#Perplexing Ruins

[radiantmorningstar]

The Chronicle of Sirius and Prin 10: Dark Refuge, Part 1

Year 298 AC of the Bat, Fireday, 12th of the Month of Dark, Full Moon

Kal-Arath. Daytime.

Kerwin crosses the plains south of Kor Molen on his way to investigate the necromancer’s tower, seeking leads on where to find Sirius and Prin. He sights six barbarian riders at a distance, who seem to be charging him, but they ride past! What Kerwin didn’t see was a herd of strangely mutated gutterlags that had immediately emerged over a tor behind him. Apparently, the barbarians were hunting them or they were hunting the barbarians . . . A brutal fight ensues and, in the chaos, Kerwin manages to run off the dirt road and into the rolling hills to the west.

He runs into the hills, skirting tors and picking his way through ravines, until he comes upon the bleached skeleton of a giant at sundown. Kerwin makes camp under the bones, realizing that this is the safest spot available in these oddly violent, strange grasslands.

Something is mutating the wildlife. Gutterlags with the bodies of spiders were a horrifying sight. Things like that don’t occur spontaneously in nature. At least, not on rolling grasslands. But Kerwin also has to admit that anything is possible in Kal-Arath. Most of this land is uncharted and there is little in the lore books on its features, flora, and fauna.

[juddgeeksout]

Old-School Essentials: 11-13 The Gambler, the Owlbear and the Pilgrim

NPC's, Retainers, Rival Adventurers, Pre-Made PC's...

Art in these NPC cards and the subject dividers are by Perplexing Ruins. PDF below. What the eff, Judd? Those are owlbear stats and not a starting character! You could have Owlbear Dan not gain any XP until they get back into a non-owlbear body or you could make an Owlbear class. PDF ose-11-to-13-2Download I could see these folks grabbing drinks with the Hirelings from Trophy Gold if you…

[doverstar]

they brought back the midnight entity, britney spears's toxic, and inserted a hand-drawn cartoon character into one of the episodes as our alien of the week. cannot decide what to think of the current doctor who from afar, but sometimes it feels like I dreamed it

[cellarspider]

6/30 The road to hell

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⛬

We return to the movie equivalent of an incompletely-assembled Ikea PAX / BERGSBO wardrobe surrounded by chips of particle board and eight thousand extra screws, Prometheus.

If that analogy made sense to anybody, congratulations! You too are succumbing to The Madness.

Content warnings for terrible archaeology, terrible chemistry, and blunt force trauma to the audience with a piece of exposition.

Increasingly extensive alt-text ramblings include the logistics of securing items in moving craft, linguistics, atmospheric science, colorblind-friendly diagram design, swearing about orology, and cursing the crew for their fictional crimes against archaeology.

Many on Tumblr are familiar with Chekhov’s Gun, a piece of writing advice that calls for economy of storytelling: if you mention a loaded gun in your story, it should go off at some point. Sergius Shchukin phrased it this way: “Remove everything that has no relevance to the story. If you say in the first act that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third act it absolutely must go off. If it's not going to be fired, it shouldn't be hanging there." 

So Prometheus takes the rifle down off the wall and smashes you over the head with it, just to make sure you saw it.

CH: “Wow, nice place.” D: “It's actually a separate module with its own self-contained life support. Air, food. Anything Miss Vickers would need to survive a hostile environment.” CH: “Okay, so she lives on a lifeboat.” MV: “Yes. I do. I like to minimize risk.”

Gee. I wonder if Vickers’ lifeboat living quarters will become relevant later.

Then, Chekhov’s rifle hits us with its next flurry of blows.

“Charlie, look. It's a Pauling Med-Pod. They only made a dozen of these.”

Gee. I wonder if the Pauling Med-Pod–-yes of course it’s going to be relevant later

You want a movie where a literal Chekhov’s gun gets fired off, along with Chekov’s crossword puzzle, Chekov’s ketchup packet, Chekhov’s swan, and Chekhov’s farmer’s mum, Chekhov’s everything all weaving back together again in a beautiful symphony of hilarious violence? Watch Hot Fuzz! Do it! Just watch Hot Fuzz! Not Prometheus!

I have said it before and I say it now, this movie is TERRIBLE at providing the audience with plot-relevant information. It hits you like head trauma. It bellows at you like Hans Zimmer has his entire orchestra hiding behind your chair, ready to let loose with an Inception Noise.

Vickers is here to make David mix drinks and to be a Corpo Ice Queen who demands that the team not make any direct contact with any alien life they find while they’re here. She doesn’t think they will, though. She thinks Weyland was delusional. But she’s the one in charge of the company money, so she’s the boss here.

Which begs the question of why she’s here at all, rather than back on Earth. This is actually a plot point, but because it’s not explicitly called out like the LIFEBOAT with the PAULING MED-POD, and everyone else has acted like loons anyway, it does not stand out. It just seems like another dollop of irrational behavior in the unpalatable stew of these characters.

However, Vicker’s demand that no direct contact be made? Very sensible! In fact, this was the point in the movie where I distinctly remember thinking in the theater “wait, they don’t have a first contact protocol already?” 

Like, Vickers doesn’t think that anything’s going to happen, but there’s enough of a chance that she’s giving orders not to engage. The sum total of their formal first contact attempt was yeeting a cultural message packet at the planet while in-transit to see if they got any response. The only one who appears to have been preparing was David–he basically spent the last two years learning comparative linguistics, with the aim of acting as a translator, should they get that far. That’s a sound choice, though its actual implementation is going to leave me incensed later.

But that still doesn’t answer the question of what they’re planning to do. Weyland certainly believed that they were going to meet aliens here. He’s arrogant enough to have demanded this whole project happen, and he didn’t have anything to say about what should be said if they made contact without him? 

This is, possibly, a plot point. But everything else that happens around this in the next five minutes is pure, howling madness.

Because they’re immediately descending into the atmosphere of this alien world.

This is too fast. In Alien, they landed on-planet to check out a possible distress signal, and it was a goddamn pain in their collective ass that they were only doing out of legal responsibility. In Aliens, they were a bunch of hopped-up marines ready to go shoot bugs. 

These are, again, scientists. The team leads are archaeologists! Aerial archaeology is a thriving field today that’s only going to get more useful as technology improves! There is no sense that they’ve done any scans, they don’t even know what the atmosphere is made out of, something we, right now, can already determine about exoplanets. Really! We can! 

We are explicitly told, in fact, that all this is happening within the same day as everyone waking up. The events of this movie appear to happen over two days, maybe three at the max.

And now, Spider yells at cloud. Or rather, the atmosphere.

The movie claims that if you spend two minutes on the surface without an oxygen supply, you’re dead. Why? Atmospheric CO₂ is over 3%.

Now, 3% CO₂ is not a fun time, and you will definitely experience weird physical and cognitive effects. But if you hang out in 3-5% CO₂, you’re going to be pretty okay for anywhere from four hours to over a month. 

What I've heard consistently is speculation that the movie meant carbon monoxide levels at 3%, which, yeah, that'll kill ya. In fact 2-3 breaths of 1.28% CO makes people pass out and die within under three minutes. 0.01% CO is enough to result in headaches and memory problems, as one redditor demonstrated to the internet back in 2015. 

But no. For whatever reason, the movie script says “CO₂”. Consistently.

And now, we get to the bit that had me screeching under my breath in the theater. Most people who saw Prometheus lost their sympathy for the human characters about 5-20 minutes after this point. I was ahead of the curve. I hated these characters before it was cool. Because they see a structure. They see what looks like roads.

Holloway, who I remind you all, claims to be an archaeologist, demands they set the ship down on one of those roads.

Let me tell you all a story. A few years before this movie first blighted me, I signed up for an archaeological field course. The university offering it didn’t have a dig permit lined up for the year I went, but their campus was in an area that had seen continuous human habitation for at least 15,000 years. They scouted out a bit of lawn, we cut the turf, and started digging. 

A week or two into the dig, we realized that the top layers were probably modern infill, dirt that had been trucked in from somewhere and completely jumbled. We started hacking away at it with mattocks to get down to the actual archaeology, which was delayed by a day or two when I struck 1940s asphalt. 

Like, literally struck it with my mattock. It felt like biting down on aluminum foil, but spread out over my hands to my shoulders. The professors rented a small mechanical digger to tear up the old car park, and also some of the plywood on the sides of our trench by accident. I have never seen a bunch of professors so gleeful about being turned loose on heavy machinery.

But finally, we got to what we were there for. A bunch of 13th century houses, and a Roman road.

I remember we made sure there was photo documentation that captured every fucking pebble on the medieval surface of that road, before we dug in. We were encouraged to sketch it, too. We took precise GPS coordinates of where the edge of the road started. We sifted through the road surface as we dug it up, finding dozens of tiny artifacts, because centuries of people had tossed little bits of trash onto the road, lost things out of their pockets and pouches, all the random little events that might happen on a stretch of road two minutes' walk from the parish church. 

I remember one student found the metal tag off of a horse’s bridle, that would’ve been used to identify it with its owner’s mark. Another found an 800 year old silver coin, tarnished on one side and perfectly, shiningly pristine on the other. It was beautiful.

And over and over, we were told: “A road is a find.” A road itself is history. A road is a place shaped by human hands, where humans have lived their lives. We can learn a lot from roads.

And that was what I was whispering at the screen in the theater, increasingly incensed. “A road is a find. A road is a find. A road is a find!!”

I was ready to reach through the screen and strangle that motherfucker Holloway from this moment on. The movie had lost me fully. Not because of this moment in isolation–if the rest of it had been consistently competent, I would have sighed and done my best to hold onto suspension of disbelief. But the drip feed of problem after problem had taken me from open and interested in the movie to actively spiteful in about 30 minutes or less.

So, fine. The movie seemed determined to make me watch a bunch of unprepared morons stumble to their deaths. Usually, this sort of movie doesn’t appeal to me. I don’t find much use for the kind of movie where you’re supposed to feel antipathy toward the main cast, as a free pass to watch them suffer. It’s why I still haven’t seen Alien Covenant. But I had been unexpectedly ambushed by just such a movie, and I was rooting for whatever horrors awaited them.

⛬

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⛬

Citations for alt text rambling:

1. https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/bane-vs-pink-guy--2

2. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chinese_bronze_inscriptions 

3. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cumulonimbus_incus 

4. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/K%C3%A1rm%C3%A1n_line

5. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Everest

6. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Olympus_Mons

[luv-again]

okay but lowk I NEED to know why ppl prefer writing sonic fics based in station square as opposed to central city

I've seen the vast majority of people lean the station square way and having both now played sa1 AND games set in central city... I just gotta know: why the overwhelming bias ? I am so so curious actually

[perplexed-confusion]

I really picked the best episode to stay up and watch

[zhongli-lover-69]

hey girl is the room flooding or are you just happy to see me

[screampied]

❛ PHEREMOANED ?! ❜ t. fushiguro

☆ sum. after three long years in the slammer, toji returns home to you—his pretty sweet fiancé. to surprise him, you decided to spray on your new expensive pheromone perfume. was it the best idea? probably not. you wanted to tease him, not make him feral.

warnings. fem! reader, ex-convict toji, pwp, feral toji, scent kink, unprotected, manhandling, size kink, cúnnilingus (he eats it from the back), toji has a tongue piercing, brēeding, marathon séx, choking, spít, impact play, hair pulling, overstim, tummy bulges, overstim.

wc. 6.2k

toji fushiguro never knew how to stay out of trouble—he had a temper and that wasn’t really a surprise.

he’s lucky he got released early on good behavior. three years, one thousand and ninety-five days, twenty six thousand hours and thirty six months spent apart from him. regardless though, you were patient—making sure to visit him during visiting hours and all. but the day he gets released, you get an idea. scrolling online, you read an article about pheromone perfume and skimmed across some pretty eye-catching stories. you ordered it about two weeks prior, waiting for his release to actually try it. spritzing a few good sprays on yourself, you wait by the front door where one of his friends, presumably shiu was dropping him off at.

creaaaak, the wooden door opens and there stands toji. he’s still in his orange jumpsuit, tresses of shaggy sable bangs brushing down his eyes, briefly occluding his vision. “hey, girl,” he gruffs, catching you in his arms once you tackle him into a hug. his big big arms cage you in before he kisses the top of your head. “missed y-”

toji pauses, and you let off a gasp once he abruptly digs his face inside the crook of your neck. “hn. . new perfume, baby?” good, so it really does work. his scarred hands rest toward your hips before he starts to sniff all down your neck, groaning against your skin.

“y- yeah,” you stammer, feeling his hands grip against your blouse. “you like? it was on sale.”

“i love it but it’s damn strong,” he murmurs, and out of nowhere—he lifts you up, tossing you over his shoulder. a giggle nearly leaves from your lips as he starts to trod toward the bedroom, loud boots clanking against the marble-made floor. “did you spray it between your legs too? fuck, you’re just asking to be ruined tonight, baby.”

well shit.

everything happens so fast,

one second you’re hugging your fiancé who just got released from prison and the next, he’s tossing you on the bed, making you spread your legs.

you’ve seen a lot of different faces of toji but this, this was entirely new. he’s got the type of look in his eyes where he wants something and he won’t hesitate to take it . . even if that something is you.

seeing you like this, sprawled all out on the bed with that cute perplexed expression of yours, fuck.

three years. three years without any kinds of physical contact he had to endure, and with the addition of your new pheromone perfume. perhaps you had some kind of death wish.

“spread ‘em,” he huffs, clicking his tongue. toji’s eyes were already hooded and half-lidded. he’s panting already and he’s not even looking at you.

just from staring between your legs, he could almost taste you on his tongue - his tastebuds were already salivating at the carnal thought. toji’s verdant dim eyes stare straight between your legs, right near the very crevices. “wait, no,” and you gasp again once he flips you over, making you flop down on your chest. “ass up baby. i don’t wanna look at you right now. wanna look at her.”

his hands were so hot, quite literally.

his bare palms had all kinds of scars painted near the centers with such rough texture as he feels against your ass. you try to suppress an incoming moan as your back willingly arches forward. your cheek’s being smushed against the silky red cover of your own pillow before he leans in.

toji’s wetly kisses against your ass cheek, nearly ripping your skirt in two. “mhm,” he groans, and even now, he’s still smelling you. your legs start to shake and quiver once he’s smelling every part of your thighs. toji drags his nose up and down, he’s making sure he can take in all of your perfume, he even licks down your legs. you’ve seen him feral before but never like this. his palm continues to rub against your skin before the button tip of his nose reaches toward your panties. “fuck, don’t know how much i missed you, princess.”

“t- toji,” you whine through gritted teeth, and he’s flicking his tongue against the lace pad of your panties. your smell, it was so good - he just couldn’t get enough.

it scratched a obscene itch in his brain, making him so aroused—so much so that you weren’t helping the strain in his jumpsuit sweats at all. toji’s boner was almost painful, it prods against the thin fabric of his jumpsuit and your scent only made his throbbing so much worse.

his hair tickles against the corners of your thighs as you feel his warm breath ghost against your sopping entrance. oh, right. you were kind of sort of a bit drenched—you had played with yourself out of pure boredom. you failed to make yourself finish but he didn’t have to know that.

toji noticed right away and he raises a brow, two pinching fingers pulling your panties to the side. “she’s soaked,” he utters in a low voice—he sounds almost offended. “wonder why that is.”

you let off a broken moan once he peels your panties to the side with just his teeth, dragging a fat swollen thumb right down your drooling slit. “fuckk, smell so good baby but i bet you taste even better.”

and within seconds, his tongue delves right between your legs. once he starts—there’s no prying him off. whenever it was pussy involved, toji was an animal.

he could eat you out for hours, no breaks, not caring at all if his jaw locks and tightens. he ate you out as if it wants some sort of competition, and he’d always get a gold medal. every single time. .

you’re facing the opposite way while he’s eating you from behind, two open palms squeezing against both soft cheeks of your ass. the tiny ball of his piercing gradually flicks against your clit and you nearly let off a shriek. the stimulation has you gasping for air and it felt so good—you’ve never felt more sensitive.

toji spreads your ass wider, dipping his lengthy wet tongue in and out before spitting down your entrance. “ptf,” and it’s a glossy slimy trail that dribbles straight down the cracked slope of your ass before oozing near your puffy pussy. it’s so sloppy, he laps it right up before spitting on it again and again.

toji hasn’t tasted you in forever, three years felt like forever and he wanted to make sure he’d make up for lost time - with his tongue.

“mhm, keep squirmin’ doll, see where it gets ya,” he’d gruff in a husky tone, feeling your entire body starting to writhe and shudder all from his mouth.

despite his jaw already locking—his face was flushed and tears of sweat sprayed against his forehead. even still, the dark haired man showed no signs of fatigue. you just tasted so sweet, and your loud pheromonal smell made things worse.

you slouch back against the cushioned mattress, peering behind you to see him sloppily give your pulsating cunt three second slurps. fuck, his tongue. it was so long.

you felt every extending inch of it trace and curl all throughout the swollen walls of your pussy. he had to make sure your pretty pussy remembered who it belonged to. his rosy pink tip swirls around and around, side to side, up and down—he makes it toy in every witch direction. toji then starts to merrily spell out the thirteen notorious letters of his name over and over.

t - o - j - i - f - u - s - h - i - g - u - r - o.

once his tongue curls in such a slick spiraling manner, your tummy heaves once he spells out the letter ‘s’ with his tongue. it twirls from up to down, and he even grumbles out the letters under his breath in that low, raspy voice.

two big hands cling onto your rickety thighs before he spanks your ass once he sees you trying to reach down between your thighs to touch yourself. “watch it, little girl,” he snarls, the sudden pitchy tone in his rough voice making you throb right on his tongue. he’s practically making out with your cunt now, french kissing your slobbering entrance. toji’s just casually nose deep, taking every few seconds to smell against your clit. “she’s mine.”

“tojiiii—” you moan, continuing to rock your unsteady hips back into his face. toji’s patchy stubble rubs all over against your skin until it’s just profusely dripping from your slick juices.

the scar that runs down the right side of his lip smears against you also. it feels so rough as it scraps against your folds. your pussy twitches as he starts to drag his face back and forth against your slick and you gasp once his tongue slides further up.

up, up, up until it reaches there.

“ah, now what do we got ourselves here,” he whispers, and you moan once he plugs a fat thumb against your puckering hole.

your teeth dig into the cottony fluff of the pillow that’s sat right in front of you. toji’s thumb, he circles it around before lolling out his tongue. even though you’re not directly facing him, you can just hear how wet it is—how wet you are.

you’re squelching so loud that it bounces off the walls, ricocheting against every peeling corner.

the syrupy saliva that departs and smacks from his lips once he open his mouth. “god, ‘yer fuckin’ wet, baby. just for me,” he murmurs, and he creates a long slippery slicking trail from the starting point of your throbbing clitoral hood all the way until he reaches your hole. he pauses as sheeny drool following his mouth. saliva continues to slip away from his wry crooked lips as his lips open and close. he’s fucking sloppy.

it was no secret—toji fushiguro was feral, happily smearing his face against your cunt whilst his tongue multitasks, licking near your ass.

it’s a sensation that almost tickles but oh, you weren’t laughing. your toes curl up in pure ecstasy and your face scrunches as he’s just devouring you whole like the starved man he was.

“ngh, tojiiii,” you whine, feeling the luscious twirl of his fat long tongue run over against every part of your pussy. your estatic nerves felt it all, he was very precise and never missed a spot.

toji’s lip scar that swoops down the right curve of his mouth faintly brushes up near your clit as his head continues to move. he hears you ‘ooh’ at the ticklish feeling and he chortles darkly. he likes to loll out his tongue even further, repeatedly thwacking the center of his tongue against your clit just so you can grow dumb from his piercing.

with your chest continuously dipping and heaving, you’re shivering against the as he’s got a face full of your ass—he feels you reaching from behind, grabbing near his overgrown unkempt strands to give it a nice mean tug. you’re dragging his head against your pussy now, even if your grip was a bit weak. “ohmygod, ‘s gonna make me cum too quick, toji.”

“taste so sweet, he grumbles, your viscous slick gluing all against his reddened scarlet lips. toji continues to dip and delve his lengthy flat tongue in and out of your sweet puckering hole before trailing it back up towards your cunt.

you let off a pretty mewl that lasts for multiple seconds, feeling dewy saturated strings of his spit run away from his own two lips and slabber all over your wet flaps. if it’s one thing toji does, he makes sure that you’re always wet for him.

you’re biting your fist until your knuckles split, occasionally hearing him spit against your cunt again, using a clammy palm to smother it everywhere.

“my wet girl,” his lips purse, soft pants of breath fanning right against your slick. you’re frantically quavering—shaking, and those warm ghostly breaths that waft by your rear doesn’t make things any better. various tingles roam through your body as he’s eating you out from behind, savoring your taste entirely. “mhm, don’t get lazy on me now. shake y’er ass against my face, baby. fuck me back.”

you moan once he gives your right bare ass cheek a firm squeeze. cupping it into his palm, he spanks it before you obey his command. jolting soft skin recoils and jiggles against his face and toji snickers, lying his wide tongue even flatter against your exposed wet pussy.

“uh huh, atta girl, lemme taste all of you,” and as he’s slurping, it doesn’t take long before you’re shooting utter blanks yet again.

interrupting static deafens your ears as a roaring wave crashes through your veins. your knees abruptly buckle until you’re collapsing forward in the mattress and its silky sheets. only then do you now finish on his tongue, letting off a shrilling whine.

“mhm, there it is, there’s my sloppy baby,” and a lustrous stream of your sweetened juices spew down his chin. his chin’s now shiny, and your glistening slick even decorates his stubble.

“fuck,” he takes a moment to breathe, flicking his tongue against his lips. so sweet, toji’s dark eyes rove down at your cute elated state as you slumped into the pillows. you’re trying to crawl away but with two hands, he’s reeling you right back into him. “oh, no ya don’t. get back here, pretty girl,” and your lips part into an ‘o’ as you gasp, feeling his teeth playfully nibble against your pussy.

and toji doesn’t let you escape his grasp. not yet anyway, he was starving. he missed you, and his tongue showed that.

you hadn’t realized how much time’s passed whilst he’s between your legs—you’d guess it’s been a few hours since it was almost dusk now.

toji was a eater, he’s got you lied flat on your back now as he’s slurping you clean. his tongue flicks underneath his bottom lip, tasting the mess you caused that’s pouring down his slick chin. it’s probably been your fifth orgasm and your legs can barely hold themselves up.

“mhm,” and he’s just munching your pretty pussy, glossy strands of his own saliva mixing with your sap continues to dribble down his chin. he’s made such a mess, all because of you. “you sprayed between your legs, didn’t you baby?”

“n- no,” you lie, dragging his head back and forth against your cunt. you did, but to be fair you didn’t think it’d work. you thought it was just another scam. but it wasn’t — toji was here, eating you out as if your pussy was the last edible thing in world.

make no mistake, he was a filthy man. his entire chin’s cascading with a stream of your syrupy mess and he barely bats an eye. you didn’t know how much more you could take before he chuckles, finally departing his lips.

“you’re a bad liar,” and his voice grows deep again. you meet his eyes and that’s when toji makes you get on all fours again. “ass up. y’know the drill. atta girllll,” and you almost shiver from his touch. toji stares at your perked ass, bringing a palm towards your left templed cheek. smack, you moan from the abrupt sting before he later caresses it. “god, i missed you. those idiots wouldn’t even let me touch myself, baby. thought about you the entire time i was rottin’.”

and as he speaks, your cheek presses further against the pillow. toji tugs on his the sweats of his orange jumpsuit—the fabric writhes against his slim waist before falling down, now exposing his boxers. he watches as your ass writhes and he hums, springing out his thick cock. “shit, you don’t even realize how good you smell, do ya?”

“no,” you breathe, feeling a lump circle near the inside of your throat once he brings his tip towards your entrance.

it’s sopping wet, weeping with honeyed tears of slick before he smacks it against your puffy hood.

“fuuuck,” you whine out, the feeling of his bulbous mushroom tip bringing you so many memories. he brushes it down your sensitive slit and you feel the slimy remnants of precum that oozes off his frenulum. a hand of his wraps around his veiny length, giving it a few striking pumps before toji groans. “fuck me toji, f- fuckin’ hurry up.”

“now girl,” he brings another smack towards your rear. this time it’s harder, the recoil rings through your ears and makes you chew the inside of your cheek. “don’t rush me,” and as the bass in his voice pitches lowers and lower, you feel yourself pulsate right between your sprawled out thighs.

toji’s aligning himself, hearing your sloshing weeps sloppily exit out of your pussy. a wry smile compresses against his lips before he wraps a few fingers over the back of your throat with his free hand. “ ‘m gonna take my time with you. so, do me a favor baby. arch that pretty back ‘n shut the fuck up.”

it was such authority in his voice—despite his tip barely even being in, he felt your cunt twitching almost right away.

it makes him snicker to himself, caressing your stinging back side with a scarred bare hand.

“good girl,” and he leans further in, taking yet another whiff of your salaciously rich scent. “here it comes,” he lowly purrs, and you bite your lip once he’s finally entering inside of you.

toji’s slow, purposely. he loves more than anything to see your patience wearing thin, squirming and just aching for a crumb of dick. as he’s perfectly aligned, his swollen angered cockhead gradually starts to disappear inside of your pussy.

“biiiiig stretch, there we go babygirl. take it.” and you’re moaning at each ridiculous inch burying its way inside of you. with little to no ease at all, he’s mending your squashy walls and shaping them all due to the size of his thick cock.

he’s so big, so big that his dick makes your tummy cave in a bit and your thighs start to rattle.

toji’s got a fat delicious hook that always curves inside of you as he’s going in. it’s so good - so good to where you’re feeling butterflies brew up inside of your stomach . . unless that was just his bulge.

“toji, ohmygodohmygoddd,” you babble out, gasping with slick parted lips at the gaping barrage he makes with his dick. he’s only halfway in and yet you feel so full. you almost forgot what it was like for him to fuck you, and oh did you miss it. “you’re not—ngh, not gonna fit.”

“silly girl,” he huffs, already starting to feel himself break a sweat. his forehead’s starting to get clammy the more he’s easing his way in. the raven haired man towers over your jittery body before you feel his hungry gaze rove down your back. “we’ll make it work, princess. just like we always do, i trained this pussy well.”

squiiiissssh!

right after he speaks, you’re already gushing from his cock being so deep inside. his tip gets covered with your slick and he hums in amusement.

“even she agrees with me,” he hoarsely utters, preparing his sharp keen hips. you’re just so wet, you nibble down on your tongue as he’s losing himself further inside. it feels like forever until toji’s finally fully in. you hear a ringing ‘pop’ and that’s when you knew he was fitted nice and snug. “there we go, told ya. i always make it fit just for you—oh fuuucckk.”

your scent’s filling up the room now and it’s just driving him crazy. it gives him a headache, the kind of headache where he actually likes the pounding.

he can’t get enough of you, whether it’s your perfume, your body, or just you in general. all he knew was that he missed you and he was gonna show you how, with his deep pivotal thrusts.

“hngh, toji fuck,” you whimper out, and it doesn’t take long before he’s starting up a fast pitiless pace. the bed immediately dips from the harsh amounts of weight and pressure. toji’s got both hands glued to your hips.

his fat tip rudely thrashed at your sweet pulsing cunt time and time again. he’s simply relentless.

as he’s moving with such speed, you feel his full swollen base tap against your ass over and over.

you almost drooled, imagining how much he’d cum inside of you this time. his fingerstips dug so far into your skin that he left brief marks - it wasn’t too bad, but he’d definitely look back at it later just to tease you. “mmph, fuck toji. right there, that spot, baby.”

“i love you sweetheart but you talk too much,” he grouses, and you’re caught off guard once he pauses mid thrust just lean up close against you.

with your back still turned the opposite way, he pulls down your panties all the way, stuffing them in your empty mouth. “there, keep those pretty things in. only sounds i wanna hear is from y’er pussy, she’s the star tonight.”

toji’s cock was just merciless.

if you thought he was mean in bed, his hips were even meaner. ruthless, you’re being fucked against the springy mattress that’s creaking and the same babbles come out of your lips every time.

those same pathetic cries of his name. . it was like music to his ears. you couldn’t see yourself but you just knew you looked a mess.

you were drooling all against the satin pillow case as your eyes were just bulging out of their sockets. toji always knew how to stretch you good and stretch you right.

he was thick, driving his hips into you at such barbarous force that you were almost sure he was gonna break you. he wasn’t lying when he said he missed you. being away from you for so long was practically torture, and yes it was entirely his fault for getting locked up in the first place but still.

“ugh, mmph!” you whine, your noises becoming muffled from the bawled up panties that were stuffed inside of your puffed cheeks.

he was unapologetically drilling into your cunt as if he was a construction worker. if it wasn’t thanks to toji’s grip with hands, you’d probably fall of the bed and land flat on your ass.

“squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight—shit,” he growls, his dark brows curling up together in frustration.

your walls were so clingy, they always were. his dick knew just the right spots to make you scream. after a few sloppy hits, his sweltering hot crown starts to break through your walls, pounding in and out until you’re just dumb full of cock.

you were stupid, entirely dumbfounded—and not a single thought crossed your mind as he’s hitting against that same sweet spot. you feel your toes curl up all the way until they feel numb and you let off a inaudible squeal. “pussy’s such a crybaby, look at how much y’er sobbin’ on me, princess.” he points out, purposely slowing his thrusts down just to ogle at the glimmering cobwebs of your own slick streaming down his cock.

it’s so pretty, you’re drenching his length each second and he feels himself twitch - you feel him twitch inside of you.

as he’s still vigorously delving his fat cock in and out of you, you feel toji’s grip around your neck softly tighten. silvery fingers stroke against your tender skin and you moan, a cock drunk smile spreading across your lips whilst your mouth’s full of your own damn panties.

you even taste yourself and it leaves a bittersweet taste in your mouth. toji then suddenly raises your ass up just a bit more.

“hey,” he grumbles, swatting a hand against your ass. you’re snapped out of your own lewd thoughts once the sting meets against your rear.

dark sly eyes flicker toward your body that’s twitching underneath him and he hums. “fuck back against me. don’t be a lazy girl,” and your cunt’s so close, you’re on the very verge and almost every nerve that’s buried between your thighs prepares itself for its elated finish. “fuck. me. back.” he repeats, his words an almost growl.

you whimper, quickening your hips again and he stares at your ass that’s gluing against his sharp pelvis, smack smack smacking away. the recoil was always his favorite part, he groans at how good you stick against him, luxuriating in your sweet filth.

you’re clinging onto the creamy white sheets for dear life while you’re also just casually getting the life fucked out of you.

toji always fucked like he hated you—of course, he didn’t. he loved you, he even put a pretty rock on your finger and couldn’t wait to take your last name. or vice versa.

alas, whenever the conversation went towards the bedroom, that was an entirely different story.

he was mean, sharp angered hips would plowed into you like he hated your guts. his tip’s a crimson red, kissing up against your sweetest spot that’s buried so far deep inside of you that it leaves a mark. your stomach continues to seize as he’s driving himself in and out of you, leaving a little bulge that prods near the lower part of your tummy.

“aw,” he glances at you trying to feel near the exact spot with your hand.

toji grunts lowly at the sharp twinge near his thigh, he’s almost out of fuel but he hasn’t had enough of you.

not yet.

“feel me there, yeah? ‘m really that deep, princess,” he whispers in a raspy tone, and you can hear just how out of breath he is. every few words were broken up and he’s panting right with you, pinching the bridge of his nose to suppress his own moans. “our future baby’s gonna be riiiight in here someday, princess. gonna make you the prettiest fuckin’ mommy.”

“mmph—mmph!”

“oh, right,” he cackles darkly, leaning in to pull your panties out of your mouth. once he does, you’re matching the drilling speed of his pants.

toji keeps jackhammering into your sopping wet cunt and you’re just hysterical. a raw squeal dies out from the back of your throat before you abruptly end up cumming.

it’s quick, you cream all down his cock and your eyelids fatally flap shut. “the fuck,” he pauses, and you feel yourself throbbing all around him. you’re shook, your eyebrows twist together in pleasure and you’re just trying to gasp for any breaths you could get. you pout once he stops his hips all of a sudden, still shoved numerous inches inside before he releases his hand from your throat. “i know you didn’t just cum on me baby.”

you gulp, still heavily sensitive. your body’s practically on fire and you hated that he suddenly stopped.

toji didn’t like whenever you came—without asking first at least. “ ‘m sorry,” you moan, hearing his heavy pants directly from behind you. there was a sweet bratty lie underneath your two words and he knew that. toji fushiguro was no idiot. “sorry toji, didn’t mean—”

“oh, babygirl i’m sorry too,” and you’re confused for a moment before he makes your face squish even further against the pillows. a hand of his lightly pushes your head back into the mattress. you whine once you feel him starting up again.

your pussy resumes to freely constrict around his length before he’s starting up his insane pace again. toji feels you trying to crawl away again, weakly trying to paw your hands at the edge of the bed but he’s pulling you right back.

your ass slams against him and you moan, feeling him thrash against your beloved g-spot yet again.

“nah, we aren’t running today. get back here ‘n take this,” and he talks over your sweet babbles and mewls, speaking in a faux tone to match yours. “you’re a big girl aren’t ya, yeahhh? so whatcha runnin’ for?”

as toji reels you back to his raunchy rude hips, they snap into you at full force and you’re just choking on your own mewling whimpers by this point.

hours past, many many hours of you being fucked in any and every position.

toji’s got you screaming at the top of your lungs from each delirious orgasm that he coaxed out of you. he tells you to give him one more, just one more—but that ‘one more’ ends up being at least six more.

you’ve never felt more dumb out of your mind, and every few seconds he’d run his nose down your back just to get another whiff of your sweet enticing scent. by now, he’s lost count of how many times he smelled you. whatever perfume you were wearing, it was now his favorite.

he had you creaming down his cock again and again, your legs shook in defeat and you moan once he prepares to start up again.

but that’s when you lie him back.

“ugh,” he falls back, and his arms rest over the headboard of the bed. there you’re met with the eyes of a very feral man. toji’s jumpsuit was half on, barely even on at this rate. you take a chance to look at him and he’s just so swole. your eyes roam down his beefy body. he’s definitely got more toned since the last time you saw him. his body, it’s as if he was a sculpture. his and were similar to a greek god, droplets of sweat race down near his sharp v-line and you were mentally drooling. you peer down at a few of his tats that ink into his skin, a few veins running down his forearms. “now, that’s pretty damn rude, baby. pushin’ me over like that. oughta—”

“shut up, toji,” you murmur, still trying to get over your most recent orgasm. your ears rang, so loud that it’s putting bells to shame. with hooded eyes and that same sleazy grin, he holds onto your waist as you make your way on his lap.

toji snickers, a palm of his hand squeezing your ass tight. “oh, so y’er gonna ride me. ‘s that what this is, princess?” and you could hear the smug in his tone.

he didn’t think you had the guts. .

the dimples that poke against either side of his lips confirmed his haughty expression. “cute, but fine. go ahead then, girl,” and he spanks your ass, burying his face into your neck, licking against your sweet skin. “ride me.”

you barely even last a few minutes—toji’s just too fucking big.

you’re babbling yet again at how he’s not gonna fit and he just wryly grins at you. seeing you struggle to take him for the umpteenth time continues to feed his annoying ego.

but like the gentleman he was, toji helps you.

big firm hands attach to your waist and he helps you align yourself once more. your cunt’s profusely drooling, aching for more despite the overstimulation that’s continuing to dumb you down.

“such a baby. gotta help ya with everything,” he whispers, hiding his face inside the crook of your neck.

your scent was still so loud, the smell of you alone made him throb and you felt it from the inside of your gripping pussy.

your clingy walls clamp and squeeze around him tightly before you start up your frantic hips again. twisting your brows together in lewd rapture, you whine—tossing your arms over his broad shoulders. after a few seconds, then do you start to move your hips. “fuck, that’s it baby. ride me good, yeah. move those hips, shiiit.”

he groans, feeling his pumping cock drag its way through every part of your slick walls. he never misses a spot, and he sticks his tongue out, dragging it down your collarbone.

“mhm, fuck me. ride it like you want it, princess.” he spanks your ass, hearing the bed wail and creak out frail groans of its own. your hips threw itself in a circle as you’re on his lap, taking in every inch of his thick heavy cock. toji closes his eyes, inhaling your scent for the nth time, and it’s almost as if the second you started riding him, your smell got even stronger.

your slick glosses down his cock entirely, and it’s so pretty. every chance you get, you stare down between your legs just to see the sloshing mess that’s slapping right directly right underneath you. strands of glistening juices blissfully mix with his and just it’s filthy.

it even tangles into a mere cobweb the quicker you bounce up and down his dick. “f- fuck, fuck,” you stammer, and you’re so full—full of nothing but long girthy inches.

again, his maddened plump tip was just rude.

it’s smacking against your spongy sensitive spot constantly, dragging out those cute whimpers from your throat. your fingertips claw down his back whilst your hips becoming incredibly sloppy. “toji, ‘m gonna cum again. fuck, gonna cum again. hngh, please lemme c-cum.”

“let me think about it,” he sighs, and your face cutely drops at his teasing. toji nips small minuscule bites near your neck as his cock stills inside of you. “hmmmmm,” and he even hums over your pleading whines. burly arms wrap around your waist before he squeezes near your ass. he waits for a good seven seconds before darkly chuckling, lapping his tongue directly underneath your chin. “fine. go ahe—fuck.”

toji groans because right as he speaks, he ends up cumming right with you. his teeth bites into your skin as he’s dumping in a fat load inside, creamy globs filling you up almost right away.

his body violently erupts, feeling a ripple of vibrations jolt through his body and you feel the exact same.

you felt a spark surge through your veins and your brain just turned into complete mush. as your dead hips feebly writhe against him your jaw is just hanging open. “hngh, ‘s full,” you wheeze, feeling him continue to overflow your pussy with such thick amounts.

it’s a lot, so much to where it’s drooling all down your thighs, matching color against the ivory colored sheets.

it was so warm - hot even.

you hear the sloshing spurts that it makes and you’re panting just as much as he was.

toji saved so much for you.

his jaw tightens as he leans back, one hand still glued to the right cheek of your ass. “god, i fuckin’ missed you,” he groans, feeling a tingly sensation at the way you swallow every drop with your drooling cunt. your hips waver over him, and once toji brings his face up to stare at you again, he cups your face. “you alright, princess?”

“y- yeah i—” but before you could even finish your sentence, he pulls you in a deep passionate kiss.

it’s sloppy more than anything, and you feel his hands creep down toward your tits, squeezing against your plump swollen mounds. you whine in his mouth as both tangled tongues move in tavern. shaggy bangs brush against your forehead as you wrap your arms around him. as he’s hungrily shoving his tongue down your throat, that’s when he feels your hips slowly starting to grind again.

after a few long seconds, toji pulls away, watching the lustrous trial of saliva leave from both lips. he’s still so sensitive and so were you.

“baby,” he says, raspy and out of breath. he leans in, giving you one more sniff before groaning in your neck. the insides of your thighs were sticky, glued to the very crevices with his hot gluey cum and you definitely milked him. “i need more—fuck, i need more.” and you gasp once you’re suddenly flipped over on your back.

leafy green eyes bore into your ass and you moan once toji drags a big thumb down your cunt that’s slobbering with milky globs of his seed.

“shit, look at this mess,” and he slides his tongue across his lip - specifically, across the scar that runs down his sly crooked lips. “hah, y’er tummy’s not full enough yet, princess,” and you can almost hear the pout in his voice as he’s stood behind you.

toji vertically smears his thumb against your cunt that’s weeping with such thick velvety amounts of cum. he inches his face toward your rear before bringing a kiss towards your wet entrance.

“before i give you more though, ‘m gonna have ‘ta clean this mess,” and you let off a surprised gasp once he dips his tongue back into your pussy again, the cold pierced ball that lies on his tongue making you whimper. “so be a good girl ‘n bend over again for me,” and he starts to nibble against your clit, feeling you ardently pulse against his tongue.

“heh, but i gotta say, this food right here’s so much fuckin’ better than the shit they serve us in prison, princess,” and toji spits right on your folds one last time, giving it a playful smack. “so much better. . ”

[humanjarvis]

you’d been perplexed when sylus had called you in the middle of the day—which was usually his favorite time to rest. 

“can you come to the base, sweetie?” he’d rasped, voice thick with ruined sleep. “i need your help with something.” 

your confusion is all the more reason for you to head to the base. when you arrive, you let yourself in and greet mephisto with a poke on the beak before hurrying to sylus’s bedroom.

“is something wrong?” you breathe, all but barging in. quickly, you scan the room for threats or intruders before your eyes land on the hulking figure in front of you. 

the hulking figure who’s uncharacteristically hunched over his bed, head bent and looking defeated. 

at your voice, he looks up, and you know him well enough to see the relief and slight embarrassment in his ruby eyes. 

“…sylus?” you ask hesitantly, “what’s going on? you should be sleeping right now.” 

“i was asleep,” he agrees with a slow nod. “and then…i ran into a slight problem,” he responds carefully, eyes flitting forlornly to the side of the bed.

curious, you come to stand beside him, placing a hand on his sagging shoulder. it takes a few seconds, but then, you spot it: trapped between the dark oak boards of his bedframe is a small brilliant red gem, glittering slightly in what little sunlight fills the room. 

“are you able to retrieve it?” he asks quietly. “it must have fallen earlier. when you’re not here…i can’t sleep without it.” 

“o…kay?” you reply, your confusion only doubling. taking a moment to study him, you notice the small pout on his face and stroke his slightly mussed hair. “of course i’ll get it. just a sec.” 

a moment later, you’re kneeling down to stick your hand in the bedframe and wiggling your fingers until you feel the crystal’s cool surface. you pull it out in one fluid motion, blow the dust off, and deposit it into sylus’s waiting hand. flashing you a tired, grateful smile, he immediately places it securely under his pillow. 

“there you go!” you chirp, pleased to have helped him. “but…can i ask something? why didn’t you just fish it out yourself?” 

avoiding your gaze, he clears his throat before he speaks.

“…my hands were too big.”

[cutehoons02]

Summer of desires

*pairing: pervy library student Heeseung x popular rich Girl

*trope: grumpy x sunshine/he fall first, she fall harder

*synopsis: What would happen when the city bookseller as well as your classmate timid with sweet air but with extreme dirty thoughts about you from the first day he saw you for the first time sold you spicy books? Between summer bonfires, stolen kisses in the library, provocations and summer baths what will happen between the popular girl with no wires on her tongue and a slightly perverted nerd?

*tags: A lot of tension, Heeseung is downbad for the protagonist, obsession, fake innocent girl, needy heeseung, needy girl, tease each other, summer vibes, kisses in the private pool, fluffy, masturbation,nipples plays, fingering, touchy girl/Hee, pacifiers, virgin protagonist, unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) pet names (sweetheart,baby) (hee)

14.9k (👙)

(English is not my native lanuage)

The seaside town of Jeongdongjin was famous for its crystal-clear sea and fiery sunsets, but in that small community, there was also a place many didn’t notice, except for its dusty windows and the smell of yellowed paper that mixed with the scent of the sea. The Quiet Corner, the town’s bookstore, was a peaceful spot, but it was also a refuge of sorts for Heeseung. He was the typical nerd on campus, but not in a conventional way. Yes, he loved spending time between the pages of books and in front of the console, but he wasn’t just the solitary guy that no one noticed. Heeseung, with his glasses and always pensive expression, was also the type of guy who knew how to flirt with girls, but never really committed. He was an ambivert, so sometimes he seemed distant, at other times perplexing, and sometimes even charming, especially with girls. And with Y/n, he had a very different interest: he was obsessed with her innocence. Y/n, the perfect girl on campus, seemed to have stepped out of a dream. Long, curly hair that sparkled in the sunlight, eyes as clear as the summer sea, and skin so pale it seemed almost unreal. She was the silent queen among the girls, always elegant, flawless, and dressed like a good girl. Her innocence was almost tangible, an aura that made her irresistible to everyone. But Heeseung didn’t just see the angelic Y/n. He saw her as a target. A target to conquer, yes, but not in the way the other guys would. For him, the allure was in stripping away that aura of purity. He knew Y/n was a virgin, and in some way, he found that incredibly exciting. He wanted to see how she would react, wanted to uncover her darker side, the one no one knew. He wanted to ruin her. Heeseung’s thoughts were often fueled by less-than-innocent fantasies. He imagined her, saw her in his mind, stripped of her virginal calmness, shaken, like a butterfly caught in his net. Yet, despite his desire to break her, he always did it from a distance. He watched her from afar, observing every movement, every smile Y/n gave to the world, while he noticed the imperfections no one else could see. He had never really approached her. They had only spoken twice—once at a bonfire party when she had asked him where the bathroom was, and another time when they had bumped into each other in the corridor on campus. Nothing much. Yet, for him, every single exchange had been like an electric shock. Almost enough to send him into a frenzy. It was a late summer afternoon, and the heat outside seemed endless. The cicadas sang, emitting a constant sound that almost seemed to scream, "even hotter." Heeseung was behind the counter, focused on the computer while checking the shipments. The bookstore, now empty, didn’t see many customers, especially since people had started to prefer online shopping. It was one of the few places still holding live readings on the terrace overlooking the ocean, but those events only attracted a handful of enthusiasts. It was the usual boring afternoon when the sound of the door opening interrupted the monotony. A soft, familiar voice, almost blending with the wind, made him look up. And there she was, standing in front of him.

Y/n. Her light dress, a white sundress, fluttered just above her body, revealing the swimsuit underneath. The sun illuminated her, creating a sort of halo around her. Her tanned skin seemed to shine under the afternoon rays. The strap of her dress was slightly slipping down, exposing part of her swimsuit, and Heeseung couldn’t help but notice. A shiver of desire ran down his spine. "It's ridiculously hot outside," said, smiling. Your voice was cool, like the sound of a sea breeze. "I'm tired of being at the beach, so I thought I'd come grab a book. My roommates are dying to get away from university and read a few books under the sun, and they told me to buy some books that are going viral on TikTok." Heeseung snapped out of his daze and, trying to stay calm, responded, "Of course, no problem. What books did you order?" His tone tried to sound natural, but he couldn’t hide the unease that was growing inside him. His gaze once again fell on her dress, the strap slowly slipping off her shoulder, as if it wanted to reveal even more. His mind was immediately overtaken by mischievous images and desires he couldn’t suppress. You pulled out your phone and looked at the titles of the books spotted on her FYP. "So… let's see… A Touch of Darkness by Scarlett St. Clair, The Deal by Elle Kennedy, and Twisted Love by Ana Huang," you said, smiling innocently, but Heeseung immediately sensed the spark those romantic and “spicy” books evoked. He raised an eyebrow, trying to keep the playful tone, but a small mischievous smile crept across his face. "I didn’t think the perfect, innocent girl on campus would be reading books like that," he said, almost challenging you. There was something in the way you looked at him that made him feel more uneasy, but at the same time, it also made him feel closer to her.

You, of course, blushed immediately. Your cheeks turned bright red as you looked down. "Well," you said with a nervous laugh, "everyone, even people older than me, has stumbled upon spicy romance. It's not that strange, right?" You tried to downplay it, but your face betrayed your insecurity. Heeseung couldn’t hold back a smile as he watched your reactions. The sweetness of Y/n always struck him, but now there was a different vibe. A vibe of complicity that he had never felt before. "A secret, huh?" he said, moving slightly closer to the counter, his smile becoming more intense. "I’m not as innocent as I seem," he added, lowering his eyes onto you with a look that was anything but innocent. His mind began to wander into darker, more sensual territories, imagining what it would feel like to touch your skin under his hands. You looked at him, your crystal-clear eyes now a bit confused, while your lips curved into a shyer, almost uncertain smile. Your sweetness, that same innocence that had always drawn Heeseung to you, made him feel conflicted. He wanted to know that side of you that no one seemed to be able to see. But his mind, growing more crowded with perverted thoughts, couldn’t stop. He could still see the strap of your dress slipping slightly, almost as if inviting him to look more closely. He wanted to pull it down even further, to discover what was underneath. You, unaware of the thoughts Heeseung was having, shifted slightly, trying to appear more at ease. "Yet, it’s not that strange," you repeated, trying not to seem too embarrassed. "After all, I’m part of Gen Z, right? We’ve got our secrets too."

Heeseung looked at you, his smile growing bolder as he observed you with amusement. "Are you sure you want to share them with me?" he asked, his voice now lower as if he were playing with you as if there were an unspoken challenge between you two. You, now almost completely red, felt torn between wanting to run away and wanting to continue that conversation. "I think it’s a secret you should keep to yourself," you replied nervously, trying to distance yourself from the moment that was becoming heavier with tension. Heeseung looked at you with more intense eyes, his smile more knowing than ever. "Maybe one day, when you’re not so… innocent anymore, I’ll reveal it," he said, as a flash of desire crossed his gaze. You, with your innocence mixed with embarrassment, could no longer keep your heart from racing. "Maybe," you replied, trying to joke, but the way Heeseung looked at you made you feel something strange in your chest. It was a tension that grew stronger, like the heat filling the summer air, as both of you felt trapped between desire and embarrassment.

"I didn’t prepare them, but you can easily find them in the BookTok and Romance section, right at the corner of the bookstore," Heeseung said with a smile that hinted at a bit of amusement. His voice was softer, almost as if he was trying to mask the little game he was playing. You smiled excitedly, your eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, like a puppy eager to run to a playground. "I can’t wait to check them out!" you exclaimed, your tone light and cheerful. "My roommates sent me tons of aesthetic TikTok videos. The fan art was amazing!" As you said that, you approached the counter with a confident step, your white dress moving delicately, revealing your tanned skin that Heeseung tried not to stare at for too long. But he couldn’t help noticing it, especially with your straps slightly slipping down, almost as if inviting him to look. Heeseung gestured for you to follow the path to the corner, where the section was hidden between shelves full of books. As you walked together, his mind filled with thoughts he tried to push away but couldn’t ignore.

"So… what are they about exactly?" he asked, trying to sound casual, although his gaze was a little more intense than before.

"Well," you replied, "in Twisted Love, there’s this incredible chemistry between the main characters. If I’m not mistaken, he’s the best friend of the protagonist's brother with a dark past, and there’s a lot of tension, and... well, let's just say calling it ‘spicy’ is an understatement," you said, laughing with a hint of mischief. "But I love these dark romance dynamics! The spiciest part is when she realizes she wants something more. And then... well, I’ll let you find out."

Heeseung stopped and looked at you, a small mischievous smile playing on his lips. "I figured," he said. "And what about The Deal by Elle Kennedy? Do you like sports? Hockey, right?"

"Hockey!" you exclaimed, a bit surprised by the question. "I don’t know much about it, to be honest. But... I’ve heard it’s one of the best in the series." Your voice was light and sincere, but you couldn’t hide a slight hesitation. "And then... the main characters have this amazing chemistry. She’s a total chatterbox, and he’s a bit grumpy at first, but then they start to discover each other. I think I’ll like it!" you added, trying to sound more confident.

Heeseung chuckled softly. "It is, and one of the spiciest too, if I may say," he said, his tone playful but with a hint of provocation. "It might surprise you." His eyes couldn’t seem to look away from you, from your crystal-clear eyes reflecting the sunset light, from your golden skin that seemed to almost invite him to do something more... intimate.

You became a bit more serious as if trying to understand better what Heeseung was trying to imply. "I think the spiciest one, though, is Twisted Love," you replied without hesitation, with a smile that carried a bit of complicity. "I don’t think you’d fully understand it. Let’s just say... it’s spicier than you think."

Heeseung looked at you with a mixture of curiosity and a hint of challenge in his eyes. "And how do you know all these things?" he asked, keeping his smile. "I didn’t picture you as so… experienced," he added lightly, with that little bit of flirtation he couldn’t hide. You laughed, but the laugh was shy, almost embarrassed. "Well, it’s another secret," you said, giving a little wave of your hand, as if trying to keep that little mystery. "Don’t tell anyone, okay?" Heeseung watched you, his hands in his pockets as he followed you along the shelves. "Another secret, huh?" he said, his smile widening a little, his eyes seeming to never want to look away from yours. Every word coming from your mouth felt like a little game between you two as if you were both trying to discover something more, bit by bit. But in the meantime, his hands were slightly sweating. The tension between you two was palpable, like the warm, dense air that filled the bookstore. Finally, Heeseung took the books you had chosen, one by one, and carefully placed them on the counter. "Here you go," he said, his voice lower now, almost a whisper. "All the books you’re looking for." You moved to pay, and while he did, Heeseung couldn’t stop watching you. His heart was pounding harder. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. Your skin, the way the sundress moved delicately on your body, your straps continuing to slip down slowly… It was all so tempting. When you grabbed the bag with the books, you turned to Heeseung and smiled at him with an air of complicity. "See you around, Heeseung," you said with a smile that was as innocent as it was dangerous. Heeseung was stunned, his heart skipping a beat inside him. How did she know his name? She had called him by his name. How was that possible? His thoughts started to whirl, and soon a flood of perverse images filled his mind. "See you…" he mumbled, still confused. "Y-yeah, see you…" he said, trying to mask the whirlwind of emotions he was feeling. You walked away, leaving the bookstore, while Heeseung stayed there, watching you leave.

It had been a week since the last time he had seen you, and on the bookstore's website, you had written that you would stop by to buy more books. The sky over the coastal town had turned gray a few hours ago, and the streets had been suddenly flooded by a torrential downpour that forced everyone to seek shelter. Heeseung, however, had stayed in the bookstore, nervously staring at the clock on the wall. 5:30 PM. You had told him you’d come by, and he – in a way he wouldn’t even admit to himself – had even switched his shift to be there. He had fixed his bangs at least ten times in the reflection of the computer, carefully chosen what to wear – no glasses this time, a slightly oversized t-shirt, and dark jeans, trendy enough not to look too nerdy – but there was no sign of you. He had almost convinced himself that you weren’t coming when the sound of the bell on the door made him snap his gaze upward. And there you were, soaked, with your hoodie completely drenched on your head, the light t-shirt sticking to your body from the water, and the only piece of clothing still somewhat intact and not fully wet were your light denim shorts, hugging your legs as if they were tailor-made. The wet fabric of your shirt, however, betrayed the secret hidden underneath: the pink bikini you wore was perfectly visible, and Heeseung suddenly felt very, very hot. But then, instead of complaining like most girls would have, you burst out laughing.

"Didn’t you hear the weather forecast? The rainy season has started," Heeseung remarked, crossing his arms over his chest while desperately trying not to look at you too intensely.

You shook the water off yourself, still laughing. "I was a little busy, actually," you said cheerfully, with a bit of cheekiness. "I was studying… or maybe I was too caught up in the spicy books you recommended."

Heeseung’s breath caught for a second. He looked at you, slightly shocked but mostly amused.

"...So you read the spiciest ones?"

You smiled, tilting your head to the side as you dropped your hoodie on the nearest chair. "Of course."

Heeseung swallowed. There was something dangerous in the way you were looking at him like you were playing with him as if you were enjoying seeing how far you could make him crumble. And he wasn’t the type to be cornered easily.

He took a step closer, lowering his gaze slightly. "So tell me, then… which one was your favorite?" he asked, his voice lower, slower.

Your eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. "Mmh... hard to say," you murmured, biting your lip slightly. "But I think Twisted Love was the most... intense."

Heeseung smiled, the more dangerous side of him beginning to show. "Intense, huh?" You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest in an involuntary gesture that almost drove him insane – because the movement highlighted how the wet shirt clung to your body. He looked down, and you caught him in the act. With two fingers, you gently lifted his chin, making him look you in the eyes.

"My face is higher, Heeseung."

He held his breath, holy hell, you were provoking him,

he swallowed and ran a hand through his hair, trying to regain some control. "Do you need a dry t-shirt?" "That would be nice of you," you replied with a smirk. Heeseung sighed, shaking his head as he turned toward the back door. "Come with me, I’ve got one in the locker room." You followed him into the small room behind the counter, where the shelves with the bookstore supplies and lockers for the staff were. Heeseung opened his locker, pulling out a white basketball shirt with a number printed on the back. "It’s the only one I have." You took it, looking at it for a moment before lifting your gaze to him. "It’s huge on me." Heeseung leaned his shoulder against the locker, crossing his arms. "Better that way." You raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Why?" He moistened his lips, looking at you with that intense gaze. "Because at least it covers everything." He challenged you to say something, but you just shrugged, turning your back to him to change. "Heeseung," you called softly. He turned his gaze away. "Tell me." "Don’t suppose you have any shorts, too?" He ran a hand over his face. Holy shit, he was screwed!

Heeseung looked at you for a moment, as if he were processing your request. He did indeed have a pair of basketball shorts in his locker, but giving you his clothes meant imagining you in them. Imagining you without yours, and that simple thought was enough to send him into a spiral. "I only have these basketball shorts…" he finally said, scratching the back of his neck while pulling the garment out. You reached out to take them. "They’ll be fine, I’ll just tighten them with the elastic." He hesitated, still uncertain, before handing them to you. And then, he stood there, dumbfounded. You smiled, tilting your head slightly as a mischievous spark flashed in your eyes. "Do you want me to give you a private striptease?" Heeseung’s eyes widened, and he raised his hands in surrender. "No! No, absolutely—" But the Adam's apple that trembled slightly betrayed every word of rejection. Without saying anything, without even giving him time to process what you were about to do, you moved your hands to your jeans and casually slid them down, letting them fall down your legs. Heeseung swallowed audibly and saw the pink bikini you were wearing hug your hips, accentuating your golden tan. The fabric stretched perfectly over your wet skin, tracing every curve in a way that Heeseung found unfair. His eyes were glued to your legs, to the way the water left little glowing trails on your skin. He should have looked away. He should have. But it was as if his body had suddenly disobeyed him.

Then, you reached out and took the shorts from his fingers, but in doing so, your fingers brushed against his. Without thinking, you guided his hand to your bare thigh. Heeseung felt like he was dying. Shit. He was touching you. Your skin was warm, and smooth, and the contrast with his slightly colder fingers made him shudder. You lifted your gaze to him, amused. "No guy has ever touched me so close to an intimate part." His fingers tightened imperceptibly on your skin. If only you knew the things running through his mind right now. His thoughts were dirty. Too dirty: he imagined the skin beneath his fingers burning against his palm, he imagined his hands slowly moving up— No. Stop. He swallowed again, trying to hold on to some semblance of composure. "Why me?" he asked finally, his voice a little hoarser than usual. You smiled. "Because you look at me differently." Heeseung stayed silent. Differently. Oh, if only you knew how much. His gaze had never been innocent. He had watched you from afar for too long, studying the way you moved, the way you smiled at everyone as if you were untouchable. Yet here you were, with his hand on your thigh, letting him do something no one else had ever been allowed to. He stared at you for a few seconds, then let out a small crooked smile. "Maybe it's better if you don’t know why." A jab. You caught it instantly but pretended not to notice. Or maybe you just wanted to keep playing. With agonizing slowness, you took one of his fingers and guided it along the edge of your bikini, right on your stomach. Heeseung stiffened, and you heard him quietly breathe as his finger slid over your skin, following the fabric's line to your hip. It was the final blow. He shuddered slightly, his fingers trembling as if fighting a primal instinct. But then you moved away, laughing, and slipped into his basketball shorts, tightening the elastic at your waist. Heeseung forced himself to take a step back, running a hand over his face as if to recover. The problem? You still hadn’t taken off your shirt, and he wasn’t sure he could survive the next scene. Heeseung felt the heat rise dangerously along his neck, all the way to his ears. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know where to look. It had already been hell watching you take off your jeans in front of him with such casualness, feeling the heat of your skin under his fingers, as if you had intentionally decided to drive him mad. And now this? You had taken off your soaked shirt with no shame, and the pink bikini you were wearing seemed painted onto your body. Damn, perfect.

His jaw tightened as his eyes involuntarily slid down to your chest, full and soft, the light fabric of your bikini clinging too well, revealing your hardened nipples from the cold. Holy. Shit. He cleared his throat, desperately trying to maintain control, but the smirk on your lips made it clear that you had noticed. "What's wrong, Heeseung?" you asked with an overly calculated innocence. "Have you never seen a girl in a bikini?" Something changed in his eyes. You were playing. And if there was one thing Heeseung knew, it was how to change the rules of the game. He suddenly became more serious, a shadow of a smile tugging at his lips. "You're aware you're playing with fire, right?" His voice was lower, deeper. You tilted your head, biting your lip. "Really?" He took a step forward. And you didn’t back away. Another step. And your chest brushed against his. Heeseung knew he should step back, he should stop you, stop himself—but he didn’t. Without thinking, he placed a hand on your back, his warm fingers sliding down the curve of your spine until they found the thin strap of your bikini. Your breath hitched in your throat. He was taller than you, and when he leaned in slightly, his eyes found yours, locked, dark, filled with something that made your legs shake. "What if I wanted to undo it?" he whispered, his fingers dangerously playing with the knot at the back of your bikini. A shiver ran down your spine. Heeseung lowered his voice even further. "What would people think if they walked in and found you with your bare chest, hm?" You smiled faintly. "You would never." A flash of amusement passed through his gaze. "Oh no?" You moved even closer, rising just a little on the tips of your toes, your body perfectly aligned with his. Your chest pressed against his, and Heeseung held his breath. Then you smiled again, tilting your head slightly. "You would never because you want to be the only one to see me naked."

A low moan escaped from Heeseung's lips, so quiet that you almost didn’t hear it. Almost. The tension between you became unbearable, and before he could react, before he could do anything, you rose on your toes again and pulled him closer, your hands gripping the collar of his shirt as your lips found his. You kissed him.

With passion, with desire, with an intensity that Heeseung never expected. And him? He didn’t think twice before kissing you back. Your lips against his were an explosion—it was the third kiss you’d ever given in your life. But with Heeseung… it was different. It was bolder, more intense, more desperate. He was the first to surprise you, because despite his grumpy and sarcastic demeanor, he kissed with a sweetness that made your legs tremble, but at the same time, there was something fierce in the way his lips moved against yours, something necessary, as if he had desired you for too long to hold back. And you? You weren’t any different. Your hands had gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer, your chest pressed against his, the heat between you becoming unbearable. You felt the taste of his breath mingling with yours, the faint swipe of his tongue against yours, which made you moan softly into his mouth. That small sound was his undoing. Heeseung grunted slightly, his hands tightening around your waist with more determination, and the kiss became more intense. Deeper. More hungry. His lips moved against yours in perfect rhythm, sometimes slow, sometimes more aggressively, as if he wanted to learn every single angle of your mouth as if he wanted to mark you. His tongue caressed yours again, and you shivered slightly, your chest rising and falling in heavy breaths as his hands slid down your back, pulling you even closer. When you pulled away, both of your breaths were uneven, your chest rising rapidly against his. Your lips were swollen, and slightly reddened, and without even thinking about it, you bit your lower lip, savoring the taste of Heeseung in your mouth. He stared at you. With those dark eyes that seemed to devour you. "Stop," he muttered, his voice low and slightly husky. You tilted your head, confused. "What?" you asked with your usual calculated innocence. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. "Stop biting your lip like that, it makes me want to kiss you again. And bite you."

A dangerous smile slowly spread across your lips. With absolute nonchalance, you reached out a hand, your fingers slipping through his soft hair, gently pulling him downward until his breath mingled once again with yours. Your voice became a warm whisper against his mouth. "Then why don’t you bite me?" His pupils dilated. You lowered your chin slightly, bringing his face even closer to your body. "Maybe… here?" you suggested innocently, brushing the edge of your bikini at your chest, the fabric stretching against your skin. Heeseung swallowed. The air around you thickened. "You’re playing with fire," he whispered. You tilted your head with a golden retriever girl look, your usual sweet smile on your lips. "What if I want to burn?" Heeseung clenched his jaw. He hated you. He hated you because he knew you were playing, testing his self-control, wanting to see how far he would go. But most of all, he hated that you were winning. His hand moved slowly, caressing your warm skin as it slid along your side, reaching the thin fabric of your bikini covering your breast, and you held your breath. His eyes found yours as his fingers gently grazed the curve of your chest, almost with reverence. "No one’s ever touched you here, have they?" he asked, his voice low and slightly raspy. You shook your head. He smiled faintly, his eyes igniting with a dangerous kind of desire. "I thought so." And then, slowly, he lowered his head, his warm breath brushing your skin. His mouth barely touched the fabric of your bikini where your nipple had hardened beneath the cloth. The first thing you felt was the heat of his lips, then the slight pressure of his teeth, nibbling gently, almost testing your reaction. A shiver ran through you, and then a sound escaped your lips. A muffled moan, a moan that contained his name. "Hee…" It was his undoing. Heeseung closed his eyes, his thoughts now completely clouded by desire. He had imagined you this many times beneath him. He had imagined you with flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and your warm body beneath his. He had imagined you with heavy breath, his name slipping from your lips in that sweet, innocent tone that drove him wild. But now? Now it was real. And damn, you were even more beautiful than he had imagined. Heeseung continued to lick and bite at the small bud still covered by your light bikini, and every time his mouth pushed and licked at the fabric, you arched your back, pulling his hair. You didn’t think that such a simple gesture could make you go wild and crave more, but Heeseung pulled away from your skin with one last bite on the taut bud of your breast, still covered by the bikini, and you shivered, the warmth of his breath making your skin tingle. Instinctively, your fingers tightened in his soft hair, pulling him slightly, and he fully pulled away, his Adam's apple moving as he swallowed slowly.

Then he sighed as if trying to regain control over himself.

"Raise your arms," he ordered in a tone that brooked no argument.

You looked at him with eyes still a little dreamy, your lips swollen from the kiss earlier.

"Why?"

He tilted his head, his gaze dropping for a moment to your bikini, still slightly damp. "Because if you stay like this in front of me, I might do something I shouldn’t."

Your skin heated. Despite his authoritative tone, his voice was slightly hoarse, and for a moment, you felt the urgency of his desire.

You bit your lip—which, of course, didn’t go unnoticed—and then slowly raised your arms above your head.

Heeseung slid his large shirt over you with a slow and careful gesture, as if trying not to touch you for too long. But when the fabric settled over your body, a faint smile brushed his lips.

You were beautiful.

His shirt was too big for you, the soft fabric sliding over your body, the sleeves reaching past your hands. The scent of Heeseung enveloped you instantly, a mix of light cologne and something more masculine, more his. You felt your cheeks warm slightly, suddenly shy, and he noticed, of course. Without missing a beat, he smiled sideways, one eyebrow slightly raised.

"So... today I discovered another secret," he said with a playful air.

You tilted your head, curious. "And what would that be?"

He chuckled softly, his voice low and velvety. "...that you’re not so innocent after all."

Your heart skipped a beat.

You looked at him, trying to figure out if he was joking, but in his eyes, there was only amusement—and something darker, more dangerous.

In a spontaneous gesture, you reached out and offered him your pinky.

He raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"Pinky swear," you said with a sweet smile.

He stared at you for a moment as if he couldn’t believe that, after everything that had happened, you were still you, the girl who always smiled and seemed to see the bright side of everything.

Then he smiled, shaking his head slightly before intertwining his pinky with yours.

"I won’t tell anyone," he promised.

✦

After a few minutes, you left the private room, and he led you to the romance section of the bookstore.

"I want to recommend something better," he said, running his fingers along the spines of the books.

"Better than what I've read so far?" you asked with a small smile.

He shot you a challenging look. "Let's see... this one is without any spice," he said, handing you a book with a pastel-colored cover and a sweet title.

You took it, slightly surprised. "Wow, so you think I need purer reading?"

He laughed, but didn't respond.

Instead, he grabbed another book and handed it to you, this time with a dark cover and an eye-catching font.

You looked at it more closely.

"Oh my God," you whispered, recognizing the title. "This is super spicy."

He smiled to the side. "But it’s also one of the best stories. Trust me."

Your eyes sparkled with excitement as you hugged both books to your chest.

Then you turned to him with your usual bright smile.

"Well, see you, Heeseung."

✦ Later, after a warm shower, you slipped under the covers with your hair still slightly damp. The book he recommended was already in your hands, but before opening it, you grabbed your phone. You hesitated for a moment, biting your lip, and then, without thinking too much, you typed his name on Instagram. Follow. The notification popped up on his profile right away. And you couldn't help but think about how stupid you'd been for never noticing him seriously before today.

The days had passed with the same routine: mornings dedicated to studying, afternoons at the beach with friends or relaxing in the pool at your villa, with the breathtaking view of the ocean. Yet, despite everything seeming perfect, there was one constant thought in your mind. Heeseung. You were too embarrassed to go back to the bookstore after what had happened, but at the same time... you wanted to get to know him more. You’d spent more time than necessary scrolling through his Instagram profile, browsing through pictures of him with his friends, images of him playing basketball, posts about his favorite video games, his travels, and his style—always a little effortless but terribly attractive. The more you watched, the more you felt a slight shiver of anxiety because, to be honest, you had never had a real crush on anyone before now. And that scared you, but if there was one thing you were good at, it was coming up with excuses. So, nonchalantly, you wrote to him on Instagram. - “Heyy, I forgot to order three books that were recommended to me! Can you bring them to me? Pls 🥺”

And he, after a few hours, responded: - “You’ll have to pay me double for the home delivery. 😉”

You smiled like an idiot in front of the screen. And now, here you were, lying on a poolside lounger, wearing sunglasses and a new swimsuit, when the voice of your maid made you lift your head. 'There’s a cute guy at the door with a package for you.' You immediately brightened up; your plan was working. You quickly tied the sheer sarong around your waist, leaving your purple bikini with daisies peeking out.

Above, you didn’t bother to cover yourself—just the bikini, sunglasses, and the smile of someone who knew exactly what they were doing. You walked calmly to the entrance, and when you saw him, you couldn’t hold back a small amused smile. Heeseung looked like a confused puppy. His eyes were wide as he observed the entrance of the villa, hands in his pockets, the look of someone who felt slightly out of place. When he noticed you, his cheeks turned a light shade of red. You were winning, Heeseung didn’t know what to say. He’d already seen you in a swimsuit, but now the situation was completely different. Here, in your villa, under the blazing sun, with your skin still damp from the pool and your mischievous smile, you seemed like you’d just stepped out of a forbidden dream, and his thoughts immediately turned dirty. Damn, you were perfect. The daisies on your bikini seemed deliberately placed to distract him, the sheer sarong did nothing but make him even more frustrated, and your damp hair fell perfectly on your shoulders, driving him crazy. “Do you like my villa, Hee?” you teased, tilting your head with an innocent air. He cleared his throat and nodded quickly. “Yeah... yeah, it’s very nice.” He handed you the envelope with your books, but you didn’t take it immediately. “In exchange, I’ll offer you a lemonade.” Heeseung raised an eyebrow, hesitant. “I don’t want to disturb you, I need to go back to the bookstore.” You ignored his excuse and, without giving him time to protest, grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him toward the pool. It was hot, his skin burning under your fingers, and when you reached the pool’s edge, you handed him a glass of iced lemonade and gave him a fake pout. “I’d be offended if you didn’t drink it and tell me what you think.” Heeseung let out a small smile. “Oh yeah? Are you that sensitive to criticism?” “Only the ones that matter to me,” you replied, winking at him. He shook his head, amused, and brought the glass to his lips. Bad, very bad, because you casually watched his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed, sweat running down his collarbone, and the way the sun highlighted every line of his muscular arms. When he finished, he looked at you with a mischievous grin. “I didn’t know you were also talented at making lemonade.” You burst out laughing. “Hee, do you realize what you just said?” He thought about it for a moment, then covered his face with his hand. “Shit, I didn’t mean to—” “Too late,” you teased, stretching out on the lounger, relaxed. He, however, seemed slightly uncomfortable—awkward, out of place. “You can sit here,” you said, pointing to the lounger next to yours. “I told you I have to—” “Heeseung, it’s August 15th,” you interrupted, taking off your sunglasses and looking him straight in the eyes. “No one is going to the bookstore today. And with this heat, are you sure you want to go back there?” For a moment, you thought he’d come up with another excuse, but instead— without thinking twice, he took off his shirt, and damn, Heeseung knew exactly what game you were playing. The problem? He was also really good at playing, but at the same time, he looked at you a little shyly.

You burst out laughing. “What’s wrong, Heeseung? Are you shy to take a swim with me?” He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest, but the redness on his cheeks betrayed him. “Your maid is here.” You raised an eyebrow, holding back a mischievous smile. “So?” Heeseung stiffened slightly, avoiding your gaze. That’s when you understood. “Oh my God,” you chuckled, giving his bicep a light tap. “And you’d be the innocent one, huh?” He scratched the back of his neck, biting the inside of his cheek. “I didn’t say I was innocent.” You looked at him for a moment, your smile becoming even more amused. “No, indeed. You’re not innocent at all.” Without saying another word, you untied your sarong and slowly slipped it off, knowing full well that Heeseung’s eyes were glued to you. He swallowed. Damn, you were incredible. You sat on the edge of the pool, letting your legs slide into the cool water, letting the sun kiss your skin. Heeseung didn’t move, he looked petrified. “So?” you pressed, swinging your feet in the water. You didn’t give him time to say anything else. You slid into the pool, diving in with an innate elegance. It was your element, and when you started swimming underwater, you decided to push it further, moving agilely between the bubbles, holding your breath for longer than usual, hiding among the reflections in the pool. When did you surface? You didn’t. And that’s when Heeseung started to worry. His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowed, and without thinking twice, he dove in. Underwater, you saw him coming towards you—fast, strong. His movements were precise, fluid, and for a second, you got distracted watching him, but then you decided to have some fun. With a sudden flick, you slipped behind his back, and before he could react, you grabbed him and pulled him backward. He opened his eyes underwater, surprised. When he resurfaced, you were there, your face lit up by a radiant smile. “Are you crazy?” he gasped, trying to catch his breath. “Don’t exaggerate, Hee. I was just playing,” you replied, chuckling. He shook his head, running a hand over his wet face. “How the hell do you hold your breath for so long?” You shrugged. “Like you love basketball, I love everything to do with water.” He looked at you intently, and for the first time, he seemed genuinely fascinated. Drops slid down his face, his wet fringe falling on his forehead, his lips slightly chapped from the sun, and damn—those shoulders, those muscles, everything about him seemed sculpted to perfection. You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from staring too much, but it was impossible. Without thinking, you reached out and ruffled his hair, laughing. “You’re gorgeous, Heeseung.” He froze. He cleared his throat, trying to cover up the little cough that slipped out. “What?” You smiled, amused by his reaction. “You heard me perfectly.” He lowered his gaze, biting the inside of his cheek. “No girl has ever told me something like that.” You were surprised. “Really?” He nodded, shyly. “Well,” you shrugged. “I was just telling the truth.” Before he could reply, you dove again, swimming to the other side of the pool with the grace of a mermaid. When you turned around, he was still there. Motionless, staring at you. You leaned against the edge of the pool and shouted, “Are you going to stay there stuck for the rest of your life, or are you going to come closer?” It was like you had woken him up from a dream, his eyes darkened, his expression hardened, and then—he moved. He swam towards you with determination, with an intensity that made you hold your breath. When he arrived in front of you, you found yourself pressed against the pool’s edge, and him? He was so close that you could feel the warmth of his body contrasting with the cool water.

The light touch of your fingers along the contours of his face made him tense for a moment. With the tip of your index finger, you traced the line of his jaw, then moved up to his lips, barely brushing them.

"You know I like them?" you whispered, your eyes locked onto his.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain his usual aloof attitude, but the redness on his ears betrayed him. "What?"

"Your lips," you replied with a mischievous smile.

He cleared his throat, lowering his gaze for a moment. "Ah."

You bit the inside of your cheek, amused. "And do you like mine?"

Heeseung remained silent for a second, then shook his head with a smirk. "Too confident."

"Answer," you pressed, tilting your head slightly.

He stared at you for a few seconds, but instead of answering immediately, he lifted a hand and began to touch you gently.

"Your hair," he murmured, twirling a curly strand between his fingers. "I like it."

He playfully pinched the curl, making you laugh.

"Your eyes," he continued, lowering his lashes as his fingers traced the curve of yours. "Your lashes are long, almost annoyingly perfect."

His fingertip slid down the bridge of your nose. "Your little nose too," he added, tracing its shape with a light, barely perceptible touch.

And finally, he reached your lips. His thumb slowly glided along your lower lip, stopping right at the center.

"Your lips," he said, his voice slightly huskier. "I’d want to kiss them all the time."

A shiver ran down your spine, but you couldn't let him win that easily. You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be unfazed. "And?"

Heeseung smirked.

"Too much attention for just one girl, don't you think?"

You shrugged with a playful smile. "Maybe I deserve it."

He narrowed his eyes slightly, tilting his head. "Maybe."

And then—he ran a finger along the side of your neck, his touch barely there on your wet skin.

He brought his lips close to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin. "Your neck," he murmured. "Because I want to kiss it and mark you."

A shiver shot down your spine, and fuck, Heeseung noticed—but he didn’t stop. His fingers slid slowly along your collarbone, then lower, brushing over the soft curve of your breast.

He barely touched it before pressing slightly, increasing the tension.

"This," he said in a low, deep voice, his touch almost hypnotic. "I’ve already bitten and kissed it."

He lifted his gaze to you, and in his eyes, there was something dark, something possessive.

"But I want to hear you moan my name while I do it again."

Your breath hitched in your throat. Damn.

His fingers trailed lower, moving down your stomach, while his warm breath ghosted over your neck. Then, he reached the edge of your swimsuit—but stopped there. His finger played with the fabric, teasing, waiting. And you realized—he wanted to see how far you were willing to push him.

You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smirk. "What's wrong, Hee? Did you freeze up?"

Heeseung lifted his gaze to meet yours, his dark eyes burning into you.

"Careful, Y/N," he murmured, his voice deep and rough. "You love playing with fire too much."

Your arms wrapped around his neck as your legs instinctively locked around his waist. His breath hitched slightly, his eyes widening—not in shock, but in intrigue. His chest rose and fell faster, as if your touch alone was testing his self-control.

Then, without giving him time to react, you tilted your head and started kissing his neck, feeling his muscles tense under your lips.

"Y/N..." he whispered, his voice a mix of warning and want—but you didn’t stop.

If anything, you leaned in closer, brushing a soft kiss near his earlobe—and that’s when you heard it.

A low, strangled groan escaped his lips as his arms instinctively tightened around your waist, fingers digging into your damp skin.

A victorious smirk played on your lips before you went back to his neck, kissing and lightly biting that one spot you knew was his weakness.

"Hee," you teased, your voice nothing but a whisper. "I like your lips too."

You felt his jaw clench, as if he was struggling to hold himself back, but his hands gripped your hips even tighter.

Then, with innocent mischief, you leaned into his ear and whispered, "Lie down."

He raised an eyebrow, studying you—but you simply took his hand and led him toward the lounge chairs near the pool entrance.

He thought you were the one who wanted to lie down—only for you to push him back gently, making him settle onto the warm chair.

Heeseung looked up at you, his chest still rising and falling unevenly.

"And what exactly do you think you're doing?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

You sat on the edge of the chair, the heat of the stone searing lightly against your skin.

"Studying," you replied with a playful smile—before lowering your head and beginning to kiss him.

First on his chest, leaving soft kisses and teasing bites as you traced his skin. Then, you moved lower, trailing kisses along his toned abs, and—damn.

For a bookworm who spent most of his time in the library, his body was surprisingly well-defined.

You looked up at him, biting your lip. "How the hell does a nerd—okay, fine, a basketball-playing nerd—have a body like this?"

He let out a low chuckle, trying to keep his composure. "Did you expect me to be some scrawny guy with glasses and a plaid shirt?"

"A little bit, yeah," you admitted, laughing.

"Library or not, I work out. I don’t spend all my time reading romance novels like you do."

You raised an eyebrow at his little jab, amused.

"Doesn’t seem like you mind," you shot back before kissing him again.

Your lips trailed further down his skin, reaching his navel—and right at that moment, Heeseung tensed up again

"Y/N, stop," he said, his voice lower now, wrapped in a veil of tension.

You stopped, lifting your gaze to meet his with a teasing smile. "Why?"

His jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as he stared at you intensely.

"Because if you keep going, I won’t be able to stop."

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, but instead of intimidating you, it only urged you to tease him more. Slowly, you lowered your hand, letting your fingers trail along the waistband of his swim trunks.

Heeseung held his breath. You looked up at him with a falsely innocent gaze.

"Like this?"

In an instant, he gently pushed you backward onto the lounge chair, making you lose balance for a second. His body hovered over yours, his hands framing your face, his dark eyes locked onto yours.

And this time, he was the one to kiss you first.

His lips pressed against yours with a softness that contrasted the firm way he had pushed you down. It was a slow kiss, but it carried something deeper—something possessive.

Heeseung wasn’t just kissing you—he was exploring, savoring, claiming every inch of your lips.

A faint moan escaped your throat as the sweet taste of lemonade mixed with his, making everything more intense, more electric. Your fingers tangled in his damp hair, pulling him even closer.

Heeseung felt your body press against his, your breath melding with his, and in that moment, he realized—this was better.

Better than all the filthy dreams he had about you. Better than any fantasy that had kept him awake at night, picturing you beneath him, moaning his name.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes roamed over your flushed face, your swollen lips parted slightly as you caught your breath.

"You’re beautiful," he whispered, his thumb tracing the outline of your mouth.

You lowered your gaze, a shy smile playing on your lips. "Will you say that again?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I bet you hear it every day."

You shook your head, ruffling his hair with your fingers. "It’s the first time someone has said it without jealousy or ulterior motives."

Heeseung frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

You bit your lip, trying to gather your thoughts. "Girls usually resent me for it, and guys… well, the compliments I get are always shallow. No one’s ever looked at me the way you do."

For a moment, Heeseung remained silent. Then, with a small smile, he lowered his gaze and absentmindedly traced soft patterns along your side.

"So, what you’re saying is… I’m special?" he asked, a mischievous lilt in his voice.

You scoffed, feeling warmth creep up your neck. "Don’t turn this into an ego boost."

He chuckled, but his smile turned softer. "Too late, sweetheart."

You stiffened slightly.

"Sweetheart?" you repeated, surprised.

Heeseung noticed your reaction and tilted his head in amusement. "I can’t call you that?"

You weren’t entirely sure why, but hearing that nickname from him sent a shiver down your spine. You gave him a small nod, avoiding his gaze out of embarrassment.

"Can I ask you something?" you asked, hoping your voice wouldn’t betray too much emotion.

Heeseung stared at you for a moment before nodding. "Tell me." His dark eyes studied you, and the mix of embarrassment and boldness in your expression made him realize you were about to ask something intimate.

His fingers on your waist stilled, his thumb tracing slow circles on your still-damp skin.

You lowered your gaze, biting your lip. Your hands fidgeted nervously, but there was determination in your posture. "I… I’ve never been touched there. Only by myself."

Heeseung’s pupils dilated slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

It was strange—he was usually the one who always knew what to say, the one with a teasing remark ready to throw at you. But now? Now he was completely thrown off.

"You…" he started, but then stopped, wetting his lips.

You lifted your gaze and, barely above a whisper, confessed, "I was wondering if… if you wanted to."

Silence. The only sounds were the distant crashing of waves and the frantic beating of your heart against your ribs.

Heeseung clenched his jaw, his gaze locked onto yours. For a moment, he almost looked conflicted. Then, moving slowly, he lowered his face closer to yours, his nose brushing against yours.

"Sweetheart," he whispered against your lips, his voice deeper than you’d ever heard it, "you do realize that if you say something like that to me… I won’t be able to hold back, right?"

Heeseung watched you from above with a mischievous grin, his dark eyes fixed on your still damp body. The costume adhered to your skin, making you feel even more exposed under his watchful gaze. He ran his tongue over his lips and leaned toward you, his fingers moving light on your thighs, barely touching you, enough to make you shudder. "Lie a little lower, pretty.” His voice was low, hoarse, an order disguised as a request. His hand gently pressed on your belly to guide you backwards. “I want to touch you better.” Nod without much thought, cheeks burning with anticipation.

He smiled, pleased. "Good girl," he whispered, sliding his finger along the edge of your bikini. "But remember that you can stop me whenever you want.” You nodded again, but you already knew that you would never do it. Her lips settled on the skin of your thighs, first with slow and soft kisses, then with small bites that made you wince.

His warm breath mingled with the cool pool air as his fingers drew invisible lines on your thighs. He caught you off guard when he looked down and whistled softly. "Cute... this is not pool water.” You opened your eyes wide, a shiver down your spine. "C-What?” Heeseung chuckled, a deep, cheeky sound, and slowly lowered the edge of your purple costume.

“Look. Are you so wet just because I touched and kissed you a little? Are you always so responsive?” You covered your face with your hands, embarrassed. “It never happened to me...”

He shook his head and with a quick movement gently took your wrists, moving your hands away from your face. His gaze became darker, more intense. “Don't hide.” His voice was more authoritarian now, deep and slow. “I want you to remember that the first one to make you feel that way was me.”

Your throat tightened, your breath trembled. His eyes did not leave your face, and you felt every inch of your skin catch fire under his gaze. He was grumpy, authoritarian and arrogant. And yet, you knew you never wanted to run away from him. Heeseung slid his fingers lower, touching your clit with slow, provocative movements. Your body reacted immediately, your hips involuntarily arched towards him, looking for more clutch.

"How cute," Heeseung muttered, looking at you with greedy eyes. "Before you were so cheeky, now what? Where did the girl he was taunting in the bookstore and the pool go?” You glanced at him, biting your lower lip. “I'm still here”

you replied, with a twinge of voice. He sneered. "Oh yes? Then show me.” And without giving you time to answer, he slid a finger into you. A groan escaped from your lips as your body adapted to the new feeling, unlike anything you had ever experienced. Your fingers had never been able to make you feel like this, and you knew it too.

“So tight, pretty, " he muttered, his voice a mixture of excitement and pure adoration. “And so wet just for me. Are you enjoying it?” He nodded frantically, unable to form words.

He chuckled. “Speak. I want to hear from you.” he whispered against your skin, adding another finger and increasing the pace. You felt like you were going to go crazy, and when his mouth drooped to graze your clit with your tongue, you screamed his name without even realizing it.

He moaned at you, the sound vibrating against your sensitive skin. "Damn, pretty you're already losing your slimy cum and you haven't even come between my fingers and between my lips,”

the muttered before returning to work your mouth and pump more of his long fingers inside your poor shiny cunt that he divinely took. His touch, his tongue, everything was too much, too intense, he caught you off guard when he pinched your breasts still covered by the bikini, and the pleasure completely overwhelmed you. Your hands found his hair and you pulled it hard as your body trembled under his touch.

You came moaning his name, no longer ashamed. Heeseung slowly peeled off, licking his lips with a satisfied look. He looked at you as you tried to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling frantically. "Beautiful," he muttered, running a finger down your leg. “And this time I want you to remember it well.”

The end-of-summer party had been organized by the student council on the open part of the beach. From your house’s terrace, you could already see the soft glow of the bonfires, the shadows of people laughing and dancing, the sound of the waves blending with the music playing in the background. The sky, however, wasn’t completely clear—shades of pink and white intertwined with deeper tones of violet, creating an almost magical atmosphere.

You quickly checked your phone: no rain forecast. Perfect.

You slipped into your sparkly butterfly top, paired with a bralette that was both sexy and sweet—just like you. A flowy white skirt brushed against your legs, and delicate sandals adorned your feet. Your curly hair cascaded over your shoulders, with two small braids framing your face. You looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled—you felt beautiful. But maybe, just maybe, you wanted to look beautiful for someone in particular.

For Heeseung.

You arrived at the party with a confident stride, immediately welcomed by the warmth of the crowd. Friends greeted you, laughter filled the air, and the salty scent of the sea mixed with the smoky aroma of burning wood. But as you talked, your eyes wandered, unconsciously searching for someone.

Lisa, of course, noticed right away. 'Looking for someone in particular?' she asked with a teasing smile.

You shook your head a little too quickly. “N-No! Just… looking around.”

Emma crossed her arms. -Mmmh, sure. Then why do your eyes keep landing in the same spot?-

You swallowed, trying to play it cool, but then—your heart skipped a beat.

There, near the shoreline, illuminated by the warm glow of the bonfires, stood Heeseung.

He was wearing a white shirt that highlighted the slight golden hue of his skin, paired with dark jeans that fit his tall, lean frame perfectly. His hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d run his fingers through it more than once. He was talking to Jay and Sunghoon, laughing from time to time, but… he wasn’t alone.

Next to him, a girl was clearly trying to monopolize his attention. She laughed dramatically at everything he said, touched his arm with too much familiarity, and tilted her head to the side every time she spoke.

And Heeseung?

He didn’t seem particularly interested—but he wasn’t pulling away either.

A faint sting prickled in your chest. It wasn’t jealousy… right?

You had never been jealous in your life—perhaps because you had never truly liked someone before. But now, with your eyes fixed on the scene in front of you, a faint burn crept from your stomach to your chest.

As if drawn by an invisible force, you turned to your friends. “I’m just going to say hi to someone.”

Lisa and Emma exchanged a knowing glance before nodding with amused smiles. You could hear their whispered comments behind you, but you paid them no mind. You had other things to focus on.

Walking confidently across the soft sand, you approached Heeseung’s bonfire and his group of friends. But instead of heading straight to him, you stopped nearby, pretending to be interested in something else entirely.

From there, you could hear the conversation clearly.

And just as you’d suspected, that girl was blatantly flirting with him.

“Anyway,” she licked her lips, tilting her head to the side, “I just can’t believe you’re still single, Heeseung.”

He cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair, already visibly uncomfortable. “Uh… yeah, well… it’s not that—”

She laughed, cutting him off. “No, seriously, it’s crazy! I mean, look at you.” She placed a hand on his shoulder with far too much familiarity. “Tall, handsome, those dark eyes… And I heard you play basketball, so I bet there’s a nice body under that shirt, huh?”

Jay and Sunghoon exchanged amused glances as Heeseung blushed slightly, lowering his head.

“Uh… I just play for fun, nothing serious,” he murmured, trying to downplay it.

She giggled again, stepping a little closer. “Oh, sure, sure. But I bet you’re super competitive, aren’t you? Guys like you always are. Tell me, what if we played… one-on-one? If I win, you buy me a drink. If you win… well, we’ll figure something out.”

Her voice had dropped lower, turning more suggestive.

You rolled your eyes.

How much longer did you have to endure this?

Letting out a small huff, tired of the conversation, you decided to step in.

With a mischievous smile, you approached Heeseung—just like you had done at the pool.

Wrapping your arms around his back, you completely caught him off guard.

His whole body tensed for a second before he spun around, eyes wide, his face turning an instant shade of red.

“Oh,” he stammered, visibly taken aback.

And the way he was looking at you… was exactly what you wanted.

His gaze traveled over you slowly, almost as if he didn’t know where to stop. The sparkly top highlighting your shoulders, the light skirt fluttering around your legs… your skin glowing under the firelight. He swallowed dryly, running a nervous hand through his hair yet again.

“Hey, Hee,” you greeted him with a sweet smile, laced with that teasing tone you knew always made him flustered.

“H-Hey…” he replied, dropping his gaze for a brief moment before bringing it back to you.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” you tilted your head to the side, feigning innocence.

The girl next to him looked at you with an expression teetering between surprise and annoyance.

“No, no,” Heeseung quickly interjected—too quickly. “We were just… uh…”

“Yes?” you smiled again, watching the way he bit the inside of his cheek, clearly flustered.

Jay chuckled quietly beside him, while Sunghoon covered his mouth to hide his amusement.

Heeseung cleared his throat, trying to collect himself, but the blush on his cheeks wasn’t going anywhere.

You, on the other hand, simply looked at him with soft amusement. Because you knew that, shy as he was, he would never back down from the game.

And indeed, after taking a deep breath, his eyes grew a little more certain.

“You have perfect timing,” he murmured with a hint of a smile. “I was just about to ask someone to save me.”

You burst into laughter while the girl next to him crossed her arms, visibly annoyed.

“Oh, so I’m your savior now?” you shot him a playful look.

He ran a hand over the back of his neck. “I could get used to it.”

When you asked if he wanted to take a walk by the shore, he didn’t hesitate for even a second.

“Of course.” Then, without giving you a chance to say anything else, he grabbed your wrist and started walking, gently pulling you along with him.

The warmth of his skin against yours made you shiver slightly, but you tried not to let it show.

The sound of the party gradually faded as you walked away, leaving only the gentle crash of the waves against the shore and the soft creaking of the wooden pier beneath your feet.

“I never thought I’d see you dressed like this,” Heeseung murmured, breaking the silence.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “And what exactly does that mean?”

He turned to look at you, with that usual mix of embarrassment and boldness in his gaze. Then, he ran a hand through his hair—a clear sign he was searching for the right words.

“It means that…” his eyes lowered slightly, scanning you carefully. “That you look beautiful.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to hide your smile.

“Oh? That’s already the third or fourth time you’ve said that.”

He let out a quiet laugh, lowering his head. “So what? You want me to stop?”

You shook your head, crossing your arms. “No, but at this point, you could at least switch up the compliments.”

He leaned in ever so slightly, tilting his head to the side. “Alright. Then can I tell you that you’re driving me crazy dressed like this?”

His voice was lower now, deeper, and the way he was looking at you sent a shiver down your spine.

You felt his hand graze your waist, warm against your bare skin.

You swallowed. “Better, definitely more original.”

He barely smiled. “See? I know how to tease too.”

You bit your lip, looking at him with playful amusement. “So, do you prefer me… or the girl you were flirting with?”

Heeseung scoffed, his expression almost irritated. “Flirting? Are you serious?”

His grip on your waist tightened slightly, making you gasp.

“She was the one flirting,” he continued, lowering his voice just a little. “Not me.”

He held your gaze for a few seconds before slowly leaning down toward your ear. His breath brushed against your skin.

“I’d choose you over any other girl.”

Your stomach tightened. Then, with an even softer whisper, he added:

“I’ve had so many dirty thoughts about you that I don’t even know what’s real anymore.”

Your breath caught for a second. You tried to compose yourself, but your cheeks were burning. So, to distract yourself, you teased him about something you knew would work.

“You’re too tall,” you muttered, looking up at him.

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “And you’re too small.”

You huffed, giving him a light push on the chest.

He chuckled. “If you want, I can bend down.”

And as he said it, he slowly lowered himself until your faces were just inches apart.

“Better like this?” he whispered.

Heeseung noticed that you were trembling slightly.

Without a word, he slipped off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders with a slow, almost absentminded motion.

You looked up at him, gripping the fabric between your fingers. “Well, aren’t you a gentleman.”

He shrugged, feigning indifference. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

You giggled, pulling the jacket tighter around you. “And yet, you don’t really seem like the type to worry so much.”

He was about to answer when a loud clap of thunder shattered the silence, making both of you jump.

Then, as if the sky had been waiting for the perfect moment, small raindrops began to fall, cold against your skin, still warm from the party.

You burst into laughter.

“Well, I guess it’s fate,” you exclaimed, grabbing his wrist and pulling him along with you.

Heeseung let himself be dragged without resistance, laughing softly as you ran along the beach, the rain growing heavier by the second.

“Every time we see each other, we always end up in the water!” you shouted, squeezing his hand and picking up the pace.

He shook his head, amused. “Maybe it’s a sign.”

You both laughed again, not stopping until you reached the small gazebo on your property.

Without thinking twice, he grabbed your waist and pulled you into a sudden embrace.

You felt his chest rise and fall against yours. His breathing was still uneven from the run.

Instead of pulling away, you lifted a hand and tousled his wet hair. “You’re soaked.”

He scoffed quietly. “So are you.”

Your gaze drifted down to his wet shirt, now completely see-through and clinging to his body.

You bit your lip without even realizing it.

“Okay… I have to admit,” you said, tracing a finger from his biceps down to his abs. “This shirt looks ridiculously good on you.”

Your fingers lightly brushed the skin beneath the fabric, cold and featherlight.

Heeseung shivered just slightly.

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

You looked up at him with that innocent expression he knew was anything but innocent. “Nothing.”

He knew you were playing.

But he didn’t expect what happened next.

You rose onto your tiptoes and, without hesitation, kissed him.

The kiss was sweet at first, slow and uncertain.

Your lips moved against his with an almost maddening gentleness, as if you wanted to savor him slowly, without rushing.

He gave in immediately, closing his eyes and resting his hands on your waist, gripping you lightly.

But then he felt your tongue barely graze his, a soft caress that made him let out a quiet moan against your lips—and everything changed.

The kiss deepened, becoming hungrier. His hands tightened on you, pulling you against him as his chest rose and fell unevenly.

Your body pressed perfectly against his, the soaked fabric leaving no space between you.

When you finally pulled away, he was panting slightly, his forehead resting against yours.

But then, with a smile that was both mischievous and impossibly sweet, you whispered:

“I want you.”

Heeseung froze, his eyes widening slightly, his fingers—once gently caressing your waist—now going still.

He stared at you, trying to understand if he had heard you correctly.

Okay. Okay, one thing was making up fantasies about you. One thing was touching himself in the shower while thinking about you. But now?

Now it was you—the girl everyone wanted, the sweetest girl he’d ever met—the one who teased him but also smiled at him with such innocent warmth—you were the one saying you wanted him.

And suddenly, he couldn’t think straight anymore.

Heeseung looked into your eyes, his breathing still uneven from the kiss.

“Are you messing with me?” he asked, his voice slightly hoarse, that low tone making you shiver.

You shook your head, biting your lip. “No.”

You took his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and pulled him inside.

You could feel him behind you, his steps slow but heavy as you climbed the stairs. When you crossed the threshold of your bedroom, you felt his gaze land on every little detail of your world.

He looked around, curious. Your books stacked on the nightstand, the small trinkets scattered across your desk, the photos taped to the wall, illuminated by the soft, warm glow of fairy lights.

Suddenly, you felt shy.

You didn’t know why, but the fact that he was here, in your most intimate space, made you feel vulnerable.

Slowly, you turned toward him, lowering your gaze.

“Do you want me too?” you asked softly, almost whispering, unable to look at him.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, you heard a quiet sigh, followed by a smile.

“All of a sudden, you’re shy?”

You felt his fingers brush against your chin, gently lifting your face to meet his gaze. His eyes were darker now, his expression serious—but amused at the same time.

“What happened to the girl who wouldn’t stop teasing me?”

You blushed even more, and he chuckled softly.

“Cute,” he murmured, lowering his face toward your ear. “I’ve dreamed about this moment for months.”

A shiver ran down your spine.

He tilted his head, his nose grazing your skin as his hands slid down to your waist.

“Every time I saw you, every time you laughed, every time you looked at me with those eyes…” His voice dropped lower as he pressed a soft kiss to your earlobe. “…I became obsessed.”

Your breath hitched.

His hands traveled back up, gripping your waist slightly. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

You turned slightly toward him, your heart pounding in your chest.

He smiled, but his eyes were dark, filled with something deeper.

“But do you know what I like the most?” he whispered, his lips just barely brushing against yours.

You swallowed, shaken by the way his body pressed against yours. “What…?”

He smirked, tilting his head.

“The fact that with me, you’ve let yourself go.”

He kissed your neck, his lips warm against your skin, still damp from the rain.

“The sweet girl that everyone loves…” His hands slid down your back, touching you with an agonizing slowness. “…but with me, she loves to tease.”

His teeth grazed your skin lightly, making you shiver.

And then, in a deeper voice, he added:

“You know something?”

You swallowed hard, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt his lips trace down your jawline.

He smiled against your skin.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve fantasized about you.”

Your breath caught.

“How many times I’ve touched myself thinking about you.”

Your eyes snapped open, heat surging through your body.

Heeseung pulled back just slightly, watching your reaction with an amused smirk.

“Does that embarrass you?”

You shook your head quickly. “No.”

He chuckled. “You’re adorable when you try to act tough.”

Then, with a more commanding tone, he grabbed the hem of his soaked shirt and lifted it slightly.

“If you really want me,” he whispered, his eyes locked onto yours, “then take it off.”

You took off his shirt without saying a word, your hands sliding over his warm skin as you brought your lips to his neck. You began kissing him softly, letting yourself go with small bites and gentle sucks, feeling his breath grow heavier. He chuckled amusedly and, with a provocative smile, asked:

“Where did you learn these things?”

You looked up, a flash of challenge in your eyes.

“From the books you recommended to me this summer.”

His laugh filled the room, vibrant and genuine, as he teased you in return. But you didn’t stop. You continued down, your lips grazing his collarbone, then his chest, lingering on his nipples. He bit his lip, his breath becoming shorter. You went lower, your lips tracing a slow, deliberate path down his abs, until they brushed against the sensitive skin around his belly button. A soft moan escaped him, and you saw him run a hand through his hair. By now, you had learned to recognize those small gestures: he did that when he was impatient... or shy.

Your hands held him gently at the waist as you looked up at him from below, a mischievous smile on your lips.

“I’m a little embarrassed… I’ve never done anything like this with anyone before.”

He lowered his gaze to you, his face a mix of sweetness and desire.

“You can take all the time you want with me. I want you to be sure.”

Those words warmed your chest, but a shiver ran through you when you felt the damp fabric of your top against your skin. You looked him in the eyes, biting your lip.

“Then… take it off.”

He didn’t need any more words. He didn’t even let you finish the sentence before he slid the fabric down your arms. As your top fell to the floor, he whispered, with a genuine smile and eyes full of admiration:

“You’re beautiful.”

When Heeseung saw your bralette, a playful grin tugged at his lips. His eyes lingered on the thin lace that covered your chest, and with a finger, he traced slow circles on the fabric, barely touching you.

“You’re too cute like this… so innocent, it makes me want to make you blush even more.”

The heat rose to your face, but you didn’t have time to reply, because his mouth immediately found your neck, sucking with an intensity that made you shiver. His hands moved confidently over you, and before you knew it, the bra was gone. He pulled back slightly to look at you, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

“Finally... I’ve been dying to touch them.”

The way he said it made you instinctively clench your thighs together, but he noticed and laughed, biting his lip. Then, without giving you a chance to react, he gently pushed you onto the bed and positioned himself above you. His mouth wasted no time, moving down to torment your breasts with bites and sucks, intensifying the heat inside you.

A small moan escaped you as his body slid against yours, and you clearly felt his arousal press against your sensitive center. The contact made you shiver, and without thinking too much, you murmured: "I feel ... your length..."

For a moment, Hee stopped. Then he burst out laughing, raising his head to look at you with an incredulous and amused expression. "Length?!"he repeated, amused. "Do you really call it that? Why are you always so adorably naive?" His tone was full of mischief as he lowered his voice and his pelvis barely moved against yours, making you gasp again. "

Say it right, baby." he whispered against your ear, slowly biting your lobe. "They say fuck." You bit your lip, your face on fire, but he had no intention of letting you go without hearing it from you.

Hee peppered you with kisses along the body, descending further and further down until it reached your navel. He paused for a moment, looking up at you with a mischievous smile. "Can I take off your skirt?"he asked in a hoarse voice.

A shiver ran through your back. Without hesitation, you raised your hips slightly as a sign of assent, and he, with a satisfied smile, slowly slid the fabric down your legs. He whistled quietly, but his attitude changed as soon as he saw what you were wearing underneath. His eyes darkened, his expression became more intense, almost possessive.

"A thong?" His voice dropped an octave as his fingers grazed the thin fabric. "And for whom did you put it?" You shrugged your shoulders with a sly smile, without immediately answering, but your provocation made him lose his temper. Without warning, his hand struck your thigh with a firm slap, making you wince.

"Hee!" his name eluded you in a small surprised cry. "Who did you put it for?" he repeated, the more authoritarian tone this time. You looked down, biting your lip, before whispering softly: "Just for you."

His smile returned, more smug than ever. "Mh ... and tell me, do you like it?"you added in a playful voice. "I have a dozen like that..." As soon as those words came out of your mouth, Hee snorted quietly, shaking his head with a mixture of disbelief and pure desire.

"Damn, y /n..." he laughed, but his gaze was loaded with something deeper. He teased you with a few more jokes, but his mouth wasted no time. He began to kiss you over the thong, brushing every inch of bare skin, making you arch under him. One of his hands slid under you, firmly grabbing your bottom and clasping against you. His breaths were heavy, his control almost nonexistent.

"I'll ruin you..." he muttered in a low voice, his lips touching your skin as he spoke. "I've been obsessed with you for months."

His teeth pulled the rubber band of the thong flat before sliding it off. He whistled again when he noticed how wet you were. He looked up at you, a flash of pure adoration in his eyes.

"Even wetter than that time in the pool..." he whispered with a crooked smile. You bit your lip, trying to hide the embarrassment, but with a thread of voice you told him: "Just for you, Hee." And his last crumb of control faded completely.

His hands explored every inch of your warm skin. His eyes, dark and full of desire, rested on your center now lit by his touch. He ran a finger along the still damp fabric of the thong he had just moved and smiled. "If you really want to lose your virginity to me, I have to prepare you well."His voice was low, hoarse. "But you need to relax… and most importantly trust me."

You looked at him with a defiant smile, trying to play with him as always. "Who said I was tense?" But Hee wasn't in the mood for your little games, not this time. "Don't be smart, Y/ n." he replied in an authoritarian tone, and without warning, he shoved a finger inside you. A gasp ran through you as you clutched the sheets in your hands,the breath breaking. "Be… it's beautiful…" you could say, biting your lip. He giggled quietly, his gaze full of fun. "Oh, yes? Then you could get another one, don't you think?" And without waiting for an answer, he added a second, slowly moving them inside you, making you feel every inch of their presence. The heat enveloped you, your body instinctively moved against his hand, while he laughed quietly, amused by your reaction.

"Look… you're making my fingers touch you so well. What will you do when it's my cock inside you?" His dirty words made your face burn, but the pleasure growing inside you was too strong to think of any answer. Then, in a slow and precise motion, he slid his thumb over your most sensitive point, barely pinching it. A cry escaped from your lips. "Hee—!" "Are you close?" he asked with a satisfied smile. He nodded frantically, his body trembling under his touch. But his gaze suddenly became more authoritarian as he slowed down his movements. "Don't even try." His voice was an order. "You have to be ready for me, so I'll add another one." "No—wait -" But he ignored your protest, pushing a third finger into you. A wave of pleasure swept over you, your back arched as your body adjusted to the feeling of being so wonderfully filled. You could feel the moisture sliding down his fingers, your white, slimy excitement shining on his skin. Your hands ran to his hair, pulling it hard, desperately trying to hold on to something as your body completely surrendered to him. Hee smiled against your skin, his voice a whisper full of satisfaction.

"Now you can come." And those words were enough to make you completely lose control. The pleasure exploded within you, and his name escaped you in a cry as your body trembled under his touch.

Your body was still shaking, your breath broken as the wave of pleasure slowly subsided. But Hee didn't give you a moment to recover. You felt missed when you saw him stooping between your legs, his lips touching your still sensitive skin. And then, without any hesitation, his tongue slipped on you, collecting every trace of your excitement. A groan eluded you as the warmth of his breath caressed you.

"You're so sweet..."he whispered, looking at you with bright eyes. "I'm lucky I was the first to taste you. And it will only be so, forever." You stammered something, your brain still clouded with pleasure.

"I ... you ... Hee -" but you couldn't even make a sensible sentence. He laughed softly, his gaze full of fun and desire. Without saying anything, he pulled himself up, his hands running to the edge of his pants. When he slid them down, revealing his Calvin Klein box Hee noticed your gaze fixed on him and tilted his head with a smirk.

"Oh? Are you embarrassed for so little?" Then, however, his tone changed slightly, becoming more serious.

"Y/n ... are you sure?" You met his eyes and nodded without hesitation. "Yes, I want it." He smiled contentedly and confidently took your hand, guiding it to the edges of his boxer.

"Then take them off." The heat of his order hit you right in the stomach. Your fingers shook slightly as you grabbed the rubber band and slowly lowered it. And then, as soon as the fabric slipped off, its member snapped free, revealing itself in front of you. It was really big, slightly pinkish, with a thin patina of desire that shone on the tip. Swallow, trying to dampen the tension with a shy smile.

"Well ... I definitely didn't expect it that way."

Hee laughed softly, shaking his head. "Are you kidding me now?" Then, he lowered his voice slightly. "You want to touch him?" The heat that enveloped you was almost unbearable. But, without taking your eyes off his, nodded.

"Yes…" As soon as your fingers brushed him, you felt his warm, taut skin under your touch. Hee tilted his head back, a low groan escaping from his lips.

"If you continue like this..." he muttered with a crooked smile. "I may not last as long as I want." You bit your lip, enjoying his reaction, then looked up at him.

"Then...before fucking me can you tease me a little the entrance to fit me slightly?" He looked at you for a moment, his gaze becoming even darker. "For you, anything."

His hands slid over your thighs, slowly opening them. Your heart beat faster when you felt its hot tip touch your slimy folds. Both groaned at the same time, the electrical contact, a mixture of expectation and pure desire. Hee approached your ear, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Are you ready for me?"

His cock began to slightly tease your slimy cunt and you moaned at the inward sensation of his cock teasing your entrance, Hee looked at you intently and felt that you were still slightly tight and he wanted your first time to be perfect.

"Dear, give me your hand, if you feel that it hurts too much you squeeze it and you can also tell me to stop if it's too much"

You nodded as you felt more and more of his cock sliding inside you but he wanted to hear you say it in your voice. "rispond Y/n, answer me, I want to hear that beautiful voice not a simple gesture with the head!" you took his hand and told him that you would do it if it was too much and he gave you a little kiss on the forehead and with one stroke slid its length into you slowly and you moaned together.

"God, you're so tight pretty, is everything ok?"

you looked at Heeseung above you with clumps of still damp hair falling on his forehead and he gave you comfort in having sex with him for the first time.

"Yes, yes, I have to get used to it all again," he pushed himself to escape slightly, and then I told him he could move more. Heeseung pushed for the first few times slightly softly on your poor vaginal lips that still had to adapt to his leaking cock, the room was flooded with your body odor, you could hear only the whistling of the wind and rain. with his of your kisses and your bodies rubbing together.

"Hee, more please" you said slightly embarrassed to feel the feeling of well-being of his cock getting more and more sucked by you, he took your leg and put it slightly over his shoulder. "Look at you, so pretty and good at taking my cock, I had no doubt that under that aura of a good innocent girl there was a good girl to seduce to take me well!"

his thrusts became irregular inside you, it was all too much and you shook his hand to make him understand that it was too much but at the same time you moaned madly in feeling it inside you more and more deep. "Hee, please, I'm almost there" you said with tears in your eyes coming down from pleasure, he told you he was going to make you cum and teased you with his thumb your swollen clit and little twitches ran through your body and you screamed his name as your white cum scned between your thighs and his cock that could not stop hammering your poor cunt now soaked and sensitive.

"Where, where do you want me to come, cute?" you told him inside that you had started taking the pill and after two more pushes deeper and deeper inside you felt his sperm splash inside you and groan with the feeling of your bodies still embraced and merged with each other.

After cleaning you up with a damp cloth and taking you to the bathroom to change, Heeseung wrapped you in his arms, your face hidden against his chest while your heart raced uncontrollably. Your breath was still a little uneven, but you found the courage to whisper the words you had been holding inside for a long time.

"...I love you."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, suddenly, Hee burst into laughter.

You stiffened, and with a sulky expression, you turned away, ignoring the slight discomfort in your legs. You didn’t want to look at him. If for him it was just something to brag about to his friends, then let him. But he would never have anything else from you.

You felt him stay still for a few seconds, his breath barely noticeable against your skin. Then, as if a switch had been flipped in his mind, he gently grabbed you and turned you around, making you snuggle against him again.

"Hey," he murmured, his fingers grazing your side.

You pouted. "If for you it’s just something to tell others to brag about, then go ahead… but know that I’ll erase you from my life forever."

Hee sighed and gave you a small pinch on the side, making you flinch. "Stop saying nonsense and be quiet for a moment."

You looked up at him, meeting his dark eyes.

"I love you too."

His words were direct, without hesitation. You felt your cheeks flush, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I don’t believe it..." you murmured, looking down.

Hee smiled, amused, and with two fingers, he lifted your chin to make you look into his eyes again. "I love everything about you," he whispered with an intensity that made you shiver. "I love your sweet and friendly personality, but also your shyness. I love the innocent girl who blushes for no reason and the one who knows how to tease me without any shame."

His smile widened as he kissed down your cheek, all the way to your neck. "I love the one who gets jealous when she sees me with another... and the one who chose to give me her first time."

Your face was now completely red, your heart feeling like it was about to explode. You couldn’t hold back and kissed him, holding him tightly.

When you pulled away, your eyes sparkled with emotion. "So... are you my boyfriend?" you asked, a hint of shyness in your voice.

Hee smiled, shifting above you to settle you more comfortably between his arms. "Of course," he replied possessively. "I have no intention of sharing you with anyone else."

You bit your lip, a mischievous smile breaking through the redness of your cheeks. "Neither do I, you know?"

He chuckled and pulled you even closer. "Good. Because you’re mine."

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[radiantmorningstar]

Tomb: the Chronicle of Sirius and Prin 2

Year 297 AC of the Deer, Highday 15-16h of the Month of Close

They trek across the stormswept plain until, a day-and-a-half later, soaked and terrorized by lightning and thunder, they arrive at what used to be the village of Veldmark. Every building looks smashed and burned. The villagers—about 50 men, women, and children—are impaled on long spikes fashioned from the wood of the shattered buildings. They hang motionless in the rain in two symmetrical rows down what used to be the central road.

A large wooden wall, perhaps once belonging to the meeting house, has been left standing. On it a message has been cut in the Common tongue: ~ TO OBTAIN SATISFACTION THE DREAD WARLORD SIGUR DRAKENSBANE RAZED THIS VILLAGE FOR LACK OF TRIBUTE LET ALL BEAR WITNESS AND IN WITNESSING MOURN THE FOLLY OF VELDMARK ~ .

Prin runs his palm over the roughly hacked letters. “Sigur, eh?” he murmurs. “That doesn’t sound like a Redianteran name.”

“No,” says Sirius. “Not remotely.”

They regard the dead villagers with a certain detachment, as their training in the Adventurers’ Guild has prepared them for such things. However, it is a ghastly sight.

[Prin makes an unmodified Lore check and fails. Sirius makes one and succeeds, connecting the style of the message, the name, and the unnatural intensity of the storm.]

“I know what this is.” Sirius steps back and takes in the destroyed buildings and the impaled villagers. “These are storm giants.” It’s a storm giant war party, probably marauding from some redoubt in the Dragonback Mountains to the east.

Soaked, the two apprentices nevertheless stand there for a while, contemplating the enormous implications of this realization.

[Trey Oracle: Do they decide to return to the guild at Redianteris to report what they have discovered? - Yes.]

The sun is past its zenith and they know they won’t get much farther today. But they both agree that the only responsible thing is to return to the guild with this information.

Unfortunately, they are additionally aware that they can’t camp in the open—not only because of the horrible weather, but also because the night has three watches and there are only two of them. This is why the Guild will usually send out three adventurers at minimum. Why the Masters chose only two this time remains an unanswered question.

Since they left Redianteris, Prin and Sirius have had to find shelter every night and risk sleeping unguarded. Up to now, it didn’t seem like much of an issue, travelling on the relatively safe Northern Plains Road. But now the situation feels menacing.

The only structure that seems wholly intact is a wooden chapel to the goddess, Galana, patron of plants and fertility. A koh-wood statue of her with arms outstretched faces the central square of what used to be Veldmark.

Sirius and Prin shuffle warily past the statue and enter through the thick wooden door. It is unlocked. Unfortunately, when Prin lights a torch, they see nothing but an empty wooden floor, a dais, and a podium. There are no seats, artifacts, holy symbols, or even statues. Prin puts his lit torch in an iron loop on the wall

They don’t have anything with which they could bar the door. So Sirius sits with his back against it and closes his eyes. Prin lays out his bedroll [torch -1 / ration check: no change] and tries to get some sleep.

[Trey Oracle: Does something happen in the middle of the night, since they are sleeping without keeping watch? - Yes / danger is low / keywords: overcome challenge / a dog is encountered]

In the middle of the night, they both have the same strange dream. They dream that they are in the chapel. A small black dog is sitting before them, staring at them with an unsettling, highly intelligent look on its face. It speaks with the serene voice of a woman: “Beware this town, for all is not what it seems. Once you leave this chapel, I cannot protect you.”

Sirius and Prin both wake with a start.

To be continued.

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 || 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ when you declined to play Ddakji with a man, the least you expected was him stalking you, even less expected when you oblige him to lick your bleeding wound after seeing him kill a man and escaping him.

warnings_ MDNI, age gap (not specified but legal) reader is a foreigner (implied American but not specified again), stalking, NO KIDNAPPING NOR ABUSE HERE, blood play, dom!salesman, switch!reader, toxic till the end, sexual innuendos, manipulation, questionable morals, do not romanticize this irl pls, NO PROOFREAD YET

notes_ I’ll just drop this fic and leave it there bc why am i feeling so horny for an Asian sociopath? me la estoy pasando bien raro (i like it)

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 this man

✰ Index (+ fics here)

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Everything was irritating. The class you had was canceled last minute, the crowd at the train station was loud, the tapping of a kid in a window was constant, and the message you received asking for your campus ID to keep using your student account was sudden and required immediate action. Your cramps and migraine only aggravate everything.

You were steps away from the stairs when you stopped to take the damn picture of your ID and be done with that. But of course, you couldn’t find your wallet at first glance, so you moved aside to take a better look.

You worried about kneeling and ruining your black coat with the dirtiness of the floor at the station, but at the same time, you thought it was just stupid.

A trail of curses flooded your mind as you tried to find your wallet, making you oblivious to a random man walking in your direction.

“Excuse me, Miss… Would you like to play Ddakji?” Said man asked you in Korean. You were occupied with a hand inside your thrifted designer tote, and your mind unconsciously prepared an answer in English.

“Sorry, I don’t have time” When you realized your mid-answer you sighed, just as you fished out your wallet. “For every win of yours, you’ll earn a great sum of cash”

Once you stood up, you met the face of the man who now answered in English as well. Very tall, handsome, innocent smile and in a suit; a businessman. You knew it was wrong to judge but there was something behind the smile he offered you that resulted eerie.

Like behind that seemingly blameless expression, the man was hiding his true intentions.

Might’ve been your eyes or hair that caught his attention. You weren’t native, and he didn’t want to think he could take advantage, yet his feet dragged him to you.

Placing your bag over your shoulder again, you grab your sunglasses and phone with tangled EarPods. You give the man one last look. You are not having a good day and you don’t have time to deal with this.

“What do you say?” He asks feigning kindness, eyeing you subtly without your knowledge.

“No, thank you. I don’t even know how the game works”

“You look like you are a natural. You might be surprised if you try. You just have to pick a color and try to flip the opposing tile”

The rich always trying to fuck the one who isn’t. This was just a new way. The urge to roll your eyes grew but you remained still.

“Look, I’m sorry. But I bet you do this just to see how desperate people who need money can go. I won’t be one of them. If not, sorry for misjudging you, sir” you harshly say before putting on your EarPods and leaving the station. You leave him perplexed, huffing in disbelief and igniting a fire of curiosity inside him.

And you completely forgot about the Ddakji man as you made it to your little apartment, not knowing he would turn upside down your upcoming days.

…

Warm days in winter were exciting for you. They boosted your energy and made you want to be out all day.

You had the luck of living in a beautiful complex because it was once from a friend of your mother who married years ago and now had her single apartment for rent.

It had long warm hallways that hosted at least eight apartments by floor. With orange and pink subtle lights and uneven edges. It was truly a sight despite how little the apartments were. One bedroom with closet and bathroom, a tiny studio, small kitchen, enough space for a dining table, another small bathroom, and a living room with balcony.

Your loneliness was well-balanced because you loved your home. But even on warm days, you wanted to be out.

Your red shoes contrasted with everything you stepped on. You carried a bag with a bunch of books and another one with thrifted clothes you bought.

At the park you always walked by, there was a fair amount of people as usual. You don’t care much to look around but someone makes you stare longer than needed.

The same man who asked if you wanted to play a game at the station was at the park. Another impeccable suit dressing him, looking attractive like the first time and already looking at you.

He offered you a smile, to which you didn’t reply. You looked at the ground, feeling like you had frozen.

What a weirdo, he offered bread and a random paper to a lonely man.

Simultaneously, you wondered if the man found you attractive enough to stare like that. With your mind that often became nihilistic, you thought you were delusional and that you should just keep walking.

His eyes remained glued to you. As his prey was thinking about what was better to choose, he contemplated you walking again.

The salesman realized he had made you nervous and that made him feel eager to end his job and follow you again.

Once he realized you lived in a good neighborhood, where his elegant suits matched the vibe, he got even more excited to see you again.

So now, it was meant to be.

How sweet, sophisticated, and innocent you looked.

Something shifted, as you passed by his side, only having a view of his back, you assumed he worked out, his hair looked perfectly fine, and his big hands offered two things. Perhaps you had misjudged him and he really wanted to help. But your inner voice said otherwise. In a sudden change of events, you decided to look back once you were almost at the exit of the park.

With his deep gaze still set on you, your lips formed a smile.

And he took it as a first win in the games that had begun between you two.

…

Once again, you find yourself in the library. Inside one of the biggest malls you’ve been to, you are leaning at a counter, asking if they have an English translation of a book you were interested in.

Your Korean isn’t good enough yet, so as the nice librarian disappeared to find your request, you are working on your next reply, with a translation app.

“Do you recommend me this one?” your back arched as a startled reflex. You quickly stand straight and turn around to see the person you grew anxious to avoid and see again. The salesman is there, looking up and down at you with a perfectly orchestrated smile.

“Huh?” you ask disconcertingly, he shows you a book, his face looking like he had found a wounded little bird. But it was only you, startled and nervous by his strong presence.

The book is The Divine Comedy. Dante Alighieri.

“Certainly is a good one. A lot of heavenly justice…” you say trying to sound confident, looking at the cover of the book. Displaying the layers that separated heaven from hell. “Do you believe in heavenly justice, miss?”

“I don’t know. We can’t call someone a sinner without a proper trial beforehand” he chuckles, which makes you frown for a second. He truly was unpredictable and you didn’t like that. “Ah, sinners. Always misjudged and harshly punished for being the ones who have the guts to make things…” his deep voice and tone made you wonder if he was self-perceived as a sinner, which made you feel worse.

“You sound like an ethnocentric…”

“I don’t think I’m far into that type of thinking, y/n” Your eyes almost popped out, leaving your hands in an anxious tremble.

“How is it possible that you know my name?” Before he can even answer, you add more. “You are stalking me”

His demonic smile makes your heart stop. The smile you once thought had innocence can’t blind you anymore. He isn’t innocent. He literally confirmed he was stalking you and you didn’t know how to feel.

“I don’t like the idea that conveys the word ‘stalking’. We can call it predestination…” you huff in disbelief. “What do you want with me?”

“I would like to get to know the woman who rejected my Ddakji offer. And ask for one more game” Your lips form a line, and quietly you are hating how much you are enjoying the conversation.

“Hmm, I’m bad at most games, so I’m afraid I will reject you once again” You turned back again to see if the librarian was coming when you felt him stepping closer, which made you feel nervous again.

“I might believe you. I always win…” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers through your spine and creating a lot of tension.

Your psycho mode almost made you lean forward again, daring to see if some friction was possible. But you didn’t, trying to be prudent and acting sane.

“I would’ve wanted a normal first interaction and this time you should’ve asked me out on a date. That’s how it works where I come from but… here, I guess not” he stepped aside as the librarian handed you the book. And as you thanked her and turned to leave and pay somewhere else, he took out a card and handed it to you.

“I’m sure we can work on some sort of arrangement. Here, you may call me…” slightly irritated that he didn’t say much about your inquiry, you snatched the card and walked away.

The cathartic feelings of wanting to keep talking to him and running away from him at the same time resulted in excruciating. It didn’t make sense, the point of him was to nowhere. Being clueless about his age, name, and everything made it feel wrong. Yet, curiosity was starting to burn you.

…

Like a miracle, the heavens moved and sprinkled some luck above you. You found some friends on campus, they spoke English like you and were foreigners as well. One of them was a friend of the owner of a club and invited you for the night.

The invitation made you forgetful about your salesman, whom you hadn’t talked with since the encounter in the library. The card he handed the last time rested between the book you bought the same day, making you unable to read more because it reminded you of the last encounter with him.

It resulted unknown to you when was that your life had turned over the edge of becoming twisted. Your feelings for a mysterious man who seemed more accusable than appeared remained undecided.

He made you feel like a wildfire and a caged bird at the same time. Delicate but menacing.

He seemed older than you, professional in a field, mature and imposing. Which you didn’t mind when he appeared to ask you about The Divine Comedy. Either way, you were playing but couldn’t risk anything. Especially in a country where you didn’t know how everything worked.

After getting out of the shower, your thoughts on the salesman are completely faded. You slip on a sequin dress and paint your eyes with glitter and a smokey style.

Thereafter, at the club you let yourself go and have a wild night. Between classes, essays, and the issue with the salesman, you needed a time out.

Everything feels nice when you take a bathroom break and you smile at your reflection. You know you are close to be drunk, it’s the most enjoyable stage of ingesting alcohol.

“Hey, let’s go dancing, I couldn’t find you before!” Yells one of your friends after you reunite with the little group. You nod excitedly, taking her hand and letting her take you to the dance floor.

The music reminded you of that time when spinnin records music was a trend and everyone played their mixes at parties back at home. As you move along the track, you don’t look at anything in particular, you just feel interesting and sexy. But your eyes end up giving a quick glance at one table, almost making you stop your euphoric moment.

You swore you saw your salesman.

Looking around you don’t see him, so you return dancing but the odd sensation in your chest doesn’t let you rest.

“What happens?” Asks another friend, looking worried.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone. Never mind…” you shake your head, smiling and convincing them that everything is fine.

But once they got more drunk to notice your departure, you walked out, despite curiosity, you wanted to confirm if the tall gorgeous man was near you.

Rarely you bring up to question your life decisions. Not because you thought you were perfect, but because you easily accepted your errors.

And it wasn’t hard to accept you completely messed up by getting out of the club. Where the night was colder, and some steps away from the main entrance, the crowd was loud. A man could be heard pleading and sobbing, which made you fearful but eager to see what was happening.

You peeked at the alley beside the club. A wave of shock flooded you once you noticed another man was punching the one who yelped and sobbed for forgiveness.

Your salesman was the attacker.

“Please! I’ll pay everything back!” Your mind raced back to the moment you spotted your salesman inside the club minutes ago.

His dark grey suit didn’t fit the aura of the place, but he seemed to be talking with the same man he was now punching.

It was obvious at that point that he wasn’t a good man. He made fun of making people play his seemingly innocent games to later laugh in their faces whenever they lost. He was never flirting with you, the odd feeling of uncertainty you felt with him was right.

You had to go. You had to burn the card he gave you, avoid the station where you met him, and forget about his face.

There’s panic in your system, your heart beats fast and nausea starts coming up your throat.

You want to get immediately drunk and forget everything you saw with a hangover. You need it.

But you don’t get very far. Midway through the stairs that conduct to the club, a hand holds your forearm with extreme pressure and drags you inside a private room.

Your salesman finally found you.

…

“You just killed a man!” you almost yelled as soon as he pushed you inside and closed the door.

The room was very fancy like the club. It had a big desk near a window, flower-shaped hanging lamps, black sparkly floor tiles, and a sage velvet couch.

Your salesman slides his fingers through his hair and looks at the ceiling before turning to you. One hand still carrying the murder weapon.

“He deserved it” was all he answered and you take a breath. In need of an alibi, you opened a random fridge in the room and grabbed a beer. Your salesman watched how you sipped at the can. He knew you were feeling a mix of curiosity and disgust for him.

Once you drink at least half of the content, you sigh, brushing aside some hair and walking towards him.

“Who are you?” you ask pleadingly, desperate to know how far you’ve gone for him.

“Eventually you’ll know” he sounds cold, calculating, and menacing. “You didn’t call…”

He was taking advantage of your vulnerability.

“I met you a week ago, I don’t even know your name” you admit with shame and dissatisfaction.

For the first time, he genuinely touches you. Hands straight to your waist, making gasp in surprise.

“You’re smart and will eventually understand. You’re my good girl”

His good girl….

What was left to do when you have a sociopath holding your waist with the same hands he had used to kill a man? Play along, even if you are terrified.

What had been your horrified face, slowly ends up in a smirk, tilting your head, squandering cheekiness. “I’m not your good girl, sir”

He slowly leaned back, taking a seat on the sage couch, one of his hands going straight to rest behind his head, against the wall. He twirled the knife against his knee, making you uneasy, but confident about your upcoming words.

“If I walk away, you can’t do much with me, I’m a foreigner. Sure the authorities would dismantle whatever dirty job you’re into and that’s a big no-no” you explain, and feeling a little too bold, you step between his legs.

“Your lack of ignorance amazes me” he admits, offering you a cocky smile. “It makes me even more infatuated”

Your left knee pushed aside his hand twirling the knife. He remained still but sure seemed slightly surprised when you ended up straddling him. With your hands glued to his dark tie, putting it into place.

“Hmm, well, be careful. I am no threat, I barely have valuable skills to get rid of you but I know I could be a problem. So I guess I won, sir…” you allow yourself to smile, following a path with your fingers, from his tie to his cheeks and nose, softly tracing his pale skin.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart” You knew he was trying to be in control, and the best part was that you weren’t fighting for it.

“There’s a lot I might not understand. I’m just a girl who happened to be in this city for a temporary academic project” When your lips brushed his, you couldn’t deny he was so fucking hot, you wished he wasn’t so weird and probably part of a mafia or cult or whatever. “You are the grown-ass man who got obsessed with me”

“I just find you an odd but interesting player, sweet girl” he tried to use his innocent smile but it was useless when you grabbed him by the shoulders and finally dared to kiss him.

He controlled it the moment he touched you again. His hands had a possessive sting and firmly grabbed you by the hips. One of them still holding the knife.

Feeling bold, with adrenaline flowing freely, you softly bit his lower lip. You knew it was over when he almost let out a moan, and after checking he had his eyes closed, you literally jumped away from him.

Without looking back, you started running. Your clumsy steps turn frantic, knowing damn well he would start following you soon. As you literally start pushing people to get out, your heart beats faster than ever and you have a growing anxiety, begging you to stop and breathe.

Once the cold air hit you, as you took a cab and saw no sign of your salesman, confusion struck you and you saw the blood in your chest and arm.

“Are you alright, girl?” The driver asked, also watching your bleeding state.

“Yes, just an accident, I’m okay” he nods unsure, but starts driving after you give him your destination.

His knife must’ve sliced your skin when you stood up from his lap. When he moved one of his big hands to caress your chin.

It wasn’t that you were scared of him, of your salesman. Although you should be; but you weren’t. Could it be that the worst part was that you were attracted to him? Even after watching him kill a man? You were screwed.

You realize the reason why you always ran away from him is because you don’t know how to face his unpredictable demeanor.

At that point, you didn’t know what he wanted. Only that he was obsessed with you. But his intentions remained a mystery unsolved.

Before getting out of the cab, you pay and send your friends a message that you left early because you got a headache after vomiting. This didn’t happen, but would’ve been better to not experience it as a young woman in her twenties.

…

When you opened the door, he was already inside. The worst part is that you weren’t surprised anymore. You only stood at the feet of the door, looking at him with uneasiness.

“You got me worried,” he says, stopping his movements around your table. “You left some blood stains and I thought it was serious”

“You accidentally showed me your true nature. A little bit of blood shouldn’t scare you” his shirt indeed had some bloody spots, his blazer was gone, and the sleeves of his messy shirt were rolled up. You hated that your first thought was that he looked very hot.

He moved and took a seat at one of your tables. He sighed and you realized that perhaps he was also screwed up. For letting himself go too far for you.

“I don’t regret any encounter we’ve had,” he says. “Me neither”

He can’t stop staring at your bloodstained dress and you notice.

Fuck everything, you thought.

I’m attracted to him, he’s attracted to me, What’s the worst thing that could happen? (I don’t want to know).

“Silly boy, look what you did to me,” you say looking at the soaked fabric.

Something possessed you at that moment. Your hands went straight to lift your dress. His eyes trailed your sparkly underwear, your lower belly, and your ribs that rose and fell as you breathed.

Your hands twirl behind your back to unhook your bra; also soaked, throwing it to the floor.

Your salesman is quiet, his innocent smile about to fall because you know you have taken him by surprise.

Likely you’ll get a scar. The wound being slightly deep, an uneven line that passed from your neck to your shoulder.

You step forward, confidently eyeing him.

“Clean it” he tried to stand up, probably to grab a med kit but you stopped him with your heel. “With your mouth. Lick it clean…”

He gulped.

His manspread became the only thing you could care about. How he eyed you with lust and possession for some seconds, and then to lean forwards.

Once again his hands landed on the curves of your hips and he made you step up, leaving him inches away from you.

Your sudden surgation grew and his hot tongue finally made contact with your skin.

You savored the feeling of his tongue, knowing he wouldn’t clean anything but the semi-dry blood over your breast. He was only making a mess.

Then, he lifts his head and catches your lips in a sullied kiss. The way he held you, made you understand how he always wanted control. Above anything.

“I will be gone within time. You can ruin me while it lasts…” you blurt out, panting for air.

“I’ll ruin you. But I don’t want to rip you apart. That’s pointless…” he admits in your lips, blood near your chin that he wipes out. “You’re the most fun I’ve had in years. My little toy…”

“Alright, I’ll be your toy” he nods, kissing you again. “Know that my lips are sealed when it comes to you”

“And you won’t have to worry about anything again…” you moan on his lips when he pulls your hair and finally makes you lay on your once new carpet, now displaying some splotches of blood.

“I don’t need your money”

“Don’t you want to make your mother proud and relieved from student debts? From rent?” You can’t think straight. “It’s not correct…”

“None of this is, y/n. Now shut your mouth and spread your legs, toy”

It’s wrong, immoral, a complete madness. You know everything will change once the night dies and the morning comes. But as much as you tried to communicate to him that you weren’t scared, you knew it was over, you’ve gotten too deep into his shit.

“Farewell to my purity” you whisper in his ear and it’s enough to make his eyes turn darker, full of lust.

Everything that consoles purity would be gone from you. And the fact that you were ready scared you. But once his hands started meeting places across your body, you welcomed the sin.

As well as your mind seized thinking. Not caring about the consequences.

_______________________________________________

If you ask for more I will provide

Quién me manda a escribir estas mamadas? I’m just ovulating.

[gurugirl]

[3] It's Good to Be King | mean king!harry

MAIN MASTERLIST

Series Summary: Harry, a handsome, but ill-mannered new king, bound by tradition, must select a queen, and against all expectations, he chooses Y/n, a street beggar. Now, Y/n finds herself caught between the gilded cage of royalty and the cold, harsh simplicity of her past, navigating a court shocked by her presence and a king who revels in the scandal of it all.

Note: Harry is mean/uncouth in this, though things do get better. He doesn't treat anyone around him with much respect at all. Expect to not like him much at first. Also, this is set in the 1800s England, and while not completely historically accurate, I did my best to keep it as accurate as possible.

Ch. 3 Word Count: 8,749

Ch. 3 Warning: Harsh physical treatment, descriptions of extreme poverty, discrimination, humiliation, some light petting, inspection kink (light), corruption kink, mention of parental death (let me know if I missed any!)

It's Good to Be King Masterlist

. .

Y/n had learned that the king had been called away to tend to a minor land ownership dispute in a village that was a day's ride away. He'd be gone for five days as long as there were no unexpected postponements.

When Phoebe told her, Y/n couldn't pinpoint exactly why she felt so wistful. She knew he was a cold, bad-mannered person, so she shouldn't have expected him to speak to her about his departure beforehand. But to feel the tight stretch in her chest that he didn't tell her himself… that was perplexing.

Their interactions over the last few weeks she'd been at the castle had been not more than fleeting. They'd had dinner together a few times, and one evening he went to her room with a gift for her. He didn't let her open it while he was present, but before he left, he placed his hand on her hip when she was wearing only her chemise and said, "This, I much prefer. I shall have another fig tart sent to you this evening."

He squeezed at her skin, his fingers indenting into her newly very slightly softer hip. She understood him to mean the small bit of weight she'd put on was what he preferred.

The gift he left her was a beautiful gold brooch bearing the kingdom's royal coat of arms carved into the center, adorned with sparkling purple, red, and amber jewels. On the back, it was engraved with the name of Harry's deceased mother, the late Queen.

She forced a smile as Phoebe poured hot, fragrant Ceylon into her teacup. "He'll be gone five days? The wedding ceremony is in two weeks. Let's hope nothing delays their return."

"Two weeks already is it?" Phoebe said, lifting the porcelain lid from her breakfast platter. "Are you scared?"

She nodded. "Yes. But I've no choice. My family finally has everything they've ever wanted here. My sister, Dell, cried last week when she tasted the citrus soufflé we all had for dessert. I can't do anything to ruin this. Even if he is the devil."

A dashing devil.

"I believe he's fond of you. He's a cad, but I've seen him look at you when you're not paying attention. Everyone has."

Y/n smiled down at her plate. She only pretended not to be paying attention, but she knew his gaze on the curve of her neck and brushing at her lips when she'd look the other direction. Crude, maybe, but he did show her something about her body she'd not soon forget.

In fact, it had come quite in handy once her bedroom was quiet and she was settled into her down blankets with a book full of wanton stories in her lap. The guilt she'd felt the first few times she'd reenacted what he'd shown her soon turned into a craving she daydreamed of at the most inappropriate times.

Just as then, while Phoebe stood by watching as she ate her breakfast.

"Have you eaten?" Y/n asked.

"Not yet."

"Would you like a biscuit with butter?" Y/n placed a biscuit on a small dish and gestured at the chair across from her for Phoebe to sit.

"It's meant for you, Y/n."

"Of course it's meant for me, but I'd like you to have some. You're my friend. Please, sit with me."

Phoebe offered a gentle smile and pulled the chair out to sit. "Thank you."

Y/n had begun offering some of her food to Phoebe during the mornings when no one else was around. Her friend always denied the initial offer but eventually wound up giving in. In fact, it seemed to be easier to get her to sit with Y/n by the day.

She'd also begun taking etiquette classes twice each week in preparation for the wedding and being seen in public with the king. The council advised that she needed the extra work. Harry left it up to Y/n whether or not she'd like to go. She decided to take the classes but quickly regretted that choice. The governess was harsh and easily angered.

Y/n had the feeling that her teacher didn't like her one bit, despite her best efforts to charm her. In fact, she got the idea that not many appreciated her presence in the castle at all. So she often preferred to stay in her room or her sisters'.

"Have you ever kissed a boy before?" Phoebe asked as she dotted the edge of her lip with her napkin.

"I have. But it was just with a friend because I was curious. And only once."

"Was it Lane? The one you told me about who likes his drink?"

She nodded. "Yes. But I'm sure he liked it more than I did. What about you?"

Phoebe smiled shyly and looked behind herself toward the door, as if anyone could hear them through the heavy, solid wood. "I might have last night…"

Y/n sat her fork down and leaned forward. "What do you mean? With whom?"

"You swear to not tell anyone?"

"Phoebe, you know I would never tell anyone your secrets. Was it Niall? It was Niall, wasn't it?"

The look on her friend's face when she spoke the name of the guard told Y/n everything she needed to know. She'd had a suspicion about the pair a couple of weeks prior when she spotted Niall winking at the girl, and the way her face shaded in pink was a clue as to how she felt about it.

A sudden knock on the door had both girls looking at one another in surprise. Phoebe quickly stood and walked toward the door with Y/n right behind. When she pulled the door open, there, standing in her doorway, was the Lord Mayor, and two men with him.

"Miss Y/n Y/l/n, you will come with us at once," he said, looking behind Phoebe at the queen-to-be.

"What is this about? Is the king okay?" Y/n asked, placing her hand over the broach he'd given her.

"You and your family are not welcome here in the castle any longer."

"What? I don't understand! Is there not—"

One of the men stepped in, pushing Phoebe to the side, and grabbed Y/n roughly by her arm. "Come!"

As she was pulled away from her room, the new guard, Niall, stopped the procession before they got too far. "Halt!"

"Move out of my way at once, guard!"

"My loyalty lies with the king and his orders. Unhand Her Majesty at once!"

"The King's duties fall on me when he's away. This is my command. Move to the side."

"Then you leave me no choice but to send word to King Styles to notify him of your trespass."

Y/n felt her arm yanked as she was dragged down the stairs. She screamed when another set of hands was on her middle, pushing, and then she spotted her sisters, parents, and grandmother already near the entrance, surrounded by men.

"Let me go! You needn't grab at me!" The men didn't listen. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, she was pushed until her knees and hands hit the stone floor just off the carpet. But she had barely a moment to take a breath when she was again being grabbed and hauled upward until she was standing next to her mother.

The Lord Mayor stepped in front of her and reached forward. Y/n gasped when she felt him yank at her dress and then realized he'd pulled the brooch off. "Take them away."

Niall called out before Y/n and her family were directed to load into the horse cart that had been waiting for them at the front of the castle. "King Styles will receive word tomorrow. Do not fear, madam."

Two guards hung on the sides of the cart, and a driver at the front controlled the two horses pulling it, as Y/n and her family clung to the wooden benches inside so they didn't fall. People stood and watched as the cart was pulled out of the castle gates and toward the slums of their overcrowded rookery.

"What's happened, Y/n? What did you do?" Her mother bellowed dramatically.

"I don't know what happened. This wasn't the king's orders."

"Those men were atrocious. Grabbed my toast right from my hand!"

The townsfolk were staring, laughing, and some spat as they passed them by. She was far less worried about her family's reputation than she was about the rude behavior of the middle and noble classes. Y/n may never hold influence or power, but she was a human, and she deserved fundamental decency. She'd always believed everyone did.

Until then. Those people mocking her were the lowest of the low.

Being carted out of the castle in a buggy meant for livestock had been done on purpose. It was meant to be a spectacle. It was meant to humiliate. But it only made her angry. For the first time since she'd met the king, she understood him, in part. Understood his need to cause a stir and disrupt the comfortably spoiled bourgeoisie. Now she understood why he didn't like any of them.

. .

"Your Majesty, I have an urgent message from the main castle guard. Y/n Y/l/n and her family have been removed from the castle without your permission. The Lord Mayor took it upon himself to act as regent in your stead and made the decision to banish them from the castle grounds. Your presence is requested at once to deal with the matter."

Harry had never been so furious in all his life. He'd led an army in war and dealt with enemy soldiers who spat in his face, and had never been treated with such a lack of respect as this. He'd only been gone for two days, and already he had his own men conspiring behind his back. It was in direct defiance of Harry, and that just would not do.

He had no choice but to abandon his purpose and return right away. The land dispute matter could wait. Taking care of the Lord Mayor and everyone involved could not. He bid farewell to his company and left the moment he mounted his steed with his men in tow.

A day's ride across the expanse of Thornekeep and the surrounding villages was tiresome. Harry had been looking forward to more rest before he was to return, but now he had to forgo the gin and the hearty meal that was being prepared for him so he could deal with the unruly cast of characters he'd left in charge of the castle in his stead.

If he'd been a hair more cruel than he was, he would have forced the horses to push through until exhaustion. But he relied on the steeds to safely give him transport, and rest was necessary for the animals, just as it was for him and his men.

And as upset as he was about being disrespected, he was more concerned about Y/n than anything. She was his responsibility, and it was no secret that she and her family were not happily welcomed into their new roles. But he certainly hadn't expected this.

The following day, when he arrived to town just outside the castle, it felt as though everyone suddenly retreated back into their homes. As if even the townspeople knew they'd done something wrong. The vendors and workers averted their gazes.

Pointing in the direction of the town square near where the Lord Mayor lived, Harry looked at two of his men who were riding with him. "The Lord Mayor, go and collect him. Bring him to the private chambers closet off the long gallery. Make him stay there and wait for me. You," he said as he looked at Fred, "Get the covered stagecoach and have Alfred drive it directly to Y/n's home. We will be bringing them back to the castle at once."

Harry and the guard traveling with him rode deeper into the town, where the slums sprawled with wet, muddy roads, buckets filled with slop, decrepit living quarters, and street drunkards. There, the people stared intently. They stopped in their tracks and watched as the king rode by on his healthy, strong steed, with his armoured guard behind him. It was the first time he'd ever gone into the rookeries, where the poor lived and worked (if they could find work).

"You, sir!" Harry shouted at a man carrying what looked to be a heavy sack over his shoulder. The man stopped and narrowed his eyes at the king. "Can you tell me in which direction Y/n Y/l/n lives?"

"Oy…" The man dropped the sack at his feet and looked around himself. "I know 'o no such name."

"She's a woman of 20. Has a father called Peter and her mother Lettice."

"Peter and Lettice… Peter Y/l/n…" He rubbed at his chin and chewed the inside of his cheek. "I might know it."

Harry sighed. He knew the spiel. The man was expecting some kind of payment for information. Directing his horse to step closer to the man, Harry looked down at him with a frown and could smell the stench coming from him. "If you know it, tell me then. If you do, I'll let you continue on your journey unharmed."

The man shrugged. It was worth a shot. "Across from the mill. There's a graveyard at the top o'the lane. Four or five tenements down. B'be careful o'the pigs. They've not eaten."

The smell, as Harry traveled deeper into the overcrowded and filthy streets, was almost unbearable. Every five or ten yards was a bucket overflowing with excrement. He'd always known these places existed, but to see it with his own eyes (and to smell it)… he was appalled. The kind of squalor the destitutes lived in was barbarous.

When they arrived at the rundown tenement across from the mill, Harry jumped from the horse and gave the lead to his guard before sloshing through the filth to step up onto the rotted boards of the platform. He knocked on the door with the loose frame and stepped back as someone opened it up right away.

"Who's that?" The old woman stumbled back a couple of steps and clutched her hand over her heart. "The king! The king is here!"

"M'lady, I'm looking for the Y/l/n family. Are they here in this tenement?" Harry held the door open and stepped inside. The main room was dingy and damp and smelled of stale food and unwashed bodies.

"By god!" The woman sat down on the benchtop and inhaled deeply like she'd been given the scare of her life. "The king is here!"

A young man came down the stairs and looked from Harry to the old woman. "We can 'ear ya! Enough!" The man removed his floppy hat and lowered his head. "Your Highness. To what do we owen'ya th'honor?"

"I'm looking for the Y/l/n family. I've heard they live here."

"Right y'are. Lemme find 'em."

Harry scraped his eyes around the space, and while it wasn't as filthy as things appeared from outside, it was unfit for any human. The woman gasped as she pushed herself to stand and mumbled something he couldn't hear, nor did he care much. She seemed to be half out of it, gin drunk perhaps.

The ceiling was caved in at the side of the common area, where it appeared there was some kind of unworking, rusted stove. The wooden floors were soft under his feet, and the walls stained with moisture.

"King Harry?"

He turned quickly when he heard Y/n's voice. She made her way down the stairs, followed by her three younger sisters. "Y/n. I've come for you and your family. I received word about the situation and came as quickly as I could."

She clasped her hands behind her back and nodded. "Yes. It was humiliating. But we're used to being treated as such."

"You and your family are to gather your things quickly. A carriage will be around soon to bring you back to the castle."

"We were told we were not welcome there."

"The Lord Mayor will be dealt with forthwith. But what he says is irrelevant. My word is final. You will come back to the castle, and we are to proceed as before."

Y/n nodded slowly and motioned for her sisters to go back up to their quarters. "That is fine. Would you like to come up?"

She could see it in his posture and the expression on his face that he was not well in that room. The stench could get to anyone, but at least in the small space where they lived, it was tidy and much less foul. So he followed behind her up to their floor, and she let him into their room.

And it was indeed just a room. Pallets of cloth and feather, and straw were strewn over the floor where he assumed they slept. In the corner was a bench piled with random things: cups, bowls, sacks, a couple of books, a lantern, a tin of fish. In another corner, there was a tin bucket full of charred things, the wall behind it black from soot. He imagined it was their source of heat, like a fireplace.

Lettice and Peter were already standing in wait, their faces like those of young children awaiting permission to play with their new things. They bowed their heads. "Your Majesty," Peter said.

"Nan," Y/n said softly as she bent down to put her hand on her grandmother's shoulder. She'd been sitting in a chair, asleep. The old woman startled and looked at Y/n like she was some kind of horrible intruder.

"Nan, look…" Y/n motioned toward Harry, and the old woman blinked her eyes slowly.

"We're saved? He's come for us. Thank heavens!"

There weren't many things to gather. Harry hadn't imagined their living space as such. He figured a multi-room flat, nothing extravagant, but at least a home with space to cook and use the WC. But there was none of that. No running water, no private space, and no comfortable things to lie upon at night. How could anyone live like that? And that there were seven people all crammed into that room? He couldn't imagine it.

There was a double knock on the door before it was opened. Everyone turned to look as a young man stepped inside. "What's this then? It's true!" He grinned at Y/n and then lowered his head. "Your Majesty."

Y/n stepped in next to the man and put her hand on his arm. "This is my good friend Lane. He was there with me, the day you came to me."

Harry looked the dirty fellow up and down. "Yes, I remember Lane."

He watched his wife-to-be whisper something to the young man, and then Lane turned to look at her with a brief nod as he ran his hand over her wrist. There was no time to challenge what had just happened or to ask what was said and why someone else was touching her like that when Alfred had finally arrived with the covered carriage.

Once Y/n and her family were loaded into the carriage, Harry and his guard led the way back to the castle. He'd seen a lot of things in his life, but he had not been prepared to see the rookeries up close like that. He'd seen the outskirts of impoverished neighborhoods in other kingdoms and towns and but never in his own. Shock might be too heavy of a word for the way it made him feel, but it was close.

He ordered three footmen to take Y/n's family to their quarters and give them whatever they would like to eat (as well as draw each of them a bath) while he went with Y/n and Phoebe to bring her to his chambers. "You'll stay in my room from here on. Your room will still be open for you, but I'm not satisfied for you to be there all night alone."

Y/n was still struggling to wrap her mind around the events of the last few days. Niall had told her to expect the king to come and get her, but she doubted that he really would. She imagined it was easier for the king to take a more suitable wife. A woman used to that life with a higher status. Someone the proletariat would prefer.

She was thankful that he did, though. She'd gotten used to some of the small luxuries (and big) that the royal castle afforded them all. Mostly, she missed her privacy and the comfy bed.

"Have her wardrobe brought over, a warm bath drawn, and whatever she'd like to eat," Harry said to Phoebe, who quickly got to work.

Y/n kept quiet as she watched the king open up his balcony and drape the lace curtains to the side before he poured two glasses of gin and handed her one.

He gulped his portion in one go as she sniffed her glass. "Go on. Drink it. You need it more than I do. Feel free to have as much as you like."

"Thank you."

"You should not have to thank me. This should never have happened. I will deal with the Lord Mayor and see what kind of punishment the council allows. I just ask that if you leave this room, have Phoebe and Niall with you."

She nodded. "Of course."

"I've made arrangements for a formal announcement of our engagement. Day after tomorrow, we will have a public appearance to announce to the whole of the kingdom that you will be the Queen Consort. No one can then deny that I've selected my wife, as it seems they've all done."

He paced toward the open balcony and put his hands on his hips. "I will be gone til late. I have much to do. Please use my room as if it were your own."

Y/n eyed the bed and then shifted her gaze back to the king as he stepped toward his door. "I'm grateful that you came to get us. I'm indebted to you, My Lord."

He sniffed and looked down at his feet, hand on the knob the door. "Yes. You are."

. .

Y/n woke up to the sound of pouring water. Slowly opening her eyes, she found Harry sitting next to the fire, sipping hot tea and reading something intently as a man stood over the large tub in the king's room. She couldn't remember when she'd fallen asleep, but it wasn't long after her warm bath and the big meal she'd eaten.

She wasn't sure what to think exactly. The last few days had been quite dramatic and unusual, then with the king barging into their meager home to bring them back to the castle... He'd returned for her when he didn't need to. He had no allegiance to her or her family, so it was a bit of a surprise that he seemed so insistent that she come back with him.

"My Lord. Your bath is ready."

The king looked toward the man and pushed himself up from his chair. "You are dismissed."

Y/n blinked and watched as the man left the room, and Harry stepped toward the bath to touch the water. He looked tired. She wondered what time he'd returned to the room. When he began to remove his clothes, she thought to look away, imagining he didn't realize she was already awake.

But she remained still and kept her eyes on his frame until he was stark naked, despite her internal scolding to look away. The urge to keep watching was much stronger than her polite reasoning to avert her eyes. His body appeared to be that of a hard worker, with solid muscle and a sturdy build. It had never been a doubt in her mind that he was well-formed, and now she had proof as she watched flexing, dense muscles as he stepped into his tub.

"You may join me, if you like."

His voice startled her. She hadn't realized he was aware that she was awake, watching him. Pushing herself to sit up, she pulled the blanket to cover her state of undress. He'd seen her before in just a chemise, but she still had the sense that it was wrong to bare herself to any man like that.

"Don't be shy with me. I've already tasted and smelled the juice of your quim and you've just seen me naked. Come."

Y/n gulped at the memory of Harry's hands on her body as she let out uncontrollable noises when he'd touched her. Then the aftermath of the forbidden shame as she watched him taste her offering. The lingering thought of the way he'd jutted his pink tongue out to lick at his fingers had her surging with heat.

"My King… It's improper—"

"Now don't start with that again. I say what's proper and what's not, and you disobeying me is improper."

Slowly, she moved the cover from herself and slid her legs to the edge of the bed. Harry had not yet looked in her direction, which she was thankful for as she wrapped her arms over the thin material that clung to her breasts and stepped closer until she was just next to the tub.

He looked up at her. His eyes were bloodshot, and the fatigue in them was evident. "Well, if you're not going to join me, at least sit." He patted the wide stone ledge of the tub as he kept his eyes on her.

Trying her best not to stare into the water, she shifted her gaze toward the fire and sat down where the king had told her. His broad chest rose and fell tiredly as he stretched his strong arms along the top of the tub. She looked down at his fingers, the distance of only 7 or 8 barleycorns away from her thigh. So close he could touch if he stretched his middle finger toward her.

"I didn't foresee the kind of difficulty I'd encounter in keeping you. I knew some would disagree with my choice, but to have been interrupted in my work and so blatantly disrespected… We will not be making that mistake again."

"I'm sorry, it was—"

"Stop." He spoke loudly, his voice carrying a harsh edge. "Do not apologize for concerns you did not create. I have chosen you, and that's final. The Lord Mayor will have to come to terms with his punishment, just as I will have to come to terms with my lapse in judgment. I take responsibility for that egregious failure. But I'm not happy about it."

Y/n kept quiet. She'd seen the king raging mad the moment he stepped into the castle the evening prior, and while that anger had not been directed at her, she felt it as if it were. So part of her still felt like she'd done something wrong. And it was becoming clear to her now that her place as queen was not going to be an easy one. She was not beloved by the kingdom. She was a disgrace to the monarch and tradition.

"Next time I have to take leave, you'll come with me. I don't believe we have any choice in the matter. You're my responsibility."

She gently placed her palm down on the cool stone and watched as he dragged a cloth over his chest. "When do you leave next?"

"Not until after we're wed. And once you become pregnant, all of my duties away from the castle must be delegated to someone I trust. We can't risk anyone trying to hurt you again."

As he wetted his skin and wrung out the damp cloth, she glanced over his shoulder and up his neck to his structured jawline. She imagined his babies would be very pretty. The out-of-place thought surprised her.

"I wish I weren't such a burden, My King."

He dipped the rag into the water and looked up at her as he leaned forward. "You're my burden. I chose it. I bear it. It's what I want. I could very well pick another who's more suitable. Easier. More docile. But I don't want that. I want you."

It wasn't romantic. Not at all. So why did her heart skip a beat when he'd said it? He'd admitted she was a burden. She was not easy, and she was not docile.

"I'm trying to be more docile. I'll learn."

He waved his arm as water dripped from his skin. "No. My mother tried to be compliant and docile, and look where it got her. The moment she surrendered her will was the moment she was sentenced to death."

Shaking her head in confusion, Y/n leaned forward and dipped a finger into the warm water. "What do you mean? The queen died from consumption. That was what we were all told."

"And she would still be alive today if she had kept a grip on her spirit. But she allowed my father to take it from her. He took her charm, her wit, and her will. Consumption took her because she allowed herself to surrender. It was her death sentence."

She had wanted to run her hand over his back in a soothing gesture, but she thought better of it. It was possible he was no longer mourning the loss of his mother and that he wouldn't want her touch even if he was. The queen had been gone for many years.

"I loathe to bring this up right now, but I feel it's important to say. I'm worried that the brooch you gave me, the one that belonged to the queen, is gone. The Lord Mayor took it from me when he removed me from the castle."

Harry's face darkened as he turned to look toward the door. "Did he now? If it's gone, he will pay a heavy price in the form of losing his title. That's theft and punishable by law. But I have a feeling it's still in his possession. I will have it back to you by tomorrow, and if not, I will buy you a new one."

"I'm very grateful to you, My King. You returned so quickly. My sisters are very happy here."

He looked at her face, and his irises burned a trail down the front of her chemise. "And you? Are you happy here?"

She looked down at her lack of clothes and shifted forward so that her breasts were less visible under the thin fabric. "I am. We all are. My family and I."

"Here…" He held his hand toward her, the wet cloth in his palm. She took the rag from him, and he repositioned himself so his back was facing her. Y/n understood that he was requesting her to take the cloth to his back to help him wash.

She hesitantly moved her hand toward his back, as if touching him would set her to flame. But once the damp rag was pressed into his shoulder, he sighed, and she realized that touching him wouldn't hurt her at all. It had been silly to think it would. Running it across his back, she noted the smooth skin and firm muscle that defined his sturdy figure. Plunging the cloth down into the water along his spine, she allowed herself to take him in. The backs of his arms and neck, the curve of his shoulder, and the breadth of his frame…

"If you joined me in the tub, this would be much easier."

It was true. If she were sitting behind him in the water, she'd have easier access to him, but that would require her to remove her garment. When she didn't answer, Harry turned to look at her as he leaned back into the tub until his shoulder was pressed into her thigh. "Keep going."

"Your back is hidden. I can't reach—"

"Then here." He took her hand with the cloth and pulled it over his chest. The new angle of him, his back to her as she leaned forward and slowly ran the rag along the solid muscle of his pectorals, felt quite salacious. But she continued wiping and cleaning him. When he leaned his head back against her thigh, she gasped and paused her motions.

He laughed, his eyes closed. "Oh, mouse… Calm yourself."

She slowly began to rub over the skin of his chest as she looked down at his face. His features were tranquil as he moaned, the lower she dipped the rag. She had no intentions of dragging it too low, but he seemed to be enjoying it as she ran it over his stomach.

Glancing down further, she could make out something dark between his legs, and then the member attached to him as it swayed with the water's movement. It was indecent of her to be looking, but her curiosity was acute. And besides, she'd seen it before already. She knew what he looked like, and right then, it seemed so harmless as it was distorted beneath the surface of the water.

"Lower."

Y/n blinked, casting her sight back to his face. She hesitated to bring the cloth lower against him, but figured she didn't need to go that low. There were other areas she could clean, other spots she could run the rag against. So she leaned in further and wiped down to his hip and the top of his thigh.

He let out a breathy groan and spread his legs the slightest. "Good."

She smiled at the praise. She was doing something right for once. Trailing the cloth to his other hip and down to the top of his thigh, he rocked his hips upward and moaned. When he turned his head, rolling it over her thigh, she felt his warm breath sneaking under the cloth of her chemise.

The moment was entirely too intimate. Harry was quite amenable in that moment, and the way he had used her thigh as a pillow felt sweet. Something about how tired he seemed and the way his eyelids were closed as he puffed out shallow breaths made her body heat. She didn't understand why she was responding to him that way.

But then he lifted an arm out of the water and reached behind himself, his hand pressed over her thigh, and then he squeezed as he moved his palm up to her hip. Her light colored chemise wetted under his touch, and she could see her skin coming through the damp material. She watched as his thumb gently ran along the bend of her thigh.

"My Lord…" She didn't know what she was to say, but she knew she had to say something. Anything… "You're getting my clothes wet."

"Then take them off."

She swallowed and lifted the rag away from him. "That's—"

"Improper? Is that what you were going to say?" Harry pushed himself from his spot in the tub and turned to look at her directly.

He pulled at her hip and grinned as she dropped the rag into the tub and gasped. She loved how it felt to have his hands on her, but she was too embarrassed to admit it as she writhed away from him and stood from the tub to step away.

The King leaned forward against the tub, his elbows on the spot she'd been sitting. "Where are you going?"

"I'm… You're the devil!" She said as her body thrummed with wanton heat.

He let out a loud laugh and felt something slick under his palm. Looking down to the stone, he stitched his brows together and drew a finger through the moisture before he brought it up to sniff. He dropped his mouth open in surprise as he looked at her. "Little mouse… This is not water. Come here at once and let me see."

"No." She looked away from him as she clutched the back of her chemise. She knew very well what it was, she just hadn't expected it to seep through the linen down to the stone. She'd only recently begun to understand the mechanics of how her body reacted to being aroused ever since Harry showed her the way she could make herself feel.

"Yes." He spoke firmly, his green eyes boring into her body as her chest heaved. "Come here and we'll take care of this for you. Now I see why you're so pent up. You need a release, don't you? It's been a hard few days for you."

She shook her head and looked down at her bare feet. She was doing everything she could to be a good girl, to do the right thing by God. But the king, whom she was certain was the devil himself, tempting her, made it unimaginably hard to keep righteous.

"Have you been taking good care of your little leaky spout like I showed you?"

She let out a wobbly noise and closed her eyes to pretend that question had never been uttered.

"I think you have. You very much enjoyed it when I showed you how to touch your little coo. Has it been good? I'm sure you were unable to whilst back at your tenement, but certainly you know well the kind of joy it brings when you have privacy."

She swallowed, the sound clicking loudly in the room. "No."

"Yes. Come here."

Opening her eyes, she let her sight trail over his arms and his face as he leaned into the tub so casually. Like what he was saying wasn't unscrupulous. He was so well-favored in looks that it almost wasn't fair. How was she to remain a proper lady?

"Was it me you thought of when you touched yourself?"

Shaking her head, she quickly glanced away. It was hard to maintain eye contact when she was lying.

"No? Then Lane? Your friend? You thought of him?"

Setting her eyes back on his, she shook her head. "No! Of course not!"

He smiled. "You don't fancy him then?"

"Never. Not like that."

"What about me? Do you fancy me, Y/n? Be honest. I can already tell when you're not being forthright. You can't even look me in the eye when you answer falsely."

Her skin felt like she'd fallen into a patch of stinging nettles as he kept his eyes on her. He'd figured out her little signal. She was no good at lying. But she didn't want him to have the satisfaction of knowing how he made her feel deep down.

"I want you here now. Come sit or I'll get out and force you to."

Still clutching the back of her chemise, she stepped forward slowly until she was next to the tub. Harry reached up for her hip and pulled. "Sit."

Y/n placed her hands down on the ledge and sat, but Harry pulled at her again until her legs were in the water and the bottom of her chemise was wet. Her heart was galloping in her chest as he placed his hands on her thighs. "You're going to be my wife. Yes?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"That's right. You're mine. So when I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it for me. I don't ask much of you, Y/n," he spoke as he ran his hands up and down her thighs, then hooked his thumbs under the hem of the material and brought it upward to her mid-thigh. "You needn't worry much about anyone else asking you to do something. Just me. Yes?"

She nodded again and watched as his thumbs pushed upward under the chemise over her skin and she thought she would faint.

"What did you eat last night?"

"Uhh… roasted potatoes and cream, salted fish, bread and butter, apples."

He smiled at her as he paused his hands at the top of her thigh, and she felt her whole body flush in embarrassment. If he lowered his sight and peeked, he'd see her full quim she was sure.

"Good. You're eating well. And you slept well too, I presume?"

She nodded, trying to keep still so he didn't conclude how much she was affected by his hands on her.

"You like this."

Blinking, she turned her sight to the table with the water pitcher without answering.

He laughed softly and ran his thumbs along the curve of her thigh where it met her hip. "That's a yes. And what about this?"

She felt his fingers press into the flesh at the inside of her thigh as he pulled and spread her legs. She looked down quickly and sucked in a sharp inhale at the sight. It was lewd for him to see her like that. And yet… She was curious.

"Keep going?" He looked up at her, an eyebrow raised.

"I don't know…" She gulped.

"You don't know? Then, how about I just keep going until you say stop? Yes?"

She nodded. "Okay."

He shifted his gaze further down to her privy parts, and she closed her eyes when she felt his thumb slide against her crease. He hissed, gripping her thigh harshly as he inspected her bits and moved in closer to get a better look.

"Very pretty, little mouse." She felt his thumb slip down further and softly massage until there was a little intrusion. She opened her eyes and watched as the tip of his thumb disappeared into her hole.

Snapping her thighs closed, Harry shot his eyes back up to her and removed his fingers. "Stop?"

It hadn't hurt her, but it was the embarrassment that had her shying from his touch. "I… I don't know. It's… not right."

"What's not right? The way a man and woman enjoy one another? Is that what's not right? Why would God go through the trouble of making humans with parts that can find pleasure in touch?"

"I think it's just meant for the sacrament of marriage."

"So, stop, then?"

She looked down at her legs dangling into the water and wished she were more bold like the girls she'd read about in her stories. The ones who'd found their lovers before they were wed and allowed themselves the indulgence of pleasure.

Harry gently wrapped his fingers around the space just above her ankle. "Look at me, mouse."

She looked into his green eyes and felt like she was being torn apart by her conscience. She'd never wanted to give in to her carnal pleasure as much as she did with Harry. And she never imagined that a man like him would defend her honor more than once. He was crude and undisciplined, but there was something tender, just for her, underneath the cold and pompous performance.

"Do you know why your little coo gets all wet like this, if not for the enjoyment of the act? It's human nature. It's how we were made. You do not need to be shy with me. If you want it, you can have it. As you've seen before, God will not smite you for such a thing as this."

The skin on her ankle where his hand was gripped felt warm, and it sent a wave of wicked craving through her insides. She wanted to reach toward him and push the curl from his forehead and slide her finger down his prominent nose over his plush pink lips just to see what he'd feel like under her fingertips. She wished she were brave enough to slip into the tub with him and fall into the temptuous ways of a dauntless woman.

He released her ankle and stood from the water, his strong, denuded body wet and dripping before her. She glanced only briefly at the organ hung heavy at her eye level before tilting her head back to look up at him. He bent as he took her chin in his hand. "What is it that you want? Tell me now."

She shook her head. "I don't know. I'm confused."

He puffed out a laugh and let go of her chin before he stepped from the tub. "Aren't we all, Y/n? No one really has the answers. Everyone is confused. You just have to learn to speak up for what you want most and hope that it wasn't the bad choice. No one can guide you but yourself."

She turned to watch as he pulled a robe over his body and walked toward his balcony. What did she want most? What if it was the bad choice?

Pulling her legs from the water, she stepped from the tub and guardedly followed behind him, the bottom half of her chemise soaked, which sent a chill over her heated skin. She stopped at the balcony door and coasted her eyes over the view of the castle garden with its fountains and tall trees. In the late spring, it would be a lovely place to stroll through, she thought. Harry was leaned into the stone railing, the tips of his curls in his damp hair already drying from the cool air whisping through it.

He was the sort of man who women whispered about. Both because he had such a rakishly handsome face (and form) and because he had the most brutish devil-may-care attitude. It made him quite a fascinating attraction. But the current of care he had for her underneath his thoughtless exterior was what drew Y/n's curiosity the most.

"You may do with me as you please. Make the decision for me. I won't say no." It took everything in her to spit the words out.

He turned and placed an elbow over the stone to lean into as he looked at her, his head cocked to the side as if she were a peculiar creature. "That does not please me. Indeed, I do not like being told no, but even worse is when I'm told yes and it's a lie."

"Then yes. I want to know. I may as well learn. Not just to please you but to discover my own pleasure."

Pushing himself from the stone, he blinked in surprise, a ghost of a smile turning the edge of his lip upward. "Then tell me what it is you want. Speak plainly."

She glanced behind her at the bed and then back at the king. "I'll… I could lie on the bed, and you could touch me again. Maybe…" She looked down and felt every atom of her being light up with scorching embers. "I'd like to feel your kiss."

She hadn't even noticed that he'd stepped in front of her until she saw his bare feet standing before her. Lifting her head upward to meet his gaze, she could have melted from the warmth on his face. "I haven't kissed you yet, have I?"

Harry placed his wide palm on her frozen cheek, and she closed her eyes. He hadn't kissed her, but the tender touch had her skin sizzling and her heart racing. "You haven't yet kissed me. No."

Blinking her eyes open to look at him again, she watched his irises smooth across her features and drag over her lips slowly as his thumb slid down her cheekbone. "Then we must remedy that mistake."

She'd been kissed before. Lane had been drunk, and she gave in to his persistent bickering to shut him up and to sate her own curiosity. It was hard and dry and smelled of gin and ale and sweat. It hadn't been what she imagined a kiss should be.

So, when Harry nudged his nose against hers, and she felt his hand soft on her hip, she knew it before he'd even closed the gap between their lips, that this would be the kind of kiss she'd always daydreamed of.

She felt his breath over her lips, and his fingers squeezed her skin as his thumb dragged gently at her temple before he pressed his smooth mouth to hers, and the noise of her doubt was silenced. She hadn't even realized that her hands were clutched over the fabric of his robe at his chest, like he would drift away as if in a dream if she didn't hang on tight.

He opened and closed his lips around hers in soft, careful motions, and she stepped closer, beckoned by the pull of his hand at her side. She parted her lips to mimic how he was kissing her, and he moaned into her mouth. She had no time to be startled by the moan and that it signified his delectation, when she felt the wet tip of his tongue lave over her bottom lip before he pulled it into his mouth gently.

Oh god! She was wrong about everything! He didn't need to confess an undying love or obsession that was not there. He only needed to kiss her for her body and her mind to relent to him. It was delicate and confident, prurient and genteel… it was bewitching.

Did one truly not need the magical bounds of love to bloom in rapture from a kiss? Her skin and her blood and the nails on her fingers and toes were all vibrating with the kind of sensation that she always assumed only happened when a soul had found the one it was predestined to.

His hand slowly pushed away from her face and wound to the back of her head as his other reached across her lower back until she was flush against his chest. Her heart fluttered so rapidly at her brazen reach, her hands moving upward of their own accord until she'd pushed her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

Even with the chilled wind whipping over her thinly clothed frame, her blood burned hot. If he took her then and laid her in his bed and claimed her virginity, she thought she'd not say no. Because what was this? Why was the subtle unanchoring of her morals and her posture on right and wrong suddenly categorized as a lie and a truth? The thick veil of deception was quickly trampled by just a kiss. What else would she soon uncover?

When he parted from her, he did not remove his hands, but he set his gaze against hers with a soft wonder that carried over to his features. Slowly, she pulled her fingers from his hair and placed her palms on his shoulders, all in silence. Was he in awe just as she was? Surely not.

But his delicate touch at the back of her neck was an homage to something profoundly affectionate. It had all been unexpected. Perhaps even for him.

"I have much to do today, else I'd remain here with you. It's nearly ten, breakfast will be served promptly. We'll call for Phoebe to help you dress and begin your day."

He stepped away, and it was then that Y/n could feel the harsh wind cutting through the linen to her flesh. She stood, confounded, as she watched the king walk back into his room to dress himself. Frozen in her spot, she let her mind wander to her childhood when she used to play pretend that her prince had found her. He'd sweep her up, take her away, and they'd fall madly in love and rule the kingdom together. Was it something she'd somehow foreseen, or was it just the silly imagination of every young girl who wished for something better?

Confounded, maybe, but Y/n was armed with a new awareness, a definite truth that she hadn't been privy to before. That even those who mean well can tell a lie, and truth can be found in the most unexpected ways. It was an awakening for her to see the way her heart could soar, as if God himself had elicited it. And right then, her heart was in flight like a bird that knew the way it must go with an instinct that directed its path. It was not God that guided the way. It was her.

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[deikshen]

The idea of Shang Qinghua as a fallen God was hitting me HARD-

I mean, he was some kind of civil God in the heavens, even then recognized for his prose, for the epic tales that would later become a reality, giving him the title of prophet, "The God who sees Beyond Time", "The God Who Inks the Pages of Destiny."

He rose from the lowest ranks as an adjunct god to an important position, becoming one of the most recognized and venerated civil gods of the heavens -he always responded to all the offerings, the one who appeared most in dreams, the one who solved the most situations with his own hands. The civil god with the most temples, the one to whom incense and prayers were given before the imperial exams, the one to whom even those learning to write gave small offerings in search of his erudition to learn faster.

So, something happened. Did he betray the heavens? It was discovered that he had risen to his position through corrupt means? Did he get into a debate with some vengeful martial god? The stories could be many, but the result is always the same: the civil god fell. Where he once had hundreds of temples, now they didn't even offer him incense. And Shang Qinghua, there, bored, was simply... tired. People remembered him for his stories, so he could never know the sweet embrace of death. Turned into a folk tale, his own stories, written in his own hand, being repeated and reproduced in theaters for centuries. When would this martyrdom end?

Never, apparently. And Shang Qinghua writes. He writes stories that are replicated across civilizations. He sees entire demonic races born and die. He writes about an emperor of the three realms, a heavenly demon, with a harem of beauties, a destiny, a prophecy surrounding a sword, and that only pure love could save martyred hearts blackened by fear and misunderstanding.

And after a few centuries, finally finds an artifact that will make him forgotten. He's tired. Fed up. It's been a long millennium of loneliness. Shang Qinghua collects every story he ever wrote, hides them in a deep cave, keeps them away from mortals. He burns his abandoned temples. He burns his stories, making everyone forget that there ever was a God who inks the pages of destiny.

And he dies. Finally.

Half a millennium later, Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe are on a hike. Some silly honeymoon thing, traveling the world and finding rare beasts and beautiful non-lethal plants. It's an area that was never originally described in PIDW, but Shen Qingqiu is curious; the world is vast, exquisite, stretching out with magnificent magic. And he wants to know everything.

Then he accidentally gets trapped in a silly array and opens a cave. Luo Binghe follows him, desperate, but both of them... well, even if they wanted to leave without investigating, they never could!! It seems to have been closed for a long, long time.

That's how they find a scholar's hiding place. Or so they think. Stacks and stacks of scrolls. Paintings, theater robes, masks. In the middle of the investigation, Shen Qingqiu's breath catches in his throat when, in the characters from a scroll, he reads Xin Mo.

It is difficult to understand the characters ruined by time, but the story is clear. There are prophetic legends about Xin Mo, about Luo Binghe himself (without mentioning his name other than "a baby who emerged from the Luo River with a frozen heart"), and so many, so many things... Shen Qingqiu is perplexed. What the hell is up with all this? Why was it hidden? Who wrote it? Damn, Airplane owes him some VERY good answers.

In his study in the northern palace, Shang Qinghua begins to have a very strong headache. He should go to sleep, he probably strained his eyes too much with all the paperwork, but, uh, for some reason, he really, really want to write something. An idea is starting to form in his head, like when he wrote PIDW in his other life! Maybe it'll be his next bestseller!! He has to seize the opportunity and inspiration when it hits him!!

[kim-ruzek]

I sunbathed again today and my shoulders really are committed to going red smh

[dearlenore]

AN ‘I FEEL’ STATEMENT. / S.REID / SUMMARY - Spencer and you interrogate a suspect

PAIRING: bau!reader x spencer reid / w/c: 1.7K / ???

a/n: guess who this is based on and win a cookie

Spencer didn’t even look up when you barged into the motel room.

“Don’t say it,” he said, flipping a page in the case file.

You froze in the doorway, still halfway through pulling off your FBI jacket. “Say what?”

“That the crime scene smelled like expired deli meat and failure.”

You made a face. “Okay, rude. That’s classic FBI fieldwork ambiance.”

He looked up and smirked. “You’re predictable.”

You tossed your jacket on the chair and flopped onto the bed beside him. “You like me because I’m predictable.”

“I love you in spite of it.”

You stuck your tongue out and stole the file from his hands. “Alright, Dr. Sass, what do we know?”

“Third victim, male, 30s, found in an alley behind a gas station that sells ‘hot dogs’ that may or may not be actual meat,” Spencer replied with a snarky tone , leaning back against the headboard. “Ligature marks, same positioning as the first two. Garcia’s running facial rec now.”

You flipped through the photos. “This guy looks like my ex.”

Spencer tilted his head. “Which one? Also…You dated a guy with a neck tattoo that says Loyalty Over Everything?”

“He had a motorcycle and a soft spot for cats. It was a phase…. And the tattoo said ‘I’m a dick’ in Chinese.”

“I sincerely hope your standards have risen.”

You gave him a smug look. “Please. I’m dating a literal genius with three PhDs. I upgraded.”

He hummed. “Four soon.”

“Whatever,” you said, nudging his arm. “You’re basically the FBI’s version of a trophy husband.”

He blinked. “Are you saying I’m your trophy husband?”

“Yeah. Except instead of a yacht I got… trauma and access to crime scenes. I guess?”

Spencer rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips. “Romantic.”

You snickered. “That’s what they all say.”

For a while, you worked in comfortable silence, both reading over the files. The motel TV buzzed in the background, playing a rerun of some bad soap opera where the acting was worse than your last polygraph subject.

“So,” you said eventually, “you think this guy’s trying to make a point? The symmetry, the posing, the weird ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’ energy of it all?”

Spencer looked thoughtful. “He’s definitely performing. But it’s subtle. Less drama, more… statement.”

“Like a TED Talk, but make it murder.”

“Exactly.”

You laughed. “I fucking hate Ted talks, people who talk for hours like that are so annoying.”

He glanced sideways at you. “Speak for yourself. I’m adorable.”

“You’re adorable in a ‘my girlfriend wants to kick my ass daily’ kind of way.”

“To be fair, you want to kick everyone’s ass. Some more sensually than others.”

“HEY! Me and Emily had a deal. Have you seen— actually don’t answer that I’d have to kill you.”

“I find you so oddly attractive.” He said, looking a bit perplexed by his own taste.

You bumped his shoulder gently. “You always say that like you’re surprised.”

Spencer gave you a soft look, the kind he saved for when the world got too heavy. “I’m not. You’re annoying and incredible.”

You grinned. “Aw. You’re such a sap when we’re surrounded by homicide photos. You should be more mindful of the dead,”

“Don’t ruin it.”

He leaned in to kiss you, brief and warm. Then he stole the case file back like the nerd he was.

“Fine,” you said, standing up and stretching. “I’ll go see if Morgan found anything useful, or if he’s just flirting with the local deputy again.”

“Tell him if she has a cowboy hat, he has my blessing.”

You grabbed your jacket, pausing at the door. “If I get shot, tell the team I died being hotter than all of them.”

Spencer looked up with a totally deadpan expression and whistled. “That goes without saying.”

You blew him a kiss and shut the door behind you, already drafting what you’d say to Morgan when you saw him.

Eventually , you’d caught the guy.

The suspect sat cuffed to the table, arms crossed, expression somewhere between cocky and confused. He’d asked for a lawyer three times. The team knew it. So did you. But now he was suddenly cooperative—and you had a feeling that had less to do with his conscience and more to do with the fact that Morgan had promised he’d be “dealing with Dr. Reid next.”

What he didn’t know?

He was getting both of you.

You stepped into the interrogation room, Spencer behind you, both of you in sync like you were about to perform a synchronized FBI ballet—but with more psychological warfare.

Outside the one-way glass, Morgan muttered, “This’ll be interesting.”

Inside the room, you dropped into the chair across from the suspect and offered a sugary smile.

“Hi, Marcus. Love the scowl. Very tough guy who definitely has never cried in a 90s Honda civic. Or was it a Toyota?”

Spencer sat beside you, calm and collected, opening the file in front of him like he was about to politely destroy a man’s entire worldview.

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “So they sent the nerd and the girlfriend?”

You smiled wider. “Aw. You think I’m just the girlfriend. That’s cute.”

Spencer didn’t look up. “Statistically, assuming a woman is less competent in a professional setting increases the likelihood of public humiliation by seventy-three percent. But don’t worry, we’ll keep it between us.”

“For real? You just know that?” The suspect hissed.

“No asshole, I made it up…” Spencer mumbled, still looking at the file and reading it closely.

You slid the photo across the table—victim number two. “Let’s talk about this guy. You were seen outside his apartment the night he was killed. Coincidence, or did ya get the first time murder jitters?”

“I didn’t kill anyone.”

Spencer’s voice was deceptively light. “We didn’t say you did. You said that. Interesting.”

You leaned in, resting your chin on your hand. “Also interesting? That your fingerprints were on the door handle, and the doormat has your boot tread on it. You’re either involved or you’re just deeply nosy.”

Marcus shrugged. “Maybe I was there. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh, honey,” you said, voice syrupy-sweet. “People like you never do things for no reason. You can’t even microwave instant soup without making it about your masculinity.”

Spencer coughed like he was covering a laugh.

“Also if you’re microwaving soup shame on you. Put it in a damn pot on the stove like the rest of us.” You groaned, knowing damn well you did it yesterday.

“Look,” Marcus said, sitting up straighter. “I don’t have to say anything to you.”

You looked around the room , faux confusion on your face. He literally asked for you?

Spencer tapped the table twice. “Totally fair. You’re exercising your rights. But just to clarify, you’re not denying you were there. So if we subpoena your phone, we’re not going to be shocked by GPS data, right?”

You leaned toward Spencer and whispered loudly, “Is this the part where we pretend we don’t already have that?”

He nodded seriously. “Yes, for dramatic effect.”

Marcus shifted. “You’re bluffing.”

“Buddy,” you said, leaning back. “The FBI does two things really well: crush dreams and ruin lives. And my boyfriend here’s got a PhD in both.”

Spencer added, “Technically only one, but I did minor in destroying egos.”

“Oh for real? That’s fine I have a masters in being better than most people and humbling men. I think that’ll suffice.” You replied.

Outside the glass, JJ blinked. “Are they… flirting? In the middle of an interrogation?”

Hotch muttered, “I think it’s working?”

Back inside, the suspect was starting to sweat, his earlier confidence deflating like a balloon at a sad birthday party.

You pulled out another photo—this time of Marcus’s ex, who had filed a restraining order last year. You dropped it gently on the table.

Spencer’s voice was quiet. “She’s scared of you.”

“And she was like 16.”

Marcus looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor as Spencer flipped to the next page in the file.

“Her name was Emily,” he said calmly, tapping the paper. “She filed for a restraining order at sixteen. Updated it again when she turned seventeen.”

Marcus scoffed. “She was—she acted older than she was.”

You blinked. Spencer’s jaw twitched.

“Oh wow,” you said, leaning forward. “Do you have an I feel statement about that?”

Spencer didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, like—‘I feel like I want to date children’?”

You nodded thoughtfully. “That’s the vibe I’m getting too. Really leaning into the predator energy.”

“I’m not a predator,” Marcus snapped, defensive now, angry. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Spencer arched a brow. “We literally read your search history.”

You added, “And the restraining order. And the texts. And your very creative Reddit username.”

“Subtle wasn’t your strong suit,” Spencer muttered.

You leaned back in your chair, folding your arms. “So here’s what we do know about you, Marcus: you’re insecure, violent when women say no, and very interested in people who are still in Algebra II. That about cover it?”

He opened his mouth—then shut it again.

“That’s what I thought,” you said sweetly, before glancing over at Spencer with a grin. “See? We’re so good at this.”

He smiled back. “Terrifyingly good.”

“You think this is funny?” Marcus snapped, finally rattled. “This little good cop, bad cop thing?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Good cop? You sweet summer child.”

“We’re not good cop, bad cop,” Spencer added helpfully. “We’re bad cop, worse cop.”

“I’m worse,” you chimed in. “Obviously.”

Spencer nodded. “That tracks.”

Marcus was silent, jaw tense.

You leaned in again, tone shifting. “Look. You talk to us, you get some control back. You don’t, and we throw this entire file at the prosecutor and let them tear you apart. Your call.”

Spencer added, “Statistically, cooperating suspects receive lighter sentences. Not that you seem like a man who cares about consequences, given your stunning history of rage texting and unpaid parking tickets… and dating children.”

You smiled. “Seriously, ten tickets? What are you, allergic to parallel parking?”

Marcus stared at the table, finally cracking.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” he muttered.

You and Spencer exchanged a glance.

“Okay,” you said, sitting back. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”