#i just haven’t posted any parts with him in them yet
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headfullof-ideas · 3 months ago
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Some headcanons of the Nektons family that I’ve been meaning to finish up, and finally got around to! I posted them to Ao3 as well, if anyone’s there as well. I usually post headcanons of a certain character by themself, but i couldn’t think of enough for a whole set, so there’s some of the whole family here, and some of the characters individually.
- After everything with the Monumentials is dealt with, Ant gets a tuxedo cat he affectionately names Buttons. Buttons is mostly black, with two little white ‘buttons’ and ‘gloves’, and she’s the sweetest cat ever. Ant insists that Buttons formal occupation as an ESA is entirely coincidental
- Kaiko played Dungeons and Dragons a bit as a kid and in college, but never found a group who wanted to play seriously. She still has all her old books, character sheets, and dice in a box in her and Will’s closet
- When Kaiko and Will were introducing each other to their parents, Kaiko’s parents were initially on the fence about Will. Meanwhile, Kathryn and Jacques immediately fell in love with Kaiko
- Kaiko had about a dozen different ‘pets’ growing up, some that were animals that her family were taking care of before they were released back to the wild. She was also the owner of a number of failed fosters
- Ant and Fontaine were both child leash toddlers. Fontaine grew out of needing it, but Ant would find new ways to slip out of his leash without either parent noticing
- Ant keeps forgetting that his name is actually ‘Antaeus’ because of how long he’s been going by ‘Ant’. When he does occasionally remember or get called Antaeus casually, he sits in silence for a few minutes having an existential crisis over it
- Ant and Kaiko both brush off minor illnesses like they’re nothing more than minor inconveniences. They do the same with injuries. When it becomes too much though, they both get super clingy and needy
- Will was an Egyptology kid, with the shiny gold book and all. He was also a magpie as a kid, attracted to all the shiny doo-dads and bobbles he’d find
- Ant wanted to be a Marine Biologist as a kid because of his mom and how much he loved the ocean, but as he got older he started leaning in a different direction with other animals as well. Eventually he landed on being an Animal Behaviorist
- Fontaine does NOT like snakes. At all. They gross her out so much
- Hide and seek is banned on the Aronnax, because the game takes way too long with how many hiding places there are on the submarine. Repeated incidents involving pingers as cheating, with all family members guilty of it, is another reason
- The World Oceans Authorities never stopped trying to rehire Kaiko after she left. When Ant grows up and starts looking for a job, they make it their mission to hire him. Ant makes a point to say no in the most elaborate way possible each time. Pyrosome cries herself to sleep about it sometimes
- After at least half of their late night missions, the family don’t even make it to their own bedrooms to sleep. Crashing in the Moon Pool happens often enough they store blankets and pillows in a closet
- There’s a board of ‘how many missions so and so has gone without needlessly risking their life’ in the lab. Ant has never made it to the double digits. Kaiko and Will are only slightly better. Fontaine is the only one who has made it relatively close to triple digits, and she feels ashamed every time she has to restart her clock
- Kaiko keeps a wall of shame and fame for all the animals she treats as a Marine Biologist, with their crimes listed beneath their photo. If she’s really annoyed with one of her family members, their photo makes it to the wall until they stop annoying her
- Kaiko and Will put child locks on Wills study when Ant and Fontaine were toddlers, and Kaiko has multiple videos of Will struggling to open his own safes and shelves during that time frame. Sometimes if she feels he’s spending too much time in the study, she’ll put them back on
- Ant and Fontaine had bells put on them when they first started being mobile as babies, as both would crawl off when their parents backs were turned for one second, and Kaiko and Will would have to madly dash through the Aronnax, listening for the jingling of a bell to find their baby
- Ant tried out Speech and Debate in high school, and was surprisingly really good at it. Kaiko was really proud
- Fontaine seems to make new friends almost everywhere the family goes, and she’s really good at remembering the names of all the people she meets
- Fontaine is really good at remembering specific dates, and here calendar is packed full of all sorts of important dates and events
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wafflefries13 · 13 days ago
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Asking Out the Twisted Wonderland Cast (Multi TWST cast X Reader)
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Summary: Sometimes, you can't just wait for good things to happen to you. Time to screw your courage to the sticking place and finally ask out that boy you like!
AN: I meant for these each to be like 200 word drabbles. Some of them kind of got away from me, lol.
Cross-posted on my AO3 TheGhostInTheKitchen
Warnings: Fluff, AFAB reader with she/her pronouns.
Part 2: First Dates
The sounds of the NRC cafeteria clattered around the group of first years. Utensils scraping on plates, sizzling from the open window to the kitchen, a hundred different conversations from all sides. Their small group sat clustered around their table, nestled close together to be heard over the general din. 
“I’m just saying,” Ace said, mouth half full. 
“You’re always ‘just saying’,” Deuce said. 
Ace shoved him. “I’m just saying, if you want to try out for the anchor position on the track team you have to actually ask for it. Get Coach Vargas and don’t stop bugging him until he sees what you can do! No one’s going to just wait for it to happen.” 
“And I’m saying it doesn't do any good to be a nuisance when I don’t even know if I’m good enough yet. I might as well wait till tryouts next semester.” 
“No, no, he’s right,” (Y/N) said, distantly. 
“Yeah!” Ace said. “Wait, right about what?” 
“You can’t just wait for stuff to happen to you. If you really want something you have to go and take it for yourself.” She stood abruptly, face determined. “I need to ask something.” 
Ace:
“Ace!” 
Ace jumped, brushing off crumbs from his jacket. “What? What did I do now?” 
“Do you want to go out with me?” 
Epel choked, Jack thumping him on the back. Deuce looked like she had just insulted his mother. Sebek rolled his eyes as he took another bite. Ortho gasped, leaning forward, eyes wide and excited. 
“I-What?” Ace stuttered, his face rapidly turning red. “Where the heck did that come from?” 
“You were just saying you shouldn’t wait for something you want. I like you, I have for a while now. So, do you want to go out?” 
Ace stuttered out a reply, slapping on his normal cocky smile but decidedly not meeting (Y/N)’s eyes. “I mean, yeah, of course you fell for me! It’s about time you said something. But, um, yeah, I’d like that. A lot.” 
“Well,” Deuce said, rolling his eyes. “It’s about time one of you said something.” 
“Hey!” Ace shouted. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
(Y/N) playfully shoved him. “Oh, please, don’t act like I haven’t noticed that you like me too. You’re not subtle about it.” 
“What made you think that?” 
“Ace, within the first week of me being here you asked to sleep in the same bed as me twice.” 
From another table, definitely not eavesdropping, Riddle fainted. 
Deuce:
“Deuce!” Deuce jumped at (Y/N) suddenly shouting his name. “I need your help with something. Can you come with me for a second?” 
“Oh, yeah, sure, of course.” Deuce ignored Ace’s pointed look. Deuce followed (Y/N) out of the cafeteria down the halls. “Where are we going?” 
(Y/N) suddenly turned around, Deuce almost colliding with her. Before he could apologize, she took his hands, looking up into his eyes as he felt blood rush to his cheeks. 
“I just wanted somewhere more private,” She said. “Deuce, I really like you. Will you go out with me?” 
“I-huh?! I mean, yeah, yes! I like you, too!” He rubbed the back of his head and looked away shyly. “Man, I wanted to ask you out first.” 
(Y/N) grinned. “Really? How were you going to do it?” 
“Well, my mom said that when my dad first asked her out he got her this big bouquet of flowers. But he ended up being allergic to them so he kept sneezing the whole time. She took him to the infirmary at their school and he had to write it down since his face was too swollen to talk.” 
“Well, I wouldn’t say no to flowers. Maybe we can skip the rest of that, though.” 
Deuce marched over to the cut out window of the hallway, opening out onto the quad. Reaching over, he plucked a fluffy pink peony from one of the bushes. He came back to (Y/N), suddenly very flustered, and held it out to her. 
“(Y/N),” He began. 
She clasped her hands together. “Yes?” 
“Would you do me the honor of - Ah!” Deuce yelped as a bee flew out of the peony blossom, shooting for Deuce’s face to sting him. 
Turns out, they did spend time in the infirmary. But, after (Y/N) kissed his cheek and gently held the flower, Deuce didn’t seem to mind too much. 
Trey: 
“Ow!” 
Trey paused outside the Heartslabyul kitchen as he heard the exclamation from inside. He was planning on testing out a new bread recipe his parents had sent him and wasn’t expecting anyone else to be using the kitchen that day. He peaked in, seeing (Y/N), Grim, Ace, and Deuce crowded around the island in the middle. (Y/N) was blowing on a burn on her hand, Grim rifling through the pantry for various sweets, and Ace and Deuce waving away smoke from a burnt pastry freshly pulled from the oven. 
“I told you!” (Y/N) said. “You can’t just raise the temperature for it to cook faster, it’ll just burn!” 
“Well, sorry for trying to make your confession go faster before you chicken out,” Ace said. 
“I’m not going to chicken out! Probably. Maybe. What if the pie burning is an omen?” 
“I wouldn’t read too deeply into it,” Trey said, entering the kitchen. The first years jumped, (Y/N)’s eyes going wide and she stared at the floor. 
“Well!” Deuce said, grabbing Ace and Grim and hurrying them out the door. “Omen or not, that’s our cue to leave. Good luck, (Y/N)!” 
Silence echoed around the two of them as the door of the kitchen thunked closed. (Y/N) fiddled with her fingers, still not looking up. Trey walked around the island, looking at the smoldering pie. There was a mostly neat lattice across the bubbling fruit, with extra crust cut into letters around the rim. 
“‘Trey,’” He read. “‘Will you-’”
“Ah! No, wait!” (Y/N) jumped forward, covering it with her hands. She jumped back as her palm accidentally hit the hot pie tin, giving her another burn. 
“Oh, wait, hang on.” Trey quickly went over to the sink, grabbing a clean towel and soaking it in cold water. He gently took her hand, pressing it to the burn. (Y/N) chewed her lip. “You know, I’d be happy to help if you want to try again. I’ve been wanting to try this new butter pie crust that’s good with custards and-”
“I really like you!” (Y/N) blurted out, face going as hot as the burn on her hand. “Would you want to go out with me? Please?” 
Trey tightened his grip on her hand, careful to avoid the injury. He smiled, laughing. “I was wondering if I should say it first. I guess you beat me to it. Yes, (Y/N), I’d love to go out with you.”  
Cater: 
Cater was relaxing in the Heartslabyul gardens, a can of red paint discarded beside him. He hummed something the pop music club had been working on as he scrolled through Magicam. He took a quick selfie, winking, tongue out with a peace sign, before refreshing his feed. 
He paused when he saw (Y/N) come across his dash. She was smiling brightly, one arm arched above her head and the other held down at an angle to create half a heart. The word ‘Will’ was written in bubbly cartoon letters in the middle. A few posts later, there was a second photo, an almost perfect mirror of the first to complete the heart. The word ‘You’ was written in the middle of this one. 
Cater almost felt like he was solving a puzzle as he searched the rest of his feed for more posts. Each had (Y/N) in a dramatic pose, adding another word to complete the sentence, ‘Go,’ ‘Out,’ ‘With’, ‘Me.’ When he realized it was a request to ask someone out, he couldn’t help but feel a little deflated. He shook his head. Of course (Y/N) would be crushing on someone. With all the adventures she had gone on during their time at NRC, it would make sense to develop strong feelings. He tried to quiet the voice in his head that hoped those strong feelings would go his way. Well, whatever, that just meant he had to keep a close eye on whoever had earned her affections, maybe give them a good threatening to treat her right while he was at it. 
Cater tapped on her name, taking him to her Magicam profile. It felt like just the other day when he was helping her set it up. He sighed at the happy memory. For a second, it occurred to him that the message (Y/N) had been spelling out in pictures didn’t end with a question mark. He thought it was weird. Was it a mistake? Then his eye caught on the latest picture, posted just a second before. 
It was a selfie of (Y/N) holding a large bouquet of yellow and orange flowers, marigolds, daisies, and buttercups. The majority of the frame was over her shoulder, showing Cater himself sitting against the hedges. His name was drawn in the same cartoon font with a question mark, surrounded by a heart.  
Cater snapped up, whirling around. He quickly whipped away the happy tears budding at the corner of his eyes as he saw (Y/N) waiting for him. The flowers were crushed between them as he scooped her up in a tight hug, both of them laughing. 
(They both carefully rearranged the flowers after to be presentable for the mandatory #TogetherForever couple photoshoot after.) 
Riddle: 
Riddle frowned at the commotion building from the Heartslabyul common room. He could make out the familiar rising sounds of Ace and Deuce’s voices. He began marching to the source of the racket, faltering a little when he heard (Y/N)’s voice joining in. Mentally scolding himself from eavesdropping  (it wasn’t eavesdropping, he was keeping tabs on his dorm mates, that’s it) he hovered near the cracked open door. 
“No, wait!” (Y/N) said. “We can’t use coral roses! I said pink!” 
Ace huffed. “What’s the difference?” 
(Y/N) tapped a small dark red book she was holding. “Coral roses symbolize desire, pink roses mean admiration and happiness. I’m not trying to scare him off before I can even ask him out!” 
Before he could even think about it, Riddle threw open the door, shouting, “Just what is going on here?” 
Everyone inside jumped. Riddle swept his eyes across the room, taking in the bundles and bundles of roses in multiple colors carefully poised on every surface. Ace and Deuce were meticulously balancing a bouquet in the chandelier, plucking out the offending coral colored roses. Cater was smirking in the corner, phone poised to capture everything. Trey chuckled behind his own large bouquet of yellow roses.. 
“Um,” She said, startled by his interruption. Taking a deep breath, she set the book down and picked up a bouquet of lavender roses, shoving them in Riddle’s direction. 
‘Lavender,’ He thought. ‘Love at first sight.’ 
“Riddle!” She said, probably a little too loudly. “I really like you! Would you go out with me?” 
The silence that followed was deafening. Cater tried to break the tension with a laugh. “Aww, (Y/N),” He said. “What happened to that whole speech you had?” 
“He surprised me!” She said. “Oh, wait, hang on, I still have it.” Without thinking, she shoved the bouquet in Riddle’s arms, searching her pockets to pull out a neatly folded piece of notebook paper. “Ahem. Riddle, I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past few months have been a torment. I came to Heartslabuyl with the single objective to see you. I-” 
“Everyone out!” Riddle shouted. As the group scuttled to the door, he pointed at (Y/N). “Not you.” 
The door thudded behind them, Ace and Deuce giving a quick thumbs up and what was supposed to be a confident smile as they left. (Y/N) crinkled the paper in her hands. 
“It gets better,” She said meekly. “The speech. Although I guess in the movie it ends with a rejection too. I should have used the one from the end, or Shakespeare maybe. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more - well, I guess you're not very temperate. Wait, let me try again.” 
“(Y/N),” He said. He held the lavender flowers tightly. “You know what this means?” 
“Oh, the flowers? Yeah, I, um, I’ve been studying.” She picked the book back up, shyly holding it up. Riddle could read the title now: The Queen of Hearts Guide to Courtship and Love. 
“You,” Riddle said, feeling his face heat up. He held up the flowers. “You mean it? Really?” 
(Y/N) took a step towards him, understanding softening the worry on her face. “Of course. I wanted to ask you out and I thought, well,” She waved at the multicolored roses, laughing. “Go big or go home, right?” 
“It certainly is a statement.” Riddle picked up a yellow rose with red tipping the petals and handed it to her. (Y/N) recognized the colors immediately as meaning ‘Falling in love.’ She gasped in happiness, jumping forward to wrap Riddle in a tight hug. 
Leona: 
“Ruggie!” Ruggie paused as he heard (Y/N) call his name. She jogged over to him where he held Leona’s typical boxed lunch order. “Hey, that’s for Leona, right? Do you mind if I bring it to him? There’s something important I have to talk to him about.” Ruggie considered it for a moment before shrugging and handing it over, but not before stealing a couple of chips to pop into his mouth as he strolled away. 
(Y/N) found Leona in his normal spot, a hidden alcove in the gardens in the biodome. He was laying on his back, arms crossed behind his head, and eyes closed as he dozed. He cracked his eye open as (Y/N) approached. 
“Hi,” She said, kneeling down beside him. 
“Hmm,” He replied. 
“I have something important to ask you.” 
“Are you going to try and make me get up?” “No.” 
“Alright, ask away.” 
“Will you go out with me?” 
Leona’s eyes snapped open. He pushed himself up on his elbows to stare at (Y/N), smiling sincerely at him, and maybe holding his lunch hostage until she got an answer. 
“I really like you,” She continued. “You’re brave and confident and know exactly who you are. Sure, you can be stubborn as hell, but you also really care about people close to you. Don’t make that face, you can’t fool me. You could have easily thrown me out when Grim and I needed someplace to stay when Azul took over Ramshackle, but you didn’t. You didn’t even kick us out when we were making so much noise and annoying you, you helped us break Azul’s contracts instead. You joined the Culinary Crucible because Epel did and you wanted to keep an eye on your team mate. Please, as if you ever need to learn how to cook, I know you can’t even use a microwave. And you pretend not to notice when Ruggie steals your credit card. And there was that time you followed all of us to Playful Land because you were worried we were going to get scammed. You didn’t have to do that, but you did. You’ve got a big heart of gold under that spiky exterior. And I really admire you for that. I… I really love you, Leona.” 
“Well,” Leona said, laying back down, tail flicking. “I suppose going on a date wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” (Y/N) decided not to point out the content smile stretching across his face. She made a move to stand up, but Leona shot an arm out to hook around her waist, pulling her down next to him with an “Oof.” “Now don’t tell anyone else about all that,” Leona grumbled without any real heat. 
Ruggie: 
Ruggie was in Leona’s room, folding laundry while the house warden took a nap behind him. Ruggie stretched his arms above his head, sighing when there was a satisfying pop in his back. Suddenly, the door to the room slammed open. Ruggie yelped and Leona woke with an undignified snort. 
“Gah, what now?” Leona mumbled. 
“Ruggie!” (Y/N) said, standing in the doorway. She was panting as if she had just run across campus (she had). 
“Uh, what? Yeah? Whatever it was, I didn’t take it!” 
Unperturbed, (Y/N) marched over to him, taking both his hands in hers. “You did take something.” Ruggie frantically tried to remember if he had stolen anything from Ramshackle recently. He tried not to, knowing (Y/N) was pretty much as broke as he was. It didn’t seem fair. And maybe he liked her a little too much to swipe something. “You stole my heart!” (Y/N) continued dramatically. “Will you go out with me?” 
Behind them, Leona coughed to unconvincingly cover up a laugh. 
Ruggie’s ears flattened to his head in shock. He reached back and batted at his tail as if that would get it to stop wagging. “I - what? Are you sure? Me? What?” 
“Of course! You’re resourceful, you work hard, you’re clever, and you care a lot about your family back home. I really admire all that about you and more! Not to mention you’re super cute. So, will you go out with me?” 
“Oh, just say yes already, Ruggie,” Leona said, settling down to continue his nap. “At least then I won’t have to hear you being such a sap all the time.” 
Ruggie let out his signature laugh. He tightened his grip on (Y/N)’s hands. “Well, sure then, why not? As long as you’re paying, right?” 
Jack: 
Jack and Vil were out on their daily morning run. The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting the Night Raven College campus in a warm golden light. At their halfway point, they took a break, Vil stretching in his cooldown. 
“You sure you don’t want to keep going with me?” Jack asked. 
“No,” Vil said. “I’d rather stay slim than bulk up like you. I have my status to maintain. And besides, it looks like I would be interrupting something rather important.” He smiled knowingly and pointed with his chin a little ways down the sidewalk. 
Jack turned. He felt his tail start to wag on its own when he saw (Y/N) standing by one of the Great Seven statues, drawing circles in the ground with her foot. She looked up, breaking out in a warm smile when she saw him. Vil chuckled under his breath and waved as he headed back to Pomfiore. 
Jack clenched his jaw, willing his tail to stay still as he approached her. “Good morning. You’re not usually up this early, right? Is everything okay?” 
(Y/N) jutted her arms out completely straight, offering up the flowering Chin cactus in her hands. “Jack!” She said. “I really like you. I love how brave you are. I love how you’re dedicated to the people you care about. I love how you can be sweet and kind even when you try to act tough all the time. Would you go out with me?” 
“Yes!” Jack replied, almost before the words had even left (Y/N)’s mouth. He put his hands over hers, cradling the cactus. “I mean, yes, I would like to go out with you. Very much.” 
Azul: 
Azul jumped as (Y/N) slammed her hands on his desk in the VIP room of the Monstro Lounge. He quickly gathered his composer, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Well, Prefect, to what do I owe the pleasure?” 
“I have a deal for you,” She said confidently. 
“Oh? I’d love to hear it.” 
Smiling, she whipped out a sheet of paper and slapped it on top of the other documents Azul had spread over his desk. On the top of the page in an elegant script were the words ‘Contract of First Date.’ Azul felt a lump form in his throat as his heart sped up. He quickly scanned over the rest of the ‘contract,’ outlining the proposed date. 
“Terms of the deal,” (Y/N) continued. “You, me, romantic night out. I know a guy in Craneport who said we could use one of their rowboats and I found this really cool pond with all these willow trees and fireflies. Plus I have this cute picnic basket all set up. Jamil has been teaching me how to cook, you know? Can’t say it’ll be as good as his, if we’re being honest about the terms of agreement. And the contract leaves an opening for future dates depending on the success of this one! Of course, success is not really a super definable term but you get what I mean. So, do we have a deal?” 
Azul covered his face with one hand, trying desperately to ignore how red his face must be at this point. He couldn’t seem to meet her enthusiastic and twinkling eyes. 
“I, uh,” (Y/N) continued, shyer this time as Azul scanned over the contract. “I really like you, Azul. A lot. So, will you go out with me?” 
He looked back down at the contract where her name was written in elegant script at the bottom with space for his next to it. He cleared his throat, bringing back his practiced (definitely not shady) businessman smile. With a sweep of his pen, he said, “It’s a deal.” 
Jade: 
(Y/N) marched across the cafeteria, determination in her eyes. She stopped in front of a table with Jade, Floyd, and Azul. “Hi!” She said, maybe a little too loudly with nerves. Jade and Azul looked up from their conversation, Floyd pausing his efforts in making a castle out of mashed potatoes. “Jade, I really like you. Do you want to go out with me?” 
“Oh?” Jade said, a brief moment of genuine surprise crossing his face before he schooled his features back into pleasant neutrality. “Well, what a pleasant surprise.” 
Floyd snorted and elbowed his brother. “Shrimpy’s got a crush,” He said in a sing-song voice. 
“I must admit,” Jade said, pouting with one hand on his cheek. “I always did imagine a more theatrical confession. Nonetheless, I happily acc-” 
“I can do that!” (Y/N) interrupted. Holding on to Floyd’s shoulder for balance, she climbed on top of the table. She clapped her hands loudly, shouting, “Attention! Attention, please, everyone! I have an announcement!” She cleared her throat as the room fell silent. “I would like to declare my unequivocal, utter devotion and love for Jade Leech.” She heard a choking sound below her but continued on. “I am hopelessly in love, helplessly enraptured, and absolutely head over heels. And it is my deepest hope that he could return my affections. Thank you.” With that, she hopped down, beaming. There was a smattering of applause and laughter from around the room. Epel whooped from back at the first year table. 
Jade’s hands covered his blushing face, fierce sharp eyes peeking out between his fingers. His mouth was split in a wide smile, sharp teeth glinting in a mixture of bashfulness, excitement, and desire. 
“Congratulations, (Y/N),” Azul said. “I can barely remember that last time Jade was actually flustered.” 
“Aww, look at him, he’s speechless!” Floyd teased. 
(Y/N) winced. “Sorry, was that too far?” 
Jade shot out with lightning speed, crushing her in his tight eel grip. “I should let you know,” He whispered to her. “I expect this level of dedication for the entirety of our relationship.” 
Floyd: 
Floyd darted through the stacks of the library. He could have sworn he saw Goldfish in here earlier, and he was in the mood to mess with the easily angered boy. And, while he didn’t find Riddle, he did pause as he saw (Y/N) between the books. He paused, pushing a few books aside to rest his chin on the shelf, an easy smile crossing his face as he spied on her. 
She was hunched over one of the study tables, a large book propped up and open in front of her. She was diligently working on something in her hands, tongue poking out between her lips (lips that Floyd found himself thinking about more often than he would admit), looking back up at the book in front of her every so often. 
Dropping down low, Floyd carefully made his way behind her, silent on his feet. Rising up to his full height behind her, unsuspecting, he jolted forward, wrapping her in a backward hug and pulling her back so the chair careened back on two legs. 
“Shrimpy!” He said, taking delight in her startled squeal. “Whatcha doin’?” 
“God, Floyd,” (Y/N) said, putting a hand to her chest to calm her raging heart. Her eyes suddenly went wide and she lunged forward to cover what she was working on with her arms. “Ah! Don’t look, don’t look! It’s not done!” 
Floyd grinned again. “Aww, it’s not nice to keep secrets.” His hands shot out, pulling out the thing she was hiding. (Y/N) covered her face as Floyd inspected the object. It was a thick piece of twine, various polished shells, sea glass, and dried shiny scales strung throughout. Although it wasn’t exactly neat, the way it caught the sunlight cast tiny rainbows and simmers around the library. Floyd peered at the open book. It was a cultural history of merpeople in the Coral Sea. The opened chapter described mer courting rituals and marriage traditions. Floyd started cackling as (Y/N) buried her face further in her hands.  
“How old is this thing?” Floyd asked, poking at the book. “I don’t even think my grandparents made courting charms.” 
“Shut up,” (Y/N) mumbled. “I was trying to… Forget it.” 
Floyd slipped the haphazard necklace over his neck, prying her hands away to hold them tightly in his. “I accept!” He said brightly. “This was for me, right? It better be, Shrimpy.” 
She smiled and flicked his forehead. “Possibly against my better judgment, I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else, Floyd.” 
Kalim: 
Kalim knew he should probably be studying, but every time he opened a text book or looked at the notes Jamil had oh-so-carefully marked and tabbed for him, he felt his eyes start to droop and mind get fuzzy. A good after lunch walk was just what he needed, and he definitely wasn’t just saying that to put off work. 
He stopped when he realized he had wandered outside Ramshackle dorm. Was that on purpose? Did he subconsciously come here, with the hope he might see (Y/N)? Kalim walked up to the front door, knocking before opening the door and calling inside. 
“Hello! It’s Kalim! Can I come in?” 
There was a squawk of surprise from the front sitting room. (Y/N) poked her head around the corner, flustered. 
“Hi. Sure, come on in. Uh, sorry, I’m kind of in the middle of something.” 
“Can I help?” Kalim asked, walking over to her. Peering into the sitting room, Kalim’s face lit up. Every available surface, and a few unavailable surfaces, were covered in colored and patterned paper. There were stacks and crowds of tiny paper birds littered between everything. 
“I don’t know if it counts if more people make them.” 
Kalim sat on one of the plush chairs, picking up a flowery piece of paper. “If what will count?” 
“It’s an old superstition from my world. If you can fold 1000 paper cranes, your wish will come true. Or something like that.” 
“Ooh, origami! I’ve made decorations using that before! I’m not super good at it, but I’ll help if you want.” 
(Y/N) smiled and sat next to him and Kalim felt his heart flip. “Yeah, I’d like the company.” 
They lost track of time folding cranes, the sun beginning to set high above the dilapidated house. They talked the whole time, jumping from topic to topic, joke to joke, without any real sense of flow. It was warm, there in the small room, not only due to the crackling fireplace. 
“So,” Kalim asked eventually. “What wish were you wanting to make? If this dosen’t work out, I can help you with it!” 
(Y/N) suddenly went bashful, turning away to pay extra attention to the folds of her bird. “I…” She muttered. She took a deep breath, turning to fully face Kalim. “I was going to ask you out. You have all these elaborate decorations and parties all the time. I was going to string all of these together and hang them in your room then ask you out. But, now that you’re here… Kalim, would you go out with me?” 
Kalim dropped the paper crane, flinging himself across the couch to wrap her in a tight hug. “Yes! Yes, yes yes! Oh, I would love to! Huh, I guess that means I need to cancel that order of doves now. That’s how I was going to ask you out next week. Hey, we both thought of birds! That must mean we definitely belong together, right?” 
Jamil: 
“Be right back,” (Y/N) said, standing from the first year cafeteria table. She walked across the cafeteria until she stopped in front of Kalim and Jamil. 
Jamil was shoving a napkin at Kalim. “Careful, you’re going to get sauce all over your shirt.” 
“It’s fine, I’ll be careful! And besides, it’s a pretty color, right? Oh, hey, (Y/N)!” 
“Hi,” She said, looking solely at Jamil. “Jamil, I really like you. Would you want to go out with me?” 
Kalim gasped, hands to his cheeks as he looked excitedly from Jamil to (Y/N). Jamil sucked in a sharp breath, clenching his hands. “I…” He started. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I can’t.” 
“Oh.” Jamil looked down, but not before he caught the hurt confusion on (Y/N) face. “That’s okay. Thanks for hearing me out. Bye, guys.” She walked back to her table. 
Jamil only looked up again when Kalim slapped his arm. “Jamil! That was your chance!” 
Jamil scowled. “There is no chance. I said no, she accepted it. Drop it.” 
“But you told me you liked her!” 
“I said no such thing.” 
Kalim waved his hand dismissively. “I read between the lines.” 
“There were no lines!” 
“Jamil.” He looked up at Kalim. It wasn’t often the other boy used such a serious voice, or had such a set expression on his face. “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep yourself from being happy because you feel like you don’t deserve it.” 
Jamil flinched back, standing suddenly. A million retorts zipped through this mind at once, all of them falling flat and dying on his tongue. Before he could say something he would regret, heart thundering in his ears, he fled the cafeteria, ignoring the stabbing looks from the first year table as (Y/N)’s friends gave her sympathetic pats on the back. 
Jamil couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, listening to the soft, even breathing of his roommate. Huffing in annoyance, he threw off the covers and left his room. He thought he would just take a walk, just get some fresh air. Without paying attention, Jamil’s feet took him out of Scarabia, across campus, and, before he knew it, in front of Ramshackle dorm. His fist hovered in front of the door, internally debating whether or not he should knock. He startled when he heard talking behind him, spotting (Y/N) and Malleus making their way up the pathway. 
(Y/N) stopped when she saw him. “Oh. Hi, Jamil.” 
“Hi,” Jamil said, limply lifting a hand in greeting. 
Malleus looked down at Jamil, glaring. “Viper.” It sounded more like an insult than his name. 
“Did you need something?” (Y/N) asked. “It’s kind of late. Is everything okay?” 
“I-” Jamil started. “I need to talk to you.” 
Malleus stepped in front of (Y/N), but stopped when (Y/N) put a hand on his arm. They had a quick and quiet conversation, Malleus nodded and walked away. (Y/N) came up to the front door, opening it for him. 
“I’ll make some tea,” She said as they stepped into the entryway. 
“Wait-” Jamil said, catching her hand. Everything tumbled out of him all at once. “I wanted to go out with you. I like you, so much so that it scares me sometimes. That’s why I said no earlier. I just think - I thought you would - should - do better than me, after everything that’s happened. But I -” He paused, only realizing now how out of breath he was. (Y/N) looked up at him and he felt breathless all over again. “I want to do better. I want to be better, for you if not for anything else. I know I probably don’t deserve it but, (Y/N), will you go out with me?” 
(Y/N) laughed, wiping away tears at the corners of her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Yes, I’d like that a lot.” 
Vil: 
Something was wrong, Vil could feel it. After all the chaos of his time at Night Raven College, he had almost developed a sixth sense for this type of thing. 
Vil narrowed his eyes, sweeping them over the Pomfiore sitting room. A group of students were sitting around one of the tables, studying. A few others were in front of the fireplace. A couple others were performing some viral dance for a Magicam reel. Nothing seemed amiss here. 
Vil walked down the hall of the dorm, heels clicking against the marble floor. With a missed step, Vil realized he hadn’t seen Epel or Rook in quite some time. That was… concerning. He quickened his walk. 
Vil almost gave himself whiplash as he passed by the ballroom. The door was cracked open ever so slightly so he could peer through. He felt slightly ridiculous, eavesdropping as if he wasn’t the caretaker for the dorm and all those in it. But his thoughts faltered as he observed the scene inside. He found Epel and Rook, as well as several other Pomfiore students, constructing elaborate sets out of painted cardboard and repurposed decorations from the dorm. Was that…? Something about this all seemed eerily familiar. 
“Wait, wait! You’re early!” (Y/N) said. She appeared in front of him, waving her hands to try and block his view. She grabbed his hand, tugging him out of the room. “Don’t look!” She pushed him back into the hall, disappearing back into the ballroom. A second later, she emerged with a chair, setting it down and waving to it. “Just another few minutes.” The door clicked closed behind her before Vil could say anything. He thought about barging in, demanding an explanation. But his curiosity got the better of him. And besides, he always loved to see what (Y/N) got up to. Huffing in amusement, he sat down, crossing his legs at the ankles. 
A while later, Epel, Rook, and the other students fled the ballroom, giving Vil knowing looks as they passed. With skepticism, Vil stood up and made his way inside. Standing in the doorway, he was suddenly hit with a wave of nostalgia. Taking a better look, he recognized the replica set. It was from one of his first ever movies, a children’s adventure called The Heist of the Everlasting Rose. This particular scene was set in a museum where the Everlasting Rose was kept. It had been a supporting role, where, ironically, he had played a child actor in part of a crew to steal the titular Rose to pay for the main character’s sister’s surgery, or some other such justifiable nonsense like that. It was his first big screen production, although it was a relatively low-budget and minor movie. He remembered after the film had come out he and his father would pour over reviews praising his performance. At that moment, he felt like he was on top of the world. 
Vil was brought out of his reminiscing by (Y/N)’s voice. “Hello, sir!” She said. She had put on a tour guide’s jacket, once again modeled after the one in the film. “Welcome to the museum! We have our prized exhibit right this way.” Vil smirked, humoring her, if nothing else than to see where this was all going. Linking their arms, (Y/N) brought him through the makeshift museum. “Legend has it that this rose was given by a cursed prince to his beloved, who saved him from the brink of death with its magical powers. Since then, it has been a symbol of pure and everlasting love.” She carefully lifted the cloche from the silk flower, tiny fairy lights arranged around the base. She held it out to him, one hand dramatically pressed to her chest. “And now, I’d like to give it to you, Vil, to profess my everlasting love. Would you go out with me?” 
Vil couldn’t help it, it was all too much. The extravagant set, (Y/N) memorizing specific passages from such an old and now obscure film, the entire production. He burst out laughing, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth, eyes closed. “Well,” He said, catching his breath. “After such a wonderful effort, how could I possibly say no? Yes, my dearest (Y/N), I would love nothing more than to be with you.” 
Rook: 
“(Y/N), you’re gonna shoot your eye out.” 
“No, it’ll be fine. You have to take risks for the sake of love.” 
“Oh, Seven, we don’t need two of you.” 
Rook’s ears picked up, hearing Epel and (Y/N) talking in the back gardens of the Pomefiore dorm. Smiling, he crept around to (definitely not) spy on them. (Y/N) was struggling with a large bow, an arrow flopping around as she tried to aim it. Pomfiore had a small target practice area set up in the back of the dorm. (Y/N) was trying, emphasis on trying, to shoot arrows at one of the red and white round targets. After her latest arrow struck the ground in front of the target, Epel sighed and walked to the target, collecting other fallen arrows. He stabbed them into the target in the shape of a heart, a letter with Rook’s name pinned to the bullseye. 
“Don’t say I never did anything for you,” Epel said. 
“Oh? And what favor are you performing, Monsieur Pommette?” Both of them jumped, Rook smiling wider at the surprised squeak (Y/N) made. 
“You’re on your own, (Y/N)!” Epel said before rushing off. 
(Y/N) huffed. “Traitor,” She said under her breath. She turned to Rook. “Hi.” 
“Bonjour, Trickster.” 
“You’re, uh, early. I thought you were going to be at your club for a while longer.” 
Rook waved a hand. “There was an unexpected explosion and we had to evacuate. But I am much more interested in what you’re up to here.” 
“Ah, well…” She trailed off, limply pointing to the letter stabbed in the target. She covered her face with her hands, heat rushing to her cheeks as Rook elegantly plucked the letter up and began reading. 
(Y/N) could basically see the hearts forming in his eyes as he finished reading her confession. He dramatically clutched the love letter to his chest, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. “Oh, mon amour le plus cher! Comme c’est merveilleux de lire vos sentiments les plus caret! Je n’ai jamais vu quelque chose d’aussi beau!” 
“So,” (Y/N) asked nervously. “Is that a yes?” 
“Oui, oui! One thousand times oui!” He cheered as he gathered her in a swinging hug. 
Epel: 
Epel found the first note the day after (Y/N)’s announcement in the cafeteria. Whatever she had wanted to do was apparently pretty important, as she had grabbed Grim and they left immediately. Epel hadn’t seen her the rest of the day, but he would recognize that handwriting on the paper wrapped around his dorm room handle anywhere. 
He looked around to make sure no one was watching before unfolding the paper and reading. ‘Epel, I have something important I need to ask, but before that I have a simple task. Take this first note of the set and go to the place we first met. Love, (Y/N).’ Epel tried not to think too much about that ‘Love’ part. Where did he and (Y/N) first meet? At this point it almost felt like they had known eachother forever. 
Would that be, maybe, the well in the quad? Epel remembered meeting her, Ace, Deuce, and Grim there when he was rehearsing singing, using the well’s acoustics. But, no, they had seen each other somewhere else first. Epel blushed in embarrassment at the memory. He had been crying, frustrated to hell and back with Vil’s lectures right after coming back from winter break. He’d run into them at the Great Seven statues. 
Epel went to the statues, deciding if he didn’t find anything there he would try the well. But, lo and behold, another note was waiting at the base of the Fairest Queen’s statue. He read, ‘Epel, Congrats on finding your second clue! By now you have an idea of what to do. For the next place I want you to go, think of the place we lived side by side before the show. Love, (Y/N).’ 
That one was easy, Ramshackle dorm. As Epel sprinted across campus, both notes held tightly in his fist, he reminisced about spending his days training for the VDC in Ramshackle. Most of the time there seemed like torture, running endless dancing drills, feeling constricted by Vil’s lessons whose purpose he still didn’t fully understand at the time, worrying about the whole dorm falling down around his ears at any moment. But there were plenty of good moments too. (Y/N) making them - Vil approved - breakfast in the morning, her encouragement at each of their rehearsals, how she would slip them treats when Vil and Rook’s backs were turned to help boost their mood. 
Sure enough, Epel found his next note on the Ramshackle front gate. There was another rhyme instructing him to go to another location, also connected to his and (Y/N)’s relationship and past. That lead to another and to another and another, each unlocking a precious memory between the two. Eventually, he unfolded the final note, the sun just starting to set, casting NRC in beautiful golden light. ‘Epel, I hope by now you get to see exactly how much you mean to me. We’ve been through a lot and I’ve enjoyed every and I’ve enjoyed every second, and… Okay, I can’t come up with any more rhymes. Just turn around!’ 
Lowering the paper, Epel turned, opening his arms just in time to catch (Y/N) in a big hug. They spun around each other for a second with the momentum, finally coming to a stop and looking to each other's eyes. 
“Hi,” (Y/N) said. “Did you like my scavenger hunt?” 
“You’re bad at rhyming,” Epel said with a crooked smile. 
She wacked his shoulder. “Hey, I meant what I wrote, though. I really like you, Epel. Would you go out with me?” 
Epel squeaked her tight. “Only if you promise not to write any more poetry.” 
Idia: 
Idia was holding out in his room, huddled under a blanket, his phone clutched tight in his hand. He was watching a live stream from his favorite idol group, Premo. He smiled as the group answered fan questions, talked about their upcoming tour, and demonstrated how to perform some of their most famous dance moves. 
The viewer chat scrolled across the side of the screen. Donations and chat reactions popped up in various animations across the screen. Idia hit the donate button, sending a flurry of roses blooming along the edges of the screen. He smiled as the idols thanked Gloomurai for his support. 
One of the idols leaned over, checking the chat feed. She gasped, flapping a hand at the others and enthusiastically pointing at what she was reading. They all started smiling and giggling, whispering to each other. Idia shuffled closer, as if that would let him read whatever message they had gotten. 
“Hey, everyone!” One of them said. “We’ve got a super special shout-out! This is from (Username) to… Gloomurai!” 
Idia’s heart raced as he sat up in bed, blanket draped over him. (Username), (Username)... Wait, he recognized that. That was your username! He had helped you set up your account to the MMO he played a while ago. He remembered helping you through the intro stages, stumbling over the tutorials. He had laughed at your frustrated frown as you died on the same boss for the third time. 
“Aww,” The second idol said. “This is sweet. It says, ‘Gloomurai, I thought about telling you this in person, but I wasn’t sure when that would actually be. And sometimes big feelings require big gestures. I like you, I really, really like you. I think I have for a long time. I love your smile, I love your hair, I love your brain, I love that you’re such an amazing big brother. Will you go out with me?’ Well, Gloomurai? Tell us your answer! We’re waiting on pins and needles here!” 
“Oh, wait,” The third idol said. “There’s more. It says, ‘PS, check your door.’” 
Idia yelped as he shot up, the blanket falling to a heap on the floor. Heart thundering in his chest and head starting to go fuzzy. He almost felt like he was in a daze as he walked with trepidation to his door. Slowly opening it, Idia saw a basket placed just in front. It was filled with his favorite snacks, small acrylic standees of characters from his favorite games and anime, and studded with bluebells, irises, and blue asters. A large paper heart was pinned to the front with her and his initials drawn in the middle. Hair flaring pink, he quickly brought the basket back into his room before any of his dorm mates would notice. 
He heard commotion from his phone, Premo and the chat all eagerly awaiting his response. He sent in another donation with a simple, “Yes.” The idols cheered and squealed. 
He swiped out of the livestream, opening his messaging app. (Y/N)’s name popped up with a new message, a cheering emoticon with three blue hearts. 
He subconsciously covered his face as he smiled wide, typing back, “You’re so cringe. Can’t wait for the date.” 
Silver: 
(Y/N) sprinted across campus, heading whipping around to try and catch a familiar shimmer of silver white hair. She skidded to a stop when she saw a black Diasamonia coat draped over a low tree branch, a pair of shined boots sticking out behind the trunk. 
(Y/N) rounded the old oak tree. “Silv-! Oh, sorry.” 
Silver was reclining against the tree, hands folded across his stomach, chest rising and falling with deep even breaths, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as he slept. A few songbirds and a pair of squirrels congregated around him, looking up with big eyes at the newcomer. 
(Y/N) shifted her weight from foot to foot before screwing up her courage and sitting down next to Silver. She shuffled down so she laid next to him, still leaving enough room to not cause too much of a scandal if anyone walked by. She settled down, closing her eyes and relaxing, taking in the sounds of the woodland animals around them, the talking of other students in the distance, the wind whispering through the trees. 
A short while later, she heard stirring next to her. (Y/N) blinked awake quickly, propping herself up and leaning back on her hands as Silver woke up beside her. 
“Hi,” She said. “Would  you want to go out with me?” 
Silver blinked the sleep out of his eyes, looking up at her. “I must still be dreaming,” He muttered. “If I am, then…” He reached forward, cupping the back of her head and pulling her down. She gasped as their lips brushed. Silver’s eyes suddenly shot open and he jerked back from her as if burned. “I- uh-” He studded, pale skin turning a ruby red. 
(Y/N) giggled at his embarrassment. “Well, I guess that’s a yes, right?” 
Sebek: 
“Be right back!” (Y/N) said as she suddenly stood from the first year cafeteria table. Before anyone had a chance to say anything, she was off like a shot. 
“Any idea what that was about?” Epel asked. The others shrugged. 
Grim reached over to snag half (Y/N)’s sandwich from her discarded tray. “Probably going to go ask out that boy she keeps talking about,” He said nonchalantly, mouth full. 
Sebek choked, standing fast and slamming his hands on the table so all their plates and cutlery clattered. “What!” 
“Chill, man,” Ace said, waving him down as people across the cafeteria turned to stare. Ace smirked. “Unless you’re particularly invested in (Y/N)’s love life?” 
Sebek blushed and slammed back into his seat. He picked his knife and fork back up and started sawing at his Salisbury steak. “No,” He snapped. “(Y/N) can do whatever she wants. What do I care?” 
“Sure,” Epel said. 
(Y/N) reappeared in the cafeteria a short while later, Malleus in tow. She was talking with him, gesturing with her hands. Malleus had a wide, amused smile, nodding along. 
Sebek stood again, at attention for his prince. “Good afternoon, Lord Malleus!” He said. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?” He scowled at the other first years rolling their eyes at his formality. 
“Hello, Sebek. I’ve come to give my blessing.” 
“Blessing?” 
“Sebek!” (Y/N) said brightly. She took both his hands in hers as he sputtered and blushed. “I really like you. Would you go out with me?” 
For once, Sebek was speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. (Y/N) squeezed his hands tighter as Malleus chuckled next to them. “Well, Sebek? It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting.” 
Life seized back into the knight. He tightened his grasp on (Y/N), pulling her closer. “Yes! Absolutely! I mean, ahem, I accept your offer of courting, since you went so far to get my lord’s blessing, after all.” 
Lilia: 
Lilia wouldn’t call what he was doing skulking, exactly. More like surprise chaperoning, keeping an eye on the youngsters of Night Raven College like a good upperclassman should. And, if he just so happened to pop out and scare the living daylights out of whatever unfortunate student happened to be nearby, well, more fun for him. 
So it wasn’t especially surprising when he heard Silver and (Y/N) talking to each other in the courtyard. As a sly smile stretched across his face, he floated to a hiding place in the shadows of the flying buttresses, resting on his stomach to kick his feet, chin resting in his hands, as he observed the two. 
“You want my permission?” Silver asked, an amused smile on his face. 
“Of course!” (Y/N) replied. “I wouldn’t want to make it weird by dating him while we’re all still students together.” 
Lilia faltered. That was the problem with spying, sometimes you heard things you didn’t want to. So the Prefect was romantically interested in someone, eh? And if they were asking Silver for permission, it must be someone close to him. Sebek, maybe? Or, oh dear, Malleus? Lilia knew for a fact that both of the boys thought of (Y/N) as a close and dear friend and nothing more. His heart panged in sympathy at the idea of rejection. And, if he was being honest with himself, it panged with something else as well. 
“You don’t think he’s a little old for you?” Silver asked teasingly. 
“Maybe I like a silver fox,” (Y/N) teased right back. 
Silver laughed. “I don’t think I ever want to hear my father described as a silver fox ever again.” 
Lilia lost his concentration, falling with a yelp against one of the chandeliers hanging in the hallway. 
“Lilia?” (Y/N) asked with a gasp. 
Lilia smiled, trying to regain poise as he floated down to them. “Looks like I’m not as slick as I used to be. Now, what were you two discussing just now?” 
(Y/N) look startled. Silver gave her shoulder a reassuring pat and left with a wave. Just the two of them now, (Y/N) took a deep breath, building up her courage. 
“Lilia!” She said, probably a little too loudly with nerves. “I really like you! Would you go out with me?” 
Lilia chuckled, leaning close to enjoy the shy and flustered look on her face. “Well, if you have my son’s blessing, how am I to refuse? Besides, I think I rather like being called a, what was it you said? A silver fox?” 
Malleus: 
Malleus looked up from his book, looking around his room for the source of the noise that disturbed his studying. There, another sharp ‘ping’ from across the room. He looked to the window, noticing a small pebble hitting the glass. He walked over and opened the window, dodging just in time to miss another pebble. 
“Oops! Sorry, Horton!” He looked down, a smile automatically crossing his face at (Y/N)’s voice. But his expression quickly changed to puzzlement as he looked down at her. (Y/N) was standing in the courtyard of the Diasomonia dorm, inside a giant heart made of dozens of tiny tea candles. 
In a swirl of green light, Malleus appeared next to her on the ground floor. She jumped a little bit at his sudden appearance, but quickly recovered herself and beamed up at him. He felt his heart flip in that pleasant way it always did when he was near her. 
“What’s all this?” 
She cleared her throat dramatically, dropping to one knee. “Dearest Horton, you have bewitched me body and soul. I would like to officially court you. Would you do me the absolute pleasure of accompanying me on a date this weekend?” 
Malleus blinked down at her for a moment, basking in the admiration and adoration filling her eyes. He laughed, reaching down to take her hand and pull her to standing. “My, how formal,” He said. 
She smiled, shrugging. “I wanted it to be memorable. Couldn’t manage the fireworks, though. Sorry.” 
“I can rectify that.” With an elegant sweep of his hand, sparks erupted from Malleus’s fingertips, shooting into the dark sky around the dorm to explode in fantastic colors. Students from in the dorm leaned out windows to admire the impromptu show. 
Malleus drew (Y/N) closer to him, admiring the multicolor flashes playing across her face. “I would adore being anywhere with you.”
789 notes · View notes
yukioos · 22 days ago
Text
ESPRESSO (BED CHEM PT2)
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SUMMARY: viktor x reader // you awake from loud bangs at the end of the hallway. spooked, you cautiously walk down just to see it was jayce and viktor with their working hextech, and a not so happy professor heimdinger.
AUTHORS NOTE: hi guysss!! requests for jayce, mel, and viktor are now open! i might start writing for other arcane character soon. sorry this took so long to post 💗 also tysm for 300 followers! i never knew bed chem would blow up so much :) i appreciate all the love and support! kinda feel like i should make a part 3 but im not sure yet🤭🤭 this is 1.4k words
WARNINGS: cussing, not proofread
TAGS: @th3stup1dcat @aise-30 @22carolina08 @sarahskywalker-amidala @novausstuff @sseleniaa @blueesmiski @coffeemin @na0mii03
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loud bangs awake you from your sleep. you jump up, feeling startled by the intense noise. you grumble from your comfortable bed and give in, throwing your luxury covers off your body.
cool air quickly envelopes your frame, and you swing your legs over the side of your bed, laying your feet on the cold floor. you shiver at the feeling, then slip on your fuzzy slippers, meant for walking during cold mornings.
enforcers must be at the place of disturbance. you wouldn’t know what to do if they aren’t already dealing with the problem. after picking up a coat from a hanger, you quickly walk to the noise.
unpredictably, the enforcers were the individuals causing the disruption. professor heimerdinger stands in the middle of the two men dressed in dark blue. you stand at a safe distance, watching the enforcers pound on the door, observing the moment.
loud buzzing and crackling is heard from inside the lab, and blue light shines through the cracks of the door. you remember what you said to the two men just a couple of hours ago. hopefully, jayce and viktor haven’t done anything too dangerous.
the double door suddenly blasts open, and pieces of wood fly in various directions. a bright, blue ray of light explodes in the professor and enforcers’ way. you hide behind a nearby wall and cover your head, expecting the worst. but when hardly any destruction occurs, you peek around the wall.
the yordle warns, “excuse me, underfoot,” causing the enforcers to unshield their faces and stare in awe at the sight in front of them.
viewing their stances, you walk behind them and take a peek into the laboratory. viktor and jayce float around a blue ball of energy. jayce chuckles and taps a gadget into the ball of energy, and it goes right through. viktor catches it from the other side and begins giggling like a child as he makes swimming motions.
the professor stares up at the sight. his ears droop and he undoubtedly states, “you’ve actually done it.” his ears flop up, and he fidgets with his hands, “but just because it can be done, doesn’t mean…” he looks up, “will you please stop hovering?”
the cute brunette continues to move in the air, he jokes, “i’m not sure how to do that, sir.”
you giggle, placing a hand over your mouth, and the enforcers cautiously turn around. you place your finger to your mouth, silently commanding them to say nothing about your appearance.
the professor nervously adds, “this is not what piltover’s future looks like, my dear boys.” he looks behind him, a worried expression on his face, as if he’s about to break down in tears. his eyes meet yours, and he jumps, “ah! councilor l/n, what are you doing here… at this time? it’s late, you should be sleeping!”
you quickly come up with an excuse, “i apologize, professor. i couldn’t rest, so i was planning to take a trip to the garden. i thought, perhaps it would calm my nerves.”
you smile at the enforcers, and they clear their way to make a path for you. you peer into the inside of the room, eyes widening in shock. you mumble, “woah,” the sight is one of the most beautiful you’ve ever seen.
nothing could compare to this moment. this moment will be remembered in history. the blue light shines all across the room, and people float for the first time with nothing to stand on! best of all, viktor and jayce will get accreditation for this work and dedication to their hextech project.
you lock eyes with viktor just to realize his eyes were on you the whole time. warmth somehow reaches your body in the cold academy, and you still manage to ask, “how did you do this so quickly?”
“we…” viktor starts answering, not knowing how to continue without sounding stupid in front of a well-known figure and beautiful woman, “we cranked it,” he chuckles along with jayce.
you have no idea what the hell he’s talking about, but damn, does he look attractive. his eye bags are dark under his eyes. you suppose he spends most of his night working on scientific research, and his messy hair flows in the air, most likely ruining his hair from the explosion.
his white vest has stains on it, maybe from drinking tea to keep himself awake. but viktor appears as if he’s close to passing out, so you ask, “are you aware of how to get down, gentlemen?”
jayce looks at his partner, probably trying to check in with him, “maybe turn the dial to the left?”
viktor shrugs and states, “worth a shot.”
you walk to the dial and ask the two men if you’re near the correct one. you slowly turn it left, anxiously waiting for something terrible to happen, or for one of them to command you to halt your movement.
the two brunettes suddenly drop at a quick speed, yelling at the unexpected scene. you move at lightning speed, running to the closest man, as the two enforcers run to the other. you half-catch the taller, lean man, his feet on the ground as you hold his waist for security.
he stares at you for a few moments as his face flushes, he mumbles, “thank you, councilor l/n.” and smiles at you, eyes darting from you to his cane, lying on the ground.
his arm lays around your shoulder, and you bring him close to a desk he can lean on. without a word, you step over to his handmade cane and pick up the delicate material, placing it in his hand. he thanks you once again.
you come up with an idea and grin to yourself. you politely ask, “are you two free tomorrow? i would like to talk about the future of piltover and what you have planned for what you will do with the hextech next.”
jayce brushes off his pants and places his hand on his chin before smirking, “actually! i have to uhh—“ he stutters, attempting to come up with an excuse, “i’m hanging out with caitlyn. i’m afraid i can’t make it, councilor l/n.”
you drown and politely reword your sentence, “perhaps we can reschedule a time so you can come—“
“oh, no! that isn’t necessary, please do not worry about it. i’m sure viktor can tell me everything you’ll talk about with him.” jayce winks at the shorter brunette. he gives him a sharp glare back.
“i am free of events tomorrow. where should we meet? and at what time, councilor?” viktor asks, trying to appear formal and proper in front of you.
“how about we discuss it at celine’s around twelve? it’s just six blocks past the academy.”
he smiles and looks down at you, “that would be perfect,” his freckles stand out to you so much.
you take a moment to remember his face before sighing, “it’s late. we should all be going to bed.”
many agrees and chuckles at shears from around you, and you smile and wave at the three scientists and two enforcers. as you step through the hallway, you jump and cheer, pumping your fist in the air. you practically get to go on a date with viktor tomorrow!
once he and jayce are the only individuals in the room, viktor leans on the desk and places his head in his hands, groaning. he isn’t ready to talk to you one-on-one yet.
jayce rolls his eyes, “what’s wrong? i just gave you a pass to be alone with her— for hours. that’s the perfect time to get to know her.”
“what am i supposed to talk about, jayce? you know i’m not the best at conversations or communicating, what makes you think i can talk to a person i’m interested in?” he complains, gently hitting his head with his wrist.
“it’ll come to you when you’re ready.”
“that isn’t helpful at all,” viktor side eyes the taller man, who just shrugs and tells him goodnight.
as viktor walks back to his room, even as he brushes his teeth, puts on his sleep clothes, all he can think about is impressing you tomorrow. maybe jayce is right, maybe he just doesn’t know how he’d talk to you now.
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o-sunny-day · 2 months ago
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SCROLL FOR @forgettable-au ANGST :D
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ok so ((WAILS LOUDLY))
WE KNOW HOW THIS GOES *breaks knuckles* ITS TIME TO TEAR APART MY ART BECAUSE PASSION
trust me, im a proFESSIONAL yapper at this point
This whole thing takes place within my own headcanon that “The Quiche Room” was one of many of Sans and Wingdings’ little hangout spots. They also really liked the echo flower there (maybe they planted it themselves-) Maybe thats why Papyrus is so unnerved and disturbed by echo flowers now…
Notice, the echo flower grows as they grow!
Oh yeah! I had fun drawing them grown in their kid outfits for 2. Wingdings can finally see his ankles
2 is also sorta a reference to my Radio Star comic, same stuff they did as kids, Wingdings working and Sans assisting, They haven’t changed too much yet. haven’t gotten the lab job. yet.
in 3, this is after they get the job at the lab and Wingdings realizes its a great place for supporting his unhealthy habits of seclusion and emotional repression. The echo flower is repeating something Wingdings said a while ago. I dont know what- fill in your own angst I suppose (I cant do EVERYTHING around here)
in 1 and 2, the light sources… are each other. Sans n Wd. Theyre each others lights. Each others stars (cries loudly and noticeably) but then for 3, the only light source is the echo flower. Yknow. The echo flower. with wingdings’ voice
4 is how the quiche room looks in the game 👍 Dunno whats sadder… Wingdings’ voice being removed because he’s in the void now, or because someone just talked over it without a second thought.
Oh yeah, and its empty because Sans and Papyrus don’t remember that ever being a place they hung out.
Yeah.
Yeah, im crying too. Its okay, let it out.
SANS AND GASTER SANS AND GASTER SANS AND GASTER (PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE) I need them to interact i’m gonna have an aneurism.
THIS PART IS GETTING ITS OWN SECTION BECAUSE CMON MAN, ITS SANS AND GASTER
It was said in this post that Sans knows he was involved in whatever accident Gaster had, that had MAJOR consequences, and made everything and everyone different.
That makes me wonder, does Sans feel any guilt?? like subconsciously or not, he knows he was involved, so does he suspect he could have done something to stop it, or did something bad, and he was at fault in some way?
I DONT THINK HE WAS
so in 5, Sans is asking “what happened.”
What happened to him, why is everything like this, was it his fault? what did he do? what did he NOT do???
And Gaster just replies “Nothing that wasn’t my own fault.”
OK THATS ENOUGH. WHITEBOARD DOODLES, ATTACK!!!!
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also- I PROMISE IM WORKING ON THE DTIYS 😭😭😭 IVE GOT IDEAS IDK HOW TO EXECUTE EM
Heres a thing I made/am working on(???) that was inspired by the dtiys though :3
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checkeredflagggs · 4 months ago
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Glazed and Confused
Pairing: Lando Norris x Potter!Youtuber!reader
Summary: when lando fails to make a simple mug, fans direct him towards your YouTube channel
a/n: I took 1 hr long class on pottery and quit. Don’t like the feel of it, have mostly forgot literally everything about it so…🤷🏻‍♀️
a/n 2: I really struggled to get lando’s voice down and don’t really think I did. Oops 😬 will work on that for next time (also plz ignore that changing of the handles. I try to keep them accurate but again I’m not on those social media platforms so…)
a/n 3: I tried to make sure that this reader was never gendered or given a race — there’s one photo near the end that depicts 2 white smaller hands but I think that is the only time. Please let me know how I did, if you could
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Pottery Made Easy has posted
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potterymadeeasy
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liked by user1, user2, and 2316 others
pottermadeeasy: my newest video (mugs and bowls, pt 2) is now up! In it I show you ways to add a little flourish and decorations to the pieces you made from part 1!
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user1: thank you your majesty! Easy to understand and so so easy to follow!! (unlike my professor 🙄😬)
user2: right? If they either stopped mumbling or spoke up…
user1: might be asking too much of someone born in the 1800s 😭🙄
user2: unfortunately
user3: god your work is so gorgeous. Do you sell anything?
potterynadeeasy: occasionally! I’m based in Monaco rn and a friend owns a shop and sometimes they let me use a shelf or 2
user4: ohh! I’m in France. Plz plz plz make an announcement when you will next have some ready! I’d love to own a piece
potterynadeeasy: of course lovely 😊 vague plans are to have some ready in the next week or 2!
user4: seriously?!? Marking the calendar right now!
user3: you have no idea how jealous I am right now…
potterynadeeasy: dm me! I might be able to ship it to you depending on where you are!
user3: faints bless you
user5: landonorris here! They might be able to help you
user6: be so for real right now. It’ll take a miracle to help landonorris
user7: I hate to be a negative nancy but…yeah. That latest stream was bad bad landonorris
user8: I dont even know…that clay flew… landonorris
user9: would hate to be his cleaner…
lnupdates
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lnupdates: some of our favorite moments from Lando’s latest stream where he was attempting to make a ceramic mug…bowl? It was certainly an interesting one to watch
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user5: interesting is one way to put it. Tragic is another
user6: no but really…that was. I legit have no words
user7: he needs to watch potterymadeeasy! I love their videos
user8: oh? I haven’t heard of them
user7: they’re a Monaco based potter that has a lot of simple how to videos!
user8: just watched one of them! And god their voice…🥵
user7: oh my god right?!?
user5: but are they gonna be enough to help lando?
user7: well they certainly couldn’t make it any worse tbh
user9: you got this lando! Pottery isn’t something easy to pick up - you just gotta keep trying!
user10: yeah! There was definitely some improvement by the end
Bluesky
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Private DMs
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landonorris
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liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 2,790,469 others
landonorris: progress! these ones were mostly standing. I’m not done yet though - catch me tomorrow night giving it another go
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user11: those looked good! Most definitely an improvement!
user12: he’s almost there! It’s literally just the little things now
user13: oh how far we’ve come! In less then a year he’s gone from flying clay to something that could generously be called a bowl
user14: and an “artistic” vase!
oscarpiastri: definitely better then last time
landonorris: mate…
oscarpiastri: you don’t pay your cleaner enough
landonorris: mate!! get out of my comments
charles_leclerc: keep trying! Maybe one day you’ll get there
landonorris: yeah say goodbye to your Christmas present
charles_leclerc: 👎🏻
alex_albon: will be there! And will definitely be recording - gotta have proof 😂
landonorris: is it national bully lando day here or something?
user15: yes
user16: yes
oscarpiastri: yes
charles_leclerc: yes 👍🏻
georgerussell63: yes
alex_albon: yes!!
maxverstappen1: yes
danielricciardo: yes!
carlossainz55: yes!
landonorris: you freaking muppets!
user17: ok but am I the only one who noticed he kept looking to the side and like beaming?
user18: no but I thought I was going insane? Like he was so soft?
user17: yeah! definitely getting the feeling he wasn’t the only one there. Just who are you looking at?
user18: dare we say little lando norris has a partner now?
landonorris
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landonorris: haha! I did kt! A mug a vase and a bowl!! On to the next step - glazing! And you muppets didn’t think I could do it
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user19: woohoo! Congrats lando! Those look so so good!
user20: and those glazes are gonna be fire when they’re done. I use the same brand and colors he did and they turn out AMAZING
user19: ok don’t be shy drop the names plz
potterymadeeasy: those look great!
landonorris: thank you! Had a great teacher 😉
user21: ariana (potterymadeeasy) what are you doing here?
user22: thoughts are being thunk
user23: unthunk those thoughts right now
user22: sorry…thots are being thunk rn
user23: nurse she’s out again!
user21: really? Under my comment thread?
user24: I’ve connected the dots.
user25: you’ve connected shit
user24: no I’ve connected them
user25: god get a life
charles_leclerc: congrats!
carlossainz55: it only took a few months…
alex_albon: a couple of different throwing wheels
georgerussell63: and 3 different cleaning companies
landonorris: I’m gonna run you all over with my car
mclaren: legally this is a joke
landonorris
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liked by potterymadeeasy, danielricciardo, carlossainz55, and 2,922,713 others
landonorris: first round of my ceramics are currently cooking in the kiln. Starting a new batch and stretching my creative skills
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user26: holy shit those look INCREDIBLE
user27: I’m so shocked! I just started watching the old streams so like in the course of a day he went from wet clay lumps to these masterpieces
user28: I’m so so proud of him - I’m currently trying to get into pottery and ceramics and watching him keep at it is so inspiring
user26: user28 you can do it! Persistence is key
oscarpiastri: man thinks he’s Picasso now…but for real congrats lando. Those look good! And functional too
landonorris: I’m only gonna give you the lumpy ones actually
oscarpiastri: I’m good thanks
landonorris: 🙃
oscarpiastri: honestly proud of you. You’ve come a long way
landonorris: thanks mate!
oscarpiastri: I’m also glad you can stop calling me crying about your latest fuck up
landonorris: you muppet!
danielricciardo: too soon to call dibs on that dragonfly mug?
landonorris: after the way you continuously kept laughing at me?
danielricciardo: in encouragement?
landonorris: 😑
danielricciardo: 🥹🧡?
landonorris: fine 🙄
user29: ok yeah good job on those designs and whatever but are we gonna mention those HEART MUGS?!
landonorris: 😂🧡😉
user29: get back here and answer some questions! What? Does? That? Mean?
landonorris: 🏃🏻‍♂️💨
user29: SIR!
maxverstappen1: i see you’re finished making my present but really? Matching heart mugs?
landonorris: not actually for you!
maxverstappen1: heart❤️ been broke💔🤕 so many times⏰ i don’t know❌🤷‍♀️ what to believe 🍃🙏
landonorris: …who are you and where is max?
maxverstappen1: I thought what we had was special
landonorris: not my favorite relationship anymore! Sorry 🧡
maxverstappen1: 💔
potterymadeeasy: those look good!
landonorris: I had a good teacher 🧡
potterymadeeasy: flatterer
landonorris: always 😉
User22: !!!
User23: shut up shut up shut up
landonorris
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landonorris: kiln unveiling and some upcoming projects!
listen. when I randomly decided that I wanted to learn how to make ceramic dishes, it was mostly because I wanted to make something with my own 2 hands — and when I wasn’t immediately good at it, I decided that I wouldn’t stop until I was.
Its been a long couple of months with a lot of struggles but I can finally say that I’m proud of how far I’ve come. It hasn’t been easy but the journey and the process has been fun and i genuinely can’t wait to see what comes next!
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user30: I’m? Crying? 😭
user31: omg same!!! To see how far he’s come and to hear that he’s finally proud of himself too…
user32: we’re excited for you too!
user33: excited? For what? Some more mediocre “Art” by some mediocre man?
user32: go fuck yourself. And get out of my comments. And off lando’s page
used34: user33 how about you go get some sun and maybe shove some kindness up yours! 🖕
oscarpiastri: seriously, congratulations. Those look incredible
landonorris: thanks mate! I do appreciate your support
oscarpiastri: and my cupboards appreciate your work
user34: 🩵🩵 ahhh he’s giving away his pieces
alex_albon: it’s been a fun ride watching you!
landonorris: thanks i think
alex_albon: no problem!
alex_albon: and could you send me the name of your newest cleaning crew? They most be ungodly good
landonorris: and there it is… cleaningcrew
alex_albon: anyway i could get a series of mugs inspired by albon_pets?
landonorris: I’ll need a lot of pretty good pictures
alex_albon: on it 🫡
landonorris: in fact I might need to visit in person
albon_pets: yay! We love ❤️ getting visitors
user35: UMMM?!? That 5th photo?!?
user36: IS THIS A SOFT LAUNCH? DOES LITTLE LANDO NORRIS FINALLY HAVE A PARTNER AGAIN?!?
landonorris: 🫢🤫
user36: YOU CANT KEEP GETTJNG AWAY WITH THIS
landonorris: 😂🏃🏻‍♂️💨
yourpriv: my love, I’m so proud of you! Putting yourself out there in the world to learn something new is never easy but you have done it with amazing persistence and talent.
landopriv: babe… you know I couldn’t do it without you
yourpriv: oh I have no doubt you would have gotten here on your own
landopriv: no. No i don’t think I would have. I’m a fast guy and I’m used to fast results. When I reached out to you, it was a last resort last string. If it didn’t work out with your help, I was honestly going to quit. You pushed me to get better, to stick with it till I made it.
yourpriv: 🥹🥹🥹
landopriv: I’m serious. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me — i love you 🧡
yourpriv: 🥹🥰🧡 I love you too hun
maxverstappen1: can’t lie — it was a fun ride watching you fail but I also can’t wait to see what you make next
landonorris: …thanks for your support 😑🙄😅
maxverstappen1: you know it!
landonorris
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tagged: yourpriv, potterymadeeasy
landonorris: no time for a soft launch. Thank you honey for teaching me pottery and for designing such a bomb ass helmet!
comments have been limited on this post
potterymadeeasy: Lando! We had a plan!
landonorris: 🤷🏻‍♂️
landonorris: love ya!
potterymadeeasy:…love you too!
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scudslut · 11 months ago
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ahhh yes yes, I haven’t written him too subby on here yet so I was super excited to write this❤️ I hope you like it @darylsgirl23 <3
Heartsease
Daryl x f!reader
Setting: Bridge Camp/Post Savior War
Wordcount: 2.6k
Warnings: 18+, softdom reader, unestablished relationship (but both know there’s a little somethin somethin iykwim), aka your his and everyone knows it, oral (m - receiving), unprotected piv, premature finish
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Daryl was never one to keep still.
It made him anxious to be in one place for too long, always going on runs and patrols ensuring his people were as safe and provided for as they could be. He felt at ease outside the walls, out of people's prying gazes, and left alone to do his part for the community in peace. These days though, he was a flurry of activity. Hardly ever in the same spot long enough to see the sun rise and set again.
You knew he felt guilty - that he was angry and didn't know how to release it. You'd watch him work on the bridge for hours, frustration seeping out of his bones and into the atmosphere around him. It hung off him like a phantom.
The vast majority of the community was intimidated by it. They would walk on eggshells in his presence as if they could predict an oncoming outburst. But you knew better, you knew him.
He was angry at the world, yes. But he was distraught with himself... his own mind. It ran a mile a minute and gave absolutely zero reprieve. Anyone could see that if they dug just a bit deeper, looked at him a little closer.
Sure he was strong and burly; a true beast of a man, but he was also quiet and thoughtful. He cared so deeply about others that it frightened him to his core. All he wanted was to protect his family and do right by them.
And you saw all of that.
You had for years now and it only made your desire for him stronger. You wanted to thank him. Drop down to your knees and worship every freckle and scar that made him, him. He deserved it, deserved an escape.
Initially, you thought maybe he wasn't into that and preferred to keep his relationships asexual, to which you were perfectly happy to abide by. Any time spent with him was cherished time in your eyes. But during a sleep-deprived chat with Carol one night on patrol, long ago, you had found out he did have a few sexual encounters before the apocalypse. Just none that had truly meant much to him, or that he was entirely sober for.
That small bit of insight helped you understand the man so much more and you carefully dropped your hints from that point on. However, with your luck, every time you thought something might happen between you two, the moment would slip right through your aching fingers, dusted away by whatever imminent danger lurked behind each corner.
To be quite honest, you were getting fed up with the world's continuous cruel jokes, and from the looks of things, Daryl could use a healthy distraction right about now.
Ears perking at the familiar rumble you'd grown to love, you watched as he pulled up on his trusty, beaten-up Nighthawk, finally returning from a longer visit at Hilltop. You could see the sheen layer of sweat built up above his furrowed brows, his teeth nibbling away at his lower lip - an anxious habit you had picked up on mere days after meeting him.
His mind was bothering him. That much was clear.
He shuffled quickly to his tent, gaze transfixed on the muddy shoes he wore, avoiding any onlookers who wanted to ask their silly questions, throwing the flaps open, and disappearing in a fluster.
You knew better than to bother him now, give him some time to gather his thoughts and decompress. You whittled away at your spears, biding the time as you devised a plan on how you would approach him. After all, the last thing you wanted was to scare him off or embarrass him in any way. He was reserved when it came to these situations, unsure of himself. The few times you had brushed lips or touched him a bit heatedly, he was jumpy and almost insecure, as if he needed instructions on how he should behave. It was extremely endearing to you; like a stray pup who just needed a little reassurance and affection to calm his fierce walls of doubt.
It was almost dusk when you finished with your spears, gathering them up and placing them near some of the other weapons the community used when needed. You scanned the grounds, noticing everyone collected by the fire, dishing up for a late dinner. You quickly made your way over, grabbing two portions and slipping away before you were noticed and stopped for conversation. You knew Daryl wouldn't get one for himself, spew some excuse that 'he wasn't hungry' or was 'too tired' when really, he just didn't want to take away from another. Even if that meant he didn't eat or drink anything for days at a time. It made your heart blister for more reasons than one.
You balance both plates on your left arm, reaching to pull the flaps open slowly, not wanting to startle him with your arrival, "Dar? You asleep?" you whisper into the dim den.
You hear a grunt, some shuffling, and in a moment a soft glow fills the area as he lights a nearby lamp, perching up on his small cot, "I was."
Flicking off your boots, you zip the entrance closed behind you, "I brought you some dinner, figured you'd be hungry after your trip," You smile and he mutters a quiet thanks, opting to accept your kind offer rather than argue with you, he knew you wouldn't take no for answer anyway. He scoots to the side, creating a spot for you to sit while you two eat in comfortable silence. He liked that you didn't feel the need to fill the air, that you could simply enjoy each other's company without all the small talk. You were one of the few people he'd met in his life, who just inherently understood him, down to the most basic level. He hated leaving you all the time like he had been, just another thing to nag at his over-exhausted mind.
Hearing him sigh quietly, you cast your eyes over, watching as he scrapes up the remaining crumbs off his plate, placing it outside the tent along with yours for you both to deal with in the morning.
"I imagine your pretty tired, huh?" You ask, following his movements as he plops down again beside you.
"Nah, not really. Got a few hours 'fore ya came bustin' in here," he grumbles with a small smirk and you lean into him nudging his shoulder playfully. "Why ya wanna chat or somethin'?"
You consider him for a minute, trying to find the proper words to initiate what was truly on your mind. You knew you had no reason to be nervous. That even though you'd never labeled anything between you guys, you both felt it. Knew it was there. You just needed the right moment. Now was as good a time as any, you figured.
"No, I just- I wanna try something."
He nods his head for you to continue, so you scoot closer, placing your hand delicately on his shoulder and bringing your face centimeters from his. You stop just before you close the gap, gauging his reaction. His breath hitches slightly and you feel his pulse rapid under your fingertips, but he doesn't pull away. Taking that as the only confirmation you'll get, you press your lips to his softly, brushing your thumb against his stubbly, pink cheek. He takes a good minute to respond, carefully moving his lips back against yours and placing his hands on your hips. You feel him squeeze, eliciting a quiet moan of encouragement from you and he all but sinks into your touch, falling into a comfortable rhythm with your lips. You stay like that for a while, breathing in his piney scent and relishing in his gentle kneads at your waist. It wasn’t much to the untrained eye, but you knew that was his way of pouring his affection into you without so many words. His way of telling you he was yours.
You drag your kisses down his neck, nibbling and sucking at the salty flesh between his collarbones. His breaths grow uneven and you can feel him begin to tense again, unused to such personal attention, "Is this okay?" You ask, not wanting to push him past his boundaries. He only nods in response, his throat feeling like the Sahara.
He has to admit, he's thought about this many times, relieved himself to thoughts of you too many times to count over the years. He's just never known how to approach you about it, scared you'd reject him or he'd do something wrong.
He watches as you slip to your knees before him, your eyes glued to his. "You'll let me know if you want me to stop, yeah?" As he tries to nod in response again, you stop him, "I need you to say it to me," You press.
"Y-yea, I'll say somethin'," he whispers timidly and you grin, beginning to unbuckle his belt and slip his raged jeans down. You kiss down his strong thighs, feeling them tremble slightly beneath you. His hard-on is poking through his boxers and you drag your lips across it, placing soft pecks down the length of him, listening to his breathy pants. You didn't realize how turned on you'd be, having him all flushed and needy for you, but god were you enjoying it. Slipping your fingers into the waistband, you tug them down and his cock springs free, precum leaking from the pretty, pink tip.
"You dun have'ta," he mutters, anxiety sweeping over him fast, even though he really, really does want to. You catch his gaze, noticing how dark his stormy eyes have gotten.
"Let me take care of you, sweetheart," you reply, pressing soft kisses from the base to tip, feeling him pulse under your touch. You enclose your mouth around him, taking almost his entire length at once and you hear a guttural groan from above you, his knuckles white from the clutch they had on the bedsheets.
You wondered if he had ever had a woman go down on him before. Judging by the gasps and twitches he was emitting, if he had, it hadn't been for a very long time.
He bucks into you, searching in a daze for more friction, and you pin his hips down, earning a deep whine from him. You knew if he wanted to, he could easily overpower you, use your mouth to his heart's content, but he wouldn't. He wanted you to take charge. Needed it.
Raking your eyes over his heaving figure, you slide your tongue along his shaft, moving in slow, sensual circles as you bob up and down. Daryl's head is tossed back, eyes screwed shut and you can tell he won't last much longer. The sensitivity of not being touched in so long, sprinting towards him at full speed. You pull back, slowing your movements. He lifts his head off the wall, pale blue eyes blown to darkness as he watches you take him so sweetly, "Please," He whispers.
When you shake your head, humming a soft, "Not yet," as best you can around him, his eyes roll back into his skull, entirely overwhelmed by the overstimulation, but loving it nonetheless. "I-I can't," He gasps, his accent muddled even stronger in his lustful state. You have to squeeze your legs tighter, clenching around nothing hearing your man so utterly wrecked beneath you. You want to draw it out for hours. Have him begging you to let him cum down your awaiting throat. However, you decide you both have waited damn long enough to prolong your union even more.
Releasing him with a soft kiss to his leaking tip, you stand in front of him, shimmying out of your clothes as quickly as you can. "Lay down for me, baby,' You direct, moving the straddle him as he eagerly follows your orders, turning lengthwise on the makeshift bed. His eyes never leave yours as you sit down on him, groaning when he feels how wet you are pressed against his cock. "Have you thought about this before, pretty boy?" His cheeks flush crimson at your sultry compliments, nodding curtly whilst avoiding your stare.
"Dar." You press.
You were being so gentle yet stern with him it was making it brain fuzzy, all stressors from the day long washed away to be replaced by only you.
"Have, yeah," He huffs in embarrassment, trying with great difficulty not to portray how truly turned on your words were making him. But you saw right through him... or rather felt him. You lean forward, kissing and nipping up his neck to the shell of his pink ears, "Do you want me to stop?"
A full-body shiver jolts through him when he feels your warm breath against his ear, involuntarily rolling his hips into yours and you chuckle at his obvious sensitivity. He knows he needs to use his words. You won't be letting him off that easy. "Please don't," Is all he manages and it seems to do the trick. You grip his length, tracing it along your soaked folds, and slowly sink down. Your careful as you take in his reaction, scanning his expression for any signs of discomfort. He bites his lip, his eyes squeezed shut and lets out a muffled groan.
"Fuck," He mumbles, and you're surprised to hear him say anything you didn't need to pry out of him. A positive sign, you determined and start to bounce your hips slowly, creating a synchronized dance between your bodies. Your body is buzzing as you ride him, finally feeling the dull ache you’ve had for the man below you begin to dissipate as he whimpers oh so softly for only you to hear. His hands grip your waist hard enough to leave bruises to find in the morning, but you hardly give it a second thought. All you can think about is Daryl. His closeness, his warmth and strength, and-
He tenses beneath you, broken gasps leaving his chewed lips and suddenly he’s lifting you off of him, soaking your thighs and abdomen completely. You gawk as you watch him come down, sworn you haven’t ever seen something so fucking sexy in your life. His head tossed back, jumbled curses leaving his mouth, and dark auburn hair dripping with sweat. You don’t care that he finished before you, this was about him. But you see his eyes snap to yours when he fully comes back down to reality, cheeks blazing for a different reason than before.
Leaning towards him, you capture his lips with your own, tenderly pouring your affection into him, needing him to know you weren’t upset, “It’s okay, relax,” you whisper against him with a soft smile, leaning your forehead onto his. His eyes are filled with guilt, “I mean it, Dar,” And he’s back to his nods of response.
He didn’t need any more words of sympathy. He knew you were happy as a kid on Christmas, he just needed to accept it for himself. So with one last peck to his cherry lips, you slide off him, grab a rag to clean yourself up with, and scoot right in beside him, craving his warmth. He turns to you quickly, grabbing your waist and pulling you impossibly closer to him, burying his head into the crook of your neck. You feel a few soft pecks from him along your jaw and you sigh contentedly, wrapping your limbs around his, reeling in your post-coital glow.
You were safe, snuggled with your love, and that was all you needed.
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chahnniesroom · 8 months ago
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to have and to hold
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pairing: bang chan x female reader
summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.
word count: 1.4k
warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!
a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all
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“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?” 
Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.
Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.
“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”
“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.
“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”
“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.
“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”
“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.” 
“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”
“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”
“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”
Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.
Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.
Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach. 
When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.
“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.
“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”
Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.
Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball, some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.
He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.
“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.
Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.
“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”
“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”
Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.
“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”
He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.
It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.
“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”
By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.
Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.
When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal. 
After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.
Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.
When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.
That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck. 
“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”
“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”
“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
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996 notes · View notes
jeongharine · 8 months ago
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syntax ERROR: the right formula
⚝ wonwoo x reader
⚝ comedy, smut
⚝ notes: you and wonwoo decide to take the thing between you on level two. but no one has to know about it. you would rather die than to have someone figure out about your sexual escapades with the local nerdy fuckboy. it is an ego thing. (part i)
(thanks to everyone who read and liked part one, i’ve never received such an amount of likes for something that i posted <3 i hope you will like this part as well, it is a bit longer but i had a little fun in writing some teasing ooof enjoy it, have a good early summer period and stay safe x)
“can you actually believe that, y/n? he ghosted me for i don’t know three weeks, and then he had the nerve to ask for a tit pic,” nabi sighs, taking a sip from her blue-ish drink.
“you know what? i’m so done with men. all of them. we really ar- are you even listening to me?” 
you are caught off guard by the clicking of her fingers in front of your eyes. truth is, you are only half present, the other half of you is scanning the whole floor, trying to see if there’s a certain someone amongst the agglomeration of bodies. 
“yeah, sure, sorry,” you apologize, leaning your side against the wall. “i was somewhere else for a second. you were saying that he ghosted you?”
“i’m never talking to him again. or any man.” “hm,” you hum, crossing your arms. you actaully don’t know who she is trying to convince at this point, because that must’ve been the fifth time you heard your friend giving you that speech (during that semester alone). 
“really, i don’t know why those guys haven’t been thrown out of the campus yet. they’re a hazard, including your brother from what i’ve heard. sorry. but yeah, they’re a threat to public health,”
you shrug, because honestly you don’t care that much about their business. and that is important to keep it low.
“could be worse, though, i could be one of the poor girls getting fucked by one of them in their spare time,” 
oh. 
you giggle, a little nervous. “yeah, yeah,” you agree, looking back at the mass of students. “yeah, that’d be totally awful.” 
“i couldn’t even count on my fingers the amount of girls that had one night stands with one of them, and somehow proceeded in becoming completely whipped and infatuated, only to be told that they don’t ‘fuck the same person twice’. like… what the fuck is that? who do they think they are? sorry that your brother is involved in this discourse, but he’s kind of a prick,”  
you laugh, noticing the tinge of red that covers her cheeks. “you sound really drunk,” 
“i’m not bullshitting you. they’re pricks and that’s on period,” 
she raises her cup in a silent cheer, and took another sip. “i know you’re not involved in the fuckboy thing that plagues this campus and, honestly, you’re better off that way. but trust me when i say that they aren’t worth the headache,” 
with an inattentive nod, you take another peek at the strangers filling the space near you. “i believe you, don’t worry. i know my thing or two,” 
the worst part? you do. 
and the even worse bit? there are two things wrong with what she has just told you. 
number one: yes, they could be kind of jerks sometimes. but they aren’t completely soulless, at least some of them. they are fun to be around, actually, when picked alone and not in group, or when they are not trying to impress someone into sleeping with them.
number two: they fuck the same person twice, if feeling like it. at least wonwoo. and you know that because you’ve been fucking him on and off for the past five months or so. 
when you first met him, you weren’t exactly after a “secret friends with benefits” relationship. you just needed a math tutor. but long story short, you didn’t expect to fall victim to his charms, melting under his tender kisses, moaning his name as he rolled his hips against you, edging your orgasm for longer than you can hold it. and you surely didn’t expect to like it as much as you do. 
truth is: jeon wonwoo is everything, but he isn’t dumb. he knows that he is attractive and smart as hell - he knows that with his voice so silky and deep just saying the right words is enough to have you in bed with him, and he knows how to use the two things very well. 
apart from also corrupting you in games hours.
also, you are human, alright? and there is something extremely tempting about sleeping with your brother best friend, especially when he keeps coming back to you. it’s only nature to want to feel special every once in a while. 
again: it is an ego thing. 
plus no one ever caught you. not nabi or any of your other friends. as far as you are aware, wonwoo’s group doesn’t know a thing either, which makes you appreciate him even more because you don’t know how hoshi could take this.  
so yeah, he isn’t a total douchebag. he has the most basic sense of loyalty. 
x
with a sigh, you push your body away from the wall, fumbling with your purse. you are praying that- oh there he fucking is. 
the moment that you see wonwoo, sitting on the couch across from you, you forget how to breathe for a moment. 
he looks better than you had anticipated: dressed in all black, with his thighs spread across the seat, ready to be fucked right then and there. his dark long hair is parted in the middle, with a few stubborn strands falling over his angelic features, as his gaze navigates around the room, staring at nothing in particular.
next to him, there is another one of his friends, seokmin, talking about something animatedly but wonwoo is paying no attention. 
his expression is one of irritation, you notice, with his thick eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenching. but when his gaze falls on you, however, wonwoo’s perceived annoyance instantly dissipates. 
you watch as his eyes meet your own, then he trails down your body with desire, stopping around the level of your thighs for a bit longer than you have predicted. 
you know that stare awfully well: it is the same one that he gives you when he sees you around campus, or in the pc-bang when you’re winning or when you actually understand the concepts that he’s teaching you. the silent provocation that tells you, and only you, that he really wants to have some alone time right now. 
a tricky smirk sprouts at the corner of his lips, and he leans back against the couch. you follow his movements as he reaches towards his pocket and extracts his phone, staring at you as he does so. he unlocks it, taking a final glance at your expectant features before he starts to type something.
[00:23] wonu: so glad to see that you came  
[00:23] wonu: will you do me a favour and meet me in the bathroom upstairs? second door to the right ;) 
and what can you do when he’s asking it like this? you take the stairs and you wonder, as you open your way through the crowd of sweaty bodies and spilling drinks, if you aren’t trying too hard to rationalize and catastrophize something that is actually very simple. 
a story with a beginning, a middle part, and a satisfying ending: you two want to fuck each other, you do, then you move right forward. no hidden feelings, no strings attached. that’s it. couldn’t get any better than that. 
but maybe, it isn’t everything about that, and you know it. it is also about overhearing the other girls talking as you make your way upstairs, complaining about how ridiculously hot and pretty he is. it is about having that steamy, trembling secret between the two of you. it is about knowing that yeah, wonwoo is crazy hot and smart and funny and you can have that whenever you want.
x
just like the calm before the storm, there is a moment of quietness and stillness between the instant of when you lock the door, and the one when you see him. 
as you turn around, dwelling in his proximity, you think about a million things at the same time: about teasing him for his location choice, or maybe about how he must’ve been going through a drought, if he has to count on his covert booty call to get laid at a party. 
before you can say anything, wonwoo’s lips are on yours, attacking your mouth in a fervorous kiss. you whimper in surprise as he pushes you against the closed bathroom door, his hands circling your waist as he squeezes your body against his. your purse falls on the ground with a muffled sound, but you barely even notice it. 
it is something else, really. tonight, he’s kissing you as if he physically can’t contain himself long enough to do anything else - as if all that he can think of doing is to feel the heavenly contact of your mouth against his, while your fingers pull strands of his hair.
as he invites his tongue inside your mouth, wonwoo groanes and lowers his hands, squeezing your ass like he is about to lose every last ounce of sanity he has left in him. you sigh as he moves his focus onto your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses. 
“someone’s excited,” you comment, slightly breathless. the only response you get is another groan, and the rolling of his hips against your inner thigh where you can feel his dick, already semi-hard, pressing. 
“couldn’t even bother to take me somewhere else,” 
“i just needed to have you now. have you seen how hot you are?” his voice comes out muffled against your skin, the reverberations of his timbre propagating directly towards your core. 
“i see you’re starting to get more adventurous with this,” you bite down on your lower lip and he sucks your flesh, groping your ass once again. “parties and nights out used to be so off limits to you.” 
wonwoo chuckles against your neck, moving back towards your mouth. he starts making out with you again, his breath hot and heavy against your face, and you start to think how you could very well pass out seen the level of craving building inside of you. 
“i changed my mind.” he speaks as he leans back. 
you smirk at his attitude. “we’ll end up getting caught,” 
“aw, baby,” he pouts, looking at you with artificial pity. “are you afraid your brother is going to find out?”
okay, he can be kind of a prick sometimes. 
“so i can leave, then?” you raise one eyebrow, fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck. 
“you can, the door is right behind you. you know i’m not one to insist,” wonwoo tells you, quickly losing interest in this part of the conversation. “but something tells me you won’t.” 
you don’t even try to respond, because there is nothing to be said: both of you know what you are doing there, and the idea of walking out is just too ridiculous to consider. 
with a suspire, you watch as wonwoo moves his lips down your chest, stopping at the fabric of your blouse. 
“what if someone hears us?” you suddenly remember, heartbeat quickening at the thought. 
“what is it?” he asks as his fingers work on your buttons, exposing more of your chest. the slow pace of his is going to kill you one of these days. 
“you’re worried that people are going to find out about this? about us? when you’re always begging to be fucked in the room next to your brother’s one or when there’s someone at my dorm?” 
you open your mouth to respond but his chuckle, so deep and melodious, catches you off guard. 
“how scandalous, right? you are not the pure little thing you make yourself to be,” wonwoo continues, finally opening your blouse and fully exposing your bra to him. he hums with delight. “red lace? you really want to tease me,” 
you swallow dry as he takes the blouse off your shoulders and gently places it beside the sink, above a towel. he can be so thoughtful and gentle. 
“wonu, i-“ “you’re such a little brat sometimes, you know that?” he interrupts, eyes following his own movements as his hands circle your body, moving to unclasp your bra. and of course he gets it right on the first try. 
“you came all the way up here just to get fucked, and now you’re worried that people are going to know about it,” you stare him down, a smirk already creeping up in the corner of your lips. 
“how does that make me a brat?” 
he smiles. “don’t try to to play the naive card on me,” another agile movement of his fingers and your bra joins your blouse besides the sink. 
wonwoo sighs deeply at your exposed breasts, trying to imprint that sight into the back of his mind. “pretending as if you don’t know exactly what you’re doing. you can drop the act now, y/n,” “i don’t-“ his mouth attacking you is all that you needed to shut up and let him do what he wants really.
overwhelmed by the sensation, you let out a gasp as his hand squeezes you, playing with you as he moans against your skin. 
“i love it so much,” he hums, moaning at the marvelous sensation of your warm skin against his tongue. you were almost forgetting how much wonwoo aches to play with your tits - not that you are complaining. 
“and i love that it’s all for me,” he breathes out before placing kisses again.
you whimper at the contact, arching your back in a failed attempt to get closer to him. as much as you know he is most likely to just say whatever he thinks would turn you on, wonwoo’s words expand inside your chest, building a heat that seems to suffocate you. even if you know it is bullshit, maybe not all of it, you like to be called his. ego strokes and all of that. 
“wonu…” there is only a thin wooden door separating you two from the outside world, and at the moment you can’t care less if they hear you calling out his name. the guy really does wonders to your anxiety. 
but he also likes to tease you. 
he moves away from your breasts and you almost, almost, cry out in frustration. but wonwoo starts to trace kisses back to your neck, then to your jawline. and you feel like you’re going crazy with all that back and forth.
“i’m not gonna lie, i understand where you’re coming from,” he says. “i like to keep this as a secret too. it’s so hot.” 
you almost forget how to inhale when he aligns his face with yours, placing a peck on your swollen lips. “yeah?” you ask, sounding as if you are in a daydream. 
“yeah,” he agrees, breathless. 
even if wonwoo tries his best to look as if he’s under total control, you know that he can’t keep that front for too long. he is clearly turned on, and the hardness pressing against your thigh is all of the proof that you need. he
even if wonwoo tries his best to look as if he’s under total control, you know that he can’t keep that front for too long. he is clearly turned on, and the hardness pressing against your thigh is all of the proof that you need. he’s close to get too worked up.
“it’s so great to know that i have one of the sexiest nerdy girls on campus just for myself…” his hand trails up your thighs, adventuring in the lands beneath your skirt. “and no one knows.”
you bite your lower lip, anticipating the contact of his hand against your core. “what’s so tempting about it?” you ask. 
he smiles. “ah… many things,”
your stare doesn’t vacillate. “i’d like an example,” 
instead of answering you straight away, wonwoo decides to take his sweet time. he leans his head to the side and kisses you feverishly, growing satisfied with the the small whimpers and breaths that echoes in between your mouths. his hands are all over you: on your ass, your waist, down your thighs and up your hips, where his eyes can not see. you only have your skirt and your panties on, and it is so frustrating to still feel him fully dressed against you. 
at last, he pulls away, placing his forehead against yours. as he speaks, you feel the tingle of his hands as they move towards the hem of your panties. 
“i like seeing you walk around campus, knowing that you’re sore from the night before,” he speaks slowly, his voice in a low vibration against your mouth. “and i know you don’t tell any of your friends about it. about how i fucked you so good that you almost cried,” 
you hum, closing your eyes. “what else?”
much to your dismay, his hands leave your underwear again, coming out to pull you closer. “when you send me those audios late at night,” he’s breathing out hard then, drowning in those lewd memories. “crying out my name… ” he stops and takes a big breath. “how am i supposed to say no to that? so there i go, out the door, telling your brother that i’m going to the library to study, instead of saying that i’m going to see his crazy hot sister and that i’m going to fuck her…” he hesitates. “and i just get this… adrenaline rush because he and my other friends don’t know it’s you.” 
“and how do you know that i like any of it?” you tease. 
wonwoo snickers at your question. both of you know that it is plastered all over your face, but he can keep up with that little teasing if you want to. 
“two reasons,” he says. “first: you do the same to me, or don’t you?” 
“i don’t recall,” you respond, forging innocence. okay, maybe you do like to play the naive part. 
“oh no? what a terrible memory you have, i see why you do badly in exams when you don’t study with me. now, let me remind you,” he places a strand of your hair behind your ear, his words hitting your skin in heated, libidinous waves. wonwoo is so close that you can count his eyelashes if you want to, his torso squeezed so tight against yours that you wonder how you even manage to breathe in this position. 
“it was just last week, babe. you called me to your flat after your roommate had left,” one of his hands goes back to play with the hem of your underwear, fingertips feeling like sparks against your skin. 
“you got so horny with just the thought of having me, isn’t that right?” much to your surprise, your voice comes out a lot more steady than you have expected. “don’t flatter yourself, you don’t know that.”
wonwoo laughs, placing his warm, swollen lips against the skin of your neck. “i don’t,” he agrees, digits pressing against your clothed area. 
you know he feels how wet your panties have become, so there’s no reason to keep that up. regardless, you kind of like it. 
“but i do remember how much you wanted me that night. how many times did i fuck you that night? and you just had to keep quiet, because your neighbours could have been catching something. that was so cute,” 
you sigh, your insides in knots over the tension you are sustaining. you hate him sometimes. hate how good he is. “i wasn’t counting.” 
“i know,” he swiftly pulls the fabric of your underwear to the side. 
“and this right here, this is the second reason. look at this,” his digits move, teasing you and you have to suppress a moan. “you’re always ready. i love that. you’re so good to me.” 
god, you are so close to lose it.
“so quiet all of a sudden,” his nose delicately trails up your neck, his mouth meeting the angle of your jaw in open kisses. in an attempt to ground yourself, your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging through his t-shirt. you can still feel wonwoo’s fingers playing. you hate him. or not. you don’t know. 
“i know i leave you speechless, sometimes, but i wan to hear you too,” 
strong and steady, his other hand meets the curvature of your waist, pressing your body against his.
“nothing? y/n, you’re especially irresistible tonight,” his eyes are somewhat dazed, unfocused and hooded. he appears as if he’s two seconds away from fucking you raw against the wall, and you seriously wouldn’t mind at this point. 
“you know why i called you here?” “because you want to fuck me,” you respond without missing a beat. 
“i do, of course,” he places his forehead against yours, and you whimper. 
“and the best part is that no one will even know it,” he continues. against your best judgement, your knees are getting weaker by the minute, the knot in your abdomen about to untie.
“just you and i. just the two of us will know how much you begged.” 
“wonu,” you call out, hands tangling themselves in the roots of his silky hair. you whisper out his name again, your voice coming out in such a promiscuous tone. 
god, wonwoo loves hearing the effect he has on you. 
x
maybe jeon wonwoo does also have a golden dick. 
above you, he smirks at the sensation of your mouth around his thumb, his other hand coming to place small caresses on your hair. after he removes his thumb from your mouth, you get back to your feet. it swiftly crosses your mind that your legs might give out eventually but, thankfully, they seem a bit more firm than what you have anticipated. 
“better?” you ask. 
“perfect.” wonwoo kisses you, sighing against your mouth. he pulls away gradually, his body still moving a bit slow.
“you always are.” 
“aw, how nice of you,” you smile at his compliment, walking towards your pile of clothes. “always with the compliments.” 
he hums in agreement, watching your naked body - your fingers holding that red bra he adores so much. “do we have any lesson programmed this week?” 
an incredulous laugh ruptures your lips as you clasp your bra behind your back. 
“we just had sex, and you’re already thinking about studying time?” 
he shruggs. “i like to have a schedule,” 
“i don’t actually remember, but we can game at mine wednesday,” your skirt moves up your legs, all the way up to your waistline. from the corner of your eyes, you can see wonwoo fumbling with his own jeans, which he now curses for being inside out. 
“can you pass me some toilet paper?” you ask him, eager to clean the mess between your legs. there’s no way you are going to put your panties back on, even if the thought of going commando isn’t exactly the most welcoming either. 
wonwoo is sitting on the toilet lid, putting his jeans back, and simply nods in agreement before doing so. “i’d like to know, though,” he insists.
you smile, taking a cheeky glance at him. “oh, so you are needy. since when you’re so needy?” 
he groans. “i’m not needy, shut up.” the sound of his zipper closing echoes inside the cubicle. 
“well, you can have this as a memory, if you’d like.” 
you throw your red panties at him, watching as his face grows interested at the piece of cloth in his hands. wonwoo sighs, tugging his t-shirt back inside his pants. 
“you’re killing me,” he complains. “good.” you smile, turning back at him. “how do i look? presentable?” 
he examins you for an instant, taking in the details of your form. “it doesn’t look like you just got fucked, if that’s what you’re asking,” 
“great!” you swirl around, “have a nice night, wonu. and don’t get too excited with the panties,” 
wonwoo gets up and walks closer to you, your underwear safely guarded in his hands. you are positive he’s going to have fun with it later. “you’re going home already?” he asks. 
“yeah, you did a good job at making me tired,” the clicking of the lock is a pleasant reminder that no one tried to open the door during your alone time.
wonwoo chuckles, leaning closer to you and he places a kiss on your forehead. 
“good night, then. thanks for the panties,” you laugh. “you’re welcome.” 
x
the building is glowing in the most diverse colours from the outside, and the sound of the music is like a distant pulse.
you watch, heart clenching inside of your chest, as wonwoo steps out of the front door with hoshi and seokmin - his head hanging low and a smile at the corner of his lips. 
there is a volume in his front pocket, where you are sure he has tugged in your panties.
“i think that we should go home and sleep. but let’s keep this conversation on hold,” wonwoo cuts off the conversation. seokmin, however, isn’t satisfied. 
“you know that i’ll find out eventually,” he says, trying not to trip while walking. 
“i always do. and hoshi knows it well.” 
hoshi laughs, meeting wonwoo’s eyes. on the other side of the street, you and nabi take the opposite direction, having wonwoo to turn his head quickly at you. 
“wonu-yah, i think you should give those lacy panties hanging off your pocket back to my sister tomorrow,”
“what-” “oh fuck!” a tomato red face wonwoo grabs them, while seokmin trips and nearly cries out loud in the middle of the street.
472 notes · View notes
lovelyhan · 2 years ago
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— favorite poison ⟢
pairing: wonwoo x reader
summary: no strings attached sex is easy. catching feelings for a person you supposedly hate is hard. it's in times like this when wonwoo wishes he can set the dial to his life on easy mode forever, but everyone knows he's nothing if not stubbornly competitive.
word count: 15.5k words
tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, attempt at humor, in denial!wonwoo, angst, smut
warnings: mentions of twitter porn, brief discussions of past trauma, slut shaming, mild violence (wonwoo punches someone in the face), graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)
notes: this is the sequel to underlying pretense! thank you so much for waiting so so patiently for this second part! big thank you to @playmetheclassics for proofreading this monster sequel for me >< i wouldn't have done this without you, indi UEUEUE
this is part of the game over series!
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smut tags: implied semi-public sex, game chair sex? jealousy, clothed sex, use of handcuffs, brief spanking, car sex, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, degradation, dirty talk, daddy kink, hard and soft dom wonwoo, creampie, cum eating, aftercare
svt taglist: @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @tommolex
wonwoo taglist: @renjunphile - @acgyu - @potatofrieswithketchup - @pluviophile-xxx - @pretty-trustme
fic taglist: @appachicken - @bekah931215
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part one - part two - part three - part four
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“So when are you introducing me?” 
The buzz of visitors inside the convention hall is already grating enough as it is, but when Mingyu walks over to Wonwoo’s designated booth, all it does is irritate him further.
He doesn’t exactly have to do anything aside from receive gifts from the viewers coming to pay him a visit and take a few photos with them, but Wonwoo is yet to accustom himself to being the center of attraction in front of so many people. So listening to his roommate-slash-best friend asking him stupid questions isn’t helping his case.
“To who? My family?” Wonwoo scoffs. 
Mingyu rolls his eyes. “No. Your girlfriend, genius.”
“What the hell are you even talking about?”
His best friend pouts, and Wonwoo is having a really tough time taking him seriously because Mingyu is wearing one of those hats with bunny ears that flop around if you press the buttons dangling from the front. “You’re always scampering off with some girl from time to time. The others haven’t noticed, but I’m your roommate, hyung.”
Roughly three months have passed since Wonwoo bit the bullet and agreed to be your…fuck buddy? Not-so-friend with benefits? Whatever this arrangement is called, he’s satisfied with getting to let off steam every once in a while, and you don’t seem to have any complaints as long as he fucked you stupid and helped you make filthy content for all the world to see. 
Honest to god, it’s a miracle how shit hasn’t hit the fan yet. But then again, you and Wonwoo were both careful and extremely selective about what gets posted on your secret Twitter porn account and what stays tucked away in the hidden galleries in your phones. That sort of cautiousness is rewarded with having to get away with everything you’re both daring enough to pull off behind the scenes.
Still, it doesn’t change the fact that, outside his sexual relations with you, Twitch streamers everyone_woo and Koyahngi pretty much hate each other’s guts. Even if yours is the best fucking pussy he’s ever had (something you’ll never catch him dead admitting aloud), he’s not about to do a complete one-eighty and treat you any differently in front of his friends and followers. You don’t seem to have any plans on doing that either.
Wonwoo hasn’t once brought you to their shared apartment, so he’s certain that Mingyu is basing all his hunches on pure intuition alone. And just because that intuition turns out to be somewhat right (PSA: you’re not his girlfriend) doesn’t mean Wonwoo has to come clean about his goings-on.
Besides, they’re at a fucking convention. Why is Mingyu trying to hotseat him now? 
“What gave you the impression that I’m ‘scampering off’ with just one girl?” Wonwoo smirks, shaking his head. 
“Whatever you say, elusive gamer who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman that isn’t his mom.”
“Fuck you. You know that’s not true.”
“Well, obviously, you’re smitten with someone, and once I find out who it is, I’m throwing the biggest party in Seoul,” Mingyu says with a huff of indignance coloring his words. He says it like it’s a threat, and Wonwoo makes a face at him. 
“Why?” he asks with a scowl.
“Because I love you, that’s why.” Mingyu then takes off the stupid hat and places it on top of Wonwoo’s head—even putting the work into making sure it fits and everything. “Anyway, I’m heading to Koyahngi’s booth to say hi. You wanna come with, or do you still have a stick up your ass when it comes to hanging out with her?”
Wonwoo has to keep himself from blurting out how he’s not the one with anything up his ass when it comes to you but realizes that if he wants to get Mingyu off his back, he probably shouldn’t make traumatizing allusions to his sex life. 
“I can’t exactly leave my spot until the main program starts. The same goes for you, idiot,” Wonwoo points out. “Who knows how many of your subscribers are looking for you at your booth? Go away and tend to them first.”
Mingyu pouts again, but since his best friend is a guy that’s literally a six-foot wall of muscle, Wonwoo doesn’t feel even an ounce of sympathy for him. “I haven’t even been gone for ten minutes! I just wanted to see how my friends are doing.”
“Then you shouldn’t have set up a booth at all, Gyu.” 
“Hmph. You’re always so stingy, hyung.” Mingyu crosses his arms before turning on his heel. “Anyway, I’m heading over to Koyahngi’s. I heard she’s cosplaying Sage today. Not that you care, though.”
He sounds so genuinely sulky that Wonwoo would’ve laughed a little as Mingyu stomps away to head to your booth. But the mention of you dressing up as a Valorant agent that Wonwoo has started to despise since meeting you makes a couple of memories from earlier this week resurface in his mind. 
Aside from the catgirl gimmick, your cosplays are but another selling point for your streams. You dubbed it the catgirlification of every playable character I like right after Wonwoo railed you two days ago in that same Sage cosplay that Mingyu just mentioned. 
What a fucking weirdo, Wonwoo mused for a second before blowing your back out again, not five minutes later.
About an hour later, the program on the main stage was in full swing, and Wonwoo had just finished doing a little segment with Soonyoung that one of the fans who won a raffle requested for them to do. It was a Pocky Game that got a little too intense because Soonyoung wouldn’t stop fucking squirming, and they nearly kissed in front of the entire audience. Wonwoo doesn’t entirely mind because PR is PR, after all.
The thing he does end up minding, though, comes a little later—after the convention hall settles into a more relaxed atmosphere and everyone is back to booth-hopping. 
Despite what he told Mingyu earlier, Wonwoo took it upon himself to do some wandering around. It’s kind of nice to see other streamers and content creators he’s only ever got to interact with on Discord or their respective streams.
But while he’s munching on a cherry-shaped cookie that Seungcheol is handing out to his visitors, the bane of his existence swoops down on him just when he thought he could finish this entire event in peace.
“Hey, daddy,” you giggle into his ear before swiping the cookie out of his hands, tossing it into your mouth without a second thought. “Didn’t think I’d get to see you today.”
Wonwoo clicks his tongue before shrugging off the arm you draped around his shoulder. “What do you want?”
“Nothing in particular,” you hum before swallowing the food you just stole from him. “But now that I got a taste of Cheol’s cherry cookies, I kinda want some more. Do you know where he is?” 
“I think I saw him flirting with a bunch of cosplayers near the stage.”
Wonwoo startles at the sound of a third party’s voice intruding in your conversation, and from the looks of it, you’re just as startled as he is. Turning around, though, his apprehension ebbs away when he recognizes who it is.
“Johnny,” he says with a small surprised smile before offering his hand for a casual shake. “It’s been a while.”
The famous streamer returns Wonwoo’s gesture gingerly, but he realizes that Johnny’s gaze isn’t trained on him at all. 
“It has been,” he chuckles before turning to you. “I didn’t know you were friends with Wonwoo, doll. How you got someone as cold as he is to warm up to you is beyond me, but at least you’re expanding your network.”
Wonwoo would’ve rolled his eyes. Johnny is just as frank as he remembers. But before Wonwoo can point out that: 1.) you and him are not friends, and 2.) he is not a cold person and therefore has absolutely no need to warm up to anyone, he quickly picks up on the sudden shift in the air. And it’s not his or Johnny’s discomfort he’s sensing right now. 
“Nah, you’ve got the wrong idea,” you respond to Johnny casually, but Wonwoo doesn’t miss how your fists are clenched at your sides. “Wonwoo would rather get banned from Twitch than call me his friend. I just like pissing him off every now and again, is all~ That, and his friends are pretty cool, so I need to tolerate him.”
Johnny laughs before reaching down to ruffle your carefully styled wig. To others, it would’ve looked like a display of casual affection between friends, but Wonwoo is keen enough to notice how you momentarily flinched from the older streamer’s touch. His brows knit together as he attempts to figure out what was going on.
Actually, how do you even know Johnny in the first place?
“Anyway, I’ll be going now,” he laughs before letting one eye drop into a wink. “It’s good to see both of you. Enjoy the rest of the convention, yeah?”
As Johnny exits, you’re a little too quick to fill in the silence he left.
“You’ve gotta take me to Cheol before he runs out of cookies,” you whine, tugging on his arm with a persistent look on his face—not even breathing a word about Johnny, as if it hasn’t been two minutes since he left. “I’m pretty sure I saw him wearing a Pikachu onesie, so he should be easy to—”
Wonwoo immediately cuts you off with a quick yank of your wrist. As he leads you to one of the unoccupied restrooms near the convention hall, your voice drones in annoyingly repetitive succession in his ears while you struggle to free yourself from his grip, but Wonwoo just won’t budge.
Not when he can’t get the sight of you with genuine fear in your gaze when you first laid your eyes on Johnny out of his head.
“Shit,” you whisper hoarsely the moment Wonwoo slams you against the door—a shit-eating grin resting haughtily on your lips as he nudges your thighs apart. “I knew you were possessive, but not this much. Johnny just gave me a few head pats, daddy. It doesn’t mean a thing.”
Yeah. Wonwoo is totally doing this out of some pathetic, alpha male need to stake his claim after another man got his grubby hands on you. Not because he was bothered by that look on your face and can’t think of any other way to help get your mind off it aside from fucking you senseless in a public bathroom.
“Shut up,” he murmurs before forcing your cheek against the cold door. “Now, take off your leggings before I tear a hole in them myself. Can’t mess up your perfect fucking Sage cosplay now, can we?”
You let out a noise caught between a sigh and a whimper as you do as you're told. From three months ago to now, your general opinion on Jeon Wonwoo as a dom has yet to change. Even if he was about to rail you with a fluffy bunny beanie still resting on top of his head.
He’s fucking perfect.
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Right after that unplanned quickie, Wonwoo is at least keen enough to observe his surroundings as both of you discreetly part ways and sneak back into the convention. Since the main events were taking place on the other side of the venue, not a lot of people were milling around, and he thankfully manages to blend into the crowd without rousing everyone’s suspicion. 
Well, almost everyone.
“You’re a pretty shitty actor; you know that?”
Wonwoo doesn’t have to turn around to recognize the smugness in Seungcheol’s tone. The moment he lays his eyes on one of his closest friends—still wearing that silly Pikachu onesie and giving out his cherry cookies—he knows he can’t weasel himself out of this conversation so easily. 
“What do you mean?” Wonwoo says, deciding to play along to gauge what Seungcheol does and doesn’t know.
The older man scoffs. “Come on, Wonwoo-yah. You weren’t being very discreet when you pulled our very good cat girl friend into the restroom. Doesn’t help that you both came out looking dishevelled as fuck. So much for hating each other, huh?” 
Okay. He has nothing left to hide then. Great.
“Were we that obvious?” Wonwoo lowers his voice into a whisper, and the only reason he’s genuinely asking is because Seungcheol isn’t the type to joke around about these kinds of things.
“Only to the eyes of someone who personally knows the both of you,” he snickers. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”
Wonwoo’s brows knit together, perplexed, but offers no more smart retorts. His heart is still pounding in his chest at the thought of having been seen with you. Fuck. He isn’t usually this careless. Then and there, he makes a mental note to not let his emotions pull the reins on his decisions next time.
“Thanks, hyung,” is all he tells Seungcheol in return. “I’m heading back. Uh, she was looking for you, by the way. Something about wanting more of your cookies.”
Seungcheol visibly perks up at the news, and Wonwoo has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. What is it with his friends and having some weird soft spot for you? 
As Wonwoo quietly slips back into his booth—greeting a bunch of his fans but not in a sociable mood—he recalls the prickle of heat in his chest when he saw how uncomfortable you were during that short conversation with Johnny. The memory makes his curiosity spike again, and he considers asking you about it the next time you invite him over.
But then he reminds himself that he does not have a soft spot for you unlike his friends. None at all. He’s just being a decent human being for having a modicum of concern because of how you reacted towards someone Wonwoo knows to be completely harmless. 
Aside  from the occasional NSFW spam on Twitter, Johnny’s pretty harmless, right?
“Hyung! Group pic, c’mon!” 
Wonwoo hears Mingyu call out to him several booths over and sighs. He probably shouldn’t put too much thought into something he won’t be able to figure out in the next five minutes anyway.
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The next time Wonwoo comes over to your apartment is to try out some new heart-shaped handcuffs you bought online. You wouldn’t stop gushing about it to him over text, and he has half the mind to just cuff you to the bed and leave because of how annoying you’re being.
But for some reason, the handcuffs lay forgotten on your unmade bed as Wonwoo sits right in front of your set-up—begrudgingly listening to your instructions as he attempts to solve an overworld puzzle in that stupid game you and Soonyoung kept pestering him to play. Genshin Impact, yeah, that’s the one. 
“You have to hit the purple towers with Electro attacks, idiot,” you sigh. “Dendro is for green towers. Hydro is for blue towers. Did you happen to skip kindergarten or something?”
“I thought elemental reactions applied to these, too,” he grumbles. “You’re the one who said that Dendro and Hydro are good with Electro.” 
“Yeah, yeah, keep making excuses, color dunce.”
Normally, Wonwoo wouldn’t have taken the insult lying down, but he stubbornly chooses to solve the puzzle until he’s finally unlocked the hidden desert area you claimed to be ‘too lazy to figure out right away’. A hint of smugness crosses his features as he flashes you a triumphant grin. Wonwoo half-expects you to just roll your eyes and blame his progress on dumb luck or something, but to his surprise, you clap your hands gleefully before placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek.
“Who’s my smart little gamer, huh?”
“Fuck off.”
It’s perfectly normal for him to hear you challenge his authority outside the bedroom. After all, you’ve made it your life’s mission to push all of Wonwoo’s buttons until he cracks and manhandles you in a way that leaves no room for your brattiness to slip out. Sometimes he likes to think that you rile him up on purpose because the so-called consequences end up rewarding you sexually tenfold instead. Which, Wonwoo thinks, is fucking sick, but from how much he lets you get away with it anyway, he figures that he’s got a few screws loose himself.
“Anyway, how about we check if you’ve got shit luck on gacha games or not,” you announce before nudging your customized gaming chair with your foot—the same one Wonwoo’s currently sitting on—so you can have better access to your mouse and keyboard. “Soonyoung’s luck is abysmal as hell. The only reason he’s got such a spiffy account is because of all those sponsors.”
Wonwoo scoffs. “Are you saying yours is any better?”
“Hey, I’ve got decent luck, mind you,” you huff before clicking a few times, and a new window pulls up on-screen, which Wonwoo recognizes as the wishing page. Soonyoung has shown it to him and the other guys enough times to remember what it looks like.
“Go on, just click the times ten button,” you urge him before tugging your gaming chair back to its original position. “It’s gonna let you wish for a character ten times, basically.”
“I know how gacha games work,” Wonwoo bites back.
“Of course you do,” you coo as he finally does a full summons.
He swears he’s going to edge you until you’re begging and crying later. It’s the least you could do for being such a pain in—
His vengeful thoughts are interrupted when you gasp out loud—eyes glued to the monitor as the shooting star glows like iridescent gold. Wonwoo doesn’t know shit about Genshin, but he’s pretty sure he just pulled a really rare character.
“I just pulled a five-star yesterday.” You scowl, staring at him disbelievingly. “How on earth—”
To your dismay, Wonwoo accidentally clicks on your mouse—ending the entire animation sequence a bit too early. But just when you’re about to berate him for being impatient, your jaw practically falls to the floor when you see all ten of your (technically Wonwoo’s) wish results.
He managed to bring home the featured five-star character five times. Five fucking times. Holy shit?
As you visibly freak out in your seat, bemoaning the fact that this legendary pull happened off-stream, Wonwoo stares at you bizarrely like he always does. You immediately take a screenshot, explaining that the probability of what just happened was several times less likely than you letting him fuck you while you’re livestreaming, but Wonwoo’s mind wanders a little right after that.
So…you would let him fuck you on stream, then? 
Not that it’s something he’s thought about before. Wonwoo likes the privacy your set-up affords him with, and he’s not about to jeopardize that with by committing such an inexplicable act of exhibitionism. But the mere picture it paints in his head is enough to make him swallow thickly. 
One of your stupidly short skirts bunched up to your waist. His hands kneading your breasts as he snaps his hips from behind you. All those pretty noises you make only for him now being heard by your incel-ridden fanbase. He bets they’d even like seeing their beloved Koyahngi get railed on-cam, but the thought of anyone else seeing you in ways only Wonwoo has had the privilege to makes his blood boil.
“Hm? You’ve gone quiet. What’s up?”
His eyes flicker over to your form—knees pressed against your chest underneath the oversized tee you’re wearing. You like to dress comfortably when you’re off-stream, which is understandable because even if you’re just sitting in front of a computer screen, doing so in full cosplay can be a huge hassle. He’s always wondered how you have it in you to put in all that effort for your viewers.
Curiosity lingers in your gaze when he prolongs the silence, but Wonwoo can’t bring himself to answer—mind too preoccupied with a whirlwind of thoughts to articulate any sort of reply. 
He can excuse those horny assholes on Twitter—your main target audience for the filthier content you make on the side. They have no idea who it is they’re really jacking off to anyway. But if some lesser man deigns to even think he deserves to look at you—the real you—while you’re writhing in the throes of pleasure…
You let out an undignified yelp when Wonwoo abruptly pulls you onto his lap, awkwardly straddling him as he stares at you intensely through the lens of his glasses. He can vaguely hear you muttering something about impatient men under your breath, but Wonwoo knows your irritation with him holds little to no weight with how you fold your legs on either side of his hips so his large hands can have better access to your ass.
“This is what you invited me for, isn’t it?” he murmurs, giving your backside a squeeze that has you mewling in response. 
Wonwoo smirks. What a needy little thing.
You gulp. “Y-Yeah, but—”
“Strip.”
“Wonwoo, I’ve gotta post about the wish results!”
He stares at you, unimpressed, and lets his hands fall onto the arm rests of your gaming chair, making you whimper at the loss of his touch. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
The effect of his authoritative tone manifests all too quickly. You bite your lower lip as you tug on the hem of your shirt, lifting it up just to tease a sliver of skin underneath. Wonwoo narrows his eyes, fully cognizant of what you’re trying to do, but it seems that you know better than to piss him off even further. 
Your shirt falls to the floor and Wonwoo has to keep himself from groaning at the sight before him. It’s one thing for you to forego a bra, but panties, too?
“Do you like it, daddy?” 
Knowing you, the question is meant to taunt than anything else, but Wonwoo lets it pass anyway.
It always drives him mad, how subtle you are whenever you want to get a rise out of him. The way you roll your hips into Wonwoo’s has a tantalizing feel to it and he has to grit his teeth to keep himself from snapping. He’ll play your games and drag this on for as long as he has to. Because he’s been with you long enough to know how much you love it when Wonwoo lets you have an illusion of authority for a sliver of a second, only to bully you into submission right after. 
“Fuck,” you whisper the moment the outline of his erection grazes your bare pussy. “Missed your cock so much… It’s been a while since I’ve had you inside me.”
Wonwoo scoffs. “And whose fault is that?”
“How was I supposed to know these conventions were scheduled one after the other?” You pout before grinding deliciously against his cock once again. He can practically feel how wet you are through his sweats and it doesn’t help that each forward motion brings your perky breasts closer to his face.
Wonwoo lets out another sigh as he wraps an arm around your waist before leaning down to latch his lips onto one of your nipples. You quickly jolt in response—not expecting him to indulge you with pleasure so quickly—but his actions spur you on. As his tongue expertly flicks across your sensitive bud, you quickly haul his aching cock out of the confines of his sweats, grinding your slit across his thick girth. 
You’re convinced that this is enough to get you off. Though you’ve memorized how the bulging veins on Wonwoo’s cock feels like inside you, having each ridge graze across your clit prickles the back of your head with newfound pleasure. A growl reverberates in his chest as you expertly slide your pussy along his dick, and you brace your hands on his broad shoulders to anchor yourself.
“Daddy,” you whine. “Can I? Please? Want it so bad.”
The words are punctuated with a pained moan when Wonwoo’s mouth trails higher before biting down on the junction between your neck and shoulders. He doesn’t miss the way your cunt momentarily pulses from his aggression, and he gladly guides your hips as you rub yourself all over his cock.
“My good little whore, always asking permission first,” he chuckles. “Go ahead. Fuck yourself on my cock.”
Wonwoo lifts you off his lap for a moment, earning himself a whine in protest, but when you realize he’s going to take off his sweats, you practically salivate once his strong thighs ease back onto your gaming chair. You don’t bother catching his gaze for an implicit confirmation. You simply sink down on his cock like you’ve been craving for days. 
A choked out moan gets caught in the back of your throat when he fills you to the brim—making your brain go blank for a moment before you remember to start doing as he asked. Wonwoo watches you through an intense, hooded gaze. The only indication that he’s even feeling remotely good is the way his fingers grip the arm rests tighter whenever your walls clench around him every now and again.
Despite the pure, unadulterated bliss that surges through you every time you’re mounted on Wonwoo’s length, it pisses you off how put-together he typically looks like when you’re on top.
You want to see him just as depraved as you are—panting and thrusting into you like he’ll die if he doesn’t fuck you deep enough. But you can never get Wonwoo to handle you the way you want to be handled when you’re riding him like this. As much as you like seeing those sharp eyes watching your every move, the only way he’ll truly fuck you like you deserve is…
Wonwoo’s brows are quick to furrow once you promptly lift yourself off his lap—length slipping out of your pussy as you make your way towards the bed. However, when you spread yourself out on the mattress face down, ass up, it definitely sparks his interest.
And like a cherry on top, you place those heart-shaped handcuffs of yours on the swell of your ass, almost like you’re inviting him to play with you.
The next thing he knows, the worn out threads of his self-control have snapped. He’s behind you not a moment later—hissing through his teeth as he throws his shirt somewhere on the floor. 
You moan when Wonwoo continues grinding his cock against your ass while he yanks both of your wrists behind you. The cold bite of the handcuffs alerts you to what you’ve allowed him to do, and when the lock clicks in place, you stifle a shuddering sigh into the sheets.
Suddenly, his breath is right next to your ear. “Where’s the key for this thing?” 
You feel Wonwoo tug against the fake metal to test for sturdiness, and you feel your chest warm at his discretion. Though he’s, by no means, soft with you, he always takes the time to check if you’re comfortable with what you’re about to do together—no matter how subtle.
“On the nightstand,” you tell him all while pushing your ass back to meet his shallow thrusts. “You can go wild with the cuffs, daddy. They’re high quality for a reason.”
A low, devilish laugh escapes him. 
“Be careful what you wish for, slut.”
He’s merciless with the way he slides his length back into your sopping hole, one hand pushing the back of your head further into the mattress as the other yanks at the chain link of the handcuffs. Each powerful stroke sends you forward on the bed, and his name tumbles in broken syllables from your mouth as he fucks the shape of his cock into you.
“That’s not what you’re supposed to call me,” he growls before snapping his hips with a particularly punishing thrust. “We’ve barely even started and I’ve already fucked you stupid? Are you so hungry for cock that you’ve already forgotten who I am?” 
“I-I’m sorry, daddy!” you whimper as he pounds into you relentlessly. “Just feels s-so fucking good. Love your cock so much!” 
“Yeah?” Wonwoo lets out a patronizing laugh before tugging on the handcuffs again—putting a delicious strain on your arms that amplifies your pleasure in some twisted way. “When you were out there dolling yourself up for conventions, did you think about my cock? Did you want me to fill you with my cum in the restroom again? You really fucking liked it when I did that to your Sage cosplay, didn’t you?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble as tears start to cascade down your cheeks. “Want to get split open on your cock forever, daddy! Want your cum dripping down my thighs when there’s tons of people around—ah!” 
The sharp sound of one of Wonwoo’s palms colliding with the meat of your ass rings in your ears, and it leaves a pleasurable sting sizzling across your flesh. You can’t help the surge of pride that fills you as Wonwoo moans out loud the moment your pussy clenched around him in surprise.
“Dirty fucking cockslut,” he rasps. “You just love it when you’re being filthy for everyone to see.”
For a moment, you’re liberated from the steady burn your arms have been sustaining in such a complex position. Wonwoo surrenders his grip on the handcuffs—letting your bound wrists fall uselessly atop the small of your back. His cock doesn’t quite slip out of you, but you feel him move around from behind. You crane your neck to see what he’s up to, but when you see him angling his phone in a shot that would definitely make for good content to post later, you feel your arousal spark tenfold.
“Now be a good fucking girl for daddy, and let him show everyone how filthy you are.”
The moment the telltale sound of the record button being pressed hits your ears, Wonwoo reclaims his grip on your dainty handcuffs before resuming his ministrations. You let out a long-winded moan as you meet his powerful thrusts, hands instinctively straining against your restraints out of the need to rub your throbbing clit for faster release, but you know it’s a futile effort.
Behind you, Wonwoo is practically losing his mind over the sight of your creamy essence coating his cock with each slide of his hips. You’re extra responsive with the handcuffs as expected. You’ve always had a thing for switching things up in the bedroom, but you’re clenching around him even tighter than usual. 
He tells himself to just film a few seconds of you getting railed with your heart-shaped handcuffs adding more spice into the mix. Then he can truly have his way with you. 
When he’s satisfied, Wonwoo quickly discards his phone on your bed—eyes darting towards your nightstand before he spots what he’s looking for. Another needy whine reverberates in the air when his cock slips out of you so he can walk over to retrieve it. 
Like the good whore you are, you don’t even move an inch. You patiently wait for Wonwoo to return and fill you up again even if the fact that he’s making you wait in the first place makes you want to be a brat. But when you feel the handcuffs fall away from your wrists after he unlocks them, you whip your head around to flash him a startled look. 
Wonwoo tosses your newest toy away with little concern for their well-being before grabbing your face—crushing your lips together in an open-mouthed kiss.
“Mine,” he growls before manhandling you so that you’re laying on your back. “This slutty fucking pussy belongs to me, got that?”
You nod, moaning as he presses his tongue deep into your mouth. You would say yours in return, but you’re blindsided by the way Wonwoo throws your legs over his shoulders—plunging his fat dick back into the velvet heat of your cunt.
As he whispers the filthiest things into your ear, you figure that Wonwoo must have been just as pent up as you are. The consistency of his thrusts is starting to falter—sharp, calculated thrusts turning erratic and sloppy as his orgasm starts to catch up to him. 
With your hands free, you’re able to reach between your thighs in a feeble attempt at finding your clit. However, when Wonwoo catches wind of what you’re trying to do, he slaps your hand away—eyes boring into you with so much angry disappointment, you would’ve cried and begged for his forgiveness right then and there.
“Come on my cock or don’t come at all, whore,” he warns. “I’m already generous enough to have you writhing on my dick, and you can’t even be grateful about that?”
“I am, daddy!” You insist, tears threatening to spill again as you lace your arms around his neck. “You’re hitting me so deep. I’m g-gonna come soon, please—”
“Does my pretty cockslut want me to come inside her?” Wonwoo whispers before pressing your knees against your breasts. “Does she want me to fill her slutty pussy with my cum?”
“I want it, daddy. Want you to fill me up,” you beg as you desperately tug him down for a kiss. 
Normally, Wonwoo would’ve denied you simply because he can, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. But for some reason, he lets himself fall into you—lips latching onto yours like he’s done hundreds of times before. 
It seems like the kiss is what catalyzes your release, and Wonwoo groans into your mouth when he feels your walls clamp down on his cock—desperately milking him for his cum. He isn’t too far behind. All it takes is a few more pistons of his hips before he stills inside you. 
The sensation of being filled with his hot cum makes you pull away from his lips as another long-winded moan sings in his ears. Wonwoo’s shudders from the aftermath of his release, all while slowly fucking his emission deeper into your cunt. From the satisfied purr that escapes you, he thinks you like it just as much as he does.
Wonwoo really didn’t plan on staying over. Really, he didn’t. But the way you tug him back down on the mattress right after he’s finished cleaning you up makes him a bit too hyper-aware of his own aching muscles—both from this morning’s weight training and the several rounds he just shared with you. So he lets you snuggle closer to his clothed chest, the warmth from both of your bodies permeating into each other. He’s never felt more toasty beneath a comforter than he does now.
“This is nice,” you tell him quietly. “I wonder if people will like it if I posted videos of us just cuddling.”
Wonwoo laughs, thumbs absentmindedly caressing the red marks left by your handcuffs. “Doubt it.”
Your silly lo-fi music still plays from your computer's speakers , but neither of you could be assed to get up and turn it off. Wonwoo wouldn’t call himself a professional cuddler—you two have only cuddled a total of three times since you started fucking around, and you often complained about how stiff he always is—but from how comfortably your limbs slot into his, he supposes that he’s doing an okay job.
There’s a hint of intimacy charging the air, one that’s leagues different from the carnal lust that clouds his brain every time he fucks you. His chest twists with each passing moment, and Wonwoo makes the mistake of flickering his eyes on your half-asleep form pressed against him. 
It’s been months since you and him started fooling around, but he knows perfectly well that he isn’t the first to have seen you so vulnerable . While he usually doesn’t give a shit about that, and Wonwoo knows the topic is quite sensitive from the little tells he could pick up on for the past few months…
“Can I ask about your old dom?”
Wonwoo can practically feel you stiffen against his touch, which is one of the main reasons why he hasn’t once tried to broach the topic in the past. Even if you could be a nuisance ninety percent of the time, he isn’t a fan of making people uncomfortable on purpose. He’s about to follow his inquiry up with the reassurance that it isn’t a big deal, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but—
You squirm away from his embrace, and Wonwoo lets you, albeit hesitantly. His shoulders relax when he realizes you’re just repositioning yourself so that you can face him directly, chewing the inside of your cheek like you don’t have the words just yet. 
“He was…mean,” you whisper, forcing Wonwoo to wrap his arms around you once again. “Even meaner than you are. You’re at least a semi-decent person outside the domspace, but that guy? Piece of shit for real.”
Wonwoo nods. “But you don’t really care about that, do you?”
“Yeah. I can look past him being the meanest dom on the face of the earth. As long as he could satisfy me sexually, then we’re all good.”
“So…what made you part ways?”
Your gaze drifts to Wonwoo for a moment. He looks a lot different when his face isn’t bathed in the deep red of your mood lights. His hair is tousled, eyes squinting a little even if you aren’t that far away from him. And the earnest tone in his voice as he posits the question is something you could get used to hearing every now and again.
“Well, I don’t really do relationships, you know that right?” you say and Wonwoo nods. “My old dom didn’t get that though. He was really possessive of me even outside of our sessions together. It got to a point where he would get really…physical with me just to get the point across.”
Silence dips between the both of you—white noise ringing so loud in Wonwoo’s head, he can barely hear your shitty lo-fi playlist anymore. He’s always had a thing for making you cry during sex, but that’s all it is—some dacryphilia play to scratch both of your kinks. No matter how infuriating you are, he can’t imagine himself ever hurting you outside a pleasurable, sexual context.
Then he remembers the first time you invited him over to film some clips. How you stared at him as he cleaned you up like you aren’t used to the aftercare. Like you aren’t used to being treated delicately.
Is that because of your old shitty dom?
“He’s a fucking asshole,” Wonwoo grumbles before pressing your body closer to his. 
You chuckle. “He is. I’m glad I got out of that before things got even uglier.”
“How’d you even get rid of him?”
“Eh, it’s nothing a little blackmail won’t fix.”
Wonwoo’s brow arches at your response. You’re such an evil little minx, it’s actually admirable.
A little later, the conversation about your previous sexual partners fades away, and you’re back to tracing weird shapes on Wonwoo’s chest for him to guess. He spends half the time convincing you to just shut up and go to sleep, but he finds himself indulging you in your silly whims regardless. 
“Wonwoo, you’re a pretty great fuck buddy, you know that?”
He hums. “Why is that?”
“‘Cause you never go overboard with the stuff you do to me,” you say, eyes drifting away from his as you list off the reasons off your fingers. “You always let me annoy the shit out of you without getting pissed for real. You’re good at keeping secrets, too. Oh, and I never have to worry about you looking for anything more than this since you’re a pretty laid back guy. Def not the commitment type, which is exactly my type.”
Wonwoo scoffs. “If I become someone that isn’t your type, would that get you off my back?”
“I doubt that would ever happen,” you giggle.
For some reason, part of him wishes for the same thing.
But you don’t have to know about that.
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On the morning of Soonyoung’s birthday, Wonwoo wakes up irritated.
He had a dream about you—one where you stopped being fuck buddies with him because you wanted to try things out again with your old dom. Someone that Wonwoo doesn’t even know, not even by name. Yet the rage that dream-Wonwoo felt upon seeing you hand-in-hand with some faceless punk as you both left him in the dust is almost too lifelike to ignore. 
So, he does something stupid.
He pulls up his phone���ignoring every message asking if he’s going to show up for Soonyoung’s party later—and pulls up his Twitter app. He doesn’t spend much time there, even if he is co-managing your super secret porn account. In fact, he eventually muted the notifs for that too, when the appeal of having your illicit acts shared to the unknowing public finally fizzled out. 
But he doesn’t log in to check the notifications you’ve amassed, as well as the pathetic DMs asking where your location was so they could fly in to fuck you themselves. No, Wonwoo scrolls past all the content you’ve made with him to unearth things best left in the past.
Like the videos he films with his own camera, the ones you made with your old dom are more than discreet—despite the hyper-possessive tendencies you’ve mentioned. There’s absolutely nothing to be gleaned about his identity, and Wonwoo is left wondering how stupid he’s being for wanting to know who it was that made you feel good before he came into the picture.
Why does it matter anyway, right? 
Even if you did hypothetically leave him to fuck around with your old shitty dom—or anyone else for the matter—why would it matter to Wonwoo? The two of you aren’t even friends. And if you had some other person to bother, that would mean less shit for him to deal with.
But why does the thought of letting someone else have you fill him with so much vitriol that Wonwoo nearly melts his cereal bowl with his glare alone when he comes out for breakfast?
“Hyung,” Mingyu calls out from the seat adjacent to his, rightfully concerned. “You okay? I can always grab a new brand if you hate this one so much.”
The taut muscles on his face soften at the sulking tone to Mingyu’s voice. “Oh, uh. Sorry. It’s not that. I was just thinking.”
“Of your girlfriend?”
“...Of how I’m going to break your PS5 if you don’t cut it out with that girlfriend shit.”
Mingyu whines. “Wonwoo-hyung, I paid good money for that! But fine, I won’t pester you anymore if you’re so intent on keeping her a secret from the world.”
A secret… That’s right. 
What you and Wonwoo have is something that not even his best friend is completely aware of. Sure, Mingyu’s roommate-senses have been tingling for weeks, but Wonwoo knows that he will never really know the full story unless either you or Wonwoo let him in on the secret. 
Which will probably never happen if the two of you want to keep your careers, of course.
“Anyway, the rest of the guys are asking if you’re coming to Soonyoung’s party,” Mingyu says in an attempt to divert the conversation, thank god. “Everyone else has already replied except for you.”
“Who else is invited again?”
“Uh, our usual group, Koyahngi, and I dunno, a bunch of other streamers we know. I think some of Soonyoung’s high school friends are gonna show up as a surprise, though, but that’s just what Jihoon told me.”
Wonwoo considers the information at hand for a moment. 
He doesn’t mind mingling with fellow streamers and probably some of Soonyoung’s other friends, but the last time he’s seen you specifically is the day he bit the bullet and asked about your old dom. A conversation which ended on a pretty agreeable note despite the obvious unease on your face when Wonwoo opened the topic.
The fact that you haven’t texted him since is a little worrisome, too. It’s been about two weeks since that happened, and Wonwoo is beginning to wonder if he unknowingly hit a nerve and this is your way of sending him a message. 
He would’ve taken the initiative and checked up on you during your first week of radio silence, but when he catches you doing pretty fine on your latest streams and when he gets roped into some partnership talks with an entertainment agency that wants to recruit him, Wonwoo decides to put it off for later. 
Besides, the two of you are grown adults—so are the rest of your thirsty audience on Twitter. They can survive two weeks without content.
“Yeah, I’ll come,” he tells Mingyu about five minutes later when he’s already putting away the dishes. “What time are we leaving?”
“Uh, the party starts at seven. Do we go early or fashionably late?”
“Early.”
“Of course. Gotta put the senior citizen to bed early.”
“Mingyu?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
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🐈‍⬛: Are you coming to Soonyoung’s party tonight?
🐈‍: yea, i just need to sort some stuff out
🐈‍⬛: Wow
🐈‍: ?
🐈‍⬛: I just didn’t think you’d reply
🐈‍: is daddy gonna punish me for ignoring him for so long &lt;3
🐈‍⬛: I’m being serious
🐈‍: well, so am i
🐈‍: anyway, tell soonie i’ll be there soon
🐈‍: i’m just talking to someone
🐈‍⬛: Okay
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Wonwoo has been hanging out with his friends long enough to know that only a select few can really handle their liquor. It doesn’t help that today’s celebrant is the worst lightweight of them all. It’s barely thirty minutes past eight, and Soonyoung is already screaming profanities on one of the tables—using an unopened bottle of absinthe that Seungcheol gifted him with as a makeshift microphone as he belts out trashy lyrics from songs Wonwoo vaguely recognizes.
Mingyu films the entire thing on his phone, stifling his laughter while sipping on his own drink. Wonwoo can only roll his eyes at his best friend’s tolerant behavior.
At around nine, Jeonghan and Joshua arrive at the scene with a tiger-themed cake in tow, and half the friend group has to physically restrain Soonyoung just so the birthday boy could blow out his fucking candles properly. After criticizing the baker’s work (“The eyes are uneven! Tiger eyes are perfectly symmetrical!), Jeonghan rounds up the other guests to sing a loud Happy Birthday just to get Soonyoung to finally shut up. When the song comes to a close, though, Seokmin giggles a little too conspiratorially before dunking Soonyoung’s face into the cake.
It’s gatherings like this—no matter how rowdy and unacceptably loud—that make Wonwoo stick around. He might not look the part, but he loves it when he sees his friends be themselves outside of their streamer personas. It’s like high school and college all over again. 
But when the clock on his phone reads ten-thirty, and he realizes you’re still not at the venue, Wonwoo considers shooting you another text asking where you were. It’s an idea he quickly shoots down the next second because first of all, you’re not even friends. It’d be weird if he just asked out of nowhere. 
He supposes he could use wanting a quick fuck as an excuse to get some intel on your whereabouts. But the thought of lying to you doesn’t sit right with Wonwoo for some goddamn reason. 
When Mingyu offers him a drink, he half-considers taking it just to get his mind off you. He’s pretty sure his roommate has picked up on his distracted behavior, and is only attempting to soothe him somewhat with some beer. But Wonwoo reminds him that he’s one of tonight’s designated drivers and decides to pass.
Everyone in attendance is in the middle of a game of truth or dare when Wonwoo’s phone buzzes in his jacket pocket. He’s quick to excuse himself when he sees who it’s from and what message was left for him to read.
🐈‍: help me. please.
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Thankfully, you had the foresight to send him your location after shooting him that cryptic text, and Wonwoo is glad to find that you’re just a few blocks away. Still, he decides to take his car since the weather decided to be a bitch, sending in an unexpected downpour in the middle of summer.
He pulls over in front of a closed bookshop once he’s sure you’re in the area—looking around for any signs of you. The streets are deserted, and Wonwoo is trying to figure out what could have possibly brought you to this place at this hour. Why didn’t you just head straight to Soonyoung’s party? 
And why did you call him for help?
Through the rain and the poor lighting, he finally spots you—standing underneath the canopy of a waiting shed next to a man whose back is turned to Wonwoo.
He doesn’t think twice. He just gets out of his car and runs in the rain—chest warming at the sight of your downcast face perking up at the sight of him. Wonwoo would’ve let himself be glad that you're safe and sound, if only your current company didn’t turn around and reveal his identity.
From the looks of it, you seemed to be having a pretty heated conversation before his arrival. Johnny was obviously annoyed when he turned to look at him, but the expression fell away when he realized the newcomer was Wonwoo. 
However, a sinister smile takes its place not a few seconds later.
“Huh, no wonder you were so quick to replace me, doll,” Johnny laughs insincerely, sharp eyes trained on Wonwoo as he stares the younger streamer up and down. “It’s him, huh?”
“This has nothing to fucking do with you, Johnny,” you grit out, but Wonwoo doesn’t miss the way your voice nearly cracks. “Can you just leave me alone? You don’t need me when you’ve got a bunch of other girls who want to suck your dick, right?”
Wonwoo observes the exchange with a stoic face that doesn’t betray his surprise. It doesn’t take a lot to realize at that moment that Johnny is most definitely the asshole dom whose face he wanted to pummel into the ground when he found out what he did to you. But the things he does know about Johnny and the things he’s just now finding out makes a storm brew inside of his head—unable to separate what’s fact from fiction.
Johnny’s a nice guy. Wonwoo knows this very well. But then again, he’s also the same person who blatantly likes Twitter porn on his official account, so where does that leave him?
“I guess you’re right, but your pussy’s a perfect fit,” Johnny chuckles. “Can’t help but want to hit that again and again, right Wonwoo?”
He stares down at him hard. “Don’t talk about her like she’s just some thing you can play with.”
“Oh? No wonder those new vids of yours have been extra livelier. Your new boytoy is a big old softie, huh?” Another mirthless laugh echoes in the empty streets, and Wonwoo feels his own body heat up with rage amidst the cold rain. “I never would’ve imagined it was Wonwoo, of all people, though. That really is a magic pussy you’ve got there, doll. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found out you’re fucking his twelve other friends, too. Fucking whore—”
Before Johnny could get another word out, Wonwoo’s fist had already collided with the side of his face—knocking the older man to the ground with a disgruntled sound. He can vaguely hear you calling his name in shock, pulling him back with your little hands as Wonwoo stares down at a person he used to look up to.
“Call her that one more fucking time,” he rasps—eyes alight with anger, “and I’ll make sure it’s not just a busted eye you’re leaving with tonight.”
“Wonwoo,” you plead, tugging on his arm. “Please. He’s not worth it. Let’s just go.” 
Johnny still has it in him to bark out another laugh, spitting out some blood from his mouth and onto the pavement. “Running away again, princess? That’s what you’ve always been good at anyway.”
When Wonwoo moves to lunge at him again, you lace your fingers with his. For some reason, it makes him falter. Wonwoo stares at where your hands are adjoined, then looks into your eyes—glistening with tears as you beg him to stop.
Sending Johnny one last threatening glare, Wonwoo tightens his grip on your delicate fingers before leading you back to his car.
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Wonwoo doesn’t return to the party.
Instead, he shoots Mingyu a quick ‘something came up’ text, and that he won’t be able to play designated driver for the night. His best friend responds in kind, saying he should have fun with his girlfriend and just take a cab home. On normal days, he would’ve given Mingyu another unsolicited threat, but tonight, he’s focused on something else.
You’ve been quiet the entire time Wonwoo has been driving, hands placed on top of your lap as you gazed at the lights flashing by in a blur of colors and raindrops pouring down the window. He doesn’t have a particular destination in mind, but he figures that it’ll do you some good to have some time to mull over everything that happened. 
But when the silence gets too overbearing even for him, Wonwoo asks:
“What do you usually do when you’re upset?”
You turn your head slowly, red eyes shining even in the dark. Wiping the tears away, you say, “Buy a tub of ice cream and stargaze at the rooftop of my apartment building. That’s kinda impossible right now, though, since…”
Yeah. It was still raining. Fuck.
“Well,” Wonwoo starts, “we can still get some ice cream if you’re up for it. I know a supermarket that’s open twenty four-seven.” 
You don’t reply, simply letting your gaze drift back to the window, and Wonwoo takes that as an affirmative. 
The two of you sit in the silence so deafening, it unsettles even Wonwoo the silence connoisseur himself. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do in this kind of situation. Should he offer you some verbal comfort? Should he promise to deal with Johnny if he comes after you again?
In the end, Wonwoo chooses to preserve the quiet—thinking it’s what you need most right now.
He pulls into the supermarket’s parking lot in ten minutes. He’s about to tell you that he won’t take long—glancing around at the backseat to check if Mingyu left his umbrella there. But before he can even get a word out, you’ve already leaned across the center console, grabbing Wonwoo’s face with both hands before smashing your lips together. 
Wonwoo grunts, grabbing your shoulders as he gently pries you off him. “Hey—”
You don’t listen. Instead, you climb on top of his lap despite the limited space. He knows that the steering wheel digging into your back can’t be comfortable at all, so despite himself, Wonwoo pushes the driver’s seat all the way back. But then you choose to do something he doesn’t expect at all.
With the newfound legroom, you sink to the floor—puffy eyes looking up at him as you work on the buckle of his belt. Wonwoo gives you a stare that’s two parts disapproving and one part curious. In the end, he does nothing about it when you undo his jeans and take his cock in the warmth of your hand.
When it comes to you, it doesn’t take a lot to get him hard. The need to please shines in your eyes as you give him possibly one of the best handjobs in his life. You’re not even uttering a single sound, but your titillating gaze sends all the blood in his system straight to his dick.
Your mouth is on him the next thing he knows—giving his fat head some experimental kitten licks that make him want to shove your head down to the base of his cock. But he won’t. Wonwoo isn’t Johnny. He wouldn’t dare to be rough with you after what just happened, despite your apparent eagerness to give him head right here, of all places. 
The mere reminder of that asshole has him buzzing with rage again, but whatever frustration is left over gets quickly replaced with toe-curling pleasure when you take his heavy length in the heat of your mouth. Your tongue lathers the underside of his shaft as every inch bypasses your plump lips. What your mouth can’t reach, you compensate with your fingers—fondling both his balls and the base of his cock with tender yet salacious touches.
He has to tell you to knock it off. This probably isn’t how you’re supposed to deal with…whatever shit you have going on with Johnny. But your mouth feels like fucking heaven, and Wonwoo isn’t a good enough person to deny himself the pleasure.
The rain continues to pour outside, but the sound of it is eclipsed by the wet noise of you bobbing up and down his engorged cock. As Wonwoo’s orgasm slowly builds itself from the ground up, his large hand gathers your hair in a single clump—tugging hard enough to have you moaning around his length.
“Good, good girl,” he rasps before thrusting his hips into your mouth. 
 When he finally comes, you swallow every drop he pours down your throat. Even when your eyes start to sting with tears, you take it all while Wonwoo holds your head in place. 
As his high starts to ebb away, Wonwoo realizes this is probably the most breathless he’s been rendered since he started fucking around with you. He could probably blame that on the shitty car ventilation, but there’s just something so fucking enticing about seeing you wedged beneath him on the floor—face streaked with tears with remnants of his release still sticking on your lips.
Wordlessly, you peel yourself away as you scramble back to the passenger seat, making a nonchalant comment about how much you’ve imagined sucking him off in his car, but Wonwoo doesn’t quite process it all.
When he notices that the glass of his car windows have all but fogged up, he leans forward—one hand raised as he starts drawing shapes into the moisture. You stare at him with a bewildered look, wondering what on earth he was up to. But the moment you realize what he’s drawing, your expression twists from confusion to disbelief.
Stars. Wonwoo was drawing stars on his fucking windshield with his entire dick still out and everything. He doesn’t even look fazed while he’s doing it.
“You can’t be serious,” you say.
He shrugs and grabs some tissues from the glove compartment to clean up before putting himself away—handing it to you right after. 
He’s so fucking thoughtful; it still gives you whiplash.
“You said you wanted to see the stars, right?” Wonwoo shrugs. “This is the best I can give you right now, so.”
You stare at him for a couple of seconds longer—like you can’t believe a man like Jeon Wonwoo really exists on this earth. Then, you laugh. It’s one of those obnoxious ones that typically have Wonwoo rolling his eyes at you, but it sounds like music to his ears after seeing you cry your eyes out .
Wonwoo does manage to get enough ice cream for the two of you to feast on back in your apartment as you both watch this food show that Mingyu keeps recommending to him. The tricky part is trying to get your hands off him the entire time. 
For someone who went through something pretty traumatic earlier in the evening, you’re fucking insatiable. But Wonwoo’s resolve can no longer be shaken, and the dirtiest thing that you end up doing in your bedroom is giving him a kiss on the cheek before bidding him good night.
It’s only when you’re dozing softly against his chest—having trusted him enough to fall asleep in his company—that Wonwoo realizes something that might change the trajectory of your set-up for good.
He’s in love. 
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The next morning, Mingyu greets Wonwoo at the apartment like a mother would her troublemaking son who got caught sneaking home in the middle of the night.
“It’s Koyahngi, isn’t it?” he says point-blank. 
Wonwoo doesn’t exactly have the energy to play some mental gymnastics with Mingyu right now. The moment it dawned on him how he actually felt about you, he couldn’t get a wink of sleep. Thoughts about what he should do have kept him up all night. Should he come clean about it? Should he just leave it be?
But when he remembers what you said about him during that one visit of his…
I never have to worry about you looking for anything more than this since you’re a pretty laid back guy. Def not the commitment type.
That pretty much leaves him with one option, which is the one he’s been meaning to take all along. The idea of having to confess his love for you like some sort of prepubescent high schooler honestly makes him want to vomit. But at the same time, resorting to…concealing his feelings from plain sight doesn’t sit well with him either.
But no matter what he feels about either option, Wonwoo knows that keeping his mouth shut about it is the best option. Especially when you’re still emotionally high-strung from that encounter with Johnny. 
“So what if it is?” Wonwoo grumbles, plopping himself onto the couch right next to Mingyu.
“For what it’s worth, I’ve always thought the two of you were a good match,” his roommate offers, and Wonwoo appreciates his pep-talk. Really, he does. But he’s pep-talking him for the wrong fucking outcome. “You should totally go for it if you haven’t already.”
You don’t do relationships, and neither does Wonwoo. He knows if he uses this line of reasoning as a rebuttal to Mingyu’s words, his best friend will stubbornly insist that he get the girl anyways. He’s always been the one-track-mind type that gives it his all once he’s finally set on something. 
But Wonwoo is nothing like his enthusiastic roommate. He’s cold, and sharp-tongued, and everything you probably wouldn’t want in a boyfriend. All he’s good for is a quick fuck every now and again, and he’s not about to start deluding himself that he can be anything more to you.
(Yet part of him still hopes anyway.) 
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🐈‍: are u free today
🐈‍⬛: Be there in thirty
🐈‍: whoa i haven’t even told you what i had planned
🐈‍: what if i actually wanted to take you on a date to the park huh
🐈‍⬛: Did you?
🐈‍: no, my new raiden shogun cosplay set just arrived
🐈‍: and we kinda have this unspoken tradition 
🐈‍: if you know what i mean
🐈‍⬛: You want me to fuck you in it?
🐈‍: always <3
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There’s something off when Wonwoo shows up at your doorstep.
He knows you easily pick up on it from the way your eyes narrow slightly when you scrutinize him. From what he can tell, he’s acting as aloof as he always does, yet you still ask him, “You okay?” as if he’s doing something different.
“Yeah,” he mumbles before quietly closing the door behind him.
As you lead him to your room, you tell him that you haven’t put on your cosplay yet because the stockings that came with your order were itchy as fuck, and how you’re thinking of having them replaced one of these days. Wonwoo hums in reply, eyes trained on the takeout packaging that litters your kitchen counter. He has half the mind to tell you to start eating healthily, but reminds himself that’s the sort of thing boyfriends do—not fuck buddies.
Your dainty lo-fi playlist is streaming in your room like always, and when you see the assorted fabrics of your cosplay crumpled on your desk, you heave a tired sigh.
“I’m too lazy to put it on now,” you whine. “Can you just fuck me normally?”
He doesn’t give you a verbal response. Instead, Wonwoo pulls you by the hip, pressing you impossibly close to him as he rests his forehead on top of yours. You startle a little at his abruptness, but your body language betrays no sign of resistance. If anything, you lean more into his touch as the seconds tick past.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” you whisper like you’re afraid of shattering something delicate. “You seem out of it.”
“I’m fine,” he insists, and before you can say anything else in response, he slots your mouths together in a slow, sensual kiss. 
Wonwoo likes to get things done hard and fast. He’s a man who sticks to his schedules for the day if he can help it, so he typically treats these sessions with you as timed encounters. More often than not, he’ll be out of your door in two hours or less so he can dedicate his time to working out or planning for new content.
Now, it’s a little different. He takes his sweet time with you—mouths moving in voluptuous unison as if he’s finally dedicating each second to truly memorize the curve of your lips against his. You moan into the kiss, fingers threading through his dark hair before he pulls away from you with a breathless sigh. 
Wonwoo stares at you like you’re the center of the universe. He can only hope you see the same thing when you stare back.
You know when Wonwoo takes his glasses off, he means business. One moment he’s placing them on top of your nightstand, and the next, you’re suddenly pinned beneath him on your bed—getting your lips devoured by the insatiable man on top of you. 
There’s something so innately alluring to his kisses that you haven’t felt during the last time you fucked Wonwoo in this same room. Those were less kisses and more of a clash of teeth and tongue. Now, he stokes a kind of desire that almost scares you to have. You’re afraid if you indulge yourself too much in this version of him, you’ll get addicted. 
The two of you are supposed to be filming today. Yet you seem to have forgotten all about your plans as you lose yourselves in the heat of each other’s bodies. But despite the mellow pace that Wonwoo has established, the desperation still lingers in his touch. 
He flips the both of you over so that you’re sitting right on top of him, gasping out loud as you steady yourself across his hips. Wonwoo smiles lazily, drawing circles along the curve of your thigh before teasing the waistband of your shorts with a single finger. You whimper as you grind down against his hardening length, still confused about how soft he’s being with you today, but no complaints are going to be filed.
“You want my cock that badly?” he asks, and you nod a bit too enthusiastically. “Then work for it.”
You bite your lip, not bothering to remove either of your clothes when you haul out Wonwoo’s length from the fabric of his sweats. Just a few pumps from your small fingers has him hot and heavy in your hand—making your mouth water with anticipation. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of taking him inside your tight little pussy.
Nudging the hem of both your shorts and panties to the side, you quietly sink down on his engorged cock with a strained whimper. The lack of prep definitely isn’t doing you any favors, but the raw stretch of him so deep inside your walls sends a rush of pleasure straight to your skull. In no time, you’re bouncing on top of his lap like a bitch in heat—mind hazy with the feeling of Wonwoo hitting you even deeper than usual. 
You sort of expected him to amp up the dirty talk. You don’t always get to ride him like this, yet Wonwoo stays perfectly quiet as he watches you thrash and moan above him. His hands rest comfortably at the curve of your waist, guiding your movements, all while offering up a few thrusts of his own.
It feels so fucking good whenever he hits that perfect spot inside you, but the pleasure pulls the wool over your eyes because you’re completely oblivious to the way Wonwoo is looking at you right now.
He was a fool to think that if he just had his way with you like he usually does, those delusions of his would go away naturally. That it would serve as an anchor to the reality of your relationship with him. But when Wonwoo has you chasing your high right before him—so devastatingly beautiful in the lowlights of your bedroom—he realizes he’s fucked.
All this does is make him fall even deeper in love with you. 
“S-So close,” you whimper, grinding down on his cock with each downward thrust. “Wonwoo, please, please. Fuck—!” 
He quickly shoots up from his initial position, lying down, fingers tangled in your hair as he forces your head close to meld your lips together once again. Wonwoo fucks up into you relentlessly, his breathing erratic against your mouth, all while he tries his best to keep all of his secrets from coming out of his own lips. 
You’re the most infuriating person he knows, but he can’t help but look after you anyways. He claims to hate you, but the way he’s rolling his hips into yours would tell a different story. You drive him insane each waking day, yet you have no clue of the extent of it.
He would never admit it—not in a million, billion years—but you’re Wonwoo’s favorite poison, and he’d rather watch himself burn from the inside out than find an antidote. 
He hates having to hide you away from the world like this. Hates treating you like some sort of dirty little secret. He’s allowed to share you with the world through anonymous pornography, but not as a bonafide lover, and it drives him up a fucking wall every time he thinks about it. 
But the thing about Wonwoo and sex is that once he finally gets to fuck the frustration out of his system, his clarity of mind is a bit too quick to settle. As he helps clean you up in the bathroom, he tells himself that it’s simply impossible for someone like you to want anything more with someone like him. After all, you said it yourself.
You don’t do relationships. 
Who the hell is Wonwoo to change your mind about that anyway?
“Wonwoo?”
He looks up at you just when he just finished wiping a cool, wet towel across your leg. “What?”
Your eyes shy away from his. “Um, you might call me a sap or something, but I…kinda liked it.”
“Liked what?”
“That,” you say while making some vague hand gestures at him. “When you were all gentle with me and stuff. I wouldn’t mind having soft Wonwoo again next time.”
Next time.
The words echo in Wonwoo’s mind far more than what he expected, and he finds himself frowning at the notion. Can he still keep up this charade, now that he’s aware of his feelings for you? How long can he continue the act until he inevitably slips up, and you find out?
How long does he have left before you drop him because he’s starting to want more from you?
“Wonwoo, where are you…?”
He doesn’t hear the rest of what you have to say because he’s already padding out of the bathroom—heart beating a little too loudly in his chest. Wonwoo fishes his glasses from the nightstand and the keys to his car. He’s more than intent on getting out of here as soon as possible, but it seems you have other plans.
“Hey,” you call out before tugging at his arm. Wonwoo forces himself not to meet your eyes, but he feels the intensity of your stare regardless. “You’re acting really fucking weird today. Is there something wrong? Did I do something you didn’t like?”
“No,” he mumbles, wanting to add, I’m the one who’s done something you won’t like, but opting to keep his silence instead. 
“Then…why are you acting like this?” 
The pleading look in your eyes almost makes him cave in and pour out everything that’s been flooding his heart for the past few days. It’s so easy to just rip the band-aid off and be honest. To risk everything for the abysmal chance of you reciprocating his feelings.
But Wonwoo knows that life isn’t a fucking gacha game, and he’s not about to throw away what he has with you now, especially when he knows what he wants doesn’t coincide with what you want. 
“Just having a shitty day,” he reasons, and the lie tastes like acid on his tongue. “I’ll text you later. Bye.”
Before Wonwoo steps out of your door, he makes another mistake of looking back. Now, he isn’t sure if he’ll ever get the image of you on the verge of tears as you stood all alone in your bedroom for reasons he’ll never know
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Wonwoo runs into Saerom in the supermarket one fateful afternoon.
Mingyu is usually the one who does the grocery runs for both of them—being the person who knows which brands are best for both food and apartment maintenance and all. But his best friend happened to land himself a modeling gig recently, and they rescheduled the shoot today on short notice. Wonwoo insisted that they could live another day without eating rice, but Mingyu was having none of it, and gave his roommate a full list of groceries he expects him to buy no later than today.
So here he is in the canned goods aisle, expression mirroring Saerom’s when she recognizes him as well. It’s not often that Wonwoo bumps into a familiar face in this part of town, so he’s rightfully surprised.
When she asks him if he’s free to have lunch with her at a nearby bistro, he sees no reason to decline. Saerom has always been his good friend, and it’s only natural for him to want to catch up. That, and he’s curious about what she’s doing here in the first place.
“I just moved into the neighborhood actually,” she explains once the waiter is done taking their orders. “Anyway, how are you? I haven’t spoken to you since that time I hijacked your stream.”
Wonwoo clearly remembers the day she asked him to look out for you all those months ago. Saerom is quite literally an angel, extending her concern even to the people who probably don’t need nor deserve it. He gulps down his water thickly, wondering if he should tell her the truth. 
But with how his brain seems to be all over the place these days, he ends up coming clean about it anyway.
When the food arrives, Wonwoo tells Saerom about the truth behind the porn videos implicating you in the past—how you’re actually the one being filmed in all of them. He also tells her about how Wonwoo takes part in the creation process of said videos (deciding to leave Johnny out of the story because that’s going to be another can of worms to deal with). Then, he ends the tall tale with the begrudging fact that he may or may not have caught feelings for someone he isn’t supposed to.
Saerom listens intently to each word—chewing on her salad with a contemplative look. She never betrays any sort of expression that would suggest her true opinions on the matter, which makes Wonwoo all too thankful that she’s the one he entrusted this with.
“I see,” she sighs once she’s finished the rest of her food. “I knew something was a bit off about her situation, but I’m glad that she’s safe, at least. Although about that budding romance of yours… Don’t you think it’ll be easier if you just discussed it with her directly? An outsider like me can only offer you so much advice, Wonwoo.”
He sighs, stabbing his food with his fork. “I know, but…what if she doesn’t want anything to do with me when she finds out how I really feel?”
Saerom lets out a wistful sigh—staring directly at Wonwoo like she intends for him to remember her next words for a long time.
“Then that’s your sign to find someone else who can accept the love you’re more than willing to give. If she turns you down, that’s more of her loss than yours, you know.”
Wonwoo wants to tell her she’s giving him too much credit. It almost sounds like Saerom is insisting that he’d actually make a good boyfriend. He half-wonders if he should ask her if she accidentally mistook him for Mingyu, but then Saerom’s phone rings in the middle of their conversation. 
It’s a short call, and Wonwoo doesn’t bother listening in to give her some privacy. When it ends, though, she bows her head in apology, letting him know that her boyfriend’s waiting for her at the parking lot.
“It’s nice meeting you again, Wonwoo.” She smiles before pulling him into a hug. “I hope your girl problems are already sorted out the next time I see you.”
Wonwoo lets out an uneasy laugh as he returns her embrace. 
He really hopes so, too. 
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One month.
It takes Wonwoo one entire month to reach out again, right after he left you without a word in your apartment last time. Part of him feels like he should be guilty for ghosting you so suddenly like that, but he swears he didn’t ghost you. 
He’s just…giving both of you some time and space away from each other. God knows his judgment gets clouded whenever he’s near you. 
Still, he doesn’t really expect you to forgive him for it right away. Much like Mingyu, you’re the sulky type. But while he usually deals with Mingyu’s sulking by leaving him alone for a few hours, that solution is counterproductive when it comes to you because…he’s already left you alone for a month. Wonwoo has a feeling that if he prolongs it any further, you might not talk to him ever again.
You were already wrapping up this evening’s stream when he left his own apartment, and he figures you’re getting ready for bed when he gets to yours.
His knuckles rap against the door once, twice, and he waits. 
Not that Wonwoo is counting, but it takes you five minutes to answer the door—already in your comfortable pajamas and your kitten skincare headband resting on top of your head. It seems that you weren’t expecting any late-night visitors when your eyes nearly bug out at the sight of him. 
“Won—” You shake your head as if you can’t even bear to say his name. “What are you doing here?”
He hesitates.
Wonwoo doesn’t have an answer for you. He gave you space for one month, and he still doesn’t know what to say when he finally deigned to show you his face. 
Your posture is rightfully apprehensive. Wonwoo can almost imagine how you’ve branded him as a raging ghoster in your head for the past few weeks. For a moment, he fears that you’ll throw him out of your apartment before he can even set foot in it, but you simply wait for him to respond—affording him some patience he definitely doesn’t deserve.
“I…” Wonwoo starts but his voice falters, forcing him to clear his throat awkwardly. “You’re getting better at using Chamber.”
You scowl at him, and if Mingyu was here, Wonwoo thinks he would’ve face-palmed because of how pathetic he’s being right now. 
Seriously? Bringing up the latest Valorant agent she’s playing when you’re supposed to say you’re in love with her? Wonwoo can practically hear his roommate in his head, along with an added, You’re so fucking mid, hyung. 
“Okay,” you say, still visibly wary of his presence. “Anything else? I’d rather get everything out of the way so you can continue ghosting me in peace.” 
Fuck. He knew it.
“I’m—” 
Sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was too scared of how I felt about you to deal with it like a normal person.
“—starting to think that you’re fine without me after all.”
At this point, Mingyu would’ve pummeled him to the ground.
Jeon Wonwoo, you have the emotional intelligence of a rock, imagination-Mingyu points out, and he couldn’t agree more.
“Well, thanks for pointing out the obvious. I am fine without you, asshole,” you bite back snarkily, making the motions to shut the door in his face, but Wonwoo wedges his foot in between. 
“Wait—fuck. I’m sorry,” he insists, swallowing thickly. “Can I come in? Please?”
The desperation in his tone makes you arch an eyebrow. Wonwoo never says please. It’s almost always the other way around, whether in a sexual context or not. So even if you know you should just leave him there like how he left you a month ago, you breathe out a sigh in defeat before opening the door wider for him.
“Fine.”
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You’ve never sat at your dining table with Wonwoo. You never had to. Whenever he comes over, it’s either to have sex or let you teach him about a game he can’t be assed to play on his own. He doesn’t stay long enough to warrant asking him if he wants some takeout or leftovers from the fridge, so seeing him nursing a glass of water across from you still feels surreal. 
“So are you going to explain why you suddenly just ditched me, or are we going to stew in the silence all night?” you ask. 
Wonwoo’s gaze flickers over to you irritably, and you hate to admit that the sight of that expression makes a pang of…something ripple in your chest. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, much less spoken to him, so even if you should be fucking mad, you can’t help but miss him. 
God fucking damn it.
He doesn’t answer right away. Like he’s carefully choosing which words he’ll allow you to hear and which would be better off unsaid. But if there’s something you’ve come to know about Wonwoo after all these months, it’s that he doesn’t have good intuition when it comes to other people’s emotions. 
Even if it seems like he’s being particularly careful about his words, that doesn’t guarantee that what’s going to come out of his mouth won’t be stupid.  
“I just had to clear my head for a while,” he says, providing no context whatsoever, and that makes you frown even more. 
“Clear your head?” you echo as you cross your legs. “From what?”
Wonwoo’s usually aloof look shifts for a moment. An unreadable expression flits across his face, but it’s gone before you can even make sense of it.
“It’s nothing you should worry about.”
“Nothing I should… Wonwoo, you were already acting strange the last time you were here. Then you went ahead and ignored me for an entire month!” You slam your hands on the table, the Wonwoo’s glass rattling in the process.
“How am I not supposed to worry when all this time, you made me think I was the reason you suddenly just flaked on me like that?”
He narrows his eyes at you, as if he doesn’t quite get why you’re pissed. “Why does it even matter? I’m just your fuck buddy, right? Why should you care if I just come and go whenever I feel like it?”
The apathetic tone that accompanies his words lances straight through your chest. Were you an idiot for believing that the look he wore earlier in front of your apartment was genuine? That he was actually apologetic for leaving you alone with your thoughts as you wondered what you could’ve possibly done to drive him away without a word?
Your fists shake from where you’re pressing them into the polished wood of your dining table. Wonwoo’s indifferent stare doesn’t let up, and as the white noise rings in your ears, it makes you wonder…
“Why’d I have to fall in love with someone like you?”
The words come out so softly, so quietly that you doubt Wonwoo would’ve heard you. But as your vision gets blurry with tears, you don’t see how�� surprise begins to eclipse his aloofness.
Wonwoo felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach when his ears caught what you just said. He couldn’t have heard wrong. It was too quiet in your apartment to mistake what you said for anything else.
You’re…in love with him?
“You know what?” You breathe in deeply, eyes darting up to the ceiling as you wipe off the evidence of your vulnerability. “Just…leave, Wonwoo. I can’t talk to you right now. Please.”
“Say it again.”
When your gaze drifts back to him, it’s accompanied with an expression twisted into disbelief.
“What?”
Before you can even think about what he could even mean by that, Wonwoo gets up from his seat, striding over to your side of the table. You flash him another apprehensive stare, but all of a sudden, he cups your face in both of his hands—delicately, like he’s afraid of breaking something precious.
“Tell me you’re in love with me.”
You immediately bristle at his request. “Are you fucking insane? I know you’re a sadist but—”
Wonwoo presses forward without warning—capturing your lips in an unsolicited kiss that catches you off guard but angers you at the same time. No matter how badly you missed having him pressed up against you in more ways than one, you’re not going to let him trample on your feelings again. 
“I hate you,” you rasp, salty tears breaking their tension across your lashes as they slide down your cheeks in glistening streaks. “I fucking hate you, Jeon Wonwoo.”
Your words carry little weight to them, and Wonwoo is completely aware of this. Almost like he’s trying to placate you, he wipes your tears away with the pads of his thumbs—that hard-eyed gaze weathering into something softer, more sincere with each passing second. 
You abhor how handsome he looks like this.
“Is that your way of telling someone you love them?” he chuckles breathlessly, lips rising to the crown of your head as he presses a soft kiss on top. “If that’s the case, then…”
“I fucking hate you, too.”
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Wonwoo isn’t sure how long the two of you have been going at it, but by your fourth orgasm, your newfound lover is yet to be sated.
“Again,” he growls, tugging your limp body closer to his. “Say it again.”
One of the things Wonwoo particularly likes about exploring all sorts of sexual escapades with you is that you teach him things about himself that he never even knew about. 
First was that stupid daddy kink, and now…
“I love you,” you whimper, mindlessly grinding against his still hard cock despite being worn and spent. “I love you, Wonwoo.”
Despite the fact that your honesty drives him to near-insanity, Wonwoo can’t help the relieved sigh that fills his veins every time you utter the words. At first, you stubbornly kept up the act of hating him as he railed you into the mattress, but with every mind-numbing orgasm, your hate slowly bled into love, and Wonwoo finds it fucking cathartic. 
You beat him to what he came over to tell you himself. It was a little embarrassing on his part, he has to admit, but there’s some sort of relief that comes with knowing the same person he’s been vying for also feels the same way.
He’ll tell you the words properly someday.
Maybe not today or tomorrow, but Wonwoo promises that he’ll let you hear how much he adores you soon enough.
For now, he’ll give you one last release.
He’s certain that he can still go one more round, but he can’t really say the same for you. If Wonwoo makes you cream on his cock one more time, he’s afraid you’ll actually pass out from exhaustion. 
So instead, he lays you down on your plush pillows—crawling lower down your body until he finds himself between your legs. He chuckles when you crane your neck weakly to see what he’s trying to do, but Wonwoo is already hooking your thighs over his shoulders before you can say a word.
Your body twitches from oversensitivity as his tongue laves at your ruined cunt—not caring that his own spend has mixed with yours from where the creamy liquid seeps from your hole. Wonwoo groans into your cunt when your thighs squeeze around his head as if meaning to suffocate him with your pussy.
Honestly? If that’s the way he’s gonna go, he’ll accept it with open arms.
“Daddy,” you mewl, fingers tangling in his tousled hair. “I c-can’t anymore…”
Wonwoo suckles at your clit in response, earning himself a high-pitched whine as you roll your hips into his face. For someone who claims she can’t come anymore, you’re awfully eager for him to pinpoint your orgasm again.
“You can, baby,” he insists, peppering your inner thighs with kisses. “You can ‘cause you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” 
He feels your inner muscles clenching at his words, and Wonwoo makes a mental note to praise you more often. You might just like that more than his run-of-the-mill dirty talk after all.
“‘m your good girl,” you babble. “Always daddy’s good girl.”
Fuck. You’re going to be the death of him.
When you’ve recovered from the crest of your final orgasm, Wonwoo carries you to the bathroom and carries you into a bath he’d drawn himself. You complain about how he didn’t set the temperature in the tub right, and Wonwoo promises to do better next time. 
As the two of you soak in the semi-warm water, Wonwoo rests his head against the tiled wall—the fatigue starting to seep into his bones. He doesn’t let himself complain, though, because if he’s feeling spent, he can only imagine how sore you must be feeling. He wonders if he should order some food for the both of you or just let you sleep right away.
“Wonwoo?”
He raises an eyebrow at your meek voice calling out to him. “Yeah?”
You shift a little on his lap, turning around as droopy eyes bore into his. Wonwoo is about to call you out for being weird, but the words evaporate on his tongue when you lean forward to peck his lips. 
“Can I borrow your phone?”
He tilts his head to the side, wondering why you’re asking for his phone. You couldn’t possibly be asking him to film some content here in the tub…right?
Wonwoo watches in complete silence as you open his Twitter app—further feeding into his curiosity. But he doesn’t comment on whatever it is you’re about to do, patiently watching as you maneuver around the accounts logged onto his phone. 
However, when you pull up on the Settings tab of that porn account the two of you have been running for months, scrolling all the way down—
“What are you doing?” he asks as your finger hovers over the ‘Deactivate account’ button.
You glance at him, confused. “I’m getting rid of this account. What else does it look like?”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why? I can’t share my sex tapes with the rest of the world now that I have a boyfriend.”
The bathroom falls silent for about three heartbeats before Wonwoo wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. You yelp in surprise, struggling against his iron-tight grip in a way that has water splashing all around you. Wonwoo couldn’t care less, though.
“I love you,” he murmurs into the naked skin of your shoulder. 
You don’t respond for a while, like you’re surprised by his easy admission. But the tension in Wonwoo’s spine unravels when you rest your head across his shoulder, chuckling as you caress his face tenderly.
“Don’t you dare think I’ll let you off the hook though,” you chide. “You’ve got several months of dates to make up for. Just because you took the express lane into being my boyfriend, doesn’t mean you get to skip out on the effort that normally comes with it.”
Wonwoo shakes his head, turning your face so his eyes can meet yours. 
He can’t believe he was stupid enough to run away from his own feelings for an entire month. If only he’d been more honest with both you and himself the last time he was here, he could’ve spent all the weeks after with you cradled in his embrace.
But then again, it’s the choices you both made so far that led you to where you are now.
And for now, he’s perfectly content with that.
“Challenge accepted.”
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part one - part two - part three - part four
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q: is there going to be a third part? a: yes! however, part 3 is literally just in its early stages of creation. i don't even have a serious doc for it, just a few vague plot bunnies gathering dust in my head SJDFHDFG BUT since i'm feeling generous, attached below is a little sneak peek of what you can expect!
This is, by far, the worst day of Mingyu’s life. Okay, maybe he’s exaggerating, but he likes to think that he’s a man of routine. If he doesn’t get to do his morning rituals right before his streams, it feels like the world has been tilted a few degrees off its proper axis. And that’s exactly what’s happening now, when Mingyu realizes that his favorite Twitter porn account is nowhere to be found.  How the hell is he supposed to get his daily dose of relief now?
aaaaaand that's all i have for now! thank you so much for waiting patiently for this installment! it took me an entire month since i posted the teaser, but here it is hehe :3c i hope you all liked it! do stay tuned for that third part, whenever the hell i can get around to writing it T T
this is part of the game over series!
4K notes · View notes
mx-pastelwriting · 8 months ago
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Raison d'être
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(Post-War) Cooper Howard x GN! Reader
Summary: Your marriage had been ripped apart by Vault-Tec, only to be sown back together 200 years later.
Warnings: Slight Angst, Established Relationship, Sad Reuniting, Soft Cooper, Kissing, Hugs
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Heavy as your limps were walking through the dry desert powered by adrenaline born from the pain that pulsed through your arms. Having broken from the glass pod, waking from a long slumber, only guessing it was for a long time by the open vault door showing the desert land with no human life to greet you.
Finally arriving at a small, worn house, having your sights on it a mile back. Hoping no life lived behind the broken boards of wood, with slow motions made your way in, looking around for anything to use as a weapon.
Yet finding nothing, not even a piece of the wood that once held the place up. To your luck, nothing sprang with life, letting you relax under a roof after the sun's harsh rays ate away at your skin for miles. Sitting on the worn-out couch, feeling every limp break down, welcoming more pain, not being able to move taking up the time with looking about seeing empty food cans, beer bottles, and small glass vials. 
Quickly your thoughts pulled away, now fully on the noise of footsteps outside, hearing the mysterious person cruse before the door opened, only for them to quickly notice your broken existence.
Many emotions mixed on the man's face, seeing his skin looking as if it had healed from burns. Though that wasn’t what stood out the most, seeing his eyes widen with his mouth opening agape, he stepped forward allowing you to see his saddened eyes.
Feeling as if they were familiar, having memories of those pair of eyes loving, comforting, and desiring you. As quickly as the memories came, so did the eyes turn to anger, drawing their gun on you. “You’re not real,” he says through tightened teeth. Hearing the accented voice sparked familiarity in you, once again reminding you of the man’s existence.
“Coop?” You choked out, dry as your throat was the tears that welled up in your vision didn’t stop your throat watering with cries. "Coop, is that you?” Asking through cries, fighting the pain that screamed through your body in getting up from the couch.
Standing there in shock watching your attempt to get to him, lowering the aim of the gun moving in a fast motion, wrapping his arms around you. Squeezing tight, allowing choked sobs to roar out of you, the memories of that day came back, having been scared the moment you saw Cooper’s face when the vault door closed on him, having pushed you in, sacrificing himself never thinking you would be back in his warm embrace.
The same embrace you gave to him in the past, whether it had been loving or comfort from the world of his career shunned him, you stood by the man you loved. Your husband.
“I thought you-“ A sob stopped your words, but thankfully he spoke, “I came by every day, hopin’.” He whispered hand on your head, keeping you close. “I stared at the vault door till I couldn't.” He went on, only letting you in a little on the pain he went through, yet here he was alive. 
Breaking away from the tightness of the embrace looking at each other, seeing the familiar handsome eyes you fell in love with all those years ago. “You haven’t changed a bit,” he says, smiling, returning the same while looking over his new features, falling in love all over again.
“I know I ain’t the prettiest, but-“ Not letting him finish the self-doubting words with your lips, returning the kissing, Placing a hand on his scared cheek, causing his pull to tighten as if he had waited for this moment for years, living on just for you.
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A/N: Let me know if ya’ll want a part two!
Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!
𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @emoguardian
400 notes · View notes
stargirlrchive · 9 months ago
Text
INVISIBLE STRING — CASSIAN!
pairing: cassian x morrigan (half) sister reader
notes: :3 hi hi this is so scary. i haven’t posted a full thought out fic in probably a year (crazy) and i would like to say i have not finished the series so if timeline is inaccurate and just plots don’t make sense w canon it’s bc im still on acowar :p but cassian has taken over my brain and i can’t get him out of it !!!! c: part two is already being worked on bc im so proud of her. i hope u all enjoy it <3 ++ i know mor is described as being blonde and fairly pale in complexion which is why i made reader her half sibling, and there are no descriptions of reader’s physical attributes bc i wanted to kept it as neutral as possible :3
cw: angst, hurt no comfort (yet?), azriel’s shadows being the biggest cassreader shippers ever, unrequited love but really it’s just idiots in love. also mentions (brief) of abuse from keir (gross!)
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Your fingers nervously fumbled with the straps of your leathers. Heart pounding in your ears as you forced yourself to drop the nervous jitters, fingers balling into tight fist to stop their trembling.
It had been a long time since you had last seen your family. A long time since your gaze met violet eyes, or your nose scented cedar wood and night chilled mist. The lingering scent of sea salted water and citrus, and fresh paint and vanilla, and sweet wine and roses had nearly erased from your memory. But what you missed the most was the red gleam of siphons that glowed ruby red under certain light.
Truly, in an immortals life time half a decade was just a blip in time, minuscule, but you had never been gone this long from them. Especially not from Rhys, Az, Mor, and Cassian, with the exception of Rhysand’s imprisonment under the mountain.
You blinked away the burning in your eyes as you pushed open the doors of the town house. Soft chatter growing cold at the unexpected intrusion. You had barely enough time to register everyone seated at the table when shadows were zooming past their master to greet you excitedly.
Nuzzling into your hair and neck and arms. Azriel’s shadows had always been so fond of you. Whispering and singing in your ear in a language you could not understand.
They tugged you forward, until you were stumbling clumsily as they dragged you towards Cassian. An ache settled deep in your chest as you fought against them gently, moving between Azriel and Rhys. You missed the flash of hurt in hazel eyes as you avoided him.
Five years later and he still didn’t know the truth of your departure. Before your thoughts could send you spiraling, Rhys’ voice called your name. An undeniable smile in his voice before his arms were enveloping you, “Cousin, you’re back.”
“I am.” Your throat felt thick, tongue heavy as you fought back tears. His scent had always comforted you, Rhys had given you and Mor a chance. A lifeline in the sea that you were drowning in, in Hewn City.
Two sisters, both forced into a world that was cruel and unkind. Morrigan as rightful Heir of Keir had experienced the brunt of it all. From being stuffed into tight dress, to being pranced around in front of grimy men, and nearly forced into a life with a male whose family’s cruelty knew no bounds.
Your torment had been in forms of neglect and isolation. Your father had never much cared for you, being a product of affairs, his bastard, he left you alone. Barely acknowledged your presence when at the mere age of nine you were thrown into his arms from your mother’s father, stating you were no longer his responsibility since your mother’s death. Your father’s neglect, you now realized, had been a blessing.
You were Mor’s shadow. Clinging to her as any younger sister would. Always causing trouble until you learned to obey. Mor never let you experience the abuse from your father fully. Always taking the blame, always hiding you. You owed her and Rhys, your family, everything.
There was a soft clearing of a throat that pulled you and your High Lord apart. Shadows greedily pulling you to face everyone else. Azriel’s hazel eyes assessing you, looking for any injuries before his fingers were squeezing your elbow gently. A soft hello.
Your eyes flickered around the room, and you realized just how much had changed. Your High Lady, and dear friend seated at the head of the table, Rhys by her side. Besides him sat Azriel and then Elain.
Your throat tightened as you allowed your eyes to flicker to the other side, Nesta beside Feyre, and Cassian beside her. Amren had most likely skipped out dinner to enjoy the privacy of her apartment, and Mor was no longer around. Preferring to spend her time on the continent.
The golden thread that tied you to the Lord of Bloodshed sung loudly and happily in your chest. Five years since you had last laid eyes on him and the feeling alone nearly brought you to your knees.
Your eyes flickered away from Cassian, ignoring the way your heart and soul begged you not to. “Is my room still available?”
Feyre sent you a soft smile, sad really, as she realized how desperately you wished to find some peace and quiet. She knew of your affections for the General, and how you had never told him only to watch him fall in love with her sister.
“Of course it is, but you should join us.”
You swallowed roughly at Rhys’ words, unable to stop the gnawing pain in your heart and the cruel words circling in your mind. Cassian was not yours, he had never been and it was unfair of you to expect him to love you the way you had always yearned for him too. But it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, it always fucking hurt.
“I’m quite tired, maybe tomorrow.” Rhys didn’t push, just affectionately tucked your hair behind your pointed ear and let you go.
Your steps were quick, hurried and Cassian’s voice sounded like smooth velvet as he called your name. You didn’t stop, your knees nearly buckling under your weight as you forced yourself to keep walking.
Mumbling a quiet, “Goodnight,” before disappearing into the hallways in search of your bedroom.
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During your five years away at Day the turmoil in your heart had eased, if only slightly. Cassian would unintentionally send his emotions down the bond, and it seemed it always happened when your heart had finally let you rest.
When you finally saw light at the end of a never ending tunnel of despair, the mating bond would reel you in, viciously and unforgiving. You were sure you were being punished.
How dare you ever try to question what the Mother wanted for you?
Being back in Velaris, being back home, felt so much worse. With the distance, even when his emotions poured into your very bones, it felt weakened. Less tethered to you.
But now? Now you felt his sorrow so deeply tears fell freely down your cheeks.
You had only been trying to sleep for a few hours, your rest had been fitful at best, anxiety prickling at your fingertips as you threw the warm blanket off of you. You needed air. You needed clarity.
Your feet moved on their own. From what you last knew there were no longer many residents here. You were careless in thinking so as your feet moved hurriedly through the house and out into the garden.
Filling your lungs with air as tears prickled at your eyes, the cold nipping at your skin as you sunk into one of the benches placed around the area.
You had only been in his presence for a mere five minutes and your heart was already waging a war against you.
Maybe you could convince Rhys to send you off once again. Your years away at Day had been filled with research and insight, maybe you could do the same at Dawn. Or any other Court that wasn’t here. Gods, you’d even take the forsaken libraries in the Hewn City if it meant not being here. You’d beg if you had too because this, this was too much.
You let out a shaky breath as your mind ruthfully plagued you with memories of the past. Of your utter devastation of hearing that Mor had slept with Cassian.
Of the guilt you felt after, when you avoided her in anger and utter jealousy and then told of the way she was savagely left to die.
You would never forgive yourself.
Remembering when you realized you were utterly and hopelessly devoted to your life long friend, and learning to live with just having a small part of him for you.
Hoping and praying to the Mother that he’d love you back. Hoping to see a spark of honeyed warmth, or a lick of jealousy when you found solace in the warmth of another. Anything, you prayed and prayed, but she never answered.
Not until you had pinned him down on the training matt, wings sprawled out beneath him as you stared at him smugly. A soft, primal, smirk on his face as he gripped your thighs. “You’re getting better.”
Your laughter filtered through the open area, “Only ‘better’? I just kicked your ass.”
He grunted, tugging you gently and in a quick succession of movements had flipped you over, pinning you to the ground. His thighs caged over yours, pinning your hands above your head as he sent you a toothy smile.
The wind that had been knocked out of you was not due to the fact your back had hit against the matt, but because something snapped inside of you. An invisible golden thread, darting from your chest to his, so visceral you could almost taste it, singing happily at finally being acknowledged.
But he gave no indication that he had felt the mating bond snap into place, “Yes, ‘better’. Because you should know not to let your guard down.”
Your speechlessness could’ve been a product of being bested in sparring, your mind racing with things to say but nothing came out.
The fog that had formed in your brain cleared at the bark of laughter that left Azriel, “If you two are done flirting, get back to sparring or leave the ring.”
You don’t remember what excuse you used to suddenly needing to leave but you did. Hope sparkling in your chest at what you thought was an answered prayer by the Mother. He was yours, just as much as you were his.
Only for the ember to burn to ash quickly, as two nights after Cassian had come to you looking for guidance on how to court Nesta.
You tried so hard, pushing down the mating bond that roared and screamed in utter agony as he spilled to you his affections for the eldest Archeron.
Your heart stuttering and begging for release of this pain as your mind caught up to you. He’d never see you. He hadn’t before, so what would be so different now? What would suddenly make you worthy in his eyes? The mating bond?
You realized quickly that you didn’t want that. Didn’t want him to love you just because fate decided to pair you together. You wanted him to love you, to yearn for you the way you had for him without something telling him to.
So with a forced smile you consoled him. Running your fingers through his hair and giving him advice on how to win her heart.
Some days you cursed yourself for that night. You wished you had been selfish and told him he was yours. But then the guilt would settle and you knew you’d never have the heart to force that onto your dearest friend.
In the end all you wanted was his happiness, if that was with someone else then you’d have to learn to live with it.
It had all led up to the night where you accidentally walked in on Nesta and Cassian in the kitchen at the House of Wind, lips and tongues tangled.
The mating bond felt like it was burning you alive from the inside out, angry and volatile as it blamed you for pushing him into her arms.
You’re not sure how you ended up in Rhys office, your face pressed into him as your fingers tried to claw at the hurt in your chest, “Make it stop, Rhys. Gods please, just make it stop.”
He had never seen you like this, never seen you in such despair as he tried to calm you down. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to help you.
Only held you in his arms and sang a lullaby his mother had always sang to the three of you as children. Your desperation and pain eased and numbness eventually coated your insides.
“Send me away.”
He hesitated, wiping your tears as Feyre’s soothing touch caressed your back. His violet eyes shining with hurt and concern for you, “What are you running from?”
Your thoughts were interrupted by the deep timber of a voice you were so familiar with,“Is it just me, or are you avoiding me?”
Heat quickly ran from your skull down to your spine at the velvety voice that belonged to Cassian. Your back tensing uncomfortably as you turned to look at him.
You refrained from letting your eyes glaze down his form. Bare chested and wings lazily held up as his brows furrowed when he took you in.
“Cassian-what are you doing here?”
You stood up from your seated position as he moved closer. His eyes never leaving yours, “Here as in the gardens or here as in my home?”
Your brows furrowed, were he and Nesta now permanently in the town house? It would’ve made sense, seeing as they were all here, having dinner earlier.
“In-in the gardens.”
His lips twisted up into a small quirk of a smile, his eyes lingering on your face as if trying to reacquaint himself with your features.
Your heart lurched to your throat as his gaze lingered on your lips before he looked back into your eyes. “I heard you walking around. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“How did you know it was me?”
His lips tugged into a proper smile this time, “Who else could it be?”
He couldn’t bring himself to tell you that he’d long ago familiarized himself with the sound of your steps.
Your brows pinched together, full lips tugging into a small frown, “Where is everyone else?”
“Elain is most likely off in Lucien’s apartment, Azriel is at the House of Wind.”
And despite yourself, you asked, “And Nesta?”
Your throat bobbed softly, heart already preparing itself to hear that she was tangled in his sheets in his room. A soft shrug came from him, muscles flexing deliciously at the movement, “Probably with her mate.”
Your heart stuttered in your chest at his words. Her mate? You were sure the confusion was evident on your face as Cassian laughed. “It’s a bit unfair isn’t it? She was made a measly six years ago, and she’s found who her soul is tethered to, while we’ve been around for centuries and have no luck.”
“Lucky her.”
He hummed, eyes glazing over your face and the look in his eyes was unrecognizable. Warm and honeyed. It made your stomach twist and turn into uncomfortable knots.
“I should go to bed, Cassian. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You made to walk away from him, but his rough fingers wrapped around your forearm in a touch that could only be described as gentle. When you finally looked up at him his brows were pinched together in confusion, and hurt.
“What’s with the full name?”
“It’s yours, isn’t it?”
His eyes narrowed slightly at your words, “You’ve used it on me twice in the span of a few minutes. I’m never ‘Cassian’ to you.”
A stretch of silence passed between the two of you, you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know how to act around him anymore.
Gods, you had come around to the idea of seeing him tangled with Nesta. But you were back and he was single. Or at least not with her and you don’t know what you feared most.
That your heart would take this as hope and yearn for him, and watch him fall for another, or to finally tell him how you felt. If it would even mean anything to him, if he’d even want you.
You couldn’t do it, you wouldn’t. You refused to let hope spark in your heart when he had already tangled himself into your very being like overgrown ivy. You don’t know if you’d survive any more rejection.
His voice was softer this time, thick fingers cupping your cheeks and jaw, forcing you to look at him, “You were gone five years and I can barely get five sentences out of you before you’re running away from me.”
Tears stung behind your eyes as your throat tightened at the hurt twinging his voice. It took everything in you to not soothe the crease between his brows, your body tensing softly as his thumb caressed your bottom lip gently, “If I have offended you, or hurt you some how tell me how to fix it. I have been waiting for five years for your return and I cannot stand to think that this whole time you were away you were angry with me.”
You wished you could speak, but your tongue felt heavy. The hurt in his eyes turned to something akin to despair at your silence, his hands dropped from caressing your face to hang loosely by his side, his wings slumped against the floor.
You let out a shuddering breath, forcing yourself to look away from him, “I should go to bed.”
And this time he didn’t stop you.
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Weeks had trickled by so slowly since your return to Velaris as you tried to find your place back in your home court.
You had never been particularly good at fighting, your strength came from your knowledge. Books and literature had been something you had clung to as a child and it never left you.
You digested text in a way the inner circle did not, memorized details and names and faces others struggled with. But that did not mean Azriel was any easier on you when it came to training.
The muscles in your abdomen ached painfully, your arms felt heavy and filled with sand as he squared up once more. “I need a break.”
“You need to focus.”
A whine ripped from your throat in protest, Az’s shadows peppering cooling kisses and caresses on your skin to try and comfort you. “Just a few minutes. Please?”
“You think if someone were to try and attack you, they’d spare you if you whined like a petulant child?”
At your silence and glare he continued, “Didn’t think so.”
Your fingers balled into fist as you readied yourself, your muscles heavy with exhaustion as you threw punch after punch his way. “Remain focused, let yourself do what feels instinctual.”
You were sure you would’ve passed whatever Azriel’s standards were had his shadows not wrapped around your legs. Tugging insistently and trying to drag you away.
You heard Azriel’s noise of protest as he tried to rein his shadows back but they refused. Your head turned towards the direction in which they were tugging you in only to be met with Cassian’s warm hazel eyes already on you.
With an accidental misstep you were tumbling forward, falling far too quickly to catch yourself. Your head ringing harshly as the side of your face smacked against the mat.
Someone called out your name in a panic, and you missed the way Cassian had roughly pushed Azriel away from you as he turned you around.
His eyes frayed with worry as your eyes remained unfocused, “Can you look at me, dove?”
You blinked a few times before a groan of discomfort left your mouth, “What the fuck happened?”
Azriel’s shadows sheepishly began to caress your skull, pressing kisses of apologies on your skin. You didn’t hear anything besides tiny wisps of whispers coming from them but you’re were sure they hissed at Cassian as he shooed them away.
It took you a few minutes but you were eventually able to sit. Your ears ringing and still a little dizzy but you were feeling better despite the throb on your temple.
Azriel’s shadows peered at you from behind him sheepishly, and it was only when you extended your hand to them that they swarmed you in a flurry. Rubbing against your neck and hair affectionately, being careful with the side of your face but caressing you softly.
“They say they’re sorry.”
Your lips quirked up at Azriel’s words, “They’re forgiven.”
They buzzed in excitement, before stilling softly as Cassian extended a hand out for the shadows. They treaded carefully, lightly caressing his arm as in apology as if they had also offended him.
A few swirled around your hand and fingers, tugging it much more gently into Cassian’s extended hand. Your cheeks warmed up in embarrassment but before you could pull away, he tangled his fingers with yours.
The shadows swirled around your intertwined hands as if proud of themselves before finally returning to their master. Azriel sent you a soft smirk, and with a shake of his head diseapeared into a mass of dark misty shadows.
“Are you alright?”
You nodded slowly, retorting in exasperation, “Just feels like I hit my head.”
Cassian’s lips tugged into a soft smile, helping you up and not dropping your tangled fingers, “Let’s get you to Madja.”
He pulled you along closely, walking you both towards the edge of the training area. Before you could overthink about being so tangled in his arms he wrapped himself around you. One hand cradling the back of your head to his chest, while the other gripped the back of your thighs.
Your heart pummeled to your stomach as he took off flying, it had been so long since you felt the breeze against your face like this. Your legs wrapping around him as a startled laugh left your mouth.
You felt his laugh more than you heard it, his chest rumbling against yours and for the first time in years, your heart felt at ease around Cassian.
No turmoil or anguish, just overflowing affection and happiness as he flew you carefully around Velaris. Your face tucked away from being so pressed to his chest to look up at him and your breath hitched.
He was truly so beautiful, rough and sharp features that looked like he was made out of stone carving. His lips the perfect shade of dusty rose and plump, his nose fit him beautifully too, slightly crooked at the slope from being broken over the years. White-raised scars on his beautiful tan skin. You were so close you could see the faintest of freckles that doted his skin.
“You didn’t pass out on me, did you?”
Heat bloomed on your cheeks at getting so lost admiring him before you tucked your face back into his chest, “No, I’m fine.”
His fingers squeezed around your thighs as he pulled you closer before he descended down to the Town House.
You were grateful for the hand he kept placed on your back as he walked you into the house. Your dizziness hitting you once again as you landed on solid ground. The warmth running down your spine at his heated touch had you suppressing a shiver.
Your bones ached in protest when he pulled away and sat you down in front of an amused Rhys and exasperated Madja. The elder lady frowning at the bruise on your temple.
“Cassian, I’ve told you not to be so rough when training,” Madja’s soothing voice chastised the General. Your lips tugging into an amused smiled at the noise of protest that left his mouth.
“It was Azriel’s shadows that caused this.”
Madja’s eyes narrowed softly at his words but said nothing more. A hiss leaving your lips as she pushed against the bump forming near your eye.
Cassian’s fingers twitched nervously at the sound of your discomfort. His eyes glued to you as you were looked over by the healer.
Something warm and comfortable hummed in his chest seeing you. The weeks you had been back were nothing short of torture for him.
In the five years you had been gone Cassian came to the devastating realization that he was utterly and unabashedly enamored with you. Cursing himself for the time wasted on pointless lovers, on Nesta, when you had been by his side for the better half of four centuries.
His heart cracking open and knocking him over one restless night as his mind tormented him with everything he had been lacking since you had departed to Day.
He figured that he had always loved you, had always cared for you. But the twisting of his gut in your absences alerted him that it was in a way that was different from Mor and Amren, and then Feyre. His obsession with needing you near, needing you safe stemmed from some thing else entirely.
It took four months of being away from you to realize that. Cursing himself at all the time wasted.
And it wasn’t as if he didn’t try to get ahold of you while you were studying and researching to your hearts content at Day. He had sent letter after letter, received few responses but he had figured you were busy.
His skin had only started to crawl with dread and anxiety when there had been reasons for the Inner Circle to attend a meeting, or some grand ball thrown by Helion, and you were never there.
Either whisked away to some other Court for extended research or taking time away to visit your sister.
The very last time he had stepped foot in Day while you had been there was about three months before your return. Rhys had granted him permission to seek you out.
And when he stepped foot into Day Court’s palace in search of you his hope dwindled as Helion informed him that you had just left a few days prior for a fourteen day tour at Autumn Court. But he swore he scented the soft jasmine and lavender cream that he recognized as your scent roaming the halls.
Resigned, he returned home.
Then you returned, so careful and tense in his presence he wished to turn back back to when things were easier between the two of you. When his face would nuzzle into your soft belly as you ran your fingers through his hair and consoled him after a nightmare.
Or how he’d find his favorite pastries wrapped up on the counter that he knew you’d gone out of your way to get him.
He missed when his feelings hadn’t tangled themselves so deeply into you and he could just be. Gods, did he miss you. He yearned and ached and burned for you while you seemed content at keeping him an arms length away.
The mother could be so cruel.
He barely registered Rhys pressing an affectionate kiss to your bruised temple and mumbling that he was taking Madja back before something so earth shattering was unraveling in his chest.
His eyes wide and chest heaving the second the two of you were alone and your eyes met. A deeply rich golden invisible thread darting from his chest to yours.
He had unconsciously poured all his emotions of recognizing the bond down your connection. A primal need to be closer to you bursting from his chest as he tugged on the bond.
Your breath hitched, but you didn’t seem surprised he noted. Your side of the bond closed off tightly he could feel nothing from your end. He hated that.
Your eyes were wide in apprehension as you stared at him, tears lining your eyes as his emotions of love and devotion were so strong they brought him to his knees before you. Pleading and desperate as he called out your name.
“Don’t do this, Cassian.”
His brows pinched together as he reached for you, the bond screaming in agony as you avoided his touch and stood up to create some space between the two of you.
“Dove, listen to me. Please.” He was not above begging, still kneeled in the center of the room as his wings slumped to the ground. His eyes following your every move as you nervously ran your fingers through your hair.
“I feel it, I feel you.” His fingers and hands were steady as he pointed to his chest despite the feeling of anxiety creeping into him.
“You’re mine, my mate, dove.”
There was a beat of silence, Cassian staring at you as if you had delicately placed every beautiful star in the sky. But you had never seen him look at you like that before.
Never had he inclined he wanted you besides the bond. Gods, did it hurt. Your stomach churned sadly as your fingers balled into fist as you shook your head in denial.
“No. No, you don’t get to just suddenly want me because of the bond. I don’t want it this way.”
His frown deepened at your words, your emotions so heavily felt they started to crack the walls you kept up and pouring into the bond.
You had known for years. Five years, you had known and said nothing. “Gods, Cassian! I have loved you for so long. Prayed and begged to the Mother, to the Cauldron, to the Moon and Stars to have you return my affection and you didn’t.”
Cassian wanted to speak, to protest your words but the frustrated tears pouring down your beautiful face and the agony building in his chest, that was no longer just his, kept him quiet. “I’ve watched you pine and love others, and you have never looked at me that way. You had never thought me worthy of you in that way, and now that you know. It shouldn’t change a thing.”
“But it does,” His fingers itched to devote themselves to you. To memorize every curve and dip on your body. “It changes everything-”
You cut him off before he could continue, before he could tell you that he now felt worthy of loving you. That he now knew he could love you in a way you deserved if the Mother had blessed him with you as his wonderful mate. “Well it shouldn’t.”
You sniffled softly as you stared at him directly in his eyes, “I don’t want it to.”
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blackknight-kai · 3 months ago
Note
Any headcanons for Sun Wukong and the Destined One [separate] catching female reader masturbating while crying out their name?
GOING BRAINROT FERAL HERE!
Ahem….
Thank you for feeding us with your delicious posts;)
Sending you lots of love and blessings, sincere and heartfelt health wishes too🩷🩷🩷
Okay okay I’ll give this a shot 😏 I personally feel like it might depend on the mood and where they are in the relationship. BUT I’ll give a crack at this one! This will be a specific scenario as I work better like that - in this you are in a relationship with them but haven’t progressed to the next level yet and you are a bit pent up. There will be a little rushed snippet and then the bullet point notes :) WARNING: I went more NSFW in this than previous asks. This is Fem reader! MINOR DNI
(Note after finishing: I got carried away…..after writing this I realized I kinda made two fics so….its a bit long sorry not sorry :))))))))))) (I’ll be turning these into mini fics I think on AO3 since i basically wrote them already 💀)
(Read under the cut 😘)
Destined One
He’d left you alone to scout the area around your near and camp as he does every night for any possible danger or trouble that might happen upon you while resting. You’d decided to take a little personal time while he was away, something you wouldn’t normally do but you guys had found a little cozy cave to rest in for the night. Knowing it would be a while before he came back you set about quickly setting up your furs and bed rolls, your body already revving up in anticipation for what youre going to do. You’re happy being with him, finally having confessed mutually and sneaking a few kisses here or there between your travels but watching him day in and day out fight with such focus and strength has culminated in a prominent need.
A need to have his hands on you for more than just guiding you or helping you stand, to feel his fur brush against your naked skin, to deepen those tantalizing kisses. You just WANT. And he hasn’t made any moves to show you that he wants more besides maybe what you think is a disappointed look in his eye when you both pull back from your kisses and go about your day or whatever task is at hand. He’s not very expressive as it is, you were lucky to manage getting a slight flush on his cheeks and a firm head nod when you guys decided to be a couple. He’s good at masking his emotions and so while you want him, youre a bit nervous to tell him what you need. You have no doubts he’d fulfill it especially if it’s something he wants too. But getting the courage up to ask is another thing entirely, part of you wishes he would just DO something.
So instead of communicating your need you decide to take advantage of this prime opportunity while he is away, its been too long since you had any real privacy and you can already feel yourself pulse as you finish setting up for the night
Just in case you listen closely for a moment to see if there is anyone close by but hearing nothing you settle down on to your back on your bed roll. Your breath picks up as excitement washes over you and against your better judgment you slip your clothes off. Goose bumps ripple over your skin as the warm breeze gently flows through the cave. Your heart races and as you skim your fingers across your breasts and nipples you sigh as you close your eyes and imagine familiar claw tipped hands replacing your own. You picture him above you, his determined frown focused on you as he explores your skin. As your imagination takes hold you continue your perusal of your body sliding your fingers down trying not to rush too much in your need as you spread your thighs.
- [ ] His patrol doesnt take quite as long as it usually does tonight
- [ ] At first he takes his time heading back just enjoying not having to be in a rush for once
- [ ] But as his too sharp hearing picks up the distant sound of your voice, what sounds like a pained cry, he immediately goes tense and is off running back towards your cave his staff gripped tightly in hand
- [ ] As he quickly grows closer he notes a distinct difference in your voice, something about it makes him slow down
- [ ] Your sounds are not what he usually associates with your fear or pain
- [ ] Instead as the next sound carries through the forest for his expert hearing, the breathy tone of your voice instantly sends a ripple through him and makes his fur feel like its standing on end
- [ ] He’d heard these sounds before, just not from you. The other monkey’s from home would occasionally sneak off with each other and he’d have the pleasure of hearing their activities even being quite a ways away.
- [ ] This though doesnt give him the same grossed out feeling
- [ ] Oh no. It sends a tidal wave of heat straight to gut
- [ ] You are being pleasured and by the sounds of it youre enjoying yourself
- [ ] A flash of possessive anger rushes through him wondering who could be touching you in such a way that wasnt him
- [ ] But as he stalks closer and steps between the trees he freezes
- [ ] Relief washes over him, youre alone
- [ ] But thats quickly replaced by instant hot desire as his mouth goes dry and his length starts to harden just from that first glimpse
- [ ] You’re in the shallow cave NAKED and on your back, knees up and thighs spread.
- [ ] His mouth slowly falls open as his expression goes slack as it becomes very clear what you’re doing by the wet slick sound coming from between your legs where your hand disappears from his view
- [ ] He cant even blink nor look away completely and utterly locked on to your flushed skin and the needy pinch of your brow as you pant making soft little moans
- [ ] As you arch your back, a louder cry leaving your mouth as you shift your hips desperately, he feels his cock throb painfully bringing him back to reality for a moment
- [ ] Shame courses through him, he should NOT be watching this, you obviously waited until hed been gone to take your pleasure he should definitely grant you your privacy. While you are a couple he wasnt one to push past your boundaries not wanting to make you do something youre not ready for no matter how much he struggles to not touch you every damn day
- [ ] But he cant seem to move, not as your breasts jiggle softly from your body’s movements your peaked nipples drawing his attention.
- [ ] He licks his lips, tail twitching with jerky movements behind him as he feels his cock leak and wet the front of his pants from your display, fuck does he want you
- [ ] Clenching his fists hard, digging his claws into his skin he tries to come back to himself and just as he’s about to turn away from you your fingers seem to speed up and then he hears it
- [ ] It being HIS name being ripped out of your mouth in the most breathy needy tone he has ever heard, the name youd given him.
- [ ] He has to grip himself HARD to stop himself from cumming on the spot and he shudders as the wet sounds your fingers are making is driving him fucking insane
- [ ] He forgets himself completely and unable to help it steps towards you as his own desire to be the one to make you cry for him like that over takes him
- [ ] He practically pants, his breath coming in short bursts as he takes in your sweat slick skin and the red flush
- [ ] His body thrums with heat as the sounds of your moans and the wet easy slide of your fingers is all he can focus on as he steps onto your bedroll, his dick is hard as hell and twitches with every sound you make.
- [ ] And your scent, fuck he can smell your ecstasy and need. It makes his knees weak and his mouth water
- [ ] You dont seem to notice him right away, not until he’s dropping to his knees hard right beside you fully taking in how wet your thighs are and how slick your fingers look as they disappear inside you
- [ ] As you register his sudden presence though your eyes fly open and your movements freeze, he cant help but track the movement of your breasts as you lie there panting and surprised
- [ ] He doesnt give you even a moment to freak out or whatever it is you might do
- [ ] No, instead he places a shaky hand on your arm, the one you stretched down between your thighs as you took your gorgeous pleasure
- [ ] “Can I?” He asks lowly, voice rough with disuse and filled with thick desire. “Please?”
- [ ] You seem to still at his request your eyes widening and he holds his own breath waiting to see what you’d do. He hopes with every fiber of his being you say yes
- [ ] When you nod shyly and begin to retract your hand he slides his gently down your arm and shivers as his claw tipped fingers meet with your slick warm ones. His eyes never leave yours as much as he wants to look down, he doesnt want to miss the expression on your face.
- [ ] He doesnt hold your hand though, instead he continues his gently descent until he meets your soaked warm pussy lips
- [ ] It’s then that he finally lets out the breath shaky he was holding as you arch up into his touch pushing his fingers to slide further against your slick core
- [ ] His cock jerks painfully at how hot and wet you feel as his fingers tenderly explore. As you close your eyes reaching up to grip his shirt with your still slick fingers he lets his own gaze slide down your body watching as you shyly shift your hips against his long fingers
- [ ] When you let out a little breathy sound as he brushes against your little nub he knows hes a fucking goner
- [ ] “You’re so beautiful,” He’d mumble raspy and heated
- [ ] And when he finally slides a finger in you another immediately follows. with you so slick and ready for him causing him to groan deeply
- [ ] He has made it his mission from here on, this is how you will spend every night from now on. You wont need to take things into your own hands, not if he can help it.
Wukong
He is away doing whatever it is that Wukong does every day. Be it fighting something, pissing someone off, or just getting into something he probably definitely absolutely should not get into. You’d been hurt, twisted your ankle of all things, so you were stuck back at camp. You’d found a little shallow cave two days ago to recover at, not wanting Wukong to carry you everywhere. On the surface that sounds nice and he would definitely do it as you either fed his ego or told him he was too weak to do it. He’s easy like that. But what isnt easy to deal with is how much fun he has tossing you up and down or making you almost sick as he bounces you as he walks just because he thinks its funny to make you squawk with annoyance at him. So it’s easier to just rest and enjoy a little peace while he gallivants off to cause whatever mischief that doesnt have to do with you for once as you are his usual victim. Apparently having mutual feelings and being mates does not quell his need for chaos. In fact it amplifies it you think.
The only downside to having his attention on you even more now is that the mischievous little (he’s taller than you but thats besides the point) asshole doesnt seem to have a horny bone in his body. It’s been months of simple hand holding, if you can get him to sit still long enough, and literal stolen kisses. He apparently enjoys his little surprise attacks as they fluster you but not because youre too shy or because it scares you, no. It’s because you need more than a simple kiss or his soft fuzzy tail wrapping around your waist or arm keeping you close to him as you walk. You’d even tried once to time changing your clothes so they were partly off when he would be arriving back to camp after doing a quick patrol only for him to immediately start ranting and raving about some slippery little creature he’d happened across as he poked at the fire and began cooking that nights dinner over the flames. He didn’t even spare you a glance and his posture was relaxed as can be. Not even as the sound of your clothes rustling seemed to catch his attention as he drooled over the cooking food.
And so, your frustration escalated. You know at some point you’ll have to talk to him but thats a problem for future you because you just KNOW it’s going to be an ordeal. Nothing can ever be easy with him especially when it comes to his damn ego which no doubt will be stroked heavily knowing you want him, that is unless he doesnt have an inclination towards such intimacies.
Today he had been especially restless and so had you. You had decided that while he was gone you were going to pamper yourself a little and relieve the sexual tension you’d built up inside yourself. Watching his ever present shows of strength and that cocky attitude of his always sends a stirring in you and it doesnt help when he walks around sometimes with his shirt off showing his rippling muscles under all that soft looking fur. When he finally grew too impatient with sitting around, he didn’t like having to wait for you to heal but agreed to it nonetheless knowing you aren’t built like him, he stood abruptly and told you he was going on an adventure. You waved him off trying to be nonchalant as excitement tickled down your back knowing what you had planned for yourself for the day.
And so as his furry tail flicked out of view you waited a handful of minutes giving him time to get some distance away before you couldnt take it anymore. You’d gotten a nice body oil from a village youd passed by a week or so ago, it smelled lovely and reminded you of peaches. You hadn’t used it yet, but figured if it had a fragrance Wukong’s sensitive nose wouldn’t be too disturbed if it smelled like his favorite snack. Acting quickly you hurry to wash your skin and body in a near by spring. You might have taken your time normally but you didn’t want to put this off any longer. After youre done you make your way to back to the shallow cave and sit on your bed roll and fur blankets that Wukong had gifted you. Your skin is still a little damp and the afternoon breeze makes goosebumps ripple across your naked skin. With a small content hum you grab your sweet scented oil and being applying it to your skin slowly, gently, enjoying the sensation as your body starts to warm up from your ministrations.
As your breath starts to quicken you lie back on the furs and using both hands you glide your hands across your soft oil slick skin sensually. It’s not long before you close your eyes and start to lose yourself in a fantasy, imagining a hard but softly furred body rolling against yours and curious fingers possessively mapping out your skin as teasing fangs nip from your neck to your breasts.
- [ ] Wukong had grown bored VERY quickly after he left you at camp. There was NOTHING around for him to do no one to fight and no distractions from his ever growing need to be closer to you - which he will NEVER show.
- [ ] He doesnt know if youre doing it on purpose, probably not, but the way you sometimes look at him makes him twitchy and hot. He’s not some impulsive boy unable to control his more primal urges but you test his control daily
- [ ] He’s not sure if you’ve been using a new scented lotion or perfume but the scent coming off of you at random times the last several weeks has been making him need to grind his teeth to keep from reaching out and pulling your body tightly against his
- [ ] Thankfully he’s learned self discipline and finds it relatively easy to keep an air of innocence around you, not wanting to scare you off with his ever present and growing desire to lick you from your cute little toes to your sweet sweet mouth.
- [ ] Sitting around camp with you today was testing his patience. He’d noticed that slight flush on your cheeks assumed you may just be a bit warm as the day was a little hotter than usual. Unfortunately the sight of your reddened cheeks did nothing but fuel his imagination.
- [ ] If hes honest with himself desires like this were new, not in regards to you, but in general. So getting away from you for a while was always the best bet, he keeps an ear out in case you need him of course but fighting something always helps relieve the tension he builds up being in your presence
- [ ] Unfortunately the area surrounding your little temporary home was quiet. Too damn quiet. He almost thinks about going a little further out but quickly decides against it, not wanting to get too far from you in case something DID happen
- [ ] Which is why, as he’s hopping through the large forest trees, he ends up circling back towards the shallow cave
- [ ] His pace is fairly lax, enjoying the warm air and the calm familiar sounds of the woods
- [ ] Wukongs mind wanders a little to what lies ahead on your little journey as he makes his way back. He’s quite lost in thought so it takes him a moment to realize that something is amiss as he gets closer
- [ ] His sharp ears pick up the sound of your voice but it’s not something he’s heard before, or well he has, kind of. Only when youd eaten something really really good and you make a happy little noise that always makes his old heart skip a beat
- [ ] Well now he’s just curious, what did you find to eat? Were you hiding it from him to keep it all to yourself? How had he not known? Or smelled it?
- [ ] With a huff he picks up his pace racing through the trees determined to give you shit for trying to hide some wonderful little treat from him
- [ ] He can hear you better now that he’s close and just before he breaks through the trees he stops with a smirk deciding to sneak up on you as punishment
- [ ] But in his haste he missed a crucial detail - one he now is acutely aware of as he pauses just as the little camp comes into view
- [ ] He freezes, going completely still as he takes in the sight before him and the very obvious soft squelching sound echoing a little in the shallow cave. His keen hearing amplifying the sound.
- [ ] Hot HOT desire ripples through his strong frame causing every single hair on his body to stand on end like he’d been hit by lightning as he takes in your naked body, hips shifting just so as your hand is going to work between your thighs as you moan
- [ ] His simian nostrils flare as your scent hits him like a boulder almost knocking him off his feet, well at least now he knows where that heady scent you sometimes carry comes from. He salivates at the thought of tasting your nectar. There’s another scent mixed with your pleasure, faintly it smells almost like peaches but not quite.
- [ ] Your soft sounds wash over him causing a full on shudder to go through him. His cock hardening in an instant as you then whine HIS fucking name
- [ ] Something inside him almost snaps - later youd tell him it was his arrogance and ego swelling to the size of 5 mountains
- [ ] You are touching yourself wanting HIM, Wukong, and that sends a possessive growl rumbling through his chest, his claw tipped fingers flexing with the need to reach out and grab you, to touch you, to run his claws gently down your skin and watch you shiver and squirm
- [ ] You dont hear it of course too lost in stuffing your needy hole but by the sounds of it, its not quite enough for you
- [ ] Wukong keeps himself in place for a moment longer as he watches you tend to yourself, one of your hands slides up the side of your breast and pinches a nipple and he licks his lips at the sight, wanting to know what they taste like
- [ ] His tail flicks with pent up energy behind him as he finally stalks forward, a predator about to pounce on his prey
- [ ] But he has no intentions of helping you as he strips himself of his shirt letting it fall to the ground not caring where
- [ ] His furry chest is rapidly expanding with his quickened breaths, he breathes purposely through his nose wanting to capture every moment of your scent and commit it to memory
- [ ] Finally sensing you’re not alone you open your eyes and still with a sharp shocked breath. He watches as your cheeks redden further with surprise and embarrassment
- [ ] Quick as a whip before you can even pull your fingers away from your soaked pussy he’s between your knees bullying his way through with one hand holding you open by his grip on your thigh and his tail wrapping around the other. Spreading you open for his heated gaze
- [ ] He has ahold of your wrist preventing you from pulling back and before you can even think of protesting he pulls on your wrist, gently but firmly, you gasp as your fingers slip out of your pussy, the wet sound sending a tingle of embarrassment through you
- [ ] Instantly he has your dripping fingers pressed against his nose and mouth as he huffs in your scent before licking at them
- [ ] Feeling you tremble in his strong hold and your little shocked gasp he locks eyes with you and smirks as he licks your fingers completely clean as though he was starving for the taste
- [ ] He can tell you dont know what to do, that your torn between embarrassment and want. But he doesnt mind, he’s made the decision for you
- [ ] Wukong nips your fingers teasingly before he lowers your hand and places it back against your pussy, he uses his fingers to press yours pointedly against your slick lower lips and the little wet sound that accompanies the movement makes you both shiver.
- [ ] He slips his fingers in between yours, teasingly touching you for a moment as his fingers glide through your slick
- [ ] A light growl/groan rumbles through his chest as he looks at you with half lidded eyes filled with naked desire
- [ ] Slowly and deliberately he lets go of your hand, pleased when you keep your hand right where he’d placed it, and begins undoing his pants
- [ ] His puffs his furry chest out a little and chuckles, the sound husky as he watches your expression turn needy as he dips his hand into his pants and brings his throbbing dick out, enjoying how heavily your breathing gets and how your eyes seem to be unable to look away as he spreads your juices over his cock
- [ ] Scooting forward so that his cock presses against the back of your knuckles he smirks down at you
- [ ] “Since you decided to take your pleasure for yourself, give us a show my sweet peach.” He demands like the king he is with no room for arguments, wanting you to resume touching yourself while he watches and takes himself in hand. Punishing you a little for taking a special privilege away from him
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month ago
Text
Meet the Family 3
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)
Characters: Lloyd Hansen
Note: I'm feeling very Little Lies about this.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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"So this is the reason you missed Thanksgiving," a butter knife jabs in your direction as you poke at the white turkey meat; this? You look up then at Lloyd as he nearly chokes. 
"Uh, yeah," he coughs behind his fist and swallows, "we were out of the country..." 
"Yes, why would you bother to stay. No use in seeing your mother at the holidays, or the rest of your family," she reproaches. 
"Mom," he groans. 
"For ten years," William adds from his wife's side. "Now you show your face and you look as if you're eating rotten apples." 
"No," Lloyd argues. "It's just... I'm busy and I don't get a lot of time away from work." 
"We all have obligations," Gwenyth argues. 
"Well, I took her away so I could propose," he explains as he presses his fork into the whipped potatoes. "And it worked out perfect, right? Cause now I can bring her to meet everyone." 
Gwenyth hums flatly, "I suppose." She clicks her tongue and takes a healthy gulp of wine. 
"So, Pixie," Lillian drawls from further down, "what do you do for work? Oh let me guess. A librarian?" 
You don't let the suggestion bother you. You don't see it as an insult even if she says it like one. You shake your head. 
"No, I--" you begin and Lloyd stomps your foot so you bite down on your voice.  
"She is a corporate consultant. International corporation," he explains.  
"Oh, wow, sounds busy," Gwenyth remarks. 
"Yes, how will you have time for children?" Lillian challenges. 
"I'm sure they'll find time to make them," Benson chortles over his snifter.  
"Ben, please," William rebukes. 
"We're focusing on the wedding before all that," Lloyd says. 
You peer around as you chew your cheeks in frustration. You're annoyed by how they speak of you as if you're not even there, and so intimately. Yet, you don't have much to say for yourself. This whole facade is tiresome and you really don't care what they think about a made-up job. Or marriage, for that matter. 
"That will be done with quickly," Gwenyth sniffs. "And she will need to quit that job if she wants to do her duty as your wife." 
"I can handle a job and a husband," you blurt out. 
The table quiets as if stunned that you can speak. You blink and Lloyd puts his fork down and touches your arm, "sweet pea--" 
"I highly doubt you'd be marrying him for any other reason than that nest egg promised to him," Lillian scoffs. "You don't need to play a saint with us, darling. Marriage is a transaction in more ways than one; affection, money, sex--" 
"Lilly," William warns and she laughs. 
"Well?" She shrugs. "You do know, the wedding only guarantees a twenty percent payout. He needs an heir to get all of it." She pets her stomach smugly and smiles. "I can assure you it's well worth it. Once you meet Lorelai, you'll see." 
"Oh? Maybe when you meet her, you'll consider being a mother too," Lloyd retorts. 
"Excuse me?" Lillian snarls. "I love my daughter." 
"Of course you so," he sneers. "I'm sure she feels all that love right now as she enjoys her turkey and carrots with the nanny." 
"I can't have her around adults and alcohol. You can't possibly understand," she snaps. "And maybe it's better that you never do. I could never imagine you as a father, especially when you are such a child." 
"Takes one to know one," Lloyd growls. 
"Enough," William barks. "Both of you." 
Ransom laughs loudly at the end of the table. Lloyd shifts and Lillian rolls her eyes. You sigh at your plate. You miss your family. For the first time in years, you truly miss them. 
"What the hell are you laughing at, Hugh? The only reason you're here is because your grandpappy exiled you." 
Linda gasps, "He's not exiled--" 
"Oh, right, of course not, Lin, that's why you're here breaking bread with the peasants. That's what you called us at great grandmother's wake--" 
"Lloyd, watch your mouth," William snarls. "Better yet, shut it." 
Lloyd recoils in his chair and stiffens. His features sharpen then he lowers his chin and picks up his fork. His jaw is stone as he stirs the gravy into his potatoes. You wouldn't call him humbled, more whipped like a dog. These people make you feel something for him you never thought you could; sympathy. 
"I don't care about money that much," you say. "It can't buy respect. Besides, I would never marry a man without a prenup. Whatever Lloyd has will remain his." You push your shoulders back as a yawn tickles in your throat. "At this point, he can keep you lot as well." 
You stand up and take the cloth napkin from your lap. You fold it neatly, "Gwenyth, you can tell whoever cooked dinner that it was delicious. I appreciate you all having me but I'm going to go find a hotel and some peace." You step around the chair and push it into the table, "happy holidays." 
You turn, your insides jittering. What are you doing? Where did that come from? You could say you're tired and not thinking straight, but honestly, you're just so repulsed by these people that your head could explode. They're lucky they only got a a few pieces of shrapnel. 
You march out without looking back. Your cheeks tinge hotly with self-awareness. You've messed it all up. After years of harnessing your emotions under Hansen's thumb, you finally snapped. You blew it all. 
"What she said," another chair scrapes as Lloyd speaks. "Mom, dad, good night." 
You enter the hall and head for the entry way. You hear him beside you. You're still foggy with disbelief. It isn't until you sit to put on your boots that you notice Lloyd. 
"I know, I'm done. Fired." You pull on your leather booties. "I'll take the severance and figure it out." 
"I didn't say so," he says as he grabs a coat from the closet. 
"Um..." 
"You're completely right. We can't stay here. They're all a bunch of pricks and they wonder why I didn't come home for ten years," he pulls on his coat as he speaks. He pushes back his hair then smooths his mustache. "We're better off at the hotel. We'll sleep better there--" 
"We? Lloyd, please. Stay with your family. I need space," you stand and reach past him for your jacket. "Besides, I booked a single queen and it's Christmas Eve." 
"Queen's big enough. You're tiny--" 
"Okay, no, no," you hiss. "It's not happening. Stay--" 
"But I don't want to," he whines. 
"Mr. Hansen," you say. "You're out of your mind." 
"Well, after your blow up, I don't think I'm welcome," he puts his hand on his hip. "So this is your last chance to save your job. You made the mess, you clean it up." 
"Me?" You exclaim. 
He hushes you and step closer, "Pix, you already made a scene, let's not do the encore. I'm gonna grab my bags, alright?" 
"You can't be serious." You say. 
"Hey, I gotta play the loyal husband--" 
"And why exactly is that necessary? Why couldn't you get one of those Tinder girls?" 
"Woah, woah, come on, someone will hear you," he covers your mouth with his hand and you turn your face away with a blech. "Go warm up the car. We'll talk on the ride to the hotel." 
You stare at him. He watches you, as uncertain as you've ever seen him. In the silence, you can hear the din in the other room. 
"Always was such a baby," Lillian laughs venomously. 
"He could've chosen someone without an iron spine," Gwenyth adds. 
You grimace and throw your hands up, "fine, get your things." 
"You're the best," he grabs your shoulders but before he can kiss you, you put your hand up to pinch his nose. He recoils and rubs the tip, "ow." 
"No more of that," you say as you pull your keys out of your pocket. "Thank god I only had one glass of wine." 
You stomp out the front door. The frigid winter air hits you like a bus. Once one even ground, the swirling snow flecks onto your shoulders and hair. Great, now you get to drive in the snow with an unwanted passenger. 
You get in the driver seat and push the ignition. You turn on the heater and the heated seats. At least Hansen pays enough for the add-ons. Still, you’re not sure there’s any compensation equal to what you just went through. 
You look over as the front door opens and closes. Lloyd rolls a giant suitcase with him, another smaller bag strapped on top, and a third in his other hand. You don’t move as you watch him descend the steps, easing the wheels over the edge one-by-one. 
He comes down the long walk and jerks as his loafers slip on the icy pavement. It would be funny if you weren’t so damn exhausted. You steadies himself and continues on. You should get out and help him. You don’t. 
You pop the trunk with the button. He loads in his bags as you check the rear view. He comes around the passenger side and pulls the door open. He lets out an obnoxious ‘brrrr’ as he drops into the seat next to you. You shift gears as he shuts the door. 
“Ugh, I feel so much better getting out of there,” he says as he adjusts the seat, making room for his long legs. 
“Why?” 
“Um, why not? My family is the worst--” 
“No, why did you drag me into this?” You ask as you lean into the wheel and squint over it. The dark, the snow, the unplowed roads, it’s like the universe can’t stop throwing you obstacles. 
“You want the real answer or the nice answer?” He replies. 
“Mr. Hansen,” you growl. 
“Right, I had no other choice.” 
“No other choice?” You repeat. 
“Look, those long-legged beauties back home, they’re fun, but they don’t got much else going on. I needed someone who could play along,” he explains. 
“Play along?” 
“Yeah, I mean, you’re smart so--” 
“I’m smart...” 
“I wouldn’t hire you if you weren’t--” 
“Jeez, wow, Mr. Hansen, thank you so much. You think I’m so smart, so you should know I’m smart enough to know better than to believe you. You think I’m desperate,” you turn slowly onto the next street. “You think I have nothing else going on.” 
“No, that’s not--” he shifts in his seat. 
“It’s exactly what you think,” you huff. “Well, I do. I have a flight in...” you pause and check the time on the dash, “five hours so when we get to the hotel, I’m going to sleep and you’re going to let me. Then I’m going to catch my flight and the curtain can be pulled on this whole theatre.” 
“Your words, not mine. I don’t think you’re desperate.” 
You don’t respond. You’re tired. He just can’t leave things alone. He always has to say something. You wonder if he was truly left to his own thoughts, if his head would combust. 
“I’m actually impressed,” you says, “you held your own.” 
“Sir,” you utter. 
“It was good. Entertaining. I mean, all these years, you never once talked back to me but wow, that was... majestic, really. You didn’t even wait to see my mother’s face. Or my sister’s.” 
“Your family is weird,” you blurt out. “Sorry, uh, I didn’t mean--” 
“I mean, yeah, we probably are but I don’t really have anything to compare it to,” he says. 
You nod. He has a point. Yet, while that horde of entitled brats might explain his personality, it can’t excuse it. 
The hotel’s marquee shines like a beacon as you steer into the lot. You yawn and shut off the engine. You let yourself out and drag your feet around to the trunk. You take out your carry-on as Lloyd hovers at the other side. 
“All of your stuff, out,” you say. “I’m going straight to the airport in the morning. Checkout is ten so as long your gone by then, I don’t care what you do.” 
He’s quiet but he obeys. He takes his bags out and sets them on the ground. He pulls the rolling bag and slings his smallest bag on his shoulder. You snap the trunk shut and turn, shuffling across the icy tarmac. 
You enter through the automatic doors and cross the desolate lobby. You check in with your ID but as you look for your credit card, Lloyd flicks his between his fingers and offers it up to the clerk. 
“It’s on me,” he insists. 
You won’t argue. You really don’t trust him to leave by checkout. As you head for the elevators, he takes a deep breath. He doesn’t speak until you’re behind the sliding doors of the compartment. 
“You know, I’m still your boss so you can’t just order me around,” he says. 
You glance over at him. “Right, won’t happen again, sir.” 
“It could have been worse, you know? I could’ve actually had you come all the way out here just to drop off some gifts. If you think about it, you got a free dinner and some wine--” 
“Yeah, it was a great time,” you say dryly. “Mr. Hansen, I’m too tired to lie any more. Tonight was one of the worst nights of my life so no, I don’t think it could be worse.” 
The doors open and you stride out. You swipe the card at the door corresponding to the number written in the folio and let yourself in. He follows closely, nearly running over your heels with his suitcase. 
You take your bag to the bed and take out the cotton pajamas stuffed inside just for tonight. You bring them with you into the bedroom, doing your best to ignore your guest. Lloyd wanders along the wall and finds his way to the mini fridge. 
You’re in no rush to change, only to get to bed. You trade your dress and stockings for the cotton two-piece and emerge. You shove your bag and clothes beside the night table and slide under the blankets. You pull them up to your shoulders. 
“They got wine, tequila, beer--” 
“I’m going to sleep,” you insist. 
“The alcohol will help.” 
“No, it will make waking up even harder.” 
“After tonight, I think you need a shot.” 
“Mr. Hansen,” you grumble and cover your head. 
“Fine, more for me.” He snickers. 
You’re happy he can’t see the irritation on your face. You might just be better off to let him drink whatever. Eventually, he’ll have to pass out. At least, you can only hope he does. 
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revelboo · 2 months ago
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Heya~ hope your doing well! And I hope you had a swell bday!! 🎉
It's been a bit since you've done anything for Prowl, are you still writing for him? Have you seen the new Earthspark season? 🥺🥺
I haven’t seen the new season, just yet, but will. I don’t really track these, just writing whatever as it occurs to me so my posting schedule can be a bit… weird
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Stand Too Close Pt 4
IDW Prowl x Reader
• Sitting in his palm, clinging to a servo since he’s not holding you in his hand like normal and you don’t want to fall, you try to gauge his mood from his blank expression. And to figure out why he’s not yelling, yet. As much as the rest of them seem to think the tactician is always in control, always calm- you’ve seen the other side. That anger he tries so hard to hide from the other Autobots, but not you. “Do you hate me?” He asks, tone almost bored as he walks to his quarters.
• “You locked me in a drawer,” you retort, shifting so your back is to him so he can’t try to analyze your expression. “Remember?” You sound more tired than angry to him. And by some miracle you don’t feel the need to point out that he’d ruined your life, your favorite jab. Venting, he mulls over that and wonders if maybe he should have left you with Bumblebee or any other Bot. Someone you could relax around and not constantly fight with. Why does that thought bother him so much? Because some twisted part of him enjoys the verbal sparring and the challenge of someone as poisonous as he is. As angry.
• “Then behave,” he says and despite your decision to ignore him, you glare up over your shoulder at him. “You ran out in front of me that day. You didn’t watch where you were going,” he adds and you’d almost swear one corner of his mouth is twitching like he’s trying not to smile. Like it’s funny to him as your face reddens. You don’t even realize you’re already back to his quarters until he tilts his palm and you’re forced to slide off onto his desk as he pulls out his chair. And the reaction is immediate and unthinking. Yanking off one of your sneakers and beaning him in the face with it.
• “Excuse me?!” You screech, face redder than he’s ever seen it as he just stares. You’d dared to hit him one of your little feet coverings? Challenge him? “I was in a crosswalk,” you yell, throwing out an arm and your level of fury is almost endearing, because you don’t have to play nice. You can scream all you like and what must that be like? To not bottle everything up all the time? You’re pulling off the other covering to throw when he places his palms on the desk and mass shifts, vaulting up onto the surface with you as he shrinks. And you scramble backwards, tripping and going sprawling on his data pad. Mouth falling open in shock, but still managing to throw that stupid covering at his him.
• Swearing as your shoe bounces off his chassis, you scramble to get away as he stalks your way, optics pale and angry. Your mind clawing for sense of the fact that he can apparently shrink, that fact second to that he’s angry and you don’t want those big hands on you when he’s this livid. A hand grabs your ankle to drag you back and you kick him in the jaw with the other leg without thinking, catching him by surprise as his head snaps back. And you freeze as he reaches up to slide a thumb over his lip, growling as it comes away wet with energon and oh, no. You really shouldn’t have done that. His glossa slides over his thumb, door wings trembling. “Come here,” he snarls.
• Little brat. You try to crawl away and he drags you back again, flipping you into your back and straddling your hips this time so you can’t kick him in the face again. And you go ballistic, screaming profanity in his face, your own face scarlet as you try to hit him and he bares his denta, capturing your wrists and pinning them above your head when you slap him, squirming under him like a wild thing. “You only landed a blow because you caught me by surprise,” he growls as your eyes flash with hate and you bare your little teeth at him, hips bucking under him. “Clearly no one’s ever taught you how to defend yourself.”
• Swearing, you try to wriggle your hands loose and give up when he tightens his grip in a subtle warning. Your anger faltering when he slaps a palm against the desk by your head and leans over you. Too close, you can feel him venting against your throat, his face right above yours. Suddenly very aware of the way he has you pinned and the heat of him. “Next time, put up more of a fight. Make it last,” he whispers, one corner of his mouth curling and it’s like a punch to the gut, the shock of that rueful little smile overwhelming you until you can’t breathe. Too aware of him and the fact that you like that cocky smile as much as you hate him. Panic claws at you, because you’re not sure this is anger anymore just that you want him off of you. Can’t get free of his grip, but he’s so close and he freezes, optics narrowing when you lift your head. And bite his already bleeding bottom lip as hard as you can.
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nadvs · 3 months ago
Text
push and pull (part one)
pairing twin!rafe x female reader x twin!zach
summary life felt complicated enough when you started falling for zach. then you meet rafe. he’s the complete opposite of his twin brother, but he captures your attention just the same.
author’s note finally wrote the zach/rafe twin au!! i won’t be making this a series but it was so fun to write as a one-shot (that had to turn into a two-shot because i ran out of post space lol)
tags college au set in the obx universe. mutual pining. angst. love triangle. miscommunication. no smut. rafe endgame (s2 bangs supremacy) (sorry to my zach girlies)
content warnings alcohol use, mental illness, mentions of parental abandonment
» intro post
» masterlist
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Everyone can tell the Cameron twins apart by their hair.
Zach’s is short and unkept, always looking like he just ran off the soccer field, while Rafe keeps his a little longer, soft strands hanging over his forehead, every edge neat and clean.
From the moment you first see them together, you can tell that the two couldn’t be more different. And you don’t need to rely on any tricks like looking at their hair to know who’s who.
It’s their eyes that give them away. While they’re the same captivating shade of blue, Zach has a sense of hope in his eyes that Rafe doesn’t.
────୨ৎ────
Your father has been coaching your college’s men’s soccer team for most of his career. When the directors of the athletic department kept pestering him about the team needing a social media presence for the school’s PR, he asked you if you’d be interested.
As a freshman, the part-time job seemed like a fun way to get to know people, so you accepted the position and made a TikTok account for the team.
Since the start of the season, of all the soccer players, Zach has been the most welcoming. He goes along with whatever you need for work, humoring you when you hold up your phone and ask him trending questions for videos, like what his lockscreen is or what superstitions he follows before a game.
As time went on, you felt yourself gravitating more and more towards him, watching him in awe whenever you came by the field during practices and games.
Eventually, he started inviting you to the close-knit team’s hangouts. You quickly and seamlessly joined the friend group within a few weeks.
Before you knew it, you had a serious crush on him. He’s handsome and funny and a total sweetheart. What makes it so complicated is that you can’t read him at all.
He’s nice to you, but he’s nice to everyone. Maybe your feelings are unrequited, but you hold onto hope that he looks at you the same way you look at him.
It’s a Friday night when you visit Zach’s place for the first time. You’re sitting in the living room with a few of his teammates and their girlfriends, your empty takeout containers scattered over the coffee table, the sound of the autumn wind rushing past the windows reduced to a whisper beneath your loud conversation.
Zach had already told you he had a twin brother that he lived with in a loft off-campus, but when you rest your eyes on Rafe for the first time as he comes through the front door, it’s surprisingly jarring to see someone identical to Zach.
The chatter continues around you as you watch Rafe toss his keys onto the end table, drop a duffle bag, and silently walk into the open-concept kitchen. He swings open the fridge, keeping his head down.
His hair is damp, sweat glistening on his skin. His shirt is plastered to his torso, the planes of his muscles angular and sharp, not leaving much to the imagination.
“You haven’t met my less handsome brother yet,” Zach jokes to you. He points to Rafe, then to you, introducing you to each other.
“Hi,” you say kindly.
When Rafe meets your gaze, he stills for a moment, eyes almost imperceptibly widening. A couple seconds of silence pass.
“Hey,” he finally offers with a quick, tense nod.
“How was your workout?” Zach asks.
Rafe pulls a protein shake out of the fridge and swings the door closed.
“It’s so fucking busy in that gym,” Rafe replies, stepping away. He turns the corner and paces up the stairs towards his bedroom.
He and his brother have always lived in different worlds. They host parties sometimes, but that’s usually as close as their social circles overlap.
Right now, though, it’s like his aching muscles are willing him to turn around and keep talking to the pretty girl sitting in his living room. But while he’s never been good at ignoring his impulses, he’s not about to flirt with his brother’s guest, knowing how much it bothers him.
Before Rafe reaches his bedroom to get ready for a shower, he hears Zach come upstairs to stop him in the hallway.
“I’ll make sure they’re out by nine,” he says quietly. “That cool?”
Zach has always enjoyed having people over and surrounding himself with friends. But he’s aware of how much it annoys his moody brother when he just wants to chill at home. Despite how much Rafe parties and hooks up, when he wants quiet, he wants quiet.
Because Zach naturally wants to keep the peace, when they moved out of Tannyhill, he set ground rules. One of them is that they’ll check in with each other to make sure they don’t let guests overstay.
Rafe looks at his watch to see it’s nearly eight and says, “Sure. Whatever. I’m having a girl over later anyway.”
As soon as Zach left the living room, you heard one of the other soccer players, Chance, quietly make a joke about how that was the most words he’s ever heard Rafe say.
It makes Rafe all the more intriguing to you. Everyone here has some sort of history with him, albeit small and meaningless. But you’re still fairly new to the friend group. You know nothing about Rafe. For some reason, you want that to change.
Zach’s eyes meet yours when he comes back into the living room.
“Still a warm and fuzzy guy, isn’t he?” Chance says.
“Like always,” Zach quips with a shrug. And that’s that. Nobody brings up Rafe for the rest of the night.
When the hangout comes to an end about an hour later, Zach trails you all out through the front door. You bump into a girl you recognize from one of your classes.
“Hey,” she says. “I know you.”
“Hi,” you say with a laugh, holding the door open for her when you realize she’s coming into the loft.
Rafe appears behind Zach and by the way his eyes hungrily travel down her body, you quickly surmise she’s here for him.
And for some reason, it stings that she’s physically the complete opposite of you. If that’s Rafe’s type, you definitely don’t measure up.
You’re not sure why your mind is running away from you so fast. Why do you care about Rafe’s type? It’s his brother you’ve been pining over for the last month.
“How’d you do on that quiz?” she asks you.
“The grades are already up?” you reply.
“On time for once,” she laughs.
“Let’s go,” Rafe mumbles to her, his hand finding the small of her back.
You know it isn’t personal. He clearly just wants to hang out with her, not entertain any small talk. But the way he’s acting like you’re not even in the room hurts.
You say bye to Zach one last time before you follow your friends down the hallway towards the elevator. Your shoes are padding over the tiles when you hear your name half-whispered.
Zach stands with a foot out his door, beckoning you. Butterflies swirl in your stomach as you scurry back to close the distance between you. You look up at his warm eyes expectantly.
“Sorry. Don’t take it personally,” he murmurs with a gentle smile. “Rafe’s like that with everyone.”
You’re sure he’s not like that with the girl he just led upstairs. But you don’t know why you even care that much.
Zach’s the one you like. Obviously if you find him attractive, you’ll find his twin brother attractive, too. You figure your brain is just getting used to it.
You return his smile, appreciative. Stuff like this is why you like him; he cares enough to try to comfort you after his brother brushed you off.
“It’s okay,” you reply. Your friends call your name, urging you to get to the elevator before the doors close. “Thanks. I’ll see you.”
Zach watches you rush away, hoping he managed to make you feel better. He loves his brother. He understands why he is the way he is. But he doesn’t like that he made a girl who was nothing but nice to him feel bad.
As he tidies up the mess in the living room, thinking about how sweetly you had offered to help clear the table, Zach realizes that he enjoys not having housekeepers.
He never liked watching people have to clean up after him. Getting used to cleaning took some time after he and Rafe settled in here when the school year began, but now, it feels good.
Moving out was the best thing they could’ve done. Even though Zach’s only minutes older, he always felt protective of his brother, and being at home with their dad and stepmom just messed with Rafe, bringing out his self-destructive tendencies.
About an hour later, Zach’s doing schoolwork at the kitchen island when he hears the front door shut. He’s used to his brother’s habits, having random girls over, never letting them spend the night.
“She’s new,” Zach says when Rafe saunters into the kitchen.
“Yeah,” Rafe says, ducking into the fridge. “Do we have any food?”
“I saved some takeout for you.” Zach points to the container by the oven.
“Sweet.”
“What’s she like?” Zach asks.
Rafe shrugs. Thankfully, his hook-up wasn’t interested in getting to know him, either. She just wanted to be physical. Losing himself in the feeling of a girl’s legs wrapped around him, melting into emotionless pleasure, shutting his mind up, is Rafe’s comfort zone.
“She’s cool,” he mumbles. “It’s nothing serious.”
Zach watches his brother pick at his dinner at the counter, not bothering to sit down.
He never understood how he could have these meaningless hook-ups. Zach can’t imagine sharing a bed with a girl he has no connection with. Or never talking to her again after.
He shuts his laptop, pinching the bridge of his nose before he speaks.
“Hey, you think you could be a little nicer to my guests?” he asks. Rafe tenses up.
“This again?” It isn’t the first time Zach is giving him shit for how he talks to his friends.
“It makes them feel unwelcome when you act like that,” Zach replies. Rafe’s temper flares.
“Did they tell you that?” he snips.
“They don’t have to. Just… be decent, okay?”
“I am. You care too much about what people think,” Rafe mutters.
“Maybe you don’t care enough.” Zach’s lips firm into a thin line. “I don’t want to have to apologize for you.”
“Oh, come on,” he chuckles. “Who’d you have to apologize to? For what?”
Zach mentions your name and how sad you looked as you were leaving. Rafe sighs, but a hint of anxiety pricks at his skin. This happens a lot. He thinks things are fine, and then he finds out later that apparently, he was rude.
“I hope you’re at least nicer to the girls you bring over,” Zach says.
“Not every girl wants a nice guy,” he jokes with a snort. “Can we skip the lecture?”
“Dude,” he sighs in exasperation.
Rafe rolls his eyes. Zach never got that Rafe doesn’t have the ability to read people all that well, that he doesn’t know when he’s expected to tiptoe around feelings. Rafe wishes everyone was just upfront like he is.
Despite the frustration rolling through his body, he hates to lose his temper on his brother. He always regrets it after if he does. So, he relents.
“Fine. I’ll be nicer,” Rafe sighs. He thinks back to the way you looked sitting in the living room earlier tonight, your voice sweet, your smile pretty.
“She’s cute,” Rafe mumbles. “New girlfriend?”
He wonders if Rafe’s mocking him. Or maybe Zach’s just being overly sensitive. His younger brother has teased him in the past for how he’s hardly ever single for very long.
Zach does prefer to be in a relationship, to live in a promise of commitment with someone who wants to love him. But is that so bad?
They deal with their trauma in different ways. Zach runs towards comfort and connection, while Rafe would rather die than be vulnerable with a girl.
Zach would never say it, but he believes he copes much better than Rafe does. But then again, Zach is pretty sure Rafe has mental health issues that he refuses to acknowledge.
“Just a friend. Her dad’s my coach,” Zach replies flatly. “She does social media for the team. She’s off limits.”
“Off limits?” Rafe echoes. “Why? You like her?”
“No,” Zach lies on impulse. It’s not just his brother he considers you off limits to. He can’t pursue you, either. Although he wants to.
But if he admits to not wanting to date the coach’s daughter because it could end badly and leave things awkward for everybody, Rafe’ll whine about how stupid it is to be living life like that, always afraid to upset people.
They’ve had this exact conversation so many times. Zach would say that it’s not stupid to be considerate. Rafe would tell him to be selfish for once. And they’d get nowhere.
“I already told you that you can’t hook up with my friends,” Zach states.
Rafe sighs. He’s done it in the past, had flings with girls Zach befriends, then caught shit for not calling back, even though he’s always clear that he’s not looking for a relationship. Zach hates losing friends as a result of Rafe’s impulses.
“I know,” he finally says. “Relax.”
It frustrates Zach how much his brother acts like he’s high-strung. In reality, he is relaxed. Among his friends, he has a reputation for being chill and fun.
But with Rafe, he has to play this role. He’s had to since they were kids.
Zach stands, taking his laptop with him as he paces towards his bedroom. It’d be nice to talk to his brother about how much he likes you, about how excited he gets when he sees you coming to talk to him, even when it’s just to film a video.
It’s not like he can tell any of the guys on his team. As close as he is with them, he’s sure it’d spread and get back to you.
Rafe’s the only person he’d gush to, but he’d rather not listen to him whine about how Zach needs to stop giving a fuck about consequences. Because that’s who Rafe is.
“Night,” Zach says curtly.
“Hey, I’m sorry, alright? I don’t try to be a dick,” Rafe says. “You don’t want any more of this?”
Zach looks at the food.
“I’m good.”
It’s another lie. He still has an appetite, but he’d rather let someone else eat if they’re hungry. Because that’s who Zach is.
────୨ৎ────
“Whoa,” you say, scrolling through your notifications.
“What’s up?” Zach asks, leaning closer to you.
You’re sitting in a loud and overcrowded on-campus bar with your friends. It’s been a few days since you hung out at Zach’s, being pulled out of the conversation from your phone buzzing incessantly.
Zach’s chin is almost touching your shoulder as you drag your thumb over your phone screen. He smells like soap and warmth, making your heart race.
“This one video randomly blew up,” you say. “From like, two weeks ago. It has almost ten thousand likes.”
“Which one?” Chance asks, sitting across the table from you.
“The one where I asked you guys what’s on your lockscreens,” you tell them. “I’ll send the link.”
Your friends gaze at their phones around the table after you share the video in the group chat, but Zach stays in his spot, preferring to watch over your shoulder, closer than he’s ever been to you.
It’s stuff like this that makes you think he’s crushing on you, too.
“Well, that’s good, right?” Zach offers. “Makes you look good if you get us viral.”
You breathe a chuckle as you read through the comments.
“I don’t know,” you say. “You’re all kind of getting objectified.”
“What?” Kacey, Chance’s girlfriend half-shouts.
“Oh, that explains why I’m getting all these random follow requests,” Chance laughs. He looks at his girlfriend. “I’m not accepting them. Don’t worry.”
“Sunrise guy is so pure,” Roy, the goalie, reads a comment aloud in a teasing tone. “102 likes. Jesus.”
“Am I sunrise guy?” Zach mumbles to you.
You smirk, finally turning your head to meet his eyes. In the video, Zach said his lockscreen was ‘a cool picture he took of a sunrise.’
“I think you are,” you reply. Admittedly, he looked adorable in the video, just coming out of the locker room after a game, his hair messy and his skin flushed.
“Pure,” he repeats, his lips twisting. “Is that good?”
“I’d say it’s good,” you shrug.
“Sunrise guy is fine as hell,” Roy reads, laughing. “And there’s a whole thread under trying to find your Instagram.”
You swear you notice Zach blush as he shuffles to take his phone out of his pocket.
“What are they saying about you, huh, Roy?” Zach teases. “Share with the class.”
“Nobody’s saying shit about Roy,” Chance laughs, scrolling.
“Shut up,” Roy says, punching Chance’s shoulder.
Your stomach twists with unease when you see Zach open Instagram, the red message bubble mocking you.
Sure enough, a few girls dm’d him. He opens a message from a girl with a pretty profile photo.
Hiiii :) please don’t think I’m a stalker lol I just saw you on tiktok and I’m wondering how I haven’t seen you around campus?
You look away, feeling guilty for snooping. It’s a girl who goes to the same college. A girl he could very easily meet and date.
He’s not your boyfriend. You have to remind yourself that he owes you nothing. But jealousy doesn’t care if you’ve claimed someone as yours or not. It still finds a way to seep in.
You shift in your seat, pretending to continue to read comments while your heart squeezes in a vice.
────୨ৎ────
The next weekend, Zach and Rafe are hosting a party. As you get ready, you put extra time into getting pretty. You wonder if you haven’t been obvious enough.
You’ve been flirting with Zach like always, but he might think you’re just being nice, so if the air feels right tonight, you’ll try to make it more clear that you’re interested.
You arrive at the loft, trying to act unfazed when Zach pulls you in for a quick hug. He does it with everyone, though, so you’re not sure if you’re special to him at all.
Rafe notices you walk in. He’s standing just outside the kitchen, a cold beer bottle in his hand. You’re even prettier than he remembers.
Zach leads you to the kitchen where drinks are laid out on the counter, then quickly gets pulled away by the doorbell ringing again.
You pace into the bright space, gazing over the ridiculously large array of alcohol. Ever since you saw the size of this place, you’ve wondered if Zach comes from a wealthy family.
Regular college students couldn’t afford a home like this. And they wouldn’t so generously buy all the many drinks scattered atop the counter.
You meet sharp blue eyes. Rafe raises his beer bottle slightly in greeting. You offer a smile in return, your body numbing.
You notice yet another difference between them. Zach dresses like most other guys on campus, while Rafe is in a crisp button-up, a small logo stitched on the front. You know that brand isn’t cheap. Neither is his watch.
They must be well off. Zach doesn’t seem to want to show it. Rafe does.
You find a drink you can stomach, picking up the cold glass bottle and looking around for an opener.
“Apparently, I was rude to you the other day?” Rafe’s voice cuts over the music.
You look up to see him stepping a bit closer, putting his beer down on the marble with a clack and gripping a metallic bottle opener. You take his silent invitation, handing him your drink.
“You weren’t not rude,” you reply.
Rafe’s dimples cave into his cheeks when he chuckles, looking down, popping the lid off with ease. He likes that you call him out on it, instead of appeasing him.
“My bad.” His voice is husky, his words said with a drawl. He hands your drink back to you. “Zach’s always giving me shit about my manners.”
“He’s right to,” you joke.
You take a small sip from the bottle, your face pinching with a hint of distaste, and Rafe finds it ridiculously cute.
“Don’t like it?” he asks, eyes glinting.
“Just a little bitter,” you admit. You look out at the crowd, some faces familiar, some faces not.
You’re not close enough to the girl in your class, the one you saw Rafe with, to have asked her what their deal is. The curiosity has oddly been gnawing at you.
It’d be weird to mention it to her. Or to him. But you do notice that she’s not here. You take another drag from the bottle, tapping your nails against the counter to the familiar song.
Rafe can’t tear his eyes off of you, noticing the way you’re slightly mouthing the lyrics. If he wasn’t this close, he wouldn’t be able to tell.
“You know this song?” Rafe asks.
“You do, too?” you say, looking up at him again as he towers over you.
“It’s my playlist.”
“Oh,” you laugh, surprised that you have something in common with him, that you both like this fairly unknown artist. “Yeah. This whole album is good.”
Rafe nods. You try not to stare. He has a magnetizing pull that you can’t really make sense of. There’s something so naturally dominating about him, like he’s silently demanding your attention.
The night Zach mentioned your job, Rafe looked through the account you run for his soccer team. Truthfully, he wished you were in the videos instead of behind the camera, but at least he could hear your voice.
You intrigue him. There’s no way to ignore it. His brother doesn’t want him hooking up with his friends, but what’s the harm in talking?
“So, you do TikTok stuff for my brother’s team?” Rafe asks. Zach has obviously talked about you to him. You wonder what else he said.
“My job description technically says ‘content creation’,” you reply. “But I guess ‘TikTok stuff’ works.”
Rafe can’t stifle his smile. He thinks Zach’s an idiot not to like you.
Maybe he’s lying. But it’s unlike him to lie when it comes to girls. He always wears his heart on his sleeve, so much so that it confuses Rafe why, after growing up around so much instability, he’s still so open to being hurt.
“You’re not into soccer?” you ask. He shakes his head no. “Do you play something else?”
“Nah,” Rafe says. “I golf sometimes, but that’s it.”
You can’t help but breathe a chuckle. Of course a rich guy like him would play golf of all sports.
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing,” you say.
“What’s funny?” he teases, his stare penetrating.
You have to look away, heat flushing through you. Everything about him, about his appeal, is overwhelming.
“Come on,” he beckons, teasing.
“I was going to say that I’m not surprised.” Your eyes dart down to the small logo on his shirt. “You would play golf.”
Rafe’s amused. Zach never liked making it obvious that they come from money because he says it’s in ‘bad taste.’ It’s another thing about his brother that never made sense to Rafe.
“Really? Who’s being rude now?” he asks.
You look up at him with doe eyes. Right now, it’s really hard for Rafe to give a fuck about you being off limits.
“Still you,” you reply. He laughs.
It’s a surprise, the way Rafe’s not as cold as you first thought. He has a guard up and he doesn’t smile much, but he has his own type of charm.
You continue to chat with him about music and school and even your dad being the soccer coach. Zach must have mentioned that, too.
Thankfully, you’re not quite drunk yet, because if you were, you might ask him what else Zach has said about you, and that could be a giveaway of your feelings for him. And if you show interest in Zach, that would probably kill your chances with Rafe.
Uncomfortable realization pools your senses. While these men are complete contradictions of each other, unalike in so many ways, you like them. Both of them. Shit.
You down the tiny bit left of your drink, a sign of just how long you’ve been standing here talking to Rafe. Time with him has a way of slipping.
You gaze out at the party again, noticing that the living room has gotten much more crowded. And then you see Zach, sitting on the couch, beaming brightly as he talks to a girl.
Rafe catches the way your face falls. When he sees your eyes on his brother, he’s sure of it. You like him. And here you are, making conversation with him while you’re pining over Zach.
He thought you were having fun together. He felt a spark. The sting of rejection tears into him. His gut reaction is to be spiteful. To say you should just go talk to Zach if he’s boring you. Or to really make it hurt, to tell you Zach said he doesn’t like you like that.
Truthfully, as much as he loves Zach, he’s always been a little jealous of him. Everything just seems so easy for him, while every minute of Rafe’s life feels like a fight he’s losing.
Instead of hurting you, he swallows down his words with a swig of beer. Maybe all of Zach’s scolding for his lack of manners is finally working.
“Enjoy the party, yeah?” Rafe says to you. He steps away before you can reply.
Later on, you’re chatting with Kacey when you feel rhythmic buzzes in your pocket. You pull your phone out to see Zach’s name on your screen.
“Hello?” you answer.
“Finally,” he laughs. “Can you open the front door for me? I got locked out.”
A moment later, you meet Zach on the first floor, wishing your heart didn’t skip the way it does when he smiles at you through the glass door.
“I’m an idiot,” he says once you let him in. “I forgot my keys. Thanks.”
“Sure,” you laugh.
“You know, you’re the fourth person I called.” Zach puts an arm around your shoulders as you walk through the lobby. He’s never touched you like this and it’s comforting, but then again, everything about Zach is comforting. “Nobody else answered.”
By the way he’s being more affectionate than usual and slurring his words, you can tell he’s drunk.
“Why were you outside?” you ask.
“I walked someone down,” he answers. “Actually, a girl I met because of that video you posted.”
Likely the girl you saw messaging him just a few nights ago. He must have replied and liked her so much that he invited her tonight. Your heart aches.
“How’d it go?” you ask, feigning indifference.
“Good,” Zach replies. “I think she had fun.”
Of course he answers selflessly, more concerned about what she thought of him. You enter the elevator and he parts from you, pressing the button.
“Was Rafe being nice?” he asks. He obviously noticed you talking to his brother.
“He was actually telling me to leave,” you reply. Zach’s eyes widen and you laugh. “Wow, you’re gullible. I’m kidding. Yes, he was nice.”
He did leave your conversation pretty abruptly, but you’d rather not tell Zach in case he feels the need to apologize for his brother’s behavior again.
“Okay. Good.” Zach looks up at the changing numbers on the screen, smiling proudly as he leans back against the elevator wall.
His younger brother can be brash and reckless, but Zach knows it’s all because his feelings overwhelm him. He sees right through Rafe’s attempts to hide it from everyone, including himself.
Everyone thinks Zach is the emotional one. He isn’t. He doesn’t even come close to how sensitive and unstable Rafe can be.
“He’s a good guy,” he says. “I love him to death. We’ve been through a lot together and when our mom left, he…”
You look over at Zach’s profile, his lips curved into a frown.
“He took it hard and I don’t think he ever really got over any of it,” he finishes his sentence.
His inhibitions have clearly been silenced by alcohol, and you’d ask for more information if it didn’t feel like you were taking advantage of his drunken state.
The elevator dings. The doors slide open. Rafe’s standing in the hallway, holding his phone, having just caught up with Zach’s missed notifications.
“Where were you?” Zach says, mocking offense. “Do you even care that I was left out in the cold? You know I don’t like being alone.”
“Alright, come on,” Rafe says, shaking his head in disapproval as he pulls Zach forward by the shoulder. He meets your eyes for a second. “How much did you drink?”
“Relax,” Zach says, then laughs. “Wow. For once, I’m telling you that.”
The three of you walk down the hallway towards the loft. Your arms are crossed, still confused about your feelings for Rafe, still hurt that Zach doesn’t see anything worth pursuing in you.
“I love you, you know?” Zach mumbles to his brother. “I was just saying how much we’ve been through and how much I love you.”
Rafe’s body goes cold. He glares at you.
“What did he say?” he asks you, tense.
“I could barely understand him,” you fib. You don’t want to embarrass either one of them.
“You’re not gonna say you love me back?” Zach says to Rafe.
“Dude,” Rafe scoffs. “You cannot hold your booze. You’re going to bed.”
“Never,” Zach murmurs.
After everything that’s happened tonight, you feel too disoriented to be able to laugh.
(part two)
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rowdyluv · 3 months ago
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summary: jack is fuming mad about the gossip blog’s post about y/n. he makes a trip to her public relations manager’s office to settle the issue.
word count: 1k
warnings: angry jack, profanity, use of y/n,
notes: sincerest apologies for the delay and that it’s so short. I don’t want to mix two topics into one part and shorten the series, still working through hurricane helene damages at my sisters and a lot of co workers were affected and haven’t been able to come in.
© property of quinnylouhughesx43 ; do not copy and re-upload as your own - anywhere. do not place my work inside AI codes, do not translate.
Jack stormed into Ms. Castellanos' office, his usual bright blue eyes now a fiery mix of anger and desperation. He slammed his phone down on her desk, the screen displaying the latest headline from 'Pucking Gossip', a notorious bullshit gossip blog that had a knack for stirring drama in the lives of professional hockey players.
"You've got to be kidding me," he barked, his voice echoing off the eerily empty white walls. Castellanos kept her office appearance the way she typically came across, plain and empty. "What the hell is this? Did you even know this was out there? If not, what the hell are you doing all day? What are your employees doing? Get some smart computer person to it taken down. Find the person who wrote it, and get them to take it down. I don’t care just do it.”
Jack paced her office chewing the edge of his fingers, then his bottom lip, and back to his fingers. His motions flipped from anger, frustration, to worry for Y/n. Worry for if she had seen the lies someone had put out about her and now who knows how many people have seen it.
Ms. Castellanos took a moment to re-read the article again for the 100th time, her eyes narrowing with each line. When reading the article before she didn’t see much wrong with it. It was just another day for her in the office, another player’s problem becoming hers to clean up.
From a professional stand point she knew the stakes of the situation. Y/n had become a crucial part of Jack’s image rebranding, and any negative light on her could ruin everything they had worked so hard for. But, it was then she realized Y/n truly meant more to him than the agreement. She was skeptical of the best friends story he had spun out when suddenly she was the one taking the place of his fake girlfriend, but it’s clear now. But best friend doesn’t describe his feelings towards her in the slightest with the way he’s acting. She took a deep breath, her hands resting gently on the cold metal edge of her desk.
"Jack, I understand that this is upsetting, but we need to handle this strategically. We can't just go after the blogger or demand they take it down," Ms. Castellanos said calmly, her eyes never leaving the screen of the phone.
Jack's pacing grew more agitated, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "How is this strategic? They're tearing apart Y/n's reputation! She's not even met the girls yet." He jabbed a finger at the article, as if the digital ink could feel his fury.
Ms. Castellanos looked up from the screen, her expression shifting to one of understanding. "I know how much you care for her, Jack, and we will address this. But we can't let our emotions dictate our response. We need to control the narrative, not give them more ammo for their next article. You know all too well how quickly they will tear you apart.”
Jack stopped his pacing, his gaze locking onto hers. "But they're lying about her. She's not like that. She’s never been like that." His voice grew softer, the anger giving way to genuine concern for his friend's well-being.
Ms. Castellanos nodded, placing the phone aside. "I believe you, Jack. But we must be careful. We need to gather all the facts and build a counter-narrative that is both truthful and compelling." She paused, tapping her manicured nails on the desk. “One of the team’s charity galas is coming up. I will arrange for Amanda to interview you and Y/n on the red carpet. She will have specific questions to ask about why Y/n sits behind the bench versus why she doesn’t sit in the private box. I will arrange seating so that instead of your usual table with the singles, you’ll be with the couples. Giving her an opportunity to meet and chat. It is your responsibility to tell your teammates that none of this.” She waves her finger in a circle above the phone before sliding it across her desk. “Is true and that Y/n isn’t who it makes her out to be.”
Jack's fists unclenched slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. "Okay," he agreed, though the skepticism was clear in his voice. "But what about the blog? What if they don't believe us?"
Castellanos steepled her fingers, her gaze sharp. "We'll have to be proactive. I'll draft a statement from both you and Y/n addressing the rumors. We'll release it before the gala so the media knows we're aware and in control of the story. We have taken multiple pictures of the two of you bumping fists or shaking hands before games or in between periods. We’ve caught you looking at her from the bench during timeouts too. We can spin a story out of it. In the statement release pre-gala we will be sure to include that the gala is the first time she will be meeting the entire team and their significant others as well. Clearing everything up, then Amanda will get personal statements in her interview.”
Jack took a deep breath, his eyes flickering with hope. He knew the PR world was a minefield, but he trusted Castellanos knew the terrain better than anyone. He finally sat down in the chair across from her desk, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his anxiety. The first genuine smile since he walked into her office graced his features. "Thank you, I appreciate it. I just need a moment to chill out."
Ms. Castellanos nodded in understanding, her own expression softening. "I'll get to work on the statement immediately. You go home and simply believe in me to get it taken care of.”
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