#sometimes I make stupid scenarios up

[thlayli-ra]

Punk fancied himself the Phantom as he walked the darkened back rooms… unaware that he was in fact the haunted primma donna!

[polaroidcats]

hello dear cat! tumblr user @spindrifters would like to know all about mcbridge, particularly in the scenario where dolores is mcg's student, and she has a horrible self-hating crush on her hot cat teacher, and all of their interactions as adults are underpinned by her sexual frustration/internalised homophobia, pls and thank you <3

hello dear lynx and dear tumblr user @spindrifters!! what a delicious scenario, as your resident cat(lady) expert i am more than happy to deliver!!!

I mean who can blame young, confused, deeply closeted and homophobic/self loathing Dolores for having a crush on her sexy catlike teacher? We'd all let McGoogles step on us, lbr who said that

ANYWAYS so Dolores LOVES transfiguration class, she tries so hard to impress McGoogles but also really doesn't care what grade she gets in transfiguration or what feedback she gets from McGoogles (the fact that she once said "Very well done, Miss Umbridge, I'm impressed" lives rent free in her head and she has definitely never ever fantasised about hearing those words in a very different kind of scenario from her as well ...).

But those fantasies are a very rare occurance, at least while she's awake, most of the time she won't let herself get that far and blocks off any thoughts in that direction, she's very normal after all, thank you very much, she's a girly girl who loves pink and cute cats (a total coincidence of course!) and dates a respectable boy for a respectable amount of time before dumping him when he gets too handsy because she's a good girl and that's of course the only reason why she won't go further than the occasional kiss with any boy. And if she and her dormmates one night practise kissing "for boys" and she closes her eyes and accidentally thinks of a certain professor well that's just because she's stressed out about her transfiguration essay that's due in.. over 2 weeks. Listen, she likes being prepared, okay? She also makes sure to tell everyone afterwards that the dormmate she practisted kissing with came onto her and is a secret lesbian, to make sure no one suspects her of being one. A foolproof plan, of course. And if she loses a friend through that, well she doesn't really care. She has to focus on her academics anyways because she has big plans for her future that involve exceling in academics and being very normal and heterosexual.

And if one night she dreams about cuddling up with a certain professor in front of the fire in her office, surrounded by cats, drinking scottish breakfast tea and eating shortbread and feeling so very safe in her strong lean arms well that's just because... no she actually has no explanation for this and that dream haunts her way more than any of her frequent (completely involontary!!) wet dreams about her teacher haunt her. The sex dreams can easily be rationalised away but the way she woke up feeling safe and loved and then realised it was all a dream, and such a horribly unrealistic, unattainable dream too, will haunt her for years... She blames her mother for this, naturally. It must be that she's just lacking a mother figure while at hogwarts, that's the most reasonable explanation for all of this... (she almost manages to convince herself to believe this. almost. listen, she can be really convincing if she wants to, and if she sets her mind to something she will achieve it, so if she says her dreams don't mean anything then they really don't. they don't!)

The dream haunts her for so long in fact, that when she finds herself in that very same office years later, she really doesn't know what to do with herself. Of course she has mastered the art of covering up any insecurities with fake confidence, but something about McGonnagall's eyes in those glasses makes her feel like she's a sixteen year old schoolgirl again, and she's trying so hard not to want to impress her former teacher. She really doesn't mean for it to always be so awkward when she talks to McGoogles now but she can feel the fake niceness and hostility radiating off the other woman and if she weren't so set in her career path it would make her wobble and rethink all her life choices, because all she really wants in life is this wonderful woman's approval. But she came to hogwarts on a mission, and not even Minerva McGonnagall is able to keep her from accomplishing what she set out to do. But if she accepts the frequent invites for tea at her office that are clearly just a barely disguised way for McGoogles to keep tabs on her and spy on her a little, well she's only human and none of it has to mean anything. Anytime she leaves that office she's battling an inner battle of hating everything McGoogles stands for on a political level but also feeling that yearning and remembering those dreams she used to have as a schoolgirl.

[heartshattering]

5 AM

Just me and my overactive mind facing the nighttime again 🙃

[hiding-under-the-willow]

You ever write some shit where you're like 'oh yeah I'm totally just describing what this guy is doing in his free time nothing else im just setting the scene it's unnecessarily detailed for no particular reason' and then realize you are in fact just info dumping about some shit you are interested in actually

[causenessus]

when people send in anons do u have like ideas on who it is LOL like do u kinda go “i think this is _____”

YK THIS IS SO FUNNY BECAUSE NO I REALLY DON'T 😭😭 i totally get it because whenever i sent anon messages to people i thought that's what they did but honestly i can't keep track of that stuff. in my opinion you guys are anon for a reason and i know how it feels to be anon so i just don't think about it at all!! i think this is funny though because i was thinking in the fourth dimension of how you guys might be thinking that i was trying to guess who you guys were (i hope i explained that right. if u couldn't tell i am plagued by crippling anxiety LMAO) but i'm glad u asked!! so that i can calm the voices and tell you guys i have no idea who is who and i cannot even try to guess who is who 😊♥

[posthumus]

so true me. second son = daughter in the sense that both are deprived of autonomy in the interest of the crown despite the fact that neither directly benefit from the authority vested in that institution. also what do we think about the fact that in holinshed's chronicles the rebellion against rome is actually ended by arviragus and he marries a roman princess.

[whateveriwant]

Actually I'm not done talking about Mr. Simon Fucks-Himself-Stupid Riley just yet :(

I'm picturing a scenario where you, a civilian, are visiting your boyfriend at his base. Maybe you're there to deliver something, like a file he forgot at home or the lunch he said he didn't need. Either way, whatever your cover story for being there is, the end result is the same: you, on your back, knees up by your ears, sprawled across Simon's desk as he fucks you like his life depends on it.

Being a Lieutenant grants him the luxury of having a private office where he can engage in such extracurriculars, but that doesn't mean it's without some major risks – namely, prying ears that might be lurking in the hallway outside.

But being discreet shouldn't be an issue, should it? I mean, a man known infamously as “Ghost” should have no problem staying quiet, right?

Wrong.

Turns out, not only does that tight hole of yours reduce your boyfriend to a dumb, drooling mess, it makes him a dumb, drooling mess who can't keep his fucking mouth shut.

So while you have the wherewithal to clamp a hand over your lips to try muffling your lewd noises, Simon is out here moaning and groaning unabashedly like something sent forward in time from the Paleolithic. You could try asking him to cover his mouth, but it seems an impossible task; his hands are a little preoccupied with making sure he doesn't fuck you right over the edge of his desk.

While you don't want to stop, you also don't want to get caught, so you settle for urging him to keep it down. It's after a third softly gasped ‘N-Need to be qu-quiet, Si’ that your warning finally worms its way into his brain, and he acts in a way to appease you, just… not how you expect.

Swiftly, Simon removes his hold of your waist and brings one of his arms forward. He grabs for the center of his t-shirt, tugs the material up, and quickly stuffs the fabric into his mouth.

It only takes a split second for the action to happen, but immediately, you see how effective it is. The moment that standard, army-issued tee is captured between Simon's teeth, there's a drastic reduction of noise in the room.

Now, he can fuck into you with reckless abandon, and he snaps his hips forward with enough force to make your whole body ripple. Even as you pulse and constrict around him (sometimes inadvertently, sometimes not), the sounds that climb their way up Simon's throat are heavily dampened by his cotton gag.

It's as Simon begins the ascent to his peak that the cloth in his mouth really comes into play. As he pumps into you, he starts grunting lowly, gutturally, exhaling through his nostrils in quick, harsh bursts. It's a deep sound, animalistic in nature, like a bull huffing before it digs its heels into the dirt and charges.

His thrusts turn sloppier and sloppier the closer he nears his high, his hips propelled forward only by some basic hindbrain instinct. His lashes start to flutter, his eyes roll towards the back of their sockets, and when he cums, he throws his head back in a full-blown snarl.

Simon's a bit shaky on his feet after he climaxes in you, but he manages to pull out before he stumbles backwards, plopping down heavily into his chair. As you start cleaning yourself up, you see how he makes no attempt to move. He just sits there, completely brainless, pants around his ankles and t-shirt still tucked between his teeth. You have to walk over to him and purposefully tug on the shirt to get him to release it, and once it's freed, you see the damage that's been done.

In the center of Simon's shirt rests a big, blotchy wet spot, like he's tried to do his own slobbery take on the classic Rorschach test. The fabric's been wrinkled to all hell and there's a few imprints left behind from where his teeth had bitten down, and if you were to inspect the hem closely, you'd see where he popped a stitch or two in his ecstasy.

The sight of his mangled shirt has you tutting in disapproval. He can't walk out of his office looking like this, and he certainly can't forgo wearing a shirt altogether. What would the people around base say if they saw their normally put together Lieutenant looking so unkempt? You don't think he'd ever hear the end of it, nor would you for that matter.

In the meantime, as you wait for Simon's brains to un-liquify themselves, maybe you can scrounge up something else for him to wear. There's got to be something lying around here to help make him presentable once again. It's too bad as part of your cover you didn't think to bring an extra set of clothes to change into.

You'll have to remember for next time.

[kazusys]

— hugging scenarios.

genshin men in different scenarios revolving around hugging. (❕) a/n: will maybe do a pt. 2. suggest (male) characters! :]

characters included: kazuha, xiao, scaramouche/wanderer, tighnari, cyno, kaeya, and diluc.

kazuha nuzzles his head in your neck as you run your fingers through his un-ponytailed hair, your back facing him as you focus mainly on what you’re reading.

he’s gripping you tightly, thinking up reasons of how he’d be able to explain throwing your book with your notes inside across the room solely to steal your attention away from working so much. he means the best— really!

as much as it is tempting, kazuha wouldn’t dare make you upset at him for ruining your papers. instead, he’ll patiently wait and continue softly humming and kissing your neck until you finish. he’d wait for as long as you wish, if it only meant you’d eventually hold him in your arms at the end.

he hears you sigh a few minutes later. “ah… i think that should be it.”

he watches in anticipation as you put your research on the nightstand and turn to face him, a soft smile on your face as you apologize. “sorry, love.”

kazuha simply shakes his head as he brings you in closer, kissing your lips in earnest.

“xiao?” you call out, a little bit of a stutter coming out at the end. it was absolutely freezing out here. it was a good thing you brought a jacket, but even then.

you felt a breeze behind you as you turned to face the beloved adepti materializing out of nowhere.

the smile you wore quickly changed as you panicked seeing what he was wearing. reaching for your coat buttons, you cut off whatever he was about to say with, “are you crazy?! you’ll die of hypothermia wearing that in this weather! oh my gosh, xiao—”

“it’s really—” he tries to make a sentence again, only to be shut off by you wrapping your piece of clothing around his shoulders, directing his arms to go through the sleeves.

although he was used to this sort of cold weather, he appreciated the thought. but the odd warm fuzzy feelings that usually overtook his chest whenever you did something kind for him didn’t fully spread this time around, seeing that your sleeveless top and thin enough pants barely sheltered you at all from the snow starting to come down.

it was his turn to reprimand you as he sighed, “you’re calling me crazy, and yet you’re the one wearing a sleeveless shirt in the middle of one of our coldest periods. what were you thinking?”

despite him looking annoyed, he came towards you and swiftly picked you up bridal style, earning a small yelp as you were swept off your feet (literally) and teleported over to wangshu inn.

you quickly got over the initial shock, a smile returning to your lips. “y’know, that’s technically qualified as kidnapping.”

“shut up.” he responded, although with no malicious hint in his voice. he made sure to kiss you afterwards though, just for some extra warming up.

scaramouche hates you, he swears. he hates you (affectionately), he hates you (lovingly), he hates you (with absolutely no hate behind his words).

but, let’s be honest, he really doesn’t.

he loves you so badly it hurts. it hurts to think that one day, you might leave him like everyone else has. even after everything, even after he got rid of his name scaramouche, sometimes those seeds of doubt still manage to plague him, even though you’ve been with him through it all. damn his stupid past.

but, oh. the way those seeds get crushed under the weight of his non-existent heart expanding as you hug him tightly, your arms squeezing him unlike a thing but a human.

he holds back his tears as he lets himself be held by you, his own arms holding you just as tight as he leaves a kiss, albeit shaky, on your jaw.

when you rub his back comfortingly, he lets the smallest tear run down his porcelain face before burying his head into your collarbone, letting the rest fall as he recites his feelings; true and sincere.

vulnerable is a word you’d describe him as in this moment. though he’ll never admit that this scene happened afterwards, you know that he knows that whenever he’s in need of some love and affection, you’ll be there for him.

he loves you so, so much; mean words be damned.

tighnari, always so caring and hardworking. but it wouldn’t kill him to take a break once in a while, no?

“i swear, i will go into the forest and get one of those mushrooms that you’ve been so cautious around and shove it down your throat if you don’t stop working right now,” you threaten, even if from your ears it sounds empty.

he sighs in return, knowing that you wouldn’t go to sleep until he joined you. especially since he’s been skipping out these past few days. he got up a bit too quickly, wincing at the way his head spun when doing so. “fine, fine. archons, my head hurts…”

“that’s what happens,” you shrug, taking his hands and walking to the bed. he sits with you, blinking the heaviness of his eyes away as you suddenly hug him.

tighnari exhales at the feeling, he should really thank you for saving him from his continuous workloads…

you scratch behind his ears, watching his tail twitch before swishing lowly back and forth. he embraces you back, his eyes coming to a pleasant close. he really needs the sleep.

before he does get the rest; though, he mutters to you a quiet, “thank you, love you s‘much.”

and finally, he drifts off, you in his arms. what more could he ask for?

what a stoic guy that cyno is. and with the absolute worst jokes leaving his mouth, it’s a wonder that the two personalities living in his body are residing in the same person.

he’s telling you jokes as you’re cuddling with him, you mindlessly running your hands through his hair and commenting on his words as he tells them and explains if you don’t get it.

oh, and you’re doing a try not to laugh challenge. did i mention that cyno’s jokes are like, collectively the worst?

he has one goal in mind: tell a good enough joke to hear you laugh and claim victory.

he likes hearing you genuinely laugh. he likes the sound. he likes the swell of pride whenever you laugh because of him.

so as he dishes out one of his newer bests and awaits your judgement, he’s happily surprised hearing a small noise from you before turning into a full chuckle.

he doesn’t think he’s ever had the urge to hug you as tightly as he has now (okay okay, this is a lie. it’s on par with when he confessed and you agreed and the other times you’ve laughed at his jokes).

“cyno— you’re gonna break my ribs!…”

“this is my reward.”

“kaeya… go get some rest. you’re too drunk to be up right now.”

“i don’t wanna. i want to stay with you,” he says, emphasizing it by hugging you tighter. he’s behind you, his form practically towering over yours as you try to keep your composure.

he must’ve really drunk a lot tonight.

you sigh. “i'll be there soon, okay? i just have to finish—”

“you can do whatever—” he hiccups, “—it is tomorrow.”

you sigh again. first you had to pick him up from the tavern, already interrupting what you had planned tonight. now this.

however, you know it’s not really a complaint.

you’re glad he’s honest when drunk. you just can’t stop that warm feeling in your chest knowing that he genuinely wants you to himself.

well, might as well give him what he wants.

diluc can feel your hands around him as he’s busy scrubbing glasses, already having refused you four times in wanting to help him. not because he thinks you’re incapable of not breaking anything— just the opposite, actually— but he doesn’t want you to work because of him.

especially with all the work you’ve already had today. on second thought, you may break a glass from dozing off for a moment from the lack of sleep you’ve been getting. he thinks it’s better for you to rest as he’s doing his job.

he’s not moving much, thankfully. the tavern’s already closed, and it’s just you and him in there. he’s thinking about all the different ways he could carry you home in your half asleep state.

last cup done. finally, he can close up and go home with you and sleep soundly with you in his arms… yeah, that sounds good.

he turns slowly to face you, making your head raise to meet his eyes. you smile, albeit tiredly— but not failing to bring one of his own to diluc’s face nonetheless.

he kisses your lips softly. “let’s go home now.”

©️kazusys — 1/9/24; do not plagiarize/steal, repost, translate, and/or claim any of my works as your own.

[potteraep]

I don’t know if this has been asked before but!! Kinich x reader (any gender) trying to have a peaceful romantic moment and Ajaw just goes in between them every time (to annoy Kinich maybe,,)

THROW IT AWAY ⁀➷ KINICH

⁀➷-this is SOO.. I love ajaw he’s lowk real. more then one scenario cuz I lowk felt generous…

⁀➷- kinich x gn!reader

⁀➷- ajaw being a bother, lowk suggestive in some parts, a DROP of angst like only a bit of dialogue

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷- having moments of silence together was rare.

for many reasons of course. The pilgrimage being in place, kinichs duties and yours. They all had their own part in the seemingly impossible possibility of you and kinich having such little time together. It made sense right? They all added up but they were small inconveniences.

compared to the stupid dragon.

He was terrible. Sticking his nose where it shouldn’t be, you and kinich looking at Each other for a bit to long? He’s quick to stand in between and shake his tail in kinichs face with a obnoxious laugh

it was worse even when he shouldn’t of been there when ajaw was supposed to be locked away for you and kinich to have privacy he would float in mid-

look the point is that he was a nuisance.

at least to kinich, he’d roll his eyes while you held ajaw in your arms with fake tears defending “ the poor creature” saying his servant should respect him as ajaw dramatically fake sobbed in your arms while you tried to stifle a laugh at kinichs angry frown

still even you had to admit sometimes the little dragon should learn to walk away or float? He’d ruined moments even making you sigh and rub your head at his antics.

—Natlan being the nation of dragons seemed scary to most out side of its borders finding the title odd and making most wary. In reality most of those “ dragons” were creatures who had an infatuation with the people of the nation.

this wasn’t all the nation had of course, a strong archon and a sovereign of legend, alas it was quite safe for experienced travelers to just.. linger around as you had done before when you weren’t busy it was nice. The suarians were nice company but you’d wager that kinich was better.

You strolled side by side kinich looking towards the mountains as you sighed having the wind brush past you. Kinich was silent looking around a bit before looking at you his pupils looking over your features and resting on your lips as I turned to him

“ what are you looking at?” You asked with a confused look “ I’m looking at you..” he replied quietly his gaze from your jaw to lips and your eyes his lips curling up slightly as he watched your cheeks tint pink and look so fond of him he continued looking at you his eyes searching yours, looking for something anything to tell him to back up. To walk away and do something else or a rejection. He found nothing but love in your eyes making him breathe thru his nose quitely

he closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against yours as he sighed out a bit not saying anything as he held your waist, the soft fabric of his bandana brushing against your forehead as you smiled leaning your lips in a bit agape as he waited patiently

Of course that kiss never came, instead a loud laugh did making kinich sigh as he opened his eyes and leaned back still holding your waist

“Really.? “ Kinich said grumbling slightly as he averted his gaze to the little dragon

“ your a sap kinich! Ha I never thought I’d live to see the day wait till I-“ ajaw got his sentence cut off as kinich flicked him away with his hand before turning back to you

“ sorry.. where were we?” He breathed out as you rolled your eyes and smiled making him grimace a bit at the dragons stupid antics

—Kinich had finished his work which consisted of many things and you had finished your duties centered around the tribes issues and requests

this was rare both of you being done at the same time, sure kinichs work was rough and it definitely took time but you? You worked more then 75% of the day if he wasn’t worried about your lack of sleep he’d be a idiot, even if he tried to hide his worry with little gestures it didn’t work.

-Kinich dragged himself thru the door of your shared home sighing and rubbing his head, his Bandana shifting at the slight touch. He didn’t really expect you to be home, and when you were you confined yourself to work saying it would be done soon( it never was). When he checked on you again, your eyes were drooping and your shaky hand signed papers as he sighed closing the door behind him

“ when will you rest?the canopy will be fine without you..for a night” he said dully trying to hide the worry in his eyes tho, thru the reflect of the window in front of your desk gave away his eyes softening and trailing over your tired features

“ when my works over” you replied mindlessly reading over papers and writing reports and quick signatures as he let out a sigh stepping closer to you right behind your chair as he gripped your shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze of recognition

“ those piles are endless my love, don’t keep this us.. please” he said furrowing his brows a bit as you sighed reaching one hand to graze his finger tips

“ kinich.. I can’t not now..” you said trying to fake a smile which he gritted his teeth at before sighing

”hm.. well then, don’t let me be a bother..” he said with a turned gaze to the reflection as he leaned down and gently kissed your neck moving a piece of your hair with two fingers as you tilted your head into your hand, he brought his hand on your shoulder to securely hold your waist. He never once broke eye contact thru the reflection one hand on your waist and the other trialing your hips

He brought his mouth to the back of your neck sweetly kissing you making a soft heart with his fingers in your hips smirking a bit as he saw you smile thru the glass

he opened his mouth to speak, maybe to say how much he loved or desired you but his voice wasn’t what boomed thru the air

“ kinichh! Where have you gone! Don’t you dare lie or i swear-“ he stopped his words as kinich glared at him thru the reflection as he busted thru the door. Ajaw sighed dramatically seeing you seated and kinich leaning behind you

“ what now! Why are you sooo mad your incelent bafoon!” He screatched as he turned bright red flaking his arms around while you rubbed your forehead to tired to hear all this, kinich looked at you with a sigh as he kissed your head before turning and walking to ajaw glaring at him as ajaw rolled his eyes before yelping as kinich gripped his tail dragging the creature with him

“ what are you-!”

“ shut the hell up “

You smiled to yourself as you heard the door shut and ajaw protest as kinich sighed knowing this would lead to more bickering from the orange dragon.

@- likes and reblogs appreciated hope you enjoyed ! :>

[sailorrhansol]

Amnesia | c.sc (m)

❀ Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x f. reader

❀ Summary: Choi Seungcheol has never been the type to commit to relationships - casual is more his thing. You’re fine with that - except you and Seungcheol seem to be terrible at casual when it comes to one another. 

❀ Word Count: 11,920

❀ Genre: Friends with benefits to lovers 

❀ Type: Smut, Angst if you squint 

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Recreational drinking, mild jealousy from both reader and Cheol, themes of self doubt/relationship doubt, light depictions of anxiety regarding ambiguous relationships, explicit language, Cheol and reader are both idiots, explicit sexual content including oral (f. and m. receiving), vaginal fingering, nipple stim, breath play if you squint, unprotected vaginal sex, a lot of bodily fluids like spit and cum, multiple smut scenes, hair pulling, light spanking, sub-space adjacent feelings, being a lil silly goofy during sex sometimes, stupid ass nicknames at the end because I’m a millennial and I’m cringe sometimes. 

❀ A/N: This was absolutely not what I originally imagined when I wrote this fic - it was supposed to be angsty and frustrating and a lot of back and forth and instead I wrote two fucking idiots who obviously like one another just being down bad. I don’t know how or why I got here, but here we are. Also - Jeongcheol coming out with billiards content after I posted the teaser for this is fucking sENDING me, thank you for making Pool Shark Seungcheol canon. 

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀ Playlist

DAY ONE

You’re a goner as soon as you lay eyes on him. You know it before Jeonghan properly introduces you, shouting over the rock music that is blaring in the dive bar you like to hang out at on Friday nights. The neon from the sign creates a blue silhouette around Seungcheol as he smiles and holds a hand out to you. You can barely pull yourself together to shake his hand - warm, firm - too busy staring at his face. 

Choi Seungcheol is what your best friend Vin likes to call pretty motherfuckin handsome. He’s got dark, warm eyes that light up playfully when they meet yours, full lips the color of crushed rose petals, a square, firm jawline and silky dark hair that falls in his eyes when he tilts his face down to hide a smile at something Jeonghan says. 

Crushed against the wall of the booth, you feel the cold glass of your beer warm against your palms as you steal glances at Seungcheol. He’s directly across from you, angling his broad shoulders to fit snug into the corner of the booth, lounging backward as he observes the argument brewing between Joshua and Jeonghan. 

He even dresses well. Fitted t-shirt paired with light wash jeans and boots, a fancy watch reflecting the burning neon on the wall next to him, delicate chain necklaces tucked into the collar of his shirt. 

It’s the way he wears them that speaks to you, though. 

“Do they do this often?” his deep voice drags you from your reverie. You blink, gathering yourself when you realize he’s leaning forward a little, addressing you. He sips his beer before tilting the tip of the bottle toward Jeonghan and Joshua. “It’s like they're married.”

“You have no idea. Wait until game night.” 

“Oh yeah. Jeonghan told me about game night.” Seungcheol’s mouth twitches in a smile. “You’ll be there?” 

“Every Sunday. Do you like games?” 

Something about the glint in his eye makes your stomach flip. You sip your beer just to give you something to do, feeling more drunk off the easy confidence he exudes as he shrugs. “Depends on the game. I’m competitive.” 

“So am I.”

He grins. “I look forward to it, then.” 

Warming up to Seungcheol is easy. He’s the new hire at Jeonghan and Wonwoo’s office, and they both felt confident enough to bring him into the fold. You can see why - he’s kind and funny, and there’s a charm to him that draws the people around him like moths to a flame. Even with just the four of you sitting in the booth, you feel the magnetism. 

Friday nights at Rusty’s has been a tradition with Jeonghan and Joshua since you had been in college, filling yourself on five dollar wings, three dollar beers and occasionally lukewarm mozzarella sticks. Normally Vin, Wonwoo and Mingyu would be around, but tonight it’s just the smaller group. 

Jeonghan and Joshua slide out of the booth to play darts, shoving one another back and forth, the drink in their step making them a little off balance. You smile fondly as you pluck another beer out of the bucket of ice, struggling to pop the top, your wet hands sliding against the metal cap. 

Wordlessly, Seungcheol holds his hand out. Flushing from the neck down, you hand it over to him with a silent thank you. He pops the top easily, bicep flexing for a moment before he passes it back over, shooting you an award winning grin. 

“Wow, so strong.”

He pouts and you swear you see stars. “Hey, I am strong.” 

“No, no, you are. Thank you.” 

“You shouldn’t tease me. I’m new.” 

“Huh.” You sip your beer, letting the cool liquid slide down your throat. It does nothing to soothe the heat spreading over your skin under the sole attention of Seungcheol. “I don’t remember that being a rule.” 

“I never was one to play by the rules anyway.” 

“Oh, so you’re saying you cheat at games like Jeonghan does.” 

“I like winning.”

You roll your eyes. From the edge of your vision, you see people leave the pool table. Eager to stand up and stretch your legs, you start to slide out of the booth, the wood grain scratching against your jeans as you do. 

“Come on then, cheater. Let’s play pool.” 

“I’m down.” 

Seungcheol follows you. Your fingers grip the glass of your drink tight, knuckles straining. You move around tables and duck around other patrons, hyper aware of the way Seungcheol keeps close to you, the heat of him against your back. 

Next to the rows of dart boards are two pool tables, the felt a faded green with beer stains and other mysterious smudges on the surface. You grab a cue from the rack on the wall, spin it in your hands, and hand it over to Seungcheol. He eyes it, running his fingers along the splintered and dented wood.

Grabbing your cue in one hand and the triangle rack and set it on the table while he collects the balls from the table and the pockets, rolling them over to you. A few feet away, Joshua is already accusing Jeonghan of cheating. You don’t know how you cheat in darts, but you do know if there is a will, Jeonghan will find a way.

“Dangerous to let them have sharp objects,” Seungcheol notes, sliding the last ball over to you. You huff out a laugh, rolling the rack of billiard balls back and forth to set them. “You’re not going to get violent with me, right?”

“I don’t know, are you going to cheat?”

His smile is wicked. “Me? Definitely not.” 

“Hmm. Not convincing.”

Seungcheol presses the flat of his palm over his chest, drawing your eyes to how thick he is in the chest area. You swallow thickly as he says, “Cross my heart.” 

“Whatever you say. What are we playing for?” 

“What will you give me?” 

You look up at the shift in his tone. Dark. Flirty. He leans against the pool table, resting his hip casually as he crosses his arms over his chest. You ignore the way his arms flex, totally focused on the way his eyes are only for you. Intent. Meaningful. 

A warning goes off in your head. You already feel the pull to him, the innate attraction that has your heart hammering. You should brush off the flirtation, move on to other things. Relationships aren’t really your thing, but there’s something about him that makes you know you’ll want more. 

You already do want more. 

“What do you want?” you ask softly, ignoring your better judgment. 

When Seungcheol smiles, you know you’d give him anything. Everything.

“I can think of something, I think.”

-

DAY SEVEN

“I like this,” Seungcheol says, voice rough from use. He buttons his jeans, looking over at you. You’re still half-alive on your bed, a sheen of sweat covering your body. The sheets stick to you when you roll to look at him. “Are you good with casual?”

You’re only half listening, too distracted by his flexing abs. “Hmm?”

Seungcheol looks good tonight. He looks good every night, but tonight he’s in dark jeans and a white sweater. The sweater looks soft like his hair, which has grown longer and hangs in his eyes as he looks down to slip on his shoes. 

“I’m not really looking for a relationship at the moment but this,” he answers, flicking his fingers between the two of you. “It’s good.” 

“Agreed. I’m good with casual. I’m a little too busy for anything more.” 

It’s not a lie. You are too busy to really commit to someone. Again, a warning goes off in your mind like that first night you met him, screaming danger. You ignore it, not ready to give up Seungcheol just yet. 

He grins, pulling his short back over his head. “Cool. If you ever don’t want to or whatever though, let me know, yeah?”

“You too.” 

-

DAY TEN 

Seungcheol [2:06 AM]: Come home with me You [2:06 AM]: Everyone would notice Seungcheol [2:07 AM]: Tell them where you’re going who caaaares Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: Unless you don’t want to tell them then that’s ok Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: I personally don’t care if they know I’m rearranging your guts most nights :)  You [2:10 AM]: CHEOL You [2:10 AM]: Fine pls hold my hand while I do this. They’re going to roast me Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: Holding your hand sooo tight Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: But from like over here tho  You [2:19 AM]: That was so embarrassing. Where did you go Seungcheol [2:19 AM]: She’s so brave, she’s well behaved Seungcheol [2:19 AM]: Standing outside hurry it's cold as dick out here

Seungcheol [4:38 AM]: Don’t forget to text me when you make it home  You [4:52 AM]: Home safe!  

-

DAY TWENTY THREE

You [11:10 PM]: Wyd Seungcheol [11:34 PM]: Need it that bad? You [11:39 PM]: Wow goodnight!!!!! Seungcheol [11:39 PM]: Nah come back Seungcheol [11:43 PM]: COME BACK Seungcheol [11:43 PM]: Omw. Unlock the door You [11:45 PM]: Need it that bad?  Seungcheol [11:45 PM]: Yes actually :) 

-

DAY THIRTY

You slide your finger across the phone, curious as you pick up Seungcheol’s phone call. “Hello?”

“Are you hungry?” 

You look at your watch. It’s almost one in the afternoon, your stomach growling as it realizes that yeah you are kind of hungry. “Actually yeah. Why?” 

“I had to run errands and I’m by your place and starving. Wanna get lunch?” 

Your lips twitch in a smile. Leaning against the counter, you press the phone against you a little closer. “Sure, what did you have in mind?” 

“Do you like Greek?” You hum in assent, chewing on your fingernail nervously. You can hear him get into his car, pausing momentarily as he starts it and curses at how hot it is. You can’t help but laugh. “Alright, pick you up in ten?”

“Alright.” 

-

DAY FORTY THREE

He’s not yours. You tell yourself that over and over again as you try not to look across the bar where Seungcheol is sitting for the nth time. You’d noticed him immediately when you and Vin walked in, clocking his wide frame and familiar laugh with a precision that makes you curse yourself.

Now, Seungcheol is leaning against a high top, talking to a pretty girl sitting on a stool next to him. He’d waved at you earlier and shot you a smile and a wink, but he’s with friends you’re unfamiliar with tonight, and hasn’t come over.

Not that you expect him to. He isn’t yours and the casual thing you’ve got going means he can do whatever he wants, no strings attached.

So why is your heart in your throat as you glance over to see the girl laughing at something he’s said? They’re not alone but somehow that isn’t comforting at all. You pick at the varnish on the table to distract yourself, suddenly interested in the splinters and not the man across the bar from you.

Finishing the rest of your beer, you pull out another, hoping that the hoppy taste erases the icky feeling that settles on your skin. You’re not participating in conversation much, but if your friends notice, they have the decency not to call you out. 

At least Vin knows what’s up, checking on you every once in a while. Thankfully she doesn’t say anything, occasionally giving you a squeeze instead. She knows the deal, understanding the irrationality between wanting to control something that isn’t yours to control. 

Halfway through your beer, your phone vibrates. You flip it over and your heart starts pounding when you see Seungcheol’s name come across the screen, a message waiting to be read. With a shaky hand, you slide your thumb across the screen to unlock it, the message popping up.

Seungcheol [12:13 AM]: Wanna come back to mine? 

Surprised, you look up from your phone to where he’s still at the high top. His phone is in his hands and he’s looking right at you, flashing a grin when you meet his eyes. The girl is still sitting next to him, but his attention is entirely on you now, pinning you to the spot. 

Your phone vibrates again and you glance down, your phone’s brightness stark in the gloom of the bar. 

Seungcheol [12:13 AM]: You’re cute when you’re surprised You [12:14 AM]: What, the girl you were talking to said no? Seungcheol [12:14 AM]: I didn’t ask her. I asked you Seungcheol [12:14 AM]: Omg wait are you jealous?? You [12:14 AM]: No You [12:14 AM]: Definitely not  Seungcheol [12:17 AM]: Hateful to me is Hades for a liar or whatever You [12:17 AM]: Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another, loser Seungcheol [12:18 AM]: Same thing Seungcheol [12:18 AM]: But seriously, I have no interest in her. I’m asking YOU Seungcheol [12:18 AM]: Will beg from my knees in this bar Seungcheol [12:19 AM]: Even tho the floor is kind of gross You [12:20 AM]: I mean, if you’re offering to get on your knees… 

You’re not sure if you trust his answer about not being interested in the other girl, but it doesn’t matter. You still end up leaning against him in an Uber, his hand squeezing your thigh playfully as he leans his forehead on the window, eyes closed to enjoy the cool glass. 

He is so handsome, face glowing red as the car stops at a stoplight. You examine him closely, eyes dragging from the soft curve of his mouth to his impossibly silk lashes. You’d told him once that most girls would kill for those lashes, and now he likes to bat them at you every time he wants something. 

The car starts moving and you look away from him, taking in a deep breath. Seungcheol isn’t yours, but you’re starting to think you want him to be. 

DAY FIFTY TWO

“Is it weird if I bring a bag of shit to stay?” Seungcheol’s voice is shy over the receiver. You grip your phone tighter, biting your bottom lip to hide your smile as you roll onto your side in bed, snuggling into the pillow more. It smells like him, bergamot and cedarwood. “You can tell me if that’s weird.”

“Not weird at all,” you say carefully, too nervous to scare him off. “You usually end up sleeping here anyway.” 

Usually really means always. He’s been doing that more recently, crashing at your apartment after coming over and vice versa. You’ve gone from Uber rides home at dawn to waking up curled into his back. He’s the first person you’ve ever let loiter in your space as much as he has, but you try not to think about it too much, as though just the acknowledgement might spook him.

Whatever thing between you feels fragile, a rare, glass menagerie set that can shatter if handled wrong. Friends with benefits is what you call it, but you’re not quite sure if that’s what it is.

“Okay cool. Waking up at the ass crack of dawn to go back to my place and shower sucks.” 

“I do have a shower.”

“Oh I’m aware. It’s one of my favorite places in your apartment.” 

Your stomach flutters and you clench your thighs together. Looking at the clock on your nightstand, you realize it’s getting late. “Better hurry,” you murmur. “I might be too tired for a shower when you get here.” 

His chuckle is deep. Throaty. “I’ll speed, then.” 

After hanging up, you toss your phone to the end of your bed and stare at the ceiling. Outside, the city hums beyond the window of your apartment. The lights in your home are mostly turned off, a single lamp providing low light in the living room so Seungcheol can see when he comes in, and a flickering candle on your nightstand and in the bathroom. 

Your bed is warm and you do feel sleepy, but the excitement of seeing Seungcheol keeps you awake well enough. You try not to think of that too much, either. He was just there a few nights prior, and already he’s on his way back. Like it’s common. Routine. 

And it sort of is, you guess. You hangout with Seungcheol almost more than you see Vin and Jeonghan these days, and you’re almost always spending the night together. You know his favorite late night snacks, you know the type of coffee he likes to make in the morning before work, and you know about his family, his stresses at work. What makes him tick. 

It’s more than you ever thought you’d know about him when you agreed to keep your sex life with him casual and at a distance. He is anything but at a distance. 

Seungcheol must speed, because it feels like hardly any time has passed when you hear your apartment door open and shut, the sound of the deadbolt clicking. You lift yourself up to lean on your elbows, watching from your bed as he enters your line of vision, a backpack over one shoulder. 

He’s dressed in a long t-shirt and sweats, cozy and warm and still unbelievably good looking. He grins when he sees you, eyes creasing at the corners as he enters your room and drops his bag by your door. 

Without saying anything, Seungcheol crawls onto your bed, the mattress sinking under his weight as he inches up over you. Falling backward onto the mattress, you let him loom over you. Heat radiates from his body, warming you up. Your heart thuds as he ducks down, his hands bracketing your head as he cages you in. He brushes his nose against yours and you feel sparks, trying to regulate your breathing. 

“Hi,” he whispers. 

“Hi,” you whisper back, reaching your hands up to rest on his hips. He reacts, pressing his waist into yours a little, making you bear his weight. “Ugh, heavy.” 

“Too bad.” 

Seungcheol’s teeth nip your jaw, making your hips twitch upward. You can feel the smirk against your skin as he presses a wet kiss under your ear, moving his way to your neck. 

“I was promised a shower.”

“Maybe I’m too tired,” You murmur.

He hums, leaning more of his weight into you. It’s comforting, not crushing, and you can feel the way his heart is beating wildly in his chest, in tune with yours. You smell bergamot and cedarwood, making your thoughts dizzy and scattered while he whispers, “I’ll wash your hair.” 

“Hmmm. I’m listening.” 

He presses a wet kiss to your pulse point, tongue laving against your skin. Your fingers twist in his shirt, your muscles tensing as you fight off a shiver. You can hear his soft breath, the way the sheets shift under the two of you, the way your heart hammers.  

“I’ll massage your shoulders…” 

“Hmm.” 

His teeth scrape against your throat and you sigh, arching up into him, eyes closed. “I’ll eat you out.” 

Fuck. You’re putty in his hands. Seungcheol could get you to do anything he asked. You don’t know if he knows - you’re too afraid to show him, to let him in on the secret out of fear of what it would mean to him. If it was too much, too deep.

But like this, it’s hard not to hide it. Especially when his filthy mouth hits a weak point in you, turning you thoughtless as you nod your head in response, nails digging into his hip bones through the fabric of his shirt. He makes a noise in response, leaning up off of you reluctantly but pulling you with him. 

Dropping his hands, you head to the bathroom, feeling uneven. Seungcheol whines and grabs you to pull you back toward him. He wraps his arms around you, squeezing tightly. 

“You haven’t even given me a kiss,” he pouts, looking down at you through long, dark lashes. “I want a kiss.” 

This is the problem with Seungcheol. He says things like this when you’re supposed to be casual, something easy and without feelings and without strings. But this feels like something, it feels like there's a thread connecting you, tugging your mouth to his because of course you indulge him.

You always do. 

Seungcheol’s lips are soft and taste faintly of his cherry chapstick. You smile into the kiss, standing on your tiptoes to press closer to him. He kisses you back eagerly, slotting his lips against yours and humming with delight. When you pull away, he’s smug, grinning happily. 

“Come on,” he urges, now leading the charge as he pulls you by the hand toward your bathroom. 

Instead of turning on the light, Seungcheol uses the glow of the burning candle on the counter to navigate. He drops your hand to open up the cabinets and pulls out two towels as you trail to the shower, opening the glass door to lean in and turn it on. 

Steam starts to fill the room as you close the shower door and turn to him. He sets the towels on the counter, not bothering to shut the door to the bedroom. Instead, he grips the bottom of his shirt and peels it upward and over his head, revealing all toned muscle and tan skin. 

He momentarily distracts you. Seungcheol is a work of art, equal parts rippling muscle and soft skin. You slide your shorts down, distracted by the way he looks in the golden shroud of the candle light, sliding his sweatpants down his legs. 

Sensing your eyes, he lifts his head as he kicks off his sweats, briefs slung low on his hips. “Admiring me?” 

“Shut up.” 

Looking away, you take off your shirt, feeling the heat flush from your cheeks down to your neck. He chuckles, peeling off his briefs before kicking them toward the sink and striding toward the shower. He stops to kiss you on the cheek as he pulls open the door. 

“I don’t mind,” he teases. “I like it.” 

It’s true. Seungcheol has always had the easy confidence of someone who is comfortable in their skin. You admire that about him - and envy him a little. Seungcheol never seems to worry what others think of him, nor does he seem embarrassed or concerned about making the wrong move. Saying the wrong thing. 

Steam hits you full on as you step into the shower. Seungcheol is already standing under the spray of water, his back turned toward you. For a moment you admire him again, watching the way the water sluices down his broad back and narrow waist. 

Your eyes drift to the tattoo at his neck, the branches of the tree stretching toward his shoulders. You’ve traced that tree with the tips of your fingers and tongue over and over again, fascinated about the way the ink flexes when he moves. 

A chill catches you, making you shiver and step toward the heat of the water. He senses your approach, turning his head to the side to look at you over his shoulder. He grins, reaching a hand back toward you to pull you close. You lace your fingers, letting him pull you into him as he turns. 

Hot water hits your skin, immediately soothing. You sigh, leaning into the firmness of him, Seungcheol’s arms wrapping around you. He catches your mouth again, your eyes fluttering shut as he kisses you slowly, tongue lazy as he licks into your mouth. 

Seungcheol’s hands spread across your back, fingers digging in a little as he starts to explore, one hand surging up and the other down. You moan into his mouth as the hand that drifts down grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing a little. His mouth curves into the kiss and you feel his teeth pull at your bottom lip, something he knows you love.

As always, you’re a goner. You don’t stand a chance with him. Not that first night and not now when he kisses you like something more. Not when he slides his hand around to your front, pressed between your bodies to run his fingers up the wet folds of your pussy. 

He groans into the kiss that has turned sloppy, hungry. “Fucking wet.”

“We’re in the shower.” 

He growls and pulls his mouth from you to attach to your neck, biting and sucking harshly. You let out a breathy sound, head tilting back heavily as you feel his tongue lick the water from your skin. “Don’t take away my credit.” 

“The only crime is pride.”

The pads of his fingers press into your clit, making your knees knock together and the breath leave your lungs. He smiles against your neck, humming. “Which classic are you quoting at me today?” 

“Antigone by Sophocles.” 

“What’s that one about?” 

Finding words is nearly impossible. The heat of the shower has you flushed and distracted, the steam making it harder to breathe, thoughts sticky as Seungcheol continues to tease you, fingers dragging down to your clenching entrance to press his fingers in slightly before dragging them back up.

Your nails bite into the back of his neck, clinging to him for life as he holds you up, one arm looped around your back to press you to him while the other makes all your thoughts scattered. 

“Come on,” he urges gently, bringing his face to yours. He brushes his nose against yours, nudging. “Tell me.” 

“She was a tragic character in a play written by Sophocles,” you sigh. “She was the daughter of Oedipus.” 

“The guy who fucked his mom?”

Your laughter bubbles out of you. He laughs too, his hold tightening. “Yeah, Cheol. The guy who fucked his mom.”

“Craaazy family.” 

“Do you really want to talk about Greek tragedy incest right now?”

“Nope,” he says happily. “I do want to eat this pussy though.” 

Seungcheol flips gears so quickly that it’s hard to keep up. He swings you toward the glass wall of the shower, pressing your chest against it. You moan loudly, startled by the cool glass against your hard nipples. The contrast of hot water and the cool glass feels good, your eyes fluttering shut as Seungcheol drops to his knees behind you. He gently presses the inside of your knees, urging you to spread your legs. 

“Just like that,” he encourages, hands ghosting upward to squeeze your ass. He pulls your hips away from the glass and toward him, groaning as he comes face level to your cunt. “Fuck.”

Your breath fogs the glass. It’s cold when you press your palms against it, holding yourself up as Seungcheol dips forward, running the flat of his tongue down your slit. You let out a pathetic sound and he laughs, fingers squeezing your flesh. 

Everything feels like an exposed nerve. You melt, knees shaking and unsteady as Seungcheols tongue leisurely explores your folds, dipping into your entrance before dragging up to circle your clit. 

One of your hands leaves the glass to reach back, sinking into the wet strands of his hair and holding him to you. He grunts in pleasure, the buzz of his mouth adding to the simulation as he fastens his lips to you, sucking gently. 

Seungcheol’s mouth is a weapon. You fall apart under the warmth of his lips, the softness of his tongue. He sucks at your core, greedy and pleased, fingers digging into you as he presses in further. He can never get enough, the wet sounds of his hunger making your toes curl.

“Feels so good,” you pant against the glass. Your nails scrape against his scalp and he moans loudly, muffled by your cunt. “Your fucking mouth.” 

“Mmm. Love you like this.” His tongue flicks expertly across your clit and you feel your thighs clench, legs shaking as your orgasm spools inside of you. “God this shower hurts my fucking knees though.”

“You wanted to eat me out in the shower.”

A hand cracks across your ass cheek, making you arch against the glass. He chuckles, tongue diving back, words slurred as he mutters, “And I’d do it again.”

Seungcheol’s mouth feels divine. You go quiet as he sucks at you, focused on the warmth spreading through you and the way your breath starts to stutter, limbs locking up. 

When you come, you go boneless. Seungcheol holds you up, pressing you against the glass as he licks you through your orgasm. You twitch against him, nails dragging in his hair, your other hand sliding against the glass as you fight to grip anything to ground you.

Breathing raggedly, you sag when he pulls his face from you and stands. He groans and you grin, knowing his knees hurt from the tile of the shower. He doesn’t care, though. He crowds you in, cock pressed against your backside as his arms loop around you. 

“Kiss me.” His voice is soft, needy. 

Turning your face over your shoulder, you let him catch his mouth with yours, all tongue and cum and spit. You don’t care, pushing into him. One of his hands slides down between your legs, making you whimper into his mouth as he slides his fingers through your sticky folds to press two of them into your entrance. 

Seungcheol is a giver. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve slept together or had brief, fast encounters, he always makes it a point to please you. To go out of his way to make you shake against him, like he needs it. 

He keeps your mouth melded to his as his fingers fuck you slowly. You clench around his fingers, moaning his name as he presses them against the soft spot inside of you. You see stars, panting into his mouth as he strings you along, dragging you toward another orgasm. 

It’s slow. Intimate. His mouth is hot and wet, sucking at biting at your bottom lip. His other hand snakes up to your throat, not applying pressure but gripping you, holding you to him. If he didn’t have you so tightly pressed to the glass, you think you’d collapse.

“You won’t fall,” he breathes into your mouth, reading your mind. “I’ve got you.”

“My knees are fucking useless right now.”

“You’re tough. Come on, I know you can give me more.” 

You’ll give him anything he asks. You feel your heart slamming in your chest as he works you up again, feel the ragged breathing until you momentarily stop, everything tense and suspended as you clench around his fingers, shuddering violently as you come. 

“Knew it,” he murmurs. “Good girl.”

A whine leaves you at the praise, head shaking back and forth a little as the oversensitivity makes you squirm. He works you through it, mouth pressed to your ear, whispering to breathe, baby as he strokes you gently until you’re leaning against him heavily. 

Seungcheol removes his hand but keeps holding you up, letting you catch your breath. He peppers innocent kisses along your shoulder, lips brushing your skin tenderly. When you stand up with more strength, he pats you on the hip, gentle.

“Good?”

“Mhmm.” Craning over your shoulder, you catch his chin with your mouth, kissing softly. You press your ass into him, feeling his straining cock. “Come on.” 

“Yeah?”

“All good.”

“Thank fuck. Thought I lost you.”

“I’ve had worse,” you grin, a little tired.

He kisses you, patting you approvingly before he grinds the tip of his cock between your legs. He groans deep in his chest, grip on you tightening for a moment. You reach behind you, gripping the base of his cock firmly, stroking gently before lining him up with your entrance. 

Seungcheol pushes in, both of you whining in harmony at the feeling. It feels good, your pussy throbbing around him as he presses in slowly, letting you feel the stretch. He clings to you, trying to keep it together as you flutter around him. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, more to himself than you. “Shit.” 

Gently, Seungcheol starts to fuck you against the glass, strokes deep and slow. It’s mind-numbingly good, your cheek cool and pressed against the shower wall, Seungcheol’s face buried in your neck, breath puffing against your skin. 

He holds you reverently, both hands on your hips to keep you where he wants you. You reach one hand behind your head, holding the back of his neck, nails digging into his skin. He hums happily, always pleased when you bite and scratch him.

That had been a surprise. You always thought he wouldn’t want you to mark him, that he wouldn’t want evidence of your time spent together. Seungcheol is the opposite though, urging you to rake your nails across soft skin, to bite at him and bruise him. 

Your feet slide apart a little as he strengthens his thrusts. You squeal, hand smacking the glass to hold yourself up. He lets out a loud laugh, pausing to let you fix your stance. He taps your thigh in question and you nod, lifting your leg a little to let him slide a hand under your thigh to press it against the shower wall for better grip.

When he rolls his hips into you this time, it’s deeper, making you tremble against the glass. A groan drips from Seungcheol’s mouth as he sets his pace, pinning you between him and the glass with nothing to do but to take what he gives you. 

“Can you do another?” he asks, breath shaky. His fingers squeeze your thigh for emphasis, the snap of his hips getting stronger. You nod, unable to answer verbally. He huffs, half laughter, half something else. “Yeah you can.” 

And you can. Seungcheol can pull pleasure out of you like thread from a loom, his skilled hands guiding you where he wants you to go. It’s easy for him, the way he knows your body so acute and familiar that the thought alone makes you unravel a little, your whines muted by the glass. 

He makes you come like that, stuck between his warmth and the cold, the two contrasts keeping you suspended as you seize up around him. He grunts at the feeling, hips sloppy, losing their rhythm until he clenches up, growling your name into your neck as he tips over the edge after you. 

For a few moments, you remain melded together, panting in time. Seungcheol makes no rush of peeling himself away from you. Instead, he’s content to mouth at your shoulder and neck, running his nose along your throat. You squirm and laugh, ticklish. 

Grinning, he does it again, nuzzling into you and making you laugh, sound echoing in the shower. “Seungcheol!”

“It’s cute.” 

“Come on,” you urge. “You said you’d wash my hair.” 

He steals a kiss. “Alright, alright. Pass me the shampoo.” 

-

DAY FIFTY SEVEN

“Who is that?” Seungcheol asks, jerking his head toward the bar. You turn and follow his gaze to see Seokmin standing at the bar, ordering drinks. “Never seen him before.”

“Jealous?” You tease, leaning forward and batting your eyelashes at him. Seokmin is just a coworker, but it doesn’t mean you can’t poke Seungcheol a little. Except Seungcheol doesn’t laugh, leveling you with a stare, lips turning downward. “Wait, you actually are.”

“Don’t push it. It was just a question.”

“We work together,” you clarify, immediately turning off the charm when you recognize he’s not amused. “Actually I think he sort of has a thing for Vin, which is why he’s here.” 

Seungcheol hums, sipping his beer and looking away from you. Licking your lips, you reach out a hand and touch his gently, bringing his dark eyes back to you. He looks serious - more serious than you’ve ever seen him, face blank, eyes unreadable. 

“I mean it.” You squeeze his hand, trying to comfort him. “We’re just friends.” 

“Alright.” 

“I feel like you’re mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad?” 

You shrug, struggling to articulate. He still has that expression you can’t read, something stark and closed off. “Just seems like it.” 

He shakes his head again, but you don’t think he’s telling the truth, watching the way his eyes shift to watch Seokmin approach. “Just tired, I think I might head out.” 

Panic grips you and you say the first thing you can think of, throwing caution to the wind. “Want to come over?” 

That gives him pause. He studies you. You feel a tightness in your throat under his scrutiny. His mouth twitches and he nods. “Alright,” he says softly. “If you want me to.”

“I do.” You squeeze his hand again. “Really.”

-

DAY SEVENTY EIGHT

“Want to do me a huge favor?” 

You look up from your spot on your couch. Seungcheol is in your kitchen, using his hip to close the door to the fridge. He lifts the lid on the package of grapes, plastic cracking loudly as he does. Leaning against the counter, he pops one into his mouth, crunching happily. 

“Besides giving you my grapes?” you ask, deadpan. He grins around them shrugging happily as he eats another. You roll your eyes, turning back to the laptop carefully balanced on your knee. “What’s the favor?” 

“We have this giant New Years Eve party at work in two weeks and I need a date.”

That gives you pause. You stare at the computer screen but you can’t make out anything on the screen. You don’t dare to turn and look at Seungcheol, fearful that the feelings his question brings out will be right on the surface of your expression.

Date. It’s a scary word. You and Seungcheol sort of go on dates all the time, but they’re not really dates. At least, not from your perspective. If you were to ask Jeonghan, he would launch into another lecture that you should just put a goddamn title on this thing. Vin happily agrees, both of them hammering you on calling the thing between you and Seuncheol what it is.

But it’s friends with benefits. Friends go out to eat meals together and go shopping together - they hangout. The benefits are the sex. It’s the pressing you against your mattress as he maps your body with his mouth, it’s the way you sink to your knees for him after he’s had a bad day at work, taking him into the heat of your mouth to make him forget. 

So yes, you’ve gone places together alone and as a friend date. But somehow this feels different, and you don’t think it’s supposed to. 

Carefully, you ask, “Your date, huh?”

“Mhmm. Free drinks and apps, and it’s at the top of that fancy new hotel. We can stay the night so we don’t have to pay for an expensive as fuck Uber” 

Not for the first time, you find yourself unsure where the line is with Seungcheol. You’ve agreed multiple times that this is just casual, a shared benefit between friends. And yet every time you feel confident in what you are, the line blurs. 

You’re as guilty as he is, you know. On more than one occasion you’re the one who has crossed the line, messing up the clear boundary the two of you have had in place for weeks. Somehow, you both manage to be utterly terrible at casual, but you’re too afraid to say something about it. Too afraid to ruin it. 

“I suppose I can be convinced.” 

“Oh? What can I do to convince you?” 

You look up as his tone turns to velvet, that voice he uses when he’s coaxing you into his lap, or when he’s- 

“It’s really hard to be sexy when there’s grape juice running down your chin, Cheol.” 

He pouts, grabbing a paper towel to wipe the lower half of his face as you laugh. He’s cute, pink lips downturned and eyes round as he sulks. “Don’t make fun of me. Just say yes to being my date.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go.” 

His grin is burnished gold, the sun breaking for first light over the horizon. “Thank you.” 

“Mhmm.” He crunches into another grape and you scowl. “Stop eating all my fucking grapes!” 

-

DAY NINETY TWO

“Holy shit,” Seungcheol mutters when you step out of the hotel bedroom. He feels his heart start to pound in his chest from where he stands in the kitchenette, fingers squeezing the glass of whiskey he poured himself earlier. “You look unreal.”

And you do. You always do. It was one of the first things he noticed about you when Jeonghan and Joshua introduced the two of you that first night at that shitty bar you like to go to on Fridays. The real kicker had been your personality, though. Warm, kind, quick wit. A bit of a history nerd, which is his favorite thing. 

Honestly, he loves a lot of things about you. He knows that he has to do something about that. Knows that this stopped being casual a long time ago. Seungcheol has no problem with casual hookups and keeping people in a rotation, but when it comes to you… he just wants you. 

It’s like he has no idea how to keep his distance, how to keep his feelings out of it. He doesn’t mind, but he needs to figure out how to tell you. How to take that next step and move you from friends to more - if that’s what you want, anyway. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you say back neutrally. He can see the way your eyes linger on him though, your gaze betraying the calmness of your voice, as always.

You don’t get it, though. Seungcheol cannot keep his eyes off you, dragging them from top to bottom. The black dress is snug on your frame, his eyes tracing the swells of your breasts, the dip of your hips, the curve of your ass and thighs. 

Dragging his eyes back up, he meets your gaze. That is one of his favorite things. Your eyes, full of light and depth and thoughts that he always wants to fall into. There is so much simmering under the surface that you don’t say and he’s never asked.

He wants to. 

Knocking back the rest of his drink, Seungcheol leaves the glass on the counter and walks over to you. You shift from foot to foot, eyes darting up to examine the ceiling. He smirks, feeling the nerves radiating from you as he approaches. 

When he reaches out, you don’t step away from him. You let him skim his hands up your sides, going until he’s running them over your shoulders and on either side of your neck so he can cradle your face. He turns your gaze back to him and you stare up at him through your lashes. 

He was a goner on day one. How ridiculous to think he’s not just made this real, told you how he doesn’t want a single thing to be casual and superficial between you. 

Instead of stealing a searing kiss and pushing you back into the bedroom like he wants to, Seungcheol presses a short kiss to the corner of your mouth. He’s too afraid that if he starts something that you won’t make it downstairs. 

Now isn’t the time for that, though. There’s a party upstairs and free drinks and he wants to spend time with his friends. Spend time with you.

The Seungcheol that existed before you is a stranger to him. He barely remembers what it was like to have people he wasn’t genuinely interested in, what it was like to show up alone at parties and take someone home. Hardly recalls pushing people away when they wanted too much. 

All it took was meeting you.

“Come on,” he urges gently, leading you from the room and to the elevator. 

Seungcheol slides his phone from his pocket in the elevator. You press close against him, your arm brushing against his as it fills up with people. He notes where Wonwoo tells him to meet and puts his phone back in his pocket, leaning into you a little.

You let him, making his mouth twitch upward. You always let him do what he wants, and when you don’t, an easy pout gets his way. He’s wrapped around your finger, too. He doesn’t know if you realize it, but he would give you anything you wanted without a moment's hesitation. 

When the elevator doors open, Seungcheol takes your hand. You let him pull you into the party teeming with people, the sound of music swelling over the dull roar of the crowd. You stick closer to him, fingers squeezing him tightly as the pair of you walk toward the check-in table. 

“This is beautiful,” you murmur to him. 

His first instinct is to look at you because you are beautiful. You’re not looking at him, your neck craned to sweep over the party. He smiles at you, watching the glow of your side profile, eyes wide with wonder.

Dragging his eyes from your face, he glances around the party. It is gorgeous, with views of the entire city glittering beneath the building like a bed of stars, shimmering decorations reflecting the golden lights, a giant clock to show the time, and massive flower arrangements. 

“It’s nice,” he agrees, shuffling to the table where he gives his name. “Choi Seungcheol.”

“Perfect, thanks.” The person working the table peels two wristbands and gestures for you both to hold out your wrists. You let go of his hand to do so, letting the attendant wrap your arm in a blue band. “Have a great night, Mr. and Mrs. Choi.” 

Both of you blink in surprise. You open and close your mouth as if you’re unsure how to correct them and Seungcheol laughs, shrugging as he takes your hand and leads you out of the line and into the party proper this time.

“This way, wifey.” 

You roll your eyes but grin anyway, looping your arm through his offered one and tugging him close. He’s satisfied, leading you through the tight crowd of people toward the south bar that Wonwoo had said their friends were waiting at.

Joshua spots you and waves you both over, making room at the bar for you to join. Jeonghan’s eyes flick to where your arm is looped through Seungcheol to Seungcheol himself, raising a brow. Seungcheol glares at him, urging him to shut up and Jeonghan grins, turning to order drinks at the bar. 

Wonwoo claps Seungcheol on the back in greeting before kissing you on both cheeks and letting you sit on the only barstool available. Seungcheol moves with you pressed to your back as he leans an elbow on the bar, keeping you close. You lean into him, earning a shy smile that he tries to hide behind the rim of the champagne glass that Jeonghan hands him.

He likes this. He likes being with his friends. He likes the way you laugh and lean back further into him when you do. He likes that his friends don’t bother the two of you about being attached at the hip. And he likes the way your face lights up every time he jokingly calls you wifey. 

Seungcheol wants this. 

He doesn’t recall the last time he wanted a relationship the way he wants with you. It doesn’t matter anyway. Everything before you is gone and forgotten, and what matters now are the things that are post-meeting-you. 

Plied with lots of champagne and your laughter, Seungcheol lets you drag him onto the dance floor, wrapping your arms around him as he spins you. He doesn’t know what has him more drunk, the alcohol or you. He thinks it might be you. 

The DJ announces that it’s one minute until midnight, making Seungcheol spin and look up at the clock. The partygoers cheer, clustering together to press toward the clock to count down. Seungcheol wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you close in the tight crowd. 

His heart flutters as he watches the numbers countdown, realizing he gets to kiss you at midnight. He’s kissed you over a hundred times by now, but the prospect makes him giddy. His heart races as the numbers drop and he looks at you from the corner of your eye.

You’re watching the clock, uncontrolled happiness on your face as you yell with the rest of the crowd, counting each number as it passes by. 

When the clock strikes midnight, you peer up at him, suddenly unsure. He can’t believe you don’t see it, that you’d doubt for one second that he wants you to be his first kiss of the year. His heart seizes, dipping down with a smile to press his lips to yours.

Your mouth is warm and champagne-sweet, making him groan in the back of his throat. Your fingers cling to his hip, holding him by the waist as he slips a hand up to the back of your neck to hold you in place, deepening the kiss. 

When you pull your mouth away, he makes up his mind. Fuck everything he said about keeping it casual - he doesn’t want to go another minute without you knowing what he wants. 

-

DAY NINETY THREE

“Be my girlfriend.”

The words that come from Seungcheol’s lips catch you off guard. A giggle bursts to your lips and you lean back, trying to examine him from a little farther away. You feel the glitter of champagne in your veins and the same buzz that comes with being near Seungcheol, wondering if maybe he’s had too much to drink.

“What?” you ask, examining his face. He’s flushed, lips pink and smiling, but his eyes are dark and serious.

“Be my girlfriend,” he says again, this time quieter. He leans forward, pressing his forehead to yours. His breath fans your face, warm and sweetened by champagne. “I know we agreed to be casual so if you don’t want more, that’s fine. But there is nothing casual about the way I feel about you.”

Heart thundering, you laugh and cling to him a little tighter. He nudges you with his head, as though asking what’s so funny. You don’t know how to put into words that you’ve wanted to be not casual for a long time, that you are dizzy with the prospect of being something more, that he’s just made the first minute of your year perfect.

Instead of trying to string together the words to tell him, you kiss him. His mouth turns upward, letting you press your palms to the sides of his face, holding him to your lips. There’s no one else but just the two of you, entirely in your own bubble on the rooftop. 

Relief mixed with euphoria floods your system. It’s a weight lifted off your shoulders, realizing that you’re not crazy, that nothing you feel about Seungcheol is casual and that’s okay. That he feels it too. 

Your fingers slide into the hair at the back of his neck, pulling slightly. He groans, separating your mouths to peer down at you, his lashes fanning when he blinks, dazed. 

“Don’t do that,” he whispers. “This is a work party. I’ll fold right here.” 

“So take me somewhere that isn’t here and fold.”

His gummy smile is blinding, your heart soaring. “Alright, wifey.” 

“Gonna need a ring pop at a minimum if you’re gonna keep saying that shit.”

He links your fingers together, stepping away from you. He tugs you after him and you follow. “Deal. What flavor?”

“Strawberry. I kind of want to suck something else right now, though.” 

Seungcheol groans and you laugh, loving the way he visibly struggles as your words land. He walks faster, a new pep in his step as you make your way toward the elevator. He shouts Wonwoo’s name as he goes, waving his hand to tell him that you’re leaving. 

Wonwoo’s grin is all-knowing as he throws two thumbs up, cheering happily. You tingle with a little bit of embarrassment, scurrying toward the closing elevator door to catch it. It opens again and you both slip inside, alone and buzzing from the party and your newfound status. 

The door closes and Seungcheol pushes in close. You press against the wall, looking up at his sharp grin, his nose nudging yours. His lips are almost on yours, the heat of them against your mouth making you dizzy and the heavy weight of his body against yours making your thoughts sticky. 

“Gonna suck something else, huh?” 

“Uh huh.” 

“Wanna do it right here in the elevator?” 

“Huh?” 

He bursts into laughter at your wide gaze, tapping the underside of your chin with his knuckle in jest. “I’m kidding. Unless…”

You shove him away and he starts laughing again, bending over with the force of it. You can’t be annoyed by his teasing, loving the way his eyes crease at the corner and how he laughs with the full force of his body. 

“You’re so annoying.” 

“You should have seen your face, though.” 

“I mean I’ll do it right now, if you want.”

His smile drops and he opens his mouth a little, shocked. “Wait, really?”

“No, but you should have seen your face.”

The elevator arriving at the appropriate floor saves him from answering. He scowls at you and you giggle, grabbing him and pushing him into the hall and toward your room. He turns on his heel, falling into step with you and fishing the room key out of his pocket. 

It’s cold in the room when you enter. Seungcheol had booked a one bedroom suite with a small living room and kitchenette. It was more than what you needed for the night, but it feels nice, like your own private getaway. 

Taking you by the hand, he walks backward toward the bedroom, pulling you along. His smile is beautiful and you wear a matching one. A thrill shoots through you when you realize that Seungcheol is yours. Really yours. 

Sitting on the bed, he pulls you into his lap. Your knees sink in the mattress on either side of his hips, ass resting on his thighs. Leaning over him, you link your hands behind the back of his neck, threading your fingers through the silky hair there. 

Seungcheol tilts his face up toward you, eyes fluttering as you play with his hair. His arms loop around your waist, squeezing you. 

“Hi,” he breathes. 

“Hi.”

Leaning down, you slot your mouth against his. He tastes like champagne, mouth warm. Kissing him takes your breath away, thoughts guttering out as he licks into your mouth hungrily. You lose yourself in the feeling of him, feeling like you’re on fire. 

Seungcheol falls backward on the bed. His lips are swollen and pink, eyes heavy-lidded as he stares up at you. He reaches for you but you give him a coy smile and slip from his lap, crouching to the floor and running your hands along his thighs, feeling them flex beneath your touch. 

You love Seungcheol’s thighs. Your nails drag across the fabric and he lets out a breathy sound. His muscles twitch as you reach to brush your fingers over his zipper, making sure to press into his cock. His hips jerk upward at the barest hint of stimulation and you grin.

“It’s no elevator,” you tease. “But will this do?” 

“Fucking anywhere will do.” 

Seungcheol has always been sensitive. He’s easy to rile, cock already firm by the time you’re undoing his belt and he’s helping you pull his dress pants down his thighs. You eye the dark patch in his briefs, proud that with just a little bit of kissing and some light touching he’s already leaking at the tip.

Sitting high on your knees, you lean forward, tongue pressing wetly to the tip of his cock through the fabric. A hand shoots to the back of your head, his fingers gripping you firmly as you laugh, tongue still pressed to him and soaking through his briefs.

“Don’t you dare tease me tonight,” he warns, voice shaky. “That is not wifey behavior.” 

You remove your tongue, pouting and moving to press a kiss to his thigh. “You never let me tease you.” 

“I’m not patient.” Your teeth scrape the softness of his flesh and his legs twitch, knees knocking your shoulder. “Baby, I am so serious.”

Biting your bottom lip to hide a smile, you give in. You know with certainty he’d let you drag this out if you really wanted to. Seungcheol is impatient and greedy and demanding, but he also lets you do what you want when it comes down to it. 

Instead of testing his grace, you peel his briefs down, freeing his cock. Your mouth waters at his thick length, your hand automatically reaching up to grab him. You swipe your thumb through the precum gathered, using it to slide down the full length of his shaft.

Seungcheol’s hips buck. You grip him properly, working him slowly as you shuffle closer on your knees. They already hurt, hotel carpet digging into them but you ignore it in favor of watching the way his fingers slowly undo the button of his shirt, needing to shuck the fabric off. 

“You’re pretty,” you note absently. His stomach flexes when he sits up to slide his shirt off of his shoulders. He looks down at you, pupils dilated. “Very, very pretty.” 

“You’re a work of art yourself.”

Instead of laying back down flat, he leans back on his palms, letting his head fall back. Seungcheol shuts his eyes, face tilted up at the ceiling as though in prayer. “Feels good.”

Humming happily, you lean forward and slowly run the flat of your tongue up the base of his shaft. That draws a low moan out of him, his chest rising and falling as he pants. You’re fascinated by his reactions, watching his face and body language carefully as you swirl your tongue around the crown of his cock.

He’s responsive, fingers digging into the sheets in an effort not to grab your head and take control. He’s testing his patience, letting you bring him into the wet heat of your mouth at your pace, sucking lazily. 

“Fuck,” he groans. You hum around him and he shakes his head, shivering. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Good you think, setting a proper place as you swallow him down, letting your spit pool to help make the glide easier. It’s messy and wet, just the way Seungcheol likes it, his moans backtracking the slick sounds coming from your mouth.

What you can’t fit in your mouth properly, you cover with your hand, squeezing periodically as you stroke upward, meeting your stretched lips. 

“God,” Seungcheol whispers. “You know how to suck cock.”

Pulling off of him with a wet pop, you grin, feeling the sting in your mouth from the stretch. Your lips are cum and spit-slicked, sticky as you continue to stroke him. 

“Thanks,” you laugh. “I heard I’m wifey material.”

“Fucking, shit, yeah a little bit. Fuckkkk, mouth please.” 

You comply, sucking him back into your mouth. He’s putty underneath you, hips twitching off the bed a little as soft sounds drip from his mouth. You watch, totally hypnotized by the way he moved, the way his hairline gets a little sweaty as he nods, encouraging you. 

Biting his lip, he lifts a hand from the bed to grab at you, pulling you off of him. “Come here,” he growls, opening his. 

Seungcheol pulls you to him, not caring that your mouth is a mess. His tongue delves in, exploring the mixed taste of champagne and precum, hands pulling at your dress to peel it off of you. 

“Let me sit against the headboard,” he pants, breaking the kiss to scoot backward. You peel your underwear off and toss them, following him across the mattress as he settles. He pats his lap and reaches for you. “Come here, baby.” 

You settle into his lap again, mouth melding to his. His hands explore you, gripping your ass, squeezing your waist, running up your front to pinch at your nipples. You moan into his mouth, carding your fingers in his hair and pulling at the stimulation, your head tilting back a little.

He takes the opportunity to attach his lips to your throat, biting sharply and soothing the sting with his tongue. Sinking a little lower, you feel your pussy brush against his cock and you sigh, gently rolling your hips to slide your sticky folds up his shaft. 

Seungcheol groans against you, mouth feverish against your skin. He maps your throat, kissing and biting his way to your chest, where he steals a pert nipple into his mouth to give a harsh suck. You squeal and he grins, plucking at your sensitive bud with his teeth. 

Holding onto him, you let him lavish attention to your tits the way he wants, hands squeezing, tongue flicking. It feels good. Aflame, you continue to roll your hips shallowly in his waist, just giving the barest of stimulation to you both.

A hand slides between your legs, his fingers finding your swelling clit, pressing against it. You whine loudly, fighting off a violent shiver. He grins where he has your breast in his mouth, sucking generously as he lazily circles your clit with his fingers. 

“Cheol,” you whisper-whine. “You said no teasing.”

“I said no teasing me.” His fingers slide backward and dip into your entrance teasingly. You clench around nothing, aching for him to do something. “Flustered, huh?” 

“Please give me something.”

He presses his lips against the side of your jaw, grinning. “Fine.” He sinks a single finger into you and you sigh in immediate relief. It isn’t enough but it’s something, your hips rocking to take him in deeper. “Better?”

“I can take more.” 

“Of course you can.” He pushes in another finger, the stretch so good. “You’re my girl. You can take what I give you.”

Dropping your head to his shoulder, you nod. You hide your face in his flushed skin, riding his fingers as he slowly slides them home, working you gently. They press against your sensitive spot and you curse, gripping him a little tighter. 

Impatient and needing more, you grind yourself forward, fucking his hand properly. He laughs, letting you take what you need, cupping you fully so the heel of his palm grinds into your clit. Your movements are frenzied, driven by the desire for him, the feeling curling inside you. 

“Just like that,” he encourages. “Fuck yourself on my fingers just like that.” 

You do, thighs aching and body shaking. The sheets stick to your legs as you work yourself up, sweaty palms sliding against Seungcheol’s shoulders. He whispers in your ear, voice low and scratchy, adding to the building mania inside of you. 

“Shit,” you hiss, feeling the tightness in your stomach start to boil over. 

“Come on, come around my fingers. You got it.” 

His gentle voice pushes you over all the way and you clench around his fingers, coming undone. Your hips stop moving and your legs squeeze around his as you seize up. Seungcheol is having none of it, taking the lead to drive his fingers up into you as you flutter around him.

“Oh,” you gasp as he finer fucks you through the rest of your orgasm, sucking at a tender spot on your neck until you’re trembling and a mess. “Okay, okay, okay.” 

Seungcheol takes it easy on you, pulling his fingers from between your legs with a slick noise. You heave against him, catching your breath while he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks obnoxiously. 

“Mmm.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He smacks your ass and you squeak. “Ride my cock like that?” 

Huffing, you extend to your full height on your knees. He grabs the base of his shaft, eyes fixed on the mess between your legs as you sink down slowly. His tip breaches you, both of you letting out a sound as you keep going, holding your breath as he stretches you open.

Seungcheol taps your waist. “Breathe.” 

You do, inhaling a breath as you nestle in his lap, seated fully, clenching around him. “Thanks.”

“Mhmm.” 

Seungcheol’s hands move up your sides, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. This time, you know the look in his eye is real. His gaze is covetous, looking at you like you’re his because you are. 

You catch his hands with yours, linking your finger and squeezing. He smiles, looking up at you with dark locks of hair in his face. You smile back, starting to roll your hips, using his hands to steady yourself.

Everything feels like an exposed nerve. The cool air of the hotel room brushes across your back, making you shiver. The mattress dips under your movement, your thighs flexing to keep your balance steady, Seungcheol’s grip on you helping. 

“You’re so perfect,” Seungcheol mutters, using your linked hands to pull you toward him. Your hands slip from him, going to the headboard to help lift you instead. His grip finds your waist, aiding in your movement while his mouth finds your breasts. “God these tits.” 

An ache settles in your thighs but you ignore it, chasing an orgasm. You tremble in his hold, breath punching out of you as he mumbles your name, watching you with fucked out eyes and lips parted, like you’re giving him everything he ever wanted.

You kind of feel that way. The way he looks at you isn’t that different from before, but now you’re confident in it, realizing that everything with Seungcheol felt too intimate because it was. Casual was never the right name for it, neither of you having any idea how to really be no strings attached. 

“My fucking legs hurt,” you admit, panting. “Can you take over?” 

“Mhmm.” Seungcheol surges forward, knocking you backward onto the bed. You laugh, bouncing a little as he pulls out and helps maneuver you. “Turn around for me.” 

With shaking arms, you follow his instruction. The sheets cling to you as you roll, making you huff and swat at them. He chuckles, peeling them away from your sweaty skin while you settle on your stomach, arching your ass a little. 

He palms your left cheek, groaning and dragging his blunt nails down the curve to your hip where he grabs you. “Unreal,” he whispers, to either you or himself. 

You gasp when he thrusts pack in, punching the air from your lungs as he sets a sharp pace. You jostle on the bed, grabbing the sheets and knotting your hands in them to keep you in place, a stream of whimpers leaving you. 

A hand slips up your spine, pressing flat between your shoulder blades, pushing you down further into the bed. You gasp and nod, Seungcheol taking it as a sign to put more weight into it, angling his hips so he’s fucking down into you. 

It’s hard to breathe, the dizziness taking over as your skin starts to turn to static, orgasm so close that you can feel the buzz between your legs. He keeps going like that, pinning you hard to the bed as his hips crash into yours. 

His name leaves your mouth in a cry as you squeeze around him, letting loose. He curses, picking up his pace, ignoring the wet squelch as he does, palm pressing you harder into the bed as you come. 

You think you might disintegrate, unable to do anything but make broken sounds as he chases his orgasm. Just when you think you might not get another breath, he comes, the pressure on your back lifting a little. You gasp for air, feeling the room tilt as his thrusts slow, becoming gentle. 

Seungcheol’s hands are soothing on your back, fingers dancing up and down your spine, delicate. He’s muttering something to you but you can’t hear him, the pounding of your heart far too loud, pulse rattling in your ears. 

When his hips are still, his hands keep moving. He leans over you, careful not to put his weight on you, mouth kissing across your shoulders. Your cheek is pressed flat against the sheet as you pant, coming down from a fever pitch. 

“You okay if I get up and get you water?” the question is whispered across your cheek, where Seungcheol presses a tender kiss. You nod and he kisses you again before peeling away from you. 

Laying in the bed, you drift, listening to him shuffle around to the kitchen. You’re sleepy but more aware now. When the bed dips again, you crack your eye open, watching as he navigates carefully on his knees, two glasses of water in hand. 

“Can you sit up or do you need help?” You shake your head and muster the strength you have left to sit up. Your muscles spasm as you do, a groan leaving your mouth as the room spins from the change in perspective. “You okay?”

“Thirsty,” you rasp, reaching for the glass he offers. Gulping down the cool water, you’re aware of his eyes on you, watching you drain the glass as he sips his. “Thank you.”

He takes the empty glass and kisses your lips. “Mhmm. Need more?”

“No, I’m good. I just need to sleep for five hundred years, no big deal.” 

“Damn, five hundred goes crazy. Do you think we’ll have flying cars by then?” 

Seungcheol puts both glasses on the nightstand and peels back the covers of the bed. He slips under them, patting the spot next to him. You crawl over, limbs heavy and uncoordinated. He laughs at you and you scowl, but manage to clamber in next to him, warm beneath the blankets and tucked into his chest.

“Yes, definitely. And like giant sexy holograms advertising porn, probably.”

“That’s the first thing you think of in the future? Porn?”

“Listen,” you huff, laying your head against his chest and closing your eyes. “I’m still a little champagne buzzed and you just fucked me until I couldn’t breathe for a while. Cut me slack.” 

“Sure thing, wifey.” 

“Ugh. Is that our thing now?” 

“Mhmm. Everything pre-relationship has henceforth been replaced with the relationship-only era. Pretend you have amnesia.” 

A huff of laughter leaves you. “Sure thing.” 

“I mean I feel like I have amnesia.” You give him a questioning look. He’s contemplative, staring with unseeing eyes as he plays with your fingers. “I had an entire life and habits before you, and I swear it’s like sometimes my memory actually starts with that first night at the bar.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re just around a lot and I like to think it’s always been that way. And I’m kind of sorry for taking so long to admit nothing about this was casual for me.” 

You smile. “Wasn’t for me either.” 

“Good.” He snuggles into you, settling in silence for a few moments. “Thanks for letting me win pool that first night.” 

“I did not let you win that game, oh my god.” 

“Just admit it! You wanted to taste my goodies and you let me win.” 

“I’m gonna give you some damn amnesia,” you mutter, but grin as he hugs you tight.

“Sure thing, wifey. Sure thing.” 

-

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[harrysfolklore]

yn piastri fretting over oscar’s broken rib and oscar’s like, “gee you’re worst than mum” & nicole’s just like, “yeah i don’t need to worry about oscar when yn’s around”

the rumors are true: i'm obsessed with writing this little scenarios

read little bitch here

"Are you absolutely sure you're comfortable? Maybe we should prop you up a bit more," you hover anxiously over Oscar, adjusting his pillow for the third time in as many minutes." Oh, and do you need more ice? I can run and get some. Actually, should we call the doctor again? Just to double-check everything's okay?"

"YN, I'm fine," Oscar groans, "It's just a broken rib, not the end of the world. I'll be racing in Hungary next weekend anyway."

"What? No, absolutely not!" your eyes widen in alarm. "You can't race with a broken rib, Oscar. That's insane!"

Oscar rolls his eyes dramatically. "It's cracked, not broken. And I've been cleared by the medical team," he stresses, "You're worse that mum sometimes."

From her seat in the corner, Nicole chuckles. "Oh yeah, I don't even have to worry about you when your sister is around. She's got the overprotective mother role covered."

"Thanks, Mum," you say, turning to her. "My therapist has great opinions about it. She says my anxiety comes from a place of love."

"Yeah, well, your love is suffocating me right now," Oscar snorts.

"Osc, I'm just worried about you," you stressed again, "It's too dangerous. What if you crash? What if your rib punctures a lung? What if-"

"What if aliens invade during the race?" Oscar interrupts, mimicking your concerned tone. "What if a meteor hits the track? What if I suddenly forget how to drive?"

"This isn't funny, Oscar! I'm serious!"

"So am I! Carlos nearly drove with a burst appendix, and he was fine!"

Carlos, who's been quietly watching the siblings' back-and-forth like a tennis match, pipes up. "Well, 'fine' might be stretching it. I was in quite a bit of pain, actually."

You whirled on Carlos, who suddenly looked very interested in the ceiling. "Oh, don't even get me started on that piece of stupidity!"

"In my defense," Carlos cleared his throat awkwardly. "I didn't actually race…"

"Only because the team had more sense than you did!" you exclaimed.

"Back when you pretended to hate Carlos but you were at the edge of your seat worrying the entire time he was at the hospital," Oscar teased, making you roll your eyes.

"That's not the point right now," you crosses your arms over your chest, glaring at Oscar. "We're talking about your safety, not my past… concerns."

"Oh, but I think it is relevant," Oscar grins mischievously, sensing an opportunity. "Remember how you kept texting the group chat every five minutes when Carlos was in the hospital? 'Just being a decent human being,' you said. As if we couldn't see right through you."

You feel your cheeks heat up, aware of Carlos' gaze on you. "That's... that's completely irrelevant," you stammer.

"Is that so, hermosa?" Carlos chuckles softly, moving to stand beside you. "I didn't know you cared so much back then."

You shoot Carlos a look that's half embarrassment, half exasperation. "Don't you start. And you," you turn back to Oscar, pointing an accusing finger, "stop trying to change the subject. We're talking about your cracked rib and your ridiculous idea to race with it."

Nicole, who's been watching the exchange with poorly concealed amusement, decides to intervene. "Alright, kids, let's all take a breath. YN, honey, I understand you're worried. But Oscar's right - he's been cleared by the medical team. They wouldn't let him race if it wasn't safe."

"But-" you start to protest, only to be cut off by Oscar.

"No buts," he says firmly. "I appreciate the concern, sis, I really do. But this is my job, and sometimes it comes with risks. I promise I'll be careful, okay?"

You sigh, feeling your resolve weaken. "Fine. But I swear, Oscar, if you so much as wince during that race, I'm storming the track myself."

"Now that I'd pay to see. YN vs. Formula 1 security," Carlos jokes, "My money's on you, mi amor."

As you and Oscar continue to bicker, your mom and Carlos exchange amused glances. Carlos leans towards her, speaking in a low voice.

"Has YN always been like this?" he asks, a fond smile playing on his lips as he watches you fuss over Oscar.

"Oh, you have no idea," Nicole chuckles softly. "This is actually quite mild compared to when they were kids. There was this one time when Oscar was about seven, and he fell off his bike. Scraped his knee pretty badly. YN, who was ten at the time, went into full nurse mode."

"What did she do?" Carlos raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Well," she continues, "She insisted on 'quarantining' Oscar in his room for a week, claiming he needed complete bed rest. She even made a 'Do Not Disturb: Patient Recovering' sign for his door. Poor Oscar was going stir-crazy by day two, but YN wouldn't let him leave. She brought him all his meals, read him stories, everything."

Carlos can't help but laugh at the image. "That sounds exactly like something she would do."

"Oh, it gets better," Nicole grins. "When I finally convinced her that Oscar was fine to go outside, she insisted on wrapping him in bubble wrap before he could ride his bike again. Said it was 'necessary protective gear'. Oscar looked like a little astronaut waddling down the street."

Their laughter catches your attention, and you pause in your debate with Oscar about the dangers of racing with a cracked rib. "What's so funny?" you ask suspiciously.

Before Nicole can respond, Oscar, catching on to the conversation, groans dramatically. "Oh god, Mum, please tell me you're not telling the bubble wrap story."

Your eyes widen in realization, and you feel a blush creeping up your neck. "Mum! You promised never to mention that again!"

Carlos, still chuckling, wraps an arm around your waist. "I think it's adorable, hermosa. You've always been a protector."

"Well control your girlfriend! She's trying to bubble wrap me again, I swear!"

"I am not! Although..." you trail off, a mischievous glint in your eye, "it's not a bad idea for the race. Extra padding couldn't hurt, right?"

"YN, no!"

[phefics]

veritaserum

ship: fred weasley x reader x george weasley summary: fred and george dose the reader with a truth serum, which leads to her admitting a sexual fantasy including both brothers. warnings: dubious consent (truth potion is used to make the reader admit her sexual fantasies which then play out), pseudo-inc3st (the twins don't do anything sexual to each other but are both involved in the same sexual scenario), gender-neutral!reader (reader has a vagina but no pronouns are used) word count: 1.9k

Being friends with the Weasley twins was a constant rollercoaster.

There was never a dull moment, always an adventure to go on, a prank to pull, or witty banter bouncing between you and the brothers. Sometimes, you were helping Fred and George pull off their next big joke, but other times, you were their target. Sure, it could be frustrating, but it was also fun for you, and you always found ways to get them back.

You had been friends with the twins since your first year at Hogwarts, and that friendship had continued past Hogwarts and followed you into early-adulthood. You visited them at the flat over their shop in Diagon Alley often, where they showed you prototypes for new products and made you laugh until you cried with their antics.

It was a cold evening when you appeared in their fireplace, a bit dusty from the ashes, and were greeted with excited shouts from Fred and George before being pulled into a group hug.

As you looked up at their grinning faces, you couldn’t believe that there were people who still got the twins confused.

Fred had more freckles on his face, while George’s shoulders and arms had an abundance of them. When Fred laughed, he threw his head back, cackling loudly, while George usually gave more reserved chuckles, laughing down at his lap. And, well, George was fully missing an ear now, and Fred had a large scar on his temple from the Battle, where a piece of castle wall had crashed down on top of him.

“Finally,” Fred said, man-handling you onto the couch. “We’ve been waiting ages!”

“I’m only a few minutes late,” you replied, glancing at their clock, which wasn’t even working—it read 3:15, but it was well past 7:00 judging by the darkness outside.

“And are our few minutes not important to you?” George asked, sitting by your side. “We could have been using that time to come up with more brilliant inventions.”

“Or planned a clever scheme to spill a bucket of water on your head when you arrived,” Fred added.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m terribly sorry to have wasted your precious time,” you said, tone thick with sarcasm.

It was nice catching up with them. They updated you on each member of the Weasley family, such as Fleur’s pregnancy with her and Bill’s first child, or Percy’s upcoming wedding. You updated them on your own life as well, and it wasn’t long until they had pushed a glass of Firewhiskey into your hands.

“So, Y/N,” Fred said, leaning against the back of the couch. You immediately recognized the glint of mischief in his brown eyes, and braced yourself for whatever ridiculous question he was about to pose.

“Which of us do you think is the better looking twin?”

You opened your mouth, intending to say something like ‘neither of you’ or ‘you’re identical—what kind of stupid question is that?’ but the sentence that spilled from your lips instead was, “Well, you look pretty much the same, so I’d say you guys are equally attractive. I think the scar makes you look pretty hot, Fred, but George can really pull off the whole missing ear thing.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth, face burning.

The twins both erupted into giggles.

“Oh, you’re too kind!” George said. “I’m glad you find my lack of an ear sexy.”

“And my scar is flattered,” Fred added.

“What did you two do?” you asked, scowling.

“We might have stumbled upon a vial of Veritaserum…” George said, trying and failing to look guilty. “And put it in your drink. Just a drop, though! It’ll wear off soon.”

You wanted to insult them, yell at them, call them every insult and curse under the sun, but no words would leave your tongue. It was like the truth serum wouldn’t even let you pretend to be pissed off. Sure, this was an invasion of your privacy and totally sketchy, but you had known Fred and George for so long, you were sort of used to their antics by now. You should have been way angrier than you were, but it was just so typical of them, you couldn’t muster much more than annoyance.

What you did manage to say was, “Why?”

Both twins shrugged.

“For fun,” Fred said.

“And because we were curious about something,” George replied.

“About what?”

“About which of us you like better.”

You blinked at them. “Are you serious? We aren’t eleven anymore. Is it really a contest between you two to be the better twin?”

“Not really, no,” Fred said. “Even though we all know that it's me.”

George reached over you to playfully shove his brother’s shoulder. “It’s not about proving anything. We’re just curious. So, Y/N, who do you like better: me or Freddie?”

“I like you equally,” you said. “You are both hilarious, intelligent, and my best friends. I find it easier to connect with George on serious things, but Fred always knows the right thing to say when I need cheering up.”

Your face was flushing deeper, embarrassed at the cheesy, sentimental words that left your mouth. Fred and George had grown up in an incredibly loving, affectionate family and had never shied away from making their love known, but it was awkward to voice your own feelings out loud like that.

Both twins seemed rather touched, though

“Wow, I was expecting you to have to pick,” Fred said. “But that’s oddly sweet.”

You groaned. “Okay, okay, yes, I love you both, can we knock this off now?”

“No, we have more questions!”

“Such as…?”

“Would you fuck either of us?” George asked.

Fred was normally the more vulgar of the two, and the question coming from George’s lips instead took you even more off guard.

“Yes,” you said, unable to stop yourself. “Either of you. Or both of you.”

“At the same time?”

“Yes.”

Fred and George also showed their emotions differently. Fred was better at keeping his feelings to himself, but when he was flustered, his ears would turn pink. His ears had flushed slightly, and his eyes were wide as he licked his lips, clearly intrigued by your answer. George was also flushed, but the color went to his face, and he brushed his thumbs repeatedly over his thighs, a nervous tick he’d always had.

“Have you thought about this a lot?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Tell us how you’d want it.”

You couldn’t help but answer. “I would let you strip off my clothes, groping me. One of you is behind me, kissing my neck as you take off my shirt. The other is at my feet, pulling my pants down. Neither of you shut up the whole time, talking about me like I’m not even there. Commenting to each other about how pretty I am, how wet my pussy is for you. Whoever is between my legs starts to go down on me, while the other holds my body still so I can’t move away from how good it feels. I cum on your tongue, and the other wants a turn, too…”

The twins were both clearly aroused as you spoke.

“Do you want that? Now?” Fred asked, his voice low.

“Yes,” you breathed. 

They waste no time switching their positions on the couch, George pulling your back against his chest while Fred positions himself between your legs, his hands eagerly moving to the waistband of your pants, tugging at it.

George took his time, hands sliding up your shirt, touching softly as he felt you up, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, lips teasing the skin there.

You couldn’t help but whine under their touches, loving every moment of it. You had truly dreamt of this for years, always too afraid to ruin the friendship. Sure, you had kissed both twins for dares back at school, but this was real and intimate and beautiful.

Fred made quick work of getting your bottom half undressed, and he kissed his ways along your thighs, cupping your ass with one hand, squeezing hard.

“So fuckin’ hot,” George breathed.

“I know, right?” Fred replied. “So good for us, too. Are we making your fantasy come true, love?”

You nodded, whimpering softly.

“So needy, too. You want to cum for us?”

You nodded again. “Yes, yes please.”

George chuckled, nipping at your ear as Fred’s mouth finally reached your pussy, his tongue licking tentatively at you before he found your clit, which he immediately focused his attention on.

Your noises only grew louder, more desperate.

“Already? You’re not very good at this whole build-up thing, Freddie,” George said.

“I think we’ve waited long enough for this,” Fred replied before returning to his task.

“You don’t want to be patient, do you, darling?” George asked, hugging you tightly from behind. “You’ve wanted this for so long, you just want to be good for us, take everything we’ve got?”

“Fuck yes,” you moan.

Fred was clearly just as eager as you are, apparently trying to make you cum as quickly as possible, like he was placing bets in his head.

“You like that, hm? Is he good at it? Making you feel good?” George said.

“Feels so fucking good.”

“Good. You gonna cum for him?”

“Yes, yes, I’m—”

It didn’t take long at all. Fred’s tongue was good for more than just witty comments, and your legs trembled as he sat up, lips shining with your slick and a smug smile on his face.

“I think this is the part where we switch jobs, Georgie.”

Your pussy was already so wet, so sensitive, you knew that George would be able to make you cum fast, too. It was almost embarrassing how easy you were, how turned on they made you.

The twins switched positions, and Fred wrapped his arms around your middle sweetly, dragging his fingers over your waist and making goosebumps spread over your abdomen, squirming in his grasp.

“Don’t try and get away, sweet thing,” Fred said. “Otherwise George won’t be able to have his turn. Just be good for us, okay? Be a good little slut.”

You whined, face hot as George’s lips found your inner thighs and kissed the skin there, slowly, teasingly. He was the more patient, more methodical of the two. He wasn’t going to go straight for your clit, he was going to keep you wanting. Maybe until you begged.

Fred began sucking a hickey into your throat, leaving you a moaning mess as the twins both worshiped your body like it was something sacred.

Finally, George’s tongue found your pussy, teasing your hole and folds before even bothering to touch your clit.

“Should he put his fingers inside you?” Fred asked.

You nodded fervently, thrusting your hips.

George complied immediately, sliding one finger inside which was quickly followed by a second, pumping slowly before curling into that special spot, which he had found surprisingly easily.

Your second orgasm came just as quickly as the first, your hands balling into fists and your toes curling. Once your body was able to relax, you looked up through teary eyes to see George licking your taste off of his fingers.

“Was that everything you dreamed?” Fred asked.

You opened your mouth, expecting the answer to roll off your tongue, but it didn’t. You realized that the potion had worn off, and smirked.

“It could have been better,” you said, thrilled with your ability to lie again.

Obviously, Fred and George had to remedy that immediately.

[lunarmoves]

"have you—" you started, then stopped to mull over the phrasing of your question.

"have i?" sun's lighthearted response came a moment later when you hadn't yet said anything. he straightened up from where he'd been cleaning off one of the art tables in the daycare and spun his head around so he could peer at you backwards.

you twisted your lips to the side, your gaze directed skywards in thought. "hang on, i'm trying to figure out how to phrase this." your legs dangled from where you sat atop the security desk, swaying back and forth idly as you strung words together. sun was patient, though you could see the way he glanced around at all the messes he still needed to clean when you looked at him.

slowly, you spoke. "have you ever had like"—you tapped at your chin, eyebrows furrowed—"had any... involuntary actions?"

sun's head tilted to the side, his eyes squinting slightly. "depends. define 'involuntary'."

"well," you said with a hum, "like, i don't know. if something startled you, i guess."

"ah! you mean reactions," sun said, a finger in the air as he came to the realization. "reflexes, in a sense."

you snapped your fingers and pointed at him. bingo! "yeah! exactly that. you ever had any?"

he smiled at you and turned away so he could resume his cleaning. "can't say that we've had! it is an utterly human thing, i'm afraid."

you frowned, shoulders slouching at his easy dismissal. you watched him pick up some scattered crayons on another small table. "really? not at all?"

"nope!" he replied cheerfully. "each and every action we take is done after careful computation, making them all completely voluntary." he tossed the crayons in his large hands into their designated container, then turned to look at you with his hands on his slim hips. "for example, the probability of you answering with 'are they really' is approximately 93.456 percent."

"are they—" you caught yourself from responding in the middle of his explanation, closing your mouth with an audible click. sun gave you a wide grin.

"see? and as such i am able to properly give a response! there is no scenario that i am unprepared for!"

you pursed your lips and discretely reached behind you. "but what if i did"—your fingers snagged onto a crumpled ball of paper and you whipped your hand forward to throw it right at his dumb face—"this!"

without even a blink, sun reached up and caught the wad of paper before it could hit him. his white eyes crinkled into slim crescents. "even that was accounted for, friend!" he tossed the paper off to the side and it landed perfectly into a nearby garbage can. you resisted a groan.

"how could you even account for a stupid action like that?" you asked, huffing slightly out of your nose. talking to sun sure was frustrating sometimes.

there was a small pause. "because i know you, my dear," sun eventually said gently. his smile strained slightly at one side of his face. "and i know how much you like your silly questions."

you rolled your eyes, but didn't deign that with a response. instead, you pouted at him. "so you're just always computing situations and probabilities in your mind, then executing them?"

"right you are! we are capable of analyzing hundreds of thousands of scenarios in an instant, you know."

you mulled over this for a bit, thinking back to all your previous encounters with sun. he went back to tidying up, the silence of the daycare interrupted only by the jingle playing through the overhead speakers.

you weren't about to just let this go. you were nothing but persistent, it seemed. "what about when i've caught you off guard?" you questioned soon after. sun tilted his head again, but didn't turn around to face you this time when he responded.

"you have never caught me off guard, friend," he said, his voice oddly clipped.

your jaw dropped open at the blatant lie. you knew for sure, you'd said or done things he had not expected. "oh that's bullshit, i definitely have! it's always written all over your body language!"

"language," sun warned you, straightening up so he could toss some stray plastic balls back into the ball pit. he brushed off his hands of invisible dirt, then made his way closer to you. he stopped just before you, his shadow casting itself over your seated form on the desk. he booped your nose, a motion that made you cross your eyes to look at his finger. "you have not. i already told you; there is nothing i am unprepared for and nothing i cannot control."

"right," you said, unconvinced. a sudden thought popped in your head just as sun began to turn away, and you opened your mouth to voice it. "what about that thing you do with your hands?"

he stilled, halfway turned from you. "what thing?"

"you know, the—" you made a motion with your hands, flexing your fingers like you were grabbing something invisible. sun watched you from the corner of his eye, pupils of white on a backdrop of cloudy grey. "that thing. or when your rays twitch. are those voluntary?"

like clockwork, one of his rays twitched until it stopped with an audible click. he stared at you, unrelenting in his gaze. you felt wholly exposed underneath it. "...those are simply minor calibrations."

you gave him an unimpressed look. "dude, you're not fooling me. you even sound off right now, you're telling me you're doing it on purpose?"

"yes." he turned back around to face you and laced his fingers together. there was a smile on his face still, but it was frigid. static. "to simulate human behavior in accordance to the data i am being presented with."

you scoffed. "i'm not data, sun, i—"

he leaned down towards you, making you shift back slightly on the desk. a pit was starting to open at the bottom of your stomach. "oh but you are. what do you think i am processing right now if not the data that you consist of?"

your jaw tensed, and when you replied, your voice was stiff. "you know what? i'm going to pretend like you didn't just say that to my face." you glanced down at his hands, where his fingers were twitching against each other. you pointed at them. "is that voluntary too?"

his pupils darted down to look at his hands, then he swiftly tucked them behind his back. "yes, completely." his smile thinned, something lining his voice that you couldn't quite identify. "friend, we have been over this—"

"sun, why are you so—"

"what do you want me to say?!" he snapped out over your own voice, and it was so unexpected that your jaw snapped shut. "that i am not in control of certain actions? that the robot doesn't work like it is supposed to anymore?"

you opened your mouth to respond. but before you could utter a word, a cool palm covered the entirety of your lower face, silencing you. sun moved until his head was inches from your own, his pupils piercing through your own as the lights behind his head cast his face in a deep shadow.

"because i can assure you, friend," he said lowly, grip tightening on your jaw, "you do not want that."

[kaiser1ns]

#. SOUL EATER : RESONANCE

𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿/𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. takiishi chika, umemiya hajime, suo hayato, endo yamato, sakura haruka, kaji ren & itoshi sae, michael kaiser, nagi seishiro, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, isagi yoichi

fluff. death weapon meister academy's best students and the resonance between you.

happy belated halloween! 500-600 words per scenario so hope you enjoy these treats from yours truly ♡

MEISTER!CHARACTER x WEAPON!READER

ITOSHI SAE

“Sae, please talk to me!” You tug at his blouse, practically pleading. “I’m sorry, okay? It just happened, and you know I’m still learning to control my powers—”

Sae’s gaze finally drops to you, cold and his face holds none of the understanding you’d hoped for. “You were being incredibly stupid,” he says bluntly. “Dr. Stein wanted us out immediately after you went out of control. When I wield you, I need to know you won’t act on your own.”

It’s not like you tried to go rogue. You’ve been with him through countless missions, pushing yourselves, and trusting each other even in the roughest of battles. But this? You bite back, your irritation rising. “It wasn’t my fault! And Dr. Stein helped, didn’t he? It’s not like I was going to die or anything!”

Your voice comes out sharper than intended, the words fueled by a frustration you can’t hold back. He knows you better than anyone and knows how hard it is to keep in sync, to keep this connection as flawless as he demands. Yet here he is, acting like one mistake makes you a liability.

“Y/N…” Sae’s tone turns low, a warning. “You were unconscious for two weeks. You don’t remember what happened. Do you want me to tell you?” His words hit you hard, hurting you more than any wound you have had so far.

He’s always held high standards for you that sometimes feel impossible. As his weapon, he expects you to be perfect—flawless, untouchable. You feel the weight of his pride as a meister, his expectations towering over you. And there’s a bitter ache that tightens in your chest as you wonder if he sees you as unworthy now as if you’re a weak link in his chain.

You exhale slowly, feeling the pressure of his stare, every unspoken word bearing down on you. “I know, I know! But it’s not fair to think I’d instantly be able to control all of that power the second it woke up in me! I’m trying, Sae.”

He sighs, and for a moment, the hard line of his mouth softens just a little. He reaches out and flicks your forehead lightly. “For someone who’s going to be with me for life, you’re rather annoying,” he says, his tone lighter. The tension eases, and every time he flick your head you know you have made up. He smiles a little and you can’t hold back as you grin.

“You’re the best,” you say softly, finally stepping forward and pulling him into a quick, impulsive hug. You press a light kiss to his cheek, the gesture small but he is used to your affection and he takes everything you have to offer. He rolls his eyes, but there’s a ghost of a smile in the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, yeah. You should be the best, too.”

TAKIISHI CHIKA

The night sky is colored with stars, tiny silver shards that seem to tease you with promises of power and action—things your meister, Takiishi Chika, rarely lets you offer. You sit on the cold stone steps, arms draped across your knees, watching him fight without you, again. He’s a human inferno slicing through enemies like it’s nothing. For all his talent, he refuses to call on you, even when a single second of hesitation could mean his life. 

You sigh, looking back at the stars, counting them just as you count each missed opportunity he has to use you. If only Takiishi would stop being so... Takiishi. The battle finally ends with him victorious, but there’s no acknowledgment of your presence—no glance your way, no word of thanks for even being there. He simply turns and begins walking off, leaving you alone on the steps.

“Takiishi!” Typical. You groaned, launching to your feet and jogging to catch up with him. “You can’t just leave me like that! Hey, are you even liste—”

Finally stepping in front of him. He pauses, looking past you, expression cold and bored. “Move,” he says, his voice flat and utterly indifferent, flames still flickering across his body as if they, too, ignore you.

“I won’t move until you realize that this is teamwork,” you counter, setting your stance. “You can’t do everything alone.”

“I don’t care. You’re in my way. Move.”

The indifference is like a cut, sharper each time he says it. You clench your fists, feeling the familiar ache of unspent energy ripple through you. “Fine. If that’s what you want, then maybe I’ll ask Umemiya. He’ll be more than happy to partner with me.”

The second Umemiya’s name slips from your lips, Takiishi’s face barely shifts, but something flickers in his eyes, gone in a flash. You feel the weight of his stare, and it makes you feel powerful that you have your meister in such an unusual state. It’s almost enough to make you stay but you take a step back, ready to leave, but his hand reaches out, catching yours.

You turn, surprised to find a softness in his face, he looks… lost. Vulnerable. “What?” you ask, brow arching. He doesn’t answer, just tightens his grip slightly. He’s like a wolf trying to hide its wounds, but you’re not about to let him off that easily.

“Don’t go...” he finally mutters, eyes avoiding yours. For someone who doesn’t want to rely on you, he sure hates the thought of anyone else doing so.

“And you suddenly care when I mention switching partners?” you retort, your voice softer now, realizing just how much the idea unsettles him.

Before you can question him further, a monster lurches from the shadows behind you. Takiishi’s hand snaps to your shoulder, pulling you behind him protectively, his flames flaring up in a blaze that makes the night momentarily glow. His eyes meet yours, this time without words, but you know what he’s asking.

You sigh, offering him a small, resigned smile, and nod. Maybe he’s stubborn, cold, and reckless—but he’s your meister, and for better or worse, you’re his weapon. He needed you now. Transforming and letting your power flow into his hands, trusting him to wield you to your fullest.

You would always be the strongest weapon in his hands, because even if he’d never say it, you were his, and he was yours.

MICHAEL KAISER

His hand trails through your hair, fingers brushing against your scalp in slow, gentle strokes that lull you deeper into rest. The exhaustion of yesterday’s training took a lot of energy and it’s hard not to sink into the comfort of him beneath you. His chest rises and falls steadily under your cheek, matching the rhythm of your breaths. 

“You’re that tired?” His voice is soft, a whisper more to himself than to you, but you manage a faint mumble, not bothering to move. It earns a small chuckle from him, and he pulls you closer, his hand never stopping its movement through your hair. “Still, you did well today. Especially against Isagi. That was impressive,” he murmurs. There’s a hint of pride there because he is so proud of you. He never expected less from the best weapon and girl in the whole wide world.

“Mmm, otherwise you’d still be complaining about losing,” you mutter, words muffled against his skin. Your fingers trace lazy patterns across his tattooed shoulder, and you can feel him smile at that. The Academy, your training, the never-ending cycle of challenges and rivals—it’s not important now when the two of you relax in his room.

You barely notice as your breathing slows, and the last thing you feel is his hand brushing your hair from your face before sleep overtakes you completely.

But all too soon, the alarm rings, pulling you out of the warmth of his embrace. You groan, stretching as you peel yourself off his chest, and the soreness from yesterday’s battles immediately makes itself known. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you stumble to your feet as you walk over to where your uniform is laid out. You catch a glimpse of Kaiser stretching beside you, his hair tousled from sleep, his expression as groggy as yours. Yet somehow, he’s already flashing that smirk of his, the one he knows you can never fully ignore.

“You always look good when you’re about to kick ass,” he teases as you pull on your jacket, adjusting the fit around your shoulders. “Especially Isagi’s ass.” The playfulness in his eyes tells you he means it, though it’s more than just a compliment. It’s his pride, his own way of showing you how much he values you by his side. He can’t resist adding fuel to the fire, of course, but there’s this satisfaction of always being the winner, his appreciation for you and the way you fight.

“Shut up,” you mutter, rolling your eyes, but the smile slips onto your face before you can stop it. Kaiser grins, knowing he got through to you, knowing that he’s managed to start your day and remind you exactly why you’re here with him. As you finish dressing, he is in his uniform too, now wrapping his arm around your waist ready to go out and show you off, because as exhausting as it all is, being his partner—being the one he trusts, the one he praises and boost his ego—it’s something you wouldn’t trade for the world. 

UMEMIYA HAJIME

Everywhere you go, you hear whispers. First-years talking, pointing in your direction as if you’re something out of a storybook. "That's Y/N,” they’d say, praises dripping from their mouths, “Umemiya’s death scythe." There’s admiration there, and maybe even fear. After all, a weapon as powerful as you is rare, and with a laid-back meister like Umemiya, it seems like an odd pairing.

He’s known for his easygoing nature, approachable smile, and willingness to help anyone with anything… even if it’s absurd. To you, this sounds noble in theory. But in practice? It means moments like this one, where you’re looking down at your meister with your arms crossed, his hands clinging to your legs as he begs you to transform.

“Please, Y/N! I left my gardening tools in the shed back home, and we’re already here! Can’t you just… you know, turn into a scythe? Just for a few quick cuts!” You can only gaze down at him. A death scythe, being used to prune vegetables. The absurdity of it makes you grit your teeth. “Ume, I am not doing that! I’m a Death Scythe, not a hedge trimmer!” You try to shake him off, but he clings tighter, not one bit fazed by your irritation.

“Please, please, please!” he insists, hugging your legs harder. “I’ll cook for you, whatever you want! The most delicious meals, I promise!” He looks up at you, blue eyes pleading that would make a saint roll their eyes.

You narrow your eyes, pretending to consider. “Let’s see…” You tap a finger on your chin, drawing out the answer as long as possible just to make him sweat. “Eenie, meenie, miney… No!”

He sulks, face crumpling as he clutches at you dramatically. “Y/N! I thought you were my partner in crime! Partners always have each other’s backs, right?”

“Oh, don’t even try that on me,” you huff, crossing your arms tighter as you look away. “We are not partners in vegetable cutting.”

“Y/N!” he cries, the pouty lip and big eyes coming out, that was so immature for a strong leader and Meister, but that's just who he is.

“Umemiya Hajime,” you say, voice sharp and final, making him flinch. That full name is your last resort, and he knows it. “Go buy some vegetables from the market. I’m not wasting my energy on this.” Finally, with a sigh, he lets go and stands, running a hand sheepishly through his hair as he gives you a look of innocent exasperation.

“Fine, fine,” he mutters, deflated, but the spark never leaves him. “You win.” You’re about to turn away, feeling victorious, when he clears his throat, looking at you with a warning in his eye. “Just… to let you know, though, we’ve got to help an older couple with tree cutting tomorrow. They really need it.”

Your jaw drops and your eyes go wide. “What?”

He smiles, trying to look innocent. “Hey, they’re really nice! And they could use a little help from the strongest weapon-meister duo in the academy…”

You take a deep breath, feeling your energy drain just thinking about it. "You're unbelievable, Ume."

He raises both hands in surrender, laughing nervously as he grins, wide and bright, completely unaffected by the exasperation in your voice. It’s times like this when you wonder if you’re the meister and he’s the weapon. But one thing’s for sure: whether he’s charging into battle or begging for garden work, Umemiya Hajime is going to be the death of you. And if he pulls another stunt like this? He just might meet the wrong end of his own scythe.

NAGI SEISHIRO

“Sei, please!” you say, as you stand in front of the couch. “I’ll get you that new game if you accept this mission!”

Nagi Seishiro doesn’t even open his eyes. Instead, he gives a long, drawn-out sigh as he stretches his arms out behind his head, his tall frame too long to fit comfortably on the couch. His legs dangle over the edge, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Honestly, he seems to enjoy lounging around more than he enjoys actually doing his job as your meister.

It’s not that he can’t do the work. No, it’s the opposite. Nagi is ridiculously skilled—maybe even one of the best—but he’d much rather spend his time avoiding the responsibility altogether.

Missions? Too much hassle. Classes? Why bother. Training? He’s already good enough. Meanwhile, you’re trying your hardest to uphold your reputation, keep your grades up, and, most importantly, collect souls to be stronger. But none of that seems to matter to Nagi unless it somehow involves him not being bored during the mission or anything that has to do with moving.

He cracks one eye open, glancing at you with that familiar sleepy stare, “New game, hmm?” he mutters, finally giving you his attention.

You nod, your hands pressed together like you’re praying, “Yes! It's the new one from the series you like. With the best graphics and battles, you know the bes–”

“Hmm…” He rolls onto his side, considering if he should take up your offer. “Sounds like a lot of work.”

“Exactly,” you counter. “Just like this mission is going to be for us. But if we succeed, Lord Death said he’d give us a few days off, and… I’ll use that time to get you the game. You’ll have something new to play instead of replaying the same one a hundred times.”

The promise of the game seems more than appealing. He pauses, a thoughtful look crossing his face as he scratches his head. “But this mission’s rated hard, isn’t it? Ugh… fighting tough enemies is such a pain.”

“Yes, but it’s nothing we can’t handle. You’re a genius, remember?” you say with a smirk, hoping to stroke his ego just enough to sway him.

His options between taking the mission and going back to sleep. Finally, he sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. “Alright, fine. I’ll do it. But you better make sure you get me that game.”

You can’t believe that it took you all of your savings for a game, but you managed to pull him out of his comfort zone. As you gather your things and prepare for the mission, Nagi is already stretching out his arms, yawning. “Let’s make this quick, okay? I want to be back before I get too tired,” he says, already planning his next nap.

“Yeah, yeah, lazybones,” you mutter, walking out of your home, but even as you roll your eyes, you can’t help but smile. If tricking him with video games is what it takes to get your lazy meister in action, you’re more than willing to make that deal every time.

SUO HAYATO

“Come on, if you keep hiding things from me, I’ll keep seeking,” Suo’s calm, playful voice trails behind you as he walks with that unchanging smile, hands clasped leisurely behind his back. But you keep your gaze fixed forward, pretending you didn’t hear him, or at least, trying to. That relaxed, endlessly patient look of his was somehow just as frustrating as it was comforting, especially when you were feeling out of sorts. You know better that he is no stranger, he is your meister, and he knows when something is troubling you.

“I said I’m fine.” It comes out as a rude remark, and you immediately regret it. You stop, pressing your lips together in frustration, only to feel the softness in Suo’s eyes on you as he stops too. You turn, and though you try to fake your expression, the sadness in your gaze betrays you. He notices it all—of course, he does.

“Breathe in, then out,” he says softly, his hand settling on your shoulder. “I’m here for you.” His voice wraps around you like a safe embrace, and before you can stop yourself, the tears start falling. Your meister pulls you close without hesitation, his pristine white chang-shan serving as an unintended handkerchief.

You swallow, finding your voice as you mumble, “It’s just… Endo said I’m not worthy of being in Bofurin…” Your voice is muffled by his clothes, but he seems to catch every word. Each tear, each word, he hears and feels it. Your soul is connected to his so gets to experience your pain.

Suo’s hand moves gently over your back in soothing circles. “Ah, Endo,” he chuckles lightly, unfazed. “I should have guessed. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you, as usual. Remember how he did the same with Sakura?” He leans back slightly to meet your gaze, even if one eye is covered by an eyepatch. You blink, remembering that day. Sakura had been angry and lost after one of Endo’s comments about him. But he’d risen above it, and you had admired his strength then, just as Suo had assured him he was worthy. Now, it feels like he’s giving you the same gift of perspective.

“But what if… what if I’m not as good as him?” you ask, voice trembling. “What if he’s right?”

Suo’s expression softens, and his gentle smile stays. “If you weren’t capable, I wouldn’t have chosen you as my weapon,” he says simply, his words holding nothing but the truth. “Endo wants you to feel lesser because that’s his tactic, his way of keeping others from growing. But you don’t have to give him that power.”

You take a shaky breath, letting his words settle. The doubts lose some of their weight in the light of his quiet confidence in you.

“Besides,” he adds, his tone playful, “That guy lives to get under people’s skin. You don’t need to believe everything he says.” He winks, and you can’t help the small laugh that escapes. There he is again, always finding a way to make you smile.

“Now,” he continues, holding your hand in his, “How about a tea date instead? It’s been way too long since we’ve had one, and I could use an excuse to relax with my favorite and only girl.”

MEISTER!READER x WEAPON!CHARACTER

BACHIRA MEGURU

As Bachira’s laughter echoed down the school halls, you couldn’t help but smile, clinging tighter to his shoulders as he dashed ahead, but with him everything is more fun when you don't do things normally.

“Bachira, slow down! We’re gonna fall!” you said, more like screamed in his ear, your words nearly drowned out by his wild laughter. And as much as you enjoyed it, sometimes he went a little too far.

“Not a chance!” he shot back, barely avoiding a janitor’s cart as he took a sharp turn. You tighten your grip, feeling the wind rush past as the hallway blurred by. Finally, with a screech of his sneakers, he stopped just outside Lord Death’s office, grinning back at you. “Arrived at the destination! Kisses can be used as payment.” He tapped his cheek with a smug look, and you rolled your eyes but leaned in, giving him a quick peck.

“Not the best drive,” you muttered as you slid off his back, “wouldn’t recommend…but will see if I would do it again.”

Opening the door, you straightened up, slipping into professional mode, though it was hard with him right behind you, still buzzing with energy. In front of you, Lord Death stood by his massive glass mirror, wearing his jagged, dark robes and that cartoony skull mask that had a way of being both silly and terrifying.

“Lord Death, we’re here,” you said, trying to balance respect and calm as you addressed him. "What did you call us for?”

“Ah, Y/N and Bachira! My favorites! Please, please make yourselves comfortable,” he replied, gesturing toward a table absolutely loaded with cakes and sweets. Without a second thought, Bachira made a beeline for the table, already stuffing his face with something chocolatey as you tried to listen to Lord Death’s orders.

“Now, now,” Lord Death continued, “I need the two of you to retrieve this missing item. It’s a secret mission, so remember: not a word to anyone. It’s for your safety.”

You nodded, glancing over at Bachira, who now had chocolate smeared all over his face, looking like a kid who’d just discovered sugar. “Fo yu feef fus fu fo fere fand—” [So you need us to go there and–] he tried to say, his mouth completely full. But he was cute and was excused by such informality and Lord Death enjoyed how the young weapon was so himself.

You shook your head, amused, and finished the sentence for him, “And get the job done as fast as possible.”

“Pricelessly, yes!” Lord Death clapped his hands together. “You two make an excellent team!”

You shot Bachira a look and handed him a napkin, wiping away the chocolate smears with a grin. “If we’re going on a secret mission, we might as well look good.”

Your partner just laughed, grabbing you and hauling you back onto his shoulders, bright yellow eyes sparkling with his never ending playfulness. “Hold on tight, Y/N! Next stop: victory!”

“Not again!” you yelled, clinging to him as he left Lord Death’s office at full speed, rounding the first corner so sharply you almost slipped. But you knew he’d never actually let you fall.

Lord Death watched you both go, shaking his head with a smile. “Ah, youngsters. Full of life.” He knew there was no better duo for the job.

ENDO YAMATO

It was supposed to be a simple mission: slip in, take out the Kishin, collect the soul, and get out. No complications, no distractions. But when Endo was involved, even the simplest things became… well, complicated.

“Did I ever tell you about the time Takiishi used me in that fight against the ninja guy?” he whispers, just a little too loud. You shoot him a glare as you crouch low, scanning for any signs of the Kishin lurking in the shadows. But Endo, oblivious to the situation’s demands, just keeps going. “Seriously, it was incredible! The way he wielded me—I'm telling you, it was like magic! I mean, you’re amazing, obviously, but this guy? The two of you together would be unstoppable.”

Your patience was wearing thin, and it was showing. You glanced over your shoulder, whispering in a low, scolding tone, “Endo, would you shut up for once? We’re supposed to be done with this by now.”

He just smirked, leaning against the cold stone wall as though this was a casual night out instead of a mission. “Aw, come on, doll. What’s the rush? We’ve got all night to take down one little Kishin." watching you with those eyes that showed nothing good, "Besides, don’t you think you need to loosen up a bit? You’re always trying to be ‘Miss Perfect.’ But you’re already the best, hands down.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. There’s no way you’re letting his endless banter derail the mission. You extend your hand. He takes it with a lazy smile, intertwining your fingers just a little too slowly. “Transform, now,” you whisper, trying to ignore the warmth of his hand in yours and the playfulness in his eye.

Just then, you hear footsteps, a shuffle in the darkness. Instinctively, your grip tightens, and Endo shifts, his form glimmering as he becomes a sleek, polished pistol in your hand. The perfect weapon for one clean shot.

“Right on target, or I’m putting you in detention,” you mutter, aiming carefully. A soft chuckle echoes from the weapon in your hand.

“Only if you’re the one giving it to me,” he teases, his voice vibrating through your body.

You don’t bother responding, steadying your aim. Pulling the trigger, the shot resonates in the silence as the Kishin collapses. A faint smoke drifts from the barrel as Endo shifts back, grinning as he strides over to collect the soul—a glistening blue orb hovering above the remains. He snatches it with satisfaction, letting it vanish into his mouth as this was his dinner, but he is always ready for dessert.

You’re already turning to leave when he catches up, nudging your shoulder. “So, now that we’re done here, think we can swing by the party? Takiishi will be there, and—”

His words trail off when he catches your unimpressed look. But as always, he doesn’t give up. Instead, he steps closer, tilting your chin up with his tattooed fingers. “Or maybe,” he murmurs, his voice low, “I could show you a little more of what I can do. Just the two of us.”

You smirk, catching his hand and intertwining your fingers as you start leading the way back to the academy. “You’d better make it worth my while, then.”

He chuckles, that lazy, cocky sound trailing after you. “Oh, you know I will, doll. Anything for you.”

ITOSHI RIN

You’d been searching for him all day, irritated, annoyed but not surprised. Why does he have to pick a fight with Isagi again? Poor guy probably didn’t even do anything this time, just breathing and existing. But Rin’s temper? It seems to have a strong trigger, and you are fully prepared to be the one to finally make it go off on him.

You scanned the room, spotting your friends who gave you sympathetic glances, some even knew what was coming. When you finally spot Rin sitting at his desk in class, like he doesn't care about anything in the world, he's just there.

Without a second thought, you shove the classroom door open, and it bangs against the wall with a force that pulls every head in your direction. Even Dr. Stein, who usually comments on such disturbances with some dry remark, raises his eyebrow at you, his mouth opening. But one sharp look from you shuts him up. He knows better.

“Itoshi Rin. Out, now.” Your voice is hard as steel, nothing like the sweet tone you save for casual days, when you’re both training, laughing, maybe even getting along for once. But today, this? This is all business, and everyone knows that if you’re mad enough to pull him out of class, he’s in trouble.

Rin just rolls his eyes and scoffs, pushing himself up from his chair and sauntering to the door. You let the door close behind you with a polite, “Excuse us, Doctor,” as you exit. Stein just sighs, casting a pitying look at Rin’s empty chair.

Behind you, someone whispered, “Think she’s gonna be the first meister in centuries to kill her weapon?”

Dr. Stein gave an unbothered shrug. “I’d like to see the body afterward, for... scientific purposes.”

Outside the classroom, you stop, crossing your arms and tapping your foot. Rin is slumping against the wall, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he stares at you, his expression completely unbothered. He seems to be waiting for you to say something, but you wait for him, pressuring him to do something.

“What do you want?” he finally mutters, almost as if he’s bored.

“What I want,” you begin, warning him with that tone, “is for you to stop with this ‘I’m going to kill Isagi’ nonsense.” You can’t keep the anger out of your voice, but you do try to stay calm and controlled. He needs to understand that you are serious without having to scream it in his face. “Rin, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be the best. But you know as well as I do, we don’t need to crush everyone else to prove that. Not him, at least.”

He’s staring at you, but it’s clear he’s listening to you, but he doesn't hear. He finally scoffs, mumbling, turning his head in the opposite direction to avoid you. “As if.” What he hated the most was to be told what to do.

You take a step closer, pressing a finger to his chest. “Listen, I don’t have all day to deal with this. I don’t care if you have a grudge or if he has better luck sometimes. You’re my weapon. And that means you follow my orders.”

Rin’s eyes flash, and he grabs your wrist, his grip firm as he leans down just enough to be intimidating. “I do whatever I want.” You yank him closer by the shirt, unflinching. “And I can crush your soul if you ever cross that line with me again. So don’t forget, Rin—who’s the one with the control here?”

For once, his blunt expression falters. You’re not sure if he’s backing down…or if he’s just considering something else. Either way, he releases your wrist, mumbling under his breath, but for now, he’s been put in his place.

SAKURA HARUKA

"Can't you run faster?" As you leap from one rooftop to the next, Sakura's voice echoes in your head, scythe held tightly in your grip. To achieve his ultimate form as a Death Weapon Scythe, Sakura needed to consume the soul of a witch, and tonight, you had one within your sight. “Shut up! I'm trying my best here," you snap back, spinning the weapon instinctively to keep your balance. His groan vibrates through your hands as he starts to feel dizzy.

"Huh?! This is your best?" he taunts, irritated by your fighting, more like defending yourself. Your patience finally snaps, and you grind to a halt, releasing his weapon form as he transforms back to his human shape beside you. His expression is just as fiery as yours, brows knitted, eyes blazing. His sharper-than-normal teeth peek out in frustration.

"Sakura, stop! I’m fed up with your attitude," you say, barely keeping the anger out of your voice. He stares back at you, unyielding. "I'm your weapon for a reason, remember? Because you’re supposed to be one of the strongest Meisters out there. Don’t make me regret my choice of picking you."

The tension between you crackles, the adrenaline and frustration of the hunt mingling into something that even Lord Death won’t be able to stop, as he tried so many times to teach you to be one with your partner. But before you can respond, a voice interrupts from the shadows, lilting and playful, just what you need right now.

"My little pumpkins... I’m so sorry to interrupt," the witch croons, hovering just above you in the sky. Her glittering eyes shine in the moonlight, a smirk playing across her lips. "Are we going to do this tonight, or should I come back another day?"

The two of you whirl on her in perfect unison, “Shut up!” you shout, voices harmonizing as she pouts, clutching her hands to her chest in mock hurt. But you’re too caught up in the moment to notice the glint of magic in her fingers. Before you realize it, she’s already begun her spell. A sudden pulse of energy knocks Sakura against you, making you stumble on the edge of the rooftop.

You feel yourself losing your balance as the ground rushes up toward you, but Sakura’s arms find their way around you, his grip tight in fear of not letting you go. Instinctively, you clutch him back, bracing for a rough landing.

But instead of cold pavement, you crash into something soft and oddly bouncy, breaking your fall with an unexpected jolt. You open your eyes to find yourselves surrounded by squishy pumpkins conjured by the witch’s magic. You’re still tangled up with Sakura, his arms wrapped around you protectively, as he is more concerned now than angry. Your safety was his number one priority, even if you had arguments most of the time you had missions.

"Such cuties you two are!" the witch giggles, waving her fingers at you like she’s saying goodbye. “Well then, until next time!”

And with that, she vanishes, and your weapon mutters something under his breath, finally letting go of you as he stands up, brushing off imaginary dust with an embarrassed frown. You can’t help but smile at him, as he helps you stand up, handing his jacket to you as he walks forward, hands in his pockets as he sneezes and little air hearts appear around him.

"Soul resonance, huh?" you say knowing this won’t be the last time you’re stuck like this together.

ISAGI YOICHI

It was training time, the kind where you and your weapon partner go head-to-head against another meister and weapon pair. But this wasn’t just any opponent; this was Michael Kaiser, who had a habit of voicing his unwanted opinion about your partnership with Isagi. And, of course, Isagi chose him. His determination to take on Kaiser was fierce, and despite your reservations, you went along with it.

Running side by side, Isagi transformed into a set of shurikens, sharp and deadly, perfect for an offensive strike. You launched forward with a powerful kick, targeting Kaiser directly. He countered quickly, his weapon Ness—perfect, yet irritatingly well-matched partner—swinging to meet you.

"A strong meister like you using him? That’s so low of you, meine Prinzessin,” Kaiser taunted as he dodged your kicks, punches, and Isagi’s whirling shuriken form. His smirk was only growing wider as he grazed your defenses. Every time he opened his mouth, his mocking words were something you wish you could just cut with your weapon.

“Shut up, you stupid Emperor,” you spat, gripping Isagi as he shifted into his katana form, readying for another attempt to close in on Kaiser. You sliced left and right, and your movements were calculated, though the Emperor evaded most of your attacks. The best you managed was a slight tear on his shirt—a minor victory, though not satisfying enough.

“A girl like you, so strong, settling for a weapon like him?” His voice dripped with disgust as he angled Ness, testing your patience. “You deserve more than someone who thinks life’s a puzzle to solve. So much more. It’s honestly… cute, watching you struggle.”

It took everything not to let his words worm into your mind. You knew he was trying to rile you up until you’d snap and lose control. He wanted you to get reckless, to expose a weakness he could exploit. You clenched your fists, steadying yourself. You weren’t going to let him get the satisfaction.

“Isagi, I swear, I’m going to kill you for picking him instead of Barou,” you muttered through gritted teeth, tossing a glance at Isagi mid-battle. He chuckled nervously, though he knew just as well that this rivalry ran deep.

You darted forward, throwing Isagi in his shuriken form in a high arc behind Kaiser, who barely gave it a glance, his eyes pinned on you as you closed in. The fool thought you’d just thrown Isagi away.

“Oh, finally giving up and throwing out the trash?” Kaiser sneered, that self-satisfied smirk still painted across his face.

You mirrored his smirk, feeling the satisfaction bubble up as you locked eyes. “Quite the opposite. I’m taking it down.”

In a flash, Isagi shifted mid-air, transforming back into his human form just in time to land on Kaiser from behind, knocking him to the ground. Before Kaiser could react, you pressed a foot to his chest, holding him down firmly. Isagi stood beside you, eyes shining as he looked down at Kaiser with that victorious smirk.

“Who’s unworthy now, Emperor?” Isagi’s voice was laced with mockery, enjoying every second of the results. Kaiser, winded but not defeated, glared up at you. But even he couldn’t deny that for once, he’d been outmatched.

KAJI REN

You're patrolling the streets of Death City, trying to find the Kishin that has been disturbing the peace for a few days now. Beside you, Kaji Ren walks, hands in his hoodie pockets, a lollipop perched between his lips as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Headphones cradling his ears, pulsing with the beats of a very familiar song. Just as you’re about to comment on his distracted state, he freezes, eyes narrowing as he spots something moving in the shadows.

Without thinking twice, you reach out, snatching both his lollipop and his headphones when he barely has time to register the theft before you’ve popped the lollipop into your mouth, its sugary taste spreading across your tongue. Kaji’s eyes widen, and for a second he looks stunned, ready to make a witty remark but you’re already moving, sliding the headphones over your ears, the music from your shared playlist flooding your senses, pumping up your adrenaline.

“You—!” he starts, but he’s already transforming, his body twisting in a flash of light until the cold steel of his scythe form lands firmly in your grasp.

The music pulses through you and the beat matches your footsteps as you lunge toward the Kishin. With Kaji in your hand, you dance around the creature, slicing it as you move to the rhythm. You could feel his irritation vibrating through his blade form, and if he’d been human, you’d bet he’d be yelling, but his words are muffled by the blasting music in your ears.

“Y/N, watch ou—” You grin to yourself, knowing you don’t need the warning. You leap high, spinning mid-air, and bring Kaji down killing the Kishin with a powerful strike. It vanishes quickly, leaving only its blue soul glowing in the aftermath.

Landing gracefully, nodding your head to the rhythm as you pull off the headphones and let Kaji return to his human form. His mouth opens, clearly ready to throw an insult, but before he can get a single word out, you press the headphones back into his hands with a nonchalant smile.

“Yes, yes. Here you go. Return what I’ve taken,” you say, casually, popping the lollipop back into your mouth. “But I’m keeping this,” you add, twirling the sweet between your teeth. “It’s just too good to give up.”

“You won’t even he—” His protest dies as you press a finger to his lips, your teasing smile flashing as you look up at him, “Shhh, Ren. You’re so cute when you’re mad, you know that?” The faintest hint of a blush creeps into his cheeks, his brows knitting together, making him look even more annoyed. You always cut him off, you didn't listen to him and he was mad, but at the same time, he was too enraged to say anything. Turning away, looking forward to your next task—if only to tease him more.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

WBK. Weapon!Togame, Weapon!Hiragi, Meister!Nirei, Meister!Choji, Meister!Kiryu, Weapon!Suzuri

BLLK. Meister!Karasu, Meister!Barou, Weapon!Reo, Weapon!Otoya, Weapon!Shidou, Meister!Aiku

taglist :: @kiurona @nyxypoo @17020 @stunies @maruflix @ryescapades @yoru-exe @heartkaji @seneon @choccorin @littleplantfreak @meidiary

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[voidcat]

I think the issue (on my part) lies in the fact that my brain doesn’t register online stuff as real until certain thresholds

[rueclfer]

ooooo reader dragging bf tomura to a Halloween party actually 😈

hiii sorry i usually like to add lil more plot to these things but brain not braining rn so enjoy this lil scenario type thing <3

(written under the cut)

homebody // tomura shigaraki

"i wanna go home." he mumbles into your neck as your hands run up and down his back. "people are looking at me weird."

you release a long exhale, your fingers finding their way under his mask and into the knotted locks of hair pressed against the nape of his neck.

"who? i'll kill them." you coo. "show them you're all mine."

"hot. would be even hotter if i could hear that again in private." he breathes out a nervous chuckle.

you couldn't blame him for the constant push and pull of trying to socialize with a bunch of drunkards. his own friend group was sometimes too much for him, and you knew if he could have it his way, you'd be intertwined with each other on the couch running through bad horror movies and indulging in the candy bucket that you swore would be reserved for the trick-or-treaters.

"don't piss me off." you whisper against his ear, pressing a kiss against his masked jaw. "take a shot with me. it'll make you feel better."

tomura stands up straight, meeting your eyes with his own bloodshot ones from the build up of multiple sleepless nights.

"you don't need to drink anymore." he groans. "your demons are already starting to come out."

"is that a problem?"

"yes." he deadpans. "if you start crying or embarrassing me, i'm leaving you here."

a lie.

you press your lips together into a tight line, leaving your conversation to falter into a silent staring contest between you two.

tomura thought for a moment. maybe if you did drink a little over your capacity, it'd be easier to convince you to go home. it could really only go one of two ways- you'd be so inebriated, you'd let him throw you over his shoulder and go on your merry way, or you'd be so inebriated, you'd really throw a fit and do anything to not leave this dingy apartment.

his thumb came up to brush across your bitten, swollen bottom lip. it was almost impossible to say no to you when you looked at him with those eyes. he could be as mean and cold as he'd like, but when you're standing here pressed against him with that stupid fake blood splattered across your face, and glitter on your cheekbones, he was ready to crumble.

thank god for the mask.

"shots it is." he sighs, heartbeat speeding up at the sight of your growing wicked smile.

"good boy." you slap a hand against his chest, pushing past him towards the kitchen counter lined with bottles of liquor.

"right. before i forget." you begin.

you turn back to tomura, pressing his back against the wall as you reach up and pull his mask over the bridge of his nose. his eyes widen and breath stifles for a moment as you lean up and press your lips against his.

"as promised." you mutter

it was a quick kiss, lingering for only a second before you turned back on your heels, leaving his lips parted, mask undone, and face hot.