#it’s not a tag game but you can do it if you want
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anotheranonymousquill · 3 days ago
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@shinynewmemories these tags need to be seen.
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Kindness is hard work. But it can change lives and remind people why we even bother fighting.
Kindness is a sacrifice. Choosing to go out of your way to help people who scorn you, choosing to love instead of ignore, and choosing to resist the every person for themselves mentality is brave.
Kindness easily goes unnoticed. Its often mistaken as weakness or stupidity to help those who could hurt you and respect people weaker than yourself when it's hard enough surviving alone. Giving others food when it invites others to hurt you (literally in the case of giving Katniss bread) isn't convenient. But it's brave. It's selfless and stupid and powerful to look out for others.
Kindness unites people. It can turn foe to friend and competitor to ally. In games where everything is at stake, choosing kindness can change everything. In giving up his privilege, sharing what little he had at a cost to himself simply because Peeta has genuine compassion for people and refuses to give up that compassion, he changed the world.
Katniss fights and sacrifices for people she loves. Her refusal to give up on protecting them inspires people to keep going when it looks like there is no hope.
Peeta loves because it is the best way he knows to fight the lack around and inside of him. He was never the best fighter, only the second. He was never loved by the people in his home, so he turned to the only thing that felt worth it and built his life on small steps of kindness, love, and joy. His love for people and refusal to stop choosing kindness even in a game of death, reminds others that's its worth helping those around you and loving your community.
Together, with Katniss's refusal to give up, and his refusal to play by the rules that divide humans into competitors, they could keep a fire alive long enough to do damage. Rage can spark rebellion, but many things can and they had a lot of dry kindling for this one. But you need to keep the fire burning if you want to actually cook anything. And sometimes it takes more than just a spark to burn away any snow dampening your cookfire. If you excuse my overreach with this metaphor.
So yeah, as op said, compassion is rebellious. And a love of people deep enough to act on that compassion is powerful.
Katniss: I have chosen Gale and the Rebellion.
Peeta: *suggests that they shouldn't quell the rebellion, breaks the law to offer Rue's and Thresh's families money, uses his velvet tongue to enrapture the Capitol people, lies about Katniss being pregnant in an attempt to stop the Quarter Quell, refuses to fight for his own life in either of his two Games*
girl Peeta's continued existence is an act of rebellion!!!!! he's rebelled against oppression since y'all were 11 years old and he tossed you that bread! his compassion is more rebellious than Gale's fury ever was.
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cheapshrimpysheep · 9 hours ago
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What if They were Dads?
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SUMMARY: Headcanons of what I think they would be like as fathers to your child. And what if his dormmates were like honorary uncles to the child?
CHARACTERS: OB Students (Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia)
TAGS: Headcanon; Fem!Reader (AFAB) (I never really know what tags to use but I hope you know what I mean)
WORD COUNT: An average of 690 words per character.
COMMENTS: I would have liked to have made a headcanon about the relationship with the boys' parents and siblings, but since we don't know them that well or at all on the Eng Server like Vil's father, I think I'll leave that for a possible post that complements this one. If you want.
Since I didn't want each character to have a big chunk of text, I put them as paragraphs instead of bullet points.
I hope you enjoy 🩵
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CONTEXT: This was written with a cisgender female reader in mind. Reader is Yuu. But if you want (and can) read it in any other way, feel free to.
By the way, this is one of those moments when I wish English had a second person plural, instead of the singular and plural being the same. Whenever I write “your child” I mean it in the plural (you, the reader, and his)
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Riddle’s child(ren) call him: Father
Riddle has the same demands and standards for his child that he has for himself. But he doesn't want to make the same mistakes as his mother, so in comparison he can be more permissive. Because of this he will ALWAYS listen to you if you tell him he is being too harsh.
In terms of studies, etiquette and behaviour he is quite strict as you would expect. But when it comes to play he lets his child do almost anything they want.
He doesn't know how to play with his child, but he will always make an effort to learn how to and do it with them. He almost seems to regress to the childhood he never had and wants to give to his child. Whenever the child learns a new game, they will show it and teach it to Riddle and he will be delighted with it.
Although he is strict, he is also relatively protective, especially if your child is a girl. He tries not to be overly protective, but he can't help but worry about your child. If there was a right way to raise a child, is he doing his job well enough? You will have several conversations at first to reassure him that he is doing a good job.
He will study any and all parenting books that experts in child behaviour and education recommend. This kind of knowledge is never too much. Which often leads you to try to convince him to relax and just trust his instincts and what he feels is right. The child is his, not all those authors and experts. Sometimes there are things that a parent simply knows.
Lawful and calm Uncle Trey. They love uncle Trey's sweets! Sometimes Riddle asks him if he's not giving them too much sweets and Trey always assures him that it's okay because he knows how to make healthier sweets and the limit for a child to eat. If they weren't already Riddle's child, the whole thing about always brushing their teeth could be scary.
Chaotic Uncle Che'nya. The crazy and fun Uncle! Your child and Che'nya join forces (maybe even with you) to play pranks on Riddle. Never anything that could get the child into trouble with their father, just enough for everyone, Riddle included, to have fun.
Uncle Ace and Uncle Deuce are more from your side than Riddle's honestly. Ace is a bit like Che'nya in the case of being one of the chaotic pranksters uncles. But he is also the uncle of magic tricks who is always deceiving, but also entertaining your child with them.
Deuce is the rad uncle with a cool moto and/or even cooler blastcycle, who offers to take your child for a ride in it with him. Your child also finds it funny to see the two of them arguing amicably. But it’s even funnier to see them imitating their father trying to order them to stop arguing.
Uncle Cater doesn't show up very often, but they like him. He's not chaotic like Ace and Che'nya, but he's also fun. Your child enjoys receiving compliments from him and taking pictures with him.
Your child imitates their father scolding Grim too. Just like Riddle (and probably because they're still little) they have a very bad temper. Riddle gets embarrassed whenever you say that someone takes after their father.
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Leona’s child(ren) call him: Dad
Leona still doesn't like kids... your child(ren) is/are just an exception.
Yes, Leona would treat a daughter slightly differently than he would treat a son. In the same way that he treats men and women a little differently. But the only difference is that he would be tougher on a son than a daughter, but will still be affectionate regardless.
No matter what gender his child is, he wants the same for them: be strong both physically and mentally. To outsiders like some servants or citizens who don't know him, they may get to the point of thinking Leona is a harsh father who doesn't deserve all that love from his child, and he will tell both you and your child not to mind that. But the truth is that he is just like he was with you at school: a tough guy who hides a caring heart.
Leona continues to show himself to be a person who doesn't want anyone to upset him and who would growl at anyone who bothers him. The only people who can get close to him even when he's angry and remain safe and sound are you and your child. He'll still growl at you and your child quietly, but there will be a volume that is the line, like if his growl is louder than that limit it's because he's getting really angry, until then it's just him being him.
Your child will already have the best private teachers and tutors (one of them being Kifaji/Neji if he’s still alive), but even so, Leona will want to make them study and learn more. But in that discreet way that he knows. He will not force them to study more, he will find a way to convince them to want to learn more on their own.
You end up being the most affectionate parent and the one they trust for emotional comfort. Leona is the tough love, you are the soft love (at least in comparison). Leona will always tease you, insinuating that you are too soft and only spoil your child. Although he enjoys when you spoil him too.
He is 100% the ‘Go ask your mom’ kind of dad.
He lets his child take naps with him. And you too.
If he has more than one child, he will police himself not to favor any of them. He may have a tendency to favor the younger ones because of what he went through as the youngest himself, but none of his children will be treated in any special/different way based on their birth order. Neither the youngest nor the oldest.
He will try to convince his child not to be too close (emotionally) to their uncle or cousin, but won't stop them from playing with Cheka. When your child is old enough not to tell others what is said in your home, Leona and them will talk badly about Falena and Cheka behind their backs.
Leona will prefer your child to play with Ruggie and/or his children. On the one hand, he wants to keep them away from his family, but on the other hand, he also wants his child to know what the real world is like, to see both wealth and poverty, to know royalty as they knows their people and only then create their own judgement.
They don't call anyone uncle or aunt other than Falena and his wife. In the same way, Leona also doesn't give cute titles to anyone without being sarcastically. Even when he calls you “love”, “darling”, “honey” or something like that, it's to tease you.
Whenever you go to Shaftlands, whether for democratic reasons or on holiday, you always try to find a way to meet with Jack. Leona pretends that he only helps you with this because you want to see your friend and he wants to get rid of his family. Both you and Jack know that he just doesn't want to admit that he wants to see him too. Jack is the cool parent's friend who taught your child how to snowboard. While they are little they like to hug his tail because it’s fluffy.
Despite everything, he doesn't want his child to have the same lack of hope that he has, and despite trying to hide it, he always feels extremely guilty and bad whenever your child says something like that. At these times he relies on you to be the ray hope in that house, they will both need you for that.
Both Leona and your child are afraid of you when you get really serious or angry.
Do you know that scene from The Lion King where Mufasa uses Zazu to give Simba an pouncing lesson? Leona often does something similar, but instead of the target being a blue bird, it's a magical creature called Grim.
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Azul’s child(ren) call him: Daddy (when little) Dad (when older)
Azul is an extremely emotional father, despite trying to hide it. There's going to be a lot of moments like: “HE/SHE IS THE CUTEST LITTLE THING IN THE WHOLE- *clears throat* I mean, he/she is such a charming little child.” He will most likely cry at your baby's first words, steps, anything.
Azul is overprotective! If any living creature even thinks about harming your child, he will tortu- that is, find a completely legal way to ensure that it never happens again. Now, if you'll excuse him, he suddenly felt like talking to Jade and Floyd. (The same protectiveness applies to you.)
Although he is very (secretly) emotional and loves to spoil his child, he is also relatively strict about their studies. He likes to spoil them (and you) when it's deserved, but he will not raise a spoiled child! This ends up balancing things out a bit.
He will hide the whole mafia-like part of his life from his child. Dad is just doing business, boring adult stuff. Maybe when your child is older he will start to reveal a little of that side of his life, if they later want to join their father it will be their choice. But until then, let them be innocent children, they are cuter and happier that way, there is time for everything.
He will always hold back his emotional side so as not to be overly affectionate. Unless his child starts crying. At that point his mask falls completely and he becomes the most affectionate and comforting father there can be, that is his weakness.
And if one day the child realizes this and starts using crying to get what they want from him, he won't know whether to be angry that he is being emotionally manipulated by his own child, or proud that they learned so quickly.
You will be the only one immune to the fake crying.
From the beginning, Azul has been wary and suspicious of letting Jade and Floyd be like uncles to your child. However, you two ended up letting this happen, but Azul will always keep an eye open.
Both Jade and Floyd will definitely use the child to play pranks on Azul. Mostly Floyd, Jade prefers to watch and assist. Azul will always be upset with the twins, never with his child. And depending on the severity of the prank, he will turn on his overprotective side and threaten Jade and Floyd that if that happens again they will never see your child again. They never go beyond that limit.
Every now and then when Floyd plays with your child, he will do that joke where he playfully tells them he's going to catch them and bite them. Actually in his playful voice, he doesn't want to scare them. And they will run to Azul and hide behind his legs asking for help while laughing. Or tentacles if they are in their merfolk form.
If you ask them Jade is the scary uncle (only sometimes) but they themselves don't even know why. It's just his vibe or something. However, they are not afraid to ask any of them for something, it being to play or for help.
Azul loves cooking for you and your child, and they love their father's cooking.
You know those little plastic cashiers where kids pretend to have a little shop and try to sell things to people at home? Usually parents or sibling. Azul loves to play this with his child because it is a great and fun way to pass on his knowledge. Both about sales and about taking care of your money. Usually using the Grim as a guinea pig. Grim also likes to play because he always ends up with food in exchange for toy money.
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Jamil’s child(ren) call him: Dad (in informal moments) and Father (at formal events)
Jamil needed to learn to express himself more and better emotionally so as not to end up being a cold father without meaning to. He needs your help to teach your child when to hold back and when to know when they are in a safe space to let go.
The only thing that will follow Jamil forever is an inevitable feeling of guilt for your child having the same fate as him, simply for being his child: serving the Al-Asim family with no other choice. But you can be assured that if there is a way to stop this and give his child freedom of choice, whatever that method may be, he will not give up until he finds it and do it! Normally parents want to give their children what they always wanted and could never have, in Jamil's case it’s freedom.
There was something Jamil wanted to do, but he didn't have the courage to ask the Al-Asim for some kind of vacation. But you had! Using your great friendship with Kalim, you managed to get him to allow you to take a vacation long enough for you to travel as a family, as Jmail wanted. Jamil has always wanted to travel alone, but now with you and your child he would like to travel as a family and give his child the experiences he would have liked to have had himself.
He is quite demanding with his child's education and training. However, his attitude towards this is always calm and collected, and he is attentive to his child's limitations and needs. He is a great and responsible tutor, who knows how to distinguish between being a teacher and being a father.
He is usually quite serious, so you and your child are the ones who start messing with him to have fun and make him laugh. It's always nice when he reminds you two that he can also be a tease. Normal or biggest target of your joint teasing ends up being Grim at some point.
During his work as Kalim's servant, Jamil always had to cook a lot and he's not that big a fan of cooking, so so he can rest at home you're the one who cooks most of the time. He will teach you everything you want to learn and at first you will cook together a lot until you feel comfortable cooking alone. But even then he will continue to offer to help you. Your child will continue to say that Jamil's food is tastier, but yours is prettier. And the food you make together is the best because it’s tasty and pretty. Jamil will also encourage his child to cook with you two so that they can learn from a young age.
His child knows that there is only one thing in this world that can make their father scream in fear: Bugs! If your child is also afraid of insects, you're screwed, because you will be the insect killer in that house. However, if it is just the two of them, Jamil's protective instinct will be stronger and despite his fear he will protect his child. If your child is not afraid of insects, then Jamil will have two protectors. “Can you do dad a favor?”; “Where is it?”; “Living room, south wall last time I saw.”; “Does it fly?”; “...Yes.”
Kalim will treat your child almost like one of his own children, for loving you both so much. He got emotional when he found out you were pregnant, he wanted to help pay for your doctor's appointments if necessary (never was), and he got emotional again when your child was born. He loves buying toys for your child too and give them gifts. He would love for Jamil to let them call him Uncle Kalim. And he loves it when your kids play together.
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Vil’s child(ren) call him: Father 
Vil wants to have a family that is at its best as he likes to be at his best himself. He wants you and your child to be as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside, just as he strives to be as well. However, he would treat a daughter slightly differently than a son because of the different pressures of societal beauty standards.
With a son he would be as strict with him as he is with himself. But with a daughter, he knows she's more likely to suffer from these kinds of things. So although he continues to be relatively strict and wants her to be the best she can be, he ends up being softer with criticism and stronger with praise and soft love than he would be with a son.
He would hire a specialist, like as a child psychologist or something like that, to always know the best ways to rise and protect your child. Children of famous people like him, especially in the digital and social media age, may need more protection from their parents in this regard, in addition to the toxic pressure of comparison that exists. However, because Vil cares so much about your child's personal development as their happiness, he may end up putting enormous pressure on himself to be a perfect parent too.
Both Vil and your child will need you to be the person who brings them both back to the real world and the life of a loving family with flaws like any human being. Vil will always listen to you if you feel he may be being too harsh and demanding with your child, or with himself in terms of parenting.
If you are the type of person who likes to tease Vil by letting yourself be sloppy from time to time, (always at home) then your child will also like to tease their father like that. “You have your mother’s cheekiness, I see.” Vil sighs but laughs. The teasing includes eating sweets and food that Vil would not approve of. You are the parent they ask for things from and who best comforts and pampers them. You two probably team up to make Vil relax and have fun with you.
His child will have the best teachers and tutors, go to the best schools and best establishments for any extracurricular activity they want to have. Vil will probably force them to have an extracurricular activity but they will be free to choose which one.
Rook is OBSESSED with your child! In a respectful way of course, he is just already a huge fan. The result of combining your DNA with Vil's? MERVEILLEUX! He won't hold back the tears when he sees the baby for the first time. He will LOVE playing with your child. He will babysit for free and will be happy to do so if you ever need. It will be a long time before he stops getting so emotional whenever your child calls him "Uncle Rook."
Uncle Epel is the rad uncle, when Vil is not around. He is that person who will help your child do cool activities that Vil may not allow. Like taking a blastcycle ride with him, eat grilled meats, playing with things that make the child very dirty or other things that Vil didn't like Epel to do when they were at NRC. But if at least one parent allows it (you), then there is no problem. Right? All this, of course, when Vil is not around.
When he is there, both Epel and your child behave like little angels. You and Epel have to be very careful that the child doesn't get careless and say something in Epel's dialect in front of Vil. They love Uncle Epel because it is fun to do cool things without their father knowing and with your help.
Your child likes to use Grim as a doll to dress up in cute clothes. The funny thing is that Grim likes it too because your child eventually realizes that if they tell him he looks cool instead of cute, he'll let them keep dressing him up.
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Idia’s child(ren) call him: Daddy (when little) Dad (when older)
Idia doesn't believe he can be a good father. A shut-it and antisocial otaku like him? Are you crazy? That's a disaster! He can't take care of himself, how is he going to help you raise a child? However, and especially with you, he also has that overly cocky side that believes that even being an antisocial nerd he would be 1000 times better than a lot of parents out there. So basically he has a tendency to oscillate between these two moods.
In comparison, you are the strict parent, he is the parent who spoils the child. They are both afraid of you when you get upset. He's a ‘Don't tell your mother’ type of dad. He can't say no to his child, but, oddly enough, he can't be emotionally manipulated either. He may even let his child do a lot of things, but even he has limits to what he knows is good or bad for them.
Because he's the permissive father, he's also the scariest when he gets serious. He can never get really mad at his child, but he can say a firm and assertive “No” if necessary. However, if they are still very young and start crying, he will panic and call you immediately. You will then have to comfort Idia and tell him that no, he did not make a decision that put him on the path to the traumatic and apocalyptic ending. What he probably did was the opposite.
If it depends on him, his child will be a nerd/otaku just like his father. However, he doesn't want them to be socially anxious like him and will always encourage them to go for walks with you outside even if it's without him. That doesn't mean there aren't times you drag him outside with you.
Besides occasionally questioning whether he is being a good father, there is something else that haunts him... He still carries and will probably always carry the feeling of guilt for what happened to Ortho, so he is absolutely TERRIFIED that something like that may happen again.
Idia has always tried to keep your child as far away as possible from all areas that are dangerous or even remotely similar to the hallway where that happened. But if your child ever happens to even enter an area that their father did not allow, they will get to know a side of Idia that sometimes you yourself don’t even remember exists: The overprotective, traumatized side that isn't afraid to scare his child if it means keeping them away from the danger. And probably the only way they'll see his red hair. But it will probably be after that, that the two of you will have an open heart conversation and Idia will apologize.
Now, about Uncle Ortho, they LOVE uncle Ortho! He's the one who goes for a walk with you and your child when you and he can't convince Idia to go too. He is a cheerful uncle who loves to play with your child. You three made up stories to explain why uncle Ortho was a humanoid. You always make up different and crazy stories to jest with them and make them change the subject. The day will come when they will be old enough to know the truth.
Idia may even talk badly about himself a lot of the times, but no matter what his child do, they are talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular and everything good. “Of course that's because they inherited it from you, not me.” He will say with a smile.
Both Idia and your child treat Grim like a pet cat and find it funny to see him getting grumpy.
Idia spoke to his child in that baby voice when they themselves were also babies. And maybe also when they are children to the point where they tell him to stop treating them like babies.
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Malleus’s child(ren) call him: Daddy (when little) Dad (when older) Father (at formal events)
The day Malleus found out you were pregnant was already a happy day, but the day your child was born was the happiest day of his life! And every moment with them is the happiest moment of his day. And of course with you too. He totally and completely loves his family!
Anyone who dares to speak ill of the child of Malleus Draconia, especially about the fact that they are half-human, will suffer the consequences! Anyone who spoke openly about the child being something of a disgrace, shame or an abomination was either killed or imprisoned. (Depending on how opposed you really are to Malleus killing or ordering someone to be killed.) and of course, the same applies to talking bad about you.
The problem is that this is doing the same thing to your child that was done to him. He's scaring everyone and making them afraid to come near your child for fear of saying or doing something that might upset them or Malleus. He listens to you and agrees with you, showing concern and thoughtfulness about what should be done. He hates people being disrespectful to the ones he loves, but he also doesn't want his child to go through what he went through.
What ends up happening is that, on Malleus's part, he realizes that he has to start learning ways for people to respect his child without using fear, but to do that he also has to start letting certain insults slide. He doesn't like it, but if it's what's best for his child, he'll do the best he can. Although the same applies if they disrespect you. He hates it so much!
In the case of your child, you are helped by Lilia (if he’s still alive), Silver, Sebek and their families. Perhaps trying to spend more time among their people and with other fae, humans, and half-fae might be beneficial to a child's social development.
Lilia would treat the child as if they were his own grandchild. Even if Silver also has children, they are ALL Lilia's grandchildren! “There's no denying it any longer... I am... officially... an old man... For the best possible reasons!” Everyone will rescue your child from Lilia's food. “Never eat anything that Grandpa Lilia cooks, you hear?”
Silver is the calm uncle who, despite not being the most fun to play with, is the one they turn to when they want to rest and simply have a good chill time. Or take a nap. Probably who they turn to to run away and hide from Sebek when he's being annoying. He ends up being the adult (than is not their parents) that they trust most and feel most comfortable with. Silver is very happy when they ask him for help to get closer to an animal to see it better, and even more so if they and the animals end up interacting and playing with each other.
Now about Uncle Sebek... If there is anyone more protective and flattering of that child than Malleus, it is Sebek. He cried when the child was born, for sure. And cried even more when the child said his name, or whenever they at least tried to. The day they called him "Uncle Sebek" he was about to have a heart attack. The problem is that he ends up being one of those type of person who adores children (although in his case the only ones he likes would be Malleus's and his own children) to the point that the child finds them annoying and clingy. “But don't tell Uncle Sebek that, he'll be sad.”
Whenever the child throws a tantrum that ends up causing their powers to manifest in storms or uncontrolled magic, Malleus will take care of it while you stay away and safe. To him, any attack would be mere tickling, but he always made sure that your child knows that the same does not apply to you. They may end up thinking that you are very fragile while they are little, but it is better this way to ensure that they do not hurt you unintentionally.
This also means that whenever you need to say ‘No’ to your child, Malleus will do it if there is a possibility that they would start throwing tantrums. At least while they are young and cannot control their powers well.
Malleus also runs the risk of being a father who spoils his children.
Your child and Grim probably burn a lot of things around the castle because they play together and they both have fire powers.
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If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
And if you would like to read this but with other characters you can write in the comments. If this post has a lot of notes (likes and reblogs) I might consider making a second part with other characters.
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adieutristana · 1 day ago
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hii! could i request the arcane women comforting reader on her period?
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of course! thank you for the request <3
b2b by charli xcx on repeat yuuuup
summary; headcanons of the arcane women comforting their girlfriend on her period.
characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn, maddie
tags/warnings; menstruation, fluff, comfort, suggestive (jinx's section), reader has hell periods, mentions of poor mental health, can't think of anything else honestly
minors and men dni.
jinx;
✧.* idk why, but i headcanon that jinx is one of those super lucky girls who has really light 3-4 day long periods. basically nothing at all.
✧.* so when you told her that your periods were long, and heavy, and painful, she was honestly taken aback. jinx was a bit puzzled as to how that's possible.
✧.* "but mine aren't that bad! are you suuure?"
✧.* she doesn't mean anything by it, she's just genuinely perplexed. sometimes it's difficult for jinx to put these kinds of things into perspective. however, the second she sees you doubled over in pain, clutching your stomach and whimpering in pain, her instincts kick in and she's rushing to your side.
✧.* "oh- oh, toots, are you okay?! what happened? why d'ya look so hurt?" she'd ask, crouching down next to you with panic evident in her voice.
✧.* "just... on my period," you'd strain. "nothing out of the ordinary. don't worry about me."
✧.* jinx absolutely will worry about you, though. she's by your side, asking you what you need. since her own periods are so mild, she doesn't know exactly where to start with this sort of thing. but she's doing her best.
✧.* she'll research! she finds out all about the cravings, mood swings, pains, and how to soothe all of those things. she nerds out when she gets to research anyways, but she'll go above and beyond to make sure her girl is comfortable and happy. as much as you can be during shark week, anyways.
✧.* the same day she finds you in pain, she's swiping things from shelves of pharmacies and convenience stores like no tomorrow. pain medicine, water bottles that she plans to heat up, chocolates, tubs of ice cream, blankets, lots of sanitary products. hell, she'll even burn a few dvds so the two of you can have movie nights. jinx doesn't do anything halfway, especially not something like this.
✧.* even more clingy than normal somehow. i imagine jinx runs pretty cold, but also has a lot of natural body heat, if that makes sense? she uses the guise of being your 'built-in heating pad,' though anyone can tell she just wants to be close to you and comfort you. she'll have both her arms and legs wrapped around you, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck and peppering kisses along the soft skin.
✧.* "mm.. don't mind me, sugar. just wanna be here for 'ya, help you feel better 'n all that."
✧.* she's got such a sweet tooth, jinx might swipe a few of the snacks she stole for you while you're not looking... sorry. she can't help herself
✧.* will try to distract you to the best of her ability. movie nights as i said, as well as taking you around the streets of zaun (when you can manage to stand upright), gaming with you and purposely letting you win just so she can see your smile and hear your laugh.
✧.* along with the extra clingy thing, jinx will not let you out of your sight until she's absolutely sure that you're off your period. it's not that she doesn't think you can handle yourself, but she just worries so much. part of her knows it's irrational, but seeing you in so much pain eats at her inside, makes her afraid that she's going to lose you. even though it's just a natural part of your cycle
✧.* she's also read that other kinds of relief can be especially helpful for cramps, so you know jinx will be offering that to you if you know what i mean.
vi;
✧.* oh she's right there with you.
✧.* has the worst fucking periods known to man. it's like she's completely MIA as soon as it hits every month, she's just dead to the world. trust me, she understands.
✧.* which means that she can help you that much better! she knows firsthand what it's like and what works for her, but she also knows that it's not a one-size-fits-all situation. it'll take a bit of time, but vi knows what she's doing.
✧.* she's already got a stash of things lined up for you in her bathroom the day after you tell her you've gotten your period. panty liners, pads, tampons of different sizes. she doesn't even bother asking what you prefer to use, she just wants you to have the options depending on what you need at what time. only the best for her girl
✧.* fridge, freezer and cupboards are also full to the brim of your favorite snacks, the best medications. candies, chocolates, baked goods, ice cream, pain relief... all the good stuff.
✧.* don't even bother asking where she got all this stuff and how she could afford it, just let vi take care of you.
✧.* "shh, cupcake. that's for me to worry about. you sit your pretty self down and let me do all the hard work, 'kay?"
✧.* has heated blankets and water bottles ready for you at all times! the second she hears the slightest whimper of pain from you she's got the water bottle in her hand, instructing you to lean back so she can put it against your lower abdomen. she'll stay with you to make sure you're okay. she needs that reassurance both for you and herself.
✧.* vi is the type of lover who can't rest until she knows for sure that you're okay, regardless of how much you tell her that you're alright.
✧.* "i'm fine, baby. really, you don't need to worry about me." you'd say, though the way your face contorted in discomfort betrayed your words. "are you sure? you can't fool me, pretty. i know you're hurting. just let me help you. that's what i'm here for."
✧.* she also knows that insomnia comes with menstruation at times, so she'll make sure you sleep in her bed until you're off your period. holding you close, rubbing soothing circles over your back and stomach to help relieve some of the pain for you. don't worry about clinging to her, don't worry about how long it takes you to fall asleep or even the possibility of bleeding onto her sheets. vi just wants to make you feel comfortable, she'll take care of everything later.
✧.* doesn't let you do a damn thing for yourself. she almost treats you as if you're made of glass. it's not that thinks you're helpless, vi knows damn well just how fierce and independent you are. but she also enjoys taking care of you and knowing she's making your life easier.
✧.* "i'm on my period, not helpless." you'd protest, crossing your arms over your chest with a light pout. vi would chuckle to herself, playfully pinching one of your cheeks. "i know, i know. but i just wanna do this for you, okay? let me take care of you."
mel;
✧.* mel probably knows your cycle by heart after a certain amount of time being with you. not in a creepy way, but she's just that connected and attuned to you.
✧.* she'll come to you a few days before she knows you're due for your period, concern evident in her tone. "are you starting to cramp at all, dear?" she'd ask, or something along the lines of, "i know you're due soon. no discomfort? any cravings? you can tell me these things, darling."
✧.* she has a constant stash of things and she knows your preferences when it comes to hygiene products, snacks, medicine, all of your favorite comforts. she truly knows you like the back of your hand.
✧.* she'll be taking off work for you as well, as much as you protest and assure her that you're okay. realistically, mel knows sure and well that you're okay. but she still wants that time to be with you and make sure that you're comfortable and you're in as little pain as possible. it's more for her own peace of mind.
✧.* her own are honestly pretty moderate, not too bad but not exactly pleasant either. though again, she's attuned to your own senses and knows exactly what you need.
✧.* mel will be basically attached to you by the hip. she doesn't let you out of her sight for a second out of pure worry for you and your well-being. seeing you nauseous, craving the most odd foods, doubled over in pain, it hurts your girlfriend to even think about. she knows she can't outright prevent all of that, but it'll ease her mind to be there by your side.
✧.* mel doesn't insist that you take it easy, she knows that life goes on despite everything. she doesn't want to hover over you too much, but again, she'll be by your side. helping you run errands, walking you to and from work, watching from the sidelines as you do those little things that make you happy. painting, reading, writing... any of it.
✧.* it's a well-known fact that she loves to spoil you, so if you mention wanting anything at all, she won't even go out and buy it for you. she'll take you to the store with her and tell you to just buy whatever you'd like. no limits.
✧.* "anything at all, beautiful. let me treat you." "but mel, this is-" she'd shush you lightly, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "too much? nonsense. i can handle it, you just tell me what you need. it pains me to see you so uncomfortable, regardless of how natural it is."
✧.* holding onto you so tightly, and you just know mel would give the best massages. literally anywhere that's sore, she'll massage for you with such love and care. her fingertips are a bit calloused and rough, but always so soft with you.
✧.* also runs you warm baths and even tosses in salts and flowers! they help her a lot when she's having period-related pains, so she hopes they'll have the same effect on you. she's happy to leave you to yourself, or sit near the edge of the tub and just talk to you. whatever would make you the most comfortable and happy.
sevika;
✧.* she's also got pretty mild periods, but she is very attuned to you and your senses. sevika can't exactly feel your pain and discomfort, though she knows how to ease it.
✧.* trust me when i say that she's got a good supply of things for you. all the sanitary products you could need, extra-strength pain medications, heated blankets, heat pads, snacks, the whole nine yards. uncomfortable and hurting? not on sevika's watch.
✧.* "just tell me what ya need, darlin'. you know i'll get it." she'd say, spooning you tightly while one hand rests over your lower stomach. you'd mumble light protests, but she wouldn't have it. "i know you're okay, babe. you tell me that enough. but i still wanna help, okay?"
✧.* so touchy and so clingy. sevika doesn't want to let go of you for a second, not if she can help it. whether that be holding you from behind while you move about the kitchen cooking, holding you close to her in bed, keeping an arm around your waist as you saunter around the lanes together, or brushing her lips against your forehead, she relishes that contact. especially when you're vulnerable like this.
✧.* she still has things to do. unfortunately, sevika's job isn't really one that she can take time off from, as much as she'd like to. but the second she gets off work, she's back home, by your side. your girlfriend is so loyal, so doting when it comes to you. a side of the usually gruff woman that's reserved exclusively for you.
✧.* she also won't hinder you from doing anything for yourself, the last thing she needs is for you to feel both excruciating pain and helplessness at the same time. however, sevika makes it clear that she's happy to take over whatever task you need if it gets to be too much.
✧.* you could be in the middle of a task when a cramp suddenly hits you, making you nearly fold in half and clutch at your stomach. "hey, what's wrong?" sevika would ask, cold metal against your shoulder. "cramps? come on, i'll take it from here. you go lay down."
✧.* do not worry about needing to ask for help with sevika. ever. she's more than happy to provide it for you, don't worry about asking for 'too much' or being 'too demanding.' you're her girlfriend, and you're on your period. there's no such thing as either of those with her.
✧.* "come on. you know whatever it is, i'll do it for you. so tell me," she'd pause, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow in that way she typically does, "what do you need, dove?"
✧.* also super attentive during sleep, would probably stay up just so that she can make sure you're okay and sleeping through the night. sevika is used to running on little to no sleep, thank her line of work. she'll try to keep it quiet, not let you know that she's observing, but she just worries. she wants to make sure you aren't suffering any bouts of insomnia. that, and seeing your peaceful expression during slumber is a plus.
caitlyn;
✧.* caitlyn gets it, she really does. one of piltover's strongest enforcers and officials, but struck down once a month by menstruation. something had to take her down a notch.
✧.* she knows exactly what'll help her, and she hopes it'll help you too. though she gives you options, since she knows you probably won't have all the same preferences as her when it comes to sanitary products, snacks, care, etc. cait will take her time so that she gets your routine down pat, before she eventually just has everything stocked in her home for when the time inevitably comes every month.
✧.* caitlyn is constantly checking in on you. she’ll ask you about every little thing, making sure that you’re not straining too hard, not in too much pain. you could be sitting on your bed, folding towels, and caitlyn would ask something like, “are you sure that’s not too much right now? if your back or stomach is hurting, i can take over.”
✧.* she’ll want to keep you at home with her on the days that are the hardest on you. the days where you’re groaning in pain, you can barely think straight from just how uncomfortable you are. when you’re an emotional mess from the mood swings and crying over a puppy you saw on the street. she wants to be there to comfort you and help you get back on your feet.
✧.* “shh… love, it’s fine. i know, that puppy was adorable.” you’d sniffle, looking up at her with pleading eyes. “can we get one, cait? please?” she’d chuckle quietly, letting out a heavy sigh. “maybe when i don’t have so much on my plate.”
✧.* she's on top of your every need. in pain? here's a bottle of painkillers. cravings? she's already got whatever you need. in the case that she doesn't, caitlyn is in the kitchen making something for you herself. she'll be damned if she lets her girlfriend go unsatisfied, especially on her period.
✧.* she'd be so doting especially when it comes to the pain, caitlyn wants to just hold you until all of the cramps are gone. realistically, she knows there's not much she can do besides offer a few over-the-counter methods. she's gonna have to wait until they run their course, but it doesn't make her want to cling to you any less. she wishes she could hold you and you'd feel the rest of the world melt away
✧.* "fuck, cait, it hurts," you'd whimper, clinging tight to the girl with your brows knitted together. she'd softly hush you, her one hand slipping under the fabric of your top to run soothing circles over your lower back. "i know, darling. i'm here, it'll be alright."
✧.* cait would run you warm baths as well, she's at your side the entire times. she'll throw in flower petals and salts, maybe even a bath bomb if it'll make you happy. not only will it help ease the pain, but making you feel cared for in this time is of the upmost importance to her. yes, you feel gross, but you don't have to! look at the nice bath she drew you! she'll even help wash you off if you need it, or she's happy to just stay by your side and talk to you as you soak.
maddie;
✧.* maddie's own are pretty moderate, but she has a cut-and-dry routine she's stuck to as a teenager. works like a charm every time her period rolls around, so she hopes those methods will work for you. though, if they don't, maddie will immediately stop and regroup.
✧.* maddie i don't think would be super in tune with everything.. i apologize. she'll connect the dots after she sees you hunched over in pain or with a bottle of painkillers in one hand and a tub of ice cream in the other, but she won't be able to pick up on it right away like some others might.
✧.* but that doesn't make her any less good at comforting you, let's make that abundantly clear. as soon as she catches onto what's happening, she's basically waiting on you hand and foot. maddie is devoted!
✧.* now of course, she's a junior officer. maddie can't be by your side as often as she'd like to, unfortunately. she likes her job, but sometimes she curses it for holding her back from her girlfriend in times of need.
✧.* so she second she's allowed off the job, she's swinging the door open with a bag full of snacks to make her presence known. "i'm home, darlin'! where are ya?" she'd announce, glancing around the empty space before her eyes land on you. "oh, there you are. here, i brought these back! sorry, i know i was gone for a while, but i'm here now, yeah?"
✧.* however, you'll have to ask for a lot of what you need. maddie knows that you're independent and capable of helping yourself, so she doesn't want to assume unless she knows for sure that you're incapable of it because of pain or discomfort. that's one of the things she doesn't really budge on. if you're able to voice what's bothering you, she'll be more than happy to be of help!
✧.* also really, really good at distracting you. she'll put on movies, plug in cassettes of your favorite albums, talk to you for hours on end about nothing and everything simultaneously. maddie figures that if she can take your mind off of it, that's better than just waiting out the discomfort.
✧.* she kinda sucks at cooking. sorry.. but! she'd still make sure any cravings of yours are filled. freezer is packed to the brim with ice cream, and she's got lots of sugary treats for you in her cupboards. i also would imagine she lives basically smack in the middle of piltover, next to a lot of vendors and convenience stores. so on the off-chance she doesn't have something you need, she's already on her way to grab it for you.
✧.* "i'll be right back, okay? just running around the corner. rest assured."
✧.* also so cuddly especially when it comes to being in bed with you. she's already clingy, but you might have to pry her off of you when you're on your period. she hopes you wouldn't want to, though, not when she's got her legs wrapped around your waist and her head nestled into the warmth of your neck.
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isaisliterallyhim · 2 days ago
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hey can you please write about reader giving nagi a handjob while he's playing but as revenge because he's been ignoring reader for his games so reader doesn't let him cum unless he wins the round but he can't focus on the game because of the pleasure he's feeling!! hoping for a kinda subby nagi if that's alright <3
YES YES OMG ANON BBY I SEE IT AHJWJSAJ delicious plot hehe!
"i'm about to show you, baby slow down!"
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ft. nagi seishiro . ooc! nagi ? . somewhat sub! nagi heh . aged up! characters . established-relationships . fem! reader . nsfw . smut . handjobs . cockwarming in the end ? . nagi's kinda a dick rn . use of mommy ig... . unreliable narrator.. :^
wc: 0.5k
cw: this might be dub-con idk tho
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"my girlfriend's always harassing me whenever i'm tryna play a game.. what a hassle," nagi started off. his friends giggled on vc. "she's a nice person, you'll get used to it."
a few rounds of horror games, nagi was carrying hard. (heh hard like him :x) horror games were yea, a hassle. but, not a hassle to him. unlike his friends, nagi didn't really scream. shit, he was so lazy he didn't even wanna be fazed.
this round in particular though... "g-good god..." the man whined, spasming a little. "you good, nagi?" bachira asked. "is the horror finally getting to you?" your softer, smaller hands pumping at his cock :p
it started off slow, nagi didn't really notice at first. slow and steady wins the race right? but after a few more minutes of getting ignored, you fastened the pace.
you locked eyes with nagi. your lips curling into a smirk. "sei, what're your friends g'na think when they realize that when you're receiving a handjob with little to no lubrication at all?" you began. "your cock was leaking so much pre — it was like you wanted me to do this!" you continued to yap, face now no longer in a cocky demeanor but, in a pouty expression now.
"[n-name]," the grey eyed man moaned out. your expression, your hands... the stimulation was getting to him. "w-wait guys- oooh..." nagi tried to get out, his voice now strained. "nagi, you weren't even screaming are you good?" isagi asked. screaming? nah this guy was CREAMING.
"y-yep, i'm good," he stuttered out. "i jus' need a few minutes off real qui.." his voice trailed off as he muted himself. his hand released the mouse as his calloused fingers wrapped around your hand. nagi began thrusting into your hand.
his shaft was absolutely tearing up, just like the man. tears leaked from his eyes while there was a bit of semen leaking out of his tip LOL.
"[name], s-slow down.. [name], i-i.." he couldn't even get the words out as he scrunched his eye shut. "sei, yknow you dont deserve this at all.. all you've done was ignore me n shit this whole week..." you frowned. nagi knew he was coming close, hell he WAS going to come.
"i'm sorry mommy, i didn' mean t'- god! please, i'm sorry!" he apologized. the stimulation actually got to nagi as he came. his precious n delicious come leaked out as he let out the most gorgeous moan you've ever heard during the whole time you two were together.
your eyes kinda widened. nagi had this flushed, fucked out expression. he was panting like crazy. "[name], i'm so sorry.." he sobbed.
"what happened to emotions being a hassle, seishiro?" you teased. his sweatpants n boxers were to his knees LOL. nagi slid down your shorts n panties. "please let me feel your warm cunt, ma'am.. please use me f' your pleasure, pretty.." nagi mumbled. most genuine mumble omd...
"my bad guys, i'm back." nagi grunted after unmuting. nagi had a little bit of struggle seeing the PC screen with his gorgeous partner's warm n tight walls clenching against his shaft. let's just say, nagi wasn't the best player after LOL.
— ©isaisliterallyhim, 2025
tags! : @twijaxx ♡, @kyvkc
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a/n : errr... idk man i came back from training w my corps i j wrote this and threw it .. kinda late night post so uhwhhdaj sorry for the unreadabler englush i tried ok ygs i j went thru a breakup pls give me credit for trying. nyways, nagi ohf wakkk hes so hot omg.. i need that 190 cm man in me omgmgmjddkkwjd anyhow i hope ygs enjoyed hehe
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anigym6 · 3 days ago
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While so much here covers actual history and is definitely worth the read, I want to emphasis one point in particular..
Imagining and/writing a scene, no matter what it involves, does not equal reality. Fantasy does not equal reality.
This is actually something I've had to confront in my own therapy recently. I was wrecked with guilt and shame over the things that turn me on, confused by content that I've read and listened to that is morally disgusting and fucked up if it happened in real life, and actually doesn't speak to my values whatsoever. I didn't understand WHY I found what I found titillating, and was going crazy over it.
My therapist cut through all my anxiety and worry and disgust in one session by breaking it down like so...
"You read stories and play games about about heroes fighting big evil monsters right? Do you sometimes imagine yourself in those scenes?"
"Yes, I mean there's a power fantasy there..."
"Would you actually want to wage a war against dark dragons and whatnot?"
"WHAT? NO! That's...."
"So why is it any different when it comes to your sexual fantasies? Fantasy does not equal reality."
And y'all... Y'ALL. This exchange shifted everything for me.
Just cause I usually over-level my video game characters and enjoy one shoting enemies on the field... does NOT mean I am a heartless murder just waiting to go on a killing spree.
Just cause I write my own OCs going through horrendous, dangerous trials, in epic fights against ancient evil... does NOT mean I want to experience anything like war and death and mortal combat.
Just cause I fantasized about a ton of immoral sexual scenarios and get off to them... does NOT mean I want them to happen to me in real life.
Reading, writing, playing... it's all fiction. It's all fantasy. It's literally the safest place you can explore messed up and morally questionable content without causing actual physical harm.
Sam and Dean having sex in a fic is not real, and it does NOT mean the author endorses incest. Kawakami coping a feel on Joker in a fanart is not real, and it does NOT mean the artist thinks teachers should be allowed to fuck their students. Midna collaring Wolf!Link in a fan video is not real, and it does NOT mean the editor is into slavery or bestiality or whatever else snap judgement you could think of.
You may dislike, despise, or be triggered by stuff like the examples I gave... but. it. is. all. fiction. You don't like it? Avoid it. Filter it. AO3 has fantastic search options to not show fics based on tags YOU tell it to not show. Take control and accountability of your own online content consumption, as the rest of us will do for ourselves.
Policing immoral acts in fantasy will not prevent nor stop immoral acts in reality, so hang up the fake badge for all of us and yourself. You are waging the wrong war in the wrong plane of existence.
Fantasy does not equal reality.
i didnt realise ao3 was started in response to lj deleting account relating to p//edophi|ia and they explicitly support the posting of such works yikes
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dollgxtz · 5 hours ago
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Hide and Surrender
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Word Count: 5.1k
Summary: A simple game of hide and seek turns way more intense than you thought it would.
“I caught my prey, it’s only fair I get to eat my catch right?”
Tags: sylus x fem!reader, cnc, cunnilingus, predator play, predator x prey, hide and seek with roleplay, restraining, chasing, slightly rough sex, creampie, unprotected sex, overstimulation, forced blowjob
AN: Another fic idea that wouldn't leave my head. Can't remember which Touring in Love chapter it was, but in it Sylus plays hide and seek with us. And I was like, yknow what would make this 100x better? Predator play :3
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"What would you like to play? I'll join you."
Those were the words that started it all.
You had half-expected Sylus to scoff at your suggestion, to find you childish for wanting to indulge in a game meant for children. But to your surprise, he agreed without hesitation, not even asking why. There was something in the way he said it, though—something that made your pulse quicken.
"You've played this before, right, Sylus?" you ask, covering your eyes with your hands to demonstrate. "You cover your eyes like this and count to ten. Then you come find me."
A moment of silence stretches between you, thick with something unspoken. Then, warm fingers wrap around your wrists, prying your hands gently away from your face. Your breath catches as you find yourself trapped beneath Sylus’ gaze—two crimson eyes watching you with something unreadable, something dangerous.
Those eyes—burning, searing, all-consuming—lock onto yours with something unreadable, something dangerous. It’s not just amusement or curiosity; it’s something deeper, something that snakes around your ribs and makes it hard to breathe. The way he looks at you is slow, patient, as if he has all the time in the world to take you apart piece by piece, as if he’s already thought of a thousand ways this game will end.
You feel your heart hammering against your ribs, loud, deafening, a traitorous thing that gives away too much.
He tilts his head slightly, as if considering something, as if studying you. The corners of his lips twitch—not quite a smile, but something just as unsettling.
"I didn’t have time or interest for such games when I was a child," he murmurs, his voice low, almost predatory. His lips curl into something between a smirk and a smile, and the way he looms over you makes you feel smaller, caged. "But for you? I’ll learn quickly, kitten."
The pet name slithers through the air, coiling around you, sinking into your skin like a brand. A shiver ripples down your spine, slow and deliberate, leaving a molten trail in its wake. Heat pools deep in your underwear, an unwelcome warmth that you fight to ignore. Your throat goes dry, and you tear your gaze away, desperate to escape the weight of his stare. But it’s too late—he’s already seen it.
A low chuckle spills from his lips, rich and smooth, yet laced with something dark. Something knowing. The sound wraps around you, thick with amusement, but there’s something beneath it, something that burrows under your skin and makes your pulse falter in a way that has nothing to do with fear. It’s dangerous—not because of what it is, but because of how your body reacts to it.
Like a predator toying with its prey.
He lingers, close enough that the heat of him prickles against your skin, close enough that you can see the glint in his half-lidded eyes. Yet, just as your breath catches in your throat, just as the tension coils so tight it threatens to snap, he takes a step back. Barely. Not enough to be safe—never enough to be safe—but just enough to keep you teetering on the edge.
His head tilts slightly, gaze lazy, his voice dipping into something slow, syrupy, dangerously smooth.
"Go on, then."
The words are soft, but there’s no playfulness in them anymore. No lighthearted teasing. Only promise. A single word, unspoken but heavy in the air between you.
"Hide."
There’s definitely no playfulness in his voice now.
Your pulse roars in your ears as adrenaline surges through your veins. Fine. You weren’t going down easy. This was just a simple game of Hide and Seek—nothing more. You force yourself to ignore the way your stomach twists, how your breath feels too fast, too shallow. You're overthinking it. Sylus loves to tease you, to get under your skin, to watch you squirm. He loves making you flustered, and you know that. But still…there's something in the way his lips curled into a smirk before he turned around to count, something in his tone when he called out, that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.
"One…two…three…"
The second his eyes leave you, you bolt. Your feet pound against the tile floor as you dash up the stairs, each step groaning under your weight. Your movements are clumsy, fueled by nothing but instinct. You wince at how loud you are, practically announcing your location, but at this point? Who cares. The only thing that matters is finding a place to hide before—
"Ten." His voice is slow, deliberate. You swear you hear amusement laced in it.
You don't stop running. You throw yourself into his room, nearly tripping over your own feet as you spin wildly, scanning the space for the perfect hiding spot. Your chest rises and falls in quick succession, air burning in your lungs. The bed? No, too obvious. Under the desk? Not enough coverage.
Then, you hear it.
"Let's see where my little kitten decided to hide."
Your blood turns to ice.
Without thinking, you dive toward the closet, yanking the door open just enough to squeeze inside before gently—so gently—pulling it shut, leaving only the smallest crack to peek through. Darkness swallows you whole, the scent of Sylus’s cologne thick in the enclosed space, invading your senses. Your back presses against the wall, every inch of you wound so tightly that your muscles ache. Your breath comes in rapid, uneven pants, and you clamp a hand over your mouth to silence yourself.
Your heart pounds violently against your ribs, so loud it feels like it’s betraying you, threatening to give you away. You try to steady it, to slow your breaths, but every little sound—the creak of a floorboard, the soft click of a door opening—sends another jolt of panic surging through you.
Then, footsteps. Slow. Measured.
Getting closer.
You hear him before you see him.
The door creaks open, a slow, deliberate sound that cuts through the silence, sending a shiver down your spine. The room seems to shrink, the air thickening as his presence fills the space. It’s not just the sound of his footsteps—it’s something deeper, something intangible, an unseen force that presses against your chest, making it harder to breathe. Your heart pounds in response, the steady thump-thump-thump filling your ears like a war drum. Even as fear coils in your stomach, there's an undeniable thrill laced within it, a rush of something you refuse to name.
Through the narrow crack in the closet door, you finally see him. Sylus moves with practiced ease, unhurried, precise, like a predator that knows its prey has nowhere to run. His crimson eyes flicker with something unreadable as they scan the room. He doesn’t fumble, doesn’t hesitate. There’s an unsettling certainty to his movements, a quiet confidence that makes your pulse quicken.
His fingers trail lazily along the back of the couch before he crouches, peering beneath it. “Not under the couch, I see,” he muses, his voice smooth, almost casual. But there’s something beneath the words, something sharp, something laced with amusement, as if he already knows exactly where you are.
"Behind the curtains, maybe?" He doesn’t sound like he’s searching. He sounds like he’s toying with you.
He straightens, then shifts his focus to the glass windows, where the heavy curtains hang still. He moves toward them, fingertips grazing the fabric before he suddenly jerks them aside. You tense instinctively, though you know you aren’t there. He pauses, as if savoring the moment, before releasing the curtain and letting it drift back into place.
Your chest rises and falls in shallow, uneven breaths. Your lungs burn with the effort of staying quiet, of keeping still.
Then he turns, and your heart stutters violently in your chest as his gaze lands on the bed. No way he doesn’t already know where you are. No way his senses are that dull. You watch, frozen in place, as he slowly kneels, resting a hand against the mattress as he leans down to inspect the space beneath the frame. He hums softly. "Hmm...not under the bed either."
The moment he stands, you know. His next stop is the wardrobe.
A faint chuckle spills from his lips, low, knowing, as he starts toward you with slow, deliberate steps. Every cell in your body screams at you to move, but you remain paralyzed, pressed against the back of the closet as if you could somehow will yourself into the shadows. You can barely hear over the deafening thud of your heartbeat.
"Y’know, kitten," he drawls, his voice a lazy, syrupy purr that drips with something thick, something dangerous, "the sooner you come out, the gentler I’ll be with you."
Your breath catches violently in your throat. His voice alone sends a jolt through you, a sharp, involuntary response that leaves you feeling raw, exposed.
Then—he stops.
He tilts his head slightly, as if considering something, before abruptly turning away. "Oh right, I almost forgot to check the living room."
This is your chance. Your only chance.
No time to think—just move!
Your body reacts before your mind catches up. With a burst of energy, you shove the closet door open and bolt. The sudden shift from stillness to motion is disorienting, but you don’t stop, don’t hesitate. Your feet slam against the floor as you propel yourself forward, the only thought in your mind being run.
You don’t dare look back.
But then—air shifts behind you.
A sharp inhale. A pivot of movement.
And then—footsteps. Fast. Closing in.
Panic surges through you, raw and electric, as you push yourself harder. Your legs burn, your lungs ache, but you don’t stop. You just have to make it downstairs. Just a little farther. Just a little—
A rush of air. A presence at your back.
And then—a hand. Wrapping around your wrist.
You scream, a sharp, startled sound that barely has time to leave your lips before Sylus yanks you back with a firm tug of your wrist. The sudden force sends you stumbling, crashing into his chest, your breath hitching as his arm snakes around your waist, keeping you locked in place. He’s warm, solid, unyielding, and far too close. His scent—something dark and intoxicating—invades your senses, making your already racing heart hammer harder.
“Found you, kitten,” he murmurs, amusement dripping from his tone. His lips curl into a smirk as he tilts his head slightly, eyes glowing with satisfaction. “I was starting to worry I lost you forever.”
The mockery in his voice is unmistakable, but inwardly, you’re grinning, nearly laughing. This was exactly what you wanted—a chase, a fight, a chance to push back. But you don’t let him see that. Instead, you put on your best scowl, defiance burning in your gaze.
"Your acting’s gotten worse," you spit, jerking against his hold. You bring your knee up sharply, aiming for his groin with all the force you can muster.
But he’s faster.
Before your knee can make contact, a thick tendril of red mist swirls around you, his Evol surging to life in an instant. The energy coils around your limbs like living chains, locking you in place just as he moves.
In the blink of an eye, he shifts, twisting effortlessly, using his grip on you to throw you onto the bed with little more than a flick of his wrist. The mattress dips beneath your weight, and before you can even think of scrambling away, he’s already on top, looming over you, his expression smug, too amused.
You lash out.
Your fist shoots toward his face, but he leans back smoothly, just enough for your knuckles to miss his jaw by mere inches. You shift, twisting your body, using the momentum to kick upward, aiming for his ribs. Again, he dodges—his body shifting effortlessly, as if he already knows exactly what you’re going to do before you do it.
“Tsk, tsk,” he hums, easily maneuvering around another wild swing from you. “You’re getting sloppy, kitten. I thought you were actually trying.”
You grit your teeth, frustration bubbling beneath your skin. You manage to free an arm from the tendrils of mist, and without hesitation, you try to land a punch to his shoulder. This time, he catches your wrist mid-air, his grip tightening just enough to still your movement.
“You bast—” You twist your hips sharply, using every ounce of strength to break free, but he barely even moves. If anything, he looks bored, like he’s humoring you.
Sylus chuckles, low and deep. “You really don’t know when to give up, do you?” His grip on your wrist shifts slightly before he suddenly pushes you down hard, making you gasp as your bodies gravity shifts, forced into submission once again.
You feel your pulse jump when his lips brush the shell of your ear, his voice dropping to something even smoother, even softer, but no less dangerous.
“And here I thought we were just playing.” His fingers tighten ever so slightly around your wrists, his body pressing just close enough to remind you how little control you actually have in this moment. “I guess it’s my turn to get serious, hm?”
Your breath catches.
Something shifts in the air.
"S-Sylus, wait—" you gasp, your words catching in your throat as the sound of fabric tearing fills the room. In one swift motion, he's ripped your shorts apart, leaving your legs exposed to the cool air, the sudden chill a stark contrast to the heat still simmering between your thighs. Your underwear is the only thing left, a flimsy barrier between his intentions and your already soaked folds.
You start to protest, a mix of shock and anticipation swirling inside you, but the words die on your lips as Sylus shushes you softly, his voice a low, calming murmur. "Shh..." he whispers, his breath warm against your skin, sending a shiver racing up your spine.
"All that fighting, and yet you're soaked down here, kitten".
With deliberate slowness, he lowers his head between your thighs, the anticipation building as his lips hover just above the thin cloth. His tongue flicks out, tracing the outline of your folds through the fabric with agonizing precision. Each stroke is slow, torturous, a teasing promise of what's to come, and your protests dissolve into soft whimpers of need.
"An orgasm or two should get rid of that feistiness," he murmurs against you, his voice a rich, dark promise that leaves you trembling with anticipation.
Sylus's fingers deftly hook into the elastic of your panties, pulling the cloth aside with a practiced ease that leaves you exposed to him, vulnerable and aching. The cool air brushes against your skin for a fleeting moment before his mouth descends, and all coherent thought shatters as his tongue finds your aching cunt.
"Ah!"
The first touch is electric, a jolt of pure pleasure that arches your back off the bed, your hips lifting to meet him with a desperate need. His tongue works with a deliberate, maddening rhythm, alternating between long, languid strokes and quick, teasing flicks that have you gasping for breath.
Your hands find their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as you hold him to you, guiding him closer even as your mind spins with the intensity of it all. He doesn't mind in the slightest, his low, satisfied hum sending vibrations through you, drawing a gasp from your lips.
"This—is c-cheating..." you manage to whine between ragged breaths, though your actions betray you as your hips move of their own accord, grinding against his mouth, seeking more of the pleasure he's so expertly giving.
“I caught my prey, it’s only fair I get to eat my catch right?” he says, before continuing his assault on your clit. His words send your head spinning and you suddenly feel like you can barely breathe.
With a renewed dedication, his tongue delving deeper, exploring every inch of you with a hunger that leaves you trembling. The world dissolves around you, leaving nothing but the exquisite sensation of his mouth on you, driving you relentlessly toward the peak of ecstasy.
The sensation of his tongue slipping inside you leaves you reeling, each thrust a masterful stroke that has you feeling drunk on the sheer ecstasy he’s delivering. It’s a skill that seems almost divine, the way he knows exactly how to unravel you, how to make you moan and whine so uncontrollably that it borders on begging.
Your body responds helplessly, hips bucking against him as your hands clutch at the sheets, trying to anchor yourself in the storm of pleasure. His tongue moves with purpose, each flick and thrust pushing you closer to that precipice, until finally, he shifts his focus, sucking on your clit with a precision that sends you spiraling over the edge.
The orgasm tears through you, leaving you breathless and shaking, your cries echoing in the room as you ride out the waves of bliss. But even as you begin to descend from the high, you’re dismayed to find that Sylus isn’t stopping, his mouth still working you with relentless dedication.
“P-please...no more...” you plead, trying to twist away, your body oversensitive and overwhelmed. But he simply adjusts his grip, his hands firm on your waist, holding you in place with an easy strength that keeps you from escaping.
“Still a little feisty, hm?” he teases, a wicked glint in his eyes as he looks up at you. “Like I thought. One more should do.” His words are a promise and a challenge, and as his mouth returns to its task, you know you’re helpless to resist the pull of his mastery, your body already surrendering to the inevitable wave building once more.
"Mgnh...ah..."
And just as promised, the fight within you starts to ebb away, like sand slipping through fingers, as Sylus's tongue continues its relentless, masterful assault. The pleasure builds higher to the point where it almost hurts, a crescendo that leaves you breathless and trembling, unable to do anything but call out his name, your voice breaking as your body jerks and shakes under his skilled touch.
"Sylus!"
The second orgasm crashes over you, pulling you under its tide, leaving you riding the waves of ecstasy until you finally collapse, utterly spent, like a boneless heap of jello. Your chest heaves with each ragged breath, tears of overstimulation gathering at the corners of your eyes, evidence of the intensity that just ripped through you.
Sylus leans back, a satisfied gleam in his eyes as he licks his lips, savoring the taste of you. He studies you with a mixture of amusement and triumph, taking in your ragdoll form sprawled before him. "Going to try and fight me again?" he teases, a smirk playing on his lips.
You manage a weak shake of your head, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your own lips, despite the exhaustion. Damn this slick bastard and his godly tongue, you think, a mixture of exasperation and admiration swirling within you.
"Good, just how I like you," he murmurs, his voice a low purr that sends a shiver through your already sensitive body. His hands move to his belt, fingers working with deliberate slowness to undo it, each click of the metal buckle a promise of what's to come. "Seems you're ready for the last phase of our game," he declares, his dark eyes locked onto yours, filled with a hunger that promises there's much more yet to be explored.
You lay there, your body still humming with the aftershocks of the intense pleasure he had delivered, your eyes heavy-lidded, your breath coming in short gasps. Sylus, ever attentive, noticed your gaze drifting downward, a mix of anticipation and desire in your eyes as you took in the hard and prominent bulge in his pants.
Your cheeks flushed as you realized the effect you had on him, his hard length straining and throbbing against the fabric of his pants, a testament to the pent-up desire that had been building throughout your little "game." He had only eaten you out and yet his cock seemed like it was about to burst and break the zipper.
Sylus finishes undoing his belt, the soft clinking of the metal a rhythmic counterpoint to your pounding heartbeat. The anticipation is electric, a live wire thrumming between you as his pants finally fall away, revealing the impressive length of him. Even after all the times you’ve had each other, his size never fails to elicit a sense of awe.
Your eyes widened as Sylus, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, moved closer, his hard length throbbing in front of your mouth. You shook your head, a silent refusal, playing hard to get, but he was having none of it. With a swift motion, he cupped your chin, tilting your head back and guiding his throbbing cock towards your mouth.
"Open up, sweetie," he whispered, his voice a low command. "Good little prey does as they're told."
Your heart raced as you felt the heat of his cock against your lips, his hands firm on your head, guiding you to take him in. You strained for control, but his grip tightened, and with a gentle yet insistent pressure, he pushed his length past your lips, filling your mouth with his hardness.
You gagged slightly, your eyes watering, but he held you firmly in place, his cock sliding deeper, his hands holding your face still, ensuring you took him all the way down your throat.
"Good girl," he moaned, his voice thick with pleasure. "Breathe through your nose, kitten."
You did as he commanded, your mouth working around his length, your tongue swirling, your throat constricting around him, the sensation of his hardness and the taste of him overwhelming your senses. He began to thrust gently, his hips moving in a slow, controlled rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth, his moans filling the room.
"That's it," he whispered, his breath ragged. "Take all of me, claim me as I'll claim you."
His words sent a thrill through you, and you redoubled your efforts, your mouth and throat working in unison, your hands gripping his thighs as he used your mouth for his pleasure. But just as you thought he would climax, he pulled out, his cock glistening with your saliva.
"Not yet," he said, his voice hoarse. "I won't miss the chance to claim my freshly caught prey with my seed."
He catches the wide look in your eyes and grins again, a wicked gleam lighting up his features as he moves closer, positioning himself between your trembling thighs. The head of his cock teases your entrance, brushing against your slick folds with a touch so light it sends a tremor of anticipation through you.
"Stay still." he murmurs, his voice a low purr that vibrates against your skin. You nod, breathless, as he begins to push forward, the slow, steady pressure parting your folds and stretching you inch by inch. The sensation is both exquisite and overwhelming, a delicious burn that leaves you gasping, feeling impossibly full as he sinks deeper inside you. You unknowingly tense up, and Sylus pauses.
Sylus's voice, low and soothing, filled the room as he slightly broke from his rough and demeaning role. His hands gently caressing your hips, his body still poised at your entrance. "Might as well relax" he whispered, his breath warm against your neck. "You have no choice but to take it anyways, kitten".
His words, spoken with tenderness and experience, were a balm to your nerves. You recognize this as his way of checking in and reminding you to relax without fully breaking the mood. He began to move with slow, gentle thrusts, his length sliding into you with deliberate slowness, allowing your body time to accommodate his size. "That's it, squeeze around me," he encouraged, his lips brushing your ear. "Feel me filling you, stretching you, making you whole."
The pain began to subside, replaced by a building pleasure as your body accepted his intrusion, the discomfort transforming into a unique blend of sensations. You moaned, a mix of relief and arousal, as he continued his slow, steady rhythm, his body moving in sync with yours, his hands guiding you through the waves of pleasure and discomfort, until the pain was a distant memory, and all that remained was the exquisite sensation of being filled by his hard length.
Your fingers curl into the bedsheets, clutching them for support as he begins to move again, each thrust firm and unrelenting, setting a rhythm that has you moaning helplessly beneath him. The friction is intoxicating, the sound of skin against skin mingling with your cries as you arch into him, your body alight with pleasure.
Sylus's breath came in short, sharp gasps as he thrust into you, his voice thick with desire. "So tight, so fucking wet," he growled, his words a testament to the pleasure you were providing. His hips moved in a relentless rhythm, his powerful strokes driving into your core with a force that left you breathless, your body trembling with each impact.
As the pleasure mounted within you, swelling like a storm threatening to break, Sylus transformed his movements into a slow, torturous dance. Each thrust was languid and deliberate, a teasing rhythm that played your body like a finely tuned instrument. You were on the brink, right at the precipice, but he held you there, tantalizingly close yet agonizingly far from the release you craved.
"Please, Sylus..." you whimpered, your voice a desperate plea, raw with need. "I need to...I need to finish..."
He leaned in, his breath a scorching whisper against your ear, his lips brushing your skin with feather-light caresses. "I'll let you cum, my love, if you tell me who won."
This bastard. Of course he wasn't going to make this easy.
The challenge in his words sent a shiver racing through you, a heady mix of excitement and frustration. You yearned for the release, but admitting his victory felt like a concession too steep. "Fuck you" you spat, your voice caught between resistance and the relentless pull of longing.
Sylus's pace slowed further, each thrust a deliberate tease, his body a contradiction of slow, sensual movements and the raw, simmering desire you could feel pulsing in every inch of him. "Mmm, not quite the answer I'm looking for. Tell me, sweetie," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck, sending tingling sensations along your skin. "Who won this little game?"
Your body trembled beneath him, caught in the crossfire of need and stubbornness. The sweet torture was a dance of agony and ecstasy, and it was almost too much to bear and you snapped. "You w-won," you finally admitted, the words spilling from your lips like a confession, tearing free as you surrendered to the pleasure he offered, your body arching toward him in a silent plea. "Please...let me cum!"
"That's my good girl," he growled, his voice a low, primal rumble that resonated through your very core. "Now, cum for me."
His pace shifted, each thrust gaining force and urgency, driving deep and hard, a relentless rhythm that pushed you over the edge. Your body convulsed around him, muscles tightening in a wave of release, the climax ripping through you with a sweet, shuddering ferocity that left you breathless and utterly spent. In that moment, the world dissolved, leaving only the blissful aftermath of his mastery, the sweet torture finally giving way to a bliss that wrapped around you like a warm, comforting embrace.
As your body shudders around him, gripping him with the aftershocks of your orgasm, Sylus's thrusts grow more frantic, driven by his own approaching climax. The room fills with the sounds of your combined moans and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin.
His movements become erratic, each thrust deeper and more urgent, as if he's chasing the very edge of his own orgasm. You can feel the heat building within him, a primal energy that seeks release, and you arch into him, encouraging him to finish inside you.
With a final, powerful thrust, Sylus groans deeply, his body tensing above you as he finds his own release. You feel the hot rush of his climax inside you, a flood of warmth that fills you completely, making you feel full. His body shudders, muscles taut, as he pours himself into you, the sensation a sweet, intimate mingling of pleasure and finality.
Sylus, his breath ragged, withdrew from your body with a slow, deliberate motion, his eyes never leaving yours, a silent understanding passing between you. He laid down beside you, his body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure, his hand gently caressing your sweat-slicked skin, his touch tender and possessive. He peppered kisses on your lips, cheek, forehead and neck before settling next to you.
Both of you lay across the bed, chests rising and falling in sync, the aftermath of your "struggle" leaving a lingering heat in the air. The sheets are a mess beneath you, tangled from the chaos of it all. Your limbs feel heavy, aching from exertion, but there’s still a stubborn pout on your lips as you turn your head to glare at Sylus.
“Not fair!” you huff, breath still uneven. “I should’ve known you’d pull your dirty tricks…You owe me a new pair of shorts, by the way.”
He merely chuckles, the sound deep and rich, and before you can react, he shifts, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you flush against his side. His warmth seeps into your skin, the steady rise and fall of his chest oddly soothing despite everything. He squeezes you playfully, pressing his face against your hair as his laughter rumbles through his body.
“I could buy you a hundred new shorts if you wanted,” he murmurs, his tone amused.
You roll your eyes, but you don’t fight his hold. Instead, you melt into him, letting your body relax as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. His scent is familiar now, something dark and warm, laced with a hint of something uniquely him. It’s comforting, even if you’d never admit it out loud.
For a moment, there’s peace. Just the steady rhythm of your breathing, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the ghost of a smirk still tugging at his lips.
Then, his voice, soft but teasing.
“I definitely wouldn't mind a second or third round if it ends like this every time. What do you say?” he says, his breath hot against your ear.
Your breath catches, and you pull back just enough to look at him, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
The way his smirk deepens tells you everything you need to know.
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thefrontmanscockwarmer · 3 days ago
Text
Enough
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Player 001 x reader [SMUT]
Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list
Brat reader, brat tamer Young il
“I fucking hate it here” you declared to the group of guys you hung with. Gi Hun looked at you, while Jung Bae voiced his agreement, Dae Ho… well, Dae Ho stuffed his face.
(Y/n), it’s honestly not as bad as it -“ young il began.
“Are you fucking stupid?” You looked at him in disbelief. His eyes widened as you spoke to him in such a disrespectful manner, “seriously, Young il? “Not as bad”?! We could’ve fucking died, last game… don’t you remember?” You tapped your temple.
“Well, we didn’t die” he said, his voice small. He didn’t know what to do; scold you for how you spoke, or kiss you for it.
“No maybe not. But seriously? What about next game, huh? What about the game after that?” You questioned him. You stood, getting in his face as he sat. “Are you dense?”
“That’s enough, (y/n)” he said calmly. He loved seeing you riled up, it excited him. You were a hot head, could be a problem, but he could handle problems quite well.
“Obviously not. Because your moronic ass thinks it’s “not as bad”” you mocked him. The other men had excused themselves, you were in the midst of an explosion and they didn’t want to get hit by the shrapnel.
“(Y/n)” he said again. “I said that’s enough.”
“You don’t understand what enough is” you replied, your voice escalating. “You seem to think that just because they feed up, and give us beds, and clothes, I’m wearing a 3 day old blood stained shirt” you tensed thinking about it.
“Enough!” he said, standing he got in your face. “You think I like being here? No. But I’m trying to make them beat of it. You think I don’t have something to go back to? I do. I have parents and a fucking brother. You think I don’t know how you fucking feel? I do. I don’t want to be in here either” he said. “But if you think for a single second I’ll sit down and let you talk to me like I’m a fucking idiot, you’re so fucking out of your mind.”
You were backed against the wall. Your lips just barely touching his. The air between you too was thick with sexual tension, as the air around you always was. You took a breath, gearing yourself up for more argument.
“Shut up” he said. “I don’t want to hear talk of it anymore” you obeyed quietly. You shrunk, the weight of his presence was heavy. You pouted and walked away, knocking his shoulder with yours. The PA system warned that you had 5 minutes before bed time. You chose to lay down as far from Young il as you could.
He looked at you, you were so mad at him. Yeah, everything was going according to plan but you were so fucking angry it turned him on.
He awaited the dead of night, when he was sure every player was asleep. He found his way to you.
“(Y/n)” he said quietly .
“Don’t fucking talk to me” you said. He smiled, his cock jumped. God how he loved a fucking challenge.
“Don’t give me attitude” he replied, moving your body to be in bed with you.
“Get out of my bed” you say. “Before I pummel your fucking face in”
“Wow, such fighting words for a princess” he answers, wrapping his arms around you.
“Young il”
“Yes, princess?”
“Get your dick off my ass” you spit. “I can feel it.”
“My god, you’re so sharp. What will make you feel better hm?” He pondered.
“Getting the fuck out of here” you answer curtly. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, the way he was diffusing you right now was intoxicating. Young il was intoxicating, he was like a drug. You loved fighting with him, always pushing buttons to get him to tower over you, just so you could weasel your way out. You knew exactly where this was going to go.
“No, you’re tense. I can feel it.” He remarked. “You’re so frustrated, aren’t you?” He coaxed. He knew he found your sweet spot as you leaned your body against him.
“Maybe.” You say, not willing to admit that you wanted him. His hand snaked down your pants, your breath getting caught in your throat. His fingers brushed your clit. “Please” you pleaded breathlessly.
“Oh? Do you want something from me?” He asked. You hummed your response. “Well, just as well, I need to know what you want, angel. I can’t read your mind”
“Touch me… please” you asked quietly. Arousal coating your voice.
“Aw, you said “please”” he chuckled. “I guess I have to give in since you’re being so sweet” he circled your clit softly with his fingers. “Such a sweet little girl” he whispered tauntingly in your ear.
“Shut up” you said. He motions stopped.
“I’m sorry, you said stop?” He asked, you groan in frustration, bucking your hips against his hand.
“No, i said “shut up”” you repeated, his hand stayed frozen in place as you moved against it, seeking friction. A wicked grin spread across his face.
“Oh, i see” he roughly inserted 2 fingers in side of you. You whimper quietly. “Is this what you wanted angel? To be wrapped around my fingers and whimpering like the little depraved girl i know you are?” You bit your tongue, any wrong words could stop this in an instance.
“Yes daddy” you breathe out heavily. He looked down on you, his cock straining in his pants.
“Can I use your pussy, please?” He asked, not really a question but more of a warning on what he’s going to do. You nodded feebly.
“I can’t hear you” he responded patiently.
“Yes. Please” With a swift, almost violent motion, he pulled out his cock and spun you around to face the wall, pressing your front against the railing surrounding your bed.
“Wait we have to be quiet” you exclaim
“Shh, no one will care. Now, bend over and present yourself to me like a good little slut." Young il replied. His hands roughly palmed your ass, spreading your cheeks wide as he aligned his rigid member with your dripping entrance once more. With a harsh thrust, he buried himself balls-deep inside you, his pubic bone grinding against your clit. “That's it, take my cock like you were made for it,"
A sinful moan slips from your lips as you take his cock gratefully
“Please Young il, use me” you begged. Young il's grip on your hips tightened as he began to piston in and out of you with brutal force, each savage thrust jolting you forward against the railing.
"You want it rough, huh? You want to be used like a cheap whore?" His words were punctuated by the lewd slap of skin on skin, the sound echoing through the quiet room. Young il reached around to fondle your breasts, pinching and tugging at your nipples as he drove into you relentlessly.
"Yeah, that's it, moan for me," he snarled, his pace increasing until the stairs creaked under the force of his thrusts.* "Let them hear what a filthy slut you are for me. Begging to be fucked, screaming my name..."
He brought his palm crashing down across your ass, the sharp sting making you yelp and arch your back into him. He repeated the blow again and again, each slap marking your ass with his possession.
“You like that, you dirty little cumslut?” He spat, he breathing ragged with lust. “You want Dady to claim every inch of you?” His fingers delved down between your thighs roughly circling your clit furiously at your clit as he continued to pound into you. The combined sensations sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, pushing you closer to the edge.
“Come on, (y/n), I can feel you tightening around me” Young il growled, his thrusts growing erratic. “Give it to me, let go and soak my cock with your juices” he begged.
“Oh, Young il, I’m going to cum.” I say as i try my best to keep quiet. My feeble attempt at not possibly drawing anymore attention to your bed. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your soft skin as he felt your inner muscle start to spasm around his cock. “That’s it, cum for Mr, (y/n). Milk my dick dry with that sweet little cunt”
His own release was imminent, the pressure building at the base of his spine. With a final and brutal thrust. Young il buried himself to the hilt inside you, his cock pulsating as he spilled his cum deep within your quivering depths.
“Fuuuck, (y/n)” he groaned. “Take it all” As the tremors of your orgasm subsided, Young il slowly withdrew from your spent body, his softening cock slipp`I``no free with a wet pop.
“Holy shit” you gasped as he collapsed beside you.
“Yeah?” He chuckled, cradling you in his arms. “I hope your attitude is gone now”
“Well, i think it’s subsided for now” i agree curling into him. Sighing with contentment. A big yawn left your tiny body.
Taglist
@christinamadsen @sebbymybaby21 @nakiio5775 @xcinnamonmalfoyx @watasinekoru @player279achlys @galaxygurlll @angelofthorr
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 day ago
Text
if you fall, i will catch you
for @steddielovemonth day 2 using Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper
rated t | 855 words | no cw | tags: high school, prom, slow dance, flirting, open ending but assumed getting together
🪩🕺💃🪩🕺💃🪩🕺💃🪩💃🕺🪩
Prom is stupid.
Steve didn’t even want to come. He didn’t have a date and nothing is more embarrassing than showing up to prom alone. Even the nerds come as a group, dancing and laughing together.
His mom made an appointment for his suit fitting and he couldn’t really explain to her that there was no need. She still thinks he and Nancy are on track to be married when Nancy graduates high school. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he’ll probably die alone.
Okay, that’s a little dramatic. He’s probably not gonna die alone.
But he may die unhappy, and that’s worse.
Most of the music hasn’t been terrible so far, at least. Only one slow song played and no one seemed interested in dancing to it.
Steve’s a fucking wallflower at his own prom. He never saw this coming.
He figures he could probably escape within the next few songs, no one would even notice his absence. He makes a mental plan to wait until one of the parent chaperones walks back to the other side of the room.
Then he’s off.
He manages to escape to the hall behind the gym, the one that leads to the auditorium and drama class, not the main building of the school. No one should be back here. It’s the perfect escape route.
“Never thought I’d see the day when King Steve is trying to escape prom,” a voice says from the end of the hall. The music from the gym is echoing in here, but the voice is much louder. It’s familiar, too. “Miss Wheeler too busy with Byers to dance?”
It’s Munson. Steve sighs.
“Why are you even here?”
“It’s my senior prom, too! Or should those of us not graduating not be allowed?” Eddie walks closer and Steve sees that he’s actually dressed up. It’s not a designer suit like he’s been forced into, but it’s nice. Eddie looks…nice.
“Wait,” Steve registers what he actually said. “Not graduating?”
“Yep. Apparently quadratic formulas are crucial to my development and I cannot enter society until I understand them.” Eddie kicks his foot across the tile, leaving a scuff mark from shoes that have probably been waxed beyond necessity. “And I guess dissecting a frog and turning in homework may have helped.”
“But aren’t you pretty smart?” Steve thought he was one of those dungeon dweebs like Dustin. Dustin’s the smartest person he knows, without a doubt, kid or not. He thought all the nerds who play that game were like that.
“Sure, I’m smart enough,” Eddie scoffs. “But I don’t play by their rules. I forget to do homework. I argue.”
“But if you know the stuff, they can’t fail you.”
“Ah, but they can. I don’t have the Harrington name to convince them to change a D to a C. It’s all good. Everyone expected it.”
Steve’s brows furrow, forehead creasing as he thinks about how many things people expected of him that won’t happen.
“Just because people expect it doesn’t mean you have to give it to them,” he says.
Eddie’s eyes widen and he seems shocked by Steve’s words. But the shock wears off quickly. Steve wonders if he imagined it.
“Right you are! Very wise words from the king,” Eddie bows dramatically.
Steve laughs.
Eddie glances up, tense until he realizes Steve’s not laughing at him, just at the entertainment. He stands straight and holds out his hand.
“I do believe such wise words should be repaid with a dance,” Eddie puts on a fake British accent, nose pointed to the sky, smirk playing on his lips.
Steve thinks this must be what it’s like to be charmed by someone.
“A dance?” Steve asks. “Here? With me?”
“It would be my honor,” Eddie loses the accent and turns his head back down so he’s looking right at Steve’s eyes. “Miss Lauper wrote this song just for us, after all.”
Steve’s confusion grows until he hears the song coming from the gym. He can only imagine how awkward it must be in the gym while some couples slow dance with chaperones watching their every breath. He reaches out and takes Eddie’s hand.
“The honor is mine, sir Munson,” Steve tries for an accent like Eddie had previously, but it falls flat.
Eddie pulls him close, but hesitates before he puts an arm around his waist. Steve feels breathless all of a sudden, like they’ve rocketed into space and he forgot one of those astronaut suits. He nods, giving permission for Eddie to take the lead.
When Eddie pulls him closer, they’re almost flush against each other.
Steve’s heart is racing.
“I didn’t know you were weird,” Eddie admits quietly. It sounds a lot like admiration. He’s swaying them back and forth gently, and Steve finds it’s easy to lose track of everything but the way Eddie’s hands rest on his body. “It’s nice to see you, Steve.”
It’s a lot more than what it sounds like.
As Cyndi Lauper plays, Steve wonders if this is how his prom was always meant to be spent: in Eddie Munson’s arms, falling.
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bunny-jpeg · 2 days ago
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eros ➵ a valentine's day collection
welcome, welcome! to celebrate the romantic season, i have compiled a bunch of request from my lovely readers using this prompt list! valentine's day is my favourite holiday and i have to spread the love!
some requests have multiple prompts while others have one! tags for the fics are on the posts itself and all fics are 18+!
i'm still accepting requests to fill it up on the lead up to valentine's day! so just give me a number (or a few) and a driver and i'll try to get it out by valentine's day! the requests close february 12th to give me enough time to get them all finished!
happy valentine's day everyone <3
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carlos sainz jr + no. 52 “you’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.” carlos sainz jr + no. 63 “wow, i didn’t realize you were that...flexible.” toto wolff + no. 37 “could he make you feel as good as i do?” fernando alonso + no. 71 “she may seem like lollipops and rainbows but i bet behind closed doors she’s latex and whips.” fernando alonso + no. 108 “god damnit, now all i can think about right now is you licking my cock like its that ice cream cone.” lando norris + no. 43 “just let me finish this/this level and i swear ill go down on you until you cum at least three times.” lewis hamilton + no. 107 “your ass is going to be seven different shades of red after that little stunt.” + no. 7 “you want me to give you your book/phone/item back? Make me.” max verstappen + no. 43 “just let me finish this/this level and i swear ill go down on you until you cum at least three times.” nico rosberg + no. 11 “i didn’t know you were so sensitive.” + no. 72 “ah, he’s playing hard-to-get. thats cute.” + no. 83 “how quickly can you cum?” daniel ricciardo + no. 2 “i’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly.” + no. 10 “we’re in public, you know.” lando norris + no. 106 “did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip? ‘cause if you did we’re having sex. right now.” lewis hamilton + no. 5 “you’re more than just a one night stand.” + no. 6 “would you just shut up and kiss me already?” daniel ricciardo + no. 18 “you’re in trouble now.” + no. 35 “bite me.” yuki tsunoda + no. 29 “if you cant sleep...then how about we have sex?” liam lawson + no. 37 “could he make you feel as good as i do?” + no. 40 “you taste like fucking candy.” zhou guanyu + no. 99 “i know they’re just stuffed animals but doesn’t it feel weird? its like they’re watching us.” jenson button + no. 42 “you make a sound and its game over.” fernando alonso + no. 105 “saddle up doll.” + more to be added
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please do not steal my fan fics! if you're inspired in anyway, feel free to borrow the inspiration! just don't lift my stories word for word!
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witherby · 7 hours ago
Note
If Punch line can trigger Jason easily what would happen is she ever met Harley?
Let's explore that!
Punchline: First Session
Masterlist is Here!
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"I need your help."
Harley perks up, gasping, and rushes over to hug Batman tightly.
"I never thought this day would come," she says, jumping up and down and clutching a gauntleted hand. "Yes!! Yes I would love to be your therapist! We have so much to work on, starting with your parents. I really think you never internalized the event and haven't given yourself any space to grieve after —"
Her hands get squeezed gently, recapturing her attention. Blue eyes meet white lenses, and she furrows her brow.
"Okay, that's fine!" She sighs. "Can't say I'm not disappointed, but if one of your kiddos is looking for help instead, I'm still more than hap—"
"Not one of mine," Batman gently interrupts. "This is a...very delicate case, Harley."
"What's delicate mean in this context, Batsy?" She asks. "Delicate like schizophrenic? Delicate like CPTSD? Delicate like one wrong word away from explodin' and killin' everybody in a mile radius?"
"Delicate," he says, "like...this might hit too close to home for you."
"Me?"
Batman nods. Harley hums, equal parts curious and cautious.
"Any good psychologist worth her salt won't let a personal connection get in the way of providin' aid," she tells him. "If the patient isn't somebody I can help myself, I'll help ya find someone who can. When can I meet 'em?"
--
Your file lies scattered across the floor of the cave. Harley stares wide-eyed at your picture while she trembles on her hands and knees. Bruce, having changed out of his suit, kneels beside her with a steadying hand on her back.
"Oh," she whispers, "Brucie, she's so small for her age. And her age!! Sh-she's..."
Harley shakes her head. Bruce continues rubbing small circles in her back. When she leans against him for support, he holds her upright.
"How'd he keep a kid hidden for eight years?" She whispers, voice thick. "I know I fucked off to go play Happy Family with Ivy, but..."
"Nobody knew," he says. "Harleen, don't play the blame game, not for this. He kept her a secret for a reason; no one was supposed to know."
Harley lifts her hands to her face, rubbing her eyes before any tears can well up and fall. She takes deep, calming breaths, gathering her focus, then carefully collects the papers and stands with his help. She draws a pad and pen out of her pocket.
"I ain't promising anything," she says, looking up at Bruce. "This is...this is a whole different ball game, 'specially with that chucklefuck as the daddy. But I'm gonna try, okay?"
He nods. "Take your time. You were the first person I thought of, but don't force this if it's too much."
Harley gently squeezes his hand in acknowledgement. She walks past him and down the hall towards the containment cells, heels clicking quietly against the floor. She dug out her old coat with the name tag pinned to it and even threw her hair back in a low braid to appear as non-threatening as possible. The closer she gets to your door, the more the wonders if you would've been more comfortable if she showed up in her combat getup and mallet.
"Miss Punchline?" She calls, stopping in front of your cell. A cursory glance of your environment tells her immediately that you're under-stimulated. She writes that down. "I'm Doctor Quinzel. Do ya mind if I come in and chat with you a while?"
You cease all movement. You'd been sitting with your back to the door, gently stroking the head of the teddy bear Alfred gave you while muttering Mistress Mary's nursery rhyme, but when you hear her, you practically turn into a statue. Unless she actively stares at your back, Harley can't even see you draw breath.
"Miss Punchline?" She repeats calmly. "I won't come in if you don't want, but I'd really like to talk to you."
"...Popsy talks about you, sometimes," you say. Harley can't decipher your tone, but the words make her feel cold all over. "Says he used to miss his favorite gal."
"I'm sure he's mentioned me once or twice," she says, clearing her throat. "But I'm old news. Why don't you tell me about yourself? I'm gonna punch in the door code now, okay?"
You don't move. Harley unlocks your cell and walks inside, getting a better look at how sparsely decorated it is. The bed is clearly unused and half of the activities left here would cause an ordinary child to lose interest in about an hour without company. Overall, Bruce and his family are keeping you in a dreary room. If she accomplishes nothing else today, it's a guarantee that she's gonna get you better accommodations.
Harley walks around the room until she can see you face-to-face. Once she's in your periphery, your eyes snap to her and follow her every movement like a predator. She lowers herself to the ground, taking a seat a few feet away from you.
"There you are," she says kindly. Your smile is just as placid as the one in your photo. "I like ya make-up. The swirly pattern on your cheeks is very cute."
You don't respond, though your smile widens briefly. Highly receptive to praise. Your eyes don't leave hers, scanning, assessing, calculating. Harley doesn't feel like you're about to attack her, but you're clearly juggling something around in your mind.
"Bet you're thinking about mine," she continues. "Normally I like puttin' on the face paint, but sometimes my pores gotta breathe, you know? Well — the pores I got left." She glances down at her hands, paper white like the rest of her body from her dip in a vat of acid. With relief, Harley notes that your unpainted skin is a healthy color. Even though the bar's lower than Hell, it's nice to know that at least the Joker didn't immediately treat you to a dunk of your own.
"Punchline, I'm gonna be frank with you," she says.
"Nice to meetcha, Frank," you chirp, grinning mischievously. Harley lifts a brow.
"That was funny," she praises. "I know your, eh, Popsy, he places a lot of value on bein' funny. Used to say nothin' was worth the effort if it didn't amuse him at the end of the day. I'm sure you know that already."
"A giggle a day keeps the boredom away!" You say, pitch and cadence matching that of your father's. Harley knows that the grip on her pen is too tight. She breathes deep and forces herself to relax. "Ohh, hit a nerve, Frank?"
"I'm doin' just fine," she says. "What's boredom look like for you and Popsy?"
You separate your hands, fingers splayed wide, and make explosion noises.
"Do you get caught up in that explosion?"
Your smile doesn't change but your eyes get sharp. Harley makes a note.
"It's hard keepin' him entertained all day, every day," she says. "I would know. But I'm gonna tell ya somethin' your popsy probably never has."
Harley scoots a tad closer to you, reaching her hand out and gently taking one of yours. She can feel every bone in your hand and has to utilize all of her training to school her expression.
"It's not your job to make yer popsy happy. In fact, it's not your job to make any adult happy. Grown-ups shouldn't rely on their children for emotional regulation."
"Couldn't rely on you, either, could be?" You snicker. "Since you ran away."
"I left him because he was treatin' me like dirt," Harley says, a little more firm than necessary. "He's real good at drawin' you in, Punchline. Shows you an ounce of praise that makes you feel invincible, makes you wanna do anything he asks to get more of it."
Harley lets go of your hand to tuck a lock of emerald green hair behind your right ear, brushing gently against the shell. The edges are distorted, flatter than your left.
"He's also real good at draggin' you through the mud, makin' you feel like everything's your fault. Like you got no choice but to make it up t'him. Ya never wanna get on his bad side cause he really makes you feel it."
You tilt your head away from her hand, eyes dropping back down to the teddy bear Alfred gave you. You resume petting it, slightly faster and rougher than before. Harley makes a note.
"His anger's always more powerful than his joy, Punchline," she says, "but both of them are destructive. I wanna help ya break away from his cycle."
"No thanks," you say, "if I wanted to be a washed-up, third-rate party clown, I would!"
Harley feels a wave of pity for you. It's obvious you're just regurgitating your father's words back at her, and she's not surprised. Change doesn't happen overnight, especially not for you.
There's so much work to do, but Harley's not afraid. You may look and behave similarly to the Joker, but you're young and still impressionable and already starting to pull away from him without even realizing it.
"I can tell yer getting upset, and that's the last thing I want," she says, climbing to her feet, "so I think this is a good stopping point for today. But I'd really like to see you again. Would you be alright with that?"
You blow a raspberry at her, then cackle. Harley exhales sharply through her nose, giving you a fond smile, and pats your head as she steps past you and opens the cell door.
She can do this. She will do this. For you.
But, first thing's first.
"Brucie, you're kidding me with the furnishings! How's the richest man on the planet gonna put a kid in such a shitty room!? Don't look at me like that, mister. You brought me in t'do a job and I'm gonna do it right!!"
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yapperblog · 1 day ago
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Tags: smut, fingering, unprotected piv, kinda mean Joost.
Explicit RPF below, don't interact if you are not comfortable with that; +18
You walk down a busy street, the path is familiar to you – it leads to the Internet Cafe, where you go to do your personal admin tasks and unwind playing games after a stressful day at work. It is already dark outside, but the sound of rain splattering onto your umbrella and lights of the nearby shops shining from the windows as you walk past are keeping you company.
As you reach your destination, you notice a printed note on the door "Today we are closing for maintenance at 10pm. Come back tomorrow for usual working hours." You sigh, as you usually prefer to stay for longer, the whole point of it being open 24/7.
Familiar clacking of the keyboard, murmur of conversations and laughter of groups of people engaged in a computer game greets you as you walk in. You put away your umbrella and head to the administrator's desk. Your heart starts pounding faster, as it does every time you see him. Joost, who works at the cafe, is sitting at his desk, a usual scowl on his face and a cigarette hanging from his lips, even though there is a No smoking sign. He is the sole reason this place is running as smoothly as it does, he keeps every customer at check. From the first time you came here, you could tell everyone is scared of him due to his mean attitude, but it thrills you – the smudged eyeliner look he has, his style, how he towers over everyone, it all excites you. You haven't talked to him much, he keeps it pretty short with everyone, an uninterested look on his face, so getting a few words from him always seems like a win.
You unbutton your jacket and fix your skirt, which you wore just for him – today it is even shorter than usual. He doesn't talk much, but you can feel his eyes on you, when you wear those skirts. How he rolls his eyes, when you bat your eyes at him asking for help on the computer, even though you know how to fix it yourself, he is annoyed, but never denies your ask for help. It excites you knowing you have some effect on him.
"Hi, 2 hours please." you say as you reach his desk, sliding the exact amount of cash for 2 hours on the computer and internet.
"We close at 10 today." he doesn't look up, takes your money.
"I saw the note." you say and before he can point at what computer is free, you chime in. "I was thinking...do you need any help?"
He stops typing, stares at the screen and then looks up at you. You smile cheerily, "I can help with the maintenance, whatever that is, or I can vacuum. It will be faster together." yet his facial expression doesn't change from the usual bored scowl.
"We are fine." he says and turns back to the computer.
"5th computer is yours for 2 hours" he points at the direction of the desk.
You turn around to walk towards it, not entirely surprised by his answer, but it was worth a try. You say hi to other usual customers you've become friends with. As you take a seat, you look behind your shoulder, catching Joost staring at the exposed skin provided by your short skirt. You can't help but clench your thighs together, hoping he notices how a simple glance from him arouses you, wishing it was him touching you directly.
2 hours go by fast. You throw your head back laughing at something a guy next to you said. He is funny, and has been a good company, you put your hand on his thigh, not meaning anything by it, other than trying to catch yourself as you laugh again leaning forward. On accident your eyes meet Joost, who is watching your hand on the guy's thigh – his scowl angrier than usual, the cigarette letting out smoke as it hangs from his lips.
"It's 10pm. Everyone – out." Joost stands up to announce and walks towards the desks with a trash bag to collect any junk left by the customers.
You start to pack your things, when you feel a hand on your upper arm. It's a guy you met earlier, "I was thinking, maybe you want to grab a drink with me? There is a good bar nearby. If you are not busy."
You are about to reply, when you hear a familiar deep voice coming from behind you. "She is helping here today."
You turn to face Joost. "I thought you said-"
"Yeah. Change of plans. Are you staying or no?"
You look at the guy, who is still waiting for your answer. "Sorry, I can't today."
The last customer leaves – it's just you and Joost now. You stand awkwardly, not really having expected your evening to turn out this way.
"Grab the trash bag, throw out anything that's not supposed to be on the desks. And wipe them down later, cleaning wipes are next to the printer. I will vacuum. The guys should come soon to update the computers." you just stare at him, this must be the most you've heard him talk.
"What?" he asks with raised eyebrows after you don't reply.
"Nothing." you giggle and grab the trash bag. This should be fun.
It is not a big space, so you keep bumping into each other, as he vacuums under the desks, you mutter little sorries, but he keeps at task, seemingly in his own world. His presence in the same room feels electric, now that everyone else is gone, you want his attention more than ever. You bend down and reach forward on the desk as if to pick up the trash at the back of it, your skirt bunching up higher revealing even more skin. You know he notices it, you don't even have to look back to feel his eyes on you. Even a little brush of his arm next to you makes your breath hitch, you wonder if he can tell. Was it jealousy that made him change his mind and let you stay? You want to talk to him, but the constant noise of the vacuum cleaner makes it impossible.
The next time, you intentionally pick a desk to clean right where he is vacuuming. You lean against it and your ass brushes against his hip. He doesn't move away, you wiggle your hips slightly. The noise suddenly stops.
"What are you doing?" he asks. Only the buzz of computers running and your both heavy breathing can be heard in the room. You haven't noticed how worked up he has gotten you just by being close, but seeing how his own chest is rising and falling you can guess it had the same effect on him.
"What do you mean?" you are still in the same position, and he also hasn't moved. He looks down at where your ass meets his hip. The cool metal clasp of his pants feels nice on your skin. You play coy and it thrills you what he will do about it. "I am cleaning the desks as you told me to, am I not?"
He groans and the sound of it makes you grin.
"Well, I think you missed a spot." his voice is lower than usual.
"Huh? Where?"
"Right there." he points at the suspicious stain at the back of the desk. You lean in to reach it, when you feel him move behind you. A pair of warm hands holding your waist, it makes you stop in your tracks, suddenly hot all over.
"Why did you stop? Should I help you?" his crotch is pressed behind you.
"I don't think I see it. I do need some help."
His palm slides from your waist up to your shoulder, down your arm, as he reaches your hand, holding it gently, his chest now pressed against your back. Your heart is threatening to jump out of your throat. The weight of his body on you, the smell of his cologne and cigarettes he smokes makes your head spin. You can't help but arch your back, a quiet moan slipping past your lips.
You hear him huff next to your ear. "Such a pretty girl. Coming here flaunting in your tiny skirts." he speaks quietly and a chill runs down your spine.
"Always the loudest laugh in the room." he continues and moves your hand to wipe down the stain, holding it firmly in his own. "But I can't even bring myself to say anything, because I love the sound of it." he admits. "Don't think I don't notice you."
"Oh, I know you notice." you try to calm your breathing, but fail miserably, it comes out more as a pathetic whimper. He chuckles at how fast he has gotten you wrapped around his finger.
"So you wear it just for me?" he continues moving your hand, his lips ghosting over your neck. "Not these other guys?"
"Only you. I don't need anyone else." you try to turn your head to look at him, but he straightens up and holds the back of your neck.
"Fuck." he groans, you can feel he is getting hard, the rough material of his jeans still pressed against you. You want him to know how wet he got you. "What should I do with you?"
His hand starts trailing from waist down to your thigh, when you hear the door open. He quickly takes a step back from you, turning away. You also stand up from the desk, fixing your hair.
"Hi. We are here for the computer updates?" one of the men says.
Joost goes up to greet them and show around. "Continue cleaning." he calls out to you, when walking past.
After awhile you start to get bored, now that you are not alone, Joost has gone back to ignoring you. The lack of his hands on you makes you feel so lonely, you can still remember the weight and warmth of him pressing you onto the desk, and it is still not enough. He is sitting at his desk, lighting up another cigarette, you watch him flick a lighter, taking a few deep drags filling his lungs with smoke.
You walk towards him. "Is there anything else I can help with?"
He looks around the room, "Honestly.. no. You can go home, you know." there is a hint in his voice that shows he feels bad for keeping you here waiting around for whatever reason. You must have better ways of spending the night rather than this dirty old place.
"I can stay." you reassure him. "I want to help you finish your shift." you trace a nail down his bicep. He looks at your hand, then back up at your face. After his confession of loving the sound of your laugh and calling you a pretty girl you became bolder. His eyes shift to the men still working on the computers, "How long will this take?" he calls out to them.
They shrug, looking at each other. "Like another.. hour or so." one of them replies. Your head drops in defeat, why is it taking so long.
"Sure you don't want to go home?" Joost asks you again.
"I'm sure."
"To help me finish the shift you said?" he laughs. And it makes you stop in your tracks. This is the first time you heard him laugh, what a beautiful sound. You need more of it.
"You are doing it again." he says, his attention back to the computer.
"Doing what?"
"Staring at me silently."
"I am fascinated by you." you want to smooth down the messy strands of hair sticking out in the back of his head. But restrict yourself not to push your luck too much.
"You are so weird." he says putting out his cigarette in an ashtray. "If you need something to do, here take the pencils, sharpen them." You sigh and take the pencils and the sharpener.
You are sitting at the opposite side of where the two men are busy working on computers, their chatter can be heard in the room. You have the perfect vision of Joost, from where you sit facing him, conveniently hidden from anyone else's eyes. He keeps checking on you, humming a melody while sharpening the pencils, as if it is the most interesting task in the world. He seems to have gotten back to his previous uninterested demeanour or just tries to act this way around others. You wave your fingers at him and shoot a smile. He shakes his head at you and is about to turn back to the computer, when you uncross your legs, slowly pushing them apart just for his viewing pleasure, you trace a pencil from your upper thigh closer to your skirt, raising it higher and higher, revealing the side of your panties. You look into his eyes, the bright blue irises almost invisible at this point, how aroused he is.
"We are done." the man stands up and starts to pack up their bags. Joost all but jumps out of his seat. "Thank you guys." and starts to walk them out of the door.
The door closes, the silence surrounding you both again. The anticipation is killing you, you tentatively stand up and head in his direction.
"I sharpened the pencils." you say showing him the sharp ends.
"Good." he takes the pencils, placing them on a nearby desk.
His back is turned to you, you take an opportunity to glide your hands along his back muscles. He doesn't scold you, or move away, so you continue working your hands up to his shoulders, down his arms. "You seem so tense."
You don't have time to react, he moves so quick pinning you to a desk behind you. The backs of your legs pressed against it, he is mere inches away from you, holding both your wrists in one hand. Joost leans his face down toward yours, his hand sliding down to your neck as he rests it there. His eyes dart between your soft lips and eyes.
"You really wanna get fucked here? Want me to pause my work for a needy slut?" He growls lowly, keeping a firm grip on your neck as he brings his face close to yours, his other hand holding your waist. The sudden change makes your head spin as you smile and look up at him through your lashes. You are finally getting exactly what you wanted. "Yes, please." your smile grows with your arousal as you keep your lidded eyes on his handsome face, plastered with frustration.
You wait for his next move, smiling innocently at him, even though there is not a single innocent thought in your head right now. "I want you, Joost." you say into his ear. He leans into your neck, his lips and moustache ghosting over the sensitive skin. You think he might kiss you, but he licks a stripe on your neck, it makes you moan louder than you anticipated and suddenly he turns you around. His hand pressing down on the back of your neck pushing you into the desk.
"I can give you what you want." he presses his crotch against you. It makes you gasp, you can feel he is big, it excites you to no end, just like the sound of the metal clacking, in the peripheral of your position you can see him undoing his belt and pushing his pants down just enough to free his erection. You were right, he is big – it will be a stretch, but so pleasurable, you are ready for anything he will give you. He wraps his hand around his dick, the tip already dripping pre-cum.
"You want this as bad as I do, don't you?" you ask, wiggling your ass at him.
He just groans in response, still working on his dick, looking down at you. In a swift motion, he flips your skirt up, exposing your panties to him.
"If you wanna pretend you're all angry with me you can, I always liked watching you get angry at other customers." you tease, feeling a new wave of arousal wash over you when you feel his eyes on you.
"Hurry up." you press yourself further into him.
He takes a hold of your hips, taking off your panties in a swift motion and slides his thumb down to your clit, rubbing slow teasing circles over it, effectively shutting you up. The hand he has on the back of your neck tightens against you as he watches your mouth open in a small o, your eyes rolling back in your head. "So fucking easy, I touch you a little and you behave," Joost says, his cock dripping pre-cum against your ass as he throbs watching your face contort from pleasure.
"I am not easy." you try to argue.
"No?" he speeds up his movements on your clit, the wet sound filling the room. "Look at you. I have barely touched you and you are already dripping wet." his fingers move to your hole, he dips one finger in, soon after the second finger follows.
You try to press your thighs together as he continues sliding his fingers in and out of you, but Joost is having none of that. His large thigh knocks your knees apart, keeping you spread open for him so he has full access to your pussy.
"M-mmmm" You moan, your ass wiggling back against him as you try to escape the intense pleasure he was giving you – or were you trying to get more? You are so lost in pleasure. "I want you inside. Put it in." you try to meet his eyes from your position. "Please."
He looks down at you, slowing down his movements, but not completely. "I don't have any condoms on me, sweetheart."
"That's okay. You can do it raw. I don't mind." you plead. "I am on the pill."
He grew even harder than before, your teary eyes and needy voice fogging his judgement. He spends a few more moments stretching you out on his fingers, listening to your moans, what makes you louder, making sure you are ready for him.
You whined at the loss of his fingers, but the feeling was soon replaced by the fat head of his cock. You reach your hand behind you, wrapping your hand around his cock. "Fuck." he exhales loudly as you move your hand from his head along the shaft. You rub the head up and down your folds, mixing his precum with your juices, making sure his cock was nice and wet before he fucked you. But also to hear more of his sounds, you could get drunk on every sound that leaves his mouth.
"Enough, baby. Or the fun will end far too soon for my liking." he moves your hand away.
"I am glad you are having fun, baby." you tease him at the use of a petname already. You wiggle your hips and hear a groan from him. "And you say I'm easy."
The smile from your lips changes into a moan, as you feel him catching his head against your entrance and pressing against it teasingly before he pulles back, making you whine. "Please."
"Please what?" he asks. You didn't miss the teasing tone in his voice, it was his turn to play with you now. "I need you inside. Please" you begged, pouting against his desk as you tried to look back at him, even though it is hard from your position. Joost releases the back of your neck to grab both of your wrists in one large hand, keeping them restrained against your lower back, as he slides his dick slowly into you. The stretch is there, but it is quickly replaced by pleasure when he starts to move dragging against your walls, there is no resistance at how wet you are.
He speeds up the pace of his hips against you, the slapping echoing louder in the room as he abuses your g-spot with his dick. "What's wrong? Too much?" Joost asks, faux sympathy laced in his voice. You can only moan in response. "That's too bad. You wanted this, so you're going to fucking take it." He groans.
He reaches down to rub your clit, feeling you clench around him. Your legs are shaking from the intense pleasure flooding your body. Joost's balls slapping harshly against your clit, making your brain turn to mush as he fucks you so deep.
He is getting embarrassingly close to his release, he hasn't gotten laid in awhile and you are making it so hard for him to last. He leans forward, his chest flush against your back as he crushes you with his weight, his hand restraining your wrists being crushed between your bodies, his mouth right against your ear as he says, "So fucking good for me."
Your eyes roll back in your head each time his fat tip brushes against your sweet spot deep inside you. "Would you have said yes to that guy asking you out?" He whispers, his deep voice in your ear sending goosebumps down your spine. His possessiveness makes you feel hot all over.
"Yes." you lie to see his reaction. "I wanted to agree."
"Oh yeah?" his thrusts get harder, both of his hand gripping your hips, moving you to meet his thrusts. "Would you let him fuck you like this?"
Your pussy squeezes tightly around his cock as he fucks you open for him. He keeps his weight against you, his balls slapping against your thighs making lewd noises to echo around the cafe. "Answer me."
"No." you confess. "I would have never gone with him. I already said I only want you."
"Good." he says and your moans increase in frequency, you are squeezing him impossibly tight. "I'm so close" you moan feeling the familiar pleasure spread in your lower stomach. His weight on you, the fact that it is a public place, empty but public nonetheless, his smell all around you, his sharp thrusts inside you make you closer to your peak by the second. "Do it. Cum all over my cock, pretty girl, c'mon." He coos into your ear, his own dick twitching inside you with his impending release as he keeps the same pace up, working you higher and higher to your orgasm.
Your eyes screw shut and your mouth falls open in a loud moan. "Yeah, that's it- oh fuck" Joost groans as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your moans sound shaky as the rest of your body jolts as it was wracked with your high.
Joost's hips still against your ass as his cock twitches inside you with every rope of cum he shoots deep inside. His balls clench with his cock as he releases inside you, groaning loudly against your ear. You whine back, keeping your thighs pressed together as he rolls his hips against you, letting your walls milk him entirely before he stops moving. "So good." Joost huffs as he comes down from his high, his body crushing yours even more as he relaxed against you from such intense orgasm.
He was still deep inside you and he could already feel how his cum was spilling out around his dick from how much he came. "It is getting hard to breathe..." you whisper against the desk, your cheek being squished into the wood by his body on you. Joost quickly stands up. "Sorry." he groans as he slowly pulls his spent cock out of you.
You hiss as he slides out of you. Your walls clenching around him in instinct, making him wince as your pussy hugs his tip before he slid it fully out of you. He reaches over your body to grab the tissues on the side of his desk, grabbing a couple as he wipes gently against your thighs. He cleans up himself and tucks back into his pants.
He helps you to your feet, you stand on shaky legs, reaching around his shoulders for support. He pulls your panties back up and fixes your skirt.
You can feel his arms wrap around your waist, helping you stand and come back to Earth. You realise you are hugging, he just came inside you, but you are melting at the simple hug.
"Thank you." you say quietly looking up at him from where your head lays on his shoulder.
"Thanking me? For what? Did I fuck you so well?" he asks, looking down at you, tucking a strand behind your ear. Something has changed in him, you can tell, he seems softer.
"For letting me stay." you say. "And yes, you did fuck well. I can still barely stand." you laugh.
He smiles at that, your words boasting his ego. "You can stay any time."
"Any time?" your voice comes out almost a squeak how excited you are.
"We are literally open 24/7." he says after a pause and laughs, you slap his chest lightly and laugh too.
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honeyedfate · 2 days ago
Text
kiss her you fool | 심재윤
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pairing. jake sim x idol!gf!reader
as if accidentally convincing both of your fans on several occasions that you two hate each other wasn’t enough, jake had to go ahead and mumble some sleepily ambiguous words on a weverse live and involve the whole internet. to salvage whatever shreds are left of the plan, you are to attend a baseball game together.
genre. fluff
a/n. the third & last part to loverboy is here!! sorry for the wait i wrote 4 different drafts until i settled on this one lol enjoy!! xx
[ › first part ] [ › second part ]
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jake is a chill guy. he’s cool-headed, efficient, steady under pressure, always on the side of healthy optimism. that’s the story he sells to others—and to himself. but deep down, he knows he might be a bit of a fraud. worse, he can feel it.
his hands are drenched in sweat as they clench and unclench inside his pockets, chasing an old gum wrapper around to distract himself. the tag of his shirt pokes at his neck, making him want to barbarically tear off his clothes in front of thousands of baseball fans.
but instead, he dutifully follows you through row upon row of seats and keeps his gaze on the back of your head.
so, yes. jake is a very chill guy.
you keep glancing back at him, the lower half of your face obscured by a black mask. still, he knows you’re flashing him reassuring smiles, and he feels bad for how nervous he is. if he’s not staring at you, his eyes are darting around, scanning his surroundings like one of the baseball players warming up in the field might suddenly climb the walls and come for him.
“i think these are it,” you say, glancing at your tickets before sliding them into your back pocket.
jake wordlessly takes the seat next to you, adjusting his cap to shield as much of his face as possible. he knows it’s futile—staying hidden is the exact opposite of why he’s here, but habits die screaming, or something like that.
his shoulders tense for a split second at the touch of your hand on his thigh, and guilt gnaws at him when you pull away almost instantly. he meets your eyes and musters a smile. not that you can see it beneath his matching mask.
“we can leave any time,” you say in a soft tone, looking at him from under your lashes. “i don’t care what the plan is. if you’re uncomfortable, we can ditch this whole thing and get ramen at cu.”
jake’s heart swells, wanting nothing more than to do exactly that, but he knows it’s his fault you’re in this situation in the first place. well, for the most part. he can’t tell you that, though. he knows you will just dispute it until he starts believing it himself, and that would only prove to him once again that his backbone inevitably snaps in the face of a pretty girl.
no matter that it’s his pretty girl, and he’d do anything for you anyway. breaking his spine included. the fact remains—he ran his mouth on live, so now he’s got to face the consequences. 
swallowing the lump in his throat, he shakes his head and threads his fingers through yours, tucking both hands into the pocket of his jacket.
jake grins. “no, this is fun.” you send him a flat look, but he just nods towards the field. “i’ve never been to a baseball game. now we can take it off our bucket list.”
“sure,” you say, sounding wryly amused. “we don’t have a bucket list but at least now we’ve got something to cross off. i’ve also always wanted to be on the kiss cam. guess it’s our lucky day.”
“lucky us,” jake says, his lips curling as he feels your hand squeeze his. he casts a glance around, then leans forward, swiftly pulling both of your masks down with one hand. it’s a brief kiss, just a soft peck that’s a bit inconvenient since both of you are wearing hats, forcing him to tilt his head. but when he pulls back, he sees the way you’re chasing after his lips, eyes still closed, and goes just a little insane.
you look entirely too pretty to leave it at just one kiss. you deserve all the kisses in the world, actually, so he captures your lips again, tasting the cherry gloss he bought you last week because he likes it a little too much. it’s the same one you wore on your first date together.
jake’s lips brush against yours once more, deeper and a bit slower this time as if savouring the moment. you sigh into the kiss and pull back to catch your breath, your lips lingering just above his. your eyes are still closed, but jake doesn’t mind one bit, taking the moment to let his gaze wander over every single feature of yours that he knows by heart. and would you look at that? suddenly, he couldn’t care less that he’s sitting in a huge stadium.
you tear your gaze away from his lopsided grin. “let’s save some of this for later, yeah?” you say, and jake is not ashamed of the groan rumbling in the back of his throat as he hides his face in the crook of your shoulder. how else is a man supposed to act when your lips look so plumb and kissable, and your voice sounds like that? hopeless.
you’re looking at him, a smile tugging at your lips when you notice an older lady a few rows down elbowing the person next to her, gesturing not-so-subtly at the two of you. under your breath, you mumble, “the ahjummas down there are looking at us.” 
jake leans back, glancing at them from the corner of his eye before lifting a shoulder in a half-shrug. “can you blame them? we’re not exactly hard to look at.”
“your modesty astonishes me,” you say, sounding unimpressed.
jake raises an eyebrow and leans forward on his knees, a smirk tugging at his lips. “we’d make beautiful babies, and you know it.”
you snort, shaking your head. “that’s what ni-ki said this morning. something about sacrificing himself for his future nephews and nieces because at least he knows they’ll be cute. i’m still not sure what he meant by that.”
jake cocks his head and pokes your side when you playfully mirror him. “he came down this morning when yuki was talking to us in the kitchen,” jake says, shifting in his seat.
he grimaces as he remembers the conversation with jungwon who was basically a zombie at that hour after having to stay up late as a consequence of jake’s faux pas on weverse. “ni-ki said he was going to take care of this for us. i didn’t know what he meant at first, but then sunghoon sent me a screenshot of what ni-ki posted on weverse. it was a selfie of him, facing the other way so his left side was showing.”
“wait, seriously?” your eyebrows shoot up, and jake nods, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
“yep. he called himself a martyr in the group chat. said he was taking one for the team.”
you gasp dramatically, holding a hand to your chest. “a martyr? for us? what’s next, a shrine in the dorm?”
jake laughs, clearly entertained by your idea. “i mean, we could probably arrange one. heeseung’s room is big enough to fit ten.”
you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “that’s… actually true. but did it work?”
jake bites his lip, glancing at his phone. “i haven’t checked yet, but sunoo sent me a text earlier. apparently, engenes are seeing right through it.”
“what are they saying?” you ask, genuinely curious.
“they’re saying belift gave up ni-ki for damage control,” jake chuckles.
before you can say anything in response, your phone vibrates, the sudden buzz pulling your attention away. you reach for it, ignoring jake’s whiny protests as you untangle your hand from his. “hello?”
jake pouts and scoots closer, pressing his ear against the backside of your phone. you roll your eyes and click the side button to turn the volume up, letting him hear the voice on the other end, your manager’s. “…are you in your seats?”
you hum and nod, nearly knocking jake’s hat off with the movement. “yea, we’re here. we got here a bit early, so there are still a few empty seats. but the game should be starting soon. what’s up? did something happen?”
“well,” your manager says, her tone uncertain, and jake’s heart drops. “about half an hour ago, minjun posted the dance challenge you and jake filmed for their tiktok. it…er, seemed to stir up a bit more of a reaction than we expected…again.”
you exchange a confused glance with jake. nothing about the videos seemed off—he’d double-checked, paranoid he might’ve accidentally done something ridiculous again, like giving you a lap dance or declaring his undying love on camera.
filming those two dance challenges had already been an ordeal. the pr team was relentless, adamant on pushing you and jake to drop as many microscopic hints as possible to suggest something was going on between you two, but it was so painfully awkward that you ended up with enough unusable footage to last a month.
jake had been a giggling mess the entire time, finding it all so silly, like he was on some overly scripted dating show. you, on the other hand, couldn’t stop tripping over your own feet, bumping into him more times than he could count. at least you managed to do it on beat.
regardless, even though filming the final video had been a struggle, it was ready to go. jake had made sure of that.
it was just another dance challenge, he thinks to himself, trying to push aside the unease creeping up. whatever’s going on now, it’s gotta be grey sweater guy’s fault.
“what do you mean?” your voice brings him back, your curiosity clear. “we didn’t do anything…right?”
“well,” your manager says again, clearing her throat. “since we couldn’t really get any dance footage of you acting like, you know, an actual couple—” 
jake snorts.
“—minjun ended up keeping the last few seconds of a video when he posted it to the enhypen tiktok page. he didn’t give us a heads-up before doing it.”
your eyes widen as you send a quick look in jake’s way. “is he going to get in trouble?” you say into the phone, and jake pulls a funny face. is that what he was supposed to feel? concern? apparently, he likes the guy even less than he thought.
“that’s the thing,” your manager goes on. “everyone seems to like it?” she sounds quite surprised about it herself, and jake has to strain his neck to make sure he heard correctly. 
“everyone?” he echoes in disbelief, and you nudge him when he inches impossibly closer, practically climbing onto your lap.
“what do you mean everyone?” you ask as jake moves back a little. “what were we doing?”
your manager lets out a long sigh, as if hoping you wouldn’t ask. “after you left for the game, minju and some of the others decided to go through the videos again, hoping to find something a bit more exciting. they ended up finding one where you two were dancing really well—everything was clean, no one was falling or laughing, and the chemistry wasn’t too forced.”
she pauses, and you can hear her shifting slightly. “but then, right at the end, you trip over your feet and… well, you kind of just leave the frame.”
jake frowns, meeting your puzzled gaze. you had filmed so many different versions, they have all blended into a nightmarish concoction of blurred memories, making it hard to recall which one she means. “i leave the frame and then what?”
the silence stretches on for a beat, and jake feels a spark of irritation bubbling up at the theatrics. horrified, he starts to wonder if he’s accidentally flashed the whole world and didn’t even realise.
“the entire thing only lasts two seconds, but you stumble, jake rushes after you, and you both end up out of frame—but we can still see part of it because of the mirrors. jake has his arms around you as you both tumble to the floor, laughing.” she says in a matter-of-fact tone, then adds quietly, “minjun removed the music at the end, so you can hear the laughter.”
jake doesn’t even know how to respond. sure, the company can post whatever they want of him, but they usually don’t. there’s an unspoken rule of decency and respect among the team, and he’s at least asked before anything goes up. this? this is just wrong.
he doesn’t realise that you’re voicing his exact thoughts into the phone until a loud cheer ripples through the crowd. a woman he’s seen on tv before appears on the big screen over the baseball field. she’s offering some welcoming words, and jake figures the match must be starting soon.
“—he’s lucky people are receiving it well, but he has to know that it’s not okay to just post that without our knowledge or consent,” you say, your voice tinged with more disappointment than frustration.
“i know, trust me. yuki and i made sure any future genius moves from him go through us—and you two—first. i know you're not mad, just…" she sighs, papers shuffling. “look, almost 80% of the comments are positive, calling you a cute, good-looking couple and all that. the rest are either in denial or upset, but it doesn’t matter. more people are for it than against it, so just enjoy the game. you don’t have to go through with what we discussed if you don’t want to. things are looking good, y/n.”
jake doesn’t pay attention to the rest of the conversation, having heard enough. he leans back, resting a hand on the back of your seat and absentmindedly draws circles onto your skin.
you mutter something into the phone and end the call, melting into jake’s side with a sigh. he coos, pulling you closer, and presses a kiss to the top of your hat while humming. “you know what?” he says quietly.
“what?” your voice is muffled as you rub a hand over your face, looking up at him.
he grins. "at least they’re also calling us a cute and good-looking couple. ni-ki will be a proud uncle to our gorgeous kids.”
you can’t help but laugh, hiding your face in his chest and, at once, jake finds it hard to be bothered by anything happening on the internet or even outside this stadium. he has you in his arms and the rest of the afternoon off to enjoy a baseball game. what concerns could he possibly have?
soon after, the players file out onto the field, and the match begins. both of you end up having a lot more fun than expected, and jake briefly leaves to go grab some food and drinks.
he’s walking back up the stairs, looking for you and not even avoiding eye contact with people around like he did before. right now, he’s just a guy hugging two cups of soda and a pile of snacks to his chest, wandering the rows in search of his girlfriend. 
he must look as lost as he feels because someone suddenly taps him on the arm. looking down, he sees the two older women from before. they’re grinning up at him, and jake hesitantly returns the smile, realising a moment too late that they can’t see it due to his mask. 
“you’re three rows up, darling,” the woman on the left with the big, blue-framed glasses says, nodding over her shoulder and vaguely gesturing to where you’re sitting. his face lights up when your eyes meet, and you raise a hand to wave at him. he thanks them and makes to walk up the stairs when she stops him, placing a hand on his arm.
a small voice in the back of his head screams ‘stranger danger’ in capital letters at him, but he brushes it aside, trying to figure out what she could possibly want and whether that might be his kidney or one of the napkins he’s holding.
“you have a very beautiful girlfriend,” she says in that ambiguous, sage voice that the elderly have, and he’s caught off guard. not due to the voice, of course, but the mention of you. jake blinks, processing her words before nodding slowly.
“she’s not, erm, i mean, of course, she’s—”
the woman in the green cardigan laughs delightfully, eyes twinkling with amusement. “sweetie, breathe. we’re not the cia. you can talk about your girlfriend. in fact, you should. it keeps you both young.”
jake is too stunned to muster a reply. he eyes them carefully, wondering if this is a weird interaction or if he’s just never talked about you to anyone before. a second later, he realises—he really hasn’t. not to a stranger, not to anyone.
the thought repeats in his head, looping like a broken record. he’s never talked about you to anyone. and yet, it feels like praises about you live right on the tip of his tongue, like they’ve always been there, just waiting for an opening. so he tries it out. “her heart is even more beautiful,” he says shyly, testing the words, rolling them over like he’s trying to get a feel for them. “which is near impossible but she somehow makes it work.”
it feels weird, to be honest. like he’s revealing a well-buried national secret and endangering the country. the two women share a meaningful glance that doesn’t go unnoticed by him. his stomach twists. jake’s gaze flickers toward you, and an overwhelming wave of emotions crashes over him.
it’s more obvious now than ever. jake is stupidly in love with you. so much so that he has made an utter fool of himself time and time again in the name of keeping you a secret. like love could be something silent, something that exists in the shadows without growing restless. like it wouldn’t claw at the walls of his chest, begging to be let out.
he truly did think loving you quietly would make him feel better about everything. safer. less exposed. but now, faced with the weight of his own realisation, he sees how wrong he’d been. what was the point of all that caution if it only made him feel like this—like he’s been holding his breath for months, maybe even years?
now, he’s given the chance to do the complete opposite. and for the first time, he wants to take it. he wants to love you loudly, unapologetically. because it’s what you deserve. because it’s what he wants.
he exhales, glancing back at you. you’re focused on your phone, scrolling through something with a tiny crease between your brows. probably checking the responses to the tiktok, probably making sure minjun hasn’t ruined both your careers. always so careful, so thoughtful.
“she’s… incredible,” he says, the words tumbling out before he can second-guess them. but they feel right, sitting on his tongue like they belong there. he doesn’t need to say more than that. doesn’t need to explain how you always make people feel comfortable, how you remember the smallest details about everyone you meet, how you laugh with your whole body like it’s the first time you’ve ever found something funny.
the women smile knowingly, and jake lets out a soft breath, something inside him settling.
“i’m very lucky.”
“she’s lucky, too,” the green cardigan woman says, her voice warm. “treat each other well, yes? a love like yours is rare. don’t do it the dishonour of keeping it in the shadows.”
jake lets out a small, breathy laugh, caught somewhere between flustered and amused. he ducks his head, rubbing the back of his neck, then nods—not just out of politeness, but because he hears her. really hears her.
the woman gives his arm a gentle pat before turning back to her friend, their conversation shifting elsewhere. jake exhales, then moves, crossing the distance between you in quick strides, taking the steps two at a time.
“should i be jealous?” you greet him with a teasing smile, taking the snacks from his arms.
he snorts. “they were just being nice. said you’re beautiful, by the way, and something about…” he hesitates, eyes flicking toward the field. “well, just… nice things.”
you watch him for a second, noticing the shift in his expression. but you don’t press, just shrugging it off and pulling down one side of your mask to take a bite of your corndog. your gaze drifts back to the cheer team as they work the crowd, the energy in the stadium picking up.
jake tries to focus, eyes darting to the blur of blue as cheerleaders and fans break into coordinated moves. but his mind keeps wandering back to what he’d just been told. normally, he’s not one to easily take anyone’s word as gospel, but this time, he can’t help it. it’s not just that he agrees—it’s the fact that he’s surprised by how much he does.
didn’t he spend all week trying to wrestle with this? he doesn’t want to put his relationship on display for everyone to pick apart—that’s the last thing he wants. but now, sitting here with you by his side in jamsil baseball stadium, he can’t shake the feeling that it doesn’t matter.
he glances at you, completely unaware of his thoughts, and all he sees is his person. someone he never doubts. someone who loves him, and someone he loves in return. does anything else even matter?
occupied by his thoughts, jake doesn’t realise what’s happening around him until the clapping starts. he blinks, surprised, as you turn to face him, bright-eyed and joining in with the crowd. he looks around, confused for a moment, until his gaze lands on the jumbotron. instead of the game, it now shows a couple in the stands, both wearing the rival team’s merch. the man leans in and gives the woman a sweet kiss on the lips. her face turns red, and the crowd erupts in cheers.
it’s the kiss cam, jake realises, and reflexively claps with everyone else as the woman shyly hides her face behind his shoulder. the excitement echoes through the stadium, the chant growing louder.
he can’t help but smile as he watches them, their laughter infectious. “they’re adorable,” you comment, gaze still fixed ahead, oblivious to his smile. jake’s chest tightens, but the feeling isn’t quite discomfort. more like the recognition of something he hadn’t known he’d been longing for. something he now sees clearly.
your mask is hanging off your ear as you absentmindedly sip on your drink, and jake is so glad to see your lips again. it’s like running into an old friend he’s missed. sometimes, it feels like he spends more time missing them than actually getting to kiss them.
he’s about to reply when you suddenly choke, your back straightening in surprise. out of the corner of his eye, he sees people turning their heads, and even though the music is still blasting through the speakers, he’s sure he hears gasps rippling through the crowd.
without thinking, he shifts his attention away from you and glances up at the jumbotron for confirmation—and there it is. the two of you, front and centre, framed in a pink, sparkling heart.
his eyes flick to you as you glance around, your expression a mix of confusion and discomfort. it’s strange to see you so flustered when you’re usually the calm, collected one, especially in situations like this. but here you are, shifting awkwardly under the attention.
a voice from the crowd calls out, “kiss her, you fool!” followed by the sound of cameras clicking as everyone starts pulling out their phones. more voices join in, chanting in unison, and jake can see the tension in your body. you look uncomfortable, clearly not used to this sort of attention, and it’s hard to ignore.
he feels a wave of protectiveness, wanting to ease the situation and make you feel comfortable. seeing you out of your element like this—normally the one who knows how to handle everything—hits him differently. he’s already made up his mind, though.
this whole thing had been part of the plan from the start, and he’s not going to let it stress you out any longer. he wants to kiss you, right here, right now, because it feels right. it’s not about the spectacle, it’s about showing you how much he’s proud to have you by his side.
plus, you have quite literally already told him three times how being on the kiss cam was something you’ve always wanted to do before the game had even begun.
jake huffs a quiet laugh, his body moving on its own as he shifts in his seat. his gaze locks with yours, and he can’t help but grin at the sight of your panicked smile.
“guess we’re famous now?” you quip nervously, trying to make light of the situation. jake tries hard not to laugh, but the sound of it escapes before he can stop it.
he pulls down his mask, the crowd’s excitement swelling around you both.
he leans in, lowering his voice so only you can hear him. “what do you say?” he murmurs, tilting his head slightly. “can i kiss you?”
he can see you thinking it over, your brows furrowing as nervousness peels away and you weigh your options. he already knows what you’ll say, but he still gives you the space to respond.
“we don’t have to do this, jake,” you whisper, the soft tone in your voice trying to make sure he’s comfortable too, even with thousands of eyes on you.
he smiles, the tenderness in your voice unfailingly melting him even more. “we don’t,” he agrees with a small shake of his head. “but i’ve never not wanted to kiss you, and i’m not starting now.”
your lips part slightly, eyes flickering up to his. the shift is almost imperceptible, but you feel it—his sudden insistence, the way he’s making this moment so much more than just a joke. the kiss cam, the crowd, all of it suddenly feels like less of a spectacle and more like something personal. something you didn’t expect but, deep down, have always wanted.
it’s strange, this feeling, and for a second, you almost don’t know what to do with it. the uncertainty that used to cling to you in moments like this is fading, replaced by something that feels surprisingly soft, sure. jake’s not just trying to make a spectacle of you; he’s actually trying to share this with you, to let you know that this is something he wants too.
your heart skips a beat. there’s no need for words, but you’re caught in the moment. a quiet nod is all you can muster, small but certain. “okay.”
his smile spreads before he even realises it. jake leans in, movements slow but purposeful, drawing it out just a moment longer. the kiss is tender, soft at first—he feels your breath mingle with his, the warmth of you close, the way you fit against him. it’s not rushed, not for the camera. it’s real. it’s something he’s wanted to do for so long, but this—this feels more like an act of love than just a kiss on a jumbotron.
you smile into it, and jake can’t help but grin too, the way your happiness settles deep in his chest. he knows the crowd is cheering, but all he can hear is the soft, breathy sound you make, the one that means you’re happy. the one that makes everything inside him flutter.
when he pulls away, the roar of the stadium hits him like a wave, but it feels distant, almost muted. you tuck yourself into his side, the sound of your laugh soft and light. there’s no turning back now. the world can know, and in this moment, jake couldn’t care less.
‘operation: no hate, just date’ has done its job.
he presses a quick, sneaky kiss to your temple, his grin still lingering, all warmth and love. he wraps his arm around you, pulling you just a little closer, the moment between the two of you nothing but pure joy.
alright. maybe jake is not the chill guy he thought he was. but in this moment, he doesn’t need to be.
all he’s ever wanted to be was a lover boy, and now it feels like he’s finally on the right track.
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taglist: @jakeslvt @username-111222333444555 @pjselee
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un-fwuit-un-fwog · 2 days ago
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Hello, good morning/afternoon/evening/night. I'm the anon that requested for the platonic!dad Lilia vanrouge headcanon. I've finished reading it and I would love to request for the biological one! The adopted headcanon was amazing. And I also apologize for for not putting in my request with more thought 😅.
Thanks for the ask! I can totally do that! And don't worry about it, I was hoping to get to write both anyway <3
(I don't know if I'm thinking too far into it, but I wasn't sure if you wanted pre NRC or present, so I'm going with the same as last time)
!Platonic!Dad! Lilia Vanrouge x Biological Daughter
(Kinda a second part to This in a way)
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However it came to be; a one night stand, a past lover, or some freak magic accident, you were Lilia's one and only blood relative left. His darling daughter.
Don't get me wrong, Lilia loved Silver and Malleus more than anything, but it felt different looking at you and being able to sense his fae blood running through your veins.
When you were left to the single father's care it was after he had already dealt with a newborn dragon. He believe that as you were his own flesh and blood you'd surely be easier to care for, but oh how wrong he was.
If anything, you were MORE difficult to deal with because you were his own flesh and blood.
Lilia finally got a taste of his own medicine when you started imitating his pranks (how did you even get in such a high cabinet).
At least he understands your magic and can help you figure out how to control it.
He treats you virtually the same as if you were his adopted child, just with the fact that you have his magic in mind- . . .he looked away for one second, where'd you go?
One time, Lilia left you and Silver with a pre-teen Malleus for him babysit as he had something to attend to. Silver spent the whole time sleeping whilst you spent the whole time making malleus play games with you (he didn't mind, he was just happy to have a friend). Lillia came back to see you and Malleus reenacting the war with wooden animals Baur had carved for you (maybe he told you too many stories of his glory days).
Lilia still loves doing your hair- what's that? You want to do his hair?
The other generals keep their mouths shut, but their eyes are glued to the great Lilia Vanrouge and his messy, lopsided pigtails with bright pink and blue bows on each for the entire briefing.
You escaped the cottage once when he looked away to try and get Silver to eat his food, and he had no clue where you were for almost a day. He was freaking out and about to take his magearm and go on an all-out rampage when he got a letter from the queen saying you had 'made a delightfully unexpected visit to the castle for a playdate with Malleus.'
Lilia rushed over to the castle immediately, ready to scold you, but when he got there he couldn't bring himself to. Instead, he fell to his knees crying as he watched you and Malleus sleep softly: cuddled up to each other. The queen found him in this state and simply patted him on the back before recounting how he and her daughter had once pulled a very similar stunt back in their youth. (he has her recount any and all stories of him causing trouble as a child in order to hopefully have a leg up on any stunts you pull in the future)
Right when he thinks he knows how to handle anything you throw at him, you come home with an owl bear cub in toe asking tow. You recount the story of how you found it next to its unmoving mother, and he has no choice but to let you keep it.
When you tell him you want to name the owl bear 'Bear' he tries to argue with you that it's not a very good name, but you win. Bear it is.
Anytime you and Silver go out in the woods to play he sends Bear with you just in case.
Baur gets quite the shock when he comes to pick up his grandson from the cottage only to find him riding on the back of an owl bear as it chases you and silver (you were just playing tag).
He turns to the cottage to see what Lilia was planning to do about this only to see him casually. . .barbequing (if you can even call it that) in the garden and watching you all play. Baur ends up staying longer than expected, mostly to salvage whatever slop Lilia was making for his poor kids, but also to hear Lilia's explanation as to WHY IN THE GREAT SEVENS' NAMES THERE'S AN OWL BEAR PLAYING WITH THE KIDS.
The time finally comes for Lilia to head off to NRC with Malleus, Silver, and Sebek, but this time let's say (for the sake of being different that the other fic) that you somehow end up there as well. Lilia would have liked you to be in Diasomnia with him, but you instead end up going to Ramshackle with the prefect. This is an all-boys school after all, so the best place for you to be on campus is probably in the dorm with the only other female student. (That and Bear came with you and Ramshackle already has Grim so. . .)
There's no telling what trouble you'll get to in your time staying at NRC, but rest assured that Lilia will be there to help you out (whether that means getting you out of trouble or helping you cause more).
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ur-local-wizard · 2 days ago
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I love the way you write baby, can you honour me with this prompt idea: Mattheo Riddle loses a Quidditch match against his biggest rival, and his anger boils over. Dragging his girlfriend into the locker room, he takes out his frustration on her in a heated, rough moment of intimacy. Afterward, he leaves her shaken to vent elsewhere, but when he returns, he finds her being comforted by his rival. Jealousy and fury take over as he drags her away, scolding her and accusing her of betrayal—though beneath his anger is a fear he’s not ready to admit: that he might’ve pushed her too far this time.
Losing Game
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tysm for the request babes!! this was sooo creative! hope you enjoy, it was my first time writing angst 🤭
mattheo riddle x fem!reader, extremely toxic behavior, mentions of sex, characters are of age, i think that's it
w/c: 1106
masterlist
a/n: if there are any tags I missed, pls pls pls let me know!! also, I wasn't sure if i should label it nsfw in my masterlist or not, so if you think it should be tell me and I'll change it!
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Angry sex with Mattheo was something you were used to, especially after he lost a quidditch game. Everyone knew he had a temper, and even as his girlfriend, you were not immune to it. But he’s never been so hurtful. Not like this. 
The physical part of it was good, as per usual, but his words struck a deeper chord than normal. The names he called you, the blatant disregard for your feelings, the way his touch felt oppressive instead of loving – it was strange, and honestly overwhelming. 
So that’s how you got here, curled up in the fetal position just outside the quidditch locker room. You barely noticed the muffled sound of footsteps approaching you on the grass. Blinking back more tears, you look up, not expecting to see the Gryffindor Cormac McLaggen of all people. He was one of many on the long list of people Mattheo hated most, and you knew that if your boyfriend saw him of all people in his current tempered state, someone would end up in the hospital wing. 
“You okay?” Cormac asked, crouching in front of you. His tone was softer than you would expect, laced with nothing short of concern and pity. He reached out, and you flinched as his hand brushed your arm. “You’re freezing. Come, let’s get you inside. I don’t want you to contract hypothermia.” 
The warmth of his hand sent a wave of guilt through you, and the combination of your confusion and his touch made you flinch away. He’s right – it’s so cold your fingers are going numb. You weren’t sure if it was the weight of your emotions, your exhaustion, or the sheer cold, but you felt your defenses crumble, allowing him to pull you up and off the ground.
Then the locker room door opened. 
Out walked Mattheo, his presence looming over you like a shadow. His hair was disheveled, his jaw set like stone. His gaze flicked between you and Cormac, his eyes burning with fury. 
“What the fuck is going on here?” He snapped, his voice low and full of nothing but rage and resentment. You opened your mouth to speak, but he roughly grabbed your wrist and pulled you to his side, effectively cutting you off. Your stomach churned, and the emotions swirling inside your gut made you want to puke. 
“You think this is okay?” He scolded you, his gaze narrowing into a glare. “The hell are you doing with this piece of shit?” He motioned to Cormac, scoffing. “And you, what are you doing with my girlfriend?” 
“Mattheo, stop-” Your voice trembled as you began to talk, but the bitter laugh that escaped his lips cut you off. 
  “Don’t even try to explain,” he sneered, his grip so tightening so much it may leave a bruise. His expression was still angry, but something seemed off. Beneath the anger in his eyes, you saw a flicker of something else – something raw. Afraid, maybe. “I leave for five fucking minutes and come back to find you cozying up with Cormac fucking McLaggen.” 
His words hit harder than expected, making the nausea in your stomach only grow stronger. “You’re being ridiculous,” you said, voice quiet but filled with hurt. You pressed your lips together and fought the urge to cry again. 
“Ridiculous? You don’t get to decide that after this little stunt you just pulled.” 
Cormac crossed his arms over his chest, his expression solemn. “Maybe if you treated her better and paid attention to her obvious distress, she wouldn’t be crying out here in the cold,” he retorted. 
The room seemed to freeze at his words. Mattheo’s head snapped toward Cormac, his eyes dark and burning. The tension in the air was suffocating, a storm brewing just beneath the surface.
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Mattheo hissed.
“I know enough,” Cormac shot back, unwavering. “I know she shouldn’t be out here like this. She could get sick!”  
Mattheo’s jaw clenched so hard it looked like his teeth could grind together into dust. For a moment, it looked like he was going to punch Cormac – he certainly wanted to – and the suspense made you even dizzier than before. But instead, he turned his glare back to you. “Get up. Let’s go.” It wasn’t a question, and you could tell by the tone of his voice it was more of an ultimatum. Stay here, and you would lose him. 
You hesitated, jaw opening and closing, unsure what to say. You didn’t want to fight. Not again. Not when your body already ached from more than just the physicality of what had just conspired in the locker room. So, even after all the hurt he’s caused, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave him. He just looked so betrayed, so afraid. 
“Okay,” you conceded, voice barely a whisper. Cormac scoffed, but you didn’t dare look his way as your boyfriend grabbed your wrist again and led you away, his footsteps crushing the grass beneath his feet. His grip wasn’t painful, but it was firm – as if he was afraid that if he let go, you’d disappear. 
The journey was silent as he dragged you to an empty corridor. The moment the two of you were alone, he spun to face you, his chest rising and falling rapidly with labored breaths. 
“Don’t ever do that again,” he said. 
“Do what?” You asked, brows furrowing.
His fingers twitched at his sides, as if he was fighting the urge to reach for you. “Sitting with him. Letting him touch you. Letting him look at you like – like that.”
You stared at him, disbelief bubbling up past the lingering hurt. “Mattheo, do you even hear yourself? I was sitting there because of you. Because of what you did.”
He looked shocked, but that quickly faded as he realized what you were talking about. He lowered his eyes to the ground, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed his shame. He looked like he wanted to argue, to push back like he always did in situations like this, but something in his expression told you he knew he would finally lose you if he did. For the first time, he looked unsure. 
“Do you even care that you hurt me?” You asked, voice softer now, but still full of lingering hurt. In response, his whole body tensed. A long silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. Then, barely above a whisper, so low you almost missed it, he muttered, “I do.”
It wasn’t an apology – not yet. But you knew it was as close as you were going to get for now. 
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Ty again for this request!! I had sm fun writing it! Sorry it took me so long to write, life and school is insane rn
taglist: @ilovejamespottersomuch @mattyriddlesbitch @valenftcrush @sturniolover13 @paankhaleyaaar @thereeallink @voidangxls
©ur-local-wizard translating, republishing, copying, or claiming my work as yours is not permitted. all my work belongs to me and me only. thank you!
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akiirart · 6 hours ago
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Twilight princess best game dude
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monvirtu · 2 days ago
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general hcs about dating irl!quackity?
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𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆
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⋆ precis ~ headcanons on what it's like to date quackity!
��� tags ~ romance, use of quackity's real name, kissing, and fluff.
⋆ notes ~ thank you for the request, i hope you enjoy!
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⋆       to start this off, he's absolutely enamored by you. he's obsessed.
⋆       but the best part of it is that he's not embarrassed to show it.
⋆       you could literally be doing nothing and he would just be staring at you with so much love in his eyes you would think that you had just given him the world.
⋆       which, according to him, you technically did since you are his world.
⋆       another way quackity shows his love for you is that he always has to be touching you, or he has to be somewhat close to you.
⋆       of course, if you asked him to stop, he would, but if you're okay with him being clingy, expect him to be clingy.
⋆       holding your hand while you're both walking around, having his hand on your thigh while you both eat, wrapping his arms around your waist while you're talking to your friends—he doesn't care as long as he gets to be near you.
⋆       but if that doesn't show his love for you, then the way he talks to you certainly does.
⋆       quackity is a 'words of affirmation' person, so he's constantly complimenting you and just saying positive things overall.
⋆       when you wake up, he'll tell you how he thinks you look stunning, or if you accomplished something, he'd celebrate and tell you how proud he is of you.
⋆       also, if you did the same back to him, he'd be the happiest man in the world.
⋆       when it comes to dating quackity, chat more or likely knows about you (if you were okay with them knowing about you).
⋆       they probably figured out about you either because quackity started talking about you, or you accidentally walked in while he was streaming.
⋆       and now, every time you walk in on him streaming, they get excited.
randomuser213: WHERE'S [NAME]????
ILOVEMEN: I WANNA SEE [NAME]
TVgirlML: WE WANT [NAME]
"you want [name]?" quackity asked—not noticing that you had sneaked into his room because he was too focused on chat. more messages kept spamming as everyone started to ask where you were, and he could only let out a chuckle.
"i want [name], too—"
"YOU WHAT, ALEXIS!?"
quackity's head snapped towards the door as you stood there—eyes wide and your mouth agape while he could only purse his lips.
chat started to mock him and greet you and you both remained silent, and quackity eventually turned back to face the computer screen.
"i'm ending stream."
⋆       also, he'd invite you to play games with him on stream.
⋆       you'd either be sitting in a chair beside him, or you'd be on his lap while you both played. if you were on his lap, he'd have his arms around your waist and his chin would rest on your shoulder.
⋆       quackity can cook, by the way. a good one.
⋆       all you have to say is that you're craving something or you're hungry and he's in the kitchen with a 'kiss the cook' apron on while cooking up whatever it was you wanted.
⋆       music would be blasting through the kitchen and he'd be singing so loud you would've sworn the whole neighbourhood could hear, but he wouldn't care. if you were to walk into the kitchen, you'd be pulled into a dance with him.
⋆       he might get too distracted by dancing with you, though, and burn the food.
⋆       so, if you don't like your food being a little crispy, remind him that he's cooking.
⋆       he'd teach you if you didn't know how to, but if you did, you both are cooking new recipes and such together.
⋆       back to the clingy thing, he's the type who—if you're okay with it—would put his arms around your neck whenever he's behind you.
⋆       it would be like a headlock, except you're not choking. he does it because he just likes physical touch and it's comfy, but it also shows off his muscles.
⋆       speaking of muscles, he'd wear compression shirts or tank tops just to tease you if you liked his arms.
⋆       if you liked going to the gym, you'd both go together and he'd take those couple pictures you'd see on pinterest.
⋆       like, the ones where you're standing in front of the gym mirrors, and he would be behind you flexing.
⋆       another thing is that he would take couple pictures or do tiktok trends with you if you asked.
⋆       it could be the stupidest thing ever, but he would still do it because you seemed really eager to do it.
⋆       this man would act childish, by the way.
⋆       he gets all giddy over little things, and if you deny him something, he'll pout about it.
"why are you in the corner, alexis?"
your question rang out as you stared in confusion at quackity—his head leaning against the wall as he stood in a corner.
"because you told me that you didn't want to go out with me."
"because it's raining." you remarked, and when he didn't reply, you let out a quiet sigh. "and i was thinking that we could stay in and watch movies."
that got his attention.
he slowly turned around as he stared at you for a minute, "can we make a fort?"
"of course, we can make a fort."
a wide grin sprawled across his face as he dashed out of the room—leaving you to be puzzled until he walked back in with a bunch of blankets in hand.
and a lot of plushies.
⋆       your dates would typically consist of you both going out, but not just to restaurants or whatnot.
⋆       he would plan dates like a picnic under the stars, or he'd take you on a trip to another town nearby to experience new places. if you wanted, you'd both could just stay inside and order takeout while laying on the couch together.
⋆       he does not care what you both do as long as he's with you.
⋆       but with dating comes arguments.
⋆       quackity will not raise his voice during an argument. instead, he's very quiet—which is scary.
⋆       while it's rare for you both to get into arguments, when you do, you're the one who's talking through it all while quackity just stands there. he's quiet while you get your point across, and he doesn't even dare try to speak a word while you're speaking.
⋆       once you're done, he'll either step out of the room for a minute with a nod, or he'll bring up his points and talk about how he wants to fix things. it really depends on what you're both arguing about.
⋆       sometimes, he would just need a breather before communicating with you. if something hurtful was said, he'd need a minute to think about it.
⋆       eventually, you both would make up. if he was in the wrong, he'd make it up to you by gifting you a long apology and promising change, and he'd probably give you a gift as well.
⋆       another thing with quackity is that he's not necessarily the jealous type, or he at least doesn't show it.
⋆       if you're just talking with someone, he might pop up beside you and hold your hand, but if someone's flirting with you, he'd get more touchy. if the person doesn't stop, he might say something, but he would definitely get a word in if he noticed you were uncomfortable.
⋆       a little detail about dating him is that he'd be the type to have a little note on his notes app about you. like, he'd keep little details about you that he's noticed, and he'd have a photo album dedicated to just you and him.
⋆       with all of those photos, they could be point fives or whatnot and he would say you looked stunning in them.
⋆       again, he's enamored with you. he's in love.
⋆       there's no doubt about that.
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©𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐔𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓
writings are to not be reposted, translated, or plagiarized. if you wish to show your love for my work, feel free to reblog, comment, or like.
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