#life can take us in so many different directions!

[chappell-roans]

friendship and platonic love are so undervalued and so vital in such a lonely culture that puts such emphasis on romantic relationships and individualism.

[canyonmooncreations]

Okay so bratty princess reader x bodyguard tf141 has me in a chokehold and I love it so much. Is it okay if we get more of readers internal thoughts about why she’s so polite and lovely around Simon? Like I can imagine one day princess is down in the kitchen late at night looking for more ice cream and Simon is down there brewing some tea trying to wind down for the night, and as per usual brattyness, princess asks- no.. orders Simon to make her a bowl only to be met with, “Don’t you think it’s a bit late for that luv?” Does princess care? Fuck no, and when Simon doesn’t follow directions she goes to make a bowl herself only to be met with Simon grabbing the ice cream and raising it in the air away from princess, which was easy thanks to their height difference. Gently saying “I jus’ said that it’s too late for some ice cream, let’s get some tomorrow yeah?” And princess is just in shock. She’s never been told no, and even if she was it wasn’t like THAT. Her brain all frazzled with Simon’s authoritative yet gentle demeanor, she just gives up and scoffs, mumbling little threats under her breath as she stomps up stairs to her room.

I also see princess all embarrassed about that interaction because she’s so used to men her age not being like Simon

Also is it okay if I become 🐚 anon? :3

I love your writing so much !

Hey anon… you just got me out of my writer's block and I even felt the need to break out my laptop for this and I have many ideas for more parts…. Love youuuuu and yes you can be my little sea shell anon :)

This takes place before the last part as a little bit of backstory on why our bratty princess is only an angel for Mr. Riley 

“Mr. Riley. Two scoops of ice cream. Whipped cream on top.” You barked out. Not a please, not a thank you, and it definitely was not a question. If your father was to insist a broody man be with you at all times, they could at least be useful, right? 

“Don’t you think it’s a bit late for that luv?”

Seriously? Who is he to tell you it’s too late for ice cream? Fuck that. You give him an eye roll, missing the way his demeanor shifts at your attitude. If you paid any attention to him you’d see he is enjoying this little attitude of yours. You move to the kitchen determined to get your sweet treat. You get your bowl and the scoop, then walk around the beast of a man and head to the freezer. As your hand reaches for the ice cream, Simon’s large hand beats you to it. 

“Come on!” You’re getting frustrated. Maybe you should report this to your father, but what would he care? They’re job is to protect you, not ruin your life. 

“I jus’ said that it’s too late for some ice cream, let’s get some tomorrow yeah?”

It is like your brain short circuited. Did he just tell you no? You couldn’t remember the last time someone told the princess no. But the way he said it, in the deep yet calm and authoritative tone? It is hard to process. You let out a small huff and groan (and maybe even a little stomp). As you make your way back upstairs, you replay the conversation over and over in your head.  

The way his body was so close to yours, his eyes looking down at you from his hulking frame, and the way his face was soft yet suggesting you don’t try to argue with him. His whole demeanor, his body language…. 

You catch your face turning red and can’t help but groan as you flop into your bed. Who is this man to tell you no?? And why are you so flustered by it?? 

The next day as you roll out of bed the night before still plays on repeat in your head. All through your morning routine you can’t help but feel flustered. You are just hoping they have switched shifts and you don’t have to confront him again today. 

The world is not on your side this morning…. When you walk down for breakfast, there he stands in the kitchen nearly in the same spot as the night before. You can feel your cheeks turning heating up again. 

“Mornin’ princess.” He grumbles out. Your new bashful and embarrassed demeanor does not go unnoticed to him and you miss the way he smirks slightly. Is that all it takes to tame the bratty princess? A simple authoritative tone? 

You reply with a short good morning and begin to fix your breakfast. 

“Sit down luv, I already made you breakfast.” 

You are shocked to find yourself following his orders thoughtlessly. It is like your brain just turns off and does whatever he tells you to do. And to be honest? You kind of like it. 

Your eyes go wide as he delivers a bowl with two scoops, whipped cream, and sprinkles. 

“Told you we would get some tomorrow, yeah?” 

“Thank you, Mr. Riley.” You give him a small smile trying not to melt at his tone yet again. 

He smiles as he turns around knowing that he’s got you tamed. It was much simpler than he thought. Just some authority and gentleness? From this moment on, you don’t question him. You never argue. You are simply a sweet princess, but only for Mr. Riley.

MASTERLIST

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Andra Watkins at For Such A Time As This (02.07.2025):

Yesterday, the administration released a new executive order that would create a “faith office” within the White House and direct the Attorney General to eradicate so-called “anti-Christian bias” from the federal government. This move is straight out of Project 2025, but it is also part of the authoritarian playbook followed by Putin and Orbán. Rather than rehash this order, I want to help readers grasp what this crowd means when they say phrases like “anti-Christian bias,” “Christian persecution,” and “religious liberty.” Because what they mean will matter for YOU and your loved ones.

Anti-religious bias

‘Live and let live’ is antithetical to Christian Nationalists; they believe everyone in society should be forced to follow Christian Nationalist laws. Any law that differs from their interpretation of the Bible contains so-called “anti-religious bias.” For example, CNs believe homosexuality is a mortal sin, a depraved choice. They do not believe God created anyone with a same-sex attraction. Therefore, forcing them to accept homosexual people and behavior when they are certain it is wrong is “anti-religious bias,” ie: laws that violate their perceived religious liberty to discriminate against people and behaviors they believe to be wrong. They don’t think they should have to hire, work with, shop with, or otherwise see or experience homosexuality in any aspect of daily life. How this interpretation of anti-religious bias could impact YOU:

Christian Nationalists believe the natural role of women is 1. get married to a man; 2. submit to said man; 3. have as many babies as God gives her; and 4. stay home and take care of them. Any laws that allow or support women working outside the home contain “anti-religious bias.”

Many Christian Nationalists believe ALL CONTRACEPTION causes abortions. Therefore, laws that allow more access to contraception or keep contraception legal contain “anti-religious bias.”

Project 2025 aimed to revoke the right to same-sex marriage, because recognizing same-sex couples nationwide is “anti-religious bias.”

Christian Nationalists insist that God created 2 sexes: male and female. Therefore, every human must be categorized according to God’s purported plan. Any law or regulation that acknowledges the existence of transgender, non-binary, or intersex people is therefore “anti-religious.”

Readers who have specific questions about how this definition could impact them or someone they care about can drop questions in the comments.

Christian persecution

Many Americans may hear comments about a Christian nation and think, “Why would that be so bad? What could it hurt to live by the Christian moral code? Wouldn’t that make us more safe and secure?” This thinking is especially prevalent among congregations that are Christian but not Christian Nationalist. Which is why it is critical for Americans to understand what Christian Nationalists mean when they throw around a phrase like “Christian persecution.” For Christian Nationalists, Christian persecution is anything that tries to stop them from forcing everyone in society to live by Christian Nationalist laws.

Some examples:

This newsletter is Christian persecution.

Calling Project 2025 a Christo-fascist manifesto is Christian persecution.

Confronting a group of pious theocrats from a pulpit, as Bishop Budde did so eloquently, is Christian persecution.

Disagreeing with them about the interpretation of the Bible (or basically any spiritual thing they assert) is Christian persecution.

Telling them no is Christian persecution.

Forcing them to be in the vicinity of anything that offends them is Christian persecution.

Recognizing other faiths and giving them equal treatment is Christian persecution.

The existence of atheists and other secular beliefs is Christian persecution.

I hope everyone can see what’s happening here: Christian Nationalists believe they have the right to use Christianity to persecute everyone else, and whenever someone resists, they cry, “I’m a victim of Christian persecution!” It’s very basic projection.

Andra Watkins wrote in her For Such A Time As This Substack explaining the phrase “anti-Christian bias” and the Trump executive order that is supposedly designed to combat “anti-[conservative] Christian bias.”

[imaginedisish]

Lover, You Should've Come Over (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Get ready to cry. This is based on a request I received yesterday where the reader gets jealous of Jean. I tried to take this in a different direction just because I feel like this is a popular trope that has been done by many fantastic writers. It's also inspired by "Lover, You Should've Come Over," by Jeff Buckley. Hope you guys enjoy.

Summary: You've been pining after Logan since you joined the X-Men, and you're convinced he'll never love you back. He’s obsessed with Jean—always has been. Or...maybe he's not.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI, Oral (f!receiving), fingering, PIV (unprotected...pls WRAP IT UP THIS IS FICTION!), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, f!reader/afab!reader, telepathic!reader, cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan (kinda? yeah.), non-canon compliant (you'll see what I mean...no spoilers), cursing, angst, feelings, implied mutant trauma (kinda a given in X-Men), probably some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,197 sorry

Wanting someone you can’t have—it’s that crying in the shower, pulling your legs into your chest, screaming into your pillow kind of heartache. You’ve come to know the feeling intimately. It’s an awful, horrid, stomach-churning kind of pain.

But you want him. Despite all the pain, you want him. Logan Howlett. You can’t seem to keep him off your mind. For the few months you’ve been one of the X-Men, Logan has been a constant. He’s always there—whether it’s to train or just to talk. But you know he’ll never want you. You see the way he looks at Jean. You wish you didn’t. You wish you were oblivious to that sort of thing. But you don’t need to use your telepathy to reach inside his mind for proof—you just know. 

You keep holding on, savoring every moment, every interaction you have with Logan. You sit on the lawn of the mansion with him, watching the sunset. You’ll come down to the living room late at night to find him sitting in front of the T.V. and join him. Sometimes he’ll drape an arm around your shoulder. He’ll draw circles into your side as you drift off. You’ll wake up the next morning back in your bed, Logan having carried you there long after you’ve fallen asleep. 

You’ve decided you’ll take all he’ll give you, even if it means nothing to him—even if it's platonic. 

But tonight, you wish something would come up through the floor and swallow you whole. A void, a black hole maybe. That would do the trick. Disappearing would make everything so much easier. The second-best thing to disappearing is sitting in the kitchen of the mansion, alone, with a pint of ice cream. You decide to practice your powers, moving the silver spoon with your mind, concentrating as you dig the spoon into the top of the pint and into your mouth. 

You hear a warm, familiar chuckle from the doorway as the spoon lands on your tongue. You look up, and there’s Logan, arms tucked across his chest. “Wish I could do that.”

You can’t help but smile around the spoon as he strides over to you, taking a seat on the stool next to yours. You slide the spoon out of your mouth and rest it on the napkin next to the ice cream. “Hey,” you mutter, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

His shoulder brushes against yours. He’s so close it hurts. You try to shove the pain down and enjoy the moment. 

“Was hoping I’d run into you down here. Thought maybe you’d be in bed already,” Logan says, his eyes locked on yours. 

You shake your head, doing your best to keep that fake smile plastered on your face. “Couldn’t sleep.” 

You can see the sudden concern appear on his face. “Everything okay?” He asks, tilting his head to the side. Fuck, you think to yourself. Maybe he’s catching on. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, looking down at the ice cream. “Just still having a hard time adjusting.” It wasn’t a lie. You had always struggled with your powers, longing to hide, to shove them down. Your whole life, you were either a freak or something to be used—whatever was most convenient in the moment. The struggle between visibility and forcing yourself to be “normal” was an impossible battle. You were no stranger to being taken advantage of or being experimented on.

Logan was the first person who understood that—understood you. He made you feel seen in a way that no one ever had. It’s part of the reason you’ve fallen so hard for him. 

His hand is suddenly on your back, yanking you from your thoughts and back to reality. “I’m here,” he whispers. “Whatever you need, anything.” 

Anything. You wish he really meant it. 

“Thanks, Lo.” You smile up at him, letting your eyes linger on his lips for just a second before looking back down at the ice cream. “Want some?” You ask, nodding at the pint. 

“Only if you feed it to me the way you did when I walked in.” You can hear the smirk in his voice as he taps the spoon. You side-eye him incredulously. “I mean it. Wanna see you do it again.” There’s a husk in his voice, a shift in his timber that sends a chill down your spine. You try not to think about it too much as you pick up the spoon with your mind. 

You guide the spoon inside the pint, scraping the top, and lifting it up towards Logan’s mouth. He opens wide as you lead the spoon inside, his tongue hitting the bottom as his lips close around it. The implications of the moment don’t dawn on you until he’s grabbing the spoon with his hands and sucking on the metal. There’s something undeniably suggestive about this. 

Heat rises to your chest as you replay the image of him taking the spoon into his mouth in your mind. It’s so intimate, so domestic. And, certainly, something else—something that makes you tick, that makes that familiar fire grow deep within your belly. 

But—like always—the moment doesn’t last long. You wince, feeling someone itching against your thoughts, prodding at your mental shields, begging to be let in. Suddenly, there’s another voice in your mind. 

I gotta try that myself. You flinch at the sound, taking the spoon from Logan’s hand and shooting it across the room to where you sense the person’s presence. You turn around, and there’s Jean, resisting the spoon’s trajectory with her mind. 

It's almost pressing into her skull, shaking in mid-air, ready to break her skin. You gasp and drop the spoon, embarrassed to have registered her as a threat. “I’m so sorry,” you say, watching as Jean crouches down and picks up the spoon. “I didn’t know that was you in there, I swear.”

You expect Logan to stand from the chair and rush over to Jean, but he stays next to you, glued to your side, the palm of his hand resting gently on your back. “Jean.” His voice is firm, almost cold and harsh. “What was that?” You’re surprised at how curt he’s being with her, surprised he remembered that you’re sensitive to people probing around your mind, even if it’s friendly. 

Jean mutters a curse. “I was just communicating with her. I didn’t think she’d—” 

Logan stands, his hand still steady at your back. “Don’t do that again. Ever.” His voice is louder now, heavier. 

She whispers an apology, setting the spoon on the counter and walking towards the doorway. “I really didn’t mean to hurt you,” she says. “I should’ve remembered given your…” she pauses, searching for the word, “past…that it wouldn’t be a good idea.” She takes another tentative step. “I’ll leave you two alone,” she says, and she slips out. 

Logan settles back into the stool next to you. You’re shocked that he’s still here, that he hasn’t run away yet. You can hear him breathe—in and out—gentle, long breaths. You close your eyes and listen, the sound calming you down. You’re still expecting him to leave, to walk away, but he doesn’t. 

“You okay?” He asks, your eyes fluttering open, his voice hanging in the air. His head is tilted to the side, worry painted across his face. 

“Y-yeah. I’m fine,” you stutter, your voice cracking. “You don’t have to stay with me. You can go check on her if you want.” You nod towards the doorway—to wherever Jean wandered off to. 

“And why would I do that?” Is all he says in return, furrowing his brows. 

You put on that fake smile again. “I almost jammed a spoon into her forehead because she spoke to me telepathically.” You shake your head. “Don’t really think my reaction was particularly friendly—or something that good people do.” You break eye contact with Logan and look to the other side of the kitchen. “Plus, you two are…close.”

“Hey.” His voice is firm again, but gentle this time, reassuring. His hand slips across your back and rests on your waist. You’re so shocked by the contact that you almost miss what he says. “First of all, she knows better. Charles warned her about what you’ve been through. And second…” He trails off, smirking at you. “I’d rather be with you.”

Oh? Oh. He’d rather be with you. 

“I just thought, you know, you and Jean were…” You’re too embarrassed to finish the sentence and too nervous to hear him say the words you’ve been dreading most. 

He shakes his head, that smirk still spread across his lips. “No, it’s not Jean I want. Never has been.” 

Your breathing becomes shaky—your heart beating rapidly in your chest. “If it’s not Jean, then—” 

Logan cuts you off as he suddenly moves. His arm lifts from your waist as he stands, turning your stool around so your back is against the cold countertop. He’s gripping the arms of the stool now, caging you in. Your mind is hazy—you can’t concentrate with him this close. 

“You think I do the shit I do with you with Jean too, hm?” He’s towering over you, his head cocking to the side, his voice self-assured and confident. “Think I’m watching movies and sunsets with her? Carrying her to bed, too?” 

You’re overwhelmed, dizzied by his words, his size, him. “Just thought that—”

“Just thought what?” He cuts you off again. “That I didn’t want you, darlin’?” He brings his lips to the shell of your ear, one hand moving from the counter to your hip. “Wanted you this whole time,” he huffs, goosebumps rising on your arms. “Only you.” He presses a kiss to your ear, and then just underneath your jaw. 

“Logan,” you whisper. “W-want you too,” you choke out, your hands coming up and around his back. “B-but someone’s gonna walk in on us.” 

He’s ignoring you, biting your pulse point lightly and licking the pain away. “Let them,” he husks, refusing to stop. You instinctively bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, your nails digging in slightly. He groans at the contact, his chest heaving against yours. 

“One of the kids is catch us in here, or somebody else,” you mutter, his face still buried in the crook of your neck. “W-we should—”

“Go to my room.” He finishes your thought. 

“Please.” 

And then he’s picking you up from the chair, his hands under your thighs, grabbing your ass. You wrap your legs around his waist as he prowls out of the kitchen. He looks both ways as he crosses the hallway and makes his way to the stairs. There’s no one in sight. He carries you up the steps and down the hall to his room, practically breaking down the door as he swings it open and slams it shut. 

And then he’s laying you down on his bed, crawling over you, pressing his forehead against yours. “Wanted you in here sooner,” he murmurs, his lips just inches from yours. “Hoped you’d come over one night. You should’ve.”

His lips crash down onto yours before you can find the words to say. He’s starving for you, swallowing your moans as his hands slip under your shirt, his nails digging lightly into your sides. “So fucking beautiful,” he rasps against your lips. Everything is desperate and rushed, hands pawing at bare skin in the dim light of his room. 

Logan tugs on the hem of your shirt, rolling it up your body and over your head. He tosses it to the side as he sits up on his knees, taking you in. He curses under his breath, looking you up and down. 

“Logan,” you whine, arching your back. You need his hands on you again, his lips. Something. Anything. 

“I know, pretty girl,” he soothes, his fingers hooking inside the waistband of your shorts. “Gonna take care of you.” He yanks them down your legs, leaving you in just your bra and panties. 

He pulls off his own shirt, tossing it carelessly, letting it get lost on the floor. He settles back down over you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand finds your waist. He slides up to the bottom of your bra, teasingly pulling on the fabric before slipping his hand behind your back—skillfully unclasping the bra with one easy motion. You arch your back again, the bra straps sliding down your arms as Logan tosses the bra to the floor, too. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles, his hand tracing the curves of your breasts, massaging gently. “Perfect.” He captures your lips in another kiss as his thumb ghosts over your nipples, just barely giving you the relief you need before pinching softly. The pressure feels so good, so right, but it’s not enough. 

He draws circles around your nipples with his thumb, the sensation feeding the aching fire between your legs. Your hips involuntarily lift off the mattress, meeting his. “Need me that bad, huh?” He is always so incredibly cocky, even now—especially now. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, and what to do next. 

Logan grinds his erection into your core. You can feel how big he is, the weight of him heavy against your cunt even in his jeans. You clench around nothing, whining his name as his strained cock teases your panty-clad pussy. “You want me to make you feel good, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you stutter, biting your lips as his hand leaves your tits and sweeps down your stomach, stopping just above your clit. He slides his fingers down just a bit more, feeling where your arousal seeps through your panties. 

“Already soaking for me, sweetheart.” The bassy timber of his voice stokes that flame deep within your belly. Without warning, he’s hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and yanking them down your legs. “Can’t wait anymore, pretty girl,” he whispers. “Wanna taste this pussy.” He kisses your belly button, leaving a trail down the rest of your stomach as his mouth travels to where you need him most. 

There’s something depraved about the way he’s crawling down your body, taking in every inch of you. He spreads your legs apart with the palms of his hands—his thumbs brushing against your bare skin, licking teasingly at your inner thighs as he settles in between them. 

He pauses, looking at you under hooded eyes. You can see the want—no, the need—in the way his muscles flex and how he works his jaw. But he’s hesitating, his breath hot against your core, sending another jolt of desire through your body. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your eyes searching his for his next move. 

He finally presses a kiss to your clit. “You don’t understand how you make me feel,” he mumbles against your heat, licking a long stripe through your folds and back to your clit. “No idea how long I’ve fucking wanted you.” You throw your head back, whimpering his name as he laps again and again. He’s starving, and you’re the only thing that can satiate his hunger. His tongue swirls around your clit, flicking it, taking it in between his lips and sucking hard. 

Your hips lift off the mattress and Logan quickly moves to hold them down. “You’re not going anywhere, darlin’,” he grunts against you, the vibration of his voice going straight to your core. 

His free hand slips up the inside of your thighs, teasingly climbing higher and higher, his nails skimming your flesh. He’s toying with you, leading you on, taking his time. His fingers finally ghost over your folds, exploring you, stroking up and down as his tongue laps at your cunt. 

Logan prods your entrance with two fingers, slipping in just a bit, testing the waters. “Please,” you beg, pushing your hips down in an attempt to sink his fingers deeper into you. He stops you, his hand still firmly holding your hips down, refusing to give you the release you’re dying for. 

“So fucking impatient, aren’t you?” He tuts. And then he’s shoving two fingers all the way inside you, down to his knuckles. “Such a pretty pussy.”

“F-fuck!” You cry out, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he sets a relentless pace. He’s drinking you in, sucking roughly, his long fingers pumping in and out with a vengeance. 

“’This what you wanted, pretty girl?” He asks condescendingly in between laps. You’re too fucked out to form a sentence, your legs trembling underneath him. You know he’s loving this—loving that you’re a wet, needy, whimpering mess. 

Your walls squeeze around his fingers, your swollen clit throbbing as he laps at you. You’re so close already. “Lo,” you call out, fisting the sheets of his bed. Everything in here smells like him: pine and mint and musk and tobacco and that thing that’s uniquely Logan. It’s all so overwhelming and overstimulating. You’re ready to fall apart, to melt into nothingness. “S-so close.”

He squeezes your hip. “I know, sweetheart,” he soothes, his pace unwavering as his fingers fuck into you, scissoring inside you, drawing you closer to your climax with that come-hither motion he does so well. Your walls flutter again. “That’s it,” he coos. “Wanna feel you come—wanna know what it tastes like.” He licks harder, faster. “Let go for me, darlin’.” 

He pushes you over the edge, pleasure warming your belly as you let go. It washes over you in waves, his fingers still pumping in and out, his tongue still hanging on to the taste of you. You ride it out, his thumb brushing your hip, coaxing you through it. His fingers slip out of your cunt, but his head is still buried between your legs. You shudder as he licks long, slow stripes through your folds. 

“So fucking sweet,” he growls, still starving for more. “Not done with you yet.”

Fuck. 

But you need more—need his cock deep inside you, pounding into you. You need him in front of you, his lips on yours. 

“Logan,” you whine, your voice shaky and trembling just like the rest of your body. He finally lifts his head, his hair a disheveled mess, your juices glistening on his lips and his chin. The sight of him makes your breath hitch in your throat. There’s a feral, needy look in his eyes. He’s starving for more of you, and you’re not quite sure he’ll ever get enough. 

But he can see your chest heaving and the desire in your own eyes. He knows what you need—he always does. He sits up on his knees, staring at you while he slowly unbuckles his belt. The tension is palpable, the clinking of his belt against the hardwood floors cutting through it like a hot knife—the only sounds the melding of your quick breaths and the shuffling of bed sheets as Logan finally comes up to meet you. 

He's balancing on his forearm as he unbuttons his jeans, undoing the zipper and shoving the denim and his boxers down his legs. You swallow at the sight of his cock springing against his stomach. You had felt his erection before, but he is far bigger than you ever anticipated. 

With one hand on his cock, he lowers himself in between your thighs. You instinctually spread your legs for him, inviting him in. He nudges against your entrance, taking his time. 

His forehead meets yours, your chests flush against each other’s, panting in sync. You’re both waiting with bated breath, his tip slipping inside, but stopping short before going any farther. 

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Thought I’d never have you,” he confesses, pushing his tip a bit further in. “Would’ve given up anything for this. Would’ve waited forever.”

“You don’t have to,” you murmur.  “I’m right here. I’m yours.” 

“Mine?”

“All yours.”

And then he’s pushing deep inside you, down to the hilt, bottoming out. He swallows your moans with a kiss, biting your lip, drawing blood, and licking it away. “All fucking mine.” He stays buried inside you, unmoving. “Wanna stay inside you forever, sweetheart,” he growls, your heart bursting at the thought.

He pulls himself all the way out and all the way back in, stretching you out, working you open. You look down in between your bodies and watch as his cock disappears inside of you. “Feels s-so fucking good,” you stammer, already drunk off him. 

“Like watching me fuck into you?” Logan husks, picking up his pace, his hips snapping into yours. 

“Y-yes,” you whimper. His muscles flex as he ruts into you. He takes the hand that was on his cock and brings it in between your bodies, his fingertips quickly finding your clit and giving it a soft pinch. Your back arches off the mattress at the sensation. 

Logan hums at your reaction. “So sensitive,” he groans. “Taking me so good, sweetheart.” You can feel him losing control as he rams into you, his thrusts growing harder with each pump of his cock. He’s drawing firm, fast circles into your core. 

It’s all too much, him, his cock, his fingers. Your skin is on fire, your nipples pushing against his chest—the friction absolutely delicious. You’re already so close, just a few steps away from the ledge, and you’re ready to fall. 

“Know you’re close, darlin’,” Logan moans in between kisses. “Can feel you squeezing me.” 

You hum in response, but Logan refuses to let up. His pace is beyond brutal, pounding into you over and over again, his fingers working your clit in tandem. Your muscles contract around him, gripping tightly. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “So fucking tight, so fucking warm.” His praises are more than you can handle. “You gonna come on my cock, just like this?” 

“Yes, fuck, Logan!” You’re a babbling mess, his name the only thing on your mind, on your lips, hanging in the air like it’s a sacred prayer. Everything is him, and it always has been. In this moment and in every other, he is your end and your beginning. 

 “Let go for me, sweetheart. Know you can do it for me.” His deep voice is all you need to walk you through it. You’re breaking down, coming on his cock, the pleasure coursing through your veins, spreading like an untamable fire. 

He’s stroking your clit long after you’ve come, still snapping his hips into yours, still working up towards his own orgasm. His pace is getting sloppier, but he shows no signs of stopping. You can feel yourself growing overstimulated, his cock rubbing against your walls, his fingers circling your clit. “S’too much,” you whine, your nails digging into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist. 

Logan presses himself closer to you, as close as he possibly can be. “You’ve got one more in you, sweetheart,” he coaxes, not letting up. “Know you can take it.”

You’re breathless, clinging onto him helplessly. You’re clamping down on him again, taking him deeper than you did before. He’s hitting that sweet spot with every thrust. “Lo,” you whimper. “I’m gonna—”

“I know, darlin’,” he grunts. You can feel him throbbing inside you. “Let it happen, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.” 

The tension is snapping again, breaking in half as he pulls another orgasm from you. You shudder as you come for a third time, overstimulated and beyond fucked out. You know he’s close behind, his hips slowing down, his forehead pressed against yours. He slips his hand away from your clit and around your back, pulling you closer to his chest. It’s so intimate, so perfect. 

“F-fuck,” he mumbles. “Where do you want me to—”

You hold him closer. “Stay,” you whisper. “Want you inside. Wanna feel you come.”

“Oh fuck,” he mutters, plunging deep inside you, his muscles tensing as he fills you up, your name on his lips. His thrusts slow, pumping in and out every now and then before finally stopping. 

You stay like this for a few minutes, his arm keeping you tight against his chest, his cock still buried inside you and your foreheads still pressed together. 

He brings a hand up to your cheek, his thumb brushing gently across your skin. You sigh, your eyes fluttering open and closed. 

He shakes his head. “I always wanted you,” he says, his voice low and raspy. “The whole time. It was only ever you.” 

His words could make you cry. It’s everything you’ve ever hoped to hear. You smile, his hand finding its way to the crook of your neck, his fingers lightly stroking your sensitive skin. “Can’t believe I didn’t see it,” you breathe, your voice laden with sleepiness. “I never knew. Thought you’d never want me.”

“I’ll always want you.” His cock finally slips out of you, leaving you feeling empty. His legs tangle with yours, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “Would’ve waited forever for you, darlin’.”

“Forever?”

“Longer.”

[cheers-to-you-th]

Don't Play Games (my heart is too fragile)

Pairing: Streamer!Seungcheol x Reader

Genre: Fluff, smut !MDNI!, s2f2l (kinda)

Tags: Fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, smut, Streamer!AU, former college classmate!Seungcheol, very short period of angst, slow burn

WC: 21k

Summary: Getting addicted to watching hot men play video games was definitely not on your year's bingo card. Getting addicted to watching Choi Seungcheol of all people? The idea would have been laughable.

Warnings: Smut, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (they’re dumb, you shouldn’t be: wrap it before you tap it), pet names (princess), bigdick!Seungcheol, praise, some angst, lmk if I missed anything

taglist: @christinewithluv @cherry-zip @orngejuic @duckieo

The first time you stumbled upon Seungcheol's stream, it was an accident, a shocking one at that. It was just another boring day at work, your normal podcasts weren't doing it for you- listening about murders while writing a report on "harassment" between two employees who were simply arguing gave you some ideas that would not be very HR Manager of you- so you instead decide to go on twitch, your coworker had once told you it was perfect background noise.

You clicked on the first stream in the gaming category: Val w/coups by 'everyone_woo'. The stream had opened and the face of your old college classmate filled your screen and you nearly got whiplash from the double take you did.

Apparently the aforementioned "Coups" was the former infamous president of Chi Beta Zeta, Choi Seungcheol. It makes sense, you suppose- that they'd be friends- having been in the same frat, but the idea of shy Wonwoo from Engineering and not-so-shy Seungcheol, your fellow Communications major, was a little off-putting. That is, until you remember the other thing they had in common along with the rest of CBZ: sex.

Rumors constantly circulated: who Seungcheol brought upstairs at the last party, what girl Wonwoo was seen dragging into the supply closet near the library; although you were never a part of the rumors they spread like wildfire.

You shoved those thoughts aside as you finished the report, and when the rest of the day went by quicker than normal, you reminded yourself to thank Jeonghan later.

(And you definitely maybe went home and looked up "S.coups" on your computer before deciding his gravelly voice would be your new favorite white noise machine.)

Soon enough listening to him had become a habit; you were working? He was raging over a new fps he was trying; you were cleaning the house? He and Wonwoo were trying a new game pre-release. 

—

On Wednesdays you, Minghao, and Jeonghan have a tradition: the three of you meet at a whole-in-the-wall cafe to gossip catch up with each other outside of work-talk.  It started back in college, an agreement to always meet in the middle of the week for a break from everything—stress, assignments, life. Even now, years later, with jobs and responsibilities pulling you in different directions, Wednesdays remained sacred.

Today the three of you find yourselves in the same dimly lit restaurant you’ve all sworn by for years. It’s not anything fancy, but its quiet, comfortable, and, most importantly, they have a bartender who never questions the amount of time you all spend loitering at a table long after the food is gone.

Minghao is already there when you arrive, scrolling through his phone with the slight air of disinterest he always carried. Jeonghan shows up moments later, his usual carefree smile in place as he slid into the seat across from you.

“You’re late,” you tease, setting down your bag.

Jeonghan waves a hand dismissively. “Traffic.”

Minghao snorts, locking his phone. “We chose this place because it’s closer to your office so you can walk here.”

“Exactly,” Jeonghan says, grinning. “Too many people in my way.”

You roll your eyes but let it slide, already used to his antics. The three of you order your usuals, conversation flowing easily between catching up on work drama and not-work drama. It’s comfortable, familiar.

Then, as if on cue, Jeonghan’s eyes gleam with mischief, and you know what is coming before he even opens his mouth. “So,” he starts, resting his chin on his hand, “how’s our favorite Twitch streamer?”

You groan. “We’re not doing this.”

“Oh, we absolutely are,” Jeonghan counters. “Minghao, did you know our dear friend here has been religiously listening to Choi Seungcheol rage at video games?”

Minghao raises a brow, intrigued. “Seungcheol? That Seungcheol?”

You huff, sinking into your seat. “It’s just background noise. I put it on while I work.”

Jeonghan’s smirk widens at your dismissal. “Sure. Background noise. Because out of all the streams in the world, you just happened to choose your old college classmate’s?”

Minghao, ever observant, takes a sip of his drink before adding, “You know, he mentioned you a couple times.”

You blink. “What?”

Jeonghan nods enthusiastically. “Oh yeah. Back in CBZ, there was a few months where all he could talk about was you. He thought you were cute and would get really annoyed when you brushed him off. It was super funny seeing him finally get rejected, even if it was just because you were too oblivious to notice him flirting with you.”

“Dense,” Minghao supplies. “That was the word he used.”

You roll your eyes at them, “I wasn’t dense or oblivious, I don’t even remember talking to him for more than ten seconds. I was too focused on trying to graduate, plus he wasn’t my type.”

“Suuuuuure.” Jeonghan leers, “That’s why you listen to his voice on a daily basis now. Regret some things?”

You don’t roll your eyes at him, focusing intently on your drink as you swirl the liquid in your glass. “Whatever, I just thought it was more interesting to listen to someone I kind of knew instead of some random person.”

Jeonghan and Minghao exchange a look that makes it clear this conversation is far from over, but, mercifully, they let it go—for now.

—

A week later they grill you about Seungcheol one more time before finally deciding to let it go, thinking finally you can live in peace. 

That’s why you’re almost having a heart attack as you exit the elevator to see the very man of your dreams standing outside the apartment adjacent to yours, moving boxes in hand. Frozen, you stand there gawking looking at him. As if he can feel your gaze, Seungcheol looks over at you and raises an eyebrow in question, looking borderline nervous and irritated. It broke whatever trance you were in as you introduced yourself (trying your best not to stutter) as a former classmate. He visibly relaxed at that while his eyes lit up in recognition.

“Professor Han’s class, right? We had a study group together one time.” You nod, thinking back to how girls had glared at you during class for daring to be randomly grouped with Seungcheol. The session had gone by quickly, slipping your mind until now.

“Uh, yeah, for midterms practice I think. I’m surprised you remember.” Your response has a smile pulling at the corners of his (annoyingly perfect) lips.

“Hard to forget such a pretty face.”

His words cause your eyes to roll, some things never change you suppose. You hum in response, “Except when I first came up here and you looked like I had insulted your entire bloodline or something.” 

Seungcheol’s smile, you decide, is your favorite sight. His eyes crinkle at the sides, the cutest dimples form on his cheeks when his lips curl upwards, a chuckle escaping them. “Sorry, I just thought- it doesn’t matter. It was really good seeing you again though.” A matching smile on your face, you offer to help him with any boxes but he only shakes his head.

“I was taught to never let a lady carry her own things, carrying mine? Unheard of. Although if you want to cheer me on I wouldn’t mind seeing your face more.” He winks and you just shake your head, ignoring the heat rising to your cheeks. You respond with something about outdated views before excusing yourself to the safety of your apartment, taking a deep breath to calm your racing heart.

—

Over the next few weeks, the two bump into each other frequently; exiting your apartments, entering the complex; each time briefly chatting before going your separate ways. Some nights you would get a notification about a stream, only to hear him talking through your bedroom wall. Part of you felt bad watching him play, guilt gnawing away at your thoughts and distracting you. 

It’s fine you tell yourself as you write the marketing team’s monthly performance report.

It’s fine you delude yourself as you hand said report to your deskmate, Minghao, to review.

It’s fi-shit you finally are snapped out of your denial when Minghao hands your report back covered in red pen marks and shame. He says your name with concern lacing his voice, “Have you been doing okay? You seem kind of… off and I’ve never seen this kind of work from you before.” 

You shake your head, burying your face in your hands, “Sorry Hao, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” 

He just tilts his head and tells you that, if you ever need to talk, he’s here. That was the downside of working with your best friend– you could never hide anything from him. Normally you’d take him up on the offer- tell him your woes and such- if it wasn’t so goddamn embarrassing. You brush him off before taking a deep breath and steel yourself as you weigh your options. You could either tell Seungcheol that you watch his streams or stop watching them altogether, and you sure as hell wouldn’t be inflating his ego anymore (at least that’s the reason you tell yourself, it’s definitely not that you don’t want him to feel uncomfortable around you).

The rest of the day goes by at a torturing pace, no commentary in the background to make time fly quicker. By the time you get on the bus, you’re half-asleep, and then you’re full asleep, head lulled to the side, bouncing uncomfortably on the window, not that you notice. 

“..am? Ma’am this is the last stop. You need to get off now.” The driver of the bus stands in front of you while you rub the sleep out of your eyes and look around. Taking note of the darkness outside the window and unfamiliar street, you sigh and lean your head against the window again, flinching at your slightly bruised head. 

Could this day get any fucking better.

You apologize to the driver, who just looks at you with pity, and get off the bus, gauging your surroundings and sighing, breath fogging in front of you. Your bus stop is one of the last ones, meaning after a second you realize where you are and groan, pulling out your phone to call a car. Except of-fucking-course your phone is dead. It’s late, the watch on your wrist reading 11:56 (thank god at least something of yours is working) and look around one more time, hoping a taxi would drive by and save you from the cold night. Shoulders slumped in resignation, you start walking towards your apartment, it’s only a few blocks away, a maybe twenty minute walk, as long as your notoriously shitty sense of direction screws you over, which it does. By the time you reach your building you’re shivering, nose and fingers red as you reach into your bag for your keys. 

Keys.

Keys.

Keys that you remember setting on your desk at work but don’t remember picking up. You want to scream. And cry. Mostly cry, if you’re gonna be honest because now your shitty day turned into an even shittier night. Morning, you realize as your watch now reads 12:34. A shaky laugh escapes your lips as you slump down next to the apartment complex’s glass door that seems to taunt you, as if it's rubbing in your face how close relief is and how unreachable. 

You feel your throat start to tighten and tears begin to well in your eyes.

“Y/n?” 

You think you’re starting to go insane from the cold until a warm hand lands on your shoulder, a shadow crouching in front of you. Looking up hesitantly, you come face to face with your new neighbor, plastic bag in hand from what you assume to be a late-night snack run. The tears in your eyes start to fall as you begin to sob, if you were in your right mind this would be the most embarrassing moment of your life, but right now you’re cold and hungry and scared and this man appeared like an angel sent from heaven just to help you.

“Oh my god, you’re freezing. What are you even- nevermind that come on.” Seungcheol’s arms wrap around you as he helps you up, getting into the building with his keys and walking with you to the elevator. When it starts to ascend, Seungcheol sets his bag on the ground and takes his jacket off, wrapping it around you. You don’t even have the strength to argue with him, all of it spent on the tears that now slowed to a stop as you look down at your feet, shame starting to kick in. You don’t want to imagine the look on his face right now, knowing it’ll be the same pitying glances you’ve received all day. 

The elevator dings as it arrives on the correct floor. Your feet start moving, muscle memory kicking in until you’re at your door, realizing you still don’t have your keys. When an arm once again wraps around you, you don’t even protest, allowing Seungcheol to guide you into his apartment, where he sets blankets and pillows on his couch. When you move to lay on it, he stops you.

“What are you doing? I’m sleeping on the couch, you can take my bed.” The words seemingly bring you out of the numb trance-like state you’d been in ever since you stopped crying. 

“I- what?! No, oh my god Seungcheol no, I couldn’t- I mean you’re already doing so much for me and-” A warm hand cups touches your forehead, promptly cutting off your rambling as your frantic eyes meet Seungcheol’s warm gaze. Fuck he shouldn’t look at you like that. 

“No offense Y/n but you look like you’re on the verge of hypothermia, you need the bed more than I do.” His hand moves from your cheek to pat the top of your head as you huff, letting Seungcheol guide you to his room where. You can’t help but feel guilty as you watch him rummage through his closet before emerging with a victorious smile and a large T-shirt. 

“Wear this- before you argue,” He cuts off your protests before they can even start, “think of it as me not wanting dirty clothes on my bed and, as much as I would love to see it, you are way too cold to be sleeping in panties tonight.” 

Your face flushes as you grab the shirt he holds out to you, avoiding his gaze. “Thank you Seungcheol. Really. I’m sorry that you have to do this, but I really do appreciate it.” Glancing up at him, you watch as his teasing smirk melts into something different, softer.

“Don’t apologize. I’ll always be here if you need help with something, what are neighbors for?” walking towards the door, Seungcheol looks back at you one more time, “I normally wouldn’t let you sleep without at least having a warm bath to stop a cold, but I think you’d pass out in the shower if I tried. Get a good night’s rest, yeah? I’ll see you in the morning.” And even after he leaves the room, his warmth stays, the soft gaze he’d given you burned into your eyelids as you drift to sleep.

—

The scent of coffee and bacon wakes you from deep sleep. For a second, you're disoriented, the unfamiliar surroundings causing a brief panic before switching to embarrassment as memories of last night flood back. You're in Seungcheol's bed, wrapped in his sheets that smell faintly of pinewood and something uniquely him.

Sunlight streams through gaps in the curtains, painting stripes across the room. You stretch away the ache in your muscles from the cold and stress of yesterday, tugging the oversized shirt Seungcheol lent you down as you swing your legs over the side of the bed.

Your bare feet hit cool hardwood, as you shuffle towards the bedroom door, following the enticing smell of breakfast. In the kitchen, Seungcheol stands at the stove, his broad back to you.

As you approach, Seungcheol turns, spatula in hand, and flashes you a heart-stopping smile. "Morning. How are you feeling?"

You run a hand through your sleep-mussed hair, suddenly self-conscious. "Better, thanks to you. I can't believe that happened."

"Hey, don’t worry about it," he chuckles. "I figured you could use the rest. Coffee?"

You nod gratefully while he pours you a steaming mug. Seungcheol plates up eggs, bacon, and toast. The domesticity of the scene isn't lost to you - here you are, in his clothes, sharing breakfast in his kitchen. It feels dangerously intimate.

"Thanks," you murmur, accepting the plate he hands you. "You really didn't have to do all this."

Seungcheol waves off your gratitude as he settles across from you at the small kitchen table. "It's no trouble. Besides, I couldn't let you face the day on an empty stomach after last night."

You take a bite of the perfectly crispy bacon, trying not to moan at how good it tastes. As you eat in companionable silence, you can't help but sneak glances at Seungcheol. His hair is slightly mussed from sleep, a slight sleepy haze in his eyes. He looks softer like this, less like the polished streamer and more like the boy you’d seen in college.

"So," he says after a while, setting down his mug. "Want to tell me what happened last night?"

You hesitate, your fork hovering over your plate. What were you supposed to say? That you had been thinking of him non-stop for the last 24 hours? That you were a mess whose sense of direction was almost as bad as your work-life balance? That you'd been caught in what was arguably one of your worst moments, by none other than the main cause of your original turmoil?

He seems to sense your internal conflict because he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. His tone softens, playful but not prying. "You don’t have to, y'know. I just figured you might want to talk about it. Seems like you had a long day, I won’t judge."

You sigh, feeling the weight of exhaustion creep back in. "It’s not even that interesting," you start, avoiding his eyes. " It was just... one thing after another. Fell asleep on the bus, could’t call a taxi caus’ my phone died, forgot my keys at work; Honestly, the world was conspiring against me the whole day, I swear."

Seungcheol hums thoughtfully, swirling the last of his coffee in his mug. "Sounds rough. No one likes walking around in the freezing cold with no way to get inside. It was a good thing I went out when I did, maybe it’s a sign I should take more midnight snack runs."

You laugh softly and promptly ignore the stuttering of your heart, "Hopefully it won’t happen again," you admit. "And… either way it’s not exactly something I want to bother you with."

He raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "You weren’t a bother at all. Besides, I think helping you out is the bare minimum of what neighbors should do, don’t you?"

Neighbor. The word feels heavier than it should, he’s right; all you are to him is a neighbor, nothing more nothing less. You try to play off the feeling of your heart dropping into your shoes, shaking your head with a small laugh. "I have to admit, I’d never have guessed you were the knight-in-shining-armour type. At-night-in-UnderArmour maybe, but this is unexpected"

Seungcheol grins, his dimples flashing. "Hey now, don’t let the frat guy rep fool you. I’ve always been nice."

You laugh at that, the tension in your chest loosening. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

As he rinses the dishes, you take a moment to look around his apartment. It’s cozy, a mix of modern furniture and personal touches—a stack of books on the coffee table, a framed photo of what looks like his old frat brothers on a shelf, and a ridiculous number of gaming peripherals on his desk. It suits him, you think, the same way his easy smile and annoyingly perfect hair suit him.

"So," Seungcheol says, drying his hands before turning to face you. "Any plans today? Or are you planning to crash and catch up on sleep?"

"Work," you groan, already dreading the thought of going back to the office. "I have to deal with a report I butchered yesterday."

"Rough," he says, leaning against the counter. "Tell you what—after work, if you’re up for it, I’ll make dinner. Consider it part two of my neighborly duties."

The offer catches you off guard, but you manage to nod despite the sudden flutter in your stomach. "You don’t have to keep feeding me, you know."

Seungcheol just shrugs, a teasing glint in his eye. "I know. But I want to. Plus, you owe me. You cried on my shirt last night, remember?"

Your jaw drops, heat rushing to your face as you groan. "I did not—!"

"You totally did," he interrupts with a laugh, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. "It’s okay, though. It’s a good story."

"You’d better not go spreading this around mister." you say, pointing a warning finger at him. But the smile tugging at your lips betrays you, and Seungcheol just grins wider.

"Hmm I make no promises madam."

As you gather your things and prepare to face the day, Seungcheol’s warm gaze and easy laughter lingers in your mind, making you feel giddy and guilty at the same time. And as you step out of his apartment, you realize you’re already looking forward to the evening.

—

The day drags on slower than you’d like, each hour feeling like an eternity between the mountain of emails, the endless meetings, and the painstakingly slow process of fixing your stupid report.

By the time you get back to your apartment (with your keys this time, thank god), exhaustion is settled deep in your bones. You drop your bag by the door and kick off your shoes, barely making it to the couch before collapsing in a heap. The thought of getting up, even to change out of your work clothes, feels like an impossible task.

A soft knock at your door jolts you out of your half-asleep state. For a split second, you consider ignoring it, but then you remember Seungcheol’s offer(demand?) from this morning. With a groan, you drag yourself up and shuffle to the door, opening it to find him standing there, a grin on his face and a grocery bag in hand.

"Thought you might be too tired to make it over," he says, holding up the bag. "So, I figured I’d bring the dinner to you."

You blink at him, caught off guard. "You… didn’t have to do that," you mumble, though the smell wafting from the bag has your stomach growling in protest.

He laughs, brushing past you into the apartment. "I know. But you seemed like you had a long day, and I wasn’t about to let you skip a proper meal. Plus, I’m not sure I trust you to make anything edible in your state."

"Hey!" you protest, following him into the kitchen. "I’m perfectly capable of cooking, thank you very much."

He raises an eyebrow, eyes scanning your kitchen clearly unconvinced. "Sure you are. When was the last time you had something that wasn’t instant ramen or takeout?"

You open your mouth to argue, but the words die on your tongue because… well, the empty takeout boxes in your kitchen speak enough. Instead, you cross your arms and huff. "Fine. You win. But only because I’m too tired to argue."

"Glad we’re on the same page," he says, already unpacking the bag and setting up in your kitchen like he owns the place. You watch as he moves with practiced ease, pulling out ingredients and utensils like he’s done this a million times before.

It’s oddly comforting, watching him work. The kitchen feels warmer, cozier, with him in it. You find yourself leaning against the counter, a small smile tugging at your lips as he chats about his day—about how his coworker accidentally sent an email to the entire company, or how he nearly slipped on ice outside his building.

Before you know it, the smell of something delicious fills the air, and your stomach growls loudly, earning a laugh from Seungcheol.

"I guess you’re hungry," he teases, sliding a plate in front of you. 

You roll your eyes but can’t hide your grin as you pick up your fork. "If this is bad, I’m never letting you live it down."

He smirks, leaning against the counter as he watches you take your first bite. The flavors hit your tongue, and you can’t help the satisfied hum that escapes you.

"Okay, fine," you admit, reluctantly. "This is… not bad."

"Sure, not bad. Dare you say good?" he says, his grin widening. "You’re welcome, by the way."

The two of you eat together, the conversation flowing easily. It’s light and playful, with just the right amount of teasing to keep you on your toes. By the time the plates are empty, you realize you’re smiling more than you have in days.

As he helps you clean up, you find yourself glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. There’s something about the way he moves, the way he laughs, that makes your chest feel a little too tight and your thoughts a little too scattered.

"Thanks for this," you say softly as he dries the last plate. "I really needed it."

He looks at you, his expression softening. "Anytime," he says simply. "That’s what neighbors are for, right?"

Neighbor. There it is again, that word. But this time, it doesn’t feel as heavy. Because maybe, just maybe, it’s not about what you are to each other now, but about what you could be.

—

A few days pass in a blurry haze. Seungcheol’s number was now saved in your phone, his occasional texts making you more giddy than you’d like to admit. The two of you occasionally see each other in the hallway, tonight he knocks on your door with food in hand, claiming he made too much and offering you some. You invite him in to share the meal (you’re just being a good neighbor), laughing and joking around as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And honestly, it kind of was. 

Seungcheol insists on brewing you a cup of tea before he leaves, claiming it’s the perfect way to wind down after a long day. You let him, mostly because you’re too tired to argue but also because, well… It's nice having him here.

He chats while the kettle heats up, leaning casually against the counter like he belongs in your kitchen. The way he speaks, the rhythm of his voice, fills the quiet space in a way that feels natural—like he’s not just filling silence but adding something to it.

When he hands you the steaming mug, his fingers brush yours briefly, and you try not to overthink the spark of warmth that lingers long after he pulls away.

"So, any big plans tomorrow?" he asks, settling into a chair at your kitchen table. It feels oddly domestic, like this is something the two of you do all the time. You shake your head, cradling the mug in your hands. "Just work. Again. Though I’m praying for fewer disasters this time."

He chuckles, resting his chin in his hand as he looks at you. "Sounds like you could use a break. Maybe take the weekend off, do something fun."

You snort softly. “Like what, go clubbing or something? Not really my vibe."

"Doesn’t have to be that extreme," he says, grinning. "It could be something simple. A walk in the park, binge-watching a terrible reality show, or trying out that café down the street you keep mentioning but never go to."

You raise an eyebrow at him. "Are you suggesting I take myself on a date?"

"Hey, self-care is important," he says with a shrug, though the teasing glint in his eye suggests he’s enjoying himself. "But if you need a plus-one, I might be available."

The words hang in the air for a moment, and you’re not entirely sure how to respond. Is he joking? Probably. But there’s a softness in his expression that makes you wonder if there’s more to it than that.

"I’ll think about it," you say finally, trying to sound casual. "But don’t get your hopes up, Cheol. I’m not easy to impress."

He smirks, leaning back in his chair. "So it’s Cheol now, huh? Don’t apologize- I like it." he once again practically reads your thoughts, “And here, once you’re done thinking, let me know, yeah? Or in case you get locked out again.” Seungcheol slides over his phone with a new contact open as you roll your eyes, typing your number in anyways.

It’s late by the time he finally leaves, the mug you used now washed and drying on the counter. As you close the door behind him, your apartment feels quieter than it did before. Not in a bad way— the kind of quiet that lets you think. You find yourself replaying the evening in your head: his laugh, the way he somehow managed to turn your chaotic kitchen into a space that felt warm and inviting, the way his gaze didn’t leave you once when the two of you talked.

Shaking your head, you force yourself to focus on getting ready for bed. It’s nothing, you tell yourself. He’s probably just trying to make some new friends in the neighborhood.

But as you crawl under the covers, your mind drifts back to his earlier word, "If you need a plus-one, I might be available." The thought lingers, a soft thread of warmth that wraps around your chest as you grab your phone, typing a message before you can change your mind. Your fingers hover over the screen for a moment before you close your eyes and press send.

You: So how about that date?

The text felt heavier as the three little dots that blink back at you in reply. You hold your breath, heartbeat thudding in your ears.

When his text pops up on your phone, a shy smile automatically spreads across your face as you read it.

Seungcheol: How about Saturday?

Seungcheol: I’ll plan it—just be ready by 10.

The squeal you let out could rival one of a teenage girl on her first date as you kick your feet giddily in bed. Fuck, you were already down so bad. When you hear a chuckle through the wall your phone drops to the floor with a thud as it buzzes again..

Seungcheol: Careful, I might start to hope you’re looking forward to seeing me

This arrogant correct motherfucker. Your fingers type a quick response, trying to save whatever dignity you have left.

You: Saw a spider

You: Anyways where should I meet you?

His response makes your eyes roll with endearment annoyance.

Seungcheol: I think your memories are getting mixed up, spider was what everyone called Hoshi, not me. And no spoilers, just dress comfortably.

—

Two days later, Saturday morning rolls around, and you’re standing in front of your mirror, staring at your outfit for the third time. He said casual, so why are you frantically searching for the perfect attire? 

It’s fine, you think, not over the top. He doesn’t know what your closet looks like anyways, for all he knows you always wear this kind of clothes.

Your cozy beige sweater is paired with jeans and ankle boots, casual but still nice. Your makeup is light, natural. 

A knock on your door makes your heart jolt. Grabbing your bag, you take a steadying breath before opening it.

Seungcheol stands there, hands casually tucked in his jacket pocket, a grin already spreading across his face. His eyes flick up and down your body once, twice, hitching in some areas before finally settling on your eyes.

“You-” He clears his throat, “You look really good.” His eyes flick away from yours briefly, you swear you hear him mutter something along the lines of too good but it must be your imagination, flustered by how the man in front of you seems almost shy.

“Thanks,” you reply, giving him a similar once over to the one he’d subjected you to earlier. 

Black cargo pants with a dark denim jacket (that somehow looks warm) over a white graphic T. The outfit might look sloppy on someone else, but Seungcheol makes it look like he should be on a runway, the clothes draping over him perfectly as though everything was custom-made for him. 

“You don’t look half bad yourself.”

“You really are hard to impress huh?” he teases. “Lucky for you I’m always happy to deliver. Ready to go?”

The two of you walk to the parking outside as you chat, getting into his annoyingly nice car. You can’t help but wonder where he’s taking you as the roads out the window blur. No matter how hard you try to pry the information out of him, he doesn’t budge. A lesson in patience, he tells you. When the car finally stops, you look around, surprised– an amusement park.

“Seriously?” you ask, poorly trying to hide your smile as you stare at him.

“What? Too childish for you princess?” he says with a sly grin. You just hum in faux indignation, giving up on any attempt at hiding your smile.

The park is alive with bright lights, lively music; the smell of popcorn and funnel cakes wafting through the chilly air. You wander through the attractions, playing a few games and riding the tamer rides to start. At one of the stands, Seungcheol picks up two pairs of animal ears, holding them where you can’t see. 

“Pick a side.” he states with a sparkle in his eyes, hands behind his back.

You roll your eyes at his antics and do as he asks.

“Good choice,” he said, handing you a pair of floppy bunny ears, putting the other set- wolf ears- on his own head. “How do I look?”

You snort. “Ridiculous.”

“Come on princess, I think yours suit you perfectly,” he teased, tugging gently on one of the ears now perched on your head. He drags you over to one of the photo-booths scattered around the park and pulls you inside as you laugh.

His arm is wrapped around you, who instinctively leans into his shoulder as the screen counts down. After some more silly shots, the last timer runs on the screen. The two of you are posing when you impulsively turn your head and press a kiss to his cheek as the flash goes off. Before you can try and see Seungcheols expression you quickly get out of the booth, crouching down to wait for the photos to print. A shadow surrounds you but you ignore it, grabbing the two photo stips and standing up, actively avoiding looking at the man behind you until you feel strong arms circle around your waist.

“Don’t get shy on me now, princess.” Seungcheol’s voice is low and quiet, his breath tickling you neck. He gently turns you around in his arms, forcing you to face him. When you do, you can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips.

His eyebrows raise, expression soft and questioning as you raise your hand to his cheek. “You’ve uh.. Got a little something on here.” Before you can wipe off the lipstick mark a hand grabbing your wrist stops you. Seungcheol just hums, the smile on his face growing as he responds. “Leave it there, I like it.”

You look away, flustered, “It might stain.”

His smile only grows further as his hands squeeze your waist reassuringly, “Even better.”

A few more hours fly by in a blur of laughter, shared glances, and the occasional screaming as you ride a roller coaster. As the day winds down, Seungcheol leads you toward the Ferris wheel.

“Ending with a Ferris wheel ride at sunset huh?” you tease with a smirk. “Classic.”

He chuckles. “You’re smiling, so I think it’s worth being cheesy.”

Your face flushes as you step into the car with him, the soft glow of the park lights casting everything in a dreamy haze. As the wheel lifts you higher, you take in the moment—simple, sweet, and perfect.

The car sways gently as it begins to ascend, the world growing smaller beneath your feet. Seungcheol leans back in the seat across from you, his arm casually draped across the edge, as though the intimacy of the situation didn’t seem to bother him at all. Meanwhile, your heart is racing, the memories of the day making it difficult to keep your composure as you keep your eyes trained on the park as it gets smaller and smaller.

“Nice view,” the man across from you murmurs. When you sneak a glance at him, his eyes aren’t on the horizon—they’re focused on you, his soft expression making your breath hitch.

You bite the inside of your cheek, turning to face the window again. “Yeah, it’s beautiful,” you agree, your voice coming out shakier than intended. The warmth of the sunset casts a golden glow across the park below, lights beginning to twinkle as the day faded.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Seungcheol shift slightly closer. “You’ve been smiling all day,” he comments. “Do I get some credit for that, or was it just the funnel cakes?”

You laugh, turning back to meet his gaze. “Oh definitely the funnel cake, But you’re decent company too, I guess.”

He grins, leaning forward just slightly. “Decent? Come on, you can do better than that.”

You raise a brow, trying to hold your ground despite how his closeness makes you feel like melting into the seat. “Don’t push your luck.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the distant hum of the park and the creak of the Ferris wheel as it carries you higher. His expression softens, and he tilts his head slightly, as though weighing his next words carefully. “You know,” he starts, his voice low, “I wasn’t kidding when I said I hoped you were looking forward to seeing me.”

Your breath catches, and you search his face for any trace of teasing, but his expression is nothing but sincerity with a tinge of nervousness. “Maybe I was,” you admit quietly.

His smile widens, dimples returning with full force as the confidence that had momentarily wavered in his eyes returns. “I’m glad. Maybe I was hoping to see you too.”

The car comes to a stop at the top of the wheel, leaving the two of you suspended in the sky. The view is breathtaking, but all you can focus on is the way Seungcheol’s eyes shine, on the curve of his nose, where your lips are stamped on his cheek, how soft and welcoming his own lips look. His fingers brush your own and your heart is pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice smooth and steady, as if sensing your hesitation.

You nod, your gaze flicking between his eyes and the hand now gently covering yours. “Yeah. Just… you make me nervous.” As soon as the words leave your mouth you want to jump out of the ferris wheel.

He chuckles softly, the sound halting your thoughts. “Ditto.” he remarks and you swear your heart stops as he leans closer, his voice barely above a whisper. His face is inches from yours, the space between you charged with tension. You could feel the warmth of his breath mixing with your own, the weight of his presence grounding you and making your head spin all at once.

And then, as though the universe decided it hated you, the car jolts slightly, the Ferris wheel beginning its descent. The tension clears, and you both laugh as it dissolves into something softer and more familiar. When you both reach the ground, Seungcheol offers you a hand as you step out of the gondola, not letting go until the two of you reach his car. 

Seungcheol opens the passenger door for you, his hand lingering on the frame as you step in. He waits until you’re settled, closing the door with a gentle thud before walking around to the driver’s side. As he slides into the seat, the soft click of the doors locking echoes in the quiet night.

The drive home is comfortable, the radio humming a mellow tune as the city lights streak past the windows. Neither of you speak much, but for once you don’t mind the silence, it’s comfortable, as if the events of the day are still settling in your minds. 

When the two of you finally arrive at your adjacent apartments, he turns to look at you.

“So,” he begins, his voice carrying that familiar teasing lilt, “did I live up to your standards of being ‘decent company’?”

You roll your eyes, biting back a grin. “I guess you weren’t terrible,” you reply, feigning nonchalance.

He chuckles, shaking his head as he leans against the wall. “I’ll take it. Progress is progress.”

The silence that follows isn’t awkward—it’s heavy with the weight of the day, the laughter, the quiet moments, and the words that neither of you seems quite ready to say.

“Well,” you finally say, your hand moving to the door handle, “thanks for today. I really needed it.”

Seungcheol doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the photo strip from earlier at the amusement park. He holds it out to you, his fingers brushing yours when you take it.

You glance down at the photos—the silly poses, the bunny ears, the surprised look on his face as you kissed his cheek—and your chest tightens in the best way possible. “Thanks,” you murmur, your voice almost lost in the stillness.

When you look back up, he’s watching you, his expression unreadable. He shifts, fingers lightly grazing yours.

“Hey,” he says quietly, his voice steadier than you feel. “If you’re up for it… we should do this again sometime.”

Your breath catches, and for a moment, all you can do is nod. “Yeah,” you manage, your voice soft. “I’d like that too.”

His smile grows, and for a split second, you think he might lean in, but instead, he squeezes your hand gently before pulling back. “Get some rest.” he says, his tone light but his eyes lingering on yours.

As you open your door, the apartment inside feels emptier than normal. You pause, glancing back at Seungcheol.

“Text me when you’re free,” he says, his grin now fully teasing. “Or, you know, just knock on the wall or something.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you softly close the door. Your heart races as you lean against it, the photo strip still clutched in your hand. You glance down at the images, your smile widening as you run your thumb over the glossy surface.

You were screwed—completely and utterly fucked—but for the first time in a long while, you didn’t mind one bit.

—

Jeonghan is late again, you’d think he’d learn to use his time better on Wednesdays but some things never change, you suppose. You sit across from Hao, sipping on your coffee as he eyes you suspiciously.

“So,” he begins, placing his tea on the table, his voice carrying that signature teasing lilt. “You went on a date.”

You nearly choke, coughing into your hand as you set your drink down. “Excuse me? How do you know that?”

He just smirks, leaning back in his chair with an air of triumph. “I was just guessing but you just confirmed it.”

Your jaw drops at his audacity. “That’s not fair—you tricked me!”

“Hardly,” he replies, stirring his tea with mock innocence. “You’re just too easy to read. So was it good?”

Before you can fire back, a familiar voice cuts in, smooth and teasing. “What’s this about a date?”

You turn to see Jeonghan strolling toward your table, his blazer slung over one shoulder and his hair annoyingly perfect, as if he’d stepped out of a magazine, not his office. He grins as he pulls out a chair to join you.

“Oh, great,” you mutter, sinking into your seat. “Now it’s both of you.”

Jeonghan raises a brow, clearly delighted. “Both of us? This sounds like a story. Go on, I’m listening.”

Minghao smirks, pointing at you with his spoon. “She went on a date.”

“Stop saying it like that,” you shoot back, narrowing your eyes at him.

Jeonghan’s eyes light up as he leans forward, resting his chin in his hand. “Ooh, let me guess, the new neighbor you told us about?”

You sigh, knowing you’re outnumbered. “Okay, okay fine. Yes, with the neighbor, and it was nice. That’s all you’re getting.”

“Nice?” Jeonghan repeats, feigning disappointment. “That’s all? Come on, you can do better than that. You haven’t been on a date in god-knows how long and all you can say is ‘nice’?”

“Why are you even here?” you snap, though you couldn’t help the laugh that slipped through.

Minghao tilts his head thoughtfully. “Was it ‘okay’ good or ‘planning another date’ good?”

“I’m betting it’s the second one.” Jeonghan said, his voice lilting. 

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands. “Why do I tell either of you anything?”

Jeonghan flashes his signature cheshire smile, nudging your arm. “Because we’re your favorite. Now, come on. Was there a spark? A magical moment? Did you trip over something and land in his arms? Don’t leave us hanging.”

“Nothing like that, you dork.” you respond, trying to hide your smile but failing miserably. “It was just... fun. Exciting. Better than I thought it would be.” Jeonghan and Minghao exchange a look, one of those silent, unspoken conversations that only the three of you could understand.

“Definitely planning date two,” Minghao says, deadpan.

You groan again, but the warmth of their teasing—playful and supportive—makes it impossible to be annoyed. “I hate you guys,” you mumble, though your laugh gives you away.

“And yet,” Jeonghan teases, raising an imaginary glass, “you keep us around. To your nice, hot neighbor for finally getting you out of your apartment!”

Minghao raises his tea to join in. “Cheers to that.”

Rolling your eyes, you clink your mug against theirs. “You’re both insufferable.”

“For sure,” Minghao says with a smile, “that’s why you love us.”

—

Weeks pass in a blur of updating your nosy friends and texting Seungcheol, soon enough you find yourself looking forward to his messages, giddy feelings replaced with warmth and comfort. The banter is light but always at the edge of something more lingering between every word.

Cheol: So u finally going to admit that you miss me?You: I don’t wanna lie to you Cheol.Cheol: You say that now, but wait until this weekend. You’ll be begging for more.You: Oh? What if I have plans this weekend? You know, being busy and all that.Cheol: Then I guess I’ll have to cancel my dinner reservations :(You: We can't have that can we?

The next message is an address and the words: 7pm

Saturday evening comes faster than you expected, and when you glance at the clock, the realization hits that you’re running behind. You rush to get ready, a mix of excitement and nerves churning in your stomach as you pick out an outfit matching the nice restaurant Seungcheol had sent you. You want to show him a side of yourself that’s more than you coming home or leaving for work.

You choose a dark red dress that hugs your curves in all the right places. The neckline dips just low enough, an elegant slit running up the side. Paired with black heels and a sleek necklace dangling almost dangerously low, it feels just right. You spend a little extra time on makeup, defining each feature and topping it off with a red lip that matches your dress. By the time you’re finished, you feel more confident than you have in a while.

A knock at your door sends a rush of adrenaline through your veins.You check the mirror one last time before stepping toward the door, trying to keep your composure.

When the door opens Seungcheol just stands there for a second, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. The intensity of the gaze almost has you feeling self-conscious, until you see the way his eyes take on a slightly glazed quality instead of the usual teasing glint.

“Damn,” he finally breathes out, his voice low and shaky. “You look… wow.”

You bite back your smile, feeling your cheeks heat up at his gaze. “Thanks,” you say, trying to act nonchalant, but failing miserably.

He steps closer, his gaze still lingering on you, and you can almost feel magnetic pull in the space between you. “I… ” His eyes flick down to your heels and then back up to your face, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “I might need to take a second to adjust.”

You chuckle, feeling the warmth of his hands burning your hips through the fabric of your dress, “Well, would you look at that? Choi Seungcheol is actually tongue-tied.”

Seungcheol’s grin widens, “How could I not be speechless when you look like that?”, he asks before taking your hand and leading you to his car. The ride is short, but this time, it feels different. The air between you is thick with anticipation, neither of you speaking much—words feel unnecessary when the moment speaks for itself.

When you arrive at the restaurant, the valet greets Seungcheol like an old friend, and you can’t help but notice the way he carries himself—confident, composed, like he belongs in this world. He guides you through the entrance, a small smile on his face as gently takes your hand.

The restaurant has an air of quiet elegance, the kind that feels effortlessly luxurious. The lighting is soft, casting a golden glow on the crisp white table-cloths, the flickering candlelight adding a comforting warmth. The faint murmur of conversation fills the background, but you feel as if the two of you are in your own little world.

Seungcheol pulls your chair out for you as you sit, and you can't help but feel a little overwhelmed by how natural he makes everything feel, despite the grandeur of the setting. You settle into your seat, your hand instinctively resting on the edge of the table, your fingers brushing the silverware as you glance around. The atmosphere is luxurious, yes, but there’s something reassuring about the way Seungcheol carries himself, like he’s right at home here.

Once the menus are set in front of you, Seungcheol doesn’t hesitate. He scans the offerings with a casual air but glances over at you as you study the menu in your hands. "Don't let the fancy setting fool you. The food here is surprisingly good. I’ve been here more than once.” he says, his voice smooth and low, the confidence he carries in all things evident in the casual mention.

You chuckle, glancing up at him. “Take a lot of your dates here, do you?”

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, that signature smirk tugging at his lips. “Only one.” 

You can’t help the shy smile that spreads across your face, “Who would have known you’re secretly a softy.”

He leans forward slightly, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret. “I’ve got layers, princess. Lots of layers.”

The way he says it, so effortlessly confident, causes your stomach to flutter a lot little. You take a sip of your water, trying not to let him see how much he’s affecting you. “I’m sure. I bet you’re the life of the party at places like this.”

Seungcheol smirks and leans back in his chair, clearly pleased with your reaction. “I can be. But I also know when to appreciate the quiet nights. Sometimes it’s better to enjoy the little things.” His gaze shifts to meet yours then, a quiet intensity in his eyes. It’s a subtle change, but one that makes your heart race.

You swallow, suddenly acutely aware of his gaze. You glance at the menu again, though you haven’t truly registered anything on it. “I’ll take your word for it,” you manage, trying to keep your voice steady.

When the waiter returns to take your order, Seungcheol speaks for both of you, his choices seemingly effortless. You take the time to fully appreciate the man in front of you; the way his red tie is the same hue as your dress, how his white button up stretches across his chest giving an outline of a fit physique further supported in the way his sleeves strain against his arms. 

Seungcheol clears his throat, and you realize you’ve been caught red-handed, so you decide to just shrug because yeah, he’s hot. There’s something more serious about the way Seungcheol watches you now, his eyes tracing the curve of your neck, the way the candlelight plays in your hair. It’s as if the energy in the room has shifted, becoming a little more personal.

“I have to admit,” he says after a long pause, his voice softer than before, “I’m having a really good time.”

You laugh, but it’s not from nervousness. It’s a genuine sound. “You’ve been teasing me nonstop for days. I’d hope you at least had a good time after all that hard work.”

His lips curve into that familiar teasing smile. “I’ve been doing more than teasing. You just don’t realize it yet.” He tilts his head slightly. “I’m glad you came, though. Really.”

The words, simple as they are, catch you off guard. It’s one thing for him to be flirty, but for him to show this side of him, this quiet sincerity... you weren’t prepared for it.

Before you can respond, the drinks arrive—a crisp white wine for you, a rich red for him. The clink of glass as it’s set on the table draws you back into the moment. Seungcheol raises his glass, his eyes locked on yours. "To good company," he says, his tone earnest but playful.

You smile and clink your glass against his, the material cool against your fingers. “To good company,” you repeat, your voice just as soft.

The conversation flows easy after that, not forced, but natural. He talks about his favorite restaurants, his travels, and how he’s surprisingly fond of quiet nights. You find yourself opening up more than you intended, sharing stories about your childhood, what drives you, what you love most about your work. He listens intently, his gaze never wavering, his attention fully on you. As if every word matters to him, every sentence is important.

It’s hard not to notice how his gaze shifts from playful to something more thoughtful as you speak, his eyes locking on yours with an unreadable emotion that makes your breath catch every time. You don’t want to admit it, but his attention feels like a constant pull on your thoughts, something that you can’t seem to escape.

When your meal arrives, the soft clink of silverware against the fine china is the only sound for a moment. You both pause, then Seungcheol leans back slightly, eyeing your plate with a mischievous grin. “You’re not going to finish that, are you?” he teases. “I’ll be happy to help.”

You raise an eyebrow, shooting him a playful glance. “I think I’ll manage just fine.”

The two of you laugh easily over the shared dish, the comfortable intimacy of it all settling around you like a familiar blanket. It’s rare to feel so at ease with someone in this kind of setting, but with Seungcheol, it’s effortless.

At some point during dessert, Seungcheol reaches across the table and gently runs his thumb along your hand. The motion is slow, deliberate, and for the first time, he’s not teasing. His touch is softer, and his eyes—god those eyes—hold a sincerity that has you feeling like you’re the only person in the room–in the whole world even.

“You know,” he murmurs, “I’m really glad you agreed to come out with me tonight.”

You hum, feeling a flutter deep in your chest. “So you’ve mentioned.” 

After a moment you respond again, “I am too.”

You both sit in silence for a moment, the tension between you now wrapping around your mind and dulling the outside world. The soft clink of glasses, the quiet hum of the restaurant, the distant murmur of conversations... it all fades into the background.

Finally, after a long moment of simply looking at each other, Seungcheol stands and walks around to your side of the table, offering his hand. “Let’s go,” he says, his voice low but steady.

By the time you’re at the door to your apartment, the tension between the two of you is almost suffocating. You invite him inside, and Seungcheol takes a deep breath, “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself back.”

And when you lean close to his ear and tell him then don’t, it’s like floodgates open. Seungcheol shuts the door behind him, crowding you against it as he leans close to you, hands finding your hips and breath warm against your ear. “Do you even know what you’ve been doing to me all night?” he asks, voice so low it's almost a growl.

You smile, hands trailing up his torso to wrap around his neck, “I guess I clean up well.”

Seungcheol chuckles darkly, experimentally squeezing your hips,  “Too bad I’m gonna get you all dirty again.”

When he tilts your chin up to meet his lips, you expect the kiss to be hungry, as desperate as he has you feeling, instead Seungcheol kisses you slowly, tenderly with a sweetness rivaling ambrosia. Your arms wind themselves around his neck, pressing yourself harder against him as if even a second apart would be painful because, quite frankly, that’s how kissing him felt. He takes his time to savor each brush of your lips on his, each sigh that you breathe into his mouth.

Seungcheol looks absolutely ruined. His pupils are blown out, hair messy with your hands in it and red lipstick smeared on his swollen lips. You’re sure you don’t look much different, as the two of you crash back together at the same time. This kiss is how you expected the first to be, hungry, desperate, and hard.

Even when your lungs burn for air your lips chase after him when he separates from you, pupils blown out, hair messy, your lipstick smeared across his mouth, Seungcheol looks absolutely ruined. 

The only thing you can hear is breathlessness before you’re tangling your fingers into his hair to crash your lips together again. Seungcheol presses into even more, hands pushing against your door as he intoxicates you once more. The kiss isn’t soft this time, lust taking over and pulling the two of you into each other. His hand moves to your jaw, switching the angle and taking away any last bit of brain function you have because even when kissing you with such passion Seungcheol still isn’t rough with you. He kisses you with a confidence and control that has you whimpering into his lips.

The sound clearly affects him, his tongue prodding at your lips and a small breath leaving him when you open your mouth further. He starts exploring your mouth as his hands move to explore your body, sliding up and down your waist to your thighs, where he squeezes before lifting you up seemingly effortlessly. 

“Your room?” Seungcheol murmurs into your mouth. You break apart from him once again, hands on either side of his face, forehead resting against his. “Same layout as your apartment.” You recall, resuming the kiss once more as he carries you over to your bed, gently setting you down on the edge.

He drinks the breathy sound that leaves your mouth when his fingers find the zipper on your back, slowly drawing it down and caressing each new plane of skin revealed to him. You lift your hips, helping him get the dress fully off your body and thrown somewhere on the floor. You try to pull him in closer to you but Seungcheol is frozen. You wiggle impatiently and he just shakes his head at you, a breathy laugh leaving his kiss swollen lips.

“Be patient baby, let me appreciate you, fuck.” The last word comes from a deep place in his chest, an almost guttural sound as his hands gently trace up your legs, hips, waist, settling just below your dark red lace bra that matches your now discarded dress. He looks at you with an awe equal to that of meeting a deity, as if he’d never seen anything more captivating and never will in this lifetime. His gaze makes you flush because you’re just you, sure you put on a pretty matching set but even then you didn’t think he’d be this into it. You apparently verbalize your thoughts unintentionally because Seungcheol looks up at you once more, this time gaze filled with disbelief.

“Just you? Just you? God, you really don’t know how beautiful you are, do you, princess?” The nickname causes a shiver to go down your spine, his hands gently as they move behind you, unclipping your bra. “So perfect, so pretty for me.” His words are accompanied by his hands slowly massaging your now bare chest before he dives into you, mouth ravishing every inch on your skin as he pulls sounds from you. Your fingers find their way to his hair, tugging when he nips at your skin. After thoroughly stealing your breath his lips start making their way down to where you need him most. His nose presses against your core causing an embarrassingly depraved whimper to leave you.

“Fuck princess, you’re so ready for me,” he says as he pulls your panties away from your body, holding them up for you to see the ruined fabric. You don’t have time to think about them as he starts to leave hot open mouthed kisses on your inner thigh before dipping his tongue ever so slightly into your weeping hole. Your hands tug slightly on his hair and seemingly break whatever resolve he has as he starts to devour you. He knows exactly when to slow down, licking your cunt up and sucking in ways that have your head spinning. Your insides clench around nothing, leaking arousal as his lips wrap around your clit. He drinks all of your juices, his tongue collecting your wetness like water. 

When he focuses his tongue on your hole, prodding timidly inside you as your walls beg to be stretched, your hands tug harshly at his hair, making him moan right into your cunt, as if he’s enjoying the pull of his hair as you use him for your pleasure. Your orgasm approaches at the speed of light, quicker than you’d ever thought a man could pull from you.

You spasm with each swipe of his tongue that gets faster as he notices how close you are. When he decides to focus on teasing your clit, something snaps in you and you come undone on his tongue. 

He practically makes out with your cunt, stretching out your orgasm and making your legs tremble at his sides. You can feel the big smirk across his lips through your pleasure-induced haze. He doesn’t move away even when you start to feel over stimulated, you tug on his hair.

“You can give me one more, right princess?” He looks like something straight out of a porno, mouth covered in you, hair messy between your fingers, how could you possibly resist such a sight, especially when his finger runs up and down your entrance teasingly.

“Please” is all you have to say before he disappears once more between your legs. His fingers start to stretch out your walls, tongue lapping up any juices that escape. The pounding of his fingers inside you drag you close to the edge faster than before, and when his fingers graze one spot you’re seeing stars.

“There, right there fuck Cheol please–” your words get cut off by a breathy moan as he sucks on your clit, vision going blurry as you come on his fingers. When you’re coming down from the high, you watch as he takes said fingers and licks them clean with a groan, “You might just be my new favorite meal, princess.”

Your eyes roll at the comments as you shakily climb to your knees, earning a raised eyebrow from Cheol as you grab his shirt to pull him towards you, “You’re looking way too clothed to be saying that right now.” You mutter, making quick work of his buttons. His laugh turns into a groan when you press a kiss to his neck, sliding his shirt off of him and running your hands across the expanse of his torso. His muscles are firm and defined, and you don’t resist the urge to bend over and softly bite his chest, reveling in the choked sound he makes. His hands grab your head, pulling you into a wet kiss as you pull at his pants and boxers, sliding them down his legs to free his hard cock. As you look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, long, thick, deliciously curved, this man will be the end of you. 

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips. A whimper escapes you, and Seungcheol hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, princess. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he thrusts his hips up, causing your movements to stutter as you gag. “You can take a bit more, yeah?” his question ends with a groan, his fingers tightening on your hair. 

You lower your head further in response, taking in another more of him. His hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair.

“Fuck, just like that baby, want you to choke on it,” his voice is gravely and low, the sound going straight to your core. The tip of his cock hits the back of your throat and your eyes start to water. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure.

“Fuck my throat,” you beg ask, “Please”

A smile dangles on the corner of his lips as he guides himself into your mouth, smirking at how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “Well since you asked so nicely.”

You whimper around him, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. Suddenly he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with a sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. He crashes his lips to yours in response before pulling away suddenly.

His eyes widen as he looks around, suddenly looking frantic, “Shit, condoms. Stay here, I’ll quickly get dressed and run to my–”

“Are you clean?”

Seungcheol’s eyes go wide at your suggestion before slowly nodding, “I got tested last month, you’re not suggesting…” His voice trails off.

Have you ever let anyone hit it raw? Absolutely not. Did you have the patience for him to go to his apartment and grab condoms? Also absolutely not.

“I’m on birth control, clean, and way too fucking horny for you to be anywhere except inside me.” You state blankly. He shakes his head in astonishment before climbing on top of you, kissing you once more. 

“God, you’re perfect.” he sighs, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks at you one more time for approval. “Ready?”

“Please— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head slides inside you, eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. He barely pulls out before fucking into you with a little more force.  “Shit, you’re so tight, fuck.”

“Cheol please,” you gasp, not quite sure what you're asking for when you latch onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. You’ve never felt this full in your life as Seungcheol waits for you to adjust, pussy spasming around him in ways that make his eyes roll back. When you give him the okay he pulls out slowly, so you can feel every vein as it drags on your walls before he fucks back into you.

His pace starts to get faster and the sounds from both of you sound straight from a porno, but you don’t care because all you can think about is how good his dick feels inside you, how full you feel. From this position, you can see the way his face contorts in pleasure, brows furrowed and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips and sucks hard. “Fuck princess, you’re so perfect shit– pretty pussy made for me, huh?”

“For you,” you pant, thoughts reduced to just the feeling of him inside you. “All for you Cheol.”

His mouth curves into a soft smile as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Seugcheol’s hand slides down to grasp your hip, squeezing the soft skin and pulling you harder against him, impossibly closer. 

“You’re perfect princess, my perfect pretty baby,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he repeats, more to himself than to you, voice strained as he tries to hold himself back, chasing your release before his own.

The pressure inside you builds up, tightening, and you’re sure you look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, but the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Cheol, I’m—” 

He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you baby, let go for me. I’ll take care of you,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall (thank god his room is the only one next to yours). Your body obeys him, a gast tearing through you as you moan Seungcheols name like a prayer. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, fucking you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, his expression as wrecked as you feel. “Tell me where—.”

“Inside.”

“Shit, are you sure?”

“Fill me up Cheol, please. Want it so bad.”

He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. He buries himself inside you, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls. He ruts against you, his body trembling against yours before he collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms and kissing you gently. You almost cry when he slips out of you, hating the feeling of being empty as he finds your bathroom and returns with a towel to clean you up, eventually lulling you to sleep.

—

The first thing you register when you wake up is warmth— you soft sheets tangled around your limbs, the lingering scent of cologne woven into the fabric. The second thing is weight, the steady rise and fall of a chest beneath your cheek, an arm draped around your waist, fingers splayed possessively over your hip.

Your eyes flutter open, and for a moment, you’re disoriented. The golden morning light filters through the curtains, casting lazy patterns across the room, but it takes another second for reality to catch up.

Seungcheol.

His presence is unmistakable, the solid warmth of him anchoring you even before you tilt your head up to look at him. His face is relaxed in sleep, soft in a way you don’t think you’ve seen before. His lashes rest against his cheeks, lips slightly parted, one hand still gripping your waist as if unconsciously keeping you close .

You take a slow breath, careful not to wake him just yet, allowing yourself the luxury of watching him like this. The confidence he always carries, the sharp smirks and teasing remarks—none of it is present in this moment. Right now, he’s just Seungcheol.

Your fingers move instinctively, tracing the curve of his nose, the contour of his lips. His grip on your waist tightens slightly in response, and you hear the low, raspy sound of his voice.

“Mmm.” A deep inhale, then a groggy mumble. “It’s too early.”

You laugh softly, then for a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your breathing, the quiet of the morning stretching between you. His fingers skim along your spine absentmindedly, tracing patterns into your skin. It’s dangerously intimate, this kind of quiet closeness, and you find yourself holding your breath as you wait for him to say something.

When he finally does, his voice is softer than before. “Did you sleep well?”

You nod against him. “Yeah. You?”

His thumb brushes over your hip, slow and deliberate. “Best sleep I’ve had in a while.”

There’s something unspoken in his words, something that lingers between the two of you, but neither of you address it. Not yet. Instead, you stay like this for a while longer, wrapped in each other. Eventually, though, reality has to creep back in. You sigh, shifting slightly. “We should probably get up.”

Seungcheol groans dramatically, pulling you tighter against him. “Or we could just stay like this.”

You laugh, pushing at his chest again, this time with more force. “You have things to do, and I—”

“—have to stay here and cuddle me,” he finishes smoothly, peeking one eye open again and giving you a peck on the lips. “Sounds like the perfect plan, right?”

You roll your eyes but don’t immediately pull away, allowing yourself one more stolen moment of peace before finally sitting up. Seungcheol watches you, his gaze heavy-lidded, filled with something you can’t quite name. Then, just as you’re about to move off the bed, his hand catches your wrist, stopping you.

You glance back at him, and his expression is unreadable for a beat before he smirks, tugging you down just enough to brush his lips against yours.

“Morning,” he murmurs, and it feels dangerously close to something more.

You swallow, the weight of the moment settling over you, but instead of overthinking it, you smile. “Morning.”

—

A week later you find yourself lying in the same bed, missing the man who had laid with you. The two of you haven’t seen each other since—your schedules never quite aligning—but the texts haven’t stopped. If anything, they’ve only gotten more frequent and flirtatious.

Cheol: You avoiding me or just giving me time to miss you? You: Are those the only options? Cheol: Unless you’d rather admit you can’t stop thinking about me. You: You’re so full of yourself. Cheol: And you love it.

You hate how much you do love it.

You turn and nearly walk into two people standing in the hallway.

“Whoa—careful,” a deep voice says as a steady hand catches your elbow.

It’s Seungcheol. Of course, it’s Seungcheol. He’s standing in front of you, that familiar grin spreading across his face. Standing next to him is a man you instantly recognize—Wonwoo. His calm, sharp features are exactly as you remember, though he seems a little more refined since college. You school your expression, feigning polite curiosity.

“Hey,” you manage, adjusting your grip on the bag.

“Hey yourself,” Seungcheol says, his grin widening. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Uh, I live here,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light despite the sudden thumping in your chest.

Wonwoo clears his throat, glancing between the two of you. “Cheol, are you going to introduce me, or should I do it myself?”

“Right.” Seungcheol gestures toward him. “This is Wonwoo—friend, buddy, compadre, if you will, and frequent pain in my ass. Wonwoo, this is…” He pauses, “Her.”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow but extends a hand to you. “Nice to meet you, ‘Her.’ Or, nice to see you again, I guess.”

You laugh, shaking his hand. “Nice to see you too. I’d remind you of my real name, but apparently Seungcheol forgot it.”

“Hardly, you’re the only thing he’s been talking about recently. You were friends with Kwan’, right? I think I crashed your study sessions a few times.”

The mention of Seungkwan brings a smile to your face, he’s now roommates with Jeonghan, even though he’s grown so much since you first met him the younger boy will always have a special place in your heart, “Yeah probably, he always had someone tagging along with him. That kid was a real social butterfly.” Wonwoo opens his mouth to respond but Seungcheol cuts him off.

“Yeah, great, glad you guys are close.” Seungcheol crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his head as he studies you. ”Small world and such.”

Your stomach twists slightly, but you keep your expression neutral. “Yeah, crazy coincidence. It’s almost like we went to the same school.” you say sarcastically, “So, what games will you be playing today?” 

Seungcheol narrows his eyes at you, “Who said anything about playing games?”

You swear your heart stops at that moment.

“Oh-uh,” Think, think, think, “Well the walls don’t do a very good job at masking your swearing at night, just assumed that’s what was going on.” 

Wonwoo, ever the observant one, stays quiet, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—like he’s connecting dots that you’d rather he didn’t.

“Sure,” Seungcheol responds, still watching you closely. “Anyways, we should get going.”

You nod, stepping back toward your door. “Yeah, it was nice seeing you both. I should put these away before they melt.”

“Uh huh,” Seungcheol mutters, stepping aside. Wonwoo simply nods politely, his expression calm but unreadable.

Once inside your apartment, you set the groceries down with a sigh, your mind racing. You didn’t slip up that bad, right? At least you had covered your mistake pretty well? Still, there was something about the way Seungcheol looked at you– like he was trying to piece together a puzzle– that left a sinking feeling in your stomach.

—

Another few days pass before you hear from Seungcheol outside of the usual teasing texts. You’re curled up on your couch when your phone buzzes.

Cheol: So, are you going to keep eavesdropping through the walls, or are you finally going to come over and play?

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

You: Who says I want to play?

Cheol: You wound me. But fine, if you’re too scared to lose, I understand.

You: Oh, please. Like you could actually beat me at anything.

Cheol: Prove it. Tonight. My place.

You hesitate for a moment. It’s one thing to comment on him playing games, but actually playing with him? You can’t be sure you won’t slip up again. But then again, you can’t let him think you’re scared.

You: Fine. What time?

Cheol: 8. Wonwoo will be there. And a few others. Don’t be late.

You stare at your screen for a moment before shaking your head. There’s no way this is a good idea, but you’re already getting up to change.

—

At 8:03, you knock on Seungcheol’s door. He opens it almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for you.

“You’re late,” he says, pouting slightly.

“It’s literally been three minutes, you big baby.”

“Three minutes too long.” He steps aside, letting you in. “Come on, the others are already here.”

His apartment is warm and filled with an easy kind of chaos. Wonwoo is lounging on the couch, a controller in hand, looking perfectly unbothered as he glances up at you. “She showed.”

“She did,” Seungcheol confirms, closing the door behind you.

At the other end of the room, four other guys are gathered, already deep into conversation. Seungcheol gestures toward them. “These are the guys. That’s Jihoon—" he points to the one sitting cross-legged on the floor, focused on a laptop. Jihoon barely glances up, offering only a short nod. “Vernon—” the boy next to Jihoon gives a small wave, expression relaxed. “Mingyu—” the tall one grins and throws an arm around Seungcheol’s shoulder. “And Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung—who you recognize from random campus events back in college—immediately brightens. “Wait, I know you! You were friends with Seungkwan, right?”

You laugh, nodding. “Yeah, that was me.”

“Small world, huh?”

Seungcheol claps his hands together. “Alright, now that introductions are out of the way, let’s get down to business.”

“Games,” Mingyu supplies helpfully.

“Winning,” Seungcheol corrects, looking directly at you.

You raise an eyebrow. “You wish.”

He grins. “We’ll see.”

—

The first game is an intense round of Mario Kart, and to no one’s surprise, Wonwoo dominates. “You guys suck,” he mutters as he crosses the finish line first yet again (as if you and Seungcheol weren’t on his tail the whole time).

“Okay, okay,” Seungcheol says, waving a hand. “Let’s switch it up. How about teams?”

You find yourself paired with Jihoon, who simply shrugs. “You ready?”

You smirk. “Let’s kick some ass.”

“Hell yeah.”

The match starts, and it’s immediately clear that Seungcheol is more competitive than he let on. The room is filled with laughter, shouts of victory, and groans of defeat. Soonyoung nearly falls off the couch at one point, yelling dramatically when your car pulls ahead of him.

Through it all, you feel yourself relaxing, the nervous energy from earlier fading away. When you glance at Seungcheol, he’s already watching you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he grins again.

—

As the night stretches on, the games gradually give way to easy conversation and laughter, drinks appearing in everyone's hands. Mingyu pours shots for everyone, insisting on a toast to new friends, while Soonyoung—already a little tipsy—challenges Jihoon to a battle of wits (which mostly consists of Jihoon sighing heavily while Soonyoung rambles on).

You find yourself nestled into the couch, comfortably warm from the drinks, the buzz of conversation wrapping around you. Seungcheol drops down next to you, draping an arm along the back of the couch. “Having fun?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

You let out a quiet laugh. “Guess you’re not as unbearable as I thought.”

“High praise.” He grins, taking a sip from his glass.

Eventually, the night winds down, one by one, the others heading out or claiming their spots to crash for the night. You stretch, standing up to grab your things. Seungcheol watches you with an amused glint in his eyes. “Need someone to walk you home?”

You raise an eyebrow, a huffed laugh leaving you. “What, for the whole two feet I need to walk?”

“Exactly,” he says, standing up and smirking. “Wouldn’t want anything to happen to you in the five steps it takes to get there.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips as he walks you to your door anyways. As you turn the key to your apartment, you look back at him, maybe it’s the alcohol in your system, or maybe it’s the confidence from meeting his friends that has you leaning up to place a soft kiss on his lips, “Goodnight, gamer boy.”

You realize your mistake the next morning, hoping he didn’t.

—

Still, life goes on, months pass by with you and Seungcheol seeing each other but never giving what you have a label. Your affection for the man starts to pile more by the day along with your guilt, feeling as if you’re betraying him with every brush of your skin on his. Tonight you’re curled up comfortably by his side, his TV playing some rom-com in the background as the two of you feast on fried chicken and soju, a perfect evening. You don’t know when your conversation became talking about your childhood, but you don’t care as Seungcheol tells you a story of the messes he got into with his older brother.

“You’ve always been a trouble-maker haven’t you?” you exclaim, kissing the tip of his nose. He giggles, humming in response and you admire the way it makes his face light up, warming your heart. Everything is so perfect, the way his arms wrap around you, the way the alcohol makes your brain slightly fuzzy. How he presses kisses all over your face as you laugh, finally getting a real kiss pressed to your lips as he lays you down on his couch. Sweet, gentle, and full of an emotion you don’t want to name. When he pulls back the same emotion fills his eyes.

“I really like you, you know?” he says shyly. You nod in response, smiling up at him. “We should make things official then, yeah?” You’re about to nod when the guilt you’ve been suppressing comes back stronger than ever, “I- I’m sorry.” You tell him. Before he can question you further, you stand up, rathering your stuff, “I’m really sorry Cheol.” You say once again before leaving his apartment, too drunk and too scared to face him.

The next day, as much as you try to avoid him, you run into Seungcheol in the hallway and he stops you. His teeth worry at his bottom lip, brow furrowed, “We need to talk about last night. Did I do something? I thought we– I thought things were going well but– just.. Tell me what I can do. Please?”

His words shatter any resolve you had to keep things from him.

“I know you stream.” the words fall from your mouth and make the man in front of you go ridged, “I mean, I’ve watched you a few times– more than a few– I found you a few months before you moved in and didn’t really know what to do.” You wring your hands together, too nervous to look him in the eye.

A few moments pass before he replies, “So what, you just planned on never telling me? Even after we started hanging out? After we… after everything?” His voice sounds defeated, broken. You shake your head but no sound comes out of your mouth. What could you say? Had you ever planned on telling him? You never knew things would get this far, if you did would you have told him sooner. You can feel Seungcheols heavy gaze on you, prompting you to speak, “I— I don’t know Cheol. I’m really sorry I just- I don’t know.”

He nods in response, and you can practically feel your heart drop, “Give me some time.” Is all he says before walking away, leaving you feeling empty.

Another week passes without a word from Seungcheol. Then another. Guilt is eating you from the inside, you don’t know what Seungcheol is thinking, if he’ll ever talk to you again. You can’t say you’d blame him if he didn’t. Once again at work you start slipping up, eventually Minghao decides that enough is enough. 

“Spill, now.” He says when you take your usual seat across from him. You try to convince him to wait until Jeonghan arrives but he’s firm in his insistence.

“Tell me what's going on, from the beginning. No lies, no excuses, no ‘I’ll figure it out on my own’ bullshit.” And so you do. You start from the beginning, Jeonghan's recommendation, the comfort it had brought you until your new neighbor appeared, the dates, the late-nights, the avoidance. You spill your guts out and Minghao listens. When you finish your tangent he just shakes his head.

“I know I’m an idiot Hao, but what was I supposed to do?” You defend yourself, from what exactly, you aren’t sure. Your throat starts to tighten and Minghao places his hand atop yours on the table, “Hey, it’s going to be okay. You’re overthinking it.” He talks the panic out of you like he has so many times before, guides your breathing and soothes your nerves.

“Just because you’re an idiot doesn’t mean you can’t fix things.” His statement makes you laugh, his hand squeezing yours reassuringly. “Trust me, I’m sure you and your little gamer boy can work things out. Just tell him the truth, the same way you just told it to me.” You nod in response. The rest of the break the two of you talk like you always do, laughing and jabbing your coworkers as Minghao just rolls his eyes at you. 

“Y/n?”

Your name from across the room breaks the comfortable bubble you’d been in with your friend. Seungcheol stands a few feet away from your table, betrayal evident in his eyes. You stand up to go towards him, but his scoff makes you stop in your tracks. He turns on his heel and walks out.

“What are you doing? Go after him, dumbass.” Broken out of your trance you hurry out the door, ignoring how the cold wind bites at your skin, your jacket left behind you. Seungcheol’s back is towards you as you chase after him, grabbing his arm and forcing him to face you.

“Wait a second, I-” 

You’re cut off when he yanks his arm from your grip. Your chest aches when you see the look in his eyes. It’s unfamiliar, the face of the man you once found comfort in contorted into something else, something that scared you.

“Don’t start with me Y/n,” his tone is harsh, cutting through the cold air straight into your chest, “I trusted you, you know that? I really trusted you, I thought- it doesn’t even matter because you turned out to be the same as everyone else. This is all, what, some sort of twisted game? You wanted to get into my life and have a piece of me like every other crazy bitch that watches me, right? Well congradu-fucking-lations, you win. Your sick game is over now.” His eyes looked at you, filled with anger, betrayal, hatred, “And to think, after I started to believe that maybe, just maybe you had a reason to lie to me, that you actually cared about me, I see you with another guy. You can’t even go one week without finding a new boy-toy to play with, can you? You’re just another attention-seeking whore.” 

His words hit you like a slap in the face. Here you are, freezing your ass off to try and explain yourself all for what? Finally all the emotions that have been boiling under the surface start to bubble over, “Excuse me?” Your voice comes out dangerously calm, seemingly stopping Seungcheol’s next sentence. 

“First of all,” you clarify, “you’re the one who moved in next to me, let's not get things twisted. And yeah, I didn’t tell you I knew who you were, you wanna know why? Because the first time I saw you it looked like you were about to have a nervous breakdown because I recognized you. Of fucking course I said I knew you from college, I wasn’t about to make you more uncomfortable than you already were! I haven’t watched a single video since that day out of respect for you and your privacy. You are the one who kept talking to me, you are the one who asked me out, you are the one who kept doing things that would make it impossible for me to not start falling for you. A whore? I’ve been so worried about you that I make stupid mistakes in the simplest fucking tasks at work and my coworkers started to get worried, my friends started to get worried. So I finally tell them what's going on and when they convince me to come clean and explain everything to you, you decide to jump to conclusions. You can say whatever you want, Choi Seungcheol, but don’t you dare think for a second that I don’t care about you.” Hot tears stream down your face, but you don’t care, the words come pouring out from you, and you watch as Seungcheols expression morphs from anger, looking away before you can see what it turns into. His hand reaches out for yours but you pull away, not looking at him because you know if you do it’ll change your mind. “I hope you can find an attention-seeking whore to play with Seungcheol because I can’t do this. Not anymore.”

When you return to the cafe, Minghao doesn’t scold you for letting your emotions control you, offering instead to cover for you so you could go home but you refuse. Because what is home, you think, without Seungcheol. 

You stay at Jeonghans for the next few days, calling out sick from work to instead watch dramas with Seungkwan. He doesn’t question your sudden appearance, nor the tears that fall whenever the drama leads would interact, which you’re thankful for. He gives you a steady shoulder to cry on and a reliable source of laughter to cheer you up. The two of you are currently huddled under a blanket, watching as Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams run towards each other in the rain. Your hands are holding his tightly under the blanket as you both squeal when they kiss. When the movie ends tears stream down both of your faces and Seungkwan bumps your shoulder lightly, “Whatever you’re going through must be serious, you never cry during The Notebook.” 

You roll your eyes at his statement, laughing along with him as you turn the T.V. off. He turns to face you, suddenly serious and you know what's coming.

“You’re not kicking me out, are you?” The smile accompanying your joke doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and Seungkwan notices with a sigh.

“You know I would never, but you also know you can’t avoid going back forever. Eventually you’ll need to go back to your apartment.” He gives a pointed look at your too-big hoodie and sweats courtesy of Jeonghan. “Listen Y/n, you know I love you but–”

“I know Kwan’, I know. I’m just scared. Even if I know you’re right. I don’t think I’m ready to face him yet.” You cut him off, tears welling in your eyes once more. Seungkwan clasps your hands in his.

“Remember my senior year when I had a mental breakdown and called you at ass-O’-clock in the morning?” You nod, the memory vague but there. He continues, “I went over to your house and told you I was scared, that suddenly everything felt so real with job applications, interviews, and graduation getting closer. I didn’t know what to do, I wasn’t ready to be an adult yet and suddenly life was being shoved in my face and I didn’t know how to cope. Do you remember what you said to me?” A small smile forms on your face among the tears, Seungkwan giving you a reassuring one in response.

 “There are some things you’ll never be ready for, but the clock still ticks and the Earth still spins, no matter how terrified you are. You just have to do it scared.” 

You recite the words with him, words your parents had told you when you were eighteen and unprepared for college life, words you lived by since then, that had gotten you through your darkest times and happiest moments. Words that you had somehow lost in the chaos of adulting. 

You wipe your face on your sleeve, small laughs replacing your sobs as you look at your lap, “Thanks Kwan.” 

You don’t need to say anything else, he knows, like he always does. Like all of your friends always do because at the end of the day no matter how tough things get you will always have an amazing support system full of amazing friends. No man could change that, no amount of distance could break the bond your little entourage have. Because they, you realize, are home.

Seungkwan wraps you in a warm embrace as you tear up some more, not sad this time. The two of you rock back and forth for a while before pulling away and making eye contact. 

“Tomorrow?”

“Can’t we wait until the weekend?”

“Fine, you stubborn pain in the ass. Saturday. Morning.”

You groan in response but don’t bother to hide the smile on your lips.

—

Saturday morning comes faster than you’d like. The moment your eyes flutter open, reality crashes into you like a wave, heavy and unrelenting. For a fleeting moment, you consider burying yourself deeper into the blankets, pretending that you could stay in Jeonghan’s guest room forever. But Seungkwan’s words from the night before echo in your mind. You just have to do it scared.

With a deep breath, you push yourself out of bed. Jeonghan is already in the kitchen, sipping his coffee with an all-knowing smirk when you walk in. "So, today’s the big day, huh?"

You roll your eyes, reaching for the mug he’s already set out for you. “You act like I’m about to get married.”

“Considering the dramatics, it might as well be.”

You groan, dropping your head onto the counter. “Can you not?”

Jeonghan chuckles, patting the top of your head before walking away. “Just rip the bandaid off, Y/n. You’ll feel better once you do.”

You’re not sure about that, but you know he’s right.

By the time you reach your apartment complex, your heart is pounding so loudly that you can hear it in your ears. The familiar hallway feels foreign, your feet carrying you toward your door on autopilot. You turn the key in your apartment door, the familiar creak of the hinges sounding louder than usual in the quiet hallway. The space is just as you left it—dim, still, and eerily empty. It feels foreign, like you don’t quite belong here anymore. Maybe because, for the past few days, you didn’t. With a heavy sigh, you drop your bag by the door and toe off your shoes, making your way to the couch. The exhaustion from carrying the weight of everything settles into your bones. You lean back, eyes fluttering shut, trying to steady your breathing.

It takes a few days for you to settle back into your apartment. At first, everything feels too quiet. You find yourself reaching for your phone to text Seungcheol before remembering the way things ended. You distract yourself with work, with cleaning, with anything to keep your mind from wandering to the ache in your chest. But no matter how much you try to push it down, it lingers.

—

You haven’t seen him since that night. You don’t expect to. Instead you go back to how things had been before he moved in, ignoring the ache in your chest whenever you hear him through your thin apartment walls. 

Some nights, you lie awake, staring at the photo you had taken with him on your first date, wishing to go back in time. You listen to the faint sounds of his life bleeding through the walls, wondering if he does the same, or if he threw the picture away all together. The murmur of his voice on the phone, the clink of dishes in the sink, the low hum of his TV. It’s almost cruel how easily he seems to slip back into routine while you feel like you’re unraveling. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. That you’ll get used to it. But the silence in your own apartment is deafening, and the space he left behind feels colder than it should.

You start wearing headphones more often. It helps, a little. Drowns out the ghost of his presence. Keeps you from wondering if he ever pauses, mid-conversation, mid-laugh, mid-breath, thinking about you. You don’t let yourself hope.

But late one night, when you’re standing at your sink rinsing out a mug, you hear it—your name. Soft, hesitant. Muffled by the wall but unmistakable. Your breath catches, fingers tightening around the ceramic. You wait, straining to hear more. A part of you wants to move closer, to press your ear against the wall, to pretend that he’s just on the other side, that nothing has changed. But then you hear footsteps, the creak of his door opening.

And then nothing.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You tell yourself it was nothing.

But you don’t wear your headphones that night.

—

The next morning, you wake up with the imprint of your phone against your cheek, the playlist you put on last night long finished. Your first thought is that you dreamed it—his voice, his hesitation. That your mind is just playing tricks on you because it wants so badly to believe he still thinks about you.

But then, as you move through your morning routine, you catch yourself hesitating near the front door. You don’t know why. Maybe it’s the weight in your chest, the feeling of stepping into the world once again without him waiting to greet you. You push the feelings aside.

When you finally open the door, you nearly step on something– small and familiar, sitting right in the center of your doorstep.

Your scarf.

You freeze. Your fingers twitch at your sides.

The scarf you’d left at his place weeks ago, back when you still had a place there too. It’s neatly folded, like he took care with it, but there’s no note, no explanation. Just the scarf. You swallow hard, your fingers tightening around the fabric as you pick it up. It still smells like his apartment, like the faint trace of his cologne, like something that used to feel like home.

You stand there too long, cold air slipping into your apartment through the open door, numbing your fingers, your face. Your mind races with all the possibilities—did he find it by accident? Did he mean to leave it for you himself? Did he hesitate, just like you are now?

You don’t know what to do with it.

So you do what you always do—you tuck it away, shove it into the depths of your closet like you can bury the feelings that come with it.

But that night, when you curl into bed, your hand drifts toward the closet door. Before you can stop yourself, you pull the scarf back out. Hold it in your lap. Press it between your fingers. Like maybe, if you close your eyes, you can pretend—for just a little while—that you never had lied to him in the first place.

—

The scarf stays on your nightstand after that. You don’t wear it. You don’t even move it. But you don’t put it back in the closet, either.

It’s stupid, you tell yourself. It’s just fabric. Just something that happened to be left behind. He probably didn’t think twice about it. He was just returning something that wasn’t his, nothing more.

You keep going to work, settling disputes with coworkers who seem to have nothing better to do than fight (you ignore the way you almost reach for your phone to listen to Seungcheols voice as you work).

You keep meeting Jeonghan and Minghao on Wednesdays, occasionally Seungkwan joins the three of you (you ignore the way they glance at you with pity).

Everything is where it’s supposed to be (you ignore how everything you do feels like it’s missing something).

It’s late, and you’re lying in bed, not really asleep, not really awake. The walls between your apartments have always been thin—thin enough that sometimes you can catch pieces of his voice, low and tired, when he’s on the phone late at night.

But this time, there’s no conversation. Just footsteps. The sound of a drawer opening, then closing. A pause. And then, so quiet you almost miss it—your name.

Your stomach twists.

You tell yourself it was just in your imagination, don’t let yourself dwell on why he might have said that because he didn’t (you ignore how you know that’s a lie).

The next morning, you wake up feeling like you never really slept at all. Your body is heavy, your mind clouded with something you don’t want to name. You go about your day like normal—like nothing happened. Like you didn’t hear him say your name. Like it didn’t send a crack through the carefully constructed distance you’ve been trying to build.

But it lingers.

You don’t mean to, but you start listening to him more. Not on purpose—at least, that’s what you tell yourself—but your ears tune in anyway. You notice the little things: the way he moves around his apartment, the late nights he stays up, the mornings he leaves just a little later than he used to.

And then one evening, when you step out of your apartment to grab something from the corner store, you nearly run into him.

You freeze.

So does he.

For a moment, neither of you speak. He looks… tired. Like he hasn’t been sleeping well either. Like maybe he’s been feeling the same weight pressing down on him. Your throat is tight. You should say something. You should walk away.

But then his gaze flickers, just briefly, to your door. To you.

When he starts to turn around Seungkwan’s reminder rings in your head.

Do it scared. 

And before you can stop yourself, before you can think better of it, his name slips past your lips, “Seungcheol.”

His breath catches.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself, “We should talk.”

Seungcheol freezes, hand hovering above his door knob for a second before dropping to his side. When he looks up at you his eyes are full of so many emotions it makes your heart ache; shame, regret, hurt, hesitation. It almost makes you change your mind, but then you see it, the tiniest sliver of hope behind his gaze, that helps you keep going, inviting him into your apartment. He hesitates before entering, you walk in after him, closing the door.

Seungcheol doesn’t sit, so you don’t either. Instead, you stand near the couch, gripping your hands together to keep them from shaking. It’s silent for a moment, you aren’t used to his presence anymore.

“I meant what I said before,” you begin hesitantly. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

His gaze flickers with something unreadable. He responds softly, voice sounding almost broken, “Then why didn’t you just tell me?”

You exhale, the numbed frustration and regret rising again in your chest. “At first I thought it wasn’t important, you were just my neighbor, and you looked nervous when we first met so I figured you’d rather stay anonymous. But then we started to get to know each other and suddenly I was keeping a huge secret and I didn’t know what to do. I-,” You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and stop your rambling, “I was scared. I didn’t want to ruin whatever this was—whatever we were. I thought if I told you the truth, you’d push me away.” You let out a small, humorless laugh. “Looks like I managed to do that anyway.”

Seungcheol sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. “You should’ve given me the chance to decide how I felt about it instead of lying to me.”

You nod slowly, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. “I know,” you whisper. “I should’ve told you the truth. I should have done so many things differently, but I didn’t, and I hurt you.” You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to meet his eyes even though it makes your stomach twist. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Seungcheol looks at you, nodding, “Me too. For what I said.”

“Don’t worry, I get it, you had every right to be mad.” You protest. 

He flinches, shaking his head. “Not like that.” His hands ball into fists at his sides before he sighs, running one through his hair. “Yeah, you should have told me. And yeah, it hurt. But what I said to you?” His jaw clenches. “That wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve that.” His voice is thick with guilt, his brows furrowed in frustration—at himself, not at you as he looks away. “Did you- when we would be together who were you thinking of?”

You tilt your head in confusion, so he elaborates, “I guess what I’m asking is if you just thought of me as S.coups, if you thought it was just another game.” When he meets your gaze once more it’s as if all the confidence was drained from him, he looked unsure, raw vulnerability in the way he bites his lip and wrings his hands together. 

“It was never a game, not for me at least. To me you’ve always been Seungcheol, even when you first moved in, I didn’t really think about your job other than being worried that I would make you uncomfortable by knowing. Even when I’d watch you play, when you were having fun you were Seungcheol playing games like you used to during class. On days you didn’t seem as into it you were Seungcheol doing your job.”

You hear Seungcheol inhale sharply as you continue, “Back then and now you mean so much to me, I never meant to hurt you, but I did. And I don’t expect you to forgive me just because I apologized. If you still hate me that fi–”

You’re cut off by lips on yours, gentle and nervous until you kiss back. After so long it feels like the world finally clicks into place, a hand sliding into yours gently as your tears mix with his.

When you separate Seungcheol’s hand grips yours tightly, eyes still closed as if he’s scared you’ll be gone when he opens them. “I don’t hate you, Y/n.” His voice is softer now, barely a whisper. “I never did.” This time you lean into him, pressing your lips together once more. His free hand moves to cradle your face, yours lightly gripping the front of his shirt. Muttered ‘I missed you’s are scattered between kisses as you make your way to the couch, placing yourself on Seungcheol’s lap when he sits. Neither of you can help the tears on your faces. 

After who-knows-how-long you’re still in Seungcheol’s embrace, his strong arms wrapped around you, drawing slow patterns on your back as the two of you sway back and forth gently. His heartbeat is steady beneath your ear, a quiet rhythm that makes you feel like you can finally breathe easy. You don’t know how long you sit there, tangled together on your couch, his arms around you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go. Maybe he is. Maybe you are too.

“Thank you. For coming back.” Seungcheol murmurs into your hair. His voice is soft, careful, like he’s afraid of saying too much, of pushing too hard.

You shift slightly, just enough to look up at him. His eyes are still damp, lashes clumped together, and the sight of it twists something in your chest. “Always,” you whisper. “I’ll be here as long as you still want me.”

His breath shudders as he exhales. “I do.” He presses his forehead against yours, voice thick with emotion. “Always did, always will.”

You close your eyes, soaking in the warmth of him, the weight of his hands resting at your waist, grounding you. “No more hiding. No more running.” you say softly.

Seungcheol nods, his grip tightening like he’s holding onto something fragile. “No more running,” he agrees. For a while, neither of you speak. You just exist in the quiet, in the warmth of each other, letting the weight of everything settle. Eventually, Seungcheol chuckles, breath fanning against your cheek. “I don’t want to move,” he admits.

You smile, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “Then don’t.”

His lips twitch into a grin. “You’ll let me stay?”

You pretend to consider it, tilting your head. “Depends. Are you planning on stealing all the blankets again?”

Seungcheol laughs, the sound vibrating against your skin. “No promises.”

You sigh dramatically. “I suppose I’ll allow it.”

His arms tighten around you, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to yours. “Good,” he murmurs. “Because I don’t think I can let go just yet.”

Neither do you.

—

“You ready to lose again?” Seungcheol asks, raising an eyebrow, the usual playful confidence in his voice.

You roll your eyes, scoffing. “In your dreams, Cheol.”

It’s silly, how normal it is, how easy it was to slip into the rhythm of this again. Your friends around you in his apartment, all laughing and having fun.

"Hoshi, I’m going to kick your ass!" Seungkwan yells from across the room, his voice high-pitched with mock frustration.

"You've got a lot of nerve talking, considering you're in last place," Soonyoung teases back, his grin wide and infectious.

"I can’t believe we’re playing this game again," Mingyu groans dramatically, even though he’s clearly enjoying himself despite the complaints.

"You’re just mad because I hit you with a shell. Like this," Jihoon shoots another shell at Mingyu’s cart, the corner of his lips curving upward as he hears Mingyu’s swears.

Seungcheol laughs, his usual confidence shining through as he skillfully handles his character. Every now and then, his hand would brush yours, and in those moments, it felt like time had slowed just enough for you to savor the simple joy of being surrounded by friends—by family.

"You’re about to lose!" Jeonghan said, voice full of amusement as he leaned over to look at the screen.

Seungcheol shot him a mock glare. "You’re not even playing."

But despite the teasing, the tension was long gone. No more waiting for the right moment to speak, no more hiding. It isn’t perfect—nothing ever is—but it's real. And that's enough.

You lean back against the couch, your head resting against Seungcheol’s shoulder as you pull into fourth place with a groan.

Seungcheol leans in, nudging your shoulder lightly with his. “So, when do you plan on winning?” he teases, his grin wider than before.

You glare at him, but the corners of your mouth betray you, lifting into a smile you can’t fight. “I’ll win when I’m good and ready, it’s not my fault my boyfriend is a professional.” you reply, your voice playful as you pout at the man in front of you. He laughs and presses a kiss to your lips, “Boyfriend, huh? You’re trying to use my weaknesses against me aren’t you?” You look up at him with the best innocent face you can manage, “That depends, my dear, is it working?”

“Maybe.”

“Ugh, get a room, you two.” Seungkwan’s complaints cause a wave of laughter as Seungcheol just pulls you closer into his side, sticking his tongue out at the younger boy. The teasing continues for a while longer, but you can feel how the warmth in the room isn’t just coming from the shared space or the game. It’s the laughter, the familiarity, and that makes a smile spread onto your lips. No distance, no walls. Just warmth, joy, and the comfort of being surrounded by people who cared. People who you knew would be by your side through thick and thin because the clocks still tick and the Earth still spins, time moves forward with them by your side to move with it.

A/N: Wooo she’s finally done!! Thx @orngejuic for being my beta reader ilysm.

[eyesonlybutterflies]

Let me show you

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘺𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘏𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: experienced!Heeseung x inexperiencedf!reader

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 5.0k

𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰: smut, fuckboy!Heeseung, swearing, reader in denial of her feelings for Hee, reader also kind of oblivious, Heeseung is DOWN BADDD, jealousy if you look close enough, Heeseung is still a sweatheart, pet names (baby, darling, etc.), (neck) kissing, grinding/dry humping, very slight restraints, boob sucking, hair pulling, teasing, big dick Heeseung, oral (m and f receiving), praise, face painting, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampie, aftercare w gentleman!Heeseung, lmk if I missed anything

18+ 𝓜𝓝𝓓𝓘!!!

𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓸𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

'She was soo good, y/n. I'm telling you if she even breathes in my direction I'd 100% fuck her again,' Heeseung shamelessy confesses to you. Heeseung and you have been friends since middle school and you're both now well into college. You've finally hit the age and stage where you openly talk about your sex lifes. Well... Heeseung's sex life.

It's not that you're an unattractive woman, in fact most of your female friends praise how amazing you look in every outfit, hype you up when you need it and all in all let you know you're very attractive.

Guys just haven't seemed to notice. Or at least, not many guys. You've been on a date or two, kissed a guy, even made out with someone, but that's it. You've never had sex, never given or received head, fuck you've never even touched a clothed penis.

Hearing all these stories from your friends kills your curious nature, '𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭? 𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥?' It's so bad that it's come to the point you're considering asking Heeseung to show you. I mean, he's your friend, you trust him and there are no feelings involved. It'd be a teaching moment for you and just another night for Heeseung.

Eventually you always pushed away that thought. It was just a stupid idea you had when you were horny and you chose Heeseung because he's the most attractive out of all your male friends. The first time had to be with someone you were actually into. Still, for some reason you felt the need to make him aware of your... situation.

'Hey Hee,' You shyly start. 'Mmh?' He says as he's staring at his phone, probably looking through his texts to see who to hook up with next. 'Have you never noticed I don't share my sex stories?' He stops and looks at you, 'Yeah, but I assumed you just didn't feel comfortable sharing.' 'Actually... I, I'm a virgin.'

Heeseung drops his phone in response. His eyebrows are raised and eyes so wide he looks like a deer in headlights, 'What??' 'I know it's embarrassing! I just, UGH!' You scream before grabbing a pillow and screaming into it, not being able to bare the embarrasment and too scared to make eye contact with Heeseung again.

A gentle force takes away the pillow you use to hide your face, Heeseung's face replacing the darkness of the pillow. His eyes soft, empethatic. 'Y/n, are you serious?' 'Yes and it's embarrassing, I don't even know why I told you, just forget it,' You ramble. You only had thoughts of telling Heeseung, not actually expecting you to have the balls to say it, and most certainly not Heeseung getting so close to you after your confession.

It'd have been a lot easier if he had just laughed in your face, whether it was because he didn't believe it or because he can totally understand why. Him just being a couple centimeters away from you was not what you had expected. It switched something inside you. You saw him from a different perspective, literally.

You'd never saw him as anything but your friend. Heeseung who was kind, Heeseung who made fun of you, Heeseung who took care of you when you needed someone. You never read into it too much. Why would you? He never confessed his feelings to you and it seemed like he was thinking of the next woman to fuck whilst still laying in bed with the previous woman.

But now that he's so close, you can almost look into his soul. The playboy facade almost seems to fade right in front of your eyes. However you quickly push it away. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩.

He snaps you out of your thoughts when a hand lands on your cheek, 'Did you hear what I asked you?' You were so in your thoughts you didn't even notice Heeseung asking you a question. 'N-no, sorry.' With a smile, his beautiful smile, he asks again, 'Have you ever kissed before?' 'Oh god yes I have! I'm not 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 inexperienced!'

'Good, a pretty girl like you deserves appreciation.' Your cheeks flush, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺? Heeseung clearly sees your confusion and just laughs. 'You're just fucking with me! You fuckboys always say stupid shit like that!' You push him away, lowkey mad about the fact he'd play with your feelings in such an intimate moment.

Heeseung repositions himself next to you and you quickly grab a pillow to hug, both for you comfort and defense from Heeseung. 'I would never joke about that. Not when it comes to you.' Your head snaps to him, 'What the fuck is that supposed to mean?' 'Oh baby, please don't tell me you're that oblivious?' What??????

'You remember all those late nights where we would watch movies together freshman year of college because you felt homesick? God I can still remember all the songs in Mamma Mia.' 'What does that have to do with this?' 'Do you really think I'd do that with anyone else? I even cancelled bro nights with the boys to spend time with you.' 'But why are you in other women's bed every weekend?' You completely ignore the fact he basically confessed to liking you, only the other women he's been with occupy your mind.

'Because I've been waiting for you.' 'Heeseung what are you even SAYING right now?' You stand up, creating space between you two. Nothing is making sense right now. 'Y/n, I've had feelings for you since the day we met. Those feelings are still very strong, but I never dared telling you about them. I saw the way you were talking with other guys and just assumed you were hooking up, no strings attached with others and you just didn't feel comfortable telling me. So I did the same, but trust me, I wish it was you every time.'

The only thing you can do is throw your hands up to you head. Your mouth is hanging open but nothing is coming out. Everything is slowly starting to make sense. 'Why didn't you say anything?' You finally get out. All Heeseung does is stare at you. He studies your face, your body language, he's studying 𝘺𝘰𝘶. But not in a creepy way, but in a loving way. Like he's been waiting for this moment for so long and it's unfolding even better than he could have ever imagined.

'Heeseung, please talk!' You almost get frustrated, feeling tears in your eyes as you feel both confused, relieved and scared. He stands up, walks over to you and puts his hands on your waist. 'I'm sorry baby,' is all he says before he leans in to kiss you. Only he doesn't close the distance.

'Is this okay, darling?' You nearly melt into his touch as he moves one hand to your cheek and smiles. The kiss starts soft. Initially long and slow touches of your lips turn into more hungry motions as you both realise you're actually kissing each other and this isn't just a dream.

After years of yearning and denial, you're finally kissing.

And it feels good. Heeseung naturally takes the lead, licking your bottom lip as to ask for permission. You grant him that permission immediately, going in to grab his cheeks to prepare yourself for the lightheadedness he's going to give. Because if there's one thing you've learned about Heeseung's stories, it's that he knows how to kiss.

The kiss grows deeper. Heeseung pushes his lips into yours like he's a starved man. His tongue desperately searching for yours and once there's a steady, consistent rythm to your dancing tongues, something clicks in him.

Both his hands travel down to your ass and, without warning, lifts you up. A small shriek escapes out of your mouth ahead of you wrapping your legs around Heeseung. He leads the both of you back onto your bed. He very gently lays you on your back, as if you're made of marble and ready to crack at movement a little too harsh.

You wrap your arms around Heeseung's neck, letting him know you never want to change the scenery. Heeseung is so turned on by how beautiful you look under him, completely his and not wanting anything else that he's starting to moan in your mouth and slowly grind against your crotch. You push him slightly away, looking at him with large eyes, unsure of what to make of this situation.

Heeseung gets the hint and looks at you with concerned eyes, 'Is this too fast, baby?' You shake your head, gulping loudly. 'I've just never done more than making out,' you start, 'I've only kissed and made out with like 3 guys, never anything more.' 'Not even this?' He says as he presses his erection into your heat. You gasp and that's enough confirmation for Heeseung.

'Are you okay with us doing this?' Sweet Heeseung, always making sure you're okay and comfortable ever since the beginning. You nod, 'I actually... kind of want you to be my first.' Noticing his confusion you continue, 'I've been thinking about, you know, this, a lot and if I had to choose someone to do it with, I'd choose you.'

The smile that slowly creeps up Heeseung's lips give you butterflies, and not just in your stomach. 'Really?' He asks in that attractive ass expression, his eyebrow raised, a light smirk and slight sparkly eyes. You nod shyly, biting your lip to prevent yourself from saying something any more stupid. 'Well, baby, I'll make sure you won't regret this.'

Before he can resume the intimate kiss, you still slightly push him away, looking at him with doe-eyes, 'Is this gonna change us?' 'I better fucking hope it will.' The kiss picks back up right where it left off, except that it feels more intimate.

Heeseung's hands start to roam your body, starting at your cheeks, slowly going down and eventually landing on your boobs. He can feel your perky nipples through your shirt and it's making his buldge grow even tighter. 'Off,' he demands and you comply, taking your shirt off swiftly, making your tits bounce.

Sounds of you two kissing has stopped because of Heeseung's newfound focus on your boobs and looking at them in admiration. You get a little timid, never having shown them to a boy before, but as you try to hug yourself to hide them, Heeseung quickly grabs your wrists and firmly press them above your head. 'Don't hide,' he snarls, 'you're too pretty to hide.'

A warm flush spreads over your already burning cheeks. All this praise, action and physical contact making you lightheaded 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥'𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥. Your tomato-red face seems to go unnoticed by Heeseung who is too busy slowly feeling your right boob with one of his hands. Not soon after his hot, wet mouth attaching to your left boob.

The sudden contact makes you gasp and your back arches slighty. Heeseung smiles against your chest, loving every second. He sucks on your nipple and as he detaches from it, he faintly lifts your boob with his mouth and makes a pop sound as he releases it again, only for it to bounce back erotically. 'Fuck you're making me rock hard,' he says before promptly going in again.

This time he's making out with your right nipple. He's slowly releasing your hands and repositions his on your waist. Whilst his mouth is busy licking your tits, sucking loudly on your nipples and moaning inbetween your tits, he's slowly grinding against your still-clothed, but slicky wet pussy. 'Baby you feel so good,' breathy sighs escape his mouth, 'I bet you feel so tight.'

One of your hands travel to his hair and holds a harsh grab. You pull his face away from your boobs and see he already has a foggy expression from just your tits. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘵. Never in your years of friendship did you think you'd end up in your bed with your hot friend who looks like he's almost cumming in his pants from just touching your breasts.

As you're pulling him back up towards your lips, a string of moans escape Heeseung's swollen lips. 'What's wrong, Hee?' You ask him with fake concern. 'I need you so bad,' he whines, 'Need to feel your wet pussy tightening around my cock.' You smirk as you let your free hand graze over his body until it lands on his crotch.

You become aware of just how horny he must be. You slowly start to rub his hard-on. Heeseung is absolutely falling apart on top of you. Every brush of a touch feels overwhelming.

'Please keep touching me.' 'Yeah you like it when I do that?' 'Yes, Y/n, and don't fucking stop.' Deep sighs and low moans are exchanged before you signal for him to lay on his back. Heeseung catches on to what you're trying to do as you lift his shirt and unbuckle his pants with the sweetest expression on your face, 'You don't have to do this if you don't want to.' 'I want to, I really do. I've been waiting for so long to do this.' Your excitement alone makes his cock twitch dangerously hard.

Just because you're inexperienced and nervous, doesn't mean you aren't the usual tease towards Heeseung. Very slowly undo his belt and even do him the honour of taking the belt off of his pants. You throw it somewhere in your room, but Heeseung doesn't care what you did with it, he just needs to get his dick out of his restricting boxers. And he will let you know he doesn't like this slow pace.

'Fuck, Y/n, stop doing that and just take it off.' You giggle, but refuse his wish. As slowly as you possibly can you pull just his pants off of him. Heeseung throws his head back as he feels less and less restraint against his dripping cock.

The only piece of clothing remaining from exposing his dick are his boxers, but even with just that you can tell how big he is. Your mouth is slightly agape as you look up at Heeseung's face. When you make eye contact Heeseung's face turns into a big smirk. He gently caresses you cheek, 'You can take it, baby. I know you can.'

Once you've built up all the courage you can, you hook your fingers around his waistband and pull his boxers down. His dick escapes immediately with a soft slap as it hits Heeseung's stomach. His balls and length are twitching from the exposure. It's veiny, very veiny. His tip is a redish pink from how long he's been hard and its slightly covered in pre-cum. He's more lengthy than girthy, but it's still wide enough where you 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 you're gonna have trouble walking the next day.

So mesmerized by his cock, you're only making eye contact with it instead of looking at Heeseung's scrunched up face. After you've stripped him free from his boxers, you slowly start to touch him. First it's a finger to see his penis bounce, then you wrap your entire hand around him, hearing Heeseung take in a sharp breath.

Slow pumps follow, unconsiously leaving your mouth hang open a little and Heeseung doesn't think twice before putting his thumb in your mouth, 'Suck on it.' You start sucking on his thumb, warming up your tongue before taking him in your mouth in a different way. Your pumps start to speed up and you're including his tip into the pumps as well.

When you hit that sensitive spot at the back of his tip just right, the most beautiful moan escapes from Heeseung, 'Your mouth, baby.' 'You think I'm ready?' 'I know you are. You're such a good girl sucking my thumb and jerking me off.' You bite your lip before gradually coming closer to his tip.

You start by licking the top of his tip, looking him deep into his eyes to see how much effect you have on him. A groan escapes his mouth, signalling for you to take more of him, and so you do. You take his entire tip in your mouth and start to swirl your tongue around it, stopping at that same sensitive spot. Moving the flat part of your tongue up and down with still just his tip in your mouth.

'Oh my fucking god,' Heeseung whimpers, 'You're sure you've never done this?' You keep bobbing your head at the same spot until you can feel his tip spasm. Without warning you start to take in 𝘢𝘭𝘭 of him. Surprised by the sudden move, Heeseung grabs your hair and unintentionally thrusts his hips upward, hitting the back of your throat, 'Shit, baby, I'm sorry.'

The words aren't reaching your ears because of the surprising pleasure you got from getting accidentally throatfucked. Something in your brain changes and you start to pick up the pace of your head movement. Heeseung is taken aback by it, but can't do anything about it since you make him feel too good.

Taking him all the way, at a quick tempo and not being used to this length has you gaggingly shamelessly. Saliva is dripping down your chin and tears are starting to form in your eyes. However you ignore all of those things. Seeing just how good you're making Heeseung feel makes you want to go harder, faster, deeper. You want him so deep in your throat, you don't even care if you get a collapsed lung.

Whilst your mouth is bouncing of his rock hard cock, you grab his balls. Massage them lightly and occasionally giving them a lick or slight sucking. 'Right there, darling. Aah shit ah,' is all Heeseung can moan. His eyes strictly on you, but his mind so far away, he's not even sure you're actually doing this to him.

'Fuck I'm gonna cum.' He groans, head thrown back, preparing for the load he's about to release. You're not sure what to do and whether Heeseung likes shooting everything down your throat or painting your face, so you keep your mouth attached to him, sucking him off through his orgasm.

Very soon after you start to feel sharp loads shoot to the back of your throat. You try to not waste a drop of his cum, but fuck he's cumming a lot. When you think he's finally done you detach your mouth from his dick, a mewl escapes Heeseung's mouth by the sudden cold.

To your surprise, he was not done cumming. A few strands of his cum land right on your face, still painting your face. Once Heeseung is back on earth and looks at you he sees you trying to wipe away the remaining cum, 'Stop.' You stop in your tracks and Heeseung sits up straight right in front of you.

One of his hands reach towards your face and his thumb is gently cleaning the spots on your face you hadn't cleaned yet. 'Open your mouth.' You obey and Heeseung puts his thumb back into your mouth, 'Good girl, cleaning up the mess you made.' Heeseung is looking at you with so much fondness, loving the fact you're just as filthy as him.

Without you having much say, Heeseung grabs your waist and makes you switch positions. 'Now show me that pretty pussy,' is all he says before sliding off your bottoms. 'Fuck, Hee, please make me feel good.' 'Don't worry about that, darling,' he gives you a quick wink as he's pulling his top off.

His warm mouth connecting with your clit sends shivers down your spine. He takes his time as he starts licking it, making sure to keep his eyes on you to confirm you're feeling every single movement. The licking slowly starts to turn into sucking as one of his fingers is teasing the walls of your hole, loving the way it's clenching down on nothing.

'Hee, oh my god yes, put it inside.' Heeseung fulfils your wish and his long fingers enter your pussy. A gasp slips out of your mouth and you clench down on him. 'Aww, baby, already too much?' 'N-No! I just, ah shit-' It's mind-boggling just how much power he has with just one finger.

At a slow pace he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you, deeper with each time he puts his finger back in your cunt. 'Hee, oh fuck, yes!' Your words slurring the deeper he pumps into you. At some point he's still fucking you with just one finger and all you do is babble, producing more sounds than words. Heeseung fucking loves you like this, so he decides to add another finger to see how you'll react to that.

The second finger enters your already tight pussy and it sends your head spinning. You constrict so tightly around Heeseung, he almost thinks you're cumming, 'Holy shit, this is what just fingers do to you, dear?' 'O-Only- fuck shit- only yours,' you manage to get out.

With the biggest grin on his face he asks, 'Mmh your fingers don't have this effect?' You shake your head. 'Shit, baby, I guess we'll just have to do this more often,' he says before diving back in. This time he takes his fingers out of you and starts tongue-fucking you.

Two hands fly to his hair, trying to pull him away, 'Too much?' You nod. 'Wanna stop?' You shake your head. Heeseung snickers against your core. While he goes back to your hole, trying to push his tongue up to your sweet spot this time, his nose brushes against your clit.

The combination of stimulation has you close. Your cunt grips to Heeseung's tongue, your hands use his hair as support and your thighs start to shake violently. Heeseung continues eating you out even through you closing your legs. His head is now stuck between your inner thighs and dripping wet cunt.

If there's one place he wants to die, it's right here.

'S-shit- gonna cu-cum!' Is the last thing you yelp before a wave of ecstasy flows through you like you've never experienced before. 'Good girl, cum on my face,' Heeseung mumbles against your core whilst still riding you through your high.

'Are you okay, darling?' You nod, mind still in another place. 'Good. Are you ready for my cock now?' A finger enters your hole. Heeseung streches you out, making sure you can still take his girth. 'Your pussy certainly is.' You look at him, he's smirking wide, waiting for your verbal consent before rocking your world.

'Please be gentle,' you say as your mind slowly gets back to earth and realisation hits you that you're really about to lose your virginity to your hot friend, of whom you could only dream of fucking. 'Always, my pretty baby.'

An even darker red blush spreads your cheeks as you push yourself up a little more straight. Heeseung notices what you're trying to do and lifts you up, firm but tender. 'Are you comfortable?' 'Yeah, are you?' Your innocent, sweet, but still dazed eyes makes Heeseung's cock twitch so hard, he has to physically restrain himself from slamming his cock deep in your pussy right now.

'Y/n, baby, I'm always comfortable with you. If you're feeling any doubt, even if it's really small, tell me. We can do this another time if you're too worn down or are having d-' You interrupt his rambling by crashing your lips onto his.

'Fuck me, Heeseung. I need you.'

That's all Heeseung needs to hear. He lines himself up with your heat, teasing you by grinding against your fold, but not entering your gaping hole. 'Hee, stop playing, fuck me.' You say exasperated.

At a steady pace he slowly enters you. Both of you are gasping. Heeseung's cock larger inside of you than you expected. Heeseung on the other hand has to restrain and repeat to himself to take it slow. He sees how you're struggling taking even a fifth of him, so he can't just slam himself inside you.

After Heeseung has completely dissapeared inside of you, he stops, letting you adjust. 'You look so gorgeous right now.' Your hands shoot up to your face. You're so red you feel like your head is about to detonate. Heeseung caresses your head, smiling from ear to ear. 'Is my pretty girl ready for me to move?' You nod and Heeseung leisurely moves out of you.

Once out of you, he enters again, but this time filling you up a bit quicker. This continues until he's just short from jamming into you. 'You okay, dear?' 'Mmh.' Your face crunches up, hands now placed on Heeseung's back. He dips down to plant a kiss on your cheek, 'You're doing so good, taking me so good.'

'Hee, harder please.' Embarrassment smeared on your face as soon as the words slip out of your mouth. 'You want it harder?' He beams, 'Didn't see you as such a dirty girl, baby.' A moan comes out as Heeseung immediately ups the pressure.

His cock hitting you against your cervix, balls slapping against cunt and heavy breaths escaping Heeseung's mouth. He's such a mess, but he doesn't want to let you know. He doesn't want to let you know how much of an effect you have on him. He usually lasts rounds without cumming, but with you? God he grips the bedsheet beside your head so tight, his knuckles turn white, he's focusing more on not cumming than to pound inside you at a consistent rate.

But when your pussy clenches down hard on him due to hitting a mind-blowing spot inside you, he drops his head in your neck. He's biting his lips hard and grips your waist to stop you from creating more friction. 'Y/n, fuck you're gonna make me cum.' One of your hands glides to his hair. You pull his face up to look you in the eyes. You want to show him how good he's making you feel, since his dick makes you unable to make sentences.

'Hee, good, so fucking good.' 'You like it?' 'Uh-huh.' You bob your head fast. Heeseung's mouth falls open, he knows he's close. You can feel he's close too and you slam your lips together, kissing him fiercly.

Like a bomb, Heeseung explodes. Shots of hot cum hitting you deep in your pussy. Your tongues stop dancing as the only thing exchanging between you two are moans. The warm liquid inside you not only gives a mouth-watering sound, but makes everything feel extra sticky as Heeseung is slowly fucking the cum out of your pussy.

Heeseung pulls back, not just his mouth but his entire body. You don't want to stop. You wrap your legs around Heeseung's waist and your hands around his neck and passionately pull him back in, 'Not done yet, Hee.' Heeseung is surprised by your almost desperate attitude, but fucking loves it.

Sloppy thumps of his cock in your pussy continue. Heeseung ignores the overstimulation. How can he when you look so pretty and fucked out underneath him? So desperate for a climax, completely ignoring Heeseung's struggle to selfishly pursue the best orgasm you've ever had

Briskly, Heeseung repositions himself where he's not laying on top of you, but able to grab your thighs and fuck you hard. And so he does. He slams hard inside you, making sure he's hitting your G-spot. He rams in at a pace that has you gasping, crying and screaming all within 5 seconds. 'You like that, huh?' 'Yes! Heeseung yes!'

As your thighs start to shake and your cunt starts to clench down on him again, Heeseung knows you're gonna have an even better orgasm than before. From the overstimulation still lingering from your previous orgasm to the delicious moans coming from Heeseung's mouth, your whole body feels like it's gonna fall apart.

'Heeseung!' You scream in a high pitch as you're send over the edge. Everything collapses; your legs close tightly around Heeseung's body, your lower body moving up in the air before falling back in the mattress for your back to arch tall, pussy contracting Heeseung's cock so hard he can barely move as it's almost making him cum again, your eyes roll to the back of your head, mouth falling open with only moans and variations of Heeseung's naming falling from your lips, your hands latch on Heeseung's back and your nails digging deep into his skin, and sweat dripping down from every inch of your body.

Your head is pushed deep into the pillow with your neck strained. Once you've come back to your senses you see a proud Heeseung looking at you. His eyes shining and a smile sweet like candy. 'Knew my girl could do it.'

He slips out of you and quickly dissapears into the bathroom. Your head is still too hazy to comment something. Heeseung returns with a damp washcloth and starts cleaning you up. No words are exchanged as he cleans everything from you thighs to your face. He gently lifts you up in bridal style and sets you down on the chair at your desk. Before you can ask, Heeseung grabs a new set for everything for your bed.

When he's done he sighs, happy with himself. He grabs you a new pair of underwear and shirt and puts them on for you. You're amazed at how gentleman he is. Almost as if he can read your mind, Heeseung says, 'Only for my princess.'

Smiles are exchanged as he carries you back onto the, now freshly made, bed. You shyly close the distance between the two of you when Heeseung claims his spot next to you. Noticing your hesitation, he takes the initiative and places you on his chest. You hear his steady heartbeat in the comfortable cuddle as you both drift off to sleep.

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝! <𝟑

[bortalis]

My concepts for the development progress of an Iterators Puppet

-my ideas below

-Feasibility Study  

[1]: First autonomous control module, any instruction to be given must be done manually through physical means (the keys), outputs were shown through the screen. A very primitive system, however, did its job proving the greater machine concept was achievable. While it does look like a lens above the monitor, this was a simple status gauge for benchmarking.

-Prototyping and Development  

[2]: Now with the capability to wirelessly and audibly communicate to receive instructions and inputs. The system was no longer directly integrated into the facility, and resided on the first instance of an iterator's arm. This was considered a feat due to the complications with isolating the control module from the rest of the iterators components, while keeping processing power. A permanent connection/umbilical was needed to sustain life and function though. 

To “talk” back, they were crafted with multidimensional projectors, the mobile arm allowing the angles and variance for this projection. Only later into development were advanced speakers installed for optimized understanding, however the extra computing power required to synthesize proper speech was found to strain the contained module, so this function had rare use in the end.

[3]: At this point there was a change in perspective in the project. What once were machines to simply compute and simulate, were now planned to be the home, caregiver, and providers. The further the project came to fruition the more religious importance was placed upon these “random gods”. From this stance not only did the puppets have to manage and control their facilities, they had to communicate with the people and priests. To represent benevolent beings who will bring their end and salvation. In this process iterators began to take a more humanoid shape, to better reflect their parents. Development was focused on compacting the puppet closer to the size of an ancient for this purpose. This stage was the first to incorporate a cloak/clothing into their design considerations, to further akin themselves in looks. The cloak would hide the iterators' engineered bodies and give a body to their silhouette. 

[4]: As bioengineering and mechanics were rapidly progressing due to the void fluid revolution, this allowed plenty of margin for developing the outer design of the iterator puppets. This prototype was the first to incorporate limbs for the purpose of body language. This was another step in the drive to give a body to their random gods.

-Final Iterations

[5]: First generation iterators had the final redesign of puppet bodies. Far different from their first designs, they are fully humanoid. Their bodies are shaped to be organic and as full of life as they could at the time. Their center of sapience has fully settled within their body, as can be seen as their unconscious use of limbs without the direct intention for communication. This can also see how they manage their work, where many of the functions (which can be done with just an internal request) are operated through physical gestures of their limbs. Their puppet chambers also allow for full comprehensive projection, where many of their working monitors are displayed. It is seen how iterators prefer to utilize their traversal arm to transfer between the current working projection window.

These designs were hardy and nearly self-sufficient, only requiring minimal power from their umbilical to charge. (However was still limited in the terms of internal power production, for this first generation extensive batteries sufficed)

[6]: Later generation not only incorporated advanced bioengineering internally, but externally. While still a hardened shell, their body plates have been incorporated into the organics of the puppet, maintaining the protective requirements while barely leaving a trace of hinges or plates. This “soft” skin had drawbacks, such as reduced durability to the first generations, this was offset by the greatly enhanced repair speeds and capability this type of skin allowed.

Internal power generation was implemented into these late generation models. If the case arose, the Puppet could be disconnected from their umbilical and still be conscious from an undefined period of time. (However this would limit the operating capacity of the puppet when running self sufficiently) This greatly eased maintenance works, as the Puppet could still run the greater facility wirelessly while work was done on the chamber, arm or whatever as needed.

[julymusings]

PORTRAIT

jason hates taking photos. it's a shame you find him so beautiful.

Jason Todd isn’t one to take pictures. Standing there with a fake smile, posing for a deceptively happy vignette of an unhappy reality feels awkward. He never knows what to do with his hands. He doesn’t like the way his face translates through the lens; the green of his eyes glows just this side of too spectral, his broad, stocky frame towers over that of his siblings, and the scars on his face bring memories of a darker time, an intentional carelessness for his life he used to carry. He leans away when others huddle together to smile. Pretends to notice something behind him when caught in the background of the lens.

Enter you. Only capable of looking at him with hearts in your eyes. Serving on a silver platter what he used to starve and scavenge for in dimly lit bars on the lips of women who only saw him as something to sink their teeth into and then spit out, never sticking around for longer than one night. Jason feasted at first, he’ll admit, stuffing himself to sickness on your unconditional adoration until it was almost too much to bear.

You take pictures of him and gush over them, telling him how pretty he is. How he belongs in a museum. He never believed you, never bothering to actually look at the pictures you take. But pretty soon he’s everywhere; you set him as your lock screen and screensaver, and print photos to frame on your bedside table. When your storage is maxed out, you steal Jason’s phone to flood his camera roll, and he finds that he keeps going back to stare at the photos you take. Selfies where you kiss his cheek and his mouth curves upward just enough to transform him from brooding to disarming; portraits where he looks, not at the camera, but just beyond and his eyes crinkle, the tips of his sharp canines peeking out over his bottom lip. He looks…different. Better. He starts to believe the things you tell him; his beauty is ancient. Michelangelo himself carved the contours of his body. The Trojans and the Greeks fought for a decade over him.

But what is it about this camera, he wonders, that makes his appearance digestible? Is it the way you frame him front and center, the backlighting sun rays extending in all directions behind him, encircling him with a holiness he doesn’t deserve? The scenery against which you capture him, busy nighttime streets under city lights, just dark enough to smooth out his rough edges? 

Or maybe it’s just you. Seeing himself from your point of view. Seeing himself as yours. His hooked nose, crooked from being broken one too many times, belongs to you for the early mornings when you trace down the bridge, around his lips, and up his jaw, drawing a portrait with your fingertips. His unruly hair, with streaks of white that make him stick out like a sore thumb, exists only for you to run your fingers through when he lays his head in your lap. His scars are for you to kiss on those difficult days until he can bear to look in the mirror again. He wants nothing more than to be a museum of all things you.

Jason Todd isn’t one to take pictures. But when you ask so nicely, showering him with compliments and promises of thank-you-kisses later on, how can he say no?

why are we as a society still striving for more definition and higher quality photos for anything other than, like, x-ray imaging and space exploration. I don't want 8k ultra-max hd in my phone that highlights every hair and pore and eye bag i want grainy and dark and fuzzy because it makes me look hotter and that's a fact. rant over

anyway he's so pretty i wanna take candids of him and kiss his face and squeeze his huge ti-*GUNSHOTS*

this is gonna be my last post for the next few weeks because i have finals. see you on the other side🫡 (born to be a farmer on a remote island, forced to study STEM) i'll be on requests as soon as i'm back trust

[a-simple-imagine]

Don't They Know a Rabbit Can't Cry

Synopsis: while travelling the witches' road you're forced to confront the two witches who left you centuries ago without an explanation.

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x fem!reader x Rio Vidal

Words: 2.3k+

WARNINGS - swearing, choking, knives, nightmares, brief mentions of burning and being buried alive and playful use of 'mommy'

A LIFE ONCE LIVED //

It's a quiet evening as you pluck wildflowers in the wake of the setting sun. You would have to head home soon; to avoid the danger of navigating your way back in the dark. The older witch did not like you being out alone at night but you weren't quite done yet. The bouquet had to be perfect. Not that she would ever say otherwise. not to you anyway. Too soft. Too sweet. She had a soft spot for you. They both did. You twist the delicate stem between your fingers. Lavender. Beautiful. Intoxicating. And... hot. Sizzling against the pad of your pointer finger and thumb. And searing into the skin. You drop it quickly. Flames swallowing the single flower. Bizarre. You take another. plucking it from its spot. Flames shoot up from the ground surrounding you entirely. Red hot and roaring as the flowers make way for beautiful flames that dance in the breeze. Creeping closer and closer. Quicker and quicker. Until you feel it burn against your skin.

You jolt up. Sweaty and warm in the night's cold embrace. You're safe. Right now at least. No fire. No nothing. You rub your temple. Just a nightmare. They'd been more frequent as of late. Little flashes of the past engulfed in fiery fury. Fitting. The makeshift campsite was still. The ashes of the small fire dance in the breeze. Witches litter the ground in a moment of respite. You didn't know them but you imagine they're quite desperate. Most weren't brave enough to even dare travel the witches' road anymore. Pushing up you decide to go for a walk. Not far just enough to feel the cool air and calm your heart. Away from prying eyes. There wasn't much around here anyway.

"can't sleep?" it's a startling thing. To hear such a familiar sound so abruptly. It brings with it a quickened heart. A look of surprise. that voice. An unpleasant reminder of the past. That's all this trip seemed to be. A constant trip down memory lane. In many ways, you wish you had never agreed but maybe your darkened heart may still hold a few soft spots.

"just needed a minute alone,"

"That's a dangerous game around here," there is a playfulness to her tone. one that makes your jaw tense.

"can you just go away?" you ask. "I can't- I can't deal with this right now."

"playing hard to get?" just as playful but different. Still familiar. Annoyingly so. "what happened to that sweet girl who brought me flowers every day."

"don't," a threat. You wished not to relive the past right now. Not with them. They didn't deserve to remember you so fondly.

"made us little flower crowns." her voice travelled the woods. Surrounding you from all directions. Trapping you in your spot.

"stop."

"used to bring us fresh bread."

"fuck off," you bite back with an equally sharp turn. Subdued anger began to rise at the mere sight of them. Agatha Harkness. The harbinger of your nightmares. The years had been kind to her appearance but if rumours are to be believed she had a dark reputation. Evil. Soulless. Murderer. Maybe in another lifetime, you would have disagreed. A green witch stood to her side. Far enough away for you to know they weren't on good terms either. She sported a signature smirk you wanted to slap away. Rio Vidal. Infuriating in every conceivable way. They both brought different feelings. Similar but still different. "why can't you just leave me alone?

"we're only checking on you, dear,"

"After such a scary nightmare." Rio teased. "do you need to get in mommy's bed tonight?"

You take a deep breath. Don't raise to her level. Don't give her the satisfaction. It's not quite admitting defeat but you're tired. Falling against a nearby tree. "please leave." you let your head fall back against the bark.

"I'm sure Agatha won't mind,"

"leave the poor girl alone," as always Agatha comes in to mediate. It's always just a little misleading. The woman crouches down before you. Glassy eyes bore into yours and for a moment you're that girl again. The one they remember. Who picked flowers and planned picnics? Ran in the meadow and liked to sit at the edge of the lake. Who held on tight to Agatha's hand as she walked you home. You didn't have much back then. Lived in a small cottage in the woods with your family. The older witch came into your life so abruptly. Looking back on it now she probably just saw a naive girl she could play with. "are you okay?" her question brings you back to reality. The here and now. Stuck on the road with a bunch of washed-up witches and the two people you hate most in the world. Stuck in a never-ending cycle of reliving the past. The end seemed so far away. Who knows if you'll even make it that far with this useless bunch. "do you wanna tell us about it?"

"Agatha," said softly.

"yes, dear?"

"fuck. Off." quiet but firm. You can tell she wasn't expecting it. A little chuckle sounds from behind her. The witch raises.

"fine." Agatha answers. "forgotten how stubborn you can be." your eyes trail after her as she begins to walk away, Rio takes a moment before following. And the question that has been bubbling in your chest for centuries finally comes up.

"Why did you leave me?" they slow to a stop. Yet to turn back. Did you even really want to know the answer? Perhaps it was a question best left unanswered. Years of bitterness already seeped into your bones. Little to be said to make you less angry at them. Less murderous rage. "what did I do?"

"Nothing," Agatha urges. Short and simple. No explanation needed apparently. "don't stay up too late,"

"then why?" you asked again. a little louder. A little firmer. Why was she acting like this? Pretending she cared. It was infuriating.

"Just tell her," Rio presses, turning back to you.

"don't," Agatha places her hand on Rio's shoulder but that doesn't stop the green witch from sulking towards you. A malicious little smile.

"come on, look at her," a knife pointed in your direction as she makes her way over. "just as pitiable as she always has been." she crouches down in front of you much like Agatha had before. But you don't see that girl you once were. Her eyes fill you with anger. It's strange to think you used to admire her so. Used to put flowers in her hair, and she let you. The tip of her blade forces your head up ever so slightly. "A pathetic little girl. Scared of the world," a sharp pain. You swallow hard  "scared of anything real."

"Rio," Agatha walks up, towering over you two. "put it away,"

"Why should I?" she wonders. Pressing a little harder. "tell her."

"What happened to you?" Agatha questions. Your eyes flicker up to her. Did she really want to know or was it diversion. "where does this hate come from?"

"you left me," you reply. A loud bark of laughter from Rio as her blade lowers.

"no," the woman shakes her head slowly. "that's... not it."

"boring," Rio groans loudly. "I didn't lie, y'know? I know you don't want to believe me but it's true. Isn't it Agatha?" the woman rises to her feet. Patting the other witch on the shoulder. "we left because you were weak."

"it... it wasn't quite like that," Agatha offers out a hand. You brush it off, standing up. "we thought you'd be better off."

"alone?"

"without us." Agatha corrects. "you were so..." her eyes trail over you. "different back then. You didn't know you were a witch. You were just so..."

"innocent," Rio insists.

"no- well, yes but not in the way you might think. You just needed a push and we were being so careful,"

"soft," Rio interjects once more.

This little game of back-and-forth was cute. But you didn't care. Rio was using it as an excuse to get some sick sense of pleasure from throwing in insults while Agatha was doing anything to avoid saying what she thought. You knew Agatha. She could be just as mean as Rio. "can you get to the point?"

"you already know," you ignore Rio, looking straight at Agatha.

"We wanted to protect you," you can't help but roll your eyes. That was the best excuse she could come up with. Some fairytail bullshit. "felt easier to leave." you glance at Rio who looked just as over it as you did.

"Agatha thought you'd be better off without us. That we shouldn't be dragging you into a world you weren't ready for. Blah blah blah. Too weak to come with us. If we left you wouldn't get caught up in anything bad,"

"Rio was actually the one who didn't want to go,"

"Whatever," she huffs. Her gaze down at the knife in her hand; twisting the edge against the tip of her forefinger. "I thought it'd be worse if we just left you. that it'd fuck with you- we just needed to be harsher."

"but I was right,"

"you were wrong," Rio answers.

"How? I mean look at her," Agatha ushers towards you. "a full-fledged witch. Survived centuries. That's something. You didn't need us."

"do you wanna tell her or should I?" you wonder if Rio is genuine in her question or if this was just another attempt at teasing. This conversation had mainly been between the two of them.

"Tell me what?"

"I wasn't... okay, Agatha," you admit for perhaps the first time ever out loud. Only Rio knows what happened to you in the years between them leaving and the last time you saw her. You made sure of that. The two of them had grand legacies but you wanted to be forgotten in history. Like the legend of Bloody Mary. Not a sole dare speaks your name anymore because who knows what'll happen if you show up.

"oh bunny," a pet name you hadn't heard in a very long time. It almost seemed childish now. Pathetic. "just talk to me."

"you don't care,"

"god do I have to do everything around here," Rio complains. "she was tried as a witch, Agatha. Use your head for once."

"Rio," you huff.

She rolls her eyes. "burned at the stake."

"Rio," you snarl. "stop. I don't wanna talk about it."

"yes you do," she responds sharply. "you want nothing more than to make Agatha Harkness feel guilty for leaving you. Hurt her the way she hurt you." you dart for her in one swift motion. A hand around her neck. The teasing just becoming too much, and you were sick of hearing her talk.

"you hurt me too," you bark, shoving her against the nearest tree. What should be fear is instead a small smirk and dark eyes.

"fiesty," she quips. She knows you won't kill her. You can't.

"you're the only person to ever leave a mark." you resume. "an ugly scar that my body just refuses to heal."

"come on sweet one." you drive a little harder. "make it hurt."

"do you know what it's like to be tied up and buried in a coffin? To slowly suffocate to death over and over and over again," fingernails dig into the skin of her neck. You can see it's having an effect. The wobble in her smile. "the way your body screams for oxygen. Your insides burning with desire but there is nothing you can do?"

"drop her," Agatha's hand reaches your shoulder and your powers kick in. Your free hand waves her away. Energy blasts her backwards and she stumbles to the ground. A lesser witch wouldn't know of Agatha's ability to drain magic but you were smarter than that. careful in your use despite the speed. control what's around her rather than directly blasting her.

"don't touch me," you growl.

"our... little girl... is all grown... up," choked out of Rio's mouth. You watch her grow a little paler. A little more starved for breath. And then you drop her. She crumbles to the floor. "and filled..." she coughs. "with... murderous rage... apparently."

"calm down," Agatha tries from her place on the floor, as she tries to get up. You use your magic to help her up. Leaving her hovering just a few feet off the ground.

"y'know, when they dragged me from bed and burned me at the stake all I could think about was you two. Surely, they didn't just leave without a word. They'll... come back and help me." you can still picture that night. The confusion. the heat. The pain. "you left me," you walk towards Agatha. "and look at you now. The great Agatha Harkness is completely powerless."

"we're sorry, okay- aren't we rio?" rio shrugs a little. With a heavy sigh, you drop Agatha to the ground. "you've come a long way bunny."

"wasn't really a choice,"

"Can we just backtrack a little," the older witch requests. Brushing herself off as she stands back up.

"immortality looks good on you," Rio teases. You hold up a middle finger.

"you're immortal?"

"for the longest time, I thought one of you cursed me with it. Some fucked up way of protecting me. But then I went looking for you. Heard all about your extra circular activities. Witch killer, hiding behind dark magic," Agatha just looks back as you turn to Rio. She knew the story. "Rio was easier to find,"

"should have stayed dead," Rio insisted, the cold metal blade dancing across the scar on your neck. "how easier that would be," you shove her away and she just chuckles. "oh how I missed this," she wonders over to were Agatha is stood.

"I'm going back to sleep," you announce. "let's just leave it at that,"

"Why did you come," Agatha asks. You wonder if it's worth the conversation. The headache of continuing to engage with them. "if you hate me so much?"

"to die," you say eventually as you head back to camp.

// NEXT

[hermajestyimher]

P*rn, dating apps/hook up culture, and 50/50 normalization are the three main culprits as to why the men of this generation seem so different than men from previous ones, and why so many beautiful and accomplished women are unable to secure a relationship without settling. Men always had their issues collectively, but it was never to the degree that we see today, and it’s largely due to the normalization from an early age to those three things.

The brains of men these days have been wired in a completely overly s3xualized manner. They don’t view women as people but as objects of strict desire and nothing else. Consumption of p*rn has not only given them unrealistic expectations of intimacy, it has influenced their s3xual orientations (see DL epidemic), and their social behaviour. Nowadays many don’t find regular girls attractive, which is why they choose to engage in “taboo” activities to feel some arousal. This leads them to becoming socially inept and to falling easy prey to manosphere content that only reinforces the objectification and dehumanization of women.

Dating apps then come in as an easy way for these men get the illusion of options, because while they might be generally not attractive, in the apps they get instant access to women they otherwise would never have in real life. And because many women have become desperate, by entertaining these men and giving them easy access to their bodies, the men no longer feel like they have to improve and work on themselves to attract a quality partner. It also gives them the idea that women are disposable because at any point they can ghost them for no reason and then swipe right to get another one. It makes them devalue access to us.

This easy access is then transferred to their expectations of relationships. They abuse the concept of equality to manipulate women into financially abusive arrangements where she’s expected to provide fiscally while also performing her feminine duties and taking care of a grown, able-bodied man. Naturally this continues to reinforce men’s lack of respect and gratitude for women in their lives, while increasing their own sense of self-importance, narcissism, ineptitude, and ungratefulness.

Obviously women are not responsible for the actions of men, but we do have the power to not reinforce and condone their sick ways. By deleting dating apps, standing our ground when we oppose 50/50 dating, and choosing to remain abstinent until marriage, we are taking the power dynamics back to our advantage. No, you are not unreasonable for not wanting to be with a man who consumes p*rn, or who wants to be sexually fluid with other men, or who views red pill content that dehumanizes you, or seems unwilling to provide things for you and cherish you in his life. It’s on you to stand firm in your decision to only entertain the gentlemen whose mindsets haven’t been completely fried by modern societal trends.

The “male loneliness epidemic” that we hear so much about is entirely self inflicted (not that anyone cares when it’s women who are lonely), and it’s a direct response to women saying no more to men who exhibit the behaviours outlined above. Hold the line, because they either leave their toxic ways and get better, or they will doom themselves to a life of solitude. Either way, that is their responsibility to fix, not yours.

[dedalvs]

Today is my 44th birthday. I was brought to my mother’s arms as Ronald Reagan was being sworn in and then went to the airport to welcome the Iranian hostages home—a meeting we now know was pre-arranged, as Reagan’s team negotiated to keep the hostages in captivity a little bit longer just so it could be Reagan, as opposed to Carter, who got the credit for releasing them.

Every four years my birthday falls on a US presidential inauguration. Some of those days are good; some are bad; some are terrible. Today is certainly one of the worst.

My birthday also sometimes falls on the day the US honors Martin Luther King, Jr.—or, when it doesn’t, always on a day very close to it. I always spend some time on my birthday thinking of him, too. Like all of us, he wasn’t perfect, but more and more what I think about regarding his legacy is how some of the things he said have been cherry-picked and stored like prize possessions in jeweled boxes for admiring every so often while the rest has been buried. MLK was an outspoken opponent of the Vietnam War, of income inequality, and of capitalism. Of all things I remember the first time I heard anything by him about that was in college when I happened into a record store in San Francisco and heard one of his speeches (not the “I have a dream” speech) remixed in a song.

Often you will hear that you should focus on what you can control. This is true, when it comes to your own personal well being—your state of mind. I feel like there should be a balance, though. Sometimes your well being is well enough that you can spare the anguish that comes with worrying about the state of the world—the many injustices you can’t fix, either by yourself or right away. We need that to push us to actually fix these things, either in small individual ways or collectively, through both direct and indirect action.

Each of us at different times in or lives—or on a micro level, at different times of the week or year—goes in and out of phases where we must focus on self-care and phases where we can look outward. Today I hope we can treat ourselves and each other with a little kindness when it comes to recognizing where it is we need to be in a given moment. Looking around on social media, it may seem that some are always on—always fighting, always pushing for change—and some are always off—cat memes, shipping, fandom. But that’s nothing but a small window into a person. First, that’s simply how that person interacts with one social media platform; it’s not their entire life. Second, it may be that this is the place they come to unwind—or, alternatively, this is the only place in their life where they can share the rage inside of them. Whoever they are, however they are, let them be, and offer them kindness. It’s going to take all of us to fight back.

[rosesnbooks]

Astrology observations #5🖤

🌜I wrote these for fun, based on how i see these placements. i'm not a professional! hope you enjoy these🌛

⭐cancer placements allow themselves to feel their emotions. they may get annoyed by the intensity or the amount of them, but they process them fully, and this makes it easier for them to move on. random thought but writing letters to people they like may be something they do or did as kids haha. they're very romantic

⭐some aries venuses have obsessive tendencies when they have a crush, and they get frustrated a lot if they think they can't/shouldn't pursue them. they enjoy the tension, but they don't want it to last too long because they dislike not being in control, and having feelings for someone leaves them feeling too vulnerable. that's why they try to move on if they can, but it takes work. when they do find someone, they become really clingy but they still need freedom when it suits them

⭐mars in libra avoid conflicts and try to be reasonable about everything, but if they think you crossed a line, you'll see why aries is their sister sign pretty soon. once they tell you off, you'll never see them the same way, so underrestimate them at your cost

⭐having stelliums can be interesting. it for sure puts a lot of emphasis on the influence of that house on your life, and i found that it can be both positive and negative since they face lots of challenges related to their house but also many blessings. those who have stelliums kind of embody multiple characteristics simultaneously

⭐sun in the 11th people glow when they are with their closest friends. they also tend to dream big and care a lot about the world. their friends usually help them in their future goals. they feel a bit different than people in their hometown/country, mostly because they cannot be tied down to a single culture because they enjoy different things, which usually makes them quite open-minded and tolerant. they can be picky about the people they let in super close though

⭐mars in the 6th can procrastinate a lot actually, but they get things done. may get sudden waves of high energy and get things done rapidly and extensively. they expect a lot from themselves regarding their ambitions and aspirations. they try to improve themselves in any way most of the time, but they should also accept their current state if they want to evolve and love themselves. they need to watch out for their moral perfectionism too. it's okay to make mistakes as long as you apologise and strive to change for the better

⭐i've found that virgo mercuries can be really direct, even if they are shy or don't talk much around strangers or acquaintances, they have their moments. super funny too

⭐north node in cancer struggle with accepting their vulnerable side. they hate feeling like things and people can evoke strong emotions in them. they want to be more detached, but those that work on themselves find it very rewarding once they embrace their strong emotions. they can also be really reliable, practical, and thoughtful

⭐fire+water combinations in birth charts-i am sending you a hug. i know exactly how difficult it is to keep all those emotions under check, and that you need a lot of understanding and rest to function. use those emotions and passions well hun, you are strong and capable. you have a lot of empathy and wonder inside of you

⭐capricorn sun/mercury have a dry way of texting. their humor is difficult to read via text and they simply are not fans of texting, and it shows lol

⭐aries mercuries are not always available online and they may come and go when they're online, but they'll answer all of your messages one by one with lots of enthusiasm. they also like to send memes and joke around a lot

⭐virgo mercuries are not fans of texting and they can answer you after a couple of days or so even if they really like you. similarly to aries, they'll make sure they answer everything and they also pay attention to every detail you mention. very sweet really. their humor shines brighter in person

⭐taurus moon are very capable. they may prefer rest over anything else, but their patience and dedication to the things they need to do is really cool. they are calm most of the time so it's nice to be around them, just don't disrespect them and everyone will thrive

⭐taurus venus men can be really possessive. even if you like such behavior, some can go to extremes and try to control how you feel, think, and behave. they have a specific image of an ideal partner and they want you to fulfill it

⭐libra venus tend to care about how they look and present themselves so they put lots of effort into that. they also have standards when it comes to beauty and some expect others to dress and look well, whether they know them or not

⭐women with venus in aquarius-you may be attracted to men who are mysterious and act like they're special. just be careful because there are so many toxic ones out there who want a relationship but not truly, because they don't want to dedicate themselves to you and maybe plan on using you

⭐pisces moon can feel like they're drowning in their own emotions sometimes because they cannot control them easily and they tend to give in. if they like to portray themselves as a martyr these emotions can get out of hand because they let those emotions lead them which influences their mental health and relationships. those who are developed process these emotions and try to figure them out and let them pass. they can learn a lot about themselves and others this way. creative outlets can be of help to process this

⭐leo moon need to watch out for hurting people when their ego is hurt because they can lash out and make lots of damage. take a second to think whether it's worth it or not, since there is no point in trying to "win" in a fight with someone you love

⭐pisces mars can be too forgiving, especially to those they care about. don't let people walk over you dear, no matter who they are. nobody deserves that kind of treatment

thank you for reading!🤍i also offer paid astrology readings, so check out my blog for more info

©rosesnbooks

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Luffy X Reader: Love bites

Only joined the One piece fandom recently and i'm already obsessed with Luffy ❤️

Warnings: Smut, public sex (they're asleep but still), biting, hickeys, oral (f reciving), cum eating, unprotected sex, penetration(p in v), fingering, handjob, kissing, fluff, luffy being luffy.

Word Count: 3,2K

The crew had just come back from a rather successful adventure and decided to celebrate over some drinks. Some drinks turned into many drinks and now you found yourself surrounded by your drunken crew mates, the moonlight shining against you. Usopp was passed out on the floor mumbling in his sleep, Nami and Zoro were having a contest to see who could do the most acrobatics without getting nauseous and Sanji was off to the side flirting with a statue you'd retrieved in your mission. You observed your crew with a small smile. You hadn't drank as much as the others so you were just a little buzzed. Maybe a little more giggly than normal but nothing too bad. You closed your eyes, breathing in the salt air.

You loved this life. The pirate life. Sure, you were constantly on the run and it seemed everyone had something against your crew but it didn't matter. You felt at home with your bundle of misfits. Your odd little family. You'd owe Luffy for the rest of your life for dragging you along. Without him you'd still be stuck on your little island withering away in boredom and loneliness. Luffy had this effect on him, this hidden talent of finding people who needed him without them even knowing it. Luffy was…. 

Where the hell was he?

You opened your eyes abruptly, searching the ship for your raven haired Captain. Nothing. Luffy was nowhere to be seen. He was probably in the kitchen you thought. Just as you were about to close your eyes again you felt something grab you. Your instinct was to fight but when you saw his familiar smile the fear disappeared. Luffy had wrapped his arms around you and dragged you over to where he was sitting. He'd dragged you across the ship like you weighed nothing. Even after knowing him for a while his abilities still surprised you. 

"Hi Luffy.”

“Hi!”

His breath smelled of alcohol and his words came out slower than usual. You couldn't help but smile at the way he looked, all blissed out and beautiful. Falling for Luffy was easy. Inevitable even. He just had this energy to him, this magnetic pulse that seemed to drag you to him. 

The rest of the crew felt it too. It was why they decided to join him on his adventure with little hesitation. But what you felt was different. You’d catch yourself admiring your Captain constantly. It didn’t matter if you were in a fight, running for your lifes or just hanging out on the Merry your eyes always seemed to dart in his direction. You wondered if the crew noticed it. You thought you were very discreet with it, sneaky even. Sure there were times when your gaze would linger for too long but no one had ever mentioned anything so you thought you were safe. It’s funny how oblivious people can be when they choose to believe something. 

“You okay Luffy?”

“Better now.”

Luffy’s arms wrapped around your thorax like an odd meaty corset. You gasped slightly when you felt him lift your body up and place you on his lap, your legs settling on the sides of his thighs. Luffy was an affectionate person. He loved  physical touch but this was another level of contact. One you weren’t used to receiving. You placed your hands on Luffy’s shoulders forcing him to release you slightly so you could look at his face. 

“Are you sure you’re okay Captain?”

Luffy closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in as he did. When he opened his eyes once again there was an odd look to them. You were used to seeing his bright eyes opened wide with joy or wrinkling on the sides as he smiled, something he did a lot. But now his eyes had a certain look to them. They looked a lot like they did when he was serious about something but there was a slight twist. A sort of seductive energy to his gaze. His eyes bore into yours causing you to swallow dry. Luffy tilted his head to the side a little before moving to look at his arms wrapped around you. You watched as he licked his lips slowly. You opened your mouth to ask him once more if he was alright but before you could do so Luffy pulled your chest flush to his and sank his face into your neck. You felt his nose move against your collarbone, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling.

“You smell so good.”

You felt him take a deep breath in, the warm air tickling your skin. 

“Could eat you up.”

“Luffy, are you sure you’re-Ah!”

Luffy’s teeth sank into your neck without warning causing you to moan out. Before you could even process what was happening Luffy was already kissing the place where he’d bit you, his tongue lapping over the tender skin before sucking gently. Your head lulled to the side instinctively giving your Captain more access to your flesh. Your breath came out in short bursts as Luffy continued to lavish your neck in hickeys. You didn't expect this. Not from your Captain. Not from Luffy. Yet here you were. 

Your hands moved to the back of his neck grabbing the hair on the base and giving it a small tug when Luffy gave you a particularly rough suck. Luffy groaned at the feeling, his hips moving up to rut against yours. You felt the stiff outline of his dick against your clothed cunt. This is really happening. You weren't just imagining things. The thought seemed to snap you out of your lustfull daze. You grabbed Luffy's hair tugging him on your neck with force. Your Captain glanced at you questiongly calling out your name in a whisper.

“What's wrong?”

“You're drunk Luffy.”

“So are you.”

“Not as much as you are. I’ll remember this in the morning. I won’t regret it but you-”

“What makes you think I'd regret this?”

You opened and closed your mouth trying to come up with a good answer. The truth was you weren’t used to people desiring you. You’d grown up in a place where everyone made you feel like you weren’t enough. Not pretty enough, not smart enough, not good enough. After being told that your entire life it’s hard to believe it isn’t true. And Luffy was, well he was Luffy. Luffy your friend, Luffy your captain. Luffy the boy who had saved you. The boy you loved. Woah, first time you'd allowed yourself to admit that.

“Hey.”

Luffy seemed to sense your fears, his hands unlatching from your body so that he could hold your face.

“There are better people out there, Luffy.”

“I don't want better. I want you.”

Your eyes widened at Luffy's words, lips quivering slightly. You placed your head against his nuzzling your nose against his. Luffy grinned against your skin before placing a peck on your lips. You leaned back, glancing at Luffy's lustful eyes before latching your lips to his. The kiss was messy, the way Luffy liked it. He devoured your mouth, sucking at your bottom lip. You opened your mouth to him, tongues tangling with each other in a sort of desperate dance. Luffy's hands found their way to your ass grabbing onto the flesh roughly. You moaned against his open mouth, hips grinding down on his crotch. 

“Ah porra, isso gatinha.” (Oh fuck, thats it darling.)

You didn’t understand anything when Luffy spoke Portuguese but the sound of his voice when he talked in his mother tongue did something to you. You pressed your thighs against Luffy's legs trying to get some much needed friction. Your captain noticed your needs, his hands travelling down to your pants. His fingers toyed with the buttons before glancing up at you.

“Can i?”

“Yes please Luffy. Need you.”

The whine in your voice made Luffy growl, his hands working rapidly to gain access to your pussy. The moments his digits found their way to your folds you keened. Your body launched forward, head resting on Luffy's chest. He played with your folds, gathering up your juices in his fingers.

“So wet for me baby.”

“Only for my Captain.”

Luffy liked being called Captain in general but the way the title sounded slipping out from your lips did something unspeakable to him. He plunged a finger into your cunt grinning at the small moan that escaped your lips. He thrusted his finger into you for a moment before adding another one. You gripped onto Luffy's arm, your nails digging into his forearm. Your eyes fell on Luffy's arm as he fingered you, watching the muscles contract as his hand worked on bringing you to bliss. You didn’t expect it, the thought had never occurred to you but before you knew it you were sinking your teeth into Luffy's bicep. Luffy's hand stopped moving against your pussy, his whole body going rigid. Fuck. Did he not like it? Had you ruined the mood with your actions?

“Luffy i’m so-”

“Do that again.”

“Huh?”

“Do that again.”

Luffy's voice dropped an octave as he spoke, his eyes glossed over and his pupils blown wide. You looked at him hesitating for a moment before biting down on his arm again. The moan that ripped itself from Luffy's throat was feral. His hips bucked up into your forcing his fingers to go deeper into your pussy and causing you to let out a moan of his name. Your hand clasped around your mouth, eyes widening as you remembered where you were. You turned your body so that you could see where the others were. A sigh of relief left your lips when you realised that the rest of your crew were passed out. Completely unaware of what you and their Captain were getting up to. You turned your attention back to Luffy caressing his hair before placing another kiss to his lips. You bit his lip and tugged causing his skin to stretch a little as you did. You let out a giggle.

“Sorry!”

“It’s okay. I liked it”

“Oh yeah?”

You repeated your action this time grinding your hips down on his as you did. Luffy gritted out your name, teeth finding your neck once more as he bucked up into you. He removed his fingers from your cunt and shoved them in his mouth. 

“So sweet. Taste so good.”

Luffy's innocent eyes glance up at you.

“Let me taste you.” “You don’t have to Luffy.”

“I want to. Please let me eat it.”

“Oh-okay.”

Luffy manoeuvred you off his lap laying you down on the bench. You watched as he tugged down your pants exposing your cunt to him. Even in the dark you could see the smile that appeared on his face as he glanced at your pussy. He kneeled on the ground tugging you by legs. He placed either leg on his shoulders, his fingers playing with your folds. 

“Look at that. So pretty.”

“Luffy please…”

Luffy didn’t want you to beg. He had no desire to tease you. All he wanted was to make you feel good. And that was exactly what he did. Luffy ate you out like you were the last meal he’d ever have. You had to bite into your hand to keep yourself from moaning too loud and waking the others. The thought of one of them waking up and finding you like this scared you but in a strange way it also gave you a small thrill. You liked the thought of people seeing Luffy worshipping you like you were the only person in the blue sea. Luffy enjoyed the thought too but for a completely different reason. He liked the idea of the crew seeing that he was the one who made you feel like this. That you were his and his alone. You didn’t notice it because you didn’t value yourself but anyone in the crew would worship the ground you walked on if you’d let them. But you’d chosen Luffy and he wanted everyone to know it.

“Luffy baby-Uh ah-i’m close!”

Luffy wanted you to cum, he wanted to see the way your face scrunched and your eyes rolled back but he didn’t know if he could last much longer without being inside you.

“Can I put it in?”

“What?”

“Can i fuck you right?”

Your orgasm was clouding your mind and Luffy's fingers made it hard to think straight so it took you a moment to understand what he was asking. The second you understood you nodded your head enthusiastically.

“Please Luffy, need you baby. Need you inside.”

Luffy's arms wrapped around you once more lifting your limp body with ease before settling you down on his hips again. Your hands found their way into his pants grabbing a hold of his cock and making him hiss. You licked a strip down your hand tugging Luffy's pants down so that his dick could be free. You watched the pre cum leak from his shaft, your thumb moving to collect it before placing it in your mouth. You sucked on your thumb, eyes never leaving Luffys as you did. You gave his cock a couple of strokes, observing his Adam's apple move as you fastened your pace. Luffy's hand wrapped around yours stopping your motion. You raised your eyebrow in question. 

“If you keep doing that I'll cum.”

“Maybe that's what I want.”

“Well I plan on cumming inside that pretty pussy of yours.”

You paused, surprised at Luffy's words. You didn’t imagine something so naughty could come out of the sweet boy's mouth.

“If that's okay with you that is.”

“Oh sweet Luffy.”

You leaned down so that your mouth was near Luffy's ear before whispering. 

“I want you to stuff me full.”

That did it. Luffy's hands moved to wrap around your thighs, lifting you up so that he could line his dick up with your entrance. The both of you moaned as your bodies joined. Your walls fluttered around Luffy's dick making him bite down on your shoulder. You sank your hands into his hair, grinding your hips against him slowly.

“Luffy you have to move…please-ah uh- move.”

You started to set the pace, bouncing up and down on Luffy's cock with ease. After a while your legs began to hurt and your rhythm started to falter. Luffy could tell you were close to cumming, not being so behind himself, and decided to take over. He began pistolling into you using his arms as leverage. In a matter of seconds the two of you were seeing white. You screamed out Luffy's name as you came, feeling his seed paint your walls. The two of you stayed silent against each other trying to catch your breath. You heard someone stir behind you causing you to look back. You went to get off of Luffy but his hands held you in place.

“Luffy someone’s awake we have to-”

“Shhh wait a minute.”

Usopp appeared from the other side of the deck, his hands against his head as he stumbled over. He didn’t seem to notice where he was going but then his eyes fell on you. He called out your name and you ignored him, hiding your face in Luffy's neck.

“Luffy is she okay?”

“Yeah she’d just tired. I’m going to take her to bed.”

Luffy stood up his dick shifting against your sensitive walls. You moaned and Luffy hissed at the feeling. Luffy's arms were wrapped around your ass in a way that made it impossible to notice you weren’t wearing any pants. You could feel Luffy's seed running down your bare thigh. 

“Oh okay. I think I'll go to bed too. My head is killing me.”

“Goodnight!”

“Night Captain.”

Luffy watched Usopp pass by the two of you without doubting a thing. He even stopped for a moment and whispered goodnight to you, completely unaware of what was happening. As soon as your sharpshooter was out of view Luffy raced across the deck to his bedroom. When the two of you arrived he unwrapped his arms from you and placed you on his bed immediately tugging you to the edge and kneeling down. Luffy spent the rest of the night with his face buried in your cunt pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you.

You woke up the next morning wrapped around Luffy's sheets. A small smile found its way onto your face as you recalled last night's event. You turned to snuggle into Luffy but instead you were greeted with an empty bed. You got up, grabbing your clothes from the floor and putting them on. You smoothed your hair with your hand, yawning as you made your way out of Luffy's room. You walked over to the kitchen. Just as you had expected, you found Sanji and Zoro.

“Morning boys.”

You smiled at the cook who winked at you before glancing at Zoro. The swordsman had a smirk plastered on his face.

“What is it moss head?”

“Someone had a good night.”

You froze for a moment but then regained your composure. There was no way he knew. They had been fast asleep. Zoro was testing you and you weren’t going to fall for it.

“I have no idea what you're talking about Zoro.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“I mean it moss head. Nothing happened. I drank with you guys and then went to bed okay? Whatever you think happened must have been some drunk hallucination.”

“I’d believe you. If it weren’t for those.”

“For what-”

Oh shit. You glanced at your reflection in one of the pans eyes falling on the purple bruises littered all over your neck and chest. You looked at Sanji and then at Zoro.

“Shut up.”

“We didn’t say anything.”

“Hey it’s alright, everyone deserves a good time.”

“Yeah well at least I wasn't flirting with a chunk of rock last night.”

With that you left the kitchen ,the sound of Zoro's laughter being muffled as you made your way to the deck. You passed Nami and Ussop on the way, giving them a brisk good morning and not missing the way their eyes moved from your face to the hickeys on your body.

“Quiet.”

“Didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah yeah. Where's Luffy?”

Ussop pointed to the top of the Merry. You thanked him and made your way towards the straw hat pirate. Luffy was sitting crossed leg on top of the head of the lamb. You made your way over, calling out his name. He turned at the sound of your voice, greeting you with a smile. He got up and met you halfway.

“Goodm-uff.”

Luffy pulled you into a kiss which you returned. You pulled away after a while smiling wide as you looked at Luffy. 

“Sit with me?”

“Sure.”

You began to sit down but Luffy was quicker. He grabbed your body and dragged you onto his lap. You laughed as he nuzzled into your neck. He placed a kiss on the marks he’d made last night before moving to give your forehead a kiss. You grinned, caressing his hair lovingly. You could get used to this. Just the sea, Luffy and your crew. A good life. One you deserved.

[theveryworstthing]

time to learn a little bit about the Yells. i've been writing a few lore posts for a while and instead of continuing to let they grow and fretting over them, i think i'm just going to throw a few out there and try to finish up the rest this week.

The Yells

Despite their imposing size, strange behaviors, and mysterious keepers, the Signallusc (or The Yells as most rabbits call them) are considered just another part of the island landscape. These towering faux trees serve as the island version of radio towers, and make all radio communication above and below ground possible.

Though the 2 largest of the naturally formed Yells are still upright and active (and heavily protected so that their natural life cycle can be properly studied), these days rabbits prefer to cultivate the towers so that they don’t grow in problematic areas or do…other things.

Wild or free growth Yells make their homes in dead rotting wood as natural decomposers, and many live out their lives as simple slime molds (or as simple as any slime mold can be). Certain conditions must be met to trigger the drastic color change and vertical growth that make them viable for communication use, and so wild Yells are usually found growing in small clusters in or around the resources they need to sustain their new forms. Dead trees or stumps with roots still in the ground are prime hosts for these slime molds and they’re actually seen as beneficial since they stabilize potentially dangerous dead trees and kill diseases or especially destructive insects that might harm surrounding living trees. Once inside these dead trees the slime mold eats them from the inside out, taking the branches first, and then devouring the mass from the top down.

Compared to other slime molds they can handle direct sunlight quite well, but wild yells still tend to favor hosts in shady areas and from the way these trees are devoured they seem to try and keep some sort of shell around them for as long as possible. This wooden shell not only serves as food, but also gives the growing Yell a moist, dark, home until its outer membrane is thick and strong enough to handle being constantly exposed. When wild Yells “die”, it’s usually because they’ve run out of host tree long ago, and have stiffened into a rigid structure that eventually cracks (usually due to being struck by lightning) and crumbles, releasing clouds of spores. The remains of a Yell dissolve in the first rain after they fall and tend to leave the area around the strange lotus pod-ish pit in the ground where “roots” used to be spotless, but smelling very metallic with a hint of foulness. Almost like not so fresh blood.

Through the observations recorded by island botanists and the specific botanical sect known as the Antenna, rabbits (and hares, as they were the first to investigate and made great strides in understanding the process before they left the island en masse) have learned exactly what triggers Yell vertical growth and have used this knowledge to cultivate Yells quite successfully. A combination of owl feathers, metal ore (mainly bog iron), charcoal sticks and or ash (best if created by lightning strike, wood preferred but animal remains like burned out hawks are perfectly acceptable), and a little starter wood are fed to the slime mold, and after it’s broken everything down it begins its transformation. It is then introduced to a host plant sprout, a type of fast growing, woody, creeping vine in the Grasp family bred specifically for this purpose (wild cultivars work fine but they’re half as hardy and the bond has a greater chance of triggering very upsetting mutations. These are different from the upsetting mutations, which are fine and harmless). From then on the slime mold seems to guide the host plant’s growth, forming a shell from the vines that is constantly growing and shedding. This serves as both a home and an ample food source.

The botany world is torn on whether this forms a mutualistic symbiotic relationship or whether it’s straight up parasitism. And yes, plant nerd blood has been spilled over this argument. Not a ton of blood, it’s not like this is the great lichen wars, but still.

The Antenna

All yell care-taking is done by the Antenna sect. This is a mysterious group of witchy botanists and engineers who, like the previously referred to upsetting mutations, are harmless despite their entire vibe. Well. Harmless enough for botanists anyway.

Not a lot is known about them by the general public but they keep things working smoothly and show up quickly when something isn’t.

Members of this sect haven’t had a set “look” or uniform for about a generation and a half due to the ending of a lot of the the founding member’s bloodlines, but each Yell site has it’s own culture that attracts certain kinds of people. Despite their differences, there are a few things that make Antennae easier to pick out of a crowd if you know what to look for. The skin of their inner ears develop thin branching markings or wave-like ripples depending on how they interact with Yells. Some have obvious hare ancestry and sport roughly branching horns that grow quite long and shed every year (these shed horns are fed to the Yells). Newer members wear a lot of lightweight ear jewelry to help pick up important signals and behavioral quirks from the Yells, but the longer they stay in the Antenna the less tolerant they are of this. Things get…loud. Behind their eyes. Inside their teeth. Seasoned members usually can’t stand wearing any metal jewelry at all. The head botanist of one of the most remote Yells wears ear plugs almost 24/7 because of left behind shrapnel from an accident in his youth.

He is deaf.

He says he’s not really blocking anything out, just sorting it properly.

No one really knows what he means. It’s fine.

[prettieinpink]

REBRANDING YOURSELF

COLLAB WITH THE HOTTIE????!!!!!!! @honeytonedhottie. LMAO NOT US PLANNING THIS IN LIKE DEC THEN RELEASING IN APRIL. I luv you so much ur my fav moot. moots who collab together, stay together. Check out her post on her page too, as usual, she makes the best points so y'all better listen.

Rebranding is a process in which you redefine who you are and how others perceive you. Each journey of rebranding yourself is personal and individual. When you rebrand yourself, you further align yourself with your higher you. This post is a guide to getting started on your journey!

UNDERSTAND YOUR CURRENT SELF.

So, take a step back and think about who you are as an individual right now. What are your values and beliefs? Does your external self reflect your inner self? Are you comfortable in your current environment?

These questions and more will help to see which aspects of your life you may need to redefine. See if there’s anything that doesn’t align with your higher self. 

After that, pick those aspects that need to be redefined. Why do you want to change this? How has this been impacting you internally/externally? Does this aspect stem from your environment or yourself? See why this aspect needs to be improved. 

DESIGNING YOUR BRAND

This is more of a fun step! So, using your aspects design how you want that specific thing to look and feel like. Avoid being vague or non-specific. Try to put in as much detail as you can for each aspect. 

If you’d prefer, you don’t have to use ‘aspects’ and instead use your life generally. This is your redesign, so do whatever is more comfortable and achievable for you.

ASPECTS

Health

Social life

Career

Hobbies

Family

Finance

Spirituality

Personal development (mindset, goals, improvement)

Self care

Culture

Well-being

Things to include

Achievable goals

How your environment looks like

How your daily life like

How you see yourself

What do you feel after

Why this is alignment within yourself? 

You can do this any way you want. The one I would recommend for redesigning your life would be a vision board, preferably a physical one. If you don’t want to do that, there are still a lot of options such as writing it down into a pretty poster, creating a playlist that will reflect your brand, creating a pretty list, or having sticky notes around your room as reminders. 

Be creative and detailed with this. You should spend at least an hour if not more trying to redesign your life/aspects.

CREATING GOALS

Goals are so important, especially when we are moving in a different direction than we were before. As we’ve got the current status of who we are and what we want to be, creating goals should be easy. 

Make your goals visible. Put a sticky note on your mirrors, put it as your laptop background, put a reminder on your phone, listen to a playlist that motivates you of your goals or anything else that will constantly remind you of your goals. 

Other than that, remember that goals have to be achievable, mindful, and flexible.

ESTABLISHING HABITS

Habits are so important to rebrand yourself. Habits make up your identity. The way you act, speak, and do daily, can subconsciously influence you to be someone who isn’t in alignment with your higher self.

 As much as it’s important to establish new habits that align with you, you have to root out the habits that are pushing you off track from achieving your goals. 

The good thing is that you can do both at the same time. Replace those old habits, with brand new ones. For example, when you open your phone first thing in the morning instead of opening up TikTok, get YouTube opened and start a 5-minute meditation to start your day.

However, just because a habit is beneficial for you, it doesn’t mean it is in alignment for you. For many people, they prefer to read books as a productive alternative for leisure, however, you may not be able to read a book and focus. In that case, you may want to watch an educational video instead. You’re still getting the benefits, but just in a different way. 

STEP FIVE: IMPLEMENTING YOUR BRAND DAILY

Think about all the little details of how this person would act, from morning until night. Embody their actions, words, aura, and vibes. This is when having a visual of your goals is good, so you can see what you need to do.

This includes no longer indulging in things your higher self wouldn’t do. Regardless of how much comfort, entertainment, or dopamine something gives you, you have to let it go if it is destroying your mind. 

I way I recommend implementing your brand daily by creating a daily routine that focuses on a different goal each day of the week. E.g:

Monday - Practicing being mindful (meditation, journaling, connecting with your religion)

Tuesday - Fitness (pilates, weightlifting, hot girl walks)

Wednesday - Socialising (going out to meet new people/connecting with old friends)

Thursday - Productivity (Schoolwork, studying, business, workplace tasks)

Friday - Self-care (taking a slow day however you’d like)

ta-daa!! thanks 4 reading. now go follow @honeytonedhottie 💕😍

[bc-jpeg]

What do you think about Mumbo's art cam in the newer episodes?

I am personally still shocked like, HE CAN DO ART NOW? This man won't stop suprising me, I love it so much, also I don't see many people talking about that and I have no idea why because for me it's the best thing ever.

Anyways, hope you're doing good :D byee

the man does literally EVERYTHING.

when mumbo created @a.creative.junkyard for his art practice, only then I realized that he had literally been doing something like this for several years already. firstly for youtube, and after that he created many presentations of film projects to work with his clients, which already means a quite good basic skill in graphic design and especially the design eye.

still a big fan of his works from this account.

I love how he got creative with the start of season 10, using his skills to add some fun to the editing by creating new slides for his episodes. the way he’s sincerely passionate about creating such things, I empathically feel his joy.

mumbo started visualizing the whole stories through what he creates, and all the effort, work and fun is absolutely worth it. he may have had some small storytelling pieces before, but now it has definitely moved to another level.

the hand drawn concepts. if you look closely at the video, he strokes the colors manually. mumbo gets so immersed in the process when drawing these concepts, it feels therapeutic even. I always liked to see the concepts of the other hermit’s bases, that they drew by hand. since my main hobby is drawing, it always brings me closer to people on some other level when I see their drawings. as a big fan of mumbo, I’m so infinitely happy that he started to show this part of the process too. these concepts always add even more to the result, I don’t know how to explain it in words. just more. more sense of life from a story, from a building itself.

mumbo has knowledge and experience, but it's like he's been focusing on other aspects while building on the server before. in season 9, he started moving in a different direction more, and now it has achieved clear visible progress, he’s more actively experimenting and isn’t afraid to take on something that he has never done. now mumbo is even more confidently saying that he’s proud of himself.

this may seem insignificant to an outsider viewer, but

for a man who has been building redstone stuff and solid giant symmetry for several years in a row, it’s mind blowing.