so much. 

“Are you ready?” Chan checks in with you when he’s lined up with your entrance, ready to stop at a moment's notice if you decide this is too much too soon. He can see the subtle worry beneath the anticipation, notices the way you unconsciously hold your breath when he presses against you. It's true, you are nervous, but not enough so to make you change your mind. So you nod, and he moves one of his hands to yours, intertwining your fingers. 

“Squeeze if you need to, okay? I'll go slow,” Chan assures you, placing a soft kiss on your temple before he begins. There’s a sharp intake of breath from you when he slowly begins to push inside, the sting being much more intense than you had anticipated. It goes beyond the discomfort you expected, eyes squeezing shut and your grip on his hand tightening. 

The minute Chan feels you squeeze his hand tighter, he pauses just as promised. You open your eyes after a moment, looking up at Chan to try and push the sting to the back of your mind. He's breathing heavily, brows knit together in a combination of pleasure and concern, beads of sweat dripping down the sides of his face.

It takes all his self control to not get lost in the sensation around him, needing to make sure he takes care of you properly. He can't hurt you, can't lose himself before making sure you'll feel good too, needs to put you above all else. 

"Do you need me to stop?" he asks, and you quickly shake your head no, expressing again how much you want to be connected with him in every way possible. Leaning down now, he kisses you until the discomfort subsides, whispering sweet words to you when he resumes the push, praising you over and over again until he's completely within you. 

You're still squeezing his hand, not due to any pain or discomfort this time, but to ground yourself through the overwhelming sensation of Chan being deep inside you. He continues kissing you softly, going above and beyond to ensure that you're relaxed and comfortable. "Love you so much Channie," you tell him, and he smiles sweetly, heart so full of adoration and infatuation for you. 

“Love you more,” he kisses you, ”so much,” another kiss, “never letting you go.” You giggle softly between his kisses, his words making your heart flutter. After graciously accepting a bit more of his doting, you soon notice that no trace of the initial sting or discomfort remains. In fact, being so full of him feels good, your body unconsciously seeking friction. 

“Channie, I’m ready now, want you to move, please,” you beg with such a soft and cute voice, he knows there is no way he can resist. Well, not that he would ever deny you what you want in the first place. With one last kiss, and reassuring squeeze to your hand, he finally allows himself to move. 

Slowly, as gently as he can, he pulls out, pressing back inside in one fluid motion when only the tip remains, repeating the action through shaky breaths and his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. Even with the languid pace, it's enough to drive him insane. Every detail of you, from the way you look, the way you sound, the way you feel wrapped around him, so snug and warm and inviting– it’s intoxicating. 

Chan’s arms reach beneath you, hooking under your back and hands holding your shoulders, keeping your body closely pressed against his own. His face is buried in your neck, low groans beneath your ear, for you and you alone to hear. You make your own effort to keep him close as well; one hand tangling in his curly hair and the other tightly gripping his bicep.

He’s going slow, not just for your sake, but for his own. Because if he doesn’t he’s going to blow, because he wants to live in this moment for as long as he possibly can, because being close to you like this is everything he’s ever dreamed of. You’re his, finally his, and he wants it to last, wants to indulge in the feeling and the emotion of being your chosen lover. 

It takes him a few tries to find the spot that makes you see stars with just his cock, but he knows he’s found it when you (unwittingly) let out a loud moan, nails digging into his skin and eyes rolling back. He picks up his pace now, chasing the sound of your pleasure-filled voice, wanting to hear you call his name over and over again.

He kisses you again when your combined noises begin to grow in pitch, muffling one another in a desperate attempt to keep the sounds of pleasure confined to the 4 walls of Chan’s room. You want to be quiet, you know you should be, but you truly can’t help it. But if he’s being honest, he likes that you can’t keep your voice down, likes that he’s making you feel so good that you can’t suppress it.

Chan is getting close now, and he pulls himself away from your lips, wanting to look at you once more before his approaching orgasm overtakes him. Even now, when you're breathless, cheeks red and hair sticking to your forehead due to the sweat, you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

"Wanna cum in you," he manages to say between his low moans, “will you let me, please? Need to fill you up, need to make you mine forever, just like I'm yours."

Once again, your stomach flips, the words having an immense effect on you. "Y-Yes, yes, cum in me, I'm yours, only yours," you answer easily, wanting nothing more than to feel (and watch) him come apart because of you. His pace stutters following your permission, thrusts growing quick and sloppy as he chases his high, groans turning into drawn out whines. 

The faster pace sends you reeling, toes curling has the knot in your stomach tightens and snaps in quick succession. You pull Chan back down to you, kissing him deeply as you cum around his cock, both to muffle yourself and as a gesture of the all consuming love you feel for him. He lets out soft, desperate whimpers as he releases inside you, ropes of cum painting your walls white.

You both stay like that for a few moments– breathlessly wrapped in one another's embrace, sharing soft kisses as you come down from your highs, soft admissions of love leaving your lips. You wince when Chan’s softening length pulls out of you, feeling extremely sensitive following the loss of your virginity. 

Chan blows out the candles before he lays down next to you, leaving the moonlight coming through his window as the only illumination. He intended to pull you close to him, but he didn't have to– you snuggle up to him the moment you can, laying your head on his chest and wrapping your arm around his torso, legs tangling with his.

His racing heartbeat begins to slow, an extreme relaxation sweeping over his body. He closes his eyes, your soft breathing serving as his own personal lullaby. Carefully, he reaches his free arm out for his blanket, pulling it over to cover your nude bodies.

He’s nearly asleep when he hears you softly call his name, voice quiet but still loud and clear in his ears. “What is it, darling?” he asks as he opens his eyes and lifts his head to look at you. There’s a moment of silence that follows as you consider how best to voice what you want to say, but Chan is patient, looking at you with a soft gaze.

“Do you.. Think we can really get married?” You finally ask, and Chan’s heart squeezes in his chest when you do. He can hear the tremble in your voice so clearly, feels the way you hold him tighter as you wait for him to answer.

If he’s being truthful, he doesn’t know. It’s what he wants, what he hopes for more than words can express, but just doesn’t know. And it breaks his heart to see you like this– clearly vulnerable and unsure. You’ve always sought out Chan for comfort, but it’s different this time. Different because you now know the depths of love you both share, the desire to always be together and the fear that you’ll be driven apart.

You’ll fight for your love, of course you will, because there is no happiness to be had if Chan isn’t by your side. But you don’t want to have to fight for it, you don’t want either of you to suffer, you don’t want Chan to be driven away from you by people who don’t understand and don’t value him for who he is. You want your love to be accepted, to openly profess your love, to marry the only person you’ve ever had eyes for.

Tears are welling in your eyes, and he can see them even in the dim moonlight. “Y/N..” he uses his free arm to reach for your face, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall with his thumb. “I’m going to marry you. No matter what I have to do, I will,” Chan tells you, voice gentle but resolute. He meant it when he said he’s never letting you go, meant it when he said he’ll always be yours and always be beside you.

He doesn’t know what the future holds– if things will come easy for you both, or if you’ll have to fight tooth and nail just to be with each other. But he knows that no matter what the answer is, he will be with you. Whether in your toughest moments or happiest, he’ll be there. Holding your hand, giving you his love, sticking with you until the end of his days.

Whether it’s tomorrow, months, or even years from now, he’ll be your husband. You’ll be the one he shares his life with, the one he starts a family with, the one he sees every morning and every night. He’ll hold you close, starting your days with ‘I love you’s’ and ending them with the same, giving you all he has to give. 

“No matter what happens, we’ll get through it together, okay? I love you so much,” Chan says and you nod, a soft smile on your face as you wipe your eyes and lay your head back down against him. “Love you, Channie.” He kisses your head softly, urging you to relax, to fall asleep, and not worry about what could be, but indulge in what is.

Indulge in the love you share, the feeling of closeness as you lie together in his bed, the sound of his heartbeat in your ear and his gentle reassurances. He’ll still be here when you wake up, will keep you in his arms, holding you close and making sure you know how much he adores you, how much he loves you. Because no matter what the future brings, you still have this moment. You still have each other.

[wetcatspellcaster]

2024 fic wrapped

I was tagged by @cursedhaglette to do this tag-game, but I found the focus on stats made me a little uncomfortable! (also, no one needs to know how many words I wrote while having multiple breakdowns last year, truly).

But, I didn't want to ignore Mia's tag! so instead, I'm going to take @cinnamontails-ff wrapped tag-game, just bc I sympathise with the logic and I like this set of questions a lot more!

Thank you Cin for coming up with questions that don't focus so much on productivity. And thank you again, Mia, for including me in the original game :) hopefully this is an acceptable substitute!

What's been your biggest learning point this past year?

I guess, what it feels like to be a 'popular' author - and the answer is, 'both good and bad, in fact, extremely mixed'. Obviously, many parts of it are wonderful: more people interacted with my work in the height of the BG3 fandom than I've ever had before, I felt like my writing mattered and I enjoyed every conversation I had about it. I also felt under a lot more scrutiny, very hyperaware of how I acted in 'public' (ie. on this blog), and aware of the people I'd disappoint with the directions I took my stories and what I chose to include. I also had to watch the baffling half-life of modern fandom! BG3's 6 month peak and 1yr trough was wild to me, as someone who joined dragon age 8yrs after the game was released. But I've decided I actually really like the middle-road of interaction, with much less noise and dedicated, recurring readers who I recognise and who make me smile and laugh every single time they comment or tag my work. I'll probably never experience whatever the fuck Pieces was ever again, and I'm honestly... ok with that, currently? Not to sound awful, but I'm not sure I liked it lmao.

In terms of my writing, my biggest learning point was "you're good at this, actually". Chanting this to myself in the mirror while I white-knuckle the sink.

How has your writing developed this past year?

I'm genuinely not certain. Pieces was certainly my most ambitious story yet, but a lot of the outlining of that took place in 2023 so it feels like the development happened then... though I suppose landing the dismount was something I worked very hard to do. I guess the main development this year was that a lot of what I wrote was extremely, extremely angsty. I wrote Pieces, I wrote This Is Not A Love Story. and I gave Rosalie to Orin :))))) this doesn't necessarily surprise me, given the way my writing often reflects things I'm dealing with in my life, and I've been trying to both recover from - and desparately stave off a relapse into - depression. I think that I can see why I keep making characters into the worst versions of themselves (this goes for Astarion, Rosalie - bc Pieces Rosalie is NOT in a good place, Gale and my Durge) and then watching them claw their way back to happiness in the hope of proving to myself that that's possible.

But jfc, it all got a little heavy. I've decided that 2025 is the Year of the Rom Com™.

Good writing habits?

Committing myself exclusively to what I want to read and sticking to my guns - which means I actually finish the thing, rather than getting into my own head about it.

Stretching my comfort zone a little (writing something vaguely smutty, writing something very different in style, switching genres for a bit) without losing my own voice.

Not falling into any jealousy/existential crises about my own writing, which I guess is much easier when you're experiencing a bout of 'success', but I've managed to keep it up even after the success began tailing off :)

I wrote a lot of words last year. I'm not putting the stat down but god. It was a lot.

Bad writing habits?

Overwriting everything. Everything. All the time. Party Favours was so short!!! I used to write novellas!!! Why are my chapters so fucking long now?????

Having multiple fic wips when I promised myself I'd wind down fanfic and start writing original work again :')

I wrote a lot of words last year. I think I did this bc I was extremely unhappy, and productivity is how I define myself. when I feel bad, I write and post bc it makes me feel good. And I felt very bad this year. So anyway, I think my wordcount is both a good thing and also a wee cry for help :'))))

Favorite thing you wrote?

Chapter Twenty-Three of Pieces (Mephistopheles consultation and my Ascended!Astarion meta-reveal)

Chapter Four of Cooler Than Me (putting the blorbos in a formal-wear situation)

I also liked my sex scene in Pieces :') it was tame but it was written for me specifically x

Favorite reads?

for fic!

long summer days can lead to lazy vices by @pouroverpaloma

eyes like fire by demonsbanebard

only once by @bearhugsandshrugs

and of course stitched into your sleeve by the bestie (@violacae)!!! my first ever gift fic!!!

for literature!

The Scholar and the Last Faerie Door by HG Parry

Long Live Evil by Sarah Rees Brennan

Deeplight by Frances Hardinge

Biggest win?

god. I'm endlessly grateful for my gift fic and for my fanart, but... it's got to be bookbindings. I used to daydream, about somebody ever wanting to have my fic bound, but I thought it was impossible and would never happen! I now know of 3 copies of my work that exist in the world :D and the ones I've seen were fucking gorgeous, like oh my fucking god.

I am also very proud I finished Pieces! It was my most ambitious project, and writing the ending presented even more challenges than I expected - as I discovered how much you write yourself into a corner when you resoul Astarion. I still haven't managed to read the completed work in full yet, but I'm proud it exists :)

Goals for the new year?

finish outstanding wips, and then see where my writing takes me next. I want to write original work, but I also don't want to make it a resolution. As long as I continue to enjoy writing, that's what matters most to me!

Your favorite words of the year, aka the words you check each chapter for, making sure you didn't repeat them 788 times?

I think I use '[x character] froze' a lot, but rather than focusing on my repetitions I want to focus on some of my favourite turns of phrase that I managed to pull from the ether! :)

'before her brief courtship with death threatened to become a commitment' - from the risk and the reward

'We can all still be butchered. We cut away the parts of ourselves to make us fit' - from this is a love story.

"He played an androgynous, morally-grey vampire, of indeterminate gender! In a nice coat! Anyone who had two working eyes and a relevant Kinsey Score read the porn, back in the day!” - from cooler than me

What are you excited for in the new year?

act 3 astarion characterisation for honest lie! the first big romance moment in cooler than me! and then just romcoms! 2025 is the year of the romcom! I want to write exclusively happy things!!!!

tagging: @cursedhaglette (as it's a different set of questions lmao), @imscissorbladez, @violacae, @eraserspiral, @scaryanneee, @sitting-in-the-sink, @pricemarshfield, @pouroverpaloma and anyone else who wants to give this a whirl. anyone is welcome, and if you tag me in it I'll share x

[you-remind-me-of-the-babe]

Thank you for tagging me @run-for-chamo-miles @emeryhall @artsyunderstudy @roomwithanopenfire @j-nipper-95 @best--dress @noblecorgi @prettygoododds @ileadacharmedlife @nausikaaa @rimeswithpurple @forabeatofadrum @monbons! It’s amazing to see the creative out put of this fandom this year!

I have written a lot less this year than in the past. When I first started writing in late 2021 I published roughly 80k words in 4 months, followed by 120k in 2022 and 83k in 2023. This year clocked in at only 46k. Despite the downward trend, I still wrote some stuff. Here’s a list:

🛼 Keep the Skates On - Explicit - 4k

Self indulgent roller skating fic for Erotic Grope Fest that I say is just a blowjob on wheels but in reality has some good backstory built in via flashbacks of their meet cute.

This story was also immortalized via art by the crazy talented Rimeswithpurple. Even just the shot of Baz’s skates and Simon’s shoes is so cinematic and big brained it still blows my mind.

💦Swimple Times, Swimple Pleasures - Mature - 2.5k

Baz and Simon rent a backyard pool for an hour while in Nebraska and sexy times ensue. Hopefully no one is watching…

This was a gift fic meant to immortalized an interesting yet lovely afternoon with friends in Omaha at SSCONE. Good times.

⏱️Back and Back and Back - Mature - 21k (WIP)

My time travel, canon divergent AU in which Baz is visited throughout his childhood by a Dragon Man he comes to find is an older version of his Watford roommate and nemesis.

My poor abandoned WIP. What can I say? It’s fully plotted via outline but I just lost steam writing this one. The school year took over in the fall and it just seemed unwieldy to come back to. But I love this story and playing with what might change in canon with this twist and what could have stubbornly stayed the same. I’m a completionist in many ways so there’s a good chance I’ll come back to this but without anything like a fest deadline lighting a fire under me it may be a while.

🕺The Wedding Planner - Teen - 6k

Baz, the wedding planner for a high profile wedding, gets roped into standing in for the bride in a dance lesson with the groom. The only problem is the frustratingly handsome groom and him have a past…

This fic was written in collaboration with Rimeswithpurple for CORB. Arianna killed it with the art, and it was such a joy to bring words to her idea. This story is a 40k fic disguised in a smaller package. I used a lot of flashbacks to build out the backstory (a similar strategy that I used in Keep the Skates On) which was wonderfully helpful because without it, I doubt I would have been able to write either fic. I think I was really feeling incapable of writing plotty stuff after temporarily shelving Back and Back and Back, and for both of these fics I found I could not write from the beginning because I didn’t want to do the slog through the set up. What ultimately worked for both was opening a new doc, starting the story in the middle, and filling in backstory as I went where necessary. This worked wonders, especially when I was crunched for time or feeling uninspired. I wrote the parts I wanted to write, which helped me get invested, and then the other bits followed easily. I’m such a linear writer that I never thought this strategy would work for me (starting with the scene I wanted to write) but! Cheat code! Start there and still write straight through! Amazing!

🎁 From the Heart - Teen - 12k

Watford, truce era, canon divergent story in which Simon finds Baz’s list of gift ideas for his Secret Santa assignment and freaks out when he realizes it’s for him. Baz? Trying to be thoughtful toward Simon? Cute gift giving crises soon follows.

This was a gift for @bookishbroadwayandblind for the Carry On discord server’s Secret Snowflake Exchange. This was so fun to write. Just fluffy, cute, pining with very low angst and a satisfying get together. Come for the silly premise, stay for the feeeeelings.

It’s nice to see these all stacked up because even though I wrote a lot less this year, AO3 still says I had 3k hits, 391 kudos, 109 comment threads, 77 bookmarks and 42 work subscriptions in 2024. That ain’t nothing! Thank you to everyone who engaged with these stories ✌🏻

Other notable fandom highlights:

-Meeting up with friends in Omaha for SSCONE!

-More meet ups for the Slow Dance release in LA!

-Mod’ing the Carry On Reverse Bang and Secret Snowflake Exchange!

-Tons of beta reading, which I really love doing <3

-Sooo much lovely fic and art was digested. My tbr is still so long but I suppose that’s not a bad problem to have.

Playing my tiny violin for a moment because sometimes we gotta keep it real and share the struggles:

-This was the first year I struggled with keeping up with people’s tumblr tags and posts and I feel a little sad when the notifs pile up and I haven’t responded. Sorry fam!

-Similarly, my AO3 inbox is full of comments I haven’t responded to which also bums me out. I kept it at zero for 3 years (I never delete, I either respond or mark responses as read) and my damn WIP has made me feel incapable of responding to nice comments because I’ve left it languishing. I love our comment culture in this fandom and I would like to get around to responding at some point.

-While organizing and helping to facilitate CORB can be really fun, there were a lot of behind the scenes challenges this year, some of which are still buzzing around my head.

Looking ahead to 2025

As many have said in their own posts, the community and friendships are the best parts of fandom and I hope to continue to cultivate those in 2025. That’s my main goal. Keep these relationships and keep vibing with y’all. I’m sure I’ll still be reading fic and ogling fanart. I’d like to get back to doing more fic rec posts and organizing them in some way. Maybe I’ll finish my WIP. Hopefully I’ll reply to all those lovely comments in my inbox. I might help mod some other fests. CORB is in need of new mods. I’ll organize a way to either get myself some help or possibly pass the torch if there’s interest in it running again.

Tagging some friends if you’d like to share anything about your year @cutestkilla @bookish-bogwitch @shrekgogurt @facewithoutheart @skeedelvee

@thewholelemon @iamamythologicalcreature @orange-peony @leithillustration @whogaveyoupermission

@mooncello @fiend-for-culture @aristocratic-otter @ic3-que3n @blackberrysummerblog

@talentpiper11 @alexalexinii @laura-art77 @whatevertheweather @bookishbroadwayandblind

[vampiresharena]

Stupid Sexy Sanguinius

Summary: instead of paying attention to the sermon, you spend the time coming up with fanfiction of Sanguinius inspired by the suspiciously sexy murals of him Genderneutral Reader

Author‘s Note: This is kind of a crack idea but it‘s really fun so I wrote it. Also now this contains a lot of worldbuilding! Also this definetly isn‘t inspired by me outlining toxic yaoi fics during mass because I went to a catholic school once upon a time and was forced to attend chruch services 

Content Warning: kinda religious fanaticism, mentioned public execution and blooddrinking/cannibalism (not graphically described), mostly nude paintings, smutty fanfics (just the outlines, nothing graphic)

AO3-Link

You are almost vibrating with excitement as you squeeze into the wooden bench, trying to not to disturb your mother‘s attempt to convince your siblings to sit down. To your left, your brother is chastising his daugther for trying to cover her eyes, the little girl clearly scared of the large murals depicting the primarchs in battle and death. After a moment she sniffels, putting her hands down and stubbornly staring at her shoes.

You aren‘t quite sure what strings your father pulled for your family to have a bench on the lower gallery - the front row no less! -, he just winked and said the day trip two cities over should be worth it, as if beeing in the same building as one of the holy primarchs bones wasn’t enough. The view from up here is truly glorious: when you lean sligthly forward, you can see that the lower parts of the temple are allready completly filled, people now squeezing into the hallways. When you look to the sides and up, you can see the Adepta Sororitas in their blessed armour, standing in smaller galleries, and you know that in the one above you sit your planets nobles, perhaps even the governer. Behind the altar, the orchestra and choir have almost finished setting up, their gold-decorated uniforms glittering in the evening light. 

The whole temple goes completly still, even the bells quieting, when the abbess emerges from below, a lift and trapdoor making it appear as if she has just grown from the ground. The two large screens high up on the wall spring to live as the lights dim, showing the abbess face. 

You surpress a sigh. You visit this temple at least once every standard month, more frequently if your duties permit - and they usually do, little earthly work is more important than to worship at a place like this - even if not your entire family accompanies you, and by now you know the preachers. Sadly this one is only known for her long, barely coherent rambeling which she tends to repeat ad nauseum. 

Instead you focuse on the large mural behind the altar, depicting the holy Lord Sanguinius standing triumphant over the rubble of a xenos settlement, naked aside from a laurel crown and several large necklaces with His groin only obscured by a couple of conveniently placed feathers. The artist definetly had a large talent in rendering the sweat coating His muscles and the blood dripping from the xenos‘ head, which He is holding, onto His tanned skin. His great wings are a umber colour, feathers with dark brown tips, and long red hair tussled in a invisible breeze. 

You smile, knowing that tomorrow you will visit your best friend so you can borrow their brother‘s personal cogitator to scour the Noosphere for stories of Sanguinius - or in your friend‘s case Corvus Corax - romancing a large variety of serfs, nobles and warheros until their brother lectures you about the price of printing ink again. 

You glance to your sides: your father and some of your younger siblings seem completly enraptured by the sermon, while your mother seems more busy with observing the Sororitas. You niece is still staring at your shoes. When you study the crowd, you see more people that seem not that interested in the actual sermon, so you lean back and start to continue outlining the story you have been scribbeling in your notebook during the past hours whenever your siblings left you alone for a moment.

When you had to stop, Sanguinius had just escorted the beautifull heir to a human empire on a barbarian world to His bedroom, to show them some of the finer things the Imperium has to offer. For example His absolutly massive bed with the sheets made from fabrics you have only ever read about and of course His own marvelous body crafted by the finest technology the Imperium had to offer in millenia past. So really, it is quite usefull that you now have ample time to stare at the gorgous mural that leaves so little to the imagination. 

Your little brother hisses something at you when the pipe organ and the orchestra start to play, staring with you with a gaze as if he‘d call the inquisition on you for falling to your knees a second to late. You ignore him, instead starting to sing along with the hymns you had beaten into you since beeing a small child yourself. You really should figure out what song really fits your current story… probally not a temple hymn tough, more one of the songs that play on the radio when you have enough electricity to spare. Or perhaps one that you have found on the Noosphere and that always makes your parents complain about the youth of today. Not like their songs were that good. 

After another sideglance tells you that your niece is much more comfortable now that the music has started playing, and decide that you can decide on a song later today. Much more pressing is of course the question of how Sanguinius clothes fasten. You and your other writer friends had a discussion about it just recently and most of you decided that you liked the option of completly backless garments most. 

You remember a flowing red dress, decorated with hundreds if not thousands of gemstones, you recently saw a noble wearing - well you saw the news paper article about a gala they went to - and decide that such a dress could be suitable for a holy Primarch, granted you will need to add a lot more gold embroidery and stones to it. This type of dress probally only has a handfull of buttons holding it up and combined with the barbarian Sanguinius is seducing not exactly wearing many clothes, the undressing scene should be quite easy to write. 

The music ends and as you sit down again you start to ponder wheter you should include a shower scene but quickly decide against it since you do not want to figure out the logistic of showering while having massive wings. Instead your thoughts return to how nice it would be to run your fingers through Sanguinius‘ hair and to touch His perfect chest and stomach and of course to kiss him. You have decided a while ago that Sanguinius would be a gentle lover, quite in contrast to your barbarian protagonist. 

By the time you figured out how the two finally land on the bed without all the fancy blankets and pillows getting in the way, you see some commotion in the side galleries, the Sororitas moving around with several now sitting on the railing while others vanish in a hidden door. You sit up a bit straigther and to finish the outline later, now actually paying to the sermon even if you heard this rambeling about how it is everyones sacred duty to fight and die for the Imperium before. 

Other people have noticed the commotion too, a murmur going through the masses as the music starts to play again, quieter this time. Your niece is kicking her legs in excitement. 

The murmurs erupt into loud cheers and screams of excitement as the choir starts to sing again and the Sisters of Battle jump from the railing, using their jump packs to land right in front of the golden altar containing one of Sanguinius‘ fingerbones, immediatly falling to their knees. 

You jump up, like everyone around you, clapping as more Soraritas march in from two side doors, followed by a handfull of nobles. You also spot a small squad of Sisters Repentia and make a mental note to read up on Saint Celestine as soon as possible. 

You watch as the Abbess pulls out a large golden chalice filled with the blood of the criminals executed right before mass started before starting to bless those kneeling in front of the altar and letting them drink from the cup. For a moment you wonder how it would feel like beeing so close to one of the holy Primarch‘s bones and how you might be able to get close to the altar despite beeing neither a member of the Adepta Sororitas nor a proper noble. 

As you start to sing another hymn, seeing the first people starting to leave the temple, your attention is drawn to the large mural of Sanguinius for the last time this evening. Your local temple should really update it‘s own wall paintings. Perhaps you‘ll comission someone to paint a portrait of Sanguinius for your home altar later this year. Another thing to think about once you finish writing your story. 

You follow your siblings as your mother herds all of you into the hallway and towards the stairs, talking about wanting to catch the early bus. You sigh internally, knowing that the bus will most likely be too crowded to sit and definetly too crowded to write in peace.

[voxofthevoid]

Random, what are your top favorite fics that you've written (feel free how much that you want to list)? Why they're special to you? Is there a specific inspiration when you wrote them?

Oh, this is gonna be dominated by JJK 😂. I'm always more aware, let's say, of things I wrote more recently. On top of that, with JJK fics, I've tried new things and challenged myself (successfully) a lot more than I have with my previous fandoms.

I've picked 7: five from JJK, plus one each from Bleach and MCU.

1. (let me be clear) every version of the story ends with you being slaughtered

JJK, goyuu: When told to choose his hell, Itadori Yuuji picks the easier one—a clean death, then and there. He couldn’t have known that it was never really a choice. Or, Gojou Satoru kidnaps a teenager, supposedly for his own good.

This is the work I'm most proud of among all my stories, and I'm sure that'd be the case even without recency bias. Not only is it the first canon rewrite I completed, it's also a story that tackles a lot of themes and tropes I find highly compelling, in general and with regard to JJK in particular. Plotting and executing it was a fun challenge; I worked with an extensive outline, but the plot and characters evolved significantly during the writing process. It was fun from the beginning to the end (there's a reason I finished this in less than two months), and the final result is something I'm immensely satisfied with.

2. bloodstains on the collar means just don't ask

JJK, sukuita and goyuu: Yuuji has a type. Unfortunately, his uncle and his teacher embody that type.

This was my first no-powers AU for JJK, and I ended up liking it way more than I expected. Transposing Yuuji, Gojou, and Sukuna to a mundane setting while keeping their relationships twisted really helped me get a deeper and better understanding of their characters and relationships. In particular, I'm now far more comfortable writing sukuita and utterly in love with their uncle/nephew dynamic. I write or intend to write plenty of incest for JJK, but most of those didn't really delve into the implications of the blood relation (due to canon circumstances), but this story is explicitly and excruciatingly clear on how Sukuna's known and (in his own fucked-up way) cared for Yuuji since he was an infant. It's a flavor I hadn't tackled before but enjoyed immensely.

3. little lamb to the slaughter

JJK, goyuu: Gojou offers to blow Yuuji as part of his training; it escalates from there.

It's rare that I fill in canon missing moments like this, but I just couldn't resist the basement era. I'm so fond and proud of this because this is the fic that cemented my grasp on Yuuji's character, in addition to helping me flesh out Gojou and Yuuji's canon dynamic. Hilariously, back when I came up with this, I figured this would be my most imbalanced, unhealthy dynamic for JJK/goyuu, but not only did this fic turn out pretty wholesome (...aside from the statutory rape aspect that goes ignored in-verse), but the bulk of my subsequent ideas for this ship makes this fic look like puppies and unicorns in comparison. I guess that impression came because it'd been quite a while since I tackled adult/minor, so it felt taboo in a way I took time to adjust to—now I thrive here.

4. the brute fact of flesh awaiting our teeth

JJK, fem!goyuu: Satoru embarks on a quest to seduce her hot giant of a teacher and continuously bites off more than she can chew.

I started this because I wanted to write filthy femlash porn, which I absolutely did do and enjoy immensely, but the reason this ended up so high on my list of favorite children fics is because exploring the role reversal dynamic and the genderbending one in tandem helped me better flesh out adult!Yuuji, especially one that lived with Sukuna for years and eventually subsumed him (her, in this case), and get a good handle on how I want to work in the gender changes while retaining their canon traits. I've tried at my hand both dynamics before, separately, but the length and depth of this fic solidified both. Also, I go wild for tits and pussy, and it shows.

5. i could keep your bed warm, otherwise i'm useless

JJK, goyuu and sukuita: Sukuna in Megumi’s body rapes Yuuji to break Megumi’s spirit, and Gojou rescues him but isn’t very sane afterward.

This is going to sound demented, but I like this one so much because it has the most viscerally uncomfortable rape scene I've ever written. It's not the sukuita; that's straightforward violent rape. But the goyuu that follows features a specific flavor of intimate violence framed as tenderness: someone who cares about you pushing your boundaries and actively retraumatizing you—not in spite of the love or even from a lack of love but because of the love.

6. and you cried, love's like watching someone die

Bleach, grimmichi: Repeat reincarnation cycle AU where Ichigo never remembers and Grimmjow never forgets.

This is a total angst train that was something of an ambitious project, in terms of technique, characterization and the general mood I wanted to evoke. Judging by my post-fic analysis and my readers' reactions, I succeeded. Writing such a heavy emotional story from Grimmjow's PoV wasn't easy, and the non-linear sequence was a bitch to sort out, but I'm very happy with how it turned out.

7. here is the repeated image of the lover destroyed

MCU, stucky: Steve's helpless not to love his ghosts.

Memory, identity, and associated manifestations of love and grief are themes that have haunted me for years now, including in the JJK fandom, but these two stories are my best takes on it, in my view. Said themes are already intrinsically present in Steve and Bucky's relationship, and this series recasts their past and their present to prod at questions of how much of us is our memories and experiences and how much is something there in core—a soul, so to speak. This is a fundamentally romantic take on the topic, so the outcome is obvious, but I'd like to say the answers are a little complicated.

[gutsby]

Guts you are a fucking insane writer and I'm so grateful we have you, like your works are absolutely incredible they are hot but also like lyrical.. so beautifully written.. you know? Thank you for sharing with us. do you have any advice for someone who has wanted to give writing fics as an outlet a try but feels like they're not creative or talented enough? Tips/tricks sorta thing? Love u madly deeply

FIRST, I LOVE YOU.

SECOND, thank you so much!!! I’m so so glad you enjoy my brainrot stories and I hope to keep them coming for y’all!! 🥹🩷🩷

THIRD, THAT’S SO EXCITING!!!! Fic writing (or any kind of creative writing, really) is the fucking best, and I’d be happy to share some tips!! Pick and choose whichever ones speak to you, but I hope these can be of some use 😩

No matter what you or anyone else says/thinks, YOU ARE CREATIVE AND TALENTED ENOUGH. Wherever your writing goes, whatever you choose to do with it, is enough. I know writing (and sharing your ideas) can seem daunting, but please don’t ever count yourself out of an opportunity just because you’re worried your work won’t be up to snuff!!

READREADREADREADREADREAD! READ!!! Not only fanfic, but flash fiction, short stories, novellas, novels, ANYTHING. I cannot overstate the importance of being an avid, active reader when it comes to improving your own writing. I sometimes struggle to find the time to read and write and work and live life, so I try to set reasonable goals. If nothing else, I read at least 5 pages per day of the book I’m reading, or I pick a short story and go with that. Lately I’ve been trying to expand the kinds of short stories I read, so I have a handful of websites to find what I like: (I’m on mobile so apologies if the formatting below is fucked 😭)

Project Gutenberg (good for finding classics and other popular stories)

The New Yorker (free 30-day trial and I think you get a few stories for free every month after ??)

Lightspeed (I’m not big on sci-fi/fantasy but trying to branch out!)

This loooooong list of literary magazines - not all are free, but many of them are

Write on the Tumblr app (or Notes). I may be one of the only freaks that does this, but I write every single one of my stories on mobile. I just prefer it to typing on a computer. It also may help with making the writing process seem less scary - at least for me, something I’m typing up on my phone doesn’t feel as “important” or intimidating as sitting down to stare at a blank computer screen or paper!

Find a beta reader/share with friends. I haven’t done this myself because I’m a PUSSY and still kinda scared to share my stories with people I know, but getting feedback from a semi-neutral third party can help improve your writing a ton! And also may be less scary than dropping your first fic to a whole online audience if you haven’t done it before !!

Follow whatever the fuck you feel inside at the moment and run. And run. And run. Seriously. I’ve heard this referred to as ‘pantsing’ (?), and it may not work for everyone, but I think some of my best stories came from a single dumbass idea (or even a line) that I let flow and grow and be whatever my brain wanted it to be. No planning or outlining. With ‘Cowboy Killers’ I just really, really, really wanted to use the line, “I’m gonna lay this motherfucker out” and have Reader throw a drink in Joel’s face, and that was it. No thoughts, just profanity and dumb, drunk antics. Don’t be afraid to start somewhere strange or random or really simple and build your story from there.

Speak your dialogue. Something that can be particularly tricky starting out is getting your dialogue to sound like real people are speaking it. You can have characters pontificating and waxing poetic all day long, but the truth is that most of us don’t talk in super long, flowery monologues. We use slang and sentence fragments and sometimes totally nonsensical sayings, and we struggle to find our words. Feature those things in your dialogue, and it should sound more natural, especially when you’re saying it out loud to yourself while you write.

I think this tip is from Stephen King (whose book on writing, cleverly titled On Writing, has some fantastic insight if you want more tips), but when it comes to picking an ending for your story, don’t go with the first one you think of. Odds are your reader is going to be thinking the same thing as you, and it’s nice to give them a little surprise if you can ;-)

There are SO many more pieces of advice you’ll glean over the years—just be patient with this process and with yourself and try to have fun with it!!! Alright shutting the fuck up now I hope this was helpful! Best of luck with your writing!!! 🫶🏼🩷🩷

[lululawrence]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love 💞

HIIIII omg I love whoever started this going around so much and THANK YOU for sending this to me!!! I also got this from @haztobegood and @allwaswell16 so thank you to ALL OF YOU really! I love love love this kinda thing and hope I haven't missed all of your lists... i'll have to be sure to look for those here soon hehe

Anyway, in no particular order, here are my fav fics I've written... (I think... lol favorites are HARD):

I'm Praying (that you don't burn out or fade away) - This was my big bang for this year and man it was a JOURNEY to write. I first came up with the idea as almost a crack fic idea back when I first was listening to Satellite... you know... when it was first released. lol I just didn't have the time or energy or anything to write it but I held onto the idea for ages and had it mostly brainstormed and everything! And then the time came to write it and... I couldn't find my notes. Anywhere. No idea what happened to the fic idea or my ramblings about it so I just did what I could with recreating it from memory and I still didn't know where or how or when it would end exactly, I just knew their journey would be over when it was over, and they spoke to me. When their story was done, I knew. And I am still so fucking proud of how it turned out and @moon-sun-thyme made the most incredible and gorgeous art for it, truly. Just. Probably gonna forever be one of my favorite fics I've ever written.

What I Have With You (I don't want with anyone else) - ohhhhhhh THIS FIC OKAY. It's my aspec alpha babies fic. I wrote it as a collaboration with @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed for @1dreversebang a few years ago now and it is still so special to me. I got to really delve into the aspec identities by embodying both Louis and Harry with one of those identities (aro Harry, ace Louis) and then added some non-traditional omegaverse dynamics (alpha/alpha) AND one of my all time favorite tropes, FAKE DATING! It was also a journey to write this fic and I worked so hard to make sure I really felt like I was doing justice to our identities and trying to give good and valid and understandable representation to them, and I really think I was able to achieve that. Some of the comments have been the most thoughtful and humbling and just beautiful I've ever gotten as well, which is just the cherry on top, right? So yeah, this baby defo gets to be on this list for sure hehe

You Don't Care About Me (One More Night) - This fic is one of those instances where you write what you want to read, you know what I mean? I had been craving a fic like this one, and I'd read some similar ones but I wanted MORE. The more I thought about it, the more the idea shaped up, and before I knew it I had (I wish I was joking) something like SIX PAGES of brainstorming with the timing laid out and what would happen when to make sure it was slow burn enough but also character development at the right pace and also just... everything I wanted, you know? I've never outlined a fic to that level before and I probably never will again, but after outlining it like that, I then went and wrote this fic, which was the longest fic I'd ever written to that point, in less than a month. It just flowed from me every time I sat down at my computer. It turned out exactly as I had hoped, and it is one of the few fics of mine that I have gone back to read repeatedly. I've not actually read it all the way through repeatedly, there's usually just bits and pieces I'm craving at the moment, but that's still far more than I generally do with my own fics. So I'll take it hehe

a moon, a rainbow, and a carnation - Okay okay okay, there's a lot about this one that makes this one something I'm super proud of, even though it feels ridiculous because it was a fic I wrote for this year's @wordplayfics, but there's a lot of reasons why I really am proud of it lol For one, I'm still new to writing Oscar and Pedro, and I love them SO much but I've only written them in one fic previously (and it isn't even out yet lololol) but!!! Its only the second fic I've ever written with a decent amount of Spanish in it. The lovely @nouies has been so kind as to cheerlead me about the pairings as well as help me with the Spanish, and we have had SO much fun omg. She helped me SO MUCH with this fic, and I so appreciate it and am so happy with how it was able to turn out because of her help! I also tried a new footnotes thing with the translations that turned out to work even better than I anticipated, and that just makes it even better, right? So yeah. I'm proud of it because I did all of that AND ALL WITHIN A WEEK. YASSSS

'Cause What I Want Came True - Okay so once again this one is one that Lou indulged me on because who doesn't love Diego Luna, hmm? lol but I was struggling with Wordplay again and suddenly I came upon a few quotes and an entire soft and hazy idea presented itself that I just HAD to write. It is almost semi-stream of consciousness while also not being quite that way, and I just really REALLY love how it turned out. I've actually already gone back and reread this one and the previous one on this list since publishing, and they've only been out for a week or two at this point. That's impressive and very rare for me. So yeah, quite proud.

I am missing some others that I would probably say are favorites, but you did limit me to five. lololol and These were the five I thought of off the top of my head haha so they will do for now hehe THANK YOU SO MUCH for asking and letting me ramble about my fics for a little bit!! sorry this got so looooong....

[runawaymun]

Heey, can I ask about Beneath bondless sky ? Do you have plans on updating or any wip you would be willing to share ? Absolutly no pressure tho, take all the time you need and all the best for you

<3 Heyy!

I wish I had something I liked and also wasn't spoilery that I could share, but the next five chapters of Boundless Sky are all in a jumble and also tie up the next second act of the fic, more or less. I recently reworked my outline and I'm hoping to start sinking my teeth into it in a significant way soon! I know I've been saying I'll get back to it for ages but, fingers crossed, these next few months are nothing but regular routine and work, FINALLY, so in theory I will have the brain space to get back to it.

Literally its been killing me that I haven't been able to work on anything except some silly Genshin Impact stuff. Like don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying the Genshin related things ofc ofc & Baizhu really is just Elrond a little to the left with green hair, but Partake and Boundless Sky are standing there in the back of my brain just begging for work, but they're so plotty that I haven't been able to make much progress other than sorting out my outlines for both of them (and believe me, considering that I'm hitting some intense plot development coming up in both fics it's driving me crazy that I can't get there. Both fics are approaching the scenes/plot points which the fic/at least this part of the fic have been building to since...forever. So lol. I want to read it just as badly as I think the rest of you do, but the problem is I have to WRITE it. Ah the Curse.)

Well, Boundless Sky I only have outlined until the end of Act II + Interlude chapters. Partake I outlined all the way to the end of the fic but that fic tends to be a Plague(tm) when it comes to veering from my plans. But at least that's something lol.

Thank you for the ask!! <3 <3 <3

[wordsofasarcast]

It’s your gal sophie here, and I come bearing a sorta long ask. I’m going to pack a lot of things into this so it might feel a bit rambly-

Firstly, CONGRATULATIONS ON THE NOMINATIONS!!!!

You deserve it, really. The amount of time and thought you put into your fics is absolutely unfathomable, and updates literally make my whole week. 

Secondly, the latest Dolce chapter has me literally spiraling, I’m so excited for the next one! (take your time btw, there’s still a good two weeks until I start rereading and making theories about what happens next)

(You’re really dropping chapters like Nico drops surprise songs tho)

I also went through your ENTIRE tumblr just now, so here are a few observations I had.

You’ve said that in the Dolceverse Silena is a singer/songwriter under the name VALENTINA. I don’t think you’ve mentioned it in Dolce, so I was thinking that you could just plop that name in there sometime.

The song ‘Free Now’ by Gracie Abrams was suggested for Will on JULY TWELFTH. It’s been half a year, and just now it’s been mentioned in Chapter 43. I would’ve forgotten it at this point

Your first post was on June 27, 2024. It’s been half a year-ish.

Lastly, I have a request. The two chapters of ‘stars, hide your fires’ that have been released are pretty lengthy, and I’ve had to read both chapters over the course of a couple days to finish them. (Still working on the second one.) Could you possibly make them shorter? I know they aren’t always going to be this length, but right now it’s really hard to start them because of the rather intimidating word count. 

Love your works, love your writing, and love your personality. Mwah<333

P.S. I know I sound like a stalker, I PROMISE I'M NOT, I’m just really invested. Plus pls excuse me for any weird grammar, I am writing this at one AM.

Hi Sophie!

First off, I love rambles—they are so fun to read and answer. Here's a ramble in exchange :)

I'm still in shock over just how many nominations I got, especially the Author of the Year nomination in my first year of posting fics! LIKE WHAT?!! Whatever the results, I'm super proud and very grateful to everyone who votes <3

The latest Dolce chapter marks the beginning of the very last act of Dolce and that is such a bittersweet feeling. (Also, I smile every time I see your rereading comments, I think you've read Dolce more than I have at this point!)

I don't mind a bit of good natured tumblr stalking, though it might expose how frequently I've pushed back chapter releases lol. Anyway...

Good pick up! So Silena (or VALENTINA) actually had a fairly big part in the secondary storyline for Dolce Dissonance that I decided to cut. So, she won't appear and there is a reason why I've chosen not to mention her at all. I do still have plans for her in the Dolce universe though (eventually).

Has it really been half a year?! That tells you how long Free Now has been sitting in my chapter outline waiting for the latest chapter to be written. Shout out to @solitaire-addict for the great song rec! <3

I started posting my fics on April 20th, 2024 which feels like SUCH a long time ago but really it hasn't even been a full year. And then it took me a few more months to get on tumblr, but I'm so glad I did, I think answering asks might be one of my fav things.

And lucky last: 'stars, hide your fires'. The chapters are intimidating to write, too. But I've been wanting to challenge myself to write a long-chaptered fic for a while now, and Stars felt like the perfect opportunity since its very action heavy. So TLDR, they're kind of intentionally long? Future chapters will continue to average around 10K. This won't the case for all my future fics, I will continue to have a little mix of everything to suit different readers. If you'd like I could post a version of Stars that splits each chapter into 3-4 shorter chapters over on my wattpad? Would that make it less intimidating? Let me know...

Also sorry in advance for when you finish Stars Chapter 2 :) Thank you for the ask and of course, for reading along x

More stories to come,

~ Sarc

[moodymisty]

Hi ! Hope you're doing great and I hope you don't mind me sending a new request 😊

I was wondering if you could, maybe, write a second part for "Baby Fever Crosshair" where he tells the reader about it (with smut if possible)

Of course, if you don't want to, it's perfectly fine, no pressure. Have a great day/night ! ❤️

Part 1 (but can be self contained)

Author's Note: Ok, let's give this a shot! I hope you enjoy :3 I'm trying to work on making my nsfw fics less plotty, so here's like 90% smut lmao

'Happy ending' (as happy as Empire rule can be) AU where the Batch settles down on a nondescript planet. Is it Pabu? Maybe. Maybe not. Up to you. Doesn't really matter too much this is all smut anyways XD

Summary: Crosshair admits one night he wants a kid. You do too.

Relationships: Crosshair/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Breeding kink, Pregnancy and such related things so Tokophobia warning, Creampies, PWP, Basically just cheap dirtiness

I want to have a kid.

It felt like only seconds ago Crosshair broken the silence of your small bedroom with those four words, making you stop in your tracks as you reached for the light switch.

It wasn't something you'd expected from him. Sure the two of you had been talking a bit about your future as of late, together, but the topic of kids hadn't really come up directly. It was never out of the question, however.

You also don't know why he chose to say it that way so out of the blue; Maybe he had been holding it in for awhile, and was sick of trying to wait for a perfect moment to finally breach the subject.

But why wait for a perfect moment, when you can just make one. You have all the time in the galaxy to do so now, with the Empire off your backs. The both of you can now actually consider making a family, instead of just fantasizing.

Crosshair's lips hungrily capture yours for what seems like the millionth time, feeling like they're going to bruise with the way he so roughly and hungrily kisses you. It's like he's desperate, wanting to nearly devour you. His breath comes out in harsh pants and mixes with your own, until it's almost the only thing you can hear.

You'd barely had the chance to mumble an enthusiastic yes to his proposal before he was on you, holding your hips and pulling them to his front like he'd been holding back the declaration for months. You could feel the outline of his cock against your thigh, already hard as he nearly started tearing your clothes off of you. You had to fight him with it, to get them off before he either abandoned them, or ruined them.

But with the way he'd thrown you onto the bed, you swear if it hadn't been less than two meters away from the damn thing, he might've just fucked you right where you'd been standing.

And with the way he's making your body feel, you know your knees would've buckled underneath your own body weight and send you to the floor, and him on top of you.

Your thighs are soaked; He's had his fingers last knuckle deep in your cunt for what feels like ages, and the lascivious sounds his hand makes as he presses the palm of his hand against your clit makes your face boil.

You've lost track of time, the room feels hot and stuffy and your thighs ache as your muscles tighten, but Crosshair pushes down on one knee to force them to stay apart. You've haven't had enough of him, but gods have you had enough of him tormenting you like this. Throwing your head back against the pillow you yell at him towards the ceiling, back arching upward as your body writhes underneath him. Your clit throbs, as your heels dig into the mattress.

"Gods, Crosshair- Just fuck me already!"

You don't want him to take his time; You want him to absolutely fuck your brains out, make it so you can't walk tomorrow and that his cum leaks down your thighs. That was the whole goal of this, after all. You want to feel this in the morning so that in some sort of odd way, you think there's a better chance.

He's naked from the waist up, his body glove rolled down to his hips. It'll one be one swift motion to take if all the way off, as his cock strains against the fabric. His lips pull away from yours, swollen and messy, his dark eyes looking right into yours. They're glossy; He's only got one thought in mind and it's the same as your own.

"I was gettin' there, Doll."

Your response is almost instant; Pulling your bottom lip from between your teeth just to do so.

"You don't get to spring yourself on me like that and then play the 'patience' card, Cross."

Your voice is strained but you hold your ground on it, except when you whimper as he finally moves his hands to the rolled edges of his body glove and removes it. He kicks it off, going somewhere off into the void around the room.

You can see the soft sheen of precum on the tip of his cock that aches for relief, until he grabs your hips and yanks you close. You gasp, and quickly Crosshair grinds his cock between your folds and against your clit, coating himself in all of the wetness he'd been pulling from you for what's felt like hours. Your cunt clenches around nothing just yearning for anything, now that his fingers are gone. It's such a primal want that has you trying to move closer to him, even if it's almost impossible to get anymore so.

Once the head of his cock teases and prods at your entrance for a moment, stretching just enough to make you moan before his grinding makes it slip upward and away. It only happens just once as the next time he quickly pushes his cock entirely into you, teeth gritting as he swears between them.

"Kriff, you're so warm..."

He wants to drag this out, but realistically he knows he probably won't be able to. And neither will you. Each and every time he opens his eyes he keeps imaging all those things that had been eating at his mind ever since this started plaguing him; Seeing you a swollen belly, knowing he's the reason. Sometimes he sees you on top of him, riding him on his lap as he grasps at your hips.

And it's going to happen, if it's the last thing he does. He's more than patient; and he'll keep fucking you and fucking you until it finally sticks.

"I can't wait to fill up this pussy of yours."

You can't wait either.

He puts your ankles on his shoulders, leaning down enough so that your knees try to press back against your own body. It makes it so he can drive his cock even deeper into you; So much so that it feels like he's going to hit your spine.

"Kriff," It's almost like he looses track of what he was going to say, or he got distracted for a moment. "Kriff you look so hot like this."

Your hands grasp and claw at anything within reach, but with nothing else to grasp onto there's little to keep you steady. It's hard to not let your eyes flutter closed and stay that way, looking up to see the way Crosshair's neck is tight and you can see the knot in his throat bob as he swallows.

He drives his cock deep into you, hips pressing against the back of your thighs and it's enough to bring you half way to cumming again. Your body was already so pliable and sensitive, his rough hands grasping at your body and slamming his hips into yours is enough to make you see white. It's not even as if Crosshair spent so long teasing you until you cried; There's just something in the air.

"You don't even have to say anything; I know you're begging for it."

You were moments ago and you are now; Your hands grip the blankets atop the bed and underneath you like you're going to tear right through them, holding on for all it's worth as Crosshair drives you into, and what feels like through, the mattress.

Your toes curl and knees bend, surely they'd have buckled by now if you were standing, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip so hard it feels like it's going to bleed. Or maybe it already is.

"Cross, s-slow down I'm gonna-"

You suddenly cum around him, gasping out in the hot air, Crosshair continuing to fuck you through it to the point that you swear you see white.

"Kriff, you're so tight-" His voice is wavering, hips barely able to keep and even pace as he fucks you. His nearly hisses those words out through clenched teeth, his hips slowing. It feels so hot in the bubble both of you exist in, Crosshair's hands grip you so tight that you'd probably be unable to get from their grip,even if you'd wanted.

That would be the absolute last thing you'd want; You're pretty sure you wouldn't care if a groundquake hit, as he pulls out barely a third of the way, slowly fucking you deeply as he finishes inside of you. You hear his groan and the myriad of swears under his breath, his hands loosening their grip. Instead of vices they drift along your skin now, brushing over the little dents he'd left.

Especially as he slows down, finally to a full stop as he attempts to catch his breath from the aftermath. He lets your legs fall off of his shoulders, falling to the mattress and bouncing once as they lay limp with the rest of your body. It's been a bit since he last kissed you, and he leans down to steal a single one as he pulls his cock slowly from you, and you feel the ache of your battered pussy even more than before.

Cum leaks out of you as it overflows, a feeling is odd, and but now. satisfying. You suddenly gasp however as Crosshair's touch suddenly returns, dragging two fingers up your cunt he catches any of it that leaked out and pushes it back in, listening to your whine as the motions tease your already battered and overstimulated nerves.

"Don't waste it."

You don't have too much say in that matter, but it's not as if he can't just fuck you all over again in a bit once your heart stops racing. Using one of his hands to support himself while the other touches his forehead, he leans away from your body a bit, looking down on you. You glance down at the way his lean stomach perfectly tapers to his hips and downward further, accentuated perfectly by the angle. You hope he knows how fucking good he looks sometimes.

Crosshair brushes a hand over the top of his head, unawares of your gawking. He still keeps his hair very short, but it's been growing a little bit longer as of late, enough to see some actual volume rather than the old GAR regulated, though for the 99's more like suggested, clone cut.

"Do you think they'd notice if we just, never moved from here tomorrow and didn't show up?"

You were supposed to meet up with the rest of the Batch tomorrow, but it's already so late and being honest, the both of you have other things on the mind. Crosshair looks down at you, his eyebrows raising slightly; But there's a look in his eyes that more than gives away that he's considering it.

Why not just make sure.

Join the taglist here: @simp-legend @nekotaetae @chad-something @coffeyorky @merkitty49 @lokigirlszendaya @totesnothere04 @get-wr3ckered @rebel-finn @mandoloriancookie @therealnekomari @loverofclones @notthatfanfictionwriter @lucyysthings @jennrosefx @fxlsealarm @crosshairs-wife @sinfulsalutations @Rennyboo9 @pb-jellybeans @jediknightjana @coraex

[starmapz]

Your writing is amazing. I'm in love with the college! sukuna series you're working on! Can I ask how you got into writing/how your writing process goes? I really wanna get into writing but I struggle with outlining plots and just like to write and make up the story as it comes to my mind 😭🫶🏽

hiiiii love!! this is so sweet thank you sm <33 i'm so glad to hear you're loving college!kuna because i'm loving writing for it 🥹

you are absolutely more than welcome to ask! so i've been writing for about 12 years now but haven't published anything until recently but i've always enjoyed it. i don't think i ever finished any of my pieces until recently either bc i struggled with outlines and completing things.

i think what helped me the most personally to get past that blockade is that i got into writing for jjk specifically around the same time as a close friend got into writing for another fandom so we beta one another's work and bounce ideas past each other as well, bless her

as for my process itself, i think i actually have a fairly messy process tbh? most of my inspiration comes from music but the majority of fleshing out those ideas comes from the fact that i daydream more than the average person probably should LOL. my mind is just constantly writing the next scene.

i also physically can't write scenes in advance bc if i do i won't write the scenes i'm less inspired for that come before what i've already gotten down, so i write in the order that you all are reading it. i do have notes/planning docs with basic outlines of what i'd like in each chapter but it's genuinely just the word vomit i've sent to my beta reader. it's messy and totally not concrete and i don't stick by it if i feel what i've got planned isn't/won't work.

another thing that i find works well for me is that i actually really enjoy the editing process so if i'm not fully happy with a scene but i'm having a bit of a block, i'll move along if it's at least complete enough to call it 'done', then go back during editing once i've had some time to think it over. i know a lot of people don't like editing, so this may not work for everyone, but taking a step back and thinking things over can always be a good strategy.

my best pieces of advice would be these: - just start writing and see what happens, bc honestly even my work from like 8 months ago or so when i first started this blog i sometimes read again and i can see my improvement and it makes me proud of where i've come from. - if you have an idea, even if it's the middle of the night, open your phone and jot down a note. it's saved so many of my ideas from disappearing into nothing. - read lots! i think the fact that i read a lot of fics alongside writing them has helped me improve as well, bc i try to learn new words/styles from other writers. i find my older writing used to be a lot more rigid, like i wasn't willing to use capitals or multiple exclamation marks to signify yelling, but at the end of the day i realized i like when others do that, so why shouldn't i? i enjoy more casual prose as it feels more realistic at times, so i've adapted that into my writing as well. by knowing what you like to read, you can figure out more how you like to write. - lastly, don't overthink things! remember, if you enjoy what you wrote, others will too. write for yourself and do what you love :)

tysm for all the love, i hope this helps even a little bit <33 sorry for the word vomit LOL and i hope you have a great day/night bb!

[sessakag]

Hi! I'm really curious about your writing process because you're writing so many stories simultaneously which i think is really impressive. 💖 Do you already know what's gonna happen in the story such as the ending? Do you outline the plot before starting a story or is the plot decided as the story goes? Do you also forget what happened in the previous chapters so as that you have to reread them before writing the next chapter?

My writing process can be summed up in one word: chaos.

Absolute chaos, no joke. I am always all over the place, bouncing from one fic to another, files everywhere, folders everywhere, docs everywhere, like omg, its so disorganized on my side of the fic but its like a disorganization I can navigate quite easily most of the time😅and yes, I write a lot of stories simultaneously, but its on a bigger scale than folks see, lol. I've been working on 8 unpublished stories at once alongside Prey and Butterfly for the last month or so🤔my brain is just always going, and it switches from one thing to other, sometimes within minutes, sometimes days, sometimes hours, and then I get super fixated on whatever has my attention at the moment and the words just come pouring out of my brain😅I do take breaks when my hands and wrist start to ache, though that only makes me think of more stuff to write about.

I usually have a very clear vision for my fics, they're like movies or tv shows that I live through and experience inside my head, but the majority of the decisions on how to get to point A to B are made on the fly and I do not constrain myself if the story takes me somewhere other than the "clear vision" lol. I'm allergic to following guidelines. I just can't write like that, I have to like, feel the story as I write and if I can't experience the feeling of it then I go a different route, planned or not. it's hard to explain it without sounding like a crazy lady😅but yeah, I'm all feels and instinct with my stories, not much deliberate structure, though I have tried that before, and I was bored to tears and started dreading writing. Prey is a prime example of this. I planned on writing it one way, Prey!Naruto told me no🤭

I know how just about every single one of my fics are going to end already. I may not know how I'll get there, or what will happen in between, but I do know for a fact how they will conclude(unless the story demands a different end, but it's not likely to happen I don't think). I've already written the end for Butterfly, Monster, A Cure For Love, Prey, Dirty Little Secret, most of my unpublished fics and partially finished Secrets but I'm iffy on that one since I'm torn in two directions on how to conclude it. Once I get to the sequel I should have a better feel for it. But yeah, the end of these stories are already ready, they're just waiting for me to get there😂probably one of the reasons why I linger so much on fics so much🤔I already know they end and wanna have fun until the party's over🤭

I do forget things sometimes and need to re-read my stories, though for the most part, my fics are like movies I've seen a million times and I remember them just fine. I mostly re-read to pick up the momentum I had before I left, or to "get back in character" with the characters in the fic. Like if I've been writing Prey for an extended period of time, and then want to go to a fic where Naruto is more in line with his canon self, I'll have to re-read the story to put that hat back on, or listen to music that's less idgaf trap rap and more Naruto OST🤭but forgetting what happened in the previous chapters nah, not really. Not unless I'm having an episode or something, lol. Then Idk wtf is going on🤭

Anywho, hope this answered all your questions, but feel free to ask more!

[squarebracketsmileyface]

The gender exploration fic officially has a name now :D

It's gonna be "My Girl, My Girl, My Girl (You Will Be)" because Tim's Girl, Jay Will/could Be (eventually, they're working towards it slowly 💀) or just MGx3 (cos MG times 3 lol) for short because that's a bit of a long name and I really can't be bothered to write it out a bunch of times all the time but yay :D

I'm planning out the plot outline and chapters at the moment, which is going vaguely well, tho I'm trying to keep some kinda storyline behind it as well as it just showing what Tim and Jay get up to in their free time through August to December (cough cough their sex life through that time period). Figuring out how to keep the MH side of the story rolling is a bit tricky, because looking at the actual, irl entries, not a lot actually happens in those four months 💀

Like, Tim and Jay fight over that tape and stop working together. Jay tries to attack Tim in his home and gets ziptied. Tim goes to Benedict hall and hoody helps Jay escape. Jay goes to Benedict hall. And then it's entry 80 and Jay's dying.

Like. So little happens across all the entries uploaded, but I don't want to give them much less time and just have it that the entries were uploaded really spaced apart after the events in them happened all at once, because I wanna write a whole bunch of smut for them lol. I gotta give Jam an excuse to not just go straight to Benedict hall pretty much immediately, because like, currently? What's stopping them? Literally nothing. They could go there halfway through August and still be as well prepared for it as they were in actual MH.

They probably did go earlier than the entries were posted in irl MH didn't they lol. But I need them to have those four months to be all happy couple together, I need itttttttttttt. I also need them to have those four months so Tim can learn a bit about IIAB and knock some sense into Jay's dumb little "woe is me I am nothing but the victim" brain and set him on the road to realising that what he did was very not okay even if he genuinely thought he was in the right/doing that Alex wanted him to do even at the sacrifice of his own comfort.

COS THAT'S A THING TOO, so much of Jay's pushiness and all that in IIAB came from a place of him genuinely thinking he was doing something for Alex rather than subjecting him to it.

It feels like such a fine balance to make sure Jay isn't irredeemable. He's not malicious with anything, he's just scared of losing people by not giving them what they want, and scared of not knowing what to do to not lose someone new.

Was it stupid for him to try the choking thing with Tim when the first time he tried it caused the breakdown of his and Alex's fwb relationship? Yes. It was so fucking stupid. But Jay was scared and hey either it was going to be fine, or it'd drive Tim away rather than letting him be the one to leave and Jay was still rather in the mindset of thinking Tim would leave him at some point and he couldn't stand the thought of that. It'd be much less painful if he drove Tim away.

He still kinda thinks that honestly.

Doing that kinda thing to get what he wanted from Alex had worked and been 'fine' every time up until Jay actually put himself in harms way with it. So like, he didn't exactly put two and two together while he was freaking out a bit with Tim.

Also with how it went with Alex that last time, Jay was still vehemently ignoring that he was even somewhat at fault for that fwb relationship ending. Sure he knew he'd done something wrong, but he refused to figure out exactly what and actually think about what that meant for himself. Alex never told him what he did so it was a lot easier to blame Alex and hate him rather than actually look at himself and his actions. It was also easier to think of it more as Amy taking Alex away from him, or poisoning Alex against him than to think that he was actually the reason for Alex finally telling him to fuck off.

No one wants to think they've done that. No one wants to think maybe they pushed for something someone doesn't want to do a little too hard, and really really hurt that person who they care about deeply.

Then there's the whole thing that a lot of what Jay did in uni, he also wasn't super comfy with? He was just so completely convinced it was what Alex wanted because of all their previous interactions. Then he got it so in his head that when Alex said he *didn't* Jay just couldn't wrap his head around it and assumed Alex was making *himself* uncomfy in order to try and cater to Jay's crush on him, and Jay much preferred being uncomfortable himself than making Alex uncomfortable.

And that's what he saw it as. He saw it as him sacrificing his own comfort for Alex's a lot of the time. Like, yes. He enjoyed the rougher sex and all that and they had a lot of times that I haven't actually specifically written where they just had fun with it and enjoyed it a hell of a lot. Most of their uni relationship wasn't bad. Most of their uni relationship was just kinda fine. Not great, neither of them were completely happy with it, but it wasn't the level of toxic that it could be all the time.