#excusing himself from the plot

[girderednerve]

i forgot how intense the s2 finale is—i remembered miranda, i remembered flint sitting there silent on trial, i remembered vane signalling the guns—but the cuts between flint opening fire on charlestown & silver's leg coming off, each of them forced by his own choices into grim legend. yay 💖

[cardassianapplebees]

Watched "Treachery, Faith, and the Great River"

Weyoun 6 fanclub I am running at the clubhouse door at full speed

[windor-truffle]

soooo I'm in the final dungeon of the main arc now 😅😅😅 sorry for not posting for so much of the story, hopefully I can come back and explain my many thoughts about it later, albeit very out-of-order. But I've always loved the endgame, so here's my very biased thoughts on a few of the skits at least:

ajskdsjf great question. I'm just gonna let Asbel pitch my long fic for me from now on 😅

On that point though, this is just further proof of that recurring character trait in which Asbel doubts his own virtues (probably because he "doesn't know [his] own feelings very well"). The backstory skit prior to this really drives this home:

Even I, an angst-loving fanfic author writing this exact premise, didn't have him go that far, though like Asbel I can't say with complete certainty that no possible universe could exist where this happens— extreme degrees of isolation, manipulation, and insanity could maybe get him to that point. But from my own fanfic take on his character, which I try to draw from canon evidence as much as possible, Asbel doesn't reach the "i wanna destroy the world" level simply because he's NOT like Richard, or Lambda for that matter— he's actually quite opposite from them as their foil.

Asbel's never been shown to harbor resentment or want revenge— not at Hubert for usurping him, not at the unknown Fendelian soldier who struck down his father. There's no skits in which he joins Richard in despising Cedric, even though the man murdered the king and tried to kill Asbel's dear friend too. Even Asbel's KO quote in battle isn't resentful, lamenting that "[he]failed everyone" instead of cursing his enemies for striking him down. I genuinely cannot think of a moment in canon in which Asbel seems to hate someone, but maybe my confirmation bias is blinding me to a good example (funnily enough, the closest moment I can think of rn is a skit in L&L in which Hubert tells him that Raymond's been stalking Cheria, and Asbel responds with a forced compliment laced w barely suppressed rage bc he doesn't want to insult Hubert's family 😅 but that's still more indicative of protective jealousy than resentment).

Asbel does get angry and defensive sometimes, but any hate he has is nearly always directed inward— for example, he doesn't swear vengeance against all monsters after one kills Sophie, he instead vows to make himself stronger so he'll never fail to protect someone again. He's driven by a sense of justice and protecting others rather than getting even or inflicting pain, he empathizes readily with his enemies even when they've hurt him or his loved ones, and he refuses to accept a reality in which others must suffer (and if anyone should have to suffer, he'd always rather it be himself; that's what it means to protect someone).

In short, I think that if Lambda had been with Asbel and forced Asbel to choose between saving himself or saving the world, Asbel would always choose the world. Even if he had lived through additional horrors bc some bastard author wrote him into a miserable role-swap AU 😅

[lokissweater]

DON’T HAVE TO GUESS

{yuta okkotsu x f!reader}

summary: yuta is the greatest boyfriend to ever grace this earth. one problem though? he refuses to touch you out of fear of making you uncomfortable or disrespecting you (no matter how bad he wants it). your pent up sexual frustration is at an all time high and you’re sick of him rejecting your advances, so you devise a plan to get him to crack.

content: MDNI. FILTHY SMUT, smut with plot, established relationship, afab!reader, pet names, references to alcohol and drinking, college party, cursing, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it y’all), dirty talk, FERAL YUTA, oral, creampie, yuta is down bad for you.

word count: 5.8k

author’s note: theming inspired by charli xcx ft. miss billie eilish’s song “guess” !! MWAH.

if you would like to know the origin story of this au, you can read it here! but it can also be read without it :)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

yuta felt like an absolute freak.

ever since you both officially became a couple, he’s been the absolute happiest man alive and never ever goes a day without showering you with affection, kisses, and telling you how much he loves and adores you.

but behind that? yuta has a little secret.

and he is gnawing at the iron bars of his enclosure in absolute torture every time you do something, anything, that can get his little horn dog mind to imagine you in thirty five different positions on his bed crying out for him.

it doesn’t even have to be something you do that remotely resembles anything sexual, so on a day where you were sitting pretty beside him in the passenger seat of his car, the blood rushing to his dick at the sight of the seatbelt strap pushing in between your puffy boobs—

he knew it was bad.

yuta’s shamefully always thought about these things— even when you were both just on best friend status. but it’s harder now, much harder for him to behave because he doesn’t want to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do. he respects you so much and always treats you like pretty porcelain glass, delicately running his hands over your body and soft face when you share a kiss or an embrace.

so now whenever he feels his heart pounding against his chest, face boiling red, and the all too familiar feeling of the lower region of his pants maybe getting a little too tight because of you, he immediately removes himself from the situation to prevent from spazzing out.

the bad thing was— this happened practically every single day and nearly every other hour, to the point where it was blatantly obvious and you were completely and utterly confused as to why.

every time you stand up on your tippy toes to give him a sugary kiss, arms wrapped around his neck and yuta’s arms around your waist, the makeout doesn’t last for more than thirty seconds before he’s pulling apart from your lips with a smack!, walking away with his head down, hands tight at his sides, and with a lame excuse for his abrupt leave.

every time you accidentally drop something and bend over to retrieve it with yuta standing directly behind you— when you come back up and turn your head to face him, he’s already staring back at you with wide eyes, lips pressed into a thin line and cheeks flushed pink. you’d ask then if he was okay, to which he would respond by a quick nod of the head and a dash out of the room to leave for a moment… again.

he did it so much to the point where he eventually avoided touching you all together, and you absolutely hated it. yuta’s always been affectionate with you, he’s never not touched you, and on a day where you swung a leg over his lap to straddle him on his bed, eager to show him a little loving and a smooch— you had just about had it when he placed his hands on your hips as you were trailing your mouth down his neck, physically pulling you off his lap and leaving the room— muttering about god knows what.

until you noticed.

you and yuta were seated on your living room couch watching a movie, the both of you dozing off gingerly as his head was resting against your shoulder, undoubtedly exhausted after a days worth of college classes and homework.

you went to place a sleepy hand on his upper thigh, about to tell him that you both should move upstairs to your room and sleep, but when your fingers accidentally grazed his crotch area, yuta shot up like a light and startled you awake— eyes blown wide and frantic.

“whatareyoudoing—”

“yu! my god—” you placed a hand over your heart, chest heaving. “i was just gonna tell you that we should go up to my room and sleep.”

yuta’s shoulders visibly dropped, and he closed his eyes momentarily before licking his lips, exhaling deeply.

“h-oh my god—“ he opened his eyes again after regulating his breathing and looked at you with worried eyes. “fuck i’m sorry baby… did i scare you?”

you gave him a little nod and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders then, kissing your cheek and the side of your head apologetically. “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i did that.”

but you did, and it was like a switch had gone off in your head, everything finally making sense.

every moment he would suddenly leave, or remove you from him when you tried anything, or every expression and reaction he made when you would wear something tight or short, all fell into place like a delicious puzzle piece.

so when he lead you to bed and cuddled you up innocently to sleep that night, you came up with a plan to test this theory.

you wanted yuta to crack.

unfortunately, your first attempt was a fail.

yuta had plans to take you out on a little summer picnic date by the beach, and when he arrived at your house and you texted him to come in and make himself at home in your room, you were absolutely giddy, fixing your dress and applying the finishing touches to your makeup in the bathroom.

you had slipped on a long, skin tight black spandex dress for the day— one that hugged every inch and crevice of your body like a vice, a mischievous look in your eyes as you ran your fingers through your styled hair before leaving, practically skipping down the hall back to your room.

the minute you came in, yuta’s eyes flew open.

“hi baby!” you greeted sweetly, walking over to where he sat at the edge of your bed and leaned down, planting a soft kiss to his blushing cheek.

score.

“h-hi.”

“do you like it?” you asked eagerly, doing a little twirl for him and mentally making sure to pop your ass out a little more in his direction. “i bought it just yesterday!”

“i.. i do, baby.” he squeaked, voice hoarse and mind in a full blown fucking panic when you took his hands in yours and ushered him to stand.

but he remained stiff as a board, arms glued to his sides and hands in tight fists as he looked at you, face strained.

you playfully rolled your eyes and took his hands, guiding them towards you. “you can touch me, silly. here— feel the spandex-”

and you purposely dropped his hands to land right on your ass with a smack.

yuta immediately inhaled sharply through his nose and choked, his face dropping straight into the crook of your neck to hide his delirious expression. yuta was biting the inside of his cheek so unbelievably hard that he tasted metal, his eyes squeezing shut as nasty thoughts flashed through his mind like a forest fire.

holy shit holy shit holy shit—

“f..feels nice,” he muttered into your neck, and you grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning your lips up to his ear.

“does it?”

you felt yuta giving in and slowly squeeze the plump of your ass, and he felt like an absolute fucking monster at the way he was feeling you up when in his eyes, you were just innocently showing him your pretty little long dress.

but just when you thought you had won, your smile wide with delight, he tore away from you and excused himself from the room with a quick kiss to your cheek, leaving you dumbfounded and defeated.

on your second attempt, you refused to accept defeat and planned more diligently than before, his tiny mess up from last time motivating and proving to you that your plan could bear fruit.

this day was particularly scorching, one of the hottest days of the year as you and yuta decided to get ice cream after one of his lectures from a shop down the street, an attempt at cooling off and escaping the heat.

you were sitting on a cute bench under shade just outside the shop as you waited for your boyfriend to come back, nervous and wearing a low cut baby doll top that showed a little more boob than you originally intended, but due to the circumstance at hand… the more the merrier!

after a few minutes, the door to the shop chimed open and yuta stepped out— two vanilla ice cream cones with rainbow sprinkles delectably adorning the pair of soft serves in his hands. he carefully handed one to you and grinned.

“here baby.”

you took a cone from his offering hand gratefully and licked a little off it as he sat down.

“thank you!” you responded sweetly, and it made his heart skip a beat as you both sat there, enjoying the summer heat and each others gentle company.

without yuta noticing though, you had stopped licking your ice cream as he chatted to you about the things he had to do for the coming week, attentively listening to him as you patiently waited— the vanilla soft serve glistening under the heat and slowly melting, droplets oozing off the sides until one landed right on your tit.

score.

“oh!” you gasped, looking down and pouting, “i spilled someee.”

yuta quickly reached to the side and pulled out a napkin he had brought from the shop, extending it out towards you but faltering when you shook your head frantically.

“no! it’ll go to waste! and i can’t reach down and lick it off myself…” you huffed and looked at him with the cutest face he had ever seen you make… you smirking deviously on the inside. “can you lick it off for me, yu? please.”

you had said it so nonchalant, so casual like it was the easiest most normal thing in the world to do, but it had yuta’s body and mind freezing over as you scooted closer to him, waiting.

“h— huh?” he stammered, unable to take his eyes away from your tits, the sight of ice cream drooling down over them an image he wanted to tattoo behind his eyelids to look at forever— his cheeks bright pink.

“hurry! it’s gonna stain my top,” you whined, putting a hand on his shoulder as yuta let you tug him down, him ogling and literally gawking over your chest.

without another thought, yuta stuck his slick tongue out and slowly ran it over the top of your puffy tit just like you had asked him to, the angel on his shoulder screaming at him to stop as his tongue continued to trail up your chest and around your neck, your breath hitching in surprise.

the sound of your reaction broke him out of his trance and he flinched away from you, chest heaving and pupils blown out with the biggest pit of shame in his stomach, feeling like a fucking pervert.

but you, your shoulders evidently deflated in disappointment as you pressed your thighs together, trying to mend the buzzing ache between your legs as your mind thought over and over about what he did, something you didn’t expect at all, and something you wanted him to do again.

“let’s… let’s go for a walk, yeah?” yuta spoke quickly and gently to you, taking your hand that was on his shoulder and pulling you up off the bench, him confused as to why you had a frown on your face.

but for the third and final attempt, you were utterly and hopelessly desperate. every time you guys hung out, yuta was still the absolute sweetest and did everything he could to make you happy, yet he still just wouldn’t touch you, and it was driving you fucking crazy.

you were getting reckless at this point, your pent up sexual frustration sky rocketing with every passing day, but you were completely oblivious to the fact that yuta was dealing with the same form of torture.

except way, way worse.

it’s gotten to the point where just the sound of your sweet sugary voice over the speakers of his phone has him biting down on the edges of his pillow, arms wrapped tightly around himself and his body curled up into a pathetic ball of despair, his dick rock solid and his mind filled with thoughts that consisted of strictly just you.

so when you called him up and asked if he wanted to come with you to one of your girl friend’s parties, yuta knew he was one hundred percent fucked.

he wanted to keep respecting you. he wanted you to know how special you were to him and how serious he was about your relationship with him, and he sure as hell did not want you to feel uncomfortable because he was a horny piece of shit that didn’t know self control and wanted to have sex every five minutes.

except he was a horny piece of shit, has always been one over you, and yuta knew the second he saw you dolled up in your pretty little dress looking absolutely lethal, he was going to lose it.

and he did.

with his arms crossed over his chest and a tight hand over his mouth, he nodded and hummed out a series of “mhm’s” at everything you were saying as you finished up getting ready, his eyebrows pinched together in complete agony at the sight of you.

the pastel green glittery dress you had on was so criminally short that any inch of movement you made, the bottom of your ass cheeks would peak out from below the hem of your dress.

he slightly lowered his hand from his mouth. “baby?”

“yeah?” you responded softly and turned your body to face him, spritzing your vanilla coconut perfume over your frame.

“i-isn’t your dress— a little short?”

you put the perfume bottle down on your vanity desk and looked down, internally giddy that he noticed the length, your plan coming into fruition.

score.

“oh is it?” you tugged at the hem of your dress, scooting it back down. “does it look bad? i—”

“no no!” yuta’s hands shot out frantically as he shook his head. “you’re so so pretty baby, the most gorgeous little thing i’ve ever seen,” he took a few steps toward you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, being mindful of your perfectly styled hair that made him weak in the knees. “i just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable for the rest of the night and not enjoy yourself.”

your heart melted at his words and consideration as you smiled warmly, eyes sparkling up as you gave him a cute peck on the lips and hugged him back, “you’re so nice to me, yu.”

yuta snorted but looked down at you fondly. “that’s the bare minimum baby.”

“so.” you peeled away from him and walked over to the bed to pick up your purse, swinging the strap over your shoulder. “all i do is make you ham sandwiches after your soccer practices.”

yuta laughed loudly, “that’s all you do?”

“yup!”

he nudged your shoulder playfully with his, a grin on his face as he walked down the stairs with you and out the door to his car.

“brat.”

at the party, your plan was to be as devilish and flashy as possible, showing off every curve and angle of your body to your boyfriend in means of getting him to crack, and your ticket there was the length of your dress—

but more specifically?

what you had on underneath.

when you met up with the rest of your friend group that were all residing on the long lounge sofa in the living room like always, you grabbed yuta’s hand and led him over to join the rest of them. he politely greeted each and every one, keeping you close by the hip before you both settled down on the couch.

yuta wasn’t a big party person like you were, but he also didn’t particularly dislike them either. as long as you were there with him, he always ended up getting shit faced and having the time of his life with you and your friends, something that didn’t even happen when he went to parties with his own friends.

your closest girl friend that sat across from you at an angle turned her body, yelling over the music. “have you tried this?!”

she pointed to the red solo cup in her hand, and you shook your head.

“no! what is it?!”

“someone from the frat next door made a mix of malibu and pineapple rum! it’s really good here!-”

she reached over and offered her cup, and as soon as you stood to retrieve it, an idea popped into your head— eyes widening. without another thought, you moved over to stand right in front of yuta before fully and erotically bending and lunging over to reach for the cup.

he stopped breathing. he looked at the way your dress rode up literally half way up your ass and he stopped breathing.

it was so unbelievably high up that he saw the color of your underwear— a lacy black pair with little bows adorned over the sides like a present, slightly see through but enough to see the outline of your lower lips.

yuta clasped a tight hand over his mouth, but as soon as that happened he realized that whatever he was seeing, everybody else was seeing as well. including that stupid moron that had been staring at you since the moment you both got here.

in record time his trembling arms shot out and yuta grabbed the hem of your dress, tugging it back down over your ass as he wrapped an arm around your waist tightly, pulling you back to sit on his lap.

you loved that he did that, but as you sipped the drink and chatted on with your friends, you were entirely unaware of the way yuta’s arms were gripped around your waist like a lock, his forehead resting on your back with his face hidden.

yuta felt like an absolute fucking freak again as the image of your puffy lower lips outlining your lacy panties flicked over and over and over again in his mind without a break. he felt so nasty, so shameful and so hard as he tried with all of his will power to calm his breathing and stop the bouncing of his right knee, eyes screwed tight.

holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck—

he needed you so badly, needed to slip that skimpy dress off of you and bury his face in between your legs, needed to slip his swollen dick out and grope your tits and pump his—

shut up shut up shut up—

at the feeling of his leg bouncing rapidly, you looked back and slightly turned yourself, confused at the sight of his hung head that was refusing to detach from your body and look at you properly.

you placed a gentle hand at the top of his head, the feeling of his silky black hair underneath your fingers. “yu?—”

his head snapped up straightaway, and your eyes widened as you took in the way his chest was heaving and his pupils were blown out, face completely red and his body practically shivering beneath you.

you frowned, “baby? are you okay?”

you shifted once more to assess him better, but his eyes only shot back down to your ass as he felt your dress rise up again.

such pretty bows…

yuta smashed his face in against your side, eyes screwed shut.

calm down calm down calm down—

it was almost completely dark in the frat house, colors of red and blue and green bouncing across the walls of the lower level as people drank and made havoc, your friends all caught up in their own inebriated worlds to realize what was happening between the both of you.

and at the feeling of his hardened cock against your ass, you slowly smiled and finally understood— your hand coming up to stroke his cheek lovingly, the act simple and innocent, until you took his hand from your lap and agonizingly dragged it further up and up and up your thigh…

shit shit shit—

until you guided his shaking fingers to the patch of wet in between your parted thighs, the lace material up against the pads of his—

fuck it.

yuta pushed you off of his lap and stood, snatching your wrist tightly before tugging and dragging you away from the couch and through the mass of people on the dance floor.

“yuta!” you yelled over the music. “where are we going?”

you were so confused, and you worried that maybe you had pushed his buttons a little too far and that now he was upset, and judging by the way he didn’t even turn around or respond when you spoke to him, it looked like that might be the case.

you gnawed at your bottom lip in concern as he led you both up the stairs of the house— you focused on trying to keep your dress from riding completely up and him opening and closing several different doors before he found what he was looking for.

yuta dragged you in the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him, his lips instantly latching onto your cheek, desperate wet open mouthed kisses dropping down to your neck and down to your chest as you gasped.

“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry—” he repeated like a chant, voice muffled by the way he was sucking on your neck like a little leech, his fingers looping themselves in the straps of your dress before pulling down and revealing your bare tits to him.

you were wholeheartedly gobsmacked at what he was doing and you were loving every single second of it, the way his wild eyes darted over your tits and his wet lips just about drooling over them.

“i’m gonna suck your tits,” his gaze shot back up to you, chest rising and falling. “okay baby?”

a fierce blush spread over your cheeks at his words, mentally cursing yourself for wanting this so bad but feeling bashful at the wrong freaking time.

you barely even nodded before he picked you up by the waist and set you down on the counter of the sink, his wet tongue darting across the plush of your breasts and pressing flat against your nipple, your breath hitching at the feeling.

yuta sucked and nipped feverishly at your nipples, getting them slick and slippery with his spit as he squeezed at your waist desperately, your pretty moans ringing through his ears making his bulge tighten and strain against the buckle of his belt.

he trailed his tongue back up to your neck and groped the fat of your ass with his hands, subconsciously rutting into your covered lips as he whined and groaned over the warmth of your pussy.

“i— i’m gonna cum in my pants if we keep going.” he puffed out, tone constricted as he looked at you with feral half lidded eyes.

you nodded quickly. “but i want you to, yu. inside me.”

yuta’s eyes blew wide open as he shook his head, and you felt the way his hands trembled while he gripped your hips.

“we— we can’t baby,” panting, he unwillingly pulled his bulge slightly apart from your warmth and looked at you sincerely. “i can’t do that to you—“

“do what?” you asked softly, tilting your head to the side. “make love to me?”

“no— well, yes?” he dropped his forehead to rest on your shoulder and placed his hands at the edge of the counter to support his weight, groaning.

“i don’t want you to think i’m taking advantage of you or— or not respecting you and i want you to know how serious i’m taking this relationship and—”

you cupped his cheeks and made him look at you, your voice sweet and soft. “who said that? i don’t think that at all yu, and i know you’re serious about us.. i wouldn’t be sitting on this counter with my tits out if you weren’t.”

yuta laughed as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“you don’t wanna fuck me?” you whispered lewdly.

“trust me i do—”

“you don’t wanna see what kind of panties i have on under?” you pressed an open mouthed kiss to his neck. “you don’t want to maybe guess the color of my underwear?”

“oh i don’t have to guess baby,” he shook his head and grinned. “i know.”

yuta buried his face in your hair and inhaled, “has this been your plan all along pretty? to be a little slut for me and show off what you got going on down there?” he snapped his bulge back on your pussy so roughly that you jolted up by the sheer force. “to get me to fuck you? hm?”

you didn’t respond, you couldn’t respond by the way he was running and groping his hands deliciously all over your body as he spoke nasty to you. all you could do was moan stupidly.

“lucky for you, i’m just as guilty.”

he pulled your straps back over your shoulders then while sliding you off the counter, tugging the hem of your dress down over your ass before opening the door and leading you by the hand outside.

yuta ran through the halls opening and closing doors again, the both of you laughing when you would find other people fucking or making out, until he finally found an open vacant room with a bed and slammed the door closed, locking it.

his lips smashed against yours without another moment wasted, you unzipping and pulling your dress up and over yourself as he yanked his shirt off and threw it fuck knows where.

pushing you down gently on the bed, yuta took a step back to admire your perfect perfect body, the way your tits bounced with every movement you made, and the way that god forsaken lacy black underwear made you look as he just stood there and stared.

you cowered a little under his gaze, legs closing and arms crossing over your chest. “what?”

he shook his head. “i love you… so much.”

you smiled bright then, pearly whites on display as you watched him reach down and fumble with his belt frantically, sliding it off and pushing his pants down before kicking them away and hovering over you until you were both entirely bare.

yuta pressed honeyed wet kisses all the way down your body and in between your legs, shoving his face to your clothed pussy and inhaling your sweet scent, moaning as he did so.

he was so freakishly hard as he licked a long stripe up, the fabric rough and wet under his tongue as you squirmed and whined, impatient and bratty.

“you taste so sweet, baby.” he groaned, pulling your panties to the side and spitting on your clit, his index finger running delicately and slowly over your meaty slimy folds.

“fuck—” you panted, carding your fingers through his hair. “more please—”

“more?” he hummed, watching at the way you shook and shivered with his every touch as he slobbered all over your pussy like a man starved.

it was so filthy, squelching and sloshes of his mean mouth bullying your clit as your fingers flew to grip the sheets beneath you.

“eek!” you squealed, your thighs closing tight around his head as he ate, his hands coming up to force them apart.

“let me eat.”

yuta gripped the fat of your plushy thighs as his sloppy tongue moved across your lips and pussy, coaxing your syrupy cunt to pulse and jump with each lick, a knot forming at the pit of your tummy.

“i— yu, i can’t—” you tried to run away from his mouth. “i’m gonna cum—”

but he only grabbed your hips and brought you back down roughly, his rolling tongue lapping up your juices before your entire body shook with erotic ecstasy, your thighs clamping shut as you squealed and creamed on his tongue.

“fuuuucckkk,” he dragged out, coming back up and sliding your absolutely drenched and ruined panties down your shaking legs, his mouth coated and shiny and covered in you.

yuta pumped his cock a few times, and that’s when you noticed just how big he was, packing a meaty punch that had your mouth watering and desperate.

you spread your legs again as he climbed over you, sliding his dick in between your messy sticky folds before lining his fat tip against your hole.

god, yuta’s body and dick were on fucking fire, his tip slowly nudging and slightly stretching you, a pathetic whine leaving his lips at the feeling of your perfect pussy that was entirely his to fuck, a dream he’s had and yearned over for what feels like an eternity.

“m’gonna put it in,” he choked, licking his lips as he tightly gripped your waist.

you eagerly nodded, spreading your legs even wider. “please, i want you to fill me up, yu.”

and with that, yuta slowly and deliciously stretched your little cunt open, his swollen dick pushing past your tight squeezing gummy walls until he bottomed out.

“f—fuck,” he swallowed thickly. “you gotta loosen up baby you’re milking me—”

your hands gripped at his arms for support as yuta gently pumped his cock, your pussy sucking him up like a yummy lollipop and trapping him inside. “i can’t yu…” you shook your head. “you’re too big—”

his glassy eyes darkened over at your words, and he picked up a brutal pace almost instantly.

“is this— hah— what you wanted?” he reached out and pinched your rosy cheek meanly, pounding into your puffy walls as you cried dumbly. “to fuck you dumb on my dick after teasing me like that downstairs? huh?”

your eyes squeezed shut, loud pornographic moans tumbling out of your throat as he fucked you like he hated you, your tits bouncing with every hit.

a series of pat pat pat’s bounced all over the walls as yuta buried his face into your neck, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he shoved his dick inside of you over and over and over again.

“i can— hah— barely move you’re sucking me, baby.” yuta hiccuped, his eyes welling with feral tears.

it felt good, way too good and he could hardly handle it, his heart racing against his chest as he watched you make slutty faces that only fueled his erotic agony.

he fucked you full into the mattress, setting an animalistic pace as the headboard hit against the wall repeatedly.

“s—slow down, yu!” you whined, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the way his tip hit your cervix without mercy, you on the verge of cumming and creaming all over his dick.

“no—” he shook his head and looked at you, your sweaty hot bodies sticking together. “m’sorry pretty i c—can’t—”

yuta hiccuped and whined and cried at the way your greedy pussy was milking him for all of his worth, his abs tensing at the familiar feeling of his release. the amount of times yuta fisted his cock to the thought of you like a pervert, just like this, spread out and pretty, didn’t even come close or compare to the real thing laying in front of him right now.

“m’gonna pull out, okay?” he muttered. “gonna cum—“

“nuh uh!” you whined, wrapping your thighs tightly around his waist to keep him inside, your arms clutching his brooding shoulders. “i want you to dump it inside of me.”

“i— inside?!” he swallowed.

you nodded and smiled sweetly at him through your fucked out expression and puffy pouty lips, a sight he never ever wanted to forget in his life and keep the privilege of looking at every day, just for him.

yuta groaned again and shoved his face back into your neck, squishing your tits in his hands and holding on to them for dear life as you milked his cock, slamming his hips up to meet yours and you whimpering at how deliciously rough he was.

“mm— fuck!” you squealed as you felt yuta’s hot ropey cum shoot up your walls, bucket loads of it filling you to the brim as you felt your own orgasm wash over you, his hand pressing down against your lower tummy as he hiccuped against your neck.

you both grabbed on to each other as you tried to come down from your highs, your skin sticky and hot as his steamy breath fanned over your ear shakily, the booming of music downstairs shaking the walls a little and the sounds of footsteps walking down the halls filling your ears.

yuta gently peeled himself from you and slowly, delicately— pulled his dick out, his pupils dilating at the sight of his milky cum oozing out of you sluggishly.

his dizzy eyes flickered over to your dazed and tired face, smiling softly. “are you okay baby?”

you closed your eyes as he leaned down and brushed some of your hair away from your eyes, laughing a little. “yeah.”

“wait here—” he whispered before getting off the bed and walking over to what he assumed was the bathroom, retrieving a random towel.

coming back over, he tenderly spread your legs and cleaned you up, rubbing soothing circles into your ankles with his thumbs as he did so before plopping back down on the bed next to you, pulling you softly into his arms.

that was the first time you both had sex together, and as the fact registered into your head, you buried your face into his bare chest shyly.

“hm?” yuta looked down at you. “what, baby?”

“you’ve seen me naked now,” you muttered, voice faintly muffled.

he giggled lowly. “you’ve seen me naked now too.”

“your dick is big,” you leaned back a bit. “i can’t believe you’ve been keeping that thing hostage from me.”

yuta choked at your blunt statement and shook his head. “i’ve always wanted this baby, believe me.” he kissed your forehead and nuzzled his face into your neck. “i just didn’t want to disrespect you pretty so i just didn’t know if you wanted it like i did.”

“but i do—”

he laughed again, “i know you do, now i do.”

you smiled sheepishly as yuta caressed your back with his fingertips lovingly, feeling like he was at the gates of heaven with you in his arms after having shared something so intimate like that for the first time, something he only lived in his sleepy dreams prior to this moment.

“i love you, yu.” you mumbled against his chest, and his heart absolutely melted as he captured your lips in a sweet sweet kiss.

oh how he loved you, and the sight of your gorgeous naked body next to him, your breathtaking unreal face looking at him and only him with those eyes—

was something he wouldn’t trade for the world.

taglist <3: @turtlesaee @heretoreadfics

[heegyukeluv]

cross the line (lhs)

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

synopsis: “How do you know if someone is flirting with you?”  It was Heeseung’s question to you, and you were left with no option other than to show how you do it.

my's note: this is from an old prompt i had. nothing much, just some fluff and highkey desperate (and long) smut... and bestfriends to lovers 🤭i feel like i lost the plot while i was writing it, but yeah! hope y'all enjoy it

warnings: childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, kinda miscomunication?, reader blushing/turning red!, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!!), desperate hee (in many ways lol), hee is sensitive and edges himself, very slooooow and unnecessarily detailed smut, reader is not a virgin but it's her second time!! / lmk if i missed something!

wc: 14,5k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers, @ikeuverse, @tinycatharsis

“How do you know if someone is flirting with you?”

The question lingered in the air longer than Heeseung expected, but he wouldn’t blame you at all.

It was a quiet, calm Saturday afternoon. None of you had work to do or studies to draw your energy. While your back lazily rested on your couch’s armrest with your legs propped up in a triangle, Heeseung was laid on the ground after blaming the couch’s fabric for being too heated for his skin, his head opposite to yours. 

Far enough to miss your instant confused expression. 

“Huh?” You murmured with a frown, trying to figure out if you heard it correctly before diverting your attention from your phone to catch a glimpse of Heeseung’s plain eyes looking up at the ceiling. 

He had shifted his position to a relaxed one with a hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, the quiet motion of up and down following his gentle breathing. It could easily soothe your nerves to watch him serenely exist like that in the world, an opposite to his normally chaotic and teasing demeanor. 

“How do you know if someone is flirting with you?” Heeseung repeated his question once again, and you were sure now you had heard it right. It didn’t make you less puzzled though. “Like, I think I struggle to recognize what’s just a normal interaction and what’s a flirt.”

Your eyebrows were sky high as you skeptically eyed Heeseung, not believing a single word coming out of his mouth as your body stiffed a little. 

Growing up together as friends was just a quarter of your story with Heeseung.

Your moms were the typical best friends that surprisingly gave birth around the same time, resulting in you and Heeseung becoming as close as siblings due to your families proximity, although the thought of being Heeseung’s sister haunted the depths of your mind terribly nowadays.

Of course you wouldn’t mind being considered in that position when you were younger; Heeseung annoying ass bothering you all the time with the subtle hair pulls under the excuse of trying to grab your attention, or poking your sides to start a little fight that he always won, or the times he simply feigned to go for a whisper as in telling you a secret just to blow air in your ear and elicit a scream from you, were a huge behaviors proof he had somewhat sibling energy.

Your constant smacks on his shoulders and chest, along with your not-so-gentle bites on his arms, and your giggles whenever you pranked him by tossing flour at his direction when cooking together worked well to establish a strong base to that idea.

However, as you both started to grow up, things changed accordingly to your ages.

You were expectedly very comfortable around each other, and the touches once aiming to bother, switched to casual, caring ones, still having a faint of that light-hearted taunt.

Heeseung would often be seen removing an eyelash from your cheek, his fingertips brushing against your skin softly as you kept talking normally.

Or intertwining your hands when going back from school, so you wouldn’t fall whenever you tripped – and you did quite regularly.

Or, when you sat together, Heeseung would make sure to have your thighs resting on his lap so he could settle his warm hands on top of it, casually caressing your skin while watching whatever you choose to. 

It was great and heartwarming to have him like that, taking care of you even with the slightest teasing alongside genuine intentions – Heeseung struggled to demonstrate his feelings openly, so giving you princess-like treatment with a hint of his usual playful banter was his way to show how much he loved you.

Eventually, puberty hit him, and hit undoubtedly hard. 

The little kid who used to follow you around just to annoy had become the taller, handsome, and effortlessly cool teenager, surrounded by friends and making girls squeal over even the slightest interaction with him, leaving you to wonder when everything had changed that much.

You didn’t expect Heeseung to keep being friends with you the way he was before as time passed, but surprisingly he would often be choosing you over the others, such as hanging out during lunch time with you, doing his schoolworks only with you, spending a part of his pocket money with sweets for you and taking you home everyday – you lived near to each other, nonetheless he would always guide you to your door’s porch before kissing your forehead and saying his farewell. 

At some point you realized your body was reacting similarly to how girls who had a crush on Heeseung would describe when he was around; an urge to scream and giggle just because he smiled, heart pounding hard in your chest after watching him slicking back his sweaty hair while playing basketball with the boys, hands trembling with the thought of being alone for too long with him in your room.

You were starting to act awkward, your hormones messing with your head enough to leave you scared as shit, questioning what you and Heeseung were, because the definition of friendship wasn’t making any sense, seemed lacking, insufficient for what you truly, wholeheartedly wanted from Heeseung.

So your most sane decision at the time was to push him towards other girls randomly, sharing how much in love a friend of yours was with him and how worthy, pretty and intelligent she was. Or how the cheerleader’s leader would fit him perfectly and they would become the school’s model couple.

The sting in your heart was tough to deal with when he started to pick up some of your ideas and openly flirt with the said girls, sharing each step with you how friends constantly did, but you would one hundred percent rather to handle the pain of never having Heeseung as your boyfriend than the hurtful thought of losing him for good.

Then Heeseung started dating, and the girl was extremely jealous of your friendship. 

Though you swore she had nothing to worry about, Heeseung, once again, chose you, dumping the girl just a few weeks after because she said bad things about you, added to the fact that she had a list of reasons why he should end the friendship, something Heeseung would never, ever think about doing.

Despite your mind playing tricks after hearing that people could misinterpret the way Heeseung behaved with you – apparently he would be playing with your hair and giving you headpats quite too oftenly, barely keeping his hands away from you –, you tried to maintain things safely where they should be, focusing on getting over your foolish crush on Heeseung and moving on.

Eventually, little by little the so cherished friendship started to teeter the edge that crossed the line of just friends, and the casual moments started to hold a special place inside your chest.

Heeseung made no effort to help you as well, offering big and gorgeous smiles whenever he saw you as if you were everything he wanted. Laughing graciously when you hugged him so you could hear and feel his chest vibrating with it. Doing his silly little dances to cheer you up in the middle of your living room and, mostly, singing songs with his angelical voice for you to sleep during late phone calls. 

You were so terrified of reading beyond reality.

Was it really that deep?, you would question yourself when your head rested on your pillow at night, the phantom of Heeseung’s presence permeating your room after a game day together, the shared chuckles and teasing prolonging your fast heartbeats as a sweet reminder of your feelings, feelings that you never really managed to bury somewhere else other than on the tip of your tongue, craving for the release you never gave.

The friendship continued the same through the years, or, at least, you both tried to. The emotional bond that tied you two together worked almost perfectly, if you got to keep your voice silenced, if you got to keep the real feelings inside your chest, away from the possible reality.

Heeseung would be eager to share his adventures with you, from the everyday moments, like when he made a shot with his back turned to the hoop and scored, to the more secretive and sexual escapades, the ones you would rather not hear about but had to in order to support your friend spot.

It felt like a punch to the gut when Heeseung talked about his first kiss and the others that followed, each revelation stirring a mix of emotions you couldn't quite shake off, not when you wanted him to be your first kiss as well.

When you both entered college last year, once more things shifted a little.

Heeseung and you began to frequent very different places. While you gravitate towards the quiet spots, such as the library, the coffee shop, or the shade of a tree on campus to read a book in your silent, mellow atmosphere, Heeseung was willing to attend every single party he got to know about, having girls constantly kissing him in front of everyone, caring little to nothing about the talks or if the night would end up in his room.

But he never really committed to anyone.

You wondered what was the reason that held him back, considering the amount of good opportunities he had; the offers were abundant, and the line of admires long to make a curve down the square. Surely he would find the love of his life among that many options, and you had convinced yourself you were far faded from the running.

So, the question felt out of place.

“Are you really gonna try to make me believe that you don’t know when a girl is flirting with you?” You propped yourself on the couch to full face Heeseung, arching an eyebrow. “You? Of all people?”

Heeseung rolled his eyes with a sigh and a smirk, pushing himself up to sit with crossed his legs, fully aware of what you were referring to. “Don’t even start with this shit.”

You chuckled dryly, struggling to contain the bitter taste dissolving in the depths of your throat, the knot was extremely hard to swallow, to know he had fucked who knows how many girls through his life and you, on the other hand, barely had a boyfriend.

It might sound like envy, but you were just frustrated for not being any of those girls.

“What shit? The ‘last weekend I slept with three girls’ shit?” You faked a deep voice to mimic Heeseung, together with his usual cocky smile before deadpanning into a feigned teasing expression.

The episode happened a few days ago, right when you accidentally eavesdropped on him and his friends chatting while playing video games in your shared living room.

It was the typical boys’ talk that you had no intention of listening to, but unfortunately you had just reached the door’s knot to open it, then each word that came out of Heeseung’s mouth traveled straight into your ears, making your stomach drop in an unexpected pain. 

You rushed to your room, cheeks heating and tears stinging your eyes, on the verge of breaking down after hearing what he had said.

Of course you knew Heeseung was sexually active. His room was right next to yours, and though he tried to keep it quiet, the girl he once led in after mistakenly thinking you weren’t home hadn’t bothered to be discreet.

You were fully aware of his private life, the quarter that had you screaming, crying, nearly pulling out your hair and breaking some of your belongings in jealousy because it wasn’t you. 

“Y/N,” Heeseung called out seriously, accidentally bringing you back from your spiral thoughts. “You, more than anyone, know I was joking,” he averted his eyes from you, the prominent area of his cheeks heating as he added. “I literally lost my virginity not even six months ago.”

Now it was your time to roll your eyes, because yes, Heeseung did in fact lose his virginity on that said date, but he never stopped having sex ever since and it annoyed you so fucking much. While you struggled to even kiss a boy, Heeseung was out there living the best of life. Without you.

For years, you thought you hated his behavior because you couldn’t be like him, nonchalant about your crushes as if they were nothing much. You had to literally force your body not to shake when kissing someone, had to hide your sweaty palms and how all your instincts yelled for you to run away when sharing intimacy with someone.

But the actual reality was simpler. You weren’t envious of him. You didn’t want to be like Heeseung.

You wanted Heeseung.

“Whatever you say,” you muttered with a dry chuckle and dropped back on the couch, grabbing your phone to keep scrolling on tiktok, ignoring how hot your face felt after.

Heeseung grunted, his eyes darting towards your face as you absentmindedly watched videos. The boy was oblivious to the real whirlwind happening inside your chest, especially because on his side of the story, he was fighting so fucking hard to contain himself.

Every. Single. Second. 

You were the prettiest girl he ever had the chance to lay his eyes on, with the bestest personality that complemented his own just right, with the most melodic voice and laughter that made his whole world slow down in order to make his breathing ability harder. And he really wished it actually slowed down, to allow him to enjoy and appreciate every passing moment with you even deeper.

Fuck, Heeseung was unable to tell when the butterflies in his stomach started to dance along the beat of your constant presence, but the day you asked if your lipgloss was cute definitely played a big role on it.

Heeseung had a vivid memory of how gorgeous you looked wearing your brand new dress for your fifteenth birthday party, styling your strands with a hair bow and prepping your face with makeup that only accentuated your already beautiful features.

And then you turned on your heels, cheeks painted with a faint blush, big, wide, innocent eyes colored with a soft shade of brown, and your lips, oh, your fucking plump lips with a  shade of a light pink gloss adorning it, screaming for his own mouth to be pressed there.

‘Do I look cute? Does my gloss look cute?’

The question was simple and very common. Heeseung always answered yes to them, because he would always think you were pretty, even when waking up with your puffy face and half-lidded open eyes squinting because of daylight.

But there you were, making Heeseung focus intentionally more on your, now, kissable lips, on your sweet, tempting, fucking gorgeous lips.

Ever since that day Heeseung had to keep you closer to drift his nasty thoughts away.

It was controversial and maybe hypocritical. He should have done the opposite, to avoid you, to keep you as far as possible, but he simply couldn’t, because in that very moment he found himself addicted to you, addicted to the idea of tasting what he had come to crave as his main life goal. 

Having you near meant not dealing with the thought of other guys that had experienced what he longed the most, because with you, everything that filled Heeseung’s mind was the present; your presence, your cheeky smiles, your clingy hugs, your scent, you, as a whole.

It was so fucking tough and hurtful to hear about your little crushes, it fumed his chest with angry flames that spread rapidly, with no sign to have a firefighter strong enough to put the fire out.

You weren’t like him, or at least the part you allowed him to have access didn’t compare to even one percent of what he lived, but Heeseung strongly envied those who had the chance to be the reason behind your shy giggles and blushed cheeks.

Along the chat about flattering boys that stole your heart, you would also ask him why he didn’t date anyone, your curious gaze making him stutter in place. To internally scream and squirm to prevent the words from escaping his mouth – words that would form the sentence that, without a doubt, would change the trajectory of your relationship – was the only suitable option.

It’s your fault, idiot. It’s because none of them are you.

Heeseung always opted to laugh away and give an open answer; ”didn’t find the right one” was his favorite.

In fact, watching you grow up was harder than dealing with some of the questions you threw at him. One moment, you were just the little girl he loved to tease, someone he considered his best friend, and even like the little sister he never had

Heeseung would watch you laugh at his jokes, chase you around scaring you, and protect you from the world when necessary. But then, out of nowhere, you started to change.

You were suddenly a full-grown woman, carrying yourself in a way that left him speechless, not knowing how to react, with boobs and shit.

Ok, that was not exactly what made his life around you harder, nonetheless, it was inevitable the way you physically evolved began to hold a distinct place in Heeseung's mind, blurring his cohesive thoughts with a frightening ease.

Being a teenager while having a hot friend was difficult, no one ever taught him about it.

He felt nasty every time he dared to touch himself while thinking about your body; how your mildly exposed chest, when wearing tight shirts, hinted at what was beneath it. How the soft curves of your belly and hips drew his attention in a way that got his fingertips tingling in craving to hug it, to have it under his touch.

Whenever he achieved his climax, your cute name falling from his lips in a quiet whisper, the following regret flooded his chest within a wave of remorse that he couldn’t control at all. For good minutes he even considered saying sorry to you within a text, without giving a proper explanation, but he would always choose to keep that hidden truth away from your acknowledgment in every instance possible.

Besides his strong, flaming desire, Heeseung loved you with all he had.

You were his best friend, the one and only, the girl who knew his deepest secrets and welcomed them without judgment, that laughed at his stupid jokes and held him closer when he needed comfort.

You knew that when he was a child, he would wet the bed because he had nightmares about clowns. You knew he would eat ramen in the middle of the night, hiding it from his parents and blaming his older brother. You knew that, despite him bragging about his skills, he was terrible at candy crush – and you loved to tease him about it, because who the hell is bad at candy crush?

You didn’t seem to care about his flaws, like the aggressive way he treated things around him when the accumulated stress snapped – never at you, though. Or the fact that he would procrastinate as much as possible to clean his room, to do laundry or wash the dishes. Or that he would always eat while watching TV at maximum volume, and scream loudly while playing league of legends even when late at night.

Heeseung loved you, yet, it wasn’t enough to keep him safely quiet, relentlessly making his body ache for you. What started as the warmth of a deep connection slowly blossomed into something more – more intense, more real, and yet, somehow, delicate, like a fragile flower that could easily be shattered.

Heeseung would treat you like a queen because he thought you deserved to be one, and in the valleys of his heart, he wished for you to let his presence be part of your happiness, to share all the intimate moments, to become a part of your world in a way that was more than just a friend.

So that was the reason Heeseung started this whole thing of asking you about flirting. He was patient, however the urge to be yours and have you completely was swelling not-so-slowly, and he found an unexpected way to maybe drift you both through that invisible boundary line he wished to cross for so long.

There was no actual curiosity behind his question, it was pure and genuine longing and quiet hope for you to, perhaps, reciprocate those confused feelings that only led his heart to decide that he loved you.

And he loved you with his whole soul. 

“Come on,” Heeseung groaned after zoning out, now pushing his body to stand up before taking the seat next to you by scooching your legs away. 

You looked at him over your phone, frowning, your heart still pounding hard in your chest after going thoughtfully over the topic he just brought, pretending to spend your time on the screen when, actually, your head was filled with anxious and fearful thoughts.

Even so, you kept a straight face. 

“What?”

Heeseung sighed, shoulders dropping in something close to defeat and you took your time to move and sit on one of your legs, the other on the ground, casually hanging as you bounced it in order to expel your nervousness.

You didn’t notice your friend had tracked the motion for a quiet second, immediately understanding you had shifted your demeanor in a way he couldn't pinpoint yet, but he had a hunch about it. A suspicion that got his heartbeats notably increasing.

But you saw the exact moment he switched as he gathered the best of his decency to lock eyes with you, guiding the plan forward with excellency.

“Could you, please, for everything we have been through, for our beautiful friendship, and because you love me so, so much, answer my question?”

The drama in Heeseung’s voice was blatant and got you fighting back a grin that threatened to break free. His big-doe eyes flashing you an innocence you wittily figured out as coaxing, added to how he slowly batted his eyelashes, tilting his head only enough to look extra adorable, even curving his bottom lip to pull into a slight pout that had your attention lingering longer than you wanted. 

Once Heeseung learned that his charming eyes were one of your greatest weaknesses, he wasted no time to take advantage of it, oftenly catching you off guard by using his secret weapon to achieve certain goals, offering a soft, yet penetrating gaze that got your knees faltering in place.

He didn’t know with precision what made you so easy to pursue whenever he used that trick, nonetheless it was a big benefit either for simpler favors or big other things, like using your credit card to buy a collector figurine he didn’t have the money to buy during that time.

In that moment, however, Heeseung just wished for you not to catch the flicker of apprehension in his eyes, or the barely contained excitement that danced behind the facade of calmness and fake purity, because he didn’t aim to get something expensive or use your bathroom just to explore your good amount of skincare. 

His only objective was to cross that friendship line, to ruin it, and, if he was lucky enough, have you enjoying it as you both do so.

You pursed your eyelids and then cocked your head to the side, incredulous. “Seriously?” A chuckle echoed from your parted lips, softening your expression to endearing amusement since it pretty much worked all the time, even after you became fully aware of his tactic. “Using bambi-eyes and shit?”

Heeseung nodded with admirable speed, his entire behavior was almost infantile, resembling a shameless child about to get a pricey toy after playing the good kid for his parents, although he definitely did no good. He had a smirk on the very corner of his mouth, and his eyes glossed with complete feigned innocence. 

You damned yourself for being such a sucker for that boy, for allowing him to have that much power over your whole existence. 

And with that, you accepted your fate, your defiance. You had no idea of what was going to happen, let alone what the hell Heeseung wanted to know exactly. Yeah, girls flirting, but in which way? And why?

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, placing your phone away on the side table. Heeseung smiled brightly and shifted on his seat, his whole body now facing you, expectantly. You flashed a hesitant look, cheeks already flaming hot in a strange anticipation, not even bothering to chase for his gaze properly. “What do you wanna know?”

“Ok!” Heeseung nearly buzzed, his body jolting slightly as if electricity ran through it, revealing his excitement. “I’ll repeat the question so it won’t get weird, alright?” 

You allowed your throat to let out a small hum, nodding and eventually daring to glance up for a little, meeting the view of Heeseung's eyes beaming with something close to thrilling and mischief.

A cold, yet silent shiver ran through your torso and you had to control yourself not to tremble when he glazed his gaze with yours, in a magnetic manner that left you with nothing but the necessity to oblige.

Though you had heard them quite a lot from the past few minutes, the following words didn’t ease your heart to weigh less; the amount of times wasn’t enough to get used to how they sounded to you.

“How do I know a girl is flirting with me?”

The air felt extremely thick, rarefied even, as if you were up on the clouds, out from any equipment of protection as you body travelled near to get out from the atmosphere, heavy in your lungs. 

Heeseung struggled to read your reaction at first. Silence. Pure lack of sounds, only a blank and slightly confused expression facing him.

It wasn’t like he was fully expecting you to partake in his idea, even though he planned to account for every possible outcome variant to achieve at least a fraction of his goal.

And yet, he didn’t have a clear objective. Perhaps he simply wanted to plant a seed of hope, mixed with a ‘what if?’, hoping you would realize his feelings ran far deeper than just friendship. And, if luck was on his side, that you might reciprocate – or at least begin to entertain the possibility.

He wanted to ruin that friendship, because he believed you could – no, should – be lovers instead.

You gulped down the lump forming in your neck, praying for some god to help you to release your nerves as soon as possible, otherwise the possibility of having a heart attack wouldn’t just be a fantasy; it would be a reality.

Although every cell in your body seemed to resonate with joy to step onto that untraveled road of your friendship, you couldn’t help the urge to run, to escape, to get away from that topic and move on with your life. 

For sure you both had conversations about similar concepts, but nothing close to personal-sexual subjects. Nothing similar to Heeseung asking you directly how flirting happens. 

“I think…” You sighed, fidgeting with the rings in your fingers. “It depends on the person…”

That reply was more open than Heeseung wanted, however, he didn’t press. 

Your tone was thoughtful, your gaze drifting to a random spot on the wall behind Heeseung and then you frowned, trying to recall how your other girl friends behaved whenever their crushes were nearby to give him a proper answer.

Heeseung studied your beautiful features intently, momentarily losing sight of his original purpose; his focus hovered longer on your lips, the same ones that taunted his self-control every single day, the same ones he dreamed about having attached to his own, the same ones he nearly said ‘fuck it’ and kissed.

Instead, keeping the natural and respectful approach and also using your words, he rephrased his question, bold and curious to explore furthermore.

“How do you flirt, then?”

You blinked your blurred, distant eyes back to Heeseung, widening them once you noticed not a single hint of hesitation within his speech, not even a drop of wavering as he held eye contact. Your furrowed eyebrows showed deep uncertainty, and Heeseung added, struggling a bit to sound firm, gesticulating with his nervous hands.

“Like, could you demonstrate?”

It hadn’t clarified anything. In fact, it only made everything more doubtable and chaotic, eliciting a tilt of your head and an even deeper frown.

What on earth was he talking about? Out of nowhere? With no precise context whatsoever? You hadn’t bought into his questioning from the start, especially because of how charming that guy in front of you could easily be, no shame at all. And now this – completely sudden and utterly unsubtle.

Heeseung hadn’t laid the groundwork before dropping this delicate bombshell in your lap.

“How do I flirt?” You retorted, emphasizing and pointing to yourself, dumbfounded.

“Yeah, like,” he shrugged, as if it was just a normal question to make to your best friend. “How do you normally flirt with your crushes?” 

You shook your head, your hands freezing in the air, your spinning head barely catching the mocking tone when Heeseung said crushes.  “No, like, I got that part,” you clutched your fists, narrowing your eyes, lips suddenly drying. “But…”

The tension clung in the silence and you could feel your heart ringing in your ears, almost ripping out from your rib cage. Your hands slowly dropped to your lap, resting there as you tried to find a recompose path out of that situation.

“But…?” Heeseung prodded, leaning ever so slightly closer, his curiosity palpable as much as his boldness.

“Do you want me to flirt with you?” You blurted out, struggling to understand the whole picture, a blend of dread and excitement swirling in your stomach that you failed to contain.

Heeseung’s breath rigged, apprehension heavy in his voice, afterall, that simple interaction had the strength, the weight of changing things between you two for good – and he was painfully aware of it. 

“It’s not like, flirt flirt,” he attempted to clarify himself, though it was clear he was growing increasingly nervous with each passing second. “I just wanna see how girls do it. And you’re a girl, as far as I know.” 

Heeseung was trying to sound nonchalant, to ease the tense air with his remarkable teasing smirk, as casual as ever, but the atmosphere had noticeably shifted and you weren’t sure about your thought process during that moment. 

You grabbed one of the couch’s pillows behind you and threw over him, both of you sharing a laugh that seemed a bit too forced to be real.

A rush of heat crept up your neck as you silently fumbled for the right words when the playful banter settled, leaving room for the reality of Heeseung requesting you to purposely flirt with him.

You also grasped with caution the way Heeseung’s gaze lingered on your figure, how it followed the movement of your teeth pressing on your bottom lip, how he mirrored your decision to wet the area with the tip of your tongue as well, drawing your attention towards his own attractive lips, planting, in your mind, a dangerous seed that had you considering a deeper, promiscuous touch. 

The whole moment felt like walking a tightrope in high heels and you were terrified of what might happen if you stumbled. Your friendship was too precious for you to lose it over a stupid mistake. But, God, why did it feel so tempting to surrender to it?

Heeseung looked at you with adoration and eagerness, his body surprisingly relaxed, or at least you read it like that, as if the scenery was as simple as one plus one, as though he had everything under control.

Little did you know he was extremely, ridiculously, intensely anxious of what cost he would have to be paying in order to not destroy everything. If you paid close attention, you would probably see his gray shirt moving to the strong beats of his heart, loud enough to make him wonder if he was going to survive the outcome.

Another sigh trailed off your mouth as you scratched the back of your neck, clearly torn between the open choices in front of you. You could easily opt to ignore that and shove Heeseung away with some joke, or perhaps answer his question without thinking too intensely about it; you could fake it, hiding your real feelings in a dialogue made up from your head. 

Or you could let your friendship fade into the depths of your lustful desire of having Heeseung for yourself as a whole man, shameless flirting with him the way you always wanted to. 

And then, it clicked. He was offering you the perfect opportunity, the perfect project to subtly guide your decisions, all while pushing you towards the inevitable conclusion: you were about to ruin that friendship.

“Fuck it,” you muttered under your breath to yourself, and right after your sharp, determined gaze met his, leaving no chance for any possible retort. “I think we need to fantasize a scenario, then.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the shift in tone but too intrigued to ask questions. “Why?” he smirked, leaning in slightly. “Does the scenario where you flirt with your best friend in your living room not quite match the vibe?”

You forced an exaggerated look of disgust, but it was more for show than anything else. Neither of you was fooled by your performance. “No, it doesn’t.”

Heeseung chuckled, the tension slowly melting between you two. But even as the laughter filled the air, the uncertainty of what was coming next buzzed in the back of your mind, tempting you to run. Yet, your heart, much to a surprise, was urging you to stay, to follow this dangerous path wherever it might lead.

“Ok. So let's just picture we're in a club–” Heeseung started, straightening his posture. 

“I don't go to clubs.” You quickly deadpanned, eliciting a small “oh” from him.

“Right.” He agreed, frowning while trying to think of another situation. “So…”

You sighed in defeat, biting your lip briefly before saying. 

“I'm your classmate and I have a huge crush on you…?” You blurted out in one breath, yet hesitant, feeling your entire face heat up with embarrassment.

Especially because the said scenario had already played out before, making it easier to go along with – or worse, making it feel way too realistic.

“Nice! That's a good one.” Heeseung replied, his voice carrying a cheerful tone that had you scrunching your nose at his obliviousness, though it wasn’t entirely his fault that you were harboring bottled-up feelings for him. “So what would you do?”

You toyed with your bottom lip, grazing it lightly with your teeth as you tried to quell your nerves, all while struggling to ignore the way your friend sounded urgent, excited, and unmistakably eager. It was as if the entire script had been meticulously crafted long ago. As if he genuinely and wholeheartedly wanted you to flirt with him and walk past the friends line.

Dangerously close.

Before you voiced out, you cleared your throat not to waver on your words. “So, since we're classmates, we'd probably see each other everyday...”

Heeseung nodded, his bambi-eyes following your every movement as you shifted on your seat slightly. “Yeah.”

“As a girl with a crush on you, I'd try my best to stand out somehow and grab your attention first. And the most common way is…” You paused, casting a wary glance towards Heeseung, as though your next words carried a weight too immense to risk uttering lightly. “Eye contact?”

After some time, locking eyes with Heeseung became an increasingly challenging task because it meant having the opportunity to take in every detail of his impossibly attractive face.

The faint mole on his forehead and the ones near his nose were like tiny stars adorning a beautiful sky; that very nose that made you want to squeal from how adorable and rounded its tip was, all while provoking thoughts far too indecent to entertain.

His constant parted lips carried an unique charm, naturally inviting with their slightly reddish hue. At times, they took on a deeper tone, whether from the way Heeseung pressed them together whenever he entered the deep concentration state or nibbled at them to suppress a laugh after teasing you.

If you dared let your gaze wander further, you would notice the sharp point of his chin and, just below it, his prominent Adam’s apple – a mesmerizing detail you never imagined could have such an effect on you. The subtle movement of it bobbing up and down held your focus captive as though it had the power to dictate your every subsequent action.

A sigh slipped from your lips before you even realized the silence that had overtaken you, nor the way Heeseung, with his warm brown eyes, oozed affection and attentiveness your way.

“You’re not making eye contact…” Despite his observation, there wasn’t a trace of reprimand in his tone. It was soft, like a summer breeze brushing against your skin, gentle yet impactful enough to make your eyes widen as you leaned back in surprise.

You hadn’t even noticed how close you had unconsciously leaned towards him.

“Sorry,” you muttered after clearing your throat, redirecting your gaze to a random spot in Heeseung’s lap. Yet, contrary to what you expected, he shifted forward, closing the distance further, his knees nearly brushing against yours.

You looked up at him, confusion and apprehension flickering in your expression, ready to ask why he was coming so close, but he left no room for your question.

“Does the proximity of the girl interfere with flirting?”

His tone was low, soft even, each word drawn out with deliberate care. It carried a designed tenderness that nudged the borders of unexplored intimacy between the two of you, crafted perfectly to unbalance your soul.

Breathing became difficult as your heart raced, your body begging you to flee.

“N–normally, it’s not this close.” You cursed yourself for stuttering, but how could you not? How could you remain composed when Heeseung’s voice carried an intimacy you had never heard before? You had never seen this side of him, never had him like this.

Your gaze latched onto the way his long eyelashes fluttered with each deliberate blink, the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and the way his breath mingled with yours as he leaned impossibly closer.

“Yeah?” He murmured, his eyes dipping briefly to your lips in a silent, daring plea to let actions replace words. “Then why are you this close?”

You desperately tried to come up with a coherent response, perhaps to point out that it was he who had closed the gap. But your mind had abandoned rationality, leaving you to stumble over a weak, “B–Because you sat there, you idiot.”

You broke eye contact abruptly, reality crashing over you like a tidal wave. The sheer weight of the moment urged you to shift away, to reclaim your space and calm the chaos in your chest.

But Heeseung wasn’t ready to let you go.

With surprising swiftness, he shifted his body upright and gently pulled your arm so you could get onto his lap, his hands holding you firmly yet carefully in place.

“No,” he murmured, shaking his head softly as his voice dropped an octave, steady and soothing, eliciting an immediate gasp from you. “I want to know how girls flirt when they’re this close.”

You found yourself awkwardly sitting sideways on his lap, blinking in confusion, hesitation etched into every line of your expression. All you could manage was a whispered “What?” that answered or replied nothing at all, it simply materialized into words something that reflected your genuine state.

Your breath hitched as Heeseung leaned in even closer, the heat of his body melding with yours like he was a powerful devil coming from the gates of Hell. His gaze, now tinged with something more potent that torn in between desire, yearning and  an unspoken question, stirred something wild within you.

And for a fleeting moment he hesitated, the weight of the uncharted territory between friendship and something deeper making him pause and analyze his possibilities, the small shift on his gaze betraying him. But as his fingers tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering on your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin, his resolve solidified.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his words as soft as the pad of his thumb tracing the curve of your lips. He gently tugged at your bottom lip, leaving you breathless, lips parted, and trembling. “I’m sorry for the way I went about this,” he added, his voice feather-light, his warm breath caressing your skin. “But I couldn’t think of another way to put us in this exact moment.”

Your body froze, your mind unable to fully process what was happening. One moment, Heeseung was your charming best friend who eventually became your lifelong crush, the next you were on his lap, in a compromising position and with your faces inches apart.

You were suffocating in the heavy atmosphere, unsure of how to respond to the rush of emotions crashing over you; it left you in a state of emotional overload, in shock, utterly overwhelmed.

And then, with a softness that cracked the air between you, that broke your tensed nerves and fluttered your chest, you saw his eyes falter, waiting for a sign, a proper answer for his following question.

“Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering with words, you closed the remaining space yourself, your lips meeting in a collision of longing, and, so far, unspoken feelings that were buried deep in both of your souls, now lingering in the atmosphere as a quiet, yet delectable high voltage cursing over your body that you struggled deliciously to drift through. 

Torn in a conflict of decisions and a mutual desire, you had finally tasted what had been tempting you for so long. The softness, the warmth, the way Heeseung’s lips fit so perfectly against yours, tailored to match you as if they were meant to be.

Crossed everything you had imagined, now buzzing like a soft echo of reminiscences from when kissing Heeseung equated to a fever dream, to impossible, unattainable. 

Your body seemed to float in contact to soft clouds that gently embraced you; and then you realized that it was Heeseung holding you tenderly, kindly tracing the curves of your waist in a position that, now, was anything but comfortable.

Even so, the world outside felt like it didn't exist anymore. There was only the two of you, kissing with your breaths mingling intimately, with quiet sounds of contentment slipping out between that touch, one you had longed for far too long to waste the seconds that followed.

You deepened it, seeking Heeseung's tongue with yours almost desperately. The shock of the encounter of the two warm muscles was intoxicating, leaving you completely weak, and had you not been sitting, you would have easily fallen to the ground.

Kissing Heeseung at that moment felt like a relief. Relief in knowing that you were both on the same page when it came to the shared connection. Relief in realizing that his mouth desired you as much as yours craved his.

It was comforting to acknowledge how your body fit into his, in every possible way.

And it was then that you became aware of how your hands had automatically found their way into the soft strands of Heeseung's hair, pulling him just enough to draw the small grunts he released each time you did.

Your heart skipped a beat when Heeseung pulled away, tugging your lower lip with a soft bite. You opened your eyes slightly to search for an answer, fearing that regret had hit him like a powerful, striking bolt, but the truth was: he just needed to breathe in order to stay grounded and aware of what had just happened.

Shit. He was completely fucked, because now he knew how incredible it was to hear your breath hitch, to feel your fingers glide across his goosebumped skin with a tender, tempting touch, almost filthy, as your mouths melded together in an unprecedented rhythm.

He knew what it was like to have you intimately, and losing that feeling started to be his most intense fear.

Heeseung hadn't noticed, but there was a faint frown on his forehead that stirred conflicting emotions in you. He breathed heavily, almost panting while searching for air in his lungs. His eyes lowered, hypnotized by your parted lips, which willingly offered themselves to him.

It felt like a sweet indulgence, completely exposed, like someone on a strict diet, almost forbidden from indulging in the delicious taste of your mouth.

One simple kiss and he was completely undone, in the most delightful way possible. And beyond that, he began to crave you even harder. Dangerously harder.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, a mild frighten cursing through your veins, your voice barely above a whisper as your fingers continued to caress Heeseung's neck.

Your hooded eyes tried to pull an explanation for why he had stopped so suddenly.

He let out a low chuckle, a sound deep enough to make you shiver inside, sending a strange energy straight to between your thighs that made you unconsciously clench your legs, as your panties started to damp.

Heeseung’s hand, resting there, immediately noticed, making him smirk and lift his gaze. “You,” he sealed his lips with yours, “are unreal,” followed by another small kiss and, once again, a pause to admire you.

Heeseung looked at you with passion and tenderness, but mostly with desire. He wanted you.

No. 

He needed you.

You swallowed hard as you met his piercing gaze before he stood up, making you rise with him. Standing, he grabbed you by the waist and, still smiling, kissed the corner of your lips without any proper explanation. 

Your hands felt awkwardly frozen in mid-air, near Heeseung’s chest, as if you forgot how to function as a human being. To ease your visible tension and also taking some advantage of the moment, Heeseung lowered his mouth and planted a sweet trail of small, wet kisses down to your neck.

Your head immediately tilted to the side, almost as if he had typed the right password to gain free access to explore your body,  his large hands cupping your ass with just the right balance of respect and desire. While you allowed him this closeness, he was careful not to overstep, not when you both had only just begun to unravel that delicate part of your... friendship?

Gradually, you let yourself go, questioning less and following the flow deliberately; your hands now resting on Heeseung’s broad shoulders while he continued his project of driving you insane with his kisses.

“Hee…” You sighed softly when his teeth grazed a particular spot near your ear, too sensitive to keep you quiet, weak enough to make your knees nearly give way involuntarily.

“Don’t call me like that, baby…” Heeseung murmured softly against your skin, the vibration of his voice aligning with the tremor in your core, the endearment compelling you to clutch your eyes closed. Before you could even think of apologizing, he continued. “Or else I’ll get harder. And this fucking boner is already annoying me.”

For a brief, considerable second, you couldn’t comprehend his statement, your eyes opening in pure confusion as you stared at him, silently asking for an explanation. But Heeseung remained hidden in your neck, and you could even feel the ghost of his mischievous smile tracing your skin, rendering your mind incapable of thinking about anything other than his inebriating presence.

Then, he thrusted forward, just enough to press his hips against your body while gripping your waist to prevent you from stumbling back, and you felt it.

The layers of fabric between you two did nothing to mask the clarity of his intentions, not when he subtly, but unmistakably, demonstrated what he was referring to – a bulge sufficiently big to elicit a jolt of a quiver through your being, firm and clearly starting to grow painfully hard as Heeseung began to repeat that move.

So you had that effect on him? You turned him on? That was an unexpected delight. The warmth of it made you squirm in sudden discomfort, wishing you could feel it in a different way – one with fewer clothes.

Heeseung’s lascivious kisses on your neck switched to sloppy-messy ones, merging with the subtle grind of his hips against yours as he seeked for the smallest release to his thirst. The sensation made you let out a soft, almost teasing moan, provoking his restraint to the brim.

“Fuck…” he groaned, faltering by the way you were letting him grind shamelessly like a dog in heat, still fully clothed. “Tell me to stop, please..." His voice was ragged, like an aching, shaky plea that made his movements halt, since his focus turned inward in order to find some self-control.

But didn’t give such a command. Instead, you opened the door, not-so-silently inviting Heeseung deeper into the moment, into you. You couldn’t care less about your friendship, not when you craved to have your said best friend touching you intimately, to have his length twitching inside you while fucking your senses out of you as if his life depended on it.

You shook your head, a sly smile curving your lips when you whispered right in his ear. 

“Take me to my room, Hee.”

His desperation thickened as he surrendered to the overwhelming warmth between you two, a vocal groan cursing through his throat when he maneuvered easily your body by grabbing your thighs, inciting you to wrap your legs around his waist as he busied his mouth in yours, messily guiding both of you to your room. 

You found support on his shoulders and giggled in between the sloppy kiss, but you couldn’t quite enjoy the feeling of his strong grip surrounding your body with precision for too long, as your back quickly reached the soft mattress of your bed.

Heeseung's big figure towered over you, scooching up as a way to help you both find a comfortable position until your head was touching one of your pillows, lips still attached to each other in pure hunger.

You wondered if putting your feelings into words would add to the moment, but nothing truly needed to be said. The unspoken tension you shared with Heeseung had carried your relationship this far – this wasn’t the time to disrupt it with confessions of the obvious. Not when you had him kissing you so intensely, so voraciously, as though he were utterly parched and you were his only source of relief.

It felt exhilarating to have Heeseung this needy, his body reacting to every subtle motion of yours. You rolled your hips gently against his, seeking mutual friction in a desperate bid for release.

Your fingers wandered through his disheveled hair, occasionally trailing down his subtly muscular arms – the very arms that had always been your weakness.

Heeseung wasn’t bulky or overly built, but he had a lean, breathtaking frame, with just the right amount of definition in certain places. Supporting his weight on the bed, you could feel the tension in his arms under your touch, muscles tightening even more each time your hands dared to drift lower, grazing his back, your nails lightly scratching.

The slight scrape drew delicious sighs from him, each one lost in the fervor of your kiss.

Heeseung’s free hand explored wherever it could reach, teasingly brushing beneath the hem of your shirt, as though waiting for your silent permission to go further. And you took your cue right away.

“Hee…” you broke the intense, breath-stealing kiss to murmur his name, your voice soft, your eyes barely open as the world around you seemed heavier, hotter.

He reacted instantly to the familiar nickname, though now it carried a filthy weight that would linger with him forever. His hips pressed against yours in a motion that sent a shockwave through your core, the direct contact of his pelvis with yours setting you alight.

Lifting his gaze to meet yours, he found pure, unrestrained lust staring back at him. The words that followed made him falter, disbelief flashing across his features at the reality of what he had craved for so long finally coming true.

“I want you,” you whispered, eyes tenderly, yet oozing with desire looking at his brown orbs.

Heeseung’s jaw tightened as he swallowed hard, his expression shifting to something taut, focused. He studied you with care, searching for hesitation, for any trace of doubt in your plea. But he found none, only mutual desire, raw and unfiltered.

A breath of laughter escaped him, quiet and disbelieving, as his lips, swollen and glistening with your shared kisses, curved into a cheeky, yet content and relieved, smile.

“Don’t laugh…” You whined, squirming beneath him in a feeble attempt to escape his teasing gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he said with his voice low, gravelly, making you shiver. “It’s just… This feels like a dream.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks and you failed to hold back a smile. “So, you’ve dreamed about me?”

“Every single day, Y/N,” Heeseung admitted, his eyes dropping to your lips once again, heavy with yearning, with need. 

He looked intoxicated, or maybe hypnotized. Whatever it was, he felt as though his body had transcended reality itself. Because even in his dreams, he never imagined having you like this – so real, so wholly his.

“Tell me that again…” A delicate plea. “Please,” a desperate beg.

“What?” You whispered back in confusion, your eyelids feeling heavy with the proximity of the moment, making it difficult to keep admiring the tempting view of Heeseung slowly falling apart.

“That you want me.”

Heeseung’s perfume had taken over you, invading your senses completely like a flood, and you were the one feeling drunk right now, as a deep goosebump ran through your spine hearing – understanding – his request.

“I want you,” you repeated, your voice trembling with the weight of confessing something so intrinsic. 

Heeseung's breath mingled with yours, shaky, weak; the warmth of it ghosting over your lips as he hovered above you was making you dizzy. His gaze burned into yours, holding a quarter of darkness and contrastingly tenderness that matched his impossibly gentle touch on your waist. 

He moved deliberately, savoring the anticipation building up quite fast, stirring an ache that got your stomach bubbling with expectation and a weird anxiety. You tightened your grip on his hair when the tip of his cute nose brushed against yours and his reddened lips grazed over your mouth.

“Again, please,” he murmured in a husky whisper; due to the closeness, the movement tickled the skin of your lips and spurred you to lick the area, your tongue caressing both your swollen lips.

You sighed, closing your eyes.

You could feel your core pulsing in need, your skin prickling due to the insufferable tension that grew stronger, ticker, teetering the unbearable within each second, making you wonder how longer you would be able to hold yourself back. 

The magnetic tension surrounding you two made every breath feel like a desperate beg, igniting a hunger within you so fierce it consumed you.

Felt like the last thing you would ever crave in your life was right before you. But apparently, Heeseung longed to hear you speak a little more before taking any action.

“I want you, Hee,” you said again, quieter this time, though your tone was no less intense – it was even more raw.

Heeseung’s lashes fluttered shut for a moment, absorbing the confession like it was his lifeline. He repeated the motion of rubbing his nose on yours, now tilting his head to the side and groaning. That couldn't be real. You couldn’t be real.

He needed one more. Just. One. More.

“One more, please…” he pleaded, the words slipping out between deep, controlled breaths that did nothing to mask the tremor of desperation in his tone.

“I need you, Heeseung.”

His forehead pressed lightly against yours as he exhaled a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging with the weight of restraint. The charged air between you seemed to thicken, wrapping you both in an intoxicating haze.

Despite the tenderness of the moment, the desire simmering beneath the surface was undeniable – present in the way his hands traced delicate patterns along your waist, in the way his chest rose and fell with the rhythm of yours, in the way his lips hovered, so close yet so agonizingly distant.

“I need you right now, Hee. Please.”

And with your last wish, Heeseung obeyed your command.

Followed by a passionate kiss, one he tried to take his time to appreciate your taste, he also held the waistband of your shorts and, after your silent nod amidst the clash of your mouths when he hesitated, he began to move it down to your thighs, revealing the softness of your bare skin to his curious hands. 

Thick fingers brushed against your sensitive bundle of nerves, the thin barrier of your panties doing little to dull the sensation. The whimper that followed barely met the real world, swallowed whole by Heeseung’s eager mouth as he drank in your expressive, delicate reactions, savoring every trembling note like a melody meant only for him.

“So wet.” Heeseung stated the obvious after feeling your arousal sticking across the fabric, playfully tapping just to tease and feel its viscosity.

If the room was quiet enough, he would be able to hear the wet sound of his pats. 

He dived into your neck since he couldn’t keep up with the pace of the shared kiss, not when you were letting out such beautiful noises as he pressed his fingers on your entrance over your clothing piece, taunting that release that seemed far to reach.

“Hee–” You whined in frustration, swinging your hips towards Heeseung’s fleeting touches as well as tightening your grasp on his locks.

“I know, I know,” he chuckled, deep and low. You pouted when he flashed you a charming smirk, matching perfectly with his amused, yet playful eyes. “Let me take care of you, mhm?”

And with that, Heeseung made quick work of removing the rest of your clothing, still caught around your thighs, panties included. He bit his lip, a soft sigh escaping alongside a subtle furrow of his brow in delight as he took in the full view of your pussy, glistening with your wetness – all caused by him. 

You wanted to close your legs and hide, but he held you open and exposed to his sight. Heeseung could feel his stomach fluttering, tightening with sparkling expectation. 

Beneath the teasing slowness of his movements, there was a Heeseung teetering dangerously close to the edge of insanity, warring to find some self-control. And it was entirely your fault.

The effect you had on Heeseung was nothing short of surreal. Even the simple act of your consent, given with every piece of fabric he slid away from your body, only served to fuel the fire within his desire, leaving his body, mind, soul, everything he had drunk on the sheer anticipation of what was to come.

“Fucking beautiful, baby.”

The compliment was common – Heeseung always praised your good looks. But the endearment slipped past his lips with extra ease, as if calling you baby – his baby – was as natural as a heartbeat, as expected as blossoming flowers during spring. 

By the way your cheeks warmed, you could tell your entire face was betraying your shyness, especially when Heeseung offered you a genuine, content smile, as if he were expressly happy that you had allowed him to see you in this form.

He still hadn’t unclasped your bra and had only removed his own shirt, dragging out painfully the moment of leaving you both naked.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t help the small flicker of worry, a strong fear of disappointing Heeseung.

You had only had sex once in your life, with an ex-boyfriend you had trusted enough to take that step, believing that being in a relationship would make it less hurtful and more enjoyable. You were wrong.

Not only had you suffered physically from his lack of care, but you hadn’t even come close to reaching your own orgasm.

Heeseung knew the rough outline of that story. He was aware that you weren’t a virgin anymore but hadn’t asked for too many details. Partly because he hated the thought of someone else being the one to take that from you.

A pang of jealousy lingered, even though, at the time – just a few months ago – he hadn’t seriously considered taking such a step with you.

It was only after your breakup, and the frustration that radiated off you, that Heeseung decided to act. He couldn’t stand the idea of you putting yourself down, settling for men who gave you less than the bare minimum, when he was right there, longing to give you the world.

“Let me see you too, Hee.”

Your soft request came accompanied by a gentle caress over Heeseung’s slightly flustered cheeks, his lovingly expression hiding the inner battle he was fighting to keep himself composed.

He gave a small nod, standing up from the bed to remove the last of his clothes, granting you the sinful sight of his body, a thin sheen of sweat accentuating the bronzed tone of his skin. Your gaze dropped slowly towards his erection, standing stiff, flushed, with the tip in a darker shade, glistening with leaking precum. 

“Hot,” you murmured quietly, the word barely leaving your lips. But in the stillness of the room, Heeseung heard it.

A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, shy and uncharacteristic – a glimpse of the awkward, reserved side of your friend that you loved teasing, the side that wasn’t used to receiving compliments and always got adorably flustered when they came.

You giggled, beckoning him with a curl of your finger. “Come here, hmm?”

And who was Heeseung to deny you?

In an instant, he reclaimed his place over your body, his mouth finding its way to the smoothness of your chest, lips grazing and tasting your skin. His hands slid behind your back, intent on finally removing the last piece of fabric that kept you hidden from him, and it took less than seconds for you to whimper, slamming your eyes shut as you felt Heeseung gently nip at your nipple.

“Hurry up,” you muttered within a squirm. “Please, Hee. I need you inside me."

You were quick and precise in expressing your desire, your contorted expression of pleasure blended with frustration making it clear that you didn’t want any more delays, especially since he had already dragged things out too much, and you were about to crawl the walls around you to feel him properly.

“Condom?” He murmured against your skin, smiling slightly at your desperation, though he was just as bad, if not worse.

“I don’t have it,” you moaned as he bit your stomach while lowering his hot, wet kisses. Your hands tried to find support in anything – the sheets, his hair, his shoulders – in order to ground yourself, while Heeseung seemed too calm for his own good. “But we don’t need it.”

Immediately, Heeseung froze. He stopped and lifted his gaze, scanning your face for any trace of teasing or hesitation in your words, half-expecting you to be joking or playing around, but instead, all he found was the raw, unfiltered desire of your soul exposed before him.

“I trust you,” you whispered in between your heavy breaths, a soft smile tugging at your lips that countered any remnant doubt resting inside Heeseung. You gently caressed his cheek, pulling him back to you, your eyes locking in a quiet promise that only you two knew the meaning. “I trust you, Hee.”

That was the tipping point. You, who had been wondering how Heeseung maintained such control, watched as his tender nearly relaxed gaze vanished entirely, swallowed by a wave of desire, as if pure lust had consumed his state completely.

“Don’t say that, love,” a murmur. His voice trembled, just as his arms struggled to hold himself still. He then kissed you intensely, shutting down any possibility of you retorting the pet name, barely giving you time to recognize how your heart skipped a beat.

Heeseung’s hips shifted in the precise motion to bring you closer, to claim you. You shivered.

“I’m going insane, you have no fucking idea.”

Though the choice of words said behind gritted teeth, it was clear Heeseung gravitated towards vulnerability rather than anything harsh; he sounded unsteady, but not in a worrying way. It seemed as if he had surrendered completely to your existence, almost like a personal devotion.

His soft, now familiar lips found home on yours again, pulling you into a singular kiss filled with unspoken emotions, while one of Heeseung's hands gently caressed your waist to keep you still, beginning to position his hardness against your aching hole.

Feeling the distinct pressure in that area generated an unconscious and uncontrollable tension in you, your shoulders stiffening, your hands gripping Heeseung's arms immediately and your mouth stopping properly working as the fear of the pain that would follow from that simple action started to creep up your spine.

“What's wrong, love?” Heeseung asked kindly, pausing his movements as he noticed the sudden rigidity in your body; he had only inserted the tip, and you had become completely tense.

“N–Nothing…” You shook your head, your eyes clenched closed as you tried to regulate your heartbeat and breaths. So far, there was no burning sensation where Heeseung had placed himself, but still, you were afraid.

By any means he was big, you had gotten a beautiful view of him just a few minutes ago, and although your mouth watered to have him fully inside you, there was a lingering feeling that held your soothness back.

“Baby…” Heeseung murmured softly, his voice carrying a subtle insistence as he sensed the clear discomfort and the blatant lie in your response, his concerned eyes searching for any hint of truth in your contorted expression.

“I’m sorry.” You pouted, refusing to open your eyes, the weight of vulnerability overwhelming you.

“For what?” He asked, a small trace of confusion in his voice, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he offered you the choice to end it without guilt or hesitation. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” You blurted, snapping your eyes open, your pupils wide and searching his face. Your head shook vehemently, your hands gripping his shoulders in a reflexive act of urgency as well as your legs, wrapping around his waist to keep him in place.

“Then what is it, baby?”

Heeseung adjusted his body slightly, his movements deliberate and tender, ensuring he wouldn’t press into you too forcefully. He kept his tip brushing against your folds, the sensation teasingly close but never quite crossing the threshold. He silently made the decision not to push you further unless you signaled otherwise.

“It’s just…” You exhaled shakily, your eyes downcast, unable to meet his unwavering gaze. “I’ve never– I mean, I did have sex once, but it was so painful, and it hurt so much, and I didn’t even… Y’know…”

You spoke in a flurry, your words tumbling out in a nervous rush, and through it, Heeseung caught the part of the story you had kept hidden and he never dared to ask about. His heart clenched, it became clear that this was a truth that now needed care.

“He wasn’t even that big, but it hurt because he didn’t care about me, and–”

“My love.” Heeseung interrupted, his voice breaking through with a soft, comforting tone. You stopped speaking instantly, blinking up at him with those wide, innocent eyes that held so much unspoken trust. He smiled warmly, a reassuring tenderness in his touch. “I’d never hurt you,” he whispered, his voice firm with sincerity. “And I’d never, ever force you to do anything you don’t want.”

“I want you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, needy, desperate even. “I’m just… afraid.”

“We can take it slow, love,” he said, his words a mutual understanding between you both, the promise of patience in his voice.

He slowly began to press his tip into you again, the sensation soft but insistent, giving you time to adjust. You swallowed thickly, your breath hitching as you tried to calm the anxiety racing through you.

There were sounds threatening to escape your throat that you couldn't properly control, so you just let them out.

“Relax, alright? It’s me. I’m your best friend. I’m not going to hurt you. We can stop whenever you want.”

Through reassuring phrases and tender kisses planted over your face – and mainly on your parted lips –, Heeseung deliberately entered you whole, until his dick was being hugged by your clenching walls and his pelvis fully met your body.

You took a deep breath several times. The sensation was uncomfortable, strange; there was an intruder inside you, and you couldn't quite enjoy the so-called pleasure during sex due to it, but as the long seconds passed and your body relaxed, you began to adjust to the weight of Heeseung's length inside you.

And finally you noticed that Heeseung himself had buried his face at the crook of your neck, breathing as heavy as you, completely frozen in place.

“Hee?” You called and gave a soft stroke to his hair. 

“Give me a minute,” the words came rapidly and slurred, like an incomprehensible mumble.

You quirked an eyebrow, trying to find his face to read whatever was happening.

“Are you okay?”

Heeseung groaned. “Yes. It’s just…” He gulped, clutching his eyes closed and grunting a curse, his hands tightening their grip on your waist. “Fuck—You feel amazing, baby.” His breath hitched as his body tensed, muscles flexing under the strain of trying to hold back. “I need a minute.”

“Alright…” 

Although you couldn’t understand why, you just… Waited. But he made sure to add.

“So fucking tight–” Something about how desperate and lost he sounded close to your ear had your walls clenching even more. “I can’t– I don’t wanna cum right now.”

There was no plausible explanation for the flutter in your chest, let alone the heat that spread across every inch of your skin, hitting your core in a way that was almost overwhelming after hearing his confession.

Knowing that Heeseung was physically unable to move, simply because his release was so close – practically edging himself – made you feel more thrilled than you would ever admit out loud.

As the best of friends – after all, you hadn’t defined your relationship yet –, you chose the path of teasing, letting out a light giggle and giving a playful tap on his back as you said, “Take your time, big boy. I'm not going anywhere.”

Heeseung chuckled, though the sound was tinged with frustration and craving, the weight of his restraint still palpable.

Throughout the heated makeout moment, he was already far too affected – though he wouldn’t admit it now, having your lips against his had been more than enough to leave him ridiculously hard. The shameless grinding had teased his sensitivity with just the right intensity, pushing him dangerously close to the edge.

Now, finally experiencing the tightness of your pussy enveloping around his cock, it was a unique kind of downfall that made his control slip past his fingers, his entire body shivering as trying to contain himself. 

“I wanna– I wanna last longer for you,” a breathy, shaky moan escaped when he tried to move, pulling back just a little to shove back again. “Fuck baby…”

Heeseung was on the verge of insanity.

He couldn’t find the right explanation to how good your wet, warm interior welcomed him in an addictive sensation of fulfillment, as if he had found the exact place he needed and wanted to be.

However, as he began to set a slow, tantalizing rhythm, not only to himself but for you not to feel any pain, your soft, breathy noises became the driving force behind his every move.

Each sound you made was like music to his ears, embedding itself deeply in his mind and shaping his every decision; they spurred him on, a motivator to remain as steady and deliberate as possible, even as his own restraint threatened to crumble.

Heeseung was vividly avoiding to fall into the depths of his true needs of egoisticaly fucking you hard and fast.

And then, you begged.

“Can you go faster? Please?”

A guttural groan was Heeseung’s immediate response, primal and unrestrained, as if your request alone had sent him reeling like a starving hunter finally closing in on its prey.

He paused for a beat, letting the weight of your words settle between the thick air and then shifted the pace, growing more intense, aiming for a sharper, purposeful motion.

Heeseung straightened slightly, lifting his torso enough to pull his face from the haven of your neck and give himself a clear view of your beautiful pleasured face. His gaze met yours briefly before going downward, to the mesmerizing connection of your bodies moving together – your hips chasing his pounds like your life depended on it. 

Your hazed sight saw his brows furrowing as well as his pursed lips that reflected his immense concentration. Sweat clung to his skin, a few damp strands of hair got stuck to his forehead while the rest, equally damp, fell forward and lightly brushed your face with every thrust.

That sight was a sinful privilege; watching him completely undone yet intensely focused was enough to leave you breathless. And still, your slightly high-pitched whimpers harmonized with each precise thrust.

You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, and instinctively, you mirrored that grip in your hands, clutching Heeseung’s hair as you pulled him into a messy kiss. Tongues moved sloppily, chasing each other and swallowing his deep groans along with your incoherent pleas for him not to stop.

A mutual desire began to creep, one that neither of you wanted to escape, a longing as deep as two bodies yearning, painfully, to occupy the same space and merge together. It became evident in the way you clung to him, your arms wrapping around Heeseung's warm, sweaty body, pressing him down, not even caring about the slight pain in your sensitive boobs as you did so.

“I think I’m close,” you managed to announce amidst the intoxicating chaos of your senses.

There was a thick veil of lust enveloping you both, leaving you utterly dazed; the sensation was surreal, overwhelmingly good, and for the first time you truly understood what people meant when they talked about sex.

Heeseung had heard your voice distant and muffled, since his mind had drifted away, lost in the overwhelming mix of pleasure and the aching pain of edging his orgasm; his leaking precum started to blend with your sticky arousal as both of you reached over the edge.

Your eyes rolled when Heeseung started to pound into a specific spot in you, stirring your mouth to fall open with soft cries slipping past your throat, while your nails dug into the flesh of his back, scratching strong enough to leave marks. 

Heeseung barely registered it at first, though he would wear those marks proudly once he did. Still, it stung, a faint burn that somehow awakened his primal need to let go. Added to it, your pussy started to pulse and clench tightly against his painfully sensitive shaft. And so, he begged.

“Please, cum for me,” a small pause to breathe. “Please, I need you to– Please…” 

Your eyes fluttered shut and you trembled. Listening to Heeseung’s broken voice asking you for something you couldn’t quite control bordered the inexplicable and finally it snapped. 

You arched your back and went silent immediately, as if the entire world around you disappeared. You could hear and feel the weight of your heartbeats echoing through you, feel the vibrations of your body, hear the faint, distant noises of Heeseung’s moans and curses and the sound of your bodies colliding.

The intensity of your climax had you gasping for air right after you managed to regain a small portion of your consciousness, your legs squirming as the pleasure took over. 

Meanwhile, Heeseung barely pulled out in time, ensuring he had guided you through your high enough to leave you satisfied.

He would blame himself later for not giving you his absolute best. For now, his focus was on relieving the unbearable, painful tightness in his balls and dick. And so he did, releasing a guttural groan that seemed to resonate from the depths of his soul before spilling out into a delicious sound.

The wave that coursed through his body was devastatingly intense, leaving him trembling and unsteady to the point where his arms briefly faltered in holding him up.

You parted your tired eyes just enough to watch as he came all over your stomach – so much of it that it trickled down onto the sheets beneath you, leaving you completely sticky.

Both of you fought for air, desperately panting as your bodies surrendered, sinking into an overwhelming state of relaxation. A genuine urge to drift into sleep washed over you, your arms falling limply at your sides as your heavy-lidded eyes fought a losing battle to stay open.

You gave up to the exhaustion, watching through half-closed eyes as Heeseung collapsed into the space beside you. 

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured softly, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek.

You tried to blink away your fatigue, but only managed to respond in a low, drowsy whisper, “For what?”

“I lost control. I didn’t do as well as I wanted to. I ruined your sheets. And… you’re all sticky. I know you hate being sticky.”

A quiet giggle escaped your lips at his string of concerns, your body vibrating with a warm, joyous satisfaction at the depth of the bond you shared. It was the expected contrast: Heeseung, overthinking every detail of his performance, and you, utterly smitten, finding his anxieties endearing.

“I loved it, Hee.”

Your praise was genuine, carrying a soft hint of reassurance to ease his insecurity. There wasn’t a single part of you that could ever truly mind the things he listed – not even his so-called mistakes.

“You were gentle and loving,” you continued, brushing a hand against the arm that sweetly wrapped around you, avoiding the result of the earlier moment. 

Heeseung’s face pressed against yours with his breath tickling your skin – an intimacy you could easily grow used to, but for now, had your heart fluttering. 

“And even when you ‘lost control,’ you stayed here. With me.”

Heeseung hummed with a hint of contentment, a faint smile creeping through his tensed barriers after your comforting words. He shifted like a puppy snuggling into a cozy corner, a gesture he did with you a few times before, but never when you were both so intimately bare in that way.

You both remained silent for a while, absorbing the reality of what had just unfolded.

No openly affectionate words were exchanged. Instead, actions took the lead, allowing you to share an intimate, deeply personal moment guided by mutual pleasure. There was no need for a romantic confession – it felt unnecessary.

Every small gesture during the earlier moment – from Heeseung's steady calmness as he talked you through it, easing your anxiety, to the way you reassured him after the end about how well he did – spoke volumes. It was more than enough to prove that the love between you burned far beyond the bounds of friendship.

Heeseung was lost in thought, exhilarated by having been able to share such a profound connection with you. The mutual desire for each other was undeniable, and no words could ever compare to the overwhelming sensation of, now, not simply having the facility to say he loved you – as he had so often as a friend – but to show it.

To demonstrate to you how every fiber of his being, his soul, his existence, was drawn to you, yearning for you, consumed by you.

“Hm, this sticky thing on my stomach is really bothering me,” you broke the silence as the haze cleared and the awareness of your body set in. You pushed his arm aside, preparing to leave the bed and clean yourself up.

“Shit,” Heeseung’s eyes widened, and he got on his feet before you could.

As he had  mentioned earlier, you hated feeling sticky. He realized might had fucked it up by neglecting to help you clean up, by not providing the aftercare you deserved.

Yet, he couldn’t blame himself too harshly; everything about the moment had left him utterly dizzy in the best way possible. It felt like he had lived out a dream once thought unattainable, and the surrealness of it all still lingered.

Your soft, familiar voice snapped him back to reality, reminding him there were consequences to address, and he wanted nothing more than to face each one with you, in every detail, if it meant staying by your side.

“Let me help, okay?” He eagerly offered, reaching out to steady you as you sat up. He barely suppressed a laugh at the grimace that overtook your face as the sticky fluid slid from your stomach to your thighs.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you teased as you walked to the bathroom together. “You’re hot, and all of this was ridiculously amazing, but I really don’t like all this cum–”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence. Heeseung interrupted, gently but insistently pushing you to sit on the toilet. 

“Pee,” he instructed firmly, yet calm.

You blinked up at him in confusion, one eyebrow raised.

“It helps prevent infections,” he clarified.

“I know,” you rolled your eyes, staring at him for a moment. He stared back. The scene was unexpectedly comical – both of you naked, exchanging deadpan looks.

“Get out of the bathroom, silly.”

“I don’t think that’s really neces–”

“I can’t pee with you here,” you cut him off.

He narrowed his eyes at you but eventually let out a quiet, “Fine, fine,” leaving the bathroom with an exaggerated huff, though he didn’t bother closing the door.

You giggled at his childish behavior, marveling at the man who had once been your friend. Friend.

It wasn’t the right word anymore. Something more significant had blossomed between you, unspoken yet undeniably present.

Once you finished, Heeseung returned to the bathroom and began to bathe you. It was endearing to feel his gentle, careful touch as he cleaned your back, giving you the space to take care of yourself properly.

You helped him wash his hair in return, complaining when he tried to use your expensive shampoo. But you relented when he deployed his infallible tactics: wide, pleading eyes and an exaggerated pout, softly begging, “Please,” in a tone so whiny it was impossible not to laugh.

Your heart ached with love for this man. The one who had once been your friend and, now, the one with whom you had crossed the line.

When you returned to the bedroom, Heeseung had already changed the sheets, leaving the bed fresh and inviting, ready to welcome you back into its warmth.

“Lie down here with me?” You murmured softly.

The sun was already below the horizon, and the air was pleasantly cool. A gentle breeze slipped through the slight gap in the window, rustling the curtains and brushing against your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps

The warmth of your recent shower made you extra sensitive to the chill, and noticing this, Heeseung moved to close the window before settling into the empty space beside you.

It didn’t take long for you to naturally nestle into one another, as though this kind of closeness was second nature. And it was.

You had always been comfortable with affectionate touches – warm hugs and innocent caresses were a constant part of your daily routine, alongside the playful teasing that defined your relationship. But now, something new lingered in the air: a tension, subtle and undeniable, that neither of you seemed brave enough to confront.

It felt as though acknowledging the shift, putting words to the new dynamic between you, might unravel it entirely – like opening Pandora’s box and being swallowed by its consequences. Neither of you knew what “dating” the other would look like, nor could you say for certain that this was even the stage you had reached. The unspoken remained deafeningly loud.

Your heart raced as you melted into the comforting warmth of Heeseung’s embrace. The familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach now mingled with a bittersweet sense of uncertainty about what lay ahead.

Despite that, you were usually the one to take control in slightly uncomfortable situations – like when Heeseung started bringing certain acquaintances into the apartment you shared, one of whom had wandered into your room uninvited, sparking a minor conflict that Heeseung quickly accepted responsibility for.

“If you promise to stop ignoring the elephant in the room, I promise to do the same,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

Heeseung had been waiting for you to speak first. You always did. And that thought made a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. Even after everything, you were still... you.

Always you.

He was afraid, of course, that things might change drastically. There was a gnawing fear that the friendship you shared could crumble in the worst possible way. But in moments like this, when you unconsciously reminded him that no matter what, it was still the two of you, he felt a sense of calm.

“Go on a date with me tomorrow,” he murmured suddenly.

You blinked, caught off guard by his directness. His voice was quiet, a little tentative, but firm enough to make you pause. Even with a slight tremor of apprehension at the thought of stepping into the unknown with him, you nodded.

“Only if it’s not a movie date,” you replied with a light tone.

Heeseung laughed, his chest rising and falling as the sound escaped him, and the sensation of your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his abdomen made him shiver.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured you.

You tilted your head to meet his gaze. The way he looked at you, dripping with unfiltered affection was almost overwhelming in the best way. And you knew, just as he did, that the feelings you held for him were reciprocated in full.

You had crossed the line, yes. But now, together, you were venturing into new territory, ready to claim and navigate this uncharted space in your relationship. And somehow, it didn’t feel so terrifying when you remembered that, no matter what, it was still the two of you against the world.

[venusdews]

SERVE!

caleb [夏以昼] + female reader + zayne [黎深]

synopsis. who were the cute boys watching your tennis match today? you planned to find out.

genre & contents. 18+! MDNI! tennis player!zayne, tennis player!caleb, tennis player!reader, smut, porn with plot, oral (giving), cumshot, unprotected p in v, nipple play, soft dom!caleb, soft sub!zayne, nasty 3some, pull out, slapping, fingering, slight dirty talk, a lil mxm if you squint, what else to say… wc; 4.5k+

author's note. this came from me listening to the challengers soundtrack… i have no excuse i just wanted to write a smutty zayne and caleb fic (even though this just kept getting longer the more i revised) … enjoy <3

“Holy shit.”

The two men had been sitting on the bleachers for almost two hours, completely enthralled by the girl who was on the tennis court. They really had only intended to pass by after training, maybe stay for a few plays.

It was hard to ignore the whispers throughout Linkon Tennis Club, of a girl who was only on a path to surpass everyone here. Of course, they had been curious to see who she was, maybe skeptical of all the talk surrounding her. But nothing compared to watching her up close.

She was unrelenting, hard-hitting and implacable.

Even as her opponent continued to fall far behind in points, she showed no signs of backing down. It was only until the last set that she let their serve fall on her side, not even attempting to hit the ball with her racket. As if she wanted to taunt him. 

It’s only then that they take note of the man stomping off the court, someone who up until now, had been considered undefeated in their club.

Caleb swears he sees a smirk appear on her face as she walks off the court.

“That was…” Zayne starts, but it seems he’s unable to find the words to describe what he’s feeling right now.

“Fucking hot.” Caleb finishes, eyes still locked onto the girl as she uses a towel to wipe her glistening skin.

Zayne clears his throat, standing up suddenly as if snapping out of a trance. Up until then, he had been unaware of the setting sun. “We need to go.” 

Caleb doesn’t notice he’s walking down the bleachers until the girl is out of sight. He grabs his bag, almost stumbling down the steps as he catches up to Zayne.

He whistles lowly.

“You ever see anyone play like that?” Caleb brings his hand under his chin, unable to shake the image of her on the court. Or, unable to shake the image of her completely. He wanted to know more about her. No, needed.

“No.” It was true. Zayne found himself adjusting his shirt collar nervously. Suddenly the heat of the sun was heavy on his skin. He wouldn’t admit that watching her play like that was enough to have an effect on him.

“You think she’s coming to the party tonight?” Caleb ponders out loud, more to himself. He finds himself hoping to catch sight of her again as they exit the court and enter the parking lot, but she’s nowhere to be seen.

“Why does it matter?” Zayne responds, tossing his bag onto the top of his car's hood, searching for his keys.

Caleb leans onto the hood, hands coming up under his chin as he eyes Zayne. “Maybe because that was one of the best matches I’ve ever seen, and it wasn’t even a serious one. You’re not just a little curious to see what she’s like?”

Zayne fishes his keys out, pointing his gaze at Caleb’s puppy eyes. “Oh, so it has nothing to do with the fact that you find her attractive?”

“Do you not?” Caleb takes note of the way Zayne avoids his question.

Zayne looks away, unlocking his car door and throwing his bag to the backseat.

“At least I'm not afraid to admit when I like a woman…” Caleb mumbles, hoping it's low enough that Zayne doesn't hear.

He does.

And he locks the car just as Caleb tries to open the passenger door.

He bangs his hand against the window, and Zayne can’t deny he finds his pouting a bit amusing. 

“Zayne!”

He plasters his face against the window. “Open the door?” 

Zayne pretends to not hear him, turning the car’s ignition on.

“Please?”

The doors unlock, a shit eating grin spreading onto Caleb’s face.

“Someone can’t get enough of you.”

Your friend Tara is giggling as she hands you a towel. You take it, wiping your face but not before rolling your eyes.

You knew exactly who she was talking about. It wasn’t unusual for you to gain a bit of an audience when you played, even if it was just a match for fun like this one. But those two had showed up early and stayed throughout the whole thing.

Watching you. And only you.

It was hard to ignore the way their eyes watched your every move.

“They’re not exactly trying to hide it,” you quip, a bit harsh. But maybe you didn’t want to admit the effect the two very attractive men had on you.

Tara seems to see right through you, a coy smile on her face as she throws you a water bottle.

You chug it, ignoring her as you gather your things, tossing your bag over your shoulder. She walks alongside you as you exit the court.

“You know, they’ll probably be at the party tonight.” she sing-songs, skipping to catch up to your brisk pace. You were desperate for a cold shower and your bed.

“Good for them,” she rolls her eyes at your feigned nonchalance. You use both of your hands to scour your bag, scowling when you come up empty handed.

Tara clears her throat and you look up, narrowing your eyes at her. She dangles your keys in front of you, the tiny tennis racquet clinking.

As you reach out to take them, she pulls back. “Tell me you’re going tonight…”

“I can’t. I have practice early tomorrow.”

“Oh, please,” she rolls her eyes at the weak excuse. She crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes as if to say ‘I don’t believe you’.

“I vividly recall you promising me this would be your one night out.” 

You do remember. A promise that came from being tired from practice and Tara continuously pestering you about it. You’d argue it was more like she forced you until you said yes.

Tara twirls the keys around her finger, “I’ll stand here all day…”

Despite her playful tone, you knew better than anyone she would definitely stay here until you said yes. Your mind drifts back to the two boys sitting at the bleachers, the way you might have intentionally played up your skills. The way you felt your body heat rise, not just from your running back and forth.

This was not the first time you had seen them around. A glance of them on the courts, in the dining hall, at tournaments. The two were joined at the hip. It seemed as though they were always together. Practicing together, walking together, hell, they probably slept together.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t just a tiny bit curious to know more about them.

With a resigned sigh, “Fine,” you say, and her face looks as if she was just handed a brand new puppy. “But I'm taking clothes out of your closet.”

She throws you the keys, already on a tangent about what alcohol to pregame with. But as you enter your car and drive off, there’s only one thought on your mind.

You would make it your mission to get to know them tonight.

To no one’s surprise, Caleb is able to drag Zayne out to the party. He hated coming to any type of social gathering, but maybe the possibility of catching a glimpse of you was enough to get him out the door this time.

Zayne is embarrassed to admit how many times he changed his shirt.

They’re leaning against one the tables, beers in hand as they lazily watch the partygoers. The night was warm, a dampness kissing their skin. As entertaining as watching their drunk tennis club fall onto the grass was, they were really only here for one reason.

You.

However, as the night sky continued to darken, their hopes of seeing you began to diminish with the setting sun.

One beer turns into two, three, four, until their table is littered with empty bottles. Their faces were flushed, and the stars seemed a bit brighter now. Caleb has a permanent pout on his face, gaze on the beer cap he was flipping in between his fingers.

It was unlike him to be so affected by anyone, much less a stranger. He was a bit of a playboy back in the early days of his tennis career, a womanizer as Zayne would call him. Though it was far behind him, now, it was a bit humiliating for him to be so bent over a girl.

Zayne, on the other hand, stayed back for the most part. Not that he didn’t have many opportunities, trust that he had many. But Zayne was never one for no strings attached hookups. A hopeless romantic, Caleb would say to tease him. Though, he had no shame in his beliefs around love.

It was no wonder why he was so infatuated by you.

There’s an eruption of cheers from where people have made a makeshift dance floor, and Caleb lazily turns. His head shoots up, body turning at whiplash speed, causing a few bottles to fall to the ground.

“Hey—!”

Zayne furrows his brows, looking at Caleb for an explanation to his sudden movements. His eyes are wide, unblinking as if he’s afraid to miss whatever he’s watching.

He follows his gaze, and it lands on you.

In the middle of the crowd, there you are, dancing without a care in the world.

They stare dumbfoundedly at your figure, clad in a mini skirt and strappy top. You turn towards them, undoubtedly staring at both of them. Your eyes dart between them, an inviting smile on your face. Maybe the alcohol was making them hallucinate.

Zayne flushes, looking to the side and clearing his throat.

Without a second to think, Caleb is standing up and walking towards you.

“Caleb!” but it’s futile. All Zayne can do is standby and watch as Caleb works his infuriating charm on you, hands coming to sit on your waist with ease.

He hates to admit it, but somewhere in his heart he feels a twinge of envy.

The party is in full swing when you arrive. 

You're surprised to see how crowded it is, almost everyone from the tennis club was here and then some. Almost as soon as you arrive, Tara pulls you to the dance floor (that was more just a patch of shorter grass closer to the music). 

You can’t help the way your eyes scan the room, searching for those two inseparable figures. 

As you let the alcohol flow through your veins, dancing to the music, you find exactly who you’re looking for. 

Sitting perfectly in your line of sight, is the brown haired boy who couldn't keep his eyes off of you earlier. Even now, he’s staring straight at you, and you don't even try to hide the shiver it sends down your spine.

Next to him is his inseparable half, avoiding your gaze.

Your eyes say everything you can’t. An invitation. 

A fishing line thrown into the water.

The brown haired man is up before you can process, making a beeline for you.

“Hey,” he says, unabashedly checking you out with his iris colored eyes. You tilt your head, smiling. 

“I’m Caleb.”

“Hi, Caleb.”

The fish bites, you pull back.

You hold out your hand as an offer. An offer for what, you weren’t so sure yourself.

But he takes it, with almost no hesitation.

You guide his hand to your waist, letting him take control. He sways with you, following the beat of the music effortlessly. When he asks for your name, you tell him with a bite of your lip.

It was unlike you to be so forward, but there was no refusing it now.

You wanted him tonight, badly.

“I saw you playing today,” he leans down to say it, eyes hovering over your ear. The feeling makes you hot, not just from the lingering heat of the night.

“I know,” you breathe “I saw you, too.”

Caleb smirks, eyes lighting with a fire. “You’re amazing.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes. While you (usually) were not one to brag, it was something you were used to hearing. Hearing him say it, though, had a different type of effect on you.

You turn around, grinding against him as the music becomes more sensual. His hands grip your waist, and you swear you hear a low grunt. This was definitely having as much affect as it was on you. Your arms come around his neck.

“Who’s your friend?” You can’t help but ask as you eye the almost sulking man who was still at the table.

You see the way he’s eyeing you, a type of intensity you couldn’t describe. 

Tall, dark hair, chiseled features, and carrying an air of aloofness.

God, he was sexy too.

“Zayne?” he questions, a bit strained but you choose to ignore it. The man rocking his hips behind you, the one in front practically eye-fucking you, it was too much to handle.

Zayne and Caleb.

Was it crazy to want them both?

You twirl to face Caleb, not surprised to see his eyes have darkened into a deep hue of purple. It only encourages you further. “Why don’t we go back to your place?”

It’s bold, you’re well aware. It makes his eyes widen for a second, before a smug smirk appears on his face.

“Your friend’s invited too.”

Zayne and Caleb are very still. 

With bated breath, afraid to make any sudden movements.

The walk to their apartment was a blur, filled with gentle caresses and prying eyes. Caleb was almost seeing stars from the anticipation of getting to have you so close. Though, they were both unsure of what to expect, even through their beer-induced haze.

Sitting across from you, in their shared apartment, they were feeling completely sober now. 

They watch you carefully as your hand comes down to the beer bottle in the middle, using your fingers to spin it. Yeah, it might have been a juvenile game, but you seemed to have something up your sleeve when you suggested it.

And who were they to deny the girl that had them wrapped around her fingers?

Their eyes are glued to the spinning bottle as it slows down, landing…

Right in between Zayne and Caleb.

Their heads whip up to face you, and there’s a sly smile growing onto your face. You stand from the floor, walking to the couch behind you.

You plant yourself in the middle, leaning back on the palms of your hands.

“Come here,” you beckon with a jerk of your head.

Their eyes go wide, and Caleb glances at Zayne, whose face is impossibly red.

“Which one—?” Zayne starts, but Caleb is scrambling off the floor to sit next to you. As if a switch is flipped, he stumbles to follow, sitting on your left.

The air is still, the music that had been playing from somewhere in the room fading into the background. You lean your head back, biting your lip as your eyes dart between them both.

“Kiss me.”

The universe was surely on your side tonight. 

That was the only explanation for the position you were in.

You’re sandwiched by both men, and your biggest problem right now is choosing who to look at.

Two gorgeous, panty-dropping men, in the palm of your hands.

Two men who were staring at you like they wanted to devour you whole.

Caleb bites first, hand coming up to hold your face. His grip is firm, unwilling to let your gaze wander elsewhere. “Are you sure about this, baby?”

The pet name comes out too easily, but it makes you lean into him. You stare into his eyes, unyielding.

“Yes.”

“Both… of us?” Zayne asks, voice low.

“Yes.”

It’s firm. 

And it's all Caleb needs to crash his lips into yours. Behind you, Zayne’s hands wander up your thighs, slipping under your skirt as he attacks your neck, leaving a trail of saliva as he sloppily sucks on your skin.

You moan softly, and the sound makes Caleb's grip on your jaw tighten. He’s shoving his tongue down your throat, uncaring of the way you struggle to breathe.

He relents, letting go of your face. You turn to Zayne, whose face is flushed a sweet pink. He looks completely undone, and you haven’t even touched him. You work to unbutton his shirt, trailing kisses on his deliciously taut chest. As soon as it's off, you trail up his jaw until your tongue is slipping past his lips.

He kisses slowly, gentle with intention. Zayne lets you take the lead, and your nails trail over his exposed biceps. Tiny crescent moons bloom as your nails dig into his skin. He deepens the kiss.

There’s a smack on your ass, and you pull away to face Caleb once again.

“C’mere,” it's a demand. You crawl onto his lap facing away from the couch, back pressed tightly against his clothes chest. Zayne stands, moving to position himself in front of you. From here, you have a perfect view of the prominent erection growing under his shorts.

Caleb pulls your top off in one swift motion and you gasp as your nipples hit the air. His fingers brush over them, teasing and pulling before they trail down. Your skirt is pushed up past your hips, pink lace panties on full display for both of them.

“Fuck, baby,” Caleb moans as his fingers hover over your clothed pussy. “I can feel how wet you are already. I’ve barely even touched you.”

You whine, throwing your head back onto his shoulders. Zayne is watching you through heavy lidded eyes, palming his cock. As sexy as he looked like this, you wanted to put your hands all over him.

“Let me help you,” you stare up at him through your lashes. 

Zayne walks closer, watching your fingers make work of his waistband. You almost gasp when you pull his cock out, flushed a bright red and dripping at the tip. It was big, to say the least. You wondered how much of it could fit in your mouth.

Caleb’s slender fingers slip into your slick folds and you whine, hand faltering on Zayne’s length. It earns you a slap on your thigh.

“Don’t leave him waiting, baby,” his voice is low, and you'd give anything to be able to see his face right now. “Show him what you can do with that pretty mouth of yours.”

His words are enough to bring your mouth to Zayne’s tip. You slip him into your mouth, taking him until he hits the back of your throat. He throws his head back, groaning as his hand comes up to grip the back of your head.

He wasn’t even in all the way.

Your skin is hot to the touch, cunt dripping as Caleb continues to work you expertly. Moaning around his cock, you can’t keep your eyes off Zayne’s face twisted in pleasure. It was obvious he was attempting to hold back his noises, lips held tightly under his teeth. 

It only makes you want to hear him more, so you hollow your cheeks, bobbing your head up and down his length. With every stroke, his tip hits the back of your throat. 

“Oh, fuck,” Zayne groans as he brings his other hand to your head, hips sloppily thrusting against your mouth. His whimpers are like angels singing. Spit is dripping out of your mouth, your eyes are welling with tears, but you don’t care. How could you deny him such pleasure?

Caleb slips another finger in you, stretching your pussy with every hit against your walls. You moan as his other hand comes to pinch your nipple. 

“Mm, baby,” you grind into his hand, feeling his hard cock against your ass. His breath is heavy against your ear. His fingers seem to know exactly what spots to hit, your unending moans muffled around Zayne's length.

“You feel so good around me.” Your sounds get higher, walls squelching against Caleb’s fingers. That familiar feeling starts to pool at your belly, and he knows you're close.

“You gonna cum for me?” His voice is gruff, laced with desire as he works to push you over the edge. The coil tightens, but you make sure to keep Zayne’s cock in your mouth. 

“Mmmph!” you whine as you feel your liquid fight against Caleb’s fingers, soaking them completely. His eyes are blown wide as he watches your fluids shoot out of your pulsing hole.

“Holy fuck,” he whispers softly, taking his glistening fingers out and bringing them to his face. He can’t help himself, putting them into his mouth. Your taste almost makes him combust right then and there.

“Alright,” he says, looking at Zayne’s disheveled appearance with a smug smirk. “Let me have a turn, baby.”

With a pop! Zayne slips out of your mouth. Caleb stands, pulling you with him. He twirls you to face him now. His hand comes to your ass, slapping it hard enough to leave a mark. You moan, chasing his lips.

He lets you catch him, a gentle kiss compared to the way he just defiled your pussy.

“Bend over,” he says, and you do.

Zayne’s hands come to your waist, holding you in place. You feel your pussy clench in anticipation as you watch Caleb get rid of the clothing covering his hard cock.

And of course, he’s big.

Big and thick.

Enough to stretch your mouth completely.

Caleb slaps his cock against your cheek as he looks at Zayne.

“Why don’t you stretch her out a little more for me?”

The grin on his face says it all as he watches Zayne align himself with your wet cunt. You sigh, feeling his tip gliding against your lips before he slowly opens you wide. The fit is incredibly tight, and you can feel every single inch of his length as he slowly slides in.

Zayne is putty in your hands. The way you’re tightening around him is almost enough to drive him over the edge. His fingers dig into your hips.

Caleb brings his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up. He glides his thumb over your bottom lip. 

“So pretty,” he murmurs softly, bringing his tip to your lips.

“Go on, baby.”

That’s enough for the both of you.

Zayne brings his hips back, tip just at the entrance before he slams back into you.

You take Caleb into your salivating mouth, until your nose almost hits his skin. With every thrust against your walls, you slide your mouth up and down Caleb’s throbbing cock.

Your moans mix together sweetly, breaths mingling with the hot bedroom air. They’re unrelenting against your gaping holes, and you can feel the sweat dripping from their bodies onto you. A sheen layer of sweat covers them, almost glowing under the low light.

You’re a mess, moaning around Caleb’s cock as he uses your mouth to pleasure himself. 

Zayne’s head is spinning, drunk off the way your pussy felt around him. His hand comes up to pull your hair back, admiring the way your back arches. Every bounce of your ass against him got him closer and closer to the edge.

God, he was insatiable. 

Caleb was no better, unable to keep his eyes off your pretty face. Cheeks hollow, taking him so fucking well. He couldn’t believe how he had you. He was desperate to carve every line and curve of your figure into his mind, afraid that if he blinks you’ll disappear.

He hoped when morning came he’d still be able to see you.

“Fuck, baby,” Caleb moans, “I’m so fucking close.”

He looks over to Zayne, taking in the pink hue that trailed from his cheeks to his ears. His brows were furrowed, tongue hanging slightly out of his mouth.

Yeah, he was definitely close, too.

“Can I cum on that pretty face, baby?” you moan, trying to nod your head against his merciless throat-fucking.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Mhm,” is all you can muster.

Zayne’s hip thrusts were getting sloppier, and you tightened around him, wanting to make sure he came too.

Something about being completely covered in their seed made you lose all sense of self.

Caleb grunts as he pulls out of your mouth, spurts of cum shooting onto your face, dripping down your cheek. You stick your tongue out, hoping to catch some to taste.

Zayne follows soon after, pulling out of you to cum on your back. It’s warm, endless globs of his cum enveloping your back, falling down your waist. He pumps his cock gently, making sure to leave every last drop to you.

He leans down, placing a gentle kiss on the small of your back.

Their chests are still rapidly rising and descending as they try to catch their breath. In the post orgasm clarity, you can’t help but laugh at your situation.

Never did you think you would have ended up here tonight.

Though, you definitely weren’t complaining.

Caleb falls onto the couch, gaze still on you as he chuckles breathlessly. A mixture of disbelief and incredulousness on his face.

“Stay there,” You hear Zayne move behind you, walking into the bathroom and turning the faucet on. He comes back, gently holding you as he brings a wet towel to your skin. You gasp softly at the sudden contact, but you let him wipe your back down.

The gesture almost makes your heart swell.

Caleb looks at you with indiscernible emotions swimming in his eyes. He takes the towel from Zayne, wiping at your face with the most sedulous care. It’s so sweet, the way they handle you. You’d never think they’d be capable of all the sinful things you just witnessed.

Trying to ignore the way your face heats up as Caleb holds your face, you look away from his soft puppy eyes.

You stand up straight, slipping your skirt and ruined panties. With a flirtatious smile, you start walking to the bathroom. “I’m gonna shower.”

“Feel free to join me.”

Caleb and Zayne look at each other before scrambling to follow behind.

You awake to two pairs of arms enveloping you, the first signs of dawn peeking through the window. It takes all your energy to quietly slip out of their grip. The two men are too deep in their dreams to notice as you collect your scattered clothes.

You sigh as you hold the skirt Tara let you borrow in front of you. It was ruined completely. She was definitely going to kill you. And maybe congratulate you after she hears of your night.

Clad in a too-big Linkon Tennis Club hoodie and sweats, you’re about to slip out of the room when you look back to the bed.

Gorgeous, even with their tousled hair and soft snores.

Gently, closing the door, you fish your forgotten phone out of your purse. You glance at the time as you walk down the hallway, sighing when you realize you had enough time to make it to practice.

Hopefully they’d come to your next match.

[prkhaven]

LUCIFER -p.sh-

Banished away by the only place he’s ever known, Sunghoon was going to make sure the heavens regret ever betraying him by ruining you

pairing— fallen angel!sunghoon x virgin angel fem!reader

genre: smut minors do not interact, angel au, forbidden love, p with some/little to no plot

wc: 10k

warnings: manipulation, profanity, kissing, reader is innocent and a little oblivious

smut warnings: unprotected sex (safety first), p in v, edging, dirty talk, virginity loss, spitting, praising, fingering, corruption kink, oral (f rec.), breeding kink, overstimulation, pussy slapping, dacryphilia, usage of nicknames(angel, good girl, bad girl, pretty)

lily’s note: better late than never and happy 1k followers

Silence filled the atmosphere, shifting into something darker, looming and menacing. A nightmare—Your biggest nightmare come to life.

The known fallen realm walked through the entrance led by Sunghoon who chose to disregard the obvious attire formality of a masquerade ball.

Dressed in all black attire, none of the people matching together however still collectively wearing outfits that complimented solely each other. Easily due to the influence of Sunghoon’s doing.

Your jaw clenched because as much as you wanted to be angry for the lack of consciousness, especially in Sunghoon's part, you couldn’t deny that even as a fallen angel, he’ll remain the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen.

He threads closer to you. One large stride after another until he is right before you, bowing his head as a sign of respect—One that he used to receive himself when he was once in your very position.

Delicately picking your burning hand into his freezing ones, he planted a soft peck on it but never once did his eyes ever leave yours. There was a chill up your spine as he only gave a slight gleaming smirk before pulling away leaving your warm hand cold without his.

“You’ve done a marvelous job” His tone rumbling out deeply making your squirm, he smirked pulling out his masquerade mask hovering just over his eyes, a restful laid back smirk on his face

A chill ran up your spine from his enticing voice. It used to be warm and welcoming but now it felt taunting and teasing, “I expected nothing less from the perfect angel”

𓆩 𓆪

The ball returned to its somewhat regular state after that. Everyone amongst the two different realms stayed in their respective space, fearful of interacting with the other.

No matter how years pass by of the same ball being hosted yearly, nothing has changed. You nibbled on your lip trying to figure out some—any way that unites the two completely different worlds for one night all the way to sunrise when the ball has been concluded.

Too deep in your head, you didn’t pick up on the looming darkness behind until you heard it, “Do you dance?”

Your body froze while your mind erased everything it was thinking about when you turned around to see Sunghoon standing behind you. At least he had his mask on this time.

“Excuse me?” You whispered raising an eyebrow once seeing his offering hand for you grasp

“It’ll help liven up the ball just a little. Seeing you with me might do you the favors” He darkly chuckled, “Don’t want anyone seeing you in a dark light now do we angel?”

Crossing your legs at the sudden pet name falling from his mouth made you unexplainably bothered. You were annoyed by the unknown sensation that it was the perfect opportunity for him to clasp your hands into his.

You let out a silent squeal as you were suddenly brought dead center of the empty dance floor, his hand carefully landing on your waist while the other held your hand high in the air. A suddenly deepening instrumental rippled through the large hall and only then did your body’s move in sync.

“Not bad” He whispered loud enough to ear as he twirled you

Your complete white attire mixed with his dark one stuck out like a sore thumb. All eyes were on you, watching and witnessing the first dance between an angel and fallen angel in centuries.

Not even Sunghoon had chosen to dance with a fallen angel during his time as the perfect angel—A time long ago before his banishment.

He smirked noticing the gazes, his hand on your waist tightened as he guided you through the entire floor.

Whether you wanted to admit it or not, not once have you taken your eyes off Sunghoon. Ignoring the hushed whispers and questioning gazes of why you were with Sunghoon of all people. Why be with a traitor?

It didn’t matter however, well at least not at this very moment. Through the mask, he managed to shine brighter than any angel in the ball. Even way brighter than you.

“Do I have something on my face?” His voice laced with something that was never there before, something inviting

Eyes trained on you seeing the subtle gulp you tried to hide as you looked away from him shaking your head trying to get rid of the burning feeling on your cheek. He wondered what made you so shy all of sudden.

His hand lets go of yours leaving it to fall to his shoulder as he hooked his finger under your chin up to bring your eyes back onto him. You let out a breathless shudder noticing a difference in his smile now.

“There you go” He softly murmured before his fingers trailed from your shoulder to go lower on your arm until he found the palm of your hand to pry it off his shoulder and open to tangle his fingers perfectly with yours

In a state of shock, you didn’t close your hand leaving his hand to be the only one gripping yours. Anyone near would be able to see the shake of your body and the light goosebumps spreading all throughout from his cold touch.

You looked at him only made the smirk of his grow wider as he watched you. All from the rise of a goosebump on your arm that was later than the rest to the way your hands never fully closed around him. Yet, it was just enough where he could feel your fingers grazing his knuckles and how your clothes flowed around you so elegantly—Just like how he used to.

The music faded to mere background music as you solely focused on who was in front of you. A sharp glint in his eyes made your body turn and twist in ways you never experienced before. You could feel the thump against your chest grow faster the more you’re looking at him and in his hold.

The warmth of your hand disappeared when Sunghoon pulled away right before the music ended. Your eyes flashed trying to reconnect back into the world you were disconnected from to see Sunghoon bowing towards you. “It was a pleasure-“

He couldn’t finish his words when you were suddenly called out to and without a second spared turned a heel and left him behind on the now growing dance floor.

Your dance welcomed a new opportunity no one dared to touch but seeing you and Sunghoon dancing together—so beautifully, it allowed two opposite worlds to string together.

He watched your speeding legs towards who called you, his eyes never leaving you lighting patting at his chest. “See you soon angel”

𓆩 𓆪

Excusing yourself into the depths of an abandoned room with a large window letting the moonlight in as its only source of light. You let out a frustrated yell, removing your mask and throwing it onto the dust filled vanity, your body felt too hot to fully comprehend what was happening.

You were supposed to be celebrating after successfully starting the ball in ways no one else has ever done before. The fallen realm and your realm hesitantly but finally mingling together.

Yet, you’ve locked yourself deep into a room as you tried to get rid of the nasty feeling forming, clinging and trickling down.

Your stomach twisted and there was an ache down below in places you know were forbidden. Having read about these symptoms before in books restricted from the public eye but you had access to because of your current status.

Trying to shake your head to wake up from this growing nightmare. You fiddled with your purity ring like it could bring some hidden clarity.

Every angel received one to acknowledge their strong willed spirit, their deep devoted loyalty and hidden innocence to not fall into those sickening traps of false pleasure.

Roughly spinning the cold metal your finger as you stared at it.

This all started because of Sunghoon and his haunting spirit clouding around you from the moment he stepped foot into the ball.

You wish you could curse him out for managing to make you feel this way but your words caught in your throat unable to express how you were truly feeling.

You dipped your head low, finger still turning your ring clockwise. You wanted to enjoy the ball you worked so hard on without the lingering pain settling worse within you.

You whimpered hating how the mess only grew clinger to the point of discomfort. Flushing your body onto the vanity with your discarded mask, you looked up to see the hollowness in your eyes.

It was a search for something far out of reach. You knew that and yet the urge grew more. You wanted it so badly.

“Stop thinking about it” You mumbled quietly to yourself, “Stop it. You can’t think like this. You can’t have it-”

“Can’t have what angel?”

You jumped, knocking yourself into the vanity harshly with a yell you muffled when your hand landed over your mouth.

In the corner of the dark room, you see Sunghoon sitting in a wooden chair, head knocked back while his arms fell off to the side. “What- How long have you been here?!” You turned your body around to face him as he finally rose his head up with a deep sigh

Opening his eyes, you felt the sudden shiver creeping out of you when his harsh narrowed eyes looked at you. He tilted his head to the side, his hair falling in the same motion. The moonlight was the only way you were able to make out his silhouette but you could still see it like daylight.

You can nearly feel his shoulders again under your itching hands sending a wave past your stomach and itching further down.

Sunghoon observed you, his eyes raked over as he took in how the moonlight reflected on your outfit, structuring your outline perfectly as you looked at him with unknown hungry eyes beneath the innocent facade.

He smirked wildly when your legs unconsciously squished together. Realizing you were in a confined room away from everyone’s eyes and in front of you was him terrified you.

Sunghoon stood up from the chair, his height growing by the second as the ominous feel started to crawl into the back of your throat. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Your chest rose and fell with each heavy breath you took as he steps closer to you, “Like what?” Your voice barely above a whisper that could be heard

“Like you want to eat me up”

Sunghoon stood in front of you. The moonlight shining perfectly over him. Your heart stopped in your throat as your hands fidgeted back to the drawers on the vanity against your back.

For the first time, his eyes trailed down further to drink in your appearance. Noticing the effort you put into every single detail to be perceived in the white light of innocence—perfection—glory.

Indeed a perfect angel.

His hands landed on each side of you forcing you in between and keeping you in place. He leveled his head until his breath fanned over yours that he could hear the silent shake in it. Nose nearly brushing against each other while he stared deep into your eyes.

You feel so bare even though you were fully clothed. Sunghoon looked at you like you were an open book just for him, the pages filled with every thought that ever crossed your mind, even the far forbidden ones you tried to ignore.

“What’s wrong angel?” He removed a hand from the vanity to run his fingers to ghost your shaky arm

Your heavy breaths only worsened. Your eyes wavered trying to look away from him but couldn’t. The rationality faded away as your fear filled eyes now replaced with the glinting hunger.

He held back his smirk wanting to be as welcoming as possible to you. His ghosting fingers landed on your skin burning you up instantly. “You can talk to me” His voice slurred the words together, “You’re wrong if you think no one will understand”

“I can understand you, I’m the only one that knows what’s going on” His words of comfort seeped deeper into your mind meddling into the cracked walls of it

You looked towards him. Besides his clear banishment, you knew who else would know better than the previous perfect angel? Sunghoon knew things that you didn’t know of and he could help.

“There’s something bothering me…” Your soft voice made his heart roar against his chest

“Talk to me” He noticed how your eyes flickered all over his face, memorizing everything that he had to offer

The moles on his face, his sharp nose, his obviously built body. It struck you harder when you were reminded of the clothes he wore. The contrast to yours, reminding you of who he is—what his status is compared to your.

An angel forced to fall from grace.

Your mouth dropped and you quickly shook your hands and head. “I-I No. I shouldn’t” Your shaky voice did nothing but prove wrong your growing desire

“But you can” He whispered, “That's the beauty of it. You can” His ghostings fingers softly gripped your arms to wake you up from reality to drag you deep into fantasy

His hands trailed over your arms, each move burning more than the last. You shivered in his touch, something in the back of your mind, the little rationality you had left screaming at you to get away as far as you can.

But you jolted feeling his hands land onto your stomach and resting there. His thumb rubbed softly as he looked deep into your eyes,“It’s okay angel”

“Just tell me and I promise to make it all go away” His reassuring voice, his burning touch, you whimpered loudly.

Sunghoon’s hand froze and he felt his body become rigid hearing the pained whimper you let out. You sounded magnificent. “Hu-hurts”

“What hurts?”

Your eyes went up to look at his captivating eyes. There was reassurance, warmth that radiated deep into your soul making you melt. Deep down Sunghoon will forever be an angel regardless of his current status as a fallen one.

“Down there” You voice lowering towards the end, you felt embarrassed, your cheeks burning up and Sunghoon let out a light chuckle

“Where my hand is?” You forgot about the hand on your stomach and when you felt the faint rub of it, you nibbled on your lips harshly

He read you like an open book. “Or is it lower?” The drop of his voice and hand made your heart drop into the pit of your stomach feeling his hands thread further down, his eyes never once leaving yours

The hitch in your breath was his direct answer. Holding back a smirk, his hands drew closer acculating your clothes covering you. “Words angel… I need you to guide me” He whispered as his hands stopped just right above

With shaky hands you grabbed his wrist and brought it down further until it slotted right in between your legs. Instinctively Sunghoon cupped your core making you yelp.

Raising an eyebrow, he brought his mouth to fan over your ear, “Oh… This is a easy fix”

Your body felt so hot. His fingers softly grazed at your pussy, feeling the sticky sensation leaking through your outfit, making you jerk into his touch.

Eyes screwing shut as you lived in his grazing fingers but he ripped his hand away making you let out a pitiful gasp from the sudden warmth disappearing.

His eyes roamed over you, the bite on lip that he swears he could taste the metallic taste on his tongue.

Panting heavily, you carefully looked at Sunghoon's build. His previous face was replaced with a comforting look as his hand grazed your neck higher before his thumb was outlining your cheek. “May I help you fix it?” The tone soft and welcoming

“I hate to see you suffer what I suffered through”

Pure genuine emotion in his eyes folded you in half. Believing him almost instantaneously. You pouted your lips as you pawed at his wrist again, instigating more from him.

“Easy I’m going to help you” He chuckled softly noticing your eagerness, you looked at him with shaky eyes fueling his insides to roar louder than ever before, “Just say the words” His voice hushed

Knowing what he wanted, you nibbled at your lip, licking over the dryness of them. The thoughts running through your mind fading into nothing as all else disappeared when you looked into his eyes, he knew what you wanted.

“H-Help me Sunghoon” Your voice barely above a whisper but it was like a siren call to him that dragged him to you, he smiled softly before dipping his head into a hang

He lifted his head and looked straight into your eyes again with a nod of his head, “Anything for you… Perfect angel” He reminded but before you could retaliate his cold hand cupped at your clothed core again

You gasped, your hands rushing over to clasp over your mouth with a pained sound slipping through. The tips of his finger already teasing through the fabric, feeling the dampening material hitting them.

Your free hand clasped around his dipped wrist, your breath shuddering with each slide of his fingers as they rose higher in between your folds until they met your sensitive bud. “S-Sunghoon”

“That’s my name” His whisper rung in the shell of your ear

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head the moment his finger pushed on a sensitive spot that made you wail. His fingers mimicked an infinity motion that made your arms flail to his shoulders. Your head racked against him as your chest felt heavy.

“It’s okay. I’m right here with you” The words passed your ears to your mind, your shaky hands holding onto him for support

A jolting shivering rose up your spine as your mind became hazy to the feel. Sunghoon’s finger dipped in between your folds, the feel of your soaking self seeping through to his finger made him harshly bite his lip.

Roughly bringing his finger back to your clit, your head hung low as you steadied your breaths with pants. Your heart was beating out of your chest that you swore he could hear it from how close he was to you now.

Your mouth opened to say something but you felt his cold hand trailing around your jaw. Separate movements managing to make you jolt harsher in his hold. His fingers traced around your cheeks as he lifted your chin.

The glint in his eyes made you close your mouth.

“Let me hear you angel” He muttered loud enough for you to hear

The harder press against your bundle of the nerves had a tightening feel in your stomach. “Wa-Sunghoon!” You squealed louder as the tingling sensation became worse

Unable to concentrate and make a coherent sentence, your shaky hand tightly gripped his forearm as your jaw hangs open with breathless moans leaving it. Sunghoon stared at your screwed shut eyes.

Unconsciously your body rocked to feel his cupped hand. He noticed your lower body rubbing faster in his hand, he scoffed out a smile as he looked at your scrunched up face.

Hands roaming his tone build as you used his hand for your pleasure, the knot in your stomach was daring to snap. Your head falling off his body to the side as it twirled to the back.

“Sunghoon” You cried out his name

A flash flowed over his eyes. His hand cupped deeper and harder, his fingers working faster against you as your knocked back head landed onto his shoulder.

Your mouth directly into his ear, as he roughly pushed you against the vanity, the table smacking against the wall, knocking over whatever was on it in its wake, his free arm holding your back while you held onto him for support.

Your breathless moans became more frequent, you were shaking in his hold. “Weird, I feel weird” You muttered clawing at his body

“I know but it’s going to feel so good soon I promise. Just let go” He whispered soothing your raging nerves to a bay

Your mouth hangs open, pitiful whines and moans growing louder each second directly into his ear. Unable to open your eyes and assess what’s around, your body becomes limp being engulfed by him. His fingers rubbed harder against your clit, the tips of his finger dipping into the crevice in between your folds teasing your covered core.

The height with your heads in the cloud, his hand ripped away from its cupping manner as you pushed him away the moment a faint knock to the door followed by a soft calling of your name snapped you out.

Chest heaving as you harshly gulped down staring at him. His body relaxed and calm—opposite from yours. Your burning lower half left you bothered but shaking your head to snap out of it. The side of his lips tugged up seeing distress wash over you.

You immediately turned around against the vanity to see your once cleaned demeanor tarnished. Uneven short ragged breaths as you hastily pull and adjust the out of place material to its proper place.

Undeniable shaky hands dragged down your face. Clearing your throat quietly, “Okay so I’m going to leave first and then you’re going to wait a few minutes before…“ You turned around grabbing your discarded mask off the vanity in the process but stopped to see no one there

Jittering around the now empty room. Your open mouth was going to call out his name but you quickly shut it the moment the door bursts open.

Straightening out your posture and stopping in your very, you turned around to see the crowd growing by the second and spilling into the room with endless questions of your well being and of just why you would lock yourself away in this scary room.

“You have no idea what’s out there!” A voice slipped past through your ringing ears, you looked behind to the darkness of the room you were in as you were carefully guided out broken door back into the light of the bustering ball

”Look at you, you’re shaking!”A worried pitched voice cooed in your ear, rubbing up and down on your causing a silent hiss to slip through attempting to pull yourself away from the touch

Your gaze to the floor seeing your feet following after the other as your lips tugged to the side brushing past your uneven balance by the tugs pulling you away.

Angels would never do harm, you knew that much taking pride in being one and Sunghoon was once one—surely he’d abide by it again while on your turf.

𓆩 𓆪

You stared at yourself in the mirror. Managing to get through the ball under the spotlight and eyes of everyone, it felt like a weight off your shoulder.

Licking your lips to remoisturize them felt taunting as your eyes felt hollow yet thoughts ran through your mind sparking up your dull eyes for a second.

A frown laid upon your face as you harshly turned your back away.

You sighed as your shaky hand tried to calm itself as you neatly placed your mask in the corner of the table. Your gaze remained on the discarded mask for a second longer than you wanted.

Blinking harshly and slightly shook your head as you threaded to remove yourself from your attire but a light knock stopped you.

Softly turning your head to scan your room, you were met with nothing. Your eyes landing towards the doorway leading to the balcony set only for your use, your feet moved on its own as you ignored the gnawing eating at you.

Pushing open the door, the night sky and moonlight illuminating did nothing to show if there was anything out there. Quickly scanning around the area, your tensed shoulders dropped.

Rubbing your forehead with light grumbling you were going to go back finishing getting ready for sleep. Your body barely turned until you quickly whipped your head back seeing the mask neatly placed on the marble floor.

Your eyebrows knitted together before crouching down to pick up the mask.

Squinting your eyes, your eyes follow the design of it. The tips of your finger tracing after. “Like it?”

Turning too quickly, you trip over your feet. The mask at hand slipped through your fingers and fell to the ground. You gasped seeing Sunghoon’s face come into view right in front of you. His arms securely behind your back to save you from the fall. “You need to be more careful” His voice light and airy in your ears but heavy on your heart

A harsh thump smacked against your chest as your hand ran to push his body away from yours. “What are you doing here?!” Your quietly screamed

Sunghoon raised his hands up in defense. The smirk wiped off his face as he fixed his posture. “Wanted to personally bid goodbye to you” He gave a light smile before bowing his head, his arm extended over his chest to his heart

You opened your mouth to say something. He lifted his head up and his eye caught yours. You closed your mouth opting to let out a heavy sigh, rubbing at your nape before bending your body forward to return the bow.

“What are you really doing here?” Your tone questioning made him laugh, he straightened out his body before clearing his throat and tugging at the hanging neckline of his sweater

“I know everyone graced with your presence must properly bid you well” His voice dropping with each word, eyes averting yours, fingers crossing over themselves, “I really only came to say goodbye, I swear”

“That’s a bold statement to make. Especially in my presence” Your voice became stern making him drop his head

Silence fell upon you both. Your teeth gritted against each other as you watched his unmoving body. Slightly tugging at your bottom lip while keeping him in your sight, you took a step closer to him.

In his lowered eyesight, his discarded mask was brought into view. He slowly raised his head and gracing your face was a small smile that caused his own. “I believe you Sunghoon”

Simple words struck a cord deep inside of him. His resting hands balled into a fist as he let out a strained sigh as his lips tightened into a thin smile. “Thank you” He uttered carefully grabbing the mask from your hands

You pulled your hand away the moment you felt his hands graze yours. The feel instantly overwhelmed you as you looked anywhere else but at him. His eyes took notice and he uncomfortably moved his mouth around before nodding his head at you.

Turning a heel, he walked over to the edge of the balcony. His hand felt the familiar marble pillars as railings and he softly laughed at himself. “Memories?” Your voice came from behind

Simply only able to nod, he began to feel your presence growing closer to his. His fading smile returned full force on his face before peering off his shoulder to you right beside him.

Wavering eyes and a silent shake in your breath when he looked at you. Shifting his body to fully face you, his hand rested onto the rail. “You sure know how to surprise someone” You joked causing a hearty laugh from him

Your face dropped upon hearing his laugh tumble out. Noticing your silence, Sunghoon furrowed his eyebrows at you. “Sorry- I just haven’t heard you laugh”

He remained his gaze on you before looking ahead of him to the moonlit scenery—sighing heavily, his eyes naturally looking around. “I don’t really remember the last time I was able to have fun” He admitted

The shift in him made your heart churn. “Maybe that’ll change” He turned his attention back onto you

Instantaneously, you froze up under his lingering gaze. A thought crossed your mind of there being something more than he meant while a jitter coursed through you and a feel washed over as you awkwardly shifted on your feet.

His eyes looked up and down before letting his hand slip away from the rail to land at his side. He watched your eyes move in between him and the ground. His mouth teased upwards before he dropped it. The excitement began to burst out of your chest, the closer he got.

“When was the last time you had fun… Perfect Angel” The elegance tied to the name felt different than the other times people called out to you

It feels heavier—darker, more exciting now that it left your legs to squish together. Noticing your action, he stopped right in front of you.

Your eyes remained trained on the floor yet, his finger hooked under your chin. Your gaze being brought up to meet him, “I’m sure good girls are supposed to use their words”

“So use them for me pretty” Your heavy breath became shaky as an audible shudder left past your lips, your eyes fluttering as you looked over his face

His thumb stroked your cheek with a soft smile. You tried to pull your head away but he gripped your chin to keep you still. The now stroking thumb tapped at your parted lips, “Well?”

Your bottom lip quivered as he brushed over it, softly humming to himself satisfied with the plush feel under the pad of his thumb before slightly tugging it down.

His gaze remained on your mouth while yours remained on his trained eyes. In a teasing manner, he slip through your parted lips, “Sorry” He quietly muttered yet showed no sign of actual apologies

He smirked wildly, noticing how you immediately welcomed the foreign flesh into your mouth without hesitation. “Have to be careful, there’s some evil people out there” He pressed his thumb onto your tongue causing a gurgle sound to slip out

His eyes drooped as his free hand strokes your head in a slow motion, “No need to worry, I can scare them away” He murmured as your hand rose to his forehead to hold him

No intention of pushing him away, you realized you enjoyed this far more than you should have. You blabbed gibberish against his thumb, “Look at you trying to speak with your mouth full” He tooted, “You got it” He ushered you to get something out

Through the accumulative spit, your eyes became watery, the burning sensation in your core now throbbing for attention. It was far more painful than earlier. “Please” You weakly wailed and he pulled back his salvia covered thumb from your mouth

His eyes looked at the string of saliva connecting you together, he smiled to himself watching how you took deep breaths to regain composure. His hands landed at your side, lighting trugging you towards him.

A gasp slipped past his tongue as he looked at you with an unexplainable expression. “Please what?” He narrowed his eyes at you, “Use your words. I can’t read what’s in that pretty head of yours”

The words held some truth to them. Not able to read what’s directly in your mind but he can see what’s flashing glint in your eyes and how your body reacts to his touch.

You opened your mouth, playing with the words in your mind to form anything to say. His eyes burned into you, ushering the words to fall from your mouth. “Help me” The tone of voice was near pitiful and gut wrenching

His heart leaped and hammered against his chest, he softly cooed at you, “I got you angel” His hand rose up to your cheek softly creasing his thumb over it

Shuddering under your breath, his hand traveled down tracing your jaw in its wake before softly grabbing at your neck. You looked before he softly tugged you to him, his lips pressing against yours.

Unmoving from the new sense of flesh pressed against you. Your eyes widened watching his opened ones staring right back at you, he smirked in the kiss before planting pecks on the side of your mouth.

Your heart caught in your throat as you tried to gulp down the lump. Your hands squished in between your bodies as you softly gripped his shirt. The fuzz cotton under your fingertips made you shiver, the eclipse shining in the center with the deep v-cut exposing the dangling plain chain against his chest, a different shirt from what you saw at the beginning of the night.

“Want to wear it?” He hummed against your skin, his teeth faintly nicking at it made you jump at the feel

Your hands pressed at his chest as your eyes fluttered closed shut. His roaming hands rested at your back, pulling you closer to him. Instinctively, your knees buckled underneath you, the fuzzy feeling in your mind traveling everywhere.

The wet sensation soon left your skin and before you were able to open your eyes, the soft press against your lips made you hum in delight. Your hands came in between as you softly grasped his face into your hand. “There you go angel” Muttering in the kiss as he pushed your body backwards

Your legs moving with the flow as he followed after yours. His hand rose higher up your body. The dark long sleeve covering the white coloring of your top.

Focusing too much on the kiss, you barely managed to hear the faint click of the door closing until you were carefully guided onto your bed.

Laying you down on your back just enough to have your legs hanging off the edge, his body hovered over yours. Hands on each side of your head while your arms snaked around his neck to keep him close.

The kiss was messy and uncoordinated, you were putting far more teeth, nipping at his lips but he groaned when you did.

“Sorry” You muttered against his lips, unable to pull yourself away

He chuckled, shaking his head before tilting his head to deepen the kiss. “Practice will make perfect”

Your head felt heavy but the plush of his mouth moved as he placed countless kisses to the side of your face tracing it until he reached your neck again made you feel light.

His body rested softly on yours, his hands dropping to your side before slipping underneath and tracing up higher.

Breathless moans slipped through, filling the quiet room with your noise. Sunghoon felt his stomach churn hearing how you sounded.

Indeed a perfect angel meant to be tainted in darkness.

Your chest rose and dropped with each pant. Your body becoming pliant against his touch, your head buried to the side of your mattress. Squishing your legs tighter together in an attempt to ease the pressure.

Sunghoon looked at you. Placing one last kiss at your neck before pulling away. His eyes traveled to you underneath him, how your arms bent up and hand covered your face but your smile still peeked through the cracks of your fingers all whilst his hand rested on your stomach.

You were waiting for someone to come and show you. Of course no one else is going to do that but him, not only can he do that, he can do so much more—which he will.

“Absolutely perfect” He said, “But let’s fix your position” He hummed before pulling his hand away to lightly land on your thighs

You shivered, the touch near where his hand once was made your heart race. He watched your expression, how your breath hitched at where he rested.

His fingers trailed down on each side of your legs before reaching your knee. Tracing over the outline of it, he chuckled before cupping at each of them. “Open for me”

Barely noticing any resistance on the prey of your legs opening. You were so trusting, far too willing. “There you go” He quietly praised as the dipped crevice came into view.

Your glistening pussy peeking out in full display caused the jur in his own pants as he bit harshly on his tongue to hold back the moan to slip out.

He carelessly forgot. Undergarments weren’t a thing here.

“Fuck” He breathlessly whispered under this breath making you snap your head to him, eyes wide looking right at him as you tried to pull your legs away

Quickly his grip tightened on your knees, “I didn’t mean it. Forgive me angel” He slurred the words as he sank down to his knees causing you to push yourself up to your arms, “It was careless of me to say that. I’m sorry”

You looked at him and your heart nearly jumped out seeing the position. Laying on his knees in front of your opened legs, his head cranked up to you as his eyes bore into yours. Your jaw dropped as you tried to get him to stand up again but failed when he gently pushed you back. “Let me work for your forgiveness. See if I’m worthy of it”

“Sung-“ You stopped when his fingers feathered up to the and his face inched closer before burying in the warmth of your pussy, instantly inhaling the scent with the wet slick rubbing on his nose

You squealed loudly the moment his face touched upon your bare self. Hands falling around your mouth to stop the sounds from bouncing out louder than you wanted. Sunghoon looked from between your legs and frowned instantly, “You don’t have to cover your mouth”

“No one can hear anything” He watched how you took his words without a second thought and loosened your hand before having it fall to your side to grab onto the sheets in support

“Don’t let yourself hold back. Let anything and everything out- Don’t think about it and just let go”

Your body nearly toppled when you felt a wet stride strike across your folds, his hands moved from your knees to your hips as he held them to keep you in place.

“Let me apologize” His voice muffled sending vibration from your core straight to your head

Slacking his jaw, his mouth closed tasting the essence of you on his taste buds making him instantly light headed. “Hoon!” Your voice pitched out as you tried to pull away but he placed a hand on your stomach ushering you to lay back down

“Let me at least do this for you” He pulled away a string connecting in between making you try to close your legs but he forced them open.

Burying his head back into you, “Don’t close them on me” Your mouth fell open again when he sucked on your bud that shot electricity throughout your entire body

You’ve read about this in the books at the restricted library. You just couldn’t recall what the name is. Your body arched off your bed, your lower half pressed firmly against the mattress as he kept you there.

“So sweet. So damn sweet” You managed to hear him through the ringing of your ears while his tongue smeared around your folds, expanding the wet mess

Your soft whines seeped past through his ears to his brain as he lapped at your pussy like a man who's been starved of his favorite meal. “Sunghoon” You breathlessly call out his name but unable to say anything further more when something slipped past your tight hole

He hissed at raw narrow tightness, “Good girl” He watched as his single finger disappeared in you, your hole spasming around the intrusion trying to push him out—to deny yourself of what you want

The hand holding you in place rubbed its thumb against you. Your breath shudders with you trying to articulate words when you feel the drag of his finger leave your gummy walls before easing back in. “So wet… Makes it so much easier”

Your head knocked back into the mattress while your hand fisted at the sheets. His finger slid in and out of you, his eyes watching how you coated him—leaking around and sliding off through the crevice crack.

His eyes zeroed in how your fluids traced down the dip of your body, threading into a territory he promises to work his way to.

You let out a loud wail when his finger curled inside, feeling the soft gum of your walls at his fingertips. You shook your head but his mouth attached itself back to your clit making you moan out his name.

Sunghoon smirked once he heard the increased volume of your noises. Taking his words as exactly as he told you—he smirked against your pussy before sucking at your folds as his finger swirled around.

Your hand itches to play with his hair and he felt the hesitance radiating off of you. He’s quick to grab your hand and ruffle it into his hair, giving you the chance to hold him.

Instantly, your hands tangled into his hair. The smoothness of it raked through the slots of your fingers as you closed your eyes, allowing your mouth to slack itself—letting all noise slip out.

You cried out when your hole was stretched even more after the addition of another finger. He pushed your walls apart, scissoring you open all while his tongue tried to slip in daring to open even wider.

Lifting his fingers to brush against your gummy walls in a repetitive motion had you shivering, “So pretty” He praised, his eyes focused on your stretched out hole, “You take stuff so well”

Your stomach flooded at the feel, a curling sensation forming the more he slipped his fingers in and out, curling them at just the right moment when he eased in and correlating it with his mouth on you.

He could tell you were close. The pulse around his fingers was the indicator. He pumped his fingers at a faster pace, “Hold on wait- m“ You felt a spasming feeling in your stomach, weakly shaking your head as your moans became broken

Your eyes screwed shut but shot open when the crunching feeling was ripped away causing you to let out a deep whine. But the feel of a wet sensation landing onto your core made you freeze as you looked to see the string of saliva falling from his mouth down onto you.

His eyes remained on your pussy, his finger creasing over your mound spreading his spit around your sensitive folds. Having pulled them apart watching the contraction motion of your hole before letting go.

His hand slapped at your pulsing self and you loudly gasped and tried to close your legs but he pressed his body in between to prevent that.

“You’re already leaking so much…” He softly muttered to himself before sending another soft slap to your soaking self made you jump in shock, the wet sound ringing out your room while your incomplete fluids splashed around

You tried to weakly call out his name until you noticed him admiring the fingers that were once knuckles deep inside of you. He examined his hand with a soft smile on his lips before bringing it to his lips, sucking them clean.

When he looked over to you, he observed how you looked at his pruned soaked fingers and he lightly chuckled before bringing them to your lips, tracing over them. His thumb cupped your jaw while his index finger rubbed at your lips before forcing it open to slip in.

You accepted the invitation of his two fingers without resistance, he darkly chuckled as he pushed further down.

Your throat constricted him, rumbles of gargle sounds erupted out preventing him from going any further and he smirked feeling how your throat tightened around his fingers. Cooing at you as his free hand creased your head, “Don’t worry, I promise to you’ll be able to take more soon” He assured you before pulling out his fingers

He shook his hand, riding off the excess wetness on them as he let out a laugh. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He hummed tilting his head to the side an amused smile on his face

“Like what?” You frowned slightly as you looked at him with narrowed eyes

“It’s okay to feel frustrated. It doesn’t always feel like that. I’m checking what you can handle and what you can’t”

“I don’t want you to get hurt for biting off more than you can chew” His hand creased at your head, the same comforting smile stretching across his face prompting your own in mere seconds

“I promise you that this is it. You have my word” He hummed before carefully placing a peck onto your forehead, “Let me do all the work, just sit there and look pretty for me angel” the stretched name made your heart hammered against your chest as you hips rutted in the air

Sunghoon tooted his lips, slightly shaking his head. “Impatient” He sighed before slapping at your still sensitive pussy again

You lightly groaned, your body crumbling forward but he pushed your upper body back down the mattress to keep you laying and exposed for him, “Good girls can get punished if they misbehave. You don’t want to be like that okay?”

“A perfect angel must be the best. The standard, to show everyone that no one can reach you—that no one can ever be as worthy as you”

“You can’t taint yourself with unnecessary things” He explained and his words had an underlying hint underneath it that made your eyebrows furrow

“And is this unnecessary?”

Your question made him look at you, eyes softening the moment he catches yours slightly shaking his head. “Of course not. These are the needs that have to be cured and taken care of”

“If these were deemed unnecessary, it wouldn’t happen in the first place”

Softly cupping your face into his hands, he placed a kiss onto your lips—a little longer than the past times. “You need to be taken care of. So please let me have the honor of doing so” He asked, almost pleading with the slurred toned he used

With the soft nod of your head, his smile itched greater, his cheeks pulling higher. His hands pulled away from your head and fiddled with the belt of his pants. The metal clanking sound had your eyes wandering to the evident bulge peeking out, only to see it grow in size when his pants fell to the floor.

Your eyes furrowed, noticing the second layer of fabric covering him. “It’s standard procedure for us when you’re there” He meant where he now resided in the fallen realm

Nodding your head at his response to your silent question, “Take them off” He quietly said, taking a step closer to you and grabbing your hand, “I’ll help you”

You sucked your bottom lip and gulped harshly as he guided your fingers to hook at the top of the piece of material before dragging, guiding your hands to pull down the fabric in its way.

Your heart jumped before stopping as your eyes grew in size seeing what was in front of you. How what was being confined inside of the thin fabric sprung out once it was freed, the angry leaking tip hitting against him as you fully pulled down his briefs to land with his pants.

He watched as you took at the notice of the large shaft resting, “This is going to make you feel good too” He inched close to close the gap inbetween

Your eyes flickered in between his strained smile and erection staring right at you. “Take a big deep breath for me angel” His voice hoarse and strained trying to lace it over with a warm, comforting feel

Grabbing his shaft at hand, he silently hissed at the cold touch but tried to shake his head. Sizing himself to your slicked folds, before his tip touched the essence of you with his own. He silent hissed, nearly knocking his back as he rubbed an inch of his cock over your folds.

He could hear the gasp you let out but he remained focused on watching how your arousal coated him the more he pressed himself higher between you. “Just setting everything up” His voice was straining as he watched the layer of your pussy spread as he slipped by

Your quiet moans filled his mind when his tip gilded higher until it grazed over your clit. His moves are slow and calculated, trying to coat himself as much as possible, that his hands are drenched by what’s leaking out of you.

“So fucking wet” He whispered under his breath as it got blocked by your growing pants when he dragged himself harder against you, the pace growing faster

His hand wrapped harder around his cock as he focused on how you were leaking even more that he didn’t believe was even possible.

Your eyes were closed, the foreign feel of flesh upon flesh made your heart jitter in your chest. Forbidden was all that changed through your mind but you weakly shook your head when the rubbing suddenly stopped.

Trying to snap out of the dizzying pain, Sunghoon aligned himself at your entrance. His heart beating so loud he swore you’d be able to hear it over yours. He licked his lips once he realized your gaze was now on him.

Your eyes wander around, noticing the plain necklace hanging on his neck but it disappears from your mind when a flesh tip is teased at your hole before trying its best to push past the undeniable squeeze and focus on how you strived to accept him.

Sunghoon’s body crumbled forward, arms resting on each side of your head as he weakly held himself up while his head fell into the crevice between your neck and shoulder.

His breath shook as he tried his best to even his raging mind out. His sanity and rationality plumpting further down the hole he left them in.

“Never thought there could be anything more perfect than you” He grunted, pushing past the tightness of you as you gripped around him, “But your pussy tells me otherwise”

“Too much- Too big!” You thrashed, tears brimming at your eyes as the stretch grew more as he inched deeper, “Sung- Hurts!” You cried out but he only cranked his neck to nuzzle into your neck

He messily placed kisses against your neck, sucking on the skin to tarnish it. “I know but you’re a good girl. You can take it for me angel”

Your fingers dug into his back, holding onto him while the tears split and fell down your cheeks. Sunghoon kissed your tears away, messily pampering you with kisses, “Focus on me” He grunted once he bottomed out

Clenching around him as you tried to get adjusted to the size you never believed to be introduced to or feel ever in your life.

“So full” You weakly muttered causing him let out a strained laugh

“Taking me so well” He messily kissed your cheek, “Never doubted you’d be so good to me—maybe even too good for me”

You opened your mouth to respond but instead a guttural hissed left your throat when he softly moved an inch away from you. “Shh I know”

“Do you trust me?”

His words meant to feel heavier but to your mushed mind, you nodded your head right away. “I trust you Sunghoon”

Forfeiting to him caused his cock to twitch inside of you. The closed confinement made it nearly impossible to move or try to stop himself from coming at that moment. “It’s going to feel good, I promise”

A silent hissed mixed together as he carefully dragged himself out as much as he was allowed to before pushing himself back into you. “Shit” He groaned loudly, “So fucking tight-“

You buried your head into the crook of his neck as your bottom lip shivered. Your face covered in your tears as you let out pained wails, “Look at me. I need to see you” He pushed your clinging body away until you came into his view

Your chest rising with each shaky breath you took, your eyes staring at him before his head dipped and captured one of your breasts into his mouth. Hands flung to his hair, harshly tugging at it when he pulled out more before slamming right back into you.

You wrench your fingers to interlock with his hair, your body barely able to jerk up with him resting against you.

Sliding out and repeating the same motion of going back into you, Sunghoon swears he’s returned to where he was meant to belong—in heaven.

The sounds that leaked from your mouth only fueled the carnal desire within him. Once finding a pace that he felt you clench around him tighter than anything ever before but grateful for your arousal leaking around him and slipping by, he didn’t let up.

Grabbing at your sides, the tip of his cock prepping and tickling your insides made you melt. “Burns Hoonie” You squealed, your hands dragging down his back, holding onto him desperately

“I’m right here angel. Doing amazing- Taking me so good in that sweet pussy of yours” He grumbled as his hips slammed against yours, the lewd sound of your arousal plastering on him made your face scrunch and your stomach burn

“Sung…Hoon! Ho-hoon!” Your voice were like sirens in his ears, Sunghoon’s body couldn’t let up to a slow pace—forbiddening that thought from his mind

Harshly meeting you with his hips, his grunts grew more frequent. “Look at you calling out to me” He laughed, “Cock feels that good in you?”

Only able to nod your head, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body jolts forwards from his thrust. He watched how you moved on the mattress, how the loud creaking of your bed would easily expose you. A smirk plastered on his face when his hand twisted at your nipple making you loudly squeal.

“Answer me”

You tried to hide your face but he gripped your chin to keep you from looking away from him. His stern gaze made you scrunch your face before wailing out, “Feels so good- I love it”

He smirked but it dropped because it wasn’t enough. Selfishly, he wanted more—He will get more.

“Not good enough” He grunted, “Say you love how deep it’s inside you. How fucking good my cock is to you”

Your face scrunched, shaking your head but his grip on your jaw worsened, ushering you to say—he knew you felt it, you just needed to openly admit it.

Aimlessly opening your mouth to speak, “So good. So deep. I love your-“ Your voice got caught in your throat to finish the sentence

“Say it angel”

A sudden harder thrust made you scream, your nails clawing at his back that you were sure you were scratching him through his top. “Love your cock” You meek out just enough for him to hear

Sunghoon’s smirk grew wider. “What about if I fill you up? You like the sound of that mhm?”

“Taking everything in you like the good angel you are?” His hands squeezed your cheeks as he messily placed a kiss on your lips. Teeth clashing and saliva dripping as he drilled his cock into your soaped core

The meant to be empty space forever in you was filled by him. Every inch he added into you, you felt. His tip grazing over spots causing you to hold onto his bicep, enjoying the strained bulge it provided.

You whined against his lips but he drank up all the sounds, your body consuming him as he consumed your mind.

Feeling your abdomen shift into a higher sensitivity, suddenly tightening as your fingers dug harder into his bicep, your whines turned into straight moans. “I feel weird again-“ You pointed out as you pulled away from the mess of his lips

“I can feel it angel” Sunghoon chuckled seeing your lips swollen, “Sucking me more into you, like you don’t want to let go of me”

“It’s okay, I promised you could let go this time”

He brought his head next to yours, his lips tickling against your ear, “Come for me angel”

The words shift a gear into your mind. Your body becomes hyper aware of everything. How heavy your breathing was, how the concealed sounds coming from Sunghoon soon slips past to your ears.

And just how pulled apart your pussy was from the new intrusion with the heights given to you.

The dried tears returned as it rimmed around your eyes as your voice cracked in pitch, “I-I” You stuttered trying to make a coherent sentence

Sunghoon pressed down on your stomach as he continued his irregular and sloppy thrust. “Keep tightening around me like that” Your mind became hazy as his thrust became faster—almost as if they were chasing something

“Want me to breed your pussy till you’re leaking of me?” Sunghoon grumbled in a ragged breath, “Have me make sure to fill you up properly until it fucking takes?”

The words made your heart race pick up, your mind not processing or fully understanding the heavier heft meaning behind them. Yet, you aimlessly agreed with an eager nod of your head.

He smirked at your wordless response. Watching how your mouth was full on slacked as he pushed his cock as deep as he psychically could. Bottoming out completely as he let out a guttural groan all while you harshly clenched around him, the warm feel erupting inside of you.

You gasped loudly, your hands grabbing onto him tighter than before, eyes screwed shut as your body voluntarily arched off your bed forcing him out. Too dazed to realize the lack of flesh buried in you as you focused on the dripping sensation falling out.

Sunghoon gawked at you, the evident afterglow basking over you as your chest dropped trying to regulate your breathing, your hand finally loosening as you pushed the warming liquid in you out.

He reached up where your hand rested and noticed the band on your ring finger. Carefully clasping his hand over yours, your heavy eyelids weakly opened seeing his fingers play with yours. You smiled softly but it dropped when he soloed on the purity ring.

Playing with the metal with his fingers, turning it into a circular motion before bringing your finger up for him. Engulfing his mouth around it, his teeth grazed your flesh as he bit the ring and tugged it upwards.

You tried to pull your hand away but his hand held your wrist to keep you in place.

The sudden bare of your finger came into sight when he dropped your hand. His mouth closed until he smiled, your purity ring hanging right in between his rows of teeth.

He felt a tug at his heart seeing the afterglow expression gone but his heart soon grew more active when he watched how your face dropped, eyes widening into pure mortification.

Lightly chuckling, his hands rise to the back of his neck, unclasping his own necklace. Slipping your ring through the bare chain, he lifted it to show it hanging right in the middle.

“You won’t be needing that anymore, would you angel?” The nickname that you once carried in pride now felt forbidden and rotten

Sunghoon chuckled and it rumbled deep from his stomach as he saw your eyes frantically looking at him. He cooed at your state and grasped your face into his hands.

Yet, a soft melody filled your room as your face scrunched hearing him humming the song every angel knew of when they attended their ceremony to receive their purity ring.

Mocking you as you watch him placing the chain back around his neck, your ring now dangling against his chest.

You winced when his hands grabbed your leg and you were suddenly brought into a new position.

The lower half of your body rose high when your knees bent as he flushed your legs to your body, exposing your sore entrance that was messily mixed with your cum and his cum leaking down to your sheets—tainting them.

“You’d give up heaven for me if you had to, won’t you angel?”

——

[aneertawrites]

jealous!Sylus x fem!Reader

a/n : saw this edit on tiktok and got the urge to write... ++ the green eyes are a metaphor for jealousy! sorry for the confusion <3

tags : light choking, thigh smacking, jealous sylus, porn w no plot, oral sex (reader receiving), raw sex, rough sex, yeah....

The room was stifling — not from heat, but from tension. Laughter rang out, glasses clinked, and a hundred dignitaries buzzed with small talk beneath golden chandeliers. You stood near the bar, dress hugging your frame just right, heels biting into the polished floor. You’d worn this to be taken seriously.

But the man beside you had other ideas.

A diplomat. Polished smile. Lazy eyes that kept dropping to your chest like it was a conversational cue. He was leaning closer now, voice a little lower, fingers brushing your arm as if it were casual.

It wasn’t.

You didn’t recoil. That would draw attention. Instead, you gave a tight smile and angled your body just enough to distance yourself — not enough to cause a scene, but enough that he would notice.

And he did.

Across the room, you could feel Sylus’s gaze like a hot wire threading through your spine.

He stood near the edge of the crowd, drink untouched in his hand, suit tailored so sharply it cut. His expression was unreadable — not angry, not even annoyed. Just… focused. Like a predator watching someone else circle his territory.

You turned back to the diplomat and forced a laugh at some forgettable joke. But your attention was split — half on this conversation, the other locked onto the man across the room whose patience was starting to burn.

When the diplomat finally excused himself, you exhaled. And then Sylus was there.

Not a second later. Not two.

“I thought you were working,” he murmured, voice low and calm, but loaded.

“I was.” You tilted your head, studying him. “Didn’t realize conversation counted as betrayal now.”

“He was flirting.”

“Barely.”

“He wanted to fuck you.”

Your breath hitched — not at the words, but at the cold certainty behind them. Sylus’s voice didn’t rise. He didn’t look flustered or possessive in the way other men might. No, he was composed. Still. Like someone who already knew he owned the battlefield.

And the way he was looking at you now?

Like he owned you, too.

“You’re imagining things,” you said — a challenge, not a denial.

His lips curled. Not a smile. A warning.

“Come with me.”

You didn’t ask where.

Didn’t need to.

He led you down one of the quieter halls — away from the glittering noise, past locked doors and diplomatic signage. The second he found a private room — lights low, a lounge clearly reserved for someone far above your paygrade — he keyed it open and pulled you inside.

The door hissed shut behind you.

Silence.

You turned to face him, but he was already on you.

One hand gripped your jaw, tilting your face up, and the other flattened over your lower back, pulling you flush against him.

“You want to let men like that flirt with you?” he murmured, voice quiet but sharp as broken glass. “Then look at me when they do it.”

You gasped as his mouth crashed into yours — hard, punishing, furious. The kiss tasted like jealousy and unspoken obsession. Like everything he’d been holding back since the moment the diplomat touched you.

His hand slid from your jaw to your throat — not choking, not quite — but firm enough to own. You whimpered into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound greedily.

“You think I’ll just stand there while someone else imagines how you sound when you come?” he rasped, voice like smoke. “Not a fucking chance.”

You didn’t get a chance to answer.

He spun you, pressing your back to the wall, grinding his hips into yours so you felt just how hard he was. Every line of his body screamed restraint — but it was unraveling fast.

“Sylus—”

“You’re mine,” he growled, mouth against your ear, one hand trailing down your side, over the swell of your ass. “Say it.”

You swallowed, breathing fast. “I’m yours.”

His teeth grazed your shoulder, not gently.

And then he was everywhere, hands pushing up your dress, lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck as he shoved your panties aside. His fingers brushed through your folds, and he hissed.

“Dripping for me,” he muttered, smirking against your throat. “You like it when I get like this.”

You gasped as he slid two fingers inside you — thick, deep, curling just right. You bucked into his hand, shameless already, grinding against him.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Be greedy for it. I want to feel how bad you need me.”

You moaned, breath stuttering as his thumb found your clit and started tight, perfect circles. The pressure built fast, too fast, your thighs shaking, your voice caught in your throat.

But then he stopped.

You whined, frustrated — hips jerking forward, chasing friction.

He chuckled darkly, lips brushing your ear. “Not yet. You don’t get to come until you mean it.”

“Mean what?” you panted, eyes wild.

“That you’re mine.” He reached around and unzipped his pants, dragging his cock against your slick heat teasingly. “All the way. Not just when it feels good.”

You looked back at him — flushed, half-dazed, aching. “I’m yours, Sylus.”

His eyes blazed.

And then he was inside you.

One hard thrust — deep, brutal — and your mouth fell open in a silent scream. He didn’t give you time to adjust. Just pulled out and slammed in again, setting a pace that was fast, relentless, perfect.

You braced against the wall, moaning, gasping, crying out his name as he pounded into you — thick and heavy and everywhere.

“That’s it,” he growled, voice low and vicious. “Let them hear you. Let them all fucking hear how good I fuck what’s mine.”

You shattered.

No warning, no buildup — just white heat and pleasure so sharp it tore a scream from your throat. You clenched around him, whole body convulsing, and Sylus groaned, slamming in harder, deeper, his rhythm breaking.

“Gonna fill you up,” he rasped. “Gonna mark you from the inside out.”

You moaned his name, and he followed — hips grinding deep as he came, hot and thick inside you, holding you so tight you thought he might bruise your hips.

You were still gasping when he pulled out of you, slow, deliberate — and the heat of him spilled down your thigh, warm and obscene.

You tried to catch your breath, head falling back against the wall, but Sylus didn’t move away. Didn’t even give you space to think.

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, breath ragged. His voice was quieter now, rough around the edges. “I should stop.”

You blinked, dazed. “Then why haven’t you?”

He smirked.

Because you both knew the answer.

He gripped your jaw, angling your face toward his. “You let him touch your arm,” he murmured, like he was still tasting that fact on his tongue. “Let him lean in. You smiled for him.”

Your chest rose and fell — fast, desperate. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“Then you won’t mind if I fuck you until it does.”

That growl in his voice made your pussy clench all over again.

Without warning, he dropped to his knees in front of you, hands dragging your thighs apart, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave marks. He looked up once, green eyes stormy with hunger.

Then he devoured you.

Not gentle. Not teasing. His mouth was wet heat and filthy precision, tongue flicking and circling your clit with sharp, relentless purpose. You cried out, hips jerking, trying to squirm away from the overstimulation, but his grip on your thighs tightened, holding you in place like a man possessed.

“You don’t get to run,” he muttered between licks, voice vibrating straight through your cunt. “Not from this. Not from me.”

You were already so raw, every nerve electric, and now he was dragging you back up the edge — fast, merciless. You were moaning like a damn prayer, head thrown back, hands in his hair, thighs shaking around his head.

He sucked your clit hard, once, twice — and you came again with a sob, pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain. Your knees nearly buckled, but he caught you, hands firm under your thighs as he kept eating you through it.

“Fuck—Sylus—sensitive, I can’t—”

“Yes,” he growled, standing again, towering over you now, voice harsh and hungry. “You can. You will.”

He shoved his pants lower again, cock already hard, again, and this time, he didn’t even bother positioning you.

He manhandled you onto the nearest velvet lounge, pulled your legs open wide, and slid back inside with one brutal thrust that made you scream.

No warm-up. No restraint.

Just raw, unforgiving heat.

He fucked you like he needed to ruin you, like nothing short of breaking you open would be enough to satisfy the jealousy still burning under his skin. His grip bruised your hips, his pace punishing, deep, his pelvis grinding against your overstimulated clit with every stroke.

“You’re mine,” he snarled, eyes locked on yours, sweat slick on his brow. “Say it again. Scream it.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped, head falling back.

“Louder.”

You cried out, voice cracking. “I’m yours, Sylus—fuck, I’m yours!”

He slapped your thigh — not hard, just enough to make you jolt. “Don’t you forget it.”

You were close again, ridiculously fast — his cock hitting every perfect spot, his hand reaching down to rub your clit again despite the tears pricking at your eyes from the intensity.

“Come on my cock,” he demanded, voice a low snarl. “One more. I want to feel you break.”

You shattered.

Your whole body bowed off the lounge, legs locking around him as your orgasm slammed through you — harder than the last, deep and full and wrecking. Your vision blurred. You sobbed his name.

He groaned like a man unhinged and slammed into you once, twice, deep — then came with a guttural sound, hips grinding into you, his seed spilling inside you for the second time. Hot. Heavy. Claiming.

But he didn’t move.

Didn’t pull out.

Just stayed inside you, panting hard against your neck, arms around you like he needed to anchor himself.

You were both trembling, breathless.

“I need you to know something,” he whispered against your skin, voice quieter now, but still sharp. “That I will not share. Not even your attention. Not your smile. Not a fucking glance.”

You turned your face toward his, blinking through the heat and fog. “Then keep reminding me like this.”

His lips brushed yours.

“I will.”

masterlist

taglist : @etsuniiru @kyokoyya @i-messed-up-big-time @firefly1103 @gracekerzzz @mcdepressed290 @sylusgirlie7 @plzdonutpercieveme @m00nchildwrites

[grimmsbride]

✶ ℘ EASY GOING DOWN ╲ rex sloan.

₊ཾִ ᖫྀ ⁣⁣. ⠀⎯ summary rex was trying to be better, to a new and improved man and superhero. slowly growing himself, the man turns to you in hopes of learning one, very important thing; how to get better at oral sex..

₊ཾִ ᖫྀ ⁣⁣. ⠀⎯ tags rex is ooc (i’ve never written for him before) | oral sex | past mentions of rex being a selfish lover/person | eve mention (love her) | porn with no plot | porn with complicated feelings | fingering | pet names (mama, baby) | again rex is ooc i’m sorry 😭 | uhh that’s it

₊ཾִ ᖫྀ ⁣⁣. ⠀⎯ notes i asked for requests and then literally went on vacation i’m sorry 😭😭, i’m slowly trying to get through them (though this wasn’t a request just something i wanted to write) so please bare with me and thank you for your patience. as always please excuse any mistakes, and pls enjoy

“Rex, are you fucking serious?”

“Can you give me a minute to warm u—“

“Warm up?!” You huffed loudly, quickly sitting up from your laying position. Your eyes bore into the man between your legs, spotting the way he so stupidly sat there with his tongue partially past his lips, eyebrows furrowed a little in annoyance.

The situation was odd in the simplest terms, weird at worst. Currently you found yourself in nothing but a tshirt, completely bare from the waist down whilst your close friend Rex Splode was at his knees towards the edge of the bed, attempting to eat you out.

It was no secret Rex was selfish at times; a dickhead, cheater, just a boundless amount of certain emotions wrapped into one. But luckily, he was trying to change, trying to outgrow the old Rex Sloan into a person worth being around.

And well, one of those steps was learning how to be.. less selfish during sex.

That’s where you came in. Given the two of you were pretty close — and pretty platonic, up until this point — Rex was able to come to you about his personal dilemma, practically begging to practice on you with the promise of buying you whatever you wanted; no matter the price.

It took a moment for you to give in, but something about that pretty face screwed up into a begging pout was enough. And it couldn’t be that bad, right?

Except, the man has done nothing spectacular since he started. He avoided your clit like the plague, did nothing special with his tongue, and nearly bruised your walls with the unnecessary speed of his fingers.

You flopped back onto your bed, groaning softly. “Warm up..” You repeated in soft disbelief, leaning to rest your cheek against the blankets.

“— no wonder Eve dropped your sorry a— OW!”

You shot up once again, glaring daggers at the man, “You did not just fucking bite my thigh.”

“Serves you right.” Rex grumbled, though rubbing his thumb across the bite mark as if to soothe you. He leaned his cheek against your opposite thigh, eyes trailing to focus on your face.

“Just tell me what to do. That was the entire point of me coming to you.”

Your gaze trailed back to the man, silent for a few moments before releasing a little sigh. You shouldn’t be too hard on him, despite how silly the situation seemed, this was Rex’s odd way of being better. In his own, little, very odd way.

“Well first..” You begun, adjusting your hips to catch his attention. Your legs slid open a little wider, gliding your fingers across your thighs. “Don’t immediately jump to fingers, use your tongue— you’re supposed to warm the girl up.”

Rex was quick to obey your instructions, hands finding your thighs whilst leaning closer. His tongue slowly slid out from his mouth, gliding across your folds, the tip parting them to drag against your little bud. The act was experimental, Rex clearly taking your words to heart; something you found quite cute in the moment.

Resident douche bag Rex Sloan sitting here so patiently and sweetly, eyes on you and eyebrows lifted as he awaited your next request.

Your hand rose, finding a strand from his loose bun, curling it around your finger.

“Keep doing that, focus on my clit too..” Your voice trailed the moment he gave you another lick, dragging the fat of his tongue along your slick cunt. Soft squelches begun to rise in the air as he continued, his shallow breathing fanning against you with each moment that passed.

Unlike before, Rex didn’t rush, throughly taking his time in pleasuring your body. The complete 180 had you reacting much more positively then before, sinking into the bed as the pleasure bloomed from little sparks to strikes down your spine the moment his lips wrapped around your clit.

You couldn’t help the way your thighs jolted, threatening to squeeze his head into place. Large hands spread along your warm skin, carefully taking your thighs into his palms and keeping them steady and wide.

“Shiiiit...” Your voice dragged, taking your shirt in your hands for a gentle grip. Gentle was his lips and tongue, circulating your little bud swollen, sucking even softer— your arousal pooled from within down to your taint.

A growing mess that Rex was slowly getting proud of.

His eyes dragged up your body to your face, noticing the way your eyelids rested low on your eyes, lips parted as a mix of soft breathing and quiet moans escaped. Rex’s hand adjusted, allowing his thumb to rub little circles along your labia, slowly removing his lips from your swollen button with a soft pop.

“Looks like I’m actually doing something right, huh?”

It was just like him to tease you at a time like this, lips slick with your mess and his saliva curled into the most devious little smile.

Your eyebrows pushed close, mouth opening a little wider to tell him off, only for the man to lean back down to your clit, returning to his previous ministrations.

“What’s the next step, baby?”

The words were muttered right into your wetness, eyes completely focused on your face and awaiting your command.

Your stomach was clenching into knots, hand moving over to his hair to hold instead of your own shirt.

“Just… ke—keep doing that..” You whined loudly the moment his teeth ever so gently dragged across your clit, a swear escaping you in the process.

His confidence was thriving at this point, and something else as well…. Rex Sloan didn’t put much thought into coming to you, none at all, actually. In his mind, it was nothing more than a friend teaching another how to beat a level to a game.

Nothing more right?

Except, here Rex was with his mouth right on your pretty cunt, feeling his dick twitch with every moan that escaped you. And it sure didn’t help every so often the sweetest Rex, would escape your throat; soft, as if you didn’t want him to hear at all.

That simple conclusion caused just a pinch of annoyance.

A hand of Rex’s moved, two fingers being dragged against your wet slit for a couple seconds before they slowly pushed into your fluttering hole. The man watched you carefully, watching as your eyes shut, a groan escaping your throat.

And with a single curl of his fingers, Rex was getting exactly what he wants.

“Rex, fuck!” You cried out, quick whines soon following. Your legs shook and twitched, you were trying so desperately not to crush his head but as he started to thrust his fingers; pushing at your velvety walls in slick squelches, your will was draining slowly.

You slowly sat up, leaning onto your hands and glancing down at the man with glossy eyes.

“Y—you’re good now.. you do—“ Your teeth dragged across your bottom lip, attempting to shake off the pleasure to get through your sentence. The man wasn’t even focused on you, his fingers and mouth continuing to ruin you utterly and completely. You rested on a single hand, reaching down with the other to uselessly push at his forehead.

“— don’t.. have to finish. Fu—fuck, Rex!”

The pads of his fingers were striking that little spongy spot with each thrust, thick appendages scissoring inside, rubbing against your walls so deliciously you were seeing the back of your skull and stars in one fell swoop. Your words were falling on deaf ears, or rather— ears that couldn’t give that much of damn.

Rex was quick to raise his freehand, pressing it against your stomach and effectively pushing you back to your mattress. You squirmed for a moment before quickly realizing the man didn’t work out for nothing, given he kept you seated completely without even trying.

“C—can’t take.. it, Rex— fuck!”

For the first time in a while Rex was moving away, even if just an inch — bated breath fanning across your cunt — as he released a simple;

“C’mon mama.. let me finish. I can’t half-ass end my lesson without at least getting a grade.”

You wanted to kick him, slap, everything— basically hearing that cocky grin dripping from every word. Instead you could only gasp, feeling him latch his mouth right back to your little button with much more vigor then before, little tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

With both hands you were tugging at his hair, ruining his bun as brown strands tickled your heated skin. Coupled with this, your hips lifted off the bed, driving your pussy right into your face as desperation collected right at the pit of your tummy.

Rex couldn’t help but groan into your wet sex, muttering a soft Fuck my face, [Name] right into you, the vibrations of his words just adding to the already overwhelming pleasure.

You felt that band coming quickly, threatening to pop the longer time went on. And with how hard you were clenching, you knew your end would be intense.

Rex was quick to mutter soft encouragements right into you the moment he noticed how harshly you were clenching, sucking in his fingers so much as if you didn’t wish to let go. The man couldn’t help but grunt the moment the hold on his hair tightened, cock straining at his pants, him wondering if he could come untouched— off your tastes alone.

His name escaped you in one final pleasure filled bellow, coming all over his face and practically locking him into place with your legs. Rex didn’t seem to mind, licking you up, helping you ride out your orgasm perfectly.

Your legs shook from the aftershocks, stomach on fire as you fell back onto your mattress, legs loosening as you breathed. Between soft breaths and strokes of his hair you attempted to calm down, eyes closed and sinking into your mattress.

Only to realize Rex had not stopped once, continuing to lick at your messy cunt, not wasting a single drop of your arousal.

With a loud groan, and much rougher then you intended you were tugging at his hair, lifting him from between your thighs.

“You have to let me catch my breath, Rex!” You huffed out, moving your hips a bit the moment he pulled his fingers out.

Your eyes narrowed at the smile crossing his soaked face, absolutely hating the way he looked downright sexy with messy hair and your essence all over his skin.

“Then hurry up and catch your breath.. I still got a couple of lessons I need help with.”

Your eyes widened, releasing his hair in slight shock as you basically tossed yourself back onto your mattress.

“Five.. minutes.”

[dior-luxury]

i JUST saw your reverse kiss and make out fic and i LOVE THEM is it okay for you to do the same for the rest of the cast plssss 💖

Kiss And Makeout *FLIPPED

( ✧ ) ────── parent stories . fluff - gn!reader .

- [𝐜𝐡.] riddle . ace . deuce . jamil . idia . silver

- [𝐩:𝐬] ~Fluff with a Dash of Heat . Emotional Comfort . Bad Day Comfort (for Riddle, Deuce, Silver, Jamil) . Impulsive Behavior (Ace, Idia, Jamil) . Suggestive Themes . Kissing . Emotional Vulnerability . Anxiety/Insecurity Mention . Possessive Behavior . Flustered/Desperate Behavior . Unexpected Boldness .

Note: I think you guys want me to make a second part... but I don't know 🤭. Alright, your guys' wishes have come true! Here is part two!!! (≧◡≦) ♡ Hope you guys enjoy it like the first one~

Riddle Rosehearts

It had been one of those days. Riddle had been holding it together by the finest thread of willpower and discipline. His prefect duties had dragged longer than expected, a few underclassmen had dared to ignore the Queen’s Law No. 89 about corridor traffic flow, and worst of all, someone spilled rose jam on one of the unbirthday party table linens.

By the time you found him pacing the Rose Garden, cheeks flushed with frustration and lips pressed into a hard line, he was seconds from snapping.

“Riddle,” you called softly.

His head snapped toward you. That stern expression flickered just for a moment. “I don’t have time—”

You took a step closer. “You’re pushing yourself too hard.”

And that did it. Something broke.

Without a word, he grabbed your hand—firm, but not rough—and began walking. You barely had time to react as he led you down the corridor, past classrooms, past portraits whose eyes seemed far too nosey, and toward a supply closet tucked away behind the alchemy wing. The moment the door shut behind you, he turned the lock with a soft click.

You barely had time to question before he pinned you gently but with urgency against the shelf-lined wall. His eyes flickered with something between anger and desire.

“I need this,” he breathed, his voice strained. “You.”

He kissed you like he was trying to drown out the world. No rules. No order. Just the rush of lips on lips, and the way his hands found your waist like he was anchoring himself. Riddle wasn’t usually this desperate—not this untethered—but when your fingers tangled into his hair and you kissed him back just as fiercely, a low, almost uncharacteristic noise escaped from his throat.

One of the brooms clattered from the shelf beside you, but neither of you paid it any mind.

Minutes felt like moments. He eventually pulled back, forehead pressed to yours, breath shallow. His usually perfect uniform was wrinkled, his collar askew, hair a mess.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “That was… unbecoming.”

But you smiled, brushing a thumb over the pink hue of his cheek. “It was perfect.”

His eyes softened. “Only you can calm me like this.”

Ace Trappola

Ace had been flirting with you all day. That cocky smirk, the sly touches when no one was looking, the way he leaned way too close during lunch and whispered, “You’re making it real hard to focus, y’know.”

You’d rolled your eyes. “You never focus anyway.”

“Yeah, but now I have a good excuse.”

He’d been plotting this. You could tell by the glint in his eye—Ace wasn’t exactly subtle. So when you walked past an empty classroom on your way to your dorm and felt someone tug you by the wrist and yank you inside, it wasn’t a surprise. Not really. What was surprising was just how fast he shut the door, turned the lock, and kissed you like he hadn’t seen you in months.

“Missed you,” he mumbled between kisses, pressing you back against a desk. “Even though I literally saw you like an hour ago.”

You laughed, breath hitching as he nipped at your bottom lip. “You’re such a idiot.”

“Yeah, but I’m your idiot.” His grin turned into another kiss, deeper this time, his hands sliding along your hips like he couldn’t get close enough.

He tasted like cinnamon gum and just a little trouble.

One of his hands slid under your blazer, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt while his other hand cupped your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek as he tilted your head to kiss you better. He kissed like a tease—playful, slow, then suddenly intense enough to leave you dizzy.

“You drive me crazy, y’know that?” he whispered against your lips. “Been thinking about this all day. Like, do you try to distract me or are you just naturally irresistible?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, pulling him in for another kiss.

He did. But not without a smug little chuckle rumbling in his chest.

Eventually, when the risk of someone catching you got just a little too real, Ace pulled back, panting and flushed. He grinned down at you, wiping a smudge of gloss from your lip with his thumb.

“We should probably go before Crowley shows up and gives me detention again.”

You smirked. “Worth it?”

“Hell yeah.”

Deuce Spade

Deuce tried. He really did. He studied for the test. He kept his nose clean. He even avoided Ace’s latest dumb scheme. But the world had other plans.

Professor Vargas announced a surprise pop quiz—on a unit they barely covered. Then a potion exploded in his face during lab. And just when he thought he could walk it off, he overheard a couple of older students talking about how “guys like him never amount to anything.”

By the time you found him hunched on a bench outside the classroom building, he wasn’t saying much. Just… clenching his fists like he was one second from punching the sky.

“Deuce,” you said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He looked up, and for a second, his tough-guy mask cracked. His eyes were red. From smoke? Anger? You weren’t sure.

“I—I’m fine,” he said quickly. Too quickly. “I just—needed air. It’s dumb.”

You crouched in front of him. “What happened?”

And that did it. The floodgates opened.

He told you everything—rushed and frustrated, hands flailing as he vented. “I try so hard, but it’s like… one thing goes wrong and suddenly I’m that guy again. The delinquent. The screw-up. No one thinks I’ll ever change.”

You grabbed his hand. “I do.”

That’s when his expression shifted. Like you’d said the one thing he didn’t realize he needed to hear. And without another word, he stood up, pulled you to your feet, and led you quickly—not even glancing around—into the nearest empty classroom.

The door barely shut before he turned around, eyes stormy and locked on you.

“I… I just—can I—?”

You didn’t wait for him to finish. You kissed him.

At first, it was soft. A tentative press of lips, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed this comfort. But when you wrapped your arms around him, pulled him closer, he melted. Like all the tension had been clinging to his muscles and finally let go.

His hands found your back, sliding up slowly, as if grounding himself. He kissed you like it meant something. Like it saved him.

“I’m really lucky,” he murmured, forehead against yours. “To have you. To have… this.”

You smiled, brushing hair from his face. “And I’ll always be here to remind you—you’re not that guy anymore.”

“Not with you around,” he whispered, kissing you again—deeper this time, slower. More sure.

Jamil Viper

Jamil had been quiet all day. Too quiet.

You’d noticed it during lunch. The way he stirred his food absently, how his gaze lingered on the horizon, thoughtful and dark. Kalim had been extra excitable, and Jamil had worn that polite mask of patience, but you could tell—he was simmering underneath.

So when you caught his eye across the courtyard later, that gaze wasn’t passive anymore. It was intense. Hungry.

And when he wordlessly gestured for you to follow him, something electric sparked in your chest.

You didn’t ask where he was going. You just trailed behind him as he glided through the halls, silent but purposeful, until he reached a storage closet near the gymnasium. He opened the door, looked back at you with something unreadable, and when you stepped inside, the door shut behind you.

The dim space felt thick with heat.

“Bad day?” you asked quietly.

Jamil didn’t answer.

He pressed you back against the door so fast your breath caught. His lips were on yours a heartbeat later—silencing any thoughts you might’ve had with a kiss that was slow, dangerous, and completely intoxicating.

“I needed something,” he whispered between kisses, voice low and smooth like velvet over a blade. “Something that’s mine.”

His hands were steady, but his kiss was anything but. He kissed you like he was unraveling. Like all the things he had to hide and control every day had finally broken the surface. His body caged yours in, not out of aggression, but out of sheer desperation to feel something real—you.

You could feel the tension radiating off him. He touched you like he didn’t trust himself to go further, but couldn’t stop. One hand braced above your head, the other gripping your waist as if letting go meant returning to that carefully curated mask he wore every day.

“You always make me feel like I don’t have to keep pretending,” he murmured into your neck. “Like I can just be.”

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, whispering into the curve of his jaw. “Then don’t pretend right now. Just be here.”

He kissed you again, slower this time—full of gratitude and longing. His breathing slowed, his forehead pressed against yours.

“I should get back,” he muttered reluctantly. “Kalim’ll start searching if I’m gone too long.”

You smiled, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear. “Then let him look. Just a little longer?”

Jamil exhaled a quiet laugh, a rare, genuine sound.

“Yeah… just a little longer.”

Idia Shroud

Idia had been spiraling all morning.

The new project in Ignihyde Lab glitched hard, Ortho almost got accidentally reprogrammed, and to top it off, he overheard some random students talking about you—how “someone like you” was wasting time on a shut-in like him. That shouldn’t have mattered. But it got under his skin. It festered.

He spent the next two hours in a haze, typing too hard, muttering under his breath, eyes flicking to his tablet screen like your name might just pop up and make him feel okay again.

Then he saw you walking toward the main building. And instead of retreating like he usually would, Idia stood up, ran a hand through his electric-blue hair, muttered a string of curses about how this was “like, peak out-of-character behavior,” and bolted to intercept you.

“Whoa—Idia?” you blinked as he practically teleported in front of you. His hair glitched from neon blue to a deep pink.

“I—uh—I need you. I mean—not like that! I mean yes, like that, but—just—come with me before I short-circuit or die or implode—whatever happens first.”

You could barely laugh before he’d grabbed your wrist, nervously leading you through the winding back halls of the science wing. Your heart pounded with curiosity and adrenaline. And when he stopped in front of a rarely used equipment storage room, unlocked it with trembling fingers, and stepped inside with you—oh. You knew what this was.

The second the door shut behind you, he turned to face you. Pink light flickered wildly in his hair.

“I-I don’t know how to do this kind of thing,” he admitted, words rushed. “But I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day and I feel like my brain’s doing that ‘blue screen of death’ thing because—holy crap—look at you.”

He hesitated. But you stepped closer, brushed your hand over his hoodie-clad chest, and smiled.

“Then stop thinking.”

That was all he needed.

He kissed you like he was afraid he’d glitch right through you. Soft at first—shy, hesitant, stuttering against your lips like a program still loading—but then something changed. His hand slid around your waist, and he groaned softly against your mouth as he leaned in, lips parting with yours like he’d forgotten everything but this moment.

The taste of cola from his favorite energy drink lingered faintly on his tongue. His other hand came up to cup your cheek, surprisingly warm despite how jittery he was, and he tilted your head like he was learning how to really kiss you.

“Is this okay?” he whispered, breathless.

“It’s perfect,” you murmured, brushing your nose against his.

He smiled—a real one. Soft. Rare. Beautiful.

“Achievement unlocked: Most Unbelievable Moment Ever.”

Silver

Silver usually wore serenity like a second skin—calm, gentle, a touch sleepy. But sometimes, sometimes, something inside him cracked through that dreamy exterior. Especially when he was exhausted, emotional… or desperate for you.

You noticed it after a long, grueling day of training with Lilia. Silver had taken on too much—again. You caught him nodding off in the garden, sword still in hand, posture rigid even in sleep. When you knelt beside him and gently touched his shoulder, his eyes snapped open—cloudy, tired, but focused on you.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice rough. “Come with me.”

You barely had time to respond before he stood, took your hand, and started leading you. His fingers were warm but firm. There was something off—different. Not bad. Just… intense.

“Silver?” you asked softly.

“I had a dream,” he murmured. “You were in it. And when I woke up, you were here. And I… couldn’t tell if it was still a dream.”

The hallway was quiet. He led you into an unused classroom, probably one of the knight training theory rooms, filled with old armor and worn-down desks. He locked the door behind him.

Then he turned to you, his eyes darkened with exhaustion and longing.

“Let me stay here a while,” he whispered. “With you. Like in the dream.”

Before you could reply, his lips were on yours—slow, deep, full of emotion. It wasn’t rushed. It was aching. Like every part of him had been waiting for this. His hands were gentle as they cupped your waist, pulling you flush against him, and he kissed you like someone who dreamed of this moment too many times to waste it now.

His breath hitched when you kissed him back, and his hand slid up your back, burying into your hair, holding you there like he needed to make sure you were real.

“I’m always slipping between sleep and wake,” he murmured into your skin. “But this? This is the clearest I’ve felt all day.”

You felt your heart squeeze at the quiet vulnerability in his voice. His forehead rested against yours, and you swore you saw the faintest smile curve his lips.

“If this is a dream,” he added, eyes fluttering shut, “don’t wake me up.”

[rainydayathogwarts]

Off limits - Remus Lupin

summary: remus can't help but liking the one person who's off limits, but it seems like they him too. find pt2 idk what my problem is with remus and any marauder sibling reader but it seems to be a recurring theme on this blog. wc: 1.8k+

The soft click of your heels on the ground is drowned by your laughs. You and Narcissa walk down the hallway, arms linked together, neither of you in any rush to make it to your next class in time. Remus can’t help but stare at you from where he and the marauders are jammed in a corner, plotting their next prank on Professor Binns in an attempt to make his lessons a little more interesting. Sirius follows his line of vision and says “Oh they think they’re so much better than the rest of us, these two.” He huffs, adding in a mocking, and slightly envious tone “The perfect Black cousins. Married by twenty and successful without working a day in their lives.”

Right. There was the fact that you were Sirius’s sister that always managed to slightly influence his opinions of you. Similarly to Sirius, you had an inexplicable elegance to you, with your head held high and an ego that was excused by your intelligence.

Remus sighed, watching as you disappeared behind the corner of the hallway, a last flash of your smile catching his eye before he lost sight of you. “Right.” He scoffed, turning his gaze towards Sirius. He internally cringed. There was nothing Remus could say or do that would ever make Sirius forgive him for liking his ever-praised sister, so he kept his thought to himself. Call it the halo effect, but Remus was convinced that you were a good person, despite being a Slytherin who seemed to get along with her evil parents. James clapped Remus on the shoulder as he got up, a sign of the boys leaving to their classes. 

When Remus slipped through the door to the potions classroom, his eyes instantly landed on you and the empty seat beside you. His seat. Wordlessly, he sat by you, just in time for Slughorn to enter the room. Your posture made Remus insecure of his own, instantly straightening his back and catching view of your legs swinging slowly underneath the tall stool. Slughorn’s boring drawl nearly lulled him to sleep, and he was ecstatic to find that you shared the same opinion, opening your notebook and quill to begin scrawling words over a blank page. Remus looked over your shoulder, watching as you took your time to write neat letters that formed the phrase 'Could not care less what sluggy has to say.' Remus didn’t care that anyone could tell he was reading your note to Narcissa, an amused smile forming on his face.

Narcissa returned your notebook with a short new sentence added to it. 'Sameee. Hogsmeade after?' Shutting your notebook, you  nodded curtly at your cousin, sighing silently. He understood where Sirius was coming from. You and Narcissa didn’t only share your perfect reputation within the pureblood community, but around Hogwarts too. When Slughorn passed around your graded papers, he even smiled at you, and Remus couldn’t even be angry at the favouritism because he knew he felt the same. The ‘Outstanding!’ on your paper shone in red ink that could be seen from the other side of the room. Remus wasn’t surprised when he saw the matching grade his paper held, but it seemed impressive when you did it. 

You glanced at your neighbour’s paper, angling your head slightly and shooting Remus a smile in congratulations. Remus gulped, feeling his heart beat particularly hard in his chest, and he was barely able to return a grimace before you turned away. Shit, Sirius would hate him right now. 

At Hogsmeade, you and Narcissa giggled over a butterbeer about your crush on the forbidden boy, your cheeks gaining heat with every passing thought about him. “He’s Sirius’s best friend, he's off limits.” Narcissa shrugged her shoulders at you, mumbling something incoherent into the rim of her butterbeer. “And even so!” You started again, “Salazar knows Sirius has probably spoken so badly about me to him that he wouldn’t be able to look at me that way.” Narcissa’s eyes widened in front of you, and you spun in your seat to see what she was staring at. There he was, in full glory, walking into the Three Broomsticks on a Wednesday afternoon, Remus Lupin. “Coincidence? I think not.” Your cousin whispered to you, watching in amusement at the way you fixed your posture and hair in a quick second before shooting Remus a smile from where you sat.

Sirius squinted at you from the entryway of the pub, facing his best friend and asking “Why the hell is my sister smiling at you?” Remus made a noise, shrugging his shoulders in mock cluelessness. “What is she up to?” Sirius added, glaring at you when you waved at him with a smile. Whether it was genuine or not, it didn’t matter; Sirius would forever hate you for abiding by your parents’ rules. 

You faced Narcissa once more, muttering “Did they look away yet?” And waiting for the nod of her head, eyes trained on Sirius as he walked to the bar, returning his unforgiving stare. You slumped against the table with a groan. “See what I mean?” The unsure hum from in front of you had your head snapping up once more, raising your eyebrows at the blonde woman. “What does that mean?” Narcissa cocked her head to the side, a grin forming on her face. “You think tall Mr. Lupin can’t see what you’re writing down in class? He’s definitely the one who suggested coming here.” When you shot Narcissa an unimpressed look, she added in a sing-song voice “Because he likes you!” You rolled your eyes, leaning on your arms again. “Don’t feed into my delusions.” 

You and Narcissa stood up in unison, making a beeline for the pub’s exit when you came face to face with your brother. He and his friends were all carrying a bottle of the famous drink. A quick in and out of the cozy pub. Sirius didn’t tear his gaze off you for a single second as you scanned the group of people he was with, and finally, you said “What, are you stalking me or something?” 

Your brother sneered at you, and the expression on his face instantly sent a painful pang to your chest. “Don’t flatter yourself. We wouldn’t be here if Remus didn’t suggest a trip down here.” Narcissa’s pleasantly surprised giggle communicated all the emotions you felt in that moment, and you let a smile creep up your face at the revelation, glancing at the boy stood next to your brother. His cheeks had turned rosy: he knew that you knew what he did. Your brother didn’t seem happy with the look on your face, and especially not with the next sentence that came out of your mouth. “Yeah? Well, I’ll see you around Lupin.” You winked at the chestnut haired boy before spinning on the balls of your feet and walking out into the fresh air with Narcissa on your heels. There was no need to witness the interaction that took place behind you to know that Sirius was angry, pointing an accusatory finger at Remus as he questioned him about your relationship, or lack thereof. “Don’t fall for her tricks Remus, she’s just trying to get to me!” Sirius had stressed after Remus had assured him that he had no idea what you meant. What Sirius didn’t notice was the way Remus’s face had fell at his comment, all hope of your potential feelings towards him falling apart.

‘Well, I’ll see you around Lupin’ Your melodic voice echoed through Remus’s mind as he followed Sirius and James, a few steps behind the pair whilst thinking of the smile you had shot him. The same sentence resonated in Remus’s mind as he laid in bed that same night, causing him to toss and turn within the confines of his four-poster bed, tightly shutting his eyes in a weak attempt to eliminate your siren song from restlessly repeated itself. Remus groaned, sitting up in bed and shoving the curtain of his bed open, sliding his feet into warm slippers at the bottom of his bed, letting his legs guide him down the the staircase and out of the common room, into the darkness of the deserted hallways oh Hogwarts. It wasn’t long until Remus found himself in uncharted territory, that of which he only visited when attending his potions lessons. Remus cursed himself out, spinning around in the vast hallways. He barely recognised this side of Hogwarts in the dead of night.

An amused hum had Remus reeling around towards the sound, a scared expression on his face. He should have just tried harder to sleep, tried harder to ignore your captivating song, dragging him to an unknown side of the castle. Your laugh resonated in the hallway, and Remus turned once more, this time stopping to find himself face to face with you. Remus gulped harshly, eyes locked with yours from where you hunted him like a prey from the other end of the hallway.  “Remus Lupin. In the land of the enemy.” Remus’s mouth dropped open with an inaudible gasp as he took in your nighttime attire. Your joggers and tank top paired with your bare face and animal themed slippers contrasted widely with your regular appearance, though you didn’t seem to care what you looked like in front of your brother’s best friend. Your hands were crossed over your chest, a genuine smile on your face at the sight of the tired boy. Silently, the boy walked towards you, stopping only when he was a couple of feet from you.

“Mr. Lupin. Or should I call you my secret admirer?” Remus blinked slowly, and for a moment you feared that he would fall asleep on the spot, but with a slow rub of his fists against his eyes, Remus mumbled shyly “I didn’t know it was that obvious.” You stepped forward, reaching out to grasp Remus’s jumper, the soft fabric lacing between your fingers, and you tugged softly, pulling him closer to you until your chests touched. “Kiss me Remus.” You begged, hand closing into a fist on his jumper. With his hands trailing to your hips, Remus fulfilled your request, leaning down to press his chapped lips against your soft ones. With a quiet moan of satisfaction, you brought your second hand up to grip his jumper, trying to use your grip to pull him closer to you. Remus broke the kiss with a sigh, leaning his forehead against yours with his eyes shut, a mix of his joy and sleepiness.

You brought your hands to the nape of Remus’s neck, playing with his short hair and sending a shiver down his spine.

“Remus?” You asked, and Remus replied with a noise of acknowledgment. “Remus?” Remus furrowed his eyebrows, eyes shooting open just as he heard a last call of his name. “Remus!” The boy gasped, sitting up straight only to find himself in his bed, a frustrated Sirius standing on the side of his bed, mumbling something about being late to class. The sun shot beautiful golden rays into the room, a reminder of the new day that had come. Tiredly, Remus thought ‘Why did it have to be this sibling I woke up next to?’ 

[neferaskingdom]

♡ You're Doing Amazing Sweetie | MV1

NEFERASKINGDOM

Summary: George finds out and the only thing Y/n can do is hide and pray that George doesn't take out Max on track.

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

Y/n paces anxiously near the monitors while Charles and Lando loiter as if they had all the time in the world. Charles had his arms crossed, his race suit tied around his waist, and Lando was demolishing a plate of snacks meant for the Ferrari engineers. Y/n had been hiding out in the Ferrari garage since the paddock opened to avoid crossing paths with George.

“Okay, tell me the truth—how screwed am I?” Y/n asks, whipping around to face them.

“Oh, monumentally,” Lando replies through a mouthful of cookie. “Like Titanic levels. Possibly Pompeii.”

Charles nods along solemnly. “Also George is definitely plotting something. He walked by earlier muttering to himself like a Bond villain.”

“Fuck” Y/n groans pacing faster.

“You do realize hiding here makes you look guiltier, right?” Lando says, biting into another cookie

Y/n glares at him. “What do you want me to do? Parade around the paddock with a sign that says ‘Yes George, I am the mother of Max Verstappen’s future spawn’?!”

Charles snorts so hard that his espresso nearly spills. “Please don’t. George would spontaneously combust.”

“Plus technically speaking this is your fault,” Lando says, jabbing a finger at her.

She raises an eyebrow. “My fault? I’m not the one who told the entire world, ‘If it weren’t for the baby.’”

“That part was clearly Max’s fault,” Lando interjects, not looking up from his plate. “But this whole ‘let’s date secretly’ thing? Yeah, I’m blaming you for that one.”

“Excuse me?” Y/n shoots back.

“Don’t get defensive,” Charles says, holding his hands up. “But we told you this would end in disaster. And now? Look at you. Hiding in my garage like some kind of fugitive because George looks like he’s ready to blow up Redbull’s hospitality. You should have told George the second you two realized your relationship was serious.”

Y/n groans, tugging at her hair. “What’s done is done and I can’t change that now can I? And I’m here because I obviously can’t stay at the Mercedes garage if I want to avoid my brother and staying at Redbull is a deathwish. Imagine what’ll happen if he catches us both in the same place. I just hope George doesn't do anything stupid in public”

“Why do you think we’re here?” Lando says, grinning as he gestures to himself and Charles. “We’re like the UN Peacekeepers of the paddock. We’ll keep them both separate and make sure nothing happens today.”

“Like that's very reassuring,” Y/n mutters.

As the drivers line up for the national anthem, Y/n stays glued to the monitors, trying to keep a low profile. George, however, was impossible to miss.

“Great,” she mutters to herself as the camera pans to him. His jaw was clenched, his expression thunderous. It looked like he was barely holding himself together.

Oscar was hovering near George, subtly blocking him every time he shifted toward Max. Y/n couldn’t help but feel sorry for the Aussie, who looked like he’d accidentally wandered into a battlefield.

From his other side, Lando was casually draping an arm over his shoulder as if trying to calm him down. Instead, it seems to piss off George even more as he tried to shrug him off with a sharp glare, but Lando remained latched on.

“Please let this be over,” Y/n pleads at the screen.

The tension only escalated as the drivers headed to their cars. George made one last attempt to corner Max, and Y/n’s heart leaped into her throat.

“Oh no. Oh no. Don’t do it,” she whispered at the screen.

Oscar, ever the unwilling mediator, once again intercepted George, his hands up in a placating gesture. Y/n let out a relieved breath as George backed off, though he still looked furious.

She slumped back into her seat, her nerves frayed.

“Just one race,” she muttered to herself. “One race without drama. Is that too much to ask for?”

The drivers climbed into their cars, and the screen cut to the grid formation. Y/n felt a brief moment of peace, knowing that for the next couple of hours, George and Max would be too busy driving to tear into each other.

f1teaspill posted:

f1teaspill: Tensions are at an all-time high after today’s race! George Russell’s post-race interview took a dramatic turn when a journalist brought up Max’s cryptic baby comment and rumors about George’s sister. 😱 After repeatedly trying to dodge the question, George snapped, delivered a firm warning about personal boundaries, and stormed off.

The paddock drama just keeps escalating. Fans spotted George glaring at Max throughout the national anthem, and it seems like Oscar and Lando had to play paddock security to keep the peace. What’s your take on all this chaos? 🍼👀

Post-Race Interview Transcript:

Journalist: George, P5 today—a decent result to round out the season. Can you walk us through how you’re feeling about the race and the team’s performance?

George: (nodding) Yeah, it was a solid race. Not quite the result we hoped for, but the team worked hard all weekend. We gave it our best shot with the car we had. Of course, as a driver, you always want more, but I think we made the most of the opportunities we had out there.

Journalist: Fair enough. And, of course, today marks the end of an era with Lewis Hamilton’s final race for Mercedes. What’s it like to share this moment with him? Any reflections?

George: (pauses, visibly emotional) It’s bittersweet, really. Lewis has been such a huge part of the team and the sport as a whole. He’s not just a teammate but also a mentor and a legend in Formula 1. Sharing the garage with him has been an honor. I think I speak for everyone at Mercedes when I say we’re incredibly grateful for everything he’s brought to the team and wish him all the best for what comes next.

Journalist: Well said. Now, George, I have to shift gears a bit—there’s been a lot of chatter about some off-track tension. During the national anthem, fans couldn’t help but notice you glaring at Max Verstappen. Care to address that?

George: (stiffens, smile faltering) I wasn’t glaring at anyone. I was focused on the race, like I always am. People are reading into things that just aren’t there.

Journalist: Really? Because from the footage, it looked quite... pointed. And after Max’s comments yesterday about making peace with you ‘because of a baby,’ it’s hard not to wonder—

George: (cuts in, voice tight) I don’t see how that’s relevant to today’s race.

Journalist: (pressing) George, fans are speculating nonstop. Is it true? Is your sister having Max Verstappen’s baby?

George: (visibly bristling, voice rising) I think we’ve strayed far enough from the purpose of this interview. This is about Formula 1, about racing—not gossip or baseless rumors.

Journalist: With all due respect, George, Max’s words weren’t exactly cryptic. He was talking about a baby and making amends with you. Surely, you can understand why people are curious.

George: (snaps, voice sharp) Curious or not, it’s none of anyone’s business. This is supposed to be a post-race interview—not a soap opera recap. The media needs to learn where to draw the line. We’re here to race, not have our personal lives dissected under a microscope.

Journalist: But George, the fans—

George: (interrupts sharply) No. Enough. The media needs to maintain boundaries and stop meddling in our personal lives. I’m done here.

(George rips off his team cap, storms away from the interview pen, and disappears into the paddock, leaving the journalist and cameras stunned.)

Comments:

user: George was NOT here for the nonsense today. That ‘draw the line’ speech? ICONIC

user: Honestly, respect to George for standing up for himself. The journalist was pushing way too hard. Let the man race in peace user: Never seen George this mad before 😳 What is going on in the House of Commons???

user: Why do I feel like this confirms the baby news? Like he didn’t deny it, and his reaction was TOO intense

user: Respect to George for standing up to the journalist, but let’s not lie—he 100% confirmed the drama with that reaction. 🍼

user: Okay, but imagine George finding out about the baby at the same time as us 😭

user: George looked like he was going to deck Max during the national anthem. Thank you, Oscar, for literally being a human shield

user: No but why did George look like he was seconds away from body-slamming Max during the anthem? Lando had to literally hold him back 💀

user: Okay, but the real question is… what BABY? Whose baby? Did George even KNOW about this baby before today?!

user: Theory time! 1. Max and Y/n were dating in secret. 2. George didn’t know about the baby and is spiraling. 3. Netflix is eating GOOD

user: Imagine being George and learning about your sister’s alleged baby from Twitter

user: Lewis’ last race with Merc and THIS is what George has to deal with. Poor guy’s gonna need therapy after this season

user: The way everyone’s ignoring this is also Lewis’ last race with Mercedes 💀. George snapped so hard we forgot to be emotional

user: Lando probably whispered something dumb like ‘You’re doing amazing, sweetie’ while George was vibrating with rage

user: F1 isn’t just a sport. It’s a reality TV show with occasional car racing

Max stood under the glare of the cameras, trying to look composed despite the post-race fatigue gnawing at him. P6 wasn’t what he’d wanted, but at least he’d avoided the chaos brewing elsewhere in the paddock—or so he thought.

“So, the strategy was clearly compromised by the penalty,” the journalist asked, her tone probing. “Do you think there was any way to recover from that?”

Max nodded slightly, his words coming out measured. “Yeah, it was tough. We lost track position early, and once you’re in traffic—”

“Sorry to interrupt.”

The voice was eerily calm, almost polite, but it carried a weight that immediately silenced the conversation. Max turned to see George standing there, his posture casual but his jaw clenched tight.

The journalist blinked, clearly taken aback. “Uh, George? We’re in the middle of—”

“I need a moment with Max,” George cut her off, his tone civil but firm. He glanced at Max’s PR manager with an unnervingly calm smile. “I hope you don’t mind.”

The PR manager hesitated, looking between Max and George. Max let out a quiet sigh, already resigned to whatever was about to unfold. He gave a small nod. “It’s fine. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Before anyone could say another word, George’s hand clamped onto Max’s shoulder. It wasn’t rough, but it left no room for argument.

Max allowed himself to be steered away, his body language slumping slightly as though accepting his fate. George didn’t say a word as he guided Max through the paddock, weaving past mechanics and team personnel. A few glanced their way, their curiosity piqued, but no one dared to intervene.

“Are you going to say something, or are we just walking in ominous silence?” Max finally muttered, keeping his tone light but knowing full well George wasn’t in the mood for jokes.

George didn’t respond, his grip tightening slightly as they turned into a quieter corridor behind the team hospitality units.

“Okay,” Max said with a dry laugh, “this is starting to feel like a bad cop drama.”

George stopped abruptly, spinning Max around and slamming him against the wall. The thud echoed in the empty space, and Max winced slightly but didn’t resist.

“We need to talk,” George said, his voice low and steely, every word laced with barely contained anger.

Max met his gaze, his usual unflappable demeanor faltering under the intensity of George’s glare. For a moment, the air between them was thick with tension, unspoken words hanging heavy in the silence.

Taglist: @ilovechickenwings @spooky-librarian-ghost @diaryofarandomkid @rd14 @hc-dutch @96mcobo @grussellsprout @tremendousstarlighttragedy @awritingtree @shelbyteller @diorbrxtz

@henna006 @freyathehuntress @nichmeddar @formulaal @sleutherclaw

@anilovessadbooks @mangotaitai @vtryy @finn-dot-com @sarahsobsession

[saetiate]

FORSAKEN BY ALL THE GODS.

info: prince!kaiser x f!reader, enemies to lovers, fantasy au, arranged marriage, eventual smut. afab reader w she/her pronouns. reader has an established backstory and is not weak, reader’s appearance is nondescript. reader calls him “mihya” as they get closer. oliver and karasu are bffs in this lol. maybe some angst if you squint. happy ending!! plot is balanced with comedic moments. 

synopsis: You will be killed by the one you love most. That line from his prophecy has haunted Kaiser his whole life. Against it all, you stand before him. Will you be the one to rewrite fate itself?

word count: 14k (please don’t let this scare you, i promise my writing is efficient) 

a/n: this might be my magnum opus, i promise i poured my best dialogue and writing into this and it shows. if you consider reading like so seriously i will love you forever. also the smut is huge just like his cock <3 or my heart. ao3 link

Kaiser has been forsaken thrice fold. First, by his parents. His mother is said to be a beautiful woman that captured the hearts of all. His father could not bear her ultimate betrayal: leaving, causing him to wither away to nothing.

Kaiser guesses that this aspect of her runs in his blood after all.

The second and third time he is forsaken happen at once.

On the night that Kaiser is, by royal decree, anointed successor to the throne, he does as tradition dictates. He approaches the golden temple at the top of a mountain and mirrors the prophet within, sitting cross-legged in front of them.

The prophet gazes into the distance. And then, like a man possessed, they speak.

Lone Emperor who covets the throne, You will be killed by the one you love most.

Kaiser swears he feels even his heart stop at that. Cold rushes through him, the chill of it colder than anything he had felt at the front lines of war.

Forsaken by all the Gods —

The prophet stops, staring into the distance with a frown.

The silence is deafening. Noa, despite tradition, interrupts the ceremony and approaches the prophet, clicking his fingers in front of their face.

“The prophecy?”

The prophet’s eyes widen with fear. “I- I cannot.”

“What, are you afraid?” Kaiser scoffs. “The prophecy is bad as it is, it can’t get much worse than that.”

“No, I mean I cannot. The — the Fates! They’ve stopped speaking to me!”

“Excuse me?” Kaiser’s scowl is evident, and Noa swears that in any other situation, Kaiser would’ve moved for his sword and set his blade ablaze.

It speaks volumes that all he does is stare right at the prophet, fear barely contained in his eyes.

The prophet grips at Noa’s hand, forcing his gaze. “My lord, please believe me. This — in the history... it has never happened before. I swear it.”

Noa whistles, and the guards outside come rushing in. “Seize them,” he commands, and they stare at each other for a moment.

To seize and capture that  which is considered holy? Is that not blasphemy?

Noa cares little, almost removing his sword from his sheath to do it himself. “What are you all waiting for?”

“My lord! I swear to you!” The prophet grapples towards Noa in spite of their hands being held behind their back, the guards barely catching them from falling to their knees. “The fact that I would admit this at all shows my loyalty to you!” The prophet gasps, breath coming fast.” I could have pretended, could have given a false prophecy. I did not. That’s the choice I made. That is all the proof you need.”

It’s convincing enough that Noa hesitates, taking a deep breath in. But he sees in the corner of his eye Kaiser’s state, sitting in the kind of stillness that you see before a battle, bent over at the bottom of the altar. 

At that sight, Noa makes a single motion with his hand for the prophet to be taken away.

The room clears.

“Kaiser, I —” 

Whatever comforting remark Noa might have made dies in his throat, because Kaiser laughs, a bitter and broken sound, that he would in the future rarely have his walls down to ever reveal again. He hides his eyes behind his hand and he laughs.

“Of course, my prophecy would come to something like this.” He drags his hand down across his face. “Forsaken by all the Gods.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Noa says it with conviction, and it’s enough for Kaiser to face him.

“Master?”

“You will still be the successor to the throne. As is your destiny.”

“My destiny?” Kaiser jabs a thumb to the now-empty seating. “We just heard my destiny.”

“What the gods have declared has nothing to do with me. I declare you the next to rule. That is all.”

Noa presses a hand to the crown of Kaiser’s head. “No one will know what transpired here. A tragic prophecy is a given. It is meant to be a trial of sorts, after all. Mine, too, was unpleasant. Though not nearly as dire.”

“What was yours?”

Noa breathes in deeply. “A twisted rivalry with a twisted man. One that was to be all-consuming to me.”

Kaiser scoffs. “A rivalry. Just train and win.”

Noa lets the comment pass, staring out of the temple and past the mountains. “The rivalry came and went. At the time, I felt it was the worst. I could not eat, sleep, or breathe without the thought of what he would do next on my mind. But I was lucky, that it passed.”

He motions for Kaiser to take his arm, bringing him back up to standing. “Yours will pass too, I’m sure of it.”

Kaiser waves his hand, gesturing at Noa to let go of him. It’s easy to say, easy to have faith when it is not your life that balances on the precipice.

Forsaken thrice: once, by his parents. Another, by the Gods. And third, by his own future lover. Kaiser curses the Gods and the Weaver for such a fate, for something possibly worse than death is looming over him.

You will be killed by the one you love most. That line has haunted his very being to this day.

~

The people do not know what causes their successor to turn so cold, as biting and harsh as winter itself. His quicksilver smile rattles bones, his sword is cutting like blood in snow.

The prophecy is on a need-to-know basis, and Kaiser has never been crueler. He trains, harder than ever. Enough that when an unmovable sword is found at the rocks of the ocean, he trains until he is able to pull it from the bank, wield it with one hand. Rumor has said it might take three men to carry, or that the night sky that shimmers across it is strong enough to kill even a god. His sole retrieval of it is proof to the people of his strength and stature, but compassion and love are rarely a topic of conversation with his name.  

He focuses on his work. He does not take lovers. He barely sees others as friends. And he most certainly does not take a bride.

~

You appear before the throne and you do not bow. The scowl on Kaiser’s face at this says enough.

“You dare-”

“You have the sword.” You ignore Kaiser entirely, setting your sights completely on Noa.

The silence that follows is as large and wide as the ocean, but your gaze is sharp and keen, never faltering once until Noa speaks.

“Water sorceress,” Noa addresses you coldly, “or that’s what you told our people.”

“Yes.”

“You are not the only sorceress of water. Yet your power is second to none.” Noa stands, stepping down the stairs with heavy, thumping footfalls until he’s standing right in front of you. “They call you the water’s mistress, in the neighboring lands.”

“They do.”

He begins to circle you, like a hunter might before striking a deer. Standing next to you, his deep voice clear right next to your ear, he eyes you curiously. “They’re all wrong, aren’t they?”

You don’t answer. Noa takes that as answer enough.

“A power like that. Do you think me stupid?” He observes you, checks you visually for weapons, watches your hands to ensure you don’t call magic forth.

“Demigod.” He about spits the word from behind you, and yet all you do is tilt your head to catch him in your eye’s view.

“You are as well-informed as they say.”

“I am as logical as they come.”

“We are the same in that regard, then. So let’s get straight to the point.” 

Noa returns back to the throne, seemingly satisfied with his observing, gesturing at you to continue. 

“You have something belonging to me. A sword, heavier than most. Ancient, yet sharp. It is said to look like it contains a night sky.”

“The blade you’re speaking of was found by us, it is ours to keep.”

In the short silence that follows, Kaiser swears there must be irritation on your end, but you don’t show it. Instead, you take a deep breath in.

“The blade was thrown out of the heavens and spat out into this realm during a war between Gods.”

“Is that so? And how can you prove it’s yours?”

“I can wield it, unlike your people, who do not have the means to wield a sword as such.” You state simply.

Like rose grown blue, the impossible becomes possible. You can feel the divinity and the power that comes off the sword in waves the minute it’s unsheathed, your eyes widening. The ring of it is as familiar to you as your own skin, how could you not have felt its presence sooner? But Kaiser is fast, much faster than you expected, faster than he should be with a sword of that weight, that magnitude. Before you can turn your head, cold silver kisses your neck.

“This blade, sorceress?” He comes around from behind you, stalks around you just like his Master had, sword pointed like it may just draw blood from you at any moment. When you finally see his face, his sneer is wicked.

He takes pride in your wide-eyed gaze, your sharpened attention, but the lack of fear on your part grates at him. God-killing, they had called the blade. Yet you don’t shy away at all.

“Say we return the sword to its rightful owner,” Noa calls back your attention, “what would you offer us in return?”

“Offer in return? This sword does not belong to you. It is returned, as it should be.”

“This sword, with its divinity, could harm even a god.” Kaiser presses the blade closer to your neck, gleaming metal against your skin. “It protects this nation. What if the gods forsake us? If we return it to you, what would protect us against them then?”

“For what reason would they do such a thing?”

Kaiser barks a laugh. “Of course, there would be no criticisms from one of them. Water sorceress, demigod. Tell us, who are you, truly? What do your people call you, up there? No matter.” He lowers the sword, but leaves it unsheathed, its heavy weight balanced in his palm. A threat that at any moment, he may change his mind. “Those titles mean nothing to me. I have been forsaken, demigod. So know, I trust not even the gods.”

You sigh. Foreseeing a troublesome future has its cons, you suppose. Your queen would smile if you told her such.

“You ask for something with power in equal to or more than the blade. You asked me for my titles. I shall give you both.” The sleeves of your dress shimmer as you move them, and it’s in this moment that Kaiser notices they are not sleeves but water itself, cradled around your wrists like armor. “The Gods had bestowed on me the title Sword Maiden, and I offer myself and my services to you until the end of your line.”

That shocks the room like a bucket of cold water.

You turn to Kaiser, who stands beside the throne. You step forward once, and water rushes underneath that step, descending in waves over the floor as if it goes through it, a magic they have never witnessed prior. “You say the Gods have forsaken you? Let my presence be proof to you that they still watch over you.”

Kaiser scowls, “What sort of cheap trick is this?”

“My domain is truth. I cannot lie.”

“Oh, please.”

Your eyes narrow at him. “Would it help for you to press your sword against my neck once more?”

A goddess who cannot lie. Noa’s faith lies in logic, but he’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. His gaze flits between Kaiser and you before he seems to settle a decision in his mind.

“Until the end of Kaiser’s line.” Noa negotiates.

Kaiser’s gaze snaps to Noa. “You’re taking her up on this?”

You almost frown. “Fine.”

Noa quirks an eyebrow at you. “That simple?”

“Human lives move quickly.”

Kaiser eyes you curiously. “What happens when you lie?”

You blink at him. Once. Twice. Is that… almost a flustered look you have on?

He readjusts his grip on the blade. “Speak, sorceress.”

“Wh-What do you want me to say?!” You grip at your dress nervously, and that has him even more curious.

“I’m waiting here,” he sing-songs playfully.

“Before the lie can leave my voice, my neck swells up like a balloon, and chokes me.”

He smiles wickedly. “Demonstrate.”

Gods, if it wasn’t immoral, you could wring his neck right now.

You think, for even a moment, a simple lie. And in seconds, you’re almost suffocating on nothing, and Kaiser laughs. Laughs. A full laugh, bending at his knees.

“Oh gods, you’re like a pufferfish!”

You let go of the lie, taking heaving breaths. “Just because I have water capabilities does not mean I am a fish.”

In the midst of the conversation, Isagi leans against Noa’s side, a soft conversation full of worry.

“You’ll have to explain her presence to the council,” Isagi tells him, blue eyes wide with hesitation.

“Right, and your suggestion?”

“I have thought about it, considerably. If you say you hired her, with a force as powerful as her, the other nations may think you are to wage war. So… Given the heir’s… reputation,” Isagi’s gaze flits nervously between you and Kaiser. “If he is willing, she may be a good fit.”

Noa sighs. This, this exact theory, has been a conversation with the other members of his team for months. That a wife by his side would make him seem less chilling, make the transition to a new heir easier on the public, prevent outroar. It is one thing to feel that Kaiser keeps a nation safe, and another to love him as a ruler.

It’s an easy decision, but a hard conversation.

“Kaiser.”

He whips around, ceasing his antics quickly. “Master.”

Noa looks like he is about to say something to him, but hesitates, turning to you instead. Isagi nervously steps away from the dais, returning to his position.

“Goddess,” this time, there is no malice behind Noa’s words. “I accept your offer. However, your presence in this nation and in this castle must be explained appropriately. Should I bear you the title of my successor’s betrothed, would that be a title you’re willing to bear?”

Kaiser’s back straightens. “Excuse me?” he utters low.

“You do not have to bear children,” he specifies. “And you do not have to truly be wed.”

A goddess, to be betrothed to a mortal, as princely as he is, is a serious affair. Kaiser slides his gaze to Isagi, with the audacity to even suggest such. And yet, you seem to ponder it like a simple question.

“I see. As long as the sword is in my presence and protection, how you communicate with your nation is none of my concern.”

“So be it, then,” Noa agrees quickly. “I’ll have our people show you to a room.”

You nod, and are whisked away. The throne room, as if knowingly, empties quickly, guards rushing out to leave Kaiser alone with Noa.

“You made this decision for me,” Kaiser spins to face Noa, spits his words through gritted teeth. “I have been clear. I will take no brides.”

“You believe the prophecy made a choice for you.”       

“The prophecy bears no mercy. Or do you wish for my death so eagerly? If so, take your sword out and do it your damn self.”

Noa lets him speak, heave his words out until there’s silence once more.

“She cannot lie,” Noa says softly. “She cannot lie to you, Kaiser. And she is a goddess, a divine being.”

“Demigod,” Kaiser corrects.

“She is divine, and she cannot lie. She is correct, to this end – that as long as she is here, the prophecy cannot come to be. For she has not forsaken us.” Forsaken you, goes unspoken. “She could be good for you, if you allowed her to be.”

Kaiser lets out a canned laugh. “Ha. How can the divine ever understand us?”

Noa stands. “You’ll have plenty of time to find out.”

Kaiser taps his hand against his sword hilt. “You really will not move on this?”

Noa shakes his head. “She is too valuable to lose, and you have a reputation for cruelty. The solution is nothing short of perfect.”

The logical comes above his feelings. Kaiser knows this, even if he hates to come face to face with it.

Noa walks out of the throne room, leaving Kaiser to his bitterness.

“Shitty master,” he mumbles under his breath to no one.

~

It’s jarring to all the guards, the way you don’t even stand let alone bow when Noa knocks to enter your room. But Noa cares little for things like that, if you’re truly offering what you’ve said.

“Perhaps I was too hasty, in presenting the solution before giving you the facts.” He hesitates before you in the reflection of your vanity. You don’t respond, barely even look at him as you unclasp your jewelry, laying it on the table.

“He will not love you.” Noa tells you after a breath, his surefire eyes finally meeting yours.

You give him a curious gaze. “That is likely for the best. I would outlive him, after all.”

“It is, truly, on a need-to-know basis. To tell you this-”

“The prophecy, I presume you’re referring to,” you interrupt, turning to face him.

The shock rolls quickly off him. Divinity does have its mysteries, he supposes. “You already know.”

“I asked the water, why he is so quick to believe he is forsaken. They told me that he lives under the burden of a prophetic trial. That is all I know.” You stand, moving to unzip your dress only for Noa to hastily pull a partition screen across the room and turn around.

“The water, it speaks to you?”

“It does. Though it’s worth noting that it does not make me all-seeing.” Your voice carries over the partition with the ruffle of clothing. “The queen of the Gods, who sees all fates – she is the only one who is truly all-seeing.”

You come out in a nightgown, folding the partition back. He chucks you a robe that you catch easily.

“You should learn the ways of this world if you want to pass as a simple water sorceress, especially before the banquet.”

You frown. “The prince is my betrothed, is he not? Will he not handle it all?”

The idea you present sparks in Noa’s mind. “Brilliant. I’ll have Kaiser and some of the other members of our team show you the ropes. Good night, sorceress.”

You nod to him, and the door clicks shut.

~

“She’s a what?”

Oliver slams his metal cup of beer down, rolling the dice once more.

“A demigod, Oliver. Gods, are you that drunk already? Keep up.” Karasu grabs at the dice as Oliver moves his pieces.

“Can you all shut the fuck up? What happened to need-to-know basis?” Chigiri slinks himself over to their table.

“We’re need-to-know.” Karasu jabs a thumb at himself and Oliver.

“They are, actually, need-to-know.” Isagi puts a gentle hand on Chigiri’s shoulder, settling down next to him. “Because she’s never been human in her life.”

“And now we’re supposed to, what, teach her to be human? Is that a thing we can do?” Chigiri twirls a strand of hair between his fingers, tapping the end against Isagi’s cheek.

Oliver snorts. “What, like a class? Some of us have never sat in one of those, you prissy little shits.”

“She can’t dance, for one.”

“Get Kaiser to teach her. Isn’t he her betrothed?”

That has Oliver almost spitting out his drink, choking on it in coughs. “He's her what?”

Chigiri scowls in his direction. “Dude, are you listening at all?”

“If she’s really his betrothed, none of us should be teaching her.” Oliver warns genuinely. “He’ll cut down everyone here, before he lets us touch her.”

“It’s just an excuse,” Isagi waves his hand, pulling out a leather-bound bind of notes. “They’re not actually together.”

“Oh, you actually got that motion to pass. Shit.” Karasu remarks admirably.

“It must be so tiring,” Bachira sighs happily, falling into place next to Isagi, “to have to actually care about what other people think.”

“The optics, Bachira,” Isagi smacks the end of his pen across Bachira’s nose, and he makes an oh! sound in response.

When Kaiser walks in, the room almost goes silent. He’s used to it, of course. Hearing only the way his footfalls come heavy, boots thumping into the stone floor as a drink is placed right in front of him immediately.

The room slowly fills back with noise as he shoulders off his coat, wrapping it around the chair before sitting. But only his table is still strangely silent.

He flits his gaze over the group. Usually, they’re the first to kill the silence in the room, yelling about the game or a duel. He looks at Isagi, specifically, who seems the most nervous. “Something you wanna say to me?”

“Uh…”

Chigiri sighs, killing the tension. “We’re deciding who gets to teach her how to dance.”

Kaiser quirks an eyebrow. “The demigod?”

Chigiri nods, and Kaiser takes a long gulp of his drink, popping it back down and twirling the top of it with his fingers. “I’ll do it.”

“What?” It’s Isagi’s turn to be shocked, sitting up straight.

Kaiser exhales audibly. “None of you could handle her. She could cut you with water the moment you accidentally step on her.”

It’s not an insult, really. They know this too. That this is Kaiser’s brand of protection, to add insult to injury just to keep others out of harm’s way. But they play his game.

“Think we can’t dodge fast enough? A bit demeaning, don’t you think?” Oliver’s grin is wicked, making straight eye contact with Kaiser, who only draws his eyebrows in at his direction.

“You think that god-killing sword is gonna save you?” Karasu asks.

“I don’t have the sword anymore.”

“What?”

It stings more than it should, he thinks. The sword that he thought chose only him, so quickly released from his grasp. But his strength is his own, he holds fast to that. 

Kaiser glances at Karasu. “Those are the terms. She marries me, she gets the sword.”

Ness rests his cheek on his hand. “Man, that sounds like she wins twice.”

Chigiri scoffs at that. “She’s a demigod. Being down here is probably like being in the sewers to her.”

Kaiser stands abruptly, pushing his drink aside, his coat billowing as he wraps it over himself once more.

“Where are you going?” Isagi yells, but he doesn’t answer.

“He gone for real?” Oliver elbows Karasu. “I’m too drunk to tell.”

“Yeah, man. He’s gone”  

“Great.” Oliver slaps a piece down. “I’ll bet 50 bucks right now they get married for real.”

“What the fuck?” Chigiri tilts his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling like it might give him some reprieve.

Karasu laughs, “Okay, I’ll play. I’ll bet 20 that they try to kill each other.”

“You’re just a hater.”

“Nah, I agree,” Reo leans back in the booth. “Kaiser’s a lot of things, but a loving husband is a bit much.”

“She’s a goddess. He’s literally already betrothed to her.” Oliver takes another swig. “Y’all ain’t gonna marry a goddess if she was given to you? Damn, put me in his place, I’ll do it right now.”

~

Kaiser trains, every morning, from sunrise to noon.

You only know because most of the rooms in the palace outlook to a self-contained field. You see him, often, because of this, even if he doesn’t speak to you. As you walk down the corridor, in your classes with Isagi about the current climate of the nations.

“It is useless for me to learn this,” you tell him. “In a few short millennia, the border of the nations will undoubtedly change. And we will have to relearn it all again. What is the use? Why war at all over something so insignificant? Just have a conversation about it.”

Isagi makes a pointed, bored expression at you for this, and then pretends like you didn’t say anything at all.  

At the end of class today, you press your elbows to the open windowsill.

Kaiser is there, sparring with Ness. Ness is quick, agile, fleet-footed and runs circles around Kaiser so much so that it almost makes it difficult to keep up.  

Kaiser approaches him at bone-breaking momentum, launches strike after hardened strike. He’s shirtless, bandages wrapped around the bottom of his torso, and his body is streaked with sweat. He’s strong, clearly. Broad shoulders clear now from when they were hidden under layers of clothing the first time you met him, the muscles in his arms flexing and relaxing with each step of the friendly duel, hair dipped in saltwater blue.

You know what he looks like, now. You get a sense why Fate brings you here.

He looks like a hero.

The kind that Gods covet, watch from their merry clouds. It’s no wonder that he’s burdened by a prophetic trial, with a face as cutting as his sword, his hair framing his face and flowing. 

He takes one look to the side of him and his eyes find yours immediately. It must be some sort of fighter’s sense, you think. For him to have done it so easily.

You give him the space you think he might be asking for. You turn away.

~

He approaches you one night, just before sunset. Karasu had just finished an etiquette lesson with you, setting away forks and knives. Whatever he sees on Kaiser’s face makes him move quicker. He nods once to Kaiser, and then hastily leaves.

“You’ve been making yourself quite at home here, demigod.” Kaiser traces the lace outline of the tablemat, every ridge under his calloused finger.

“I vowed myself to your kingdom to the end of your life. I’m simply doing what is asked of me.”

“And you’re all ready for the banquet, I’m guessing?” The sentence is almost mocking as he approaches you.

“It’s just a ball, is it not? I’ve been told I’m just to stand there and make pleasantries.”  

Kaiser chuckles, more bared teeth than sweet. “It is, arguably, the worst part of being so-called royalty.”

“You’re taking this much better than I thought you would.”

"To say no to a goddess' proposal would be the greatest blasphemy, no?" 

"From what I've seen, you have not minded sacrilege much at all."

“Marriage means little to me. Disillusioned, perhaps, with the prophecy.” He waves his hand like he speaks of something meaningless. But you see it clearly. Before he had even allowed himself the thought of love, it was taken from him. “Your power is great, your presence ensures the continuation of myself as an heir and successor. Even I can reason with that.”

He's right in front of you now, so close you can feel his body warmth.

“Does it bother me?” He shrugs. “Sure. As far as I’m aware, you are no wife of mine. But a protector of this nation? For that, you are an indispensable ally.”

He looks out the window, towards a coming sunset. Something indescribable on his face, like grief and guilt all in one. He takes a deep breath in and out, inhaling the peace and exhaling the heaviness of his heart, before facing you again. “A war is coming. No one believes me, but I can feel it, as steady as a river’s current. Until then, I’ll make my peace with you.”

You nod. “So be it, your highness.”

That has him stepping back, more incredulous than you’ve ever seen him, body tensed and frowning. Maybe he should’ve expected it, given the way he’s just dismissed you. “Your highness? You hadn’t questioned my lineage before, but now you dare to do so?”

You stare at him blankly. “You are a prince, are you not? Isagi says that’s what princes are called.”

One side of his mouth upturns in relief, and he bursts out a bright laugh. “Is that what they teach you in those lessons Isagi gives? Oh,” a hand runs through the front of his hair, “I thought my own wife-to-be would dare insult me.” 

You scoff. “I have no need for that.” 

“The title ‘your highness’ doesn’t apply to this nation because strength is valued most. I am heir to the throne not because of the blood running through my veins, but because Noa deemed I the strongest — not just in body but in mind, not just in physical strength but in adaptability.” He says it proudly, like fact, like a knowing so deep within him that it turns pride into faith. “A title like that is something used by the Itoshi brothers, let’s say,” he comments airily. “Their throne is carried by a bloodline.” 

He turns on his heel, only looking back when he realizes you don’t follow.

“You don’t know how to dance yet, do you?”

You lean your hip against the table. “I can dance.”

“Come, then. If you’re to be my wife, it’ll be an embarrassment if you don’t at least act like it.”

You follow him to a ballroom – a stunning, wide area with a looping chandelier, curtains that weigh down in arches over each floor-to-ceiling window.

He swoops you from your distraction with a hand around your waist, and the physical contact shocks you so greatly that orbs of water swirl in your hands.

Kaiser only raises an eyebrow at you. “This is a dance, not a duel. Or do the gods do it differently?”

For a man who was so passive to you, he holds you so close that your chest to chest, you can feel each breath he takes against you. When he steps with you, his movements are slow and deliberate, never inefficient. He moves not with fluidity, but with each sure step. Pulls you forward, then pushes you back. Circles you, spins you around.

It’s exactly like when you see him train. Like steps to a kata.

“I thought you said this was not a duel.”

“These are steps to a classic waltz, demigod.”

“You have no fluidity to you.”

Kaiser scoffs. “Should I apologize? With the prophetic curse hanging above me, I haven’t taken a dancing class.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“Hm?”

“The prophecy. It doesn’t have to be a curse.”

He stops, separating himself from you, scowling.

“This session is over.”

“Kaiser-,”

“What?” He snaps. “You, of divine nature. You want to tell me how to view my prophecy?”

“I do not say this out of pity, or out of some sort of higher knowing.” You say it with conviction. “As heir to the throne, a throne that is currently being held by Fate itself, maybe I shouldn’t be saying this at all.”

“And yet?”

“To know your fate is to be able to defy it.” And maybe it’s just an effect of your divinity, but it rings like a bell, like truth itself. “Your prophecy may have made a wound, but you are the one who cuts it open. You are a man who wields a sword that cannot, should not be able to be wielded by anyone but the divine. Does that not say something? About you, about your capabilities?”

“And yet you took it from me.” 

The silence that follows is thick with indecision. Kaiser lets the uncomfortableness sit, rejects every heartwarmed statement you make with a roll of his shoulders, like water off a smoothened rock, replaced with only his anger. “I trained for weeks before I could lift that sword out of the riverbank. Yet it is yours, now, simply because you are supposedly its rightful owner.” 

Conflict runs through your face so clearly, he wonders that even if you could lie, whether it would mean anything at all. He watches as your hand reaches into a conjured puddle of water that floats in the air, and out comes the divine sword.

You hold it in your hand with an ease that he has spent months capturing. It strikes envy in him like a branded sear. 

“My role here is technically to secure the sword. I have no need to wield it.” You hold it at the bottom of its handle, directing the top of it to him. “If you swear you won’t lose her, I can set a compromise of sorts.” 

“You think I’d agree to a compromise?” 

You open up your palm, and a bracelet appears. “This will help you keep the sword in a pocket dimension we can both access. If you’re willing to place it there to secure it when you’re not using it, I’ll return her to you until the end of your line.” 

Huh. A safe-keeping place is a more neutral proposition than he had thought you’d come up with. To have her back kills the fight in him, and he accepts begrudgingly, testing the magic in his hands until it becomes natural. 

“For the record, Kaiser, I have not always been worthy of it.”

Something about the way his name slips off your lips has him keening. “Worthy?”

“I stayed true to my course. I was given a title. And then I could wield the sword, presented to me by my queen.”

“Your queen. Heir to the throne.” He laughs bitterly, knowingly. “You’re a princess.”

“Despite your mocking tone, I’ll have you know that title of mine is of the highest regard. I don’t take it nearly as lightly as you do with yours.”

“That’s why you didn’t bow or kneel. You take what’s meant to be yours without a second thought. Not because you’re unknowing, or because of some godly pride, but because you have never been lesser.” He flicks a finger between your eyebrows. “What a spoiled thing you are. Can you even fight?”

Something in Kaiser takes pride in the way you frown more deeply, it’s almost like a pout. It’s almost… 

“Well, I definitely wasn’t sitting idly in the war between Gods.” 

“I’ve never seen you train.” 

“That’s because you’re always on the training grounds.” 

“Oh? You won’t show me?” 

“I’m giving you space. I’m no wife of yours, no?” There’s a sting to it when you say it, having his words thrown back at him. 

“Duel with me. Tomorrow.” He spins you, lets you out of his hold before bringing you back in. 

~

He begins to meet you, day after day. A duel first, and then a dance. The dichotomy would be distasteful to any other, but you of divine blood do not even flinch at his request.

He may be displeased to have you, but his mouth cracked as wide and wicked as a cat’s at the prospect of a fight.

“Go on, then.” He takes a blunt, wooden sword, throwing it in your direction. “Or do you only fight with magic?” He teases. 

You swing the sword, rotating your wrist with ease. “Do you forget yourself, prince? I am half divine, you will surely lose. Are you sure you want to go through with this anyways?” 

His mouth widens, more teeth than smile. “Bring it.” 

You know, the moment you defend against his first strike, that a singular hit from him on the battlefield must be deadly. He is surefooted, his whole weight bears down in every move. He doesn’t let you breathe once, much faster than you would’ve thought with someone of his size and height. 

Kaiser was almost right about one thing, that the divine adds to your magic more than your physical strength. With enough training, in just simple hand-to-hand combat… He might have the potential to beat you. 

But not today. Today, you have him pinned to the ground, makeshift blade to his throat. 

“You’re awfully close,” he gasps out slyly. And it’s in this moment that you notice, too, how right he is about that, how you can feel his heartbeat underneath yours, his chest against yours with each exhale. 

“What?” He grins wide, “afraid you’ll miss?” 

By all the Gods, you want to knock the living daylights out of him. He notices your anger in that hesitation, your conflict between doing what is right and what you want, and flips you over, swapping your positions until his hips are pressed against yours. 

Something about your shell-shocked face makes him stir. 

“First rule of fighting, sweetheart,” he runs a hand through his hair before planting it next to your head, leaning into you close. “Never get distracted by your opponent.”

He’s closer than he was before, admiring the way you look under him, your hair splayed along the ground and the sweet fire of irritation in your eyes. Is the heaving of your chest from your anger towards him, or from something else entirely? 

“When Gods fight, there is not nearly as much prattling.” You grit at him. He smells like the grass of the field and the winter air and the heavy musk of sweat, and when you shove him off, it feels like your hand meets the hard rock of an unruly ocean. 

~

It is during dances that he speaks to you. Not at first, but slowly, like a river that streams into the ocean. You tell him tales about the Gods, about your friends, about wars and petty arguments. And he starts to answer you, more often than not, with every question you might have. 

“I have wondered about something.” 

“Hm?”

“The sheathing. It prevents even me from detecting the sword’s divinity.” 

“Huh, so Nagi really wasn’t lying.” 

“Nagi, who is always with Reo?” 

Kaiser nods. “They say Nagi was once sought upon by a god for his talents, a god who was constantly sending him dreams. But he grew tired of it, so he found a material that prevents even the gods from finding him so he can sleep in peace.” 

The conversation often leads to the prophecy, a bitterness like licorice on his tongue. Even if he skates around the topic, you don’t let him hide from it, cutting straight to the heart of the truth.

“You can live in the cold bitterness you’ve put yourself in, Kaiser,” you tell him, one of these nights. “Or you can live, and maybe even possibly die, warmed by a life you truly felt was worth living. Your own choices. Not because of a prophecy, or because of Noa, or even in spite of me.”

But despite it, he doesn’t move away. Because it is the only time he has you to himself. He sees you, always, with Isagi and Oliver and Karasu and Chigiri. How you have molded into their lives with simplicity, sit with them at meals and have easy conversation despite knowing nothing, in a way that he has never once allowed himself to enjoy. What does it say about Kaiser? That he can't stand your presence but he can't stand your absence even more? That he would rather have a biting argument with you than leave you to your own devices? 

It's during duel and dance that he comes as close as he can to touching you. If he did anymore, it would become something he doesn't have the heart to name without unease settling in his gut.

~

On the day of the banquet, Chigiri sits you down in your vanity, braiding your hair back in his hands.

“The queen of the Gods, her lover, a friend of mine… He used to do this for me too.”

Chigiri silently appreciates that you don’t ask him why it is him that helps you with this. That divinity doesn’t hold the same notions this world does.

“He would-,” you laugh softly to yourself. You’re stunning like this, Chigiri can’t help but notice. A goddess, most casual as can be. “He would say that I was useless at it, actually. You two might’ve been good friends.”

“Me? Friends with a god?” Chigiri finishes the braid, tilting your head in his hands to admire the way the braid crowns around each side.

“Of the Fae, actually. A beautiful man he is. You would fit right in.”

That stops Chigiri, has him taking a sharp intake of breath, smiling at you through the vanity’s reflection. “Thank you, princess. Though you would do good to be more careful during this banquet to compliment anyone.”

You smile softly back. “Ah, yes, my betrothed who will not love me might get jealous. Gods are not so different than people, in this regard.”

“Is that so…”

~

It’s when you meet the Itoshi brothers at the banquet that you begin to understand why Isagi gave you all these lessons.

Where Kaiser is muscle and sword first, more fighter than prince, Sae and Rin are the opposite. They have a grace befitting of royalty. Instead of heavy footfalls that you can hear even in the blanket of snow, they are light-footed, conscious of it in the echoed ballroom.

Though you suspect, from the way Sae grips Kaiser’s forearm as they shake hands, from the way Kaiser regards Sae, that he is somehow just as strong of a fighter. That royalty is an illusion Sae and Rin put on, for peace’s sake.

Something indescribable flits over Sae’s face as you curtsy in front of him, but it’s gone in a moment, replaced with his nonchalance.

“The betrothed of the banquet. We are most pleased to make your acquaintance.” Sae bows his head to you, and Rin follows in his stead.

You smile, something beaming and sweet. “The pleasure is all mine.”

“Would you mind, Kaiser?” Sae’s eyes only leave yours for a glance, to check in at Kaiser’s now furrowed look. “I’d like to take your wife-to-be for a dance.”

Kaiser’s back straightens, a hardened gaze with gritted teeth. But he says nothing. You swear Sae almost grins.

“I’ll return her back to you.” He says it like a favor, and Kaiser is only held back by Karasu’s hand on his shoulder.

“It’s just one dance, Kai,” Kaiser looks at Karasu, then to you, and then back to Sae. He barely nods once.

“Are you sure?” You ask him.

He scowls. “What do I have to be worried about?”

Well, it’s not like you want to anger him further. You let Sae take your hand, leading you to the floor.

“I almost didn't think you were who you said you were, when I saw you,” Sae tells you, breaking the quiet of the dance. 

You lean back so you can see his whole face, your confusion clear. “Your highness?”

“When I had heard of you, they told me that waves flowed off your dress like water itself holds you sacred. Yet here you are, as regular as can be.”

Sae twirls you away from him, then brings you back into his arms. “They say you shook the earth with a single step. Where is all that power you were said to hold?” He holds you close, watching your every reaction with his crystal gaze. “This place. They’ve placated you, tamed you.”

He brings his mouth to your ear, the body warmth of his entire chest seeping into yours. “If you were mine, I would never force you into a box you didn’t belong. I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of Kaiser, even with his god-killing sword.” He spins you again, capturing your waist. “If you were mine, I wouldn’t be afraid to demonstrate your power to the world.”

“Sae.” He looks at you in a way that feels meaningful. You don’t know the pleasantries of this nation or his in-depth, but you know, somehow, that this feels like this is something you should shield from. 

“Oh? No honorifics already? We’re that intimate, are we?”

To fight is one thing, but this is something entirely different. Being able to hurt others with a play instead of a sword, you’re not sure if you can shield others from something like that.

As the song ends, Sae takes your hand, brings it to his mouth to kiss the back of it. “Consider my proposition, princess. Before your marriage solidifies, and becomes something you can’t escape from.”

With his hand on the small of your waist, he brings you back to Kaiser dutifully. Kaiser links his arm with yours immediately, before any of you can spare a goodbye.

“What did he say to you?”

You hum. You get the sense that maybe…

“Nothing of importance,” you tell him instead.

“Hm?” He tilts your chin up to meet you eye to eye. “Is my own betrothed keeping secrets from me?”

“He said I don’t seem all that powerful.”

That makes Kaiser smile, not something sweet but with teeth bared, like a wolf. “He hasn’t seen you in action.” He pulls you in, hand wrapping to the back of your neck, a slow and deep whisper. “Do you want to show them?”

“Weren’t we both told that’s inappropriate? Isagi said the optics could make your allies scared.”

Kaiser rolls his eyes. “Isagi this, optics that. Our country has always been about the brawl and brave. Let the nations fear us, then. I, with my cruelty and a god-killing sword. You, a sorceress second to none. It’s a pretty picture, is it not?”

He straps his sword to his back and brings you to the middle of the room, and as the guests of honor, the crowd gives you both a wide berth. He circles you, just like you practiced. Makes you center stage.

“Go on then, princess.” He lets go of your hand and bows, sweeping his arm out. “Show us who you really are.”

“Kaiser,” you whisper. “We have very clear orders-”

“I make the orders, not follow them. So make your choice, princess. Wasn’t it you who said that it is worth living a life warmed by your own choices? Tell me, then. Do you want to show them? Or do you want to play nice?”

This play, to have ego and pride dive head-first into a situation, is so very human. And yet-

You let water overcast your body from your waist, let it roll off in layers like waves into the floor. Anyone who has had experience with magic can see your ultimate control over it, how the floor isn’t wet at all, how the water was conjured from nothing. Your hair is silken with dampness, framing your face like gloss. Gasps and awes from the audience makes Kaiser grin even wider.

“There we go.” Kaiser reaches behind him to unsheath his blade, and the galaxy within swirls. He spins it in his hand, and it’s almost like he’s never been happier.

In seconds, he strikes at you. Your hands move up instinctively, blocking the blade with a stream of water. The sound it makes, divinity against divinity, is like a low bell. The floor beneath you shakes with the strength of the strike, water dispersing around your feet in cascades to cushion the impact. You hear screams of shock, a glass breaking.

“Kaiser,” you grit, but all he does is widen that wicked, quicksilver grin.

And then he laughs, stepping away and sheathing the blade back. He holds one hand out to you instead.

“Next time, I want a duel in front of everyone. But this time, I guess a dance will suffice.”

You exhale gratefully, taking his hand in yours and retracting your water. “Let us dance, then.”

And with none of a prince’s grace, with movements that feel more fight than dance, he drifts along the floor with you.

~

Isagi collapses into the booth, a palm pressed to his eyebrows. “Our allies thought they were about to fight each other.”

“Can I cash in on my bet now?” Karasu rolls a skewer stick between his fingers. “Because they might’ve almost killed each other.” 

“Nah,” Oliver leans back. “I think that’s just foreplay.” 

Isagi opens his eyes to find Chigiri and Bachira standing before the booth. Chigiri’s not meeting his eyes, his mouth perching to one side in a way that squishes one of his cheeks. 

“What happened?” 

“They’re gone.” 

“Ha?” 

“We had one drink. One.” 

Oliver has the audacity to laugh, hand over his mouth. “Don’t worry, Isagi,” he pats him on the back. “I’m sure they’re just fucking around.” 

In another corner of the hall, royals speak in low tones. 

“We can just take her if you like her,” Shidou tells Sae with the sweetest smile a man like that can muster. “No need to ask poor little Kai-Kai.” 

Sae says nothing, eyeing you quietly as you step out of the hall. 

~

You are sitting at the edge of the ocean, letting the slate-crested waves wash over you, when he finds you. 

“You can dry me in a moment’s notice if I am to sit with you, right?” He says it almost reluctantly, even though he’s here anyways. He’s dropped his off coat somewhere along the way, and there’s something so naked about seeing him in just a shirt. He almost seems softer, without the harsh lines of battle-ready clothing or the fur that drapes around him, relaxed in a way he wasn’t in the banquet hall. 

You smile. “I can keep you dry whilst you're sitting.” 

He relents, then. Allowing the strangeness of sitting on wet sand without getting wet. 

“Was the banquet up to your expectations, then, Kaiser?” 

Expectations. He’s had none of a party like this. Being allowed to dream is a privilege, and privileges were not granted to him.

“You are officially my wife-to-be,” he says instead. “Shouldn’t you call me something a little more intimate?”

You gaze out into the horizon for a moment, and something in your eyes unfocuses, like you’ve gone somewhere else and then returned. “Very well. I shall call you Mihya.”

It strikes a chord in him, like a teaspoon hitting a glass. “Mihya? Where did that come from?”

“The water.”

“She speaks to you?” 

“She says in another life, you are given a nickname like that.”

“Another life…” He lies down in the sand, watches the streaks of sunset in the blueing sky. 

“Ask then, Mihya,” you lean over him slightly, until all he can see is the sky and the way your features soften. “The question we both know is on your mind.”

He almost wants to reach out, hold your cheek in his hand. It’s a foreign feeling to him, so foreign it almost feels like unease – to want to extend a gentleness like that to another person. “Won’t you just tell me?”

You breathe in the sea-salt air, and breathe out a heart-warmed truth. “The prophecy does not hold you captive in another life.”

Kaiser, for once, lets himself dream. Of a different life, where he is unburdened by a prophecy, and burns brightly.

~

“It would seem strange if you weren’t together, with all the other guests in the palace.” That’s what Oliver tells you as he gestures for you to take his arm, leading you to Kaiser’s room. 

It’s both plainer and more furnished than you thought, like someone who isn’t him had chosen the furniture and the color of the walls. But the items in the bookshelves seem well-loved, items taken out and put back haphazardly, scrolls and books placed back half-way. The bathroom door opens with a flood of light.  

“You’re here.” It’s rare to shock Kaiser in a way that doesn’t make him immediately reach for his sword.

You turn to look at him, taking in his half-dressed state. “Were you expecting some other woman?” 

“Oh, so you’re the jealous type?” 

He almost wants to laugh at the clear discomfort on your face. Gods don’t tease, he’s guessing? 

The bed gives way to you as you take your place. “I hear it’s common for princes to take many lovers.” 

The moonlight spills over the bedsheets as the room darkens, and you summon the sword to float right above you, looking into it. He joins you, wanting to see exactly what you’re seeing. 

“It’s not a night sky.” Your voice is so soft in the blanket of night between you both. 

“Hm?” 

“Inside the sword. Your people say it looks like the night sky. It’s not. It’s a galaxy.” 

He reaches his hand out, tracing over the glass along the middle of the weapon, a silent remark for you to continue. 

“At the beginning of all worlds, the first-ever contract was made between the first-ever forces, and with it, this sword was said to be conjured out of the galaxy. And so, a part of the galaxy at the beginning of all worlds was contained in this sword.” 

The stars in the sword move within like they’re responding to your words, borne witness to all the events. But instead of watching them, you turn to him. 

“You have held and wielded a primordial piece of this world. It has allowed you to hold it, granted you its blessing.” 

Blessed. That is not a phrase Kaiser would have ever used to describe himself. But coming from you, he can almost believe it. Almost hope to have a little more than he’s ever had. 

The sword disappears with a movement of his hand, and he rolls to lean over you. Silence drops like a curtain. The only sound he knows is your breath and his. 

During a fight, his feelings can almost be mistaken for adrenaline. But even under the shadow of the moon, with the cushioned silence between you both, the way you cut straight to the truth rings like a silver bell.

He can’t hide from you. Or maybe. Maybe he’s tired of hiding at all.

He is a man who has only known war and battle, was born and bred into it. War-forged, is what they call men like him. His hands know weapons, know how to kill.

He does not know if they know how to love. And yet-

He cups your face, and drinks you in.

He kisses you with caution, like you might melt from his grasp if he held too tightly. Presses his lips against yours slowly. He runs his hand gently over your hairline as he parts from you. 

Is this okay? He wants to ask. But instead, he says: “Tell me what you want.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck, your lips brushing against yours when you answer: “You.” 

And then he kisses you like a man starved, never known by this feeling that gets caught up in his throat with every noise of yours he swallows. 

“Is this… is this what you want?” You try to ask as you part from him for air, but he presses his mouth to the space behind your ear instead, laying kisses down your neck. “Is this a decision that you are making for yourself, by your own hands? That is entirely for you?” 

That makes him stop. But when he looks at you with a surefire gaze… 

He knows it, undoubtedly. That this, for once, is his. 

“There are no lovers,” he tells you between kisses, to your shoulder, down your collarbone, to your breastbone. 

“What?” 

“I take no lovers.” He unclasps your bra, lets the material fall from his hands to cup your supple flesh. “I’ve never been princely, after all.” 

“You- Kai-” 

He runs his thumbs across both your nipples, admires how they perk up at his administrations, flitting his gaze between them and your face as he brings his mouth down over one of them. 

He presses kisses down your body, cups your heat in his hand like he’s begging you to respond, like he’s saying let me have this. The inside of your thighs is soft as cream under his calloused hands. His thumb moves along the outside of your underwear, from your slit up to your clit with his fingers pressing tentatively against the fabric until you’re grabbing at his wrist. 

“You’re so tense,” he teases, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Want me to take care of that for you?” He runs the knuckles of his hand over your clothed slit, bumping into your clit with his thumb until your breathing gets heavy, your hands gripping his shoulders. 

“Kaiser,” you breathe, and he clicks his tongue. 

“That’s not what you call me, baby. Not anymore.” 

“Mihya.” 

“Mm,” he slides his fingers into your panties from the side, a huff of breath leaves him at the wetness he finds. “Good girls get rewarded, you know?” 

Heat coils hot deep in your stomach. He can’t take the restriction, pulling your panties down and revealing your core to the cold air. He lets his slickness pool on his fingers, collects it before bringing it to your clit. It’s like a drug, watching the way your face gives way to pleasure, how your body arches into him. 

“Mihya,” you gasp again, like a chant, a prayer. Is this what the gods feel like, to be asked of? 

“Let me watch,” he says it like a demand but it aches with desperation, a thing he won’t admit outside these four walls. He presses with more confidence now, slides one finger into you, then two. There’s little resistance with the way he’s riled you up, long fingers pressing into you until he reaches something that has you making a broken moan so pretty he can’t help but tilt into it again. 

“I want to see it,” he tells you. This is something he makes happen to you, with his own hands, his own words, his own body that shares its heat with yours. That notion alone runs arousal straight through him. Your panting breath, the way your body shakes with each swipe against your clit. 

“I want to see you fall apart in my arms.” He whispers, and you respond in kind. You always do to him, don’t you? He’s been seen too surely by you, now it’s his turn. Your body tenses entirely, tightly, gripping him as he grants you reprieve. A soft whine leaves your mouth along with something like his name, and the rough pad of his thumb circles over your clit until you crash, coming around his fingers. 

He swipes a thumb over your cheek, allows himself the gentleness that he’s held back for so long with you. 

“One more, okay?”

Your eyes widen. “Mihya,” this time it’s like a warning, but the way you say his name is so breathy it has him pressing a hand over his pants. 

“Yeah, say my name just like that.” He shuffles down until his mouth is pressing to your stomach, just above your mound. Then again to the inside of your knee, trailing up until the inside of your thigh, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin there. 

“You’re-, wait, we just- I just” 

“Mm, and you’re gonna give me one more.” He kisses your clit first, like a promise, and then he laps at your core generously, from the bottom of your slit all the way to your clit, his flat tongue against the whole of you. Every drop of slick from your previous orgasm is taken in by him with each moan he makes against your core. If he had known this feeling was going to enter his life, that it would’ve felt like this, maybe he would’ve readied himself better for it. Instead, he finds himself starving at the table where it’s served. The taste of you on his tongue wraps him in a heady pleasure, but it’s every sound he takes out of you that has him pressing a little more insistently, tongue laving over you. 

“Pl-please,” your words break between gasps, and it has him lapping into your clit with more pressure. 

“I can never say no to you, can I?” he mumbles between your legs. And then he’s flipping you over, hoisting you onto your knees and skimming his hands over your rear and thighs before diving in again. Your face is pressed into the pillow, hands grabbing the sheets. Kaiser almost seems dazed as he moans into your cunt, swollen and wet like a siren’s call, hands wrapped so tightly around your plush thighs that it feels like it might bruise. 

“Let me taste,” he mutters, mouth still lodged into your cunt, like that isn’t what he’s already doing. “Come on baby, give it to me. Let me taste it on my tongue.” 

Your hole clenches and flutters around nothing as another orgasm rocks through you, your breath coming short as you break apart on his tongue with a whine. 

He flips you over again, and the look on his face takes your breath away. Your slick shimmers on his mouth as he trails his tongue over his lips, like he’s addicted, like he can’t get enough. He tilts his head with a grin so cocky that if you weren’t so blissed out you might just punch him. 

“There something you want, pretty?” He leans over you, hand to the bedpost, and how broad and tall he is becomes that much more obvious. You let yourself look, at the way his tattoo drapes over his arm, run your hands over the muscle of his torso down to his v-line. You hear a sharp intake of breath as your hand moves lower, running under his loose sleep pants to the base of his cock. 

He grabs your hand in his, bringing it over your head and circling both your wrists. “Ask.” 

“You-,” your eyes narrow and you huff at him, but it only makes him smile. “Won’t you just-” 

“Nuh-uh.” 

“I could cut you down here.” 

He drops his pants, pumping his cock once and then sliding it along your slit. “You could. And then who’ll give you what you want?” 

You want to roll your eyes, but then he has one hand tapping against your clit, the other gripping either side of your cheeks. 

“You begged so pretty for me earlier when I had my mouth on you,” he rasps. “What happened to that?” 

The harsh look you give him under those fluttering lashes of yours makes something stir in his gut, arousal shot through his veins, pupils wide. He plays with you, warm hands against your skin and between your legs, the soft skin of his cock sliding between your thighs until you’re gasping in his hold again, grinning like a battle won. 

“Please, Mihya,” you sigh. 

“Mhmm. Please what?” 

“Please- please fuck me.” 

He gets off on it, watching you yield to him, spreading your legs, dripping your hot slick onto his cock. He presses the head against you, petaled folds opening up to receive him as he slides into you slowly. Just the first few inches is so thick inside of you that your hands wrap around the muscles of his arms, nails digging in. 

“Shh, baby, you can take it,” he hushes your little whines, tracing your hairline with such gentleness it contradicts the way he pulls out of you just slightly only to push in again. 

“You’re- oh,” your body gives into him, even more so when he brings his hand down to tap on your clit, his mouth over your neck, to the side of your mouth, until he’s kissing you and taking in every noise you make. It’s almost a distraction, helps your body to relax so he can press into you deeper. You think you feel every inch as it enters you, all the way until the hilt, until the head is pressing deep inside of you and his hips meet yours.  

He lets out a rough, deep moan against the expanse of your neck, breath coming short as your walls tighten around him. 

“Fuck, baby. You gotta let me move.” Your arms wrap around him tighter, a whimper falling from your lips as he tilts his hips up to plunge into you again. It’s hard and slow and deep and if it wasn’t for his grip on you, you might’ve hit the headboard. But he’s careful about it – more than you might’ve thought he’d be. Pressing your body into the bed as his hips meet yours again and again. 

“It feels so good,” you tell him, and it has him pressing a kiss to your cheek in return. Makes every moan you make that much sweeter, to know it’s out of your pleasure, to know it’s because of him. 

“Good girl. Tell me again.” 

“Feels- you’re so big, so- please, I need-” Your walls can barely clench down onto him with how he feels inside of you. Chest to chest with him, the contact of skin on skin-

“You drive me insane,” he grumbles it into your skin; a confession, exacerbated with each thrust of his hips as he picks up the speed, until he’s slamming into you with a kind of strength that has you seeing constellations behind your eyes. He wants you- needs you to feel the way he feels. Needs to have you lying in his bed, thinking only of him and how he makes you feel. Heat pools in your core until you’re arching your back, and he knows it now – knows it like the back of his hand. 

“Give it to me.” It’s a command, a need, if you listen closely enough. “Come around my cock. Show me.” 

“Mihya, it’s so much, it’s so so much.” It’s treacherous, the way it works through your body, being on the brink. 

His thumb is slick over your clit, pressing just a little more, until your thighs are tightening under his unrelenting body. “Come for me.” 

You chant his name until the words start to become nothing in your mouth, until you’re breathless, until your whole body tenses under him and his hold against you gets that much rougher and your walls clamp down and then your body shakes as you come. You almost scream, only silenced by his lips on yours. He comes quickly after that, his eyes never leaving yours, taking in how you look underneath him as his cock gets more sensitive and paints the inside of your walls. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow until he feels your body start to relax under his. 

You can barely process coming down as he’s kissing you again, deeply and with force, like he’s etching the memory of you into his mind and onto your lips. 

For once, he lets himself recognize – how tiring the emptiness has been, to be devoid of this feeling and instead be filled with the fear that it’ll be turned against him. For once, he lets himself feel – to have something that is wholly his. to know and be known. To give and know you will receive. Not an offering at an altar but a hand in his, not a prayer but a soft word spoken in return. Kaiser does not want something as untouching as approval or attention from the divine. But he does want your waist in his arms, your forehead against his.

“Just like this,” he whispers it, a kiss placed to your forehead. You don’t know what he means, too tired to ask. 

This is exactly what he’s always wanted. Just like this. 

~

Not unlike a parent, Noa notices the closeness of your relationship. In touch, in stolen glances, in longing. A private conversation with him over afternoon tea is not unique, but the heaviness that weighs on him is. 

“As the goddess who cannot lie, I have to ask you.” The hardened look on his face makes you straighten your back, putting down your teacup. “You know, that I have to ask.”

Silence sits between you both like a shoe about to drop. 

Noa yields. “Has he truly been forsaken by all the gods?”

You are strangely silent as you look at him, then away, then back. 

“Answer me, demigod.”

“I don’t know.”

“What?”

“I. Don’t. Know. I have told you before, that I am not a seer, or an oracle. Water holds memory. I can see the past, I can even see other lives parallel to ours, but I cannot see the future. This is the limit of my power.”

“You are of divine nature.” 

“I had said what I said at our first meeting, and that has not changed. As long as I am here, the Gods have not forsaken him. For I have not forsaken him. Is that not enough? How many Gods would travel to your realm, vow themselves to a human kingdom? Even if it is I alone that stands before you, is that not enough?”

Noa sighs, more exasperated than you’ve ever seen a serious man like him. “He deserves more, that boy. For what he has been put through.”

“All greatness comes with a price. All heroes face tragedy. He, no matter how much you may care for him, is not the exception to that.” You tilt your head, like a cat with curiosity. But unlike that sweetness, your words are cutting. “You made him a ruler. You made him a hero. So, stand by that. Or does it make you uncomfortable? To consider the role you, too, have played in his life?”

Noa, of course, has thought about this too. Had he not chosen Kaiser to rule, would he have had the prophecy weighing on him like a second shadow? 

“If the prophecy holds true, you will inevitably leave him.” Noa swallows, hand flat against the table. “He will inevitably be forsaken, even by you.”

“Then why,” you ask, genuinely, “did you ask me to stay?”

~

In the weeks that follow, you learn exactly why. Like Kaiser had predicted, talk of battle comes. 

“We suspect a neighboring nation wishes to wage war with us.” Noa looks out to the slate-blue ocean from the window of the war room. 

“A man who wants control of this whole world,” Karasu huffs. “There’s never a lack of them, is there?”

“He thinks himself a god. Or that’s what Sae has told us.” 

“You’re sure Sae’s information checks out?” 

“Shidou and Otoya like to visit neighboring nations for uh… fun, let’s say,” Chigiri rolls his eyes, then plants his face in his hands. “He said something along the lines of “you don’t wanna know how they found out” and “Shidou sleeps with both men and women, so it’s been cross-checked too.”” 

“And then we asked him about war,” Isagi throws his notes down on the table. “He said, and I quote, ‘I already have more land than I know what to do with. What could another few acres give me? What a hassle.’” 

“The enemy are bold to come for us first.” Kaiser frowns considerably. They are possibly the one nation blasphemous enough that would not blink at the thought of fighting a god. “There’s something we’re not seeing.”

Isagi nods in agreement. “We still don’t know the reason they’re coming here first. It could be the sword, or the goddess.” Isagi frowns. “I told you not to make a scene at the banquet.”

Kaiser gives him a curious look with a smile he fails to hide. “The point of a banquet is to wow the people. The people were wowed, were they not?” 

“It could be, it could not be,” Noa kills the conflict there. “That information would have been made public regardless of the spectacle. It could even simply be the throne itself they seek. An army like ours could parade into the neighboring nations and lay waste, our people are used to much harsher weathers.” 

“Or maybe he means to make a statement,” Karasu shrugs. “If he wants to be a god, maybe he means to punish the disrespect we’ve shown.” 

“What do we actually know?” Chigiri taps the map of this nation splayed across the table.

“We know he wants to take control of this world, and we know his plan includes something from us.” 

“He knows once he controls the world, he has to take care of it, right?” Oliver rests his jaw in his hand. “As in, it’s not just about buying the house, it’s about cleaning it too. The plan – it has to be bigger than this, no?” 

“Won’t happen once we kill him here. So as far as we know, there are three things we have that he could want: the sword, the goddess, the army.” Chigiri holds up his fingers as he counts. 

“So we’ll meet him with all three at the front lines. Fear does not wield us, after all. Only strength.” Kaiser says it like a mantra. You suspect it might be exactly that. 

~

“What a pleasant surprise to see you again so soon, princess.” 

As an ally, Sae arrived on the day of battle without question. He is much different from the first time you saw him, chainmail armor wraps tight and sleek around his body, clearly of a weight underneath his clothing. He stands straighter, shoulders broader, badges clipped to his outer jacket. It’s clear to anyone who looks at him, that it’s almost like he was born into them – meant for them. 

“You’re both on the front lines then?” 

“Idle hands,” Kaiser starts.

“Devil’s workshop.” You finish. You hear a horse galloping, then a voice. 

“There’s something wrong.” The people give a wide berth as Oliver arrives, with a sleek black mare that’s obedient as can be. “The majority of the enemies’ troops are not in front of us.” 

All of you turn to look, but it’s on the front lines that makes it most difficult to tell where the crowd begins and ends. 

“I did a rough head count from the tower. This isn’t the count we had observed just the other day. They’ll die easily, like this, against us. And I don’t mean that from an egotistical standpoint. I think these men are here to die, meant to die. It serves to mean –” 

“This is a distraction.” 

Karasu appears at your side, with an utmost silence only he is capable of. “They’re headed for the main castle, from around the edge of the border.” 

You and Kaiser look to each other with a whole silent conversation, and Sae sighs. 

“Go on, then.” 

You turn to Sae immediately, with a seriousness he doesn’t expect. “You’ll be unprotected.” 

“We chopped liver to you, girl?” Shidou sneers. 

Oliver drops down from his horse. “I’ll take over here.” 

“Your care for me is truly touching, princess,” Sae’s voice lilts touchingly, almost revealing how much he likes it. “But you swore a vow to this kingdom, so go fulfill it.” 

Even in the middle of a war, it gets Kaiser all worked up, his chin jutting as you both run back to the palace. But Sae understands duty, stands by it. It’s what makes him worthy of his own title in his own kingdom. 

Oliver waits until you’re both out of sight before turning to Sae. “Did you really plan to steal her?” 

“Well,” Sae shrugs. “Did you plan on letting her go so easily?” 

~

Your water runs in cascading waves through the whole of the palace, like the ocean itself comes rushing through the walls. It knocks all the soldiers down as you and Kaiser run through, and he picks up any stragglers with ease.  

“The throne room?” Kaiser slams the hilt of his sword into the guy behind him, and he collapses instantly. 

“It is the safest room.” 

“That makes no sense. If you knew anything about our people, you’d know we never hide ourselves there in a battle.” 

“Go anyways,” you tell him, as another man gets thrown off his feet. “Go, Kaiser!” 

He takes one final look at you, at the strength that you hold in your hands, and then he runs. 

The man he finds sitting on the throne has black hair cut blunt to his chin, a white mask over one side of his face. Kaiser unsheathes his sword, pointed straight and true. 

“That throne doesn’t belong to you.” 

“It will. Along with that sword you’re holding.” 

Kaiser chuckles, the kind that has madness interlaced in it. “If you wanted the sword so bad, you could’ve asked for a one-on-one combat duel. I haven’t had a satisfying fight in a long time, I’d be happy to lay the sword as a winning prize.” 

What must be the man’s most elite fighters drop down from the ceiling, crowding in on all sides. 

“Ah, I see,” Kaiser stands straighter, reaching behind him to unsheath his second sword. “It is your capabilities that do not match mine.”

When they come for him, it’s clear to even the heavens that he is exactly as he is fated – a force to be reckoned with. He moves like a spider-spun silken web, capturing each of them blow by blow. His swords cut like butter through them with impressive speed and strength. His breath comes fast and hard when he finishes, sweat dripping down his back. 

“I see now, prince,” the man approaches him, and it’s closer up that he realizes he’s simply in a suit, no armor. “Why they praise you, despite your blasphemy. You, a prince famous for cursing divinity at a whim’s notice, are a powerful ally. Kneel before me, then, and I’ll cease this all – let you join our cause in a war against the gods, in stealing their divinity from them. I’ll even forgive this transgression of bedding one.” 

“Me? Kneel?” The canned laugh that Kaiser lets out echoes. “I kneel to no god, let alone a man who wants to become one.” 

“So be it, then.” 

Kaiser hears something above him. By the gods, what’s with this guy and ceilings? Is that why he wants to fight here? A dust of something shimmers down, he pulls his cloak over himself- 

From the doorway, you throw your water across the room, shielding Kaiser from whatever it may have been. And in the same moment, a poof of shimmer bursts over your own head and tumbles down around you. 

“That’s the problem with you gods, isn’t it? You always think you’re infallible.” 

You cough, falling to one of your knees. Dread fills inside of you, like a faucet you can’t turn off. You can’t move. How is that possible? 

The man taps two fingers to the top of your head, and your world goes dark.

~

When you blink your eyes open, the first thing you’re aware of is the way your vision swims. Your mind feels clouded, stuffed with cotton. You press your palm to your head, and even that feels muted. 

“I’ve made her mine now. She’ll do exactly what I say. Does that make you upset?” Is what you think you hear, through the ringing of your ears. “Let’s see you put that god-killing sword to good use then, shall we?” 

“It’s. Magic.” You spit out the words as your hands press into the ground. Your legs cramp from the way you’re forcing them to stay down. “Mihya. Run, please.” 

“Awh, worried about me?” Kaiser teases as he logs the odds. There is no water that swirls around you, so it begs to reason – you can’t call it. The only weapon you have is a dagger. 

Kaiser tilts his head until his neck cracks. “Have some faith in me, princess. I’m not afraid, even against you.”

He breathes, in and out, until the calmness of battle seeps into him, raises his sword pointed right at you. “I’ll win, even against you.” 

And then he reveals that cocky, surefire smirk. “You should worry more about not dying yourself.” 

When you launch at him, it is without mercy, makes him realize how your kindness seeps into the way you fight. His weapon is bigger, larger, and he uses it to keep you at arm’s length, to wrap around towards the enemy. But he sees his problem almost immediately. Like a puppet on strings, you’re protecting the enemy. 

He knows it, the moment the prophecy solidifies into place in his mind. That feeling of being lost on a path, gone with the reigning down a light. The final puzzle piece in the picture. 

You will die by the hands of the one you love most. So, it truly was this feeling, after all. Love. An aching thing, something so undoing. An open wound that can only be tendered by you. 

For once, the prophecy is not a curse but a guiding starlight. He corners you with strike after strike, until you’re as close as can be to the enemy. And then he approaches you with no defense, lets you strike at him. In the same breath, his sword lands behind you and takes off the enemy’s head. 

None of the fight felt as clear as this moment, when your blade presses into his heart. 

He collapses, right in front of the throne with you on top of him. The throne that should be undoubtedly his, belonging to him as heir. Tears fall from your face before your mind can clear. Like you know, soul to soul, as his lifeform slips through your fingers. He brings his hand to cup your cheek, as he had wanted to do when you laid like this above him in the sand. 

“I did not expect a death so gentle for myself.” 

His smile is so bittersweet that it aches all the way to the bottom of your heart. His hand slips down from your face as you finally come to. 

“You will not die on me.” You gasp out, a statement said with so much conviction that the silver bell of truth rings in return. You call to your water immediately, a stream so fast it cuts into your skin but you don’t care. 

A magic that can only be done once. You take the divine sword from the ground, aim the blade carefully at yourself – your own soul. Only this sword can make a cut like this, with the hand of the divine. You slice your wrist, and instead of blood, pure golden lifeforce pours out. 

You separate your divinity from yourself, and you feed it to him. It will not turn him divine. You are only half-divine yourself, after all. What you can give is not nearly enough to turn a man into a God. But it will hold his soul in this world, let you do an unspeakable magic: an exchange of divine power for life, a process long enough for the water to heal his heart back together again. The hand you lay against his mouth shakes more and more with each second that your golden blood pours into him, but your other hand lays steady as ever over his heart, until you feel it beat once, twice. Hear him spurt out a breath. 

You collapse on top of him before you can see him open his eyes. 

~

“I see the prophecy has been completed.” 

When Kaiser wakes, there’s a split second where he thinks he might’ve just ended up wherever souls go at the end of their line. There’s what must be a full-fledged goddess standing right over him. It’s only your warm body splayed across his chest that tells him otherwise. His hands are lightning quick, sitting up and moving to your neck to check your pulse, only exhaling and relaxing once he feels it. 

Golden threads extend down the sleeves of the goddess’ arms. He’s seen the paintings. Fate itself stands before him. 

“How could you do this?” He makes his disdain clear, lacking any respect one might give to the queen of the gods herself. 

“I am sorry.” She answers immediately, and that makes Kaiser’s eyes widen just slightly. “Your grievances, you may relay them to me, if you wish. There is a bigger picture at play here, bigger than you or the water sorceress or even myself. The threads of fate are not woven selfishly.” 

“You gods up in your clouds play with the lives of mortals. That has always been written in history. But to her? To one of your own?”

“She is more one of mine than most. The heir to the throne of the Gods, I would’ve entrusted her with my life. It’s why she complies with Fate in every life, without complaint.”

“So she lends you her loyalty, and you take advantage of her. And you dare put yourselves above us?” 

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown. Heavy too, are my hands, that weave the golden threads. You and her are one of many that have suffered by my hand. For that, there is no apology I can give. What I can give, well… Would you like to hear your full prophecy, prince?”

Lone Emperor who covets the throne, You will die by the hands of the one you love most. Forsaken by all the Gods but one, Re-emerge, awaken, as the ruler you are meant to become.

In any other circumstance, he would be eager as ever to finally hear the full prophecy. But his eyes are only on you, your slumbering state as he holds you in his arms. 

“What will become of her?” He asks quietly. 

“She will be a water sorceress, as she had initially been.” 

“She will die, then? Like a human does?”

“All things die, hero.” Hero. That’s what he is now, having been trial-passed. The title burns like bourbon down his throat. “Even the divine dies. But yes, she will die as a human, and be reborn again as the cycle permits.” 

“A life of such simplicity is not befitting of a woman like her.” 

“Who says it would be simple? Besides, she has gone through the trial of the divine once before. Don’t you have faith she could do it again?” 

The trial of the divine. He had not known such a thing prior to you. But if anyone could pass it, it would be you. 

“I will make her my wife. I care little for the words or respect of the gods, even a queen like yourself. But it is my duty to inform you. If she will have me, I will wed her as has been planned.” 

“The prophecy is complete. What happens now is too inconsequential for me to put effort into. However…” she watches you, teartracks streaked down your cheeks. “I’m quite fond of her. I hope for her an easy life.” 

In a blink, her form disappears. 

“Kaiser!” Oliver’s voice echoes through the halls, taking big leaps with Noa to his side, skidding to a halt when he finally finds you both. 

“The goddess-” 

“She lives,” Kaiser cups your head into his chest. “Though she is goddess no more. A trade. Not a fair one by any means.” His thumb traces across your cheek, a state of his so vulnerable it renders Oliver speechless. 

Noa approaches the threshold where Oliver does not dare. He rests his hand on the crown of Kaiser’s head. “Another chance at life is the greatest gift, and she has granted you as such. That is a debt you’ll never be able to repay her for..” 

“I’ll spend the rest of my life trying, then.” 

~

It’s only in the aftermath, that you find out how deep in you truly were.

Kaiser takes a big inhale of the winter air. It’s fresh and cold. And with him, the nation breathed a breath anew, and the trial laid in ashes under his feet.

You’re facing the horizon of the sea when he finds you. 

In the catch of the light, sometimes he swears he sees the divinity that had shimmered off of you before. It’s almost hard to believe, with the ring of water that floats around you, that it had ever left you at all. 

“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, as it always is with you now. 

“Relearning the water.”

“What does it say?”

“That I am still its mistress. Still a sorceress,” the water around you drops into the wet sand. “That its loyalty with me is not dependent on divinity.”

He places a hand to the back of your neck, easing out the tensions there. “But?”

You smile weakly. “I have to strain to hear her now.”

“Guess we can’t do that spectacle again for our wedding.” He cracks a smile, something to ease the ache. “Water holds memory, right?” 

“That, it does.” 

He grabs your hand, pulling you up and towards the waves. You yell for him, but the ocean crashes loudly around you both, and he drags you into the water anyways. Once you’re deep in enough that the waves drape over your knees, he pulls you in close. 

“Let her bear witness, then.” He whispers it against your lips, brushing your hair away from your face. He kisses you, deep and with so much heart you might burst from it. 

A prophecy unfolded, a fate changed, a life saved. 

There’s a part of you that can feel an oncoming future. A sheathing that can block even the eyes of Gods. God-killing weapons that have descended from the heavens themselves. A potion that can cause madness in the minds of the divine. A war between mortals and Gods is coming, you’re sure of it. 

But not in this life. In this life, you are a water sorceress, and he is a trial-passed hero. And like in every life, you find your way back to each other, every time. 

author's note: ohmygod THANK YOU FOR READING PLEASE tell me what you think!!! this is my longest fic ever so i really hope you enjoyed

extended author's note -- know that this is an incredibly realistic note about the perception of love that will take you out of the fantasy lovey-dovey space. it's a disclaimer for the parts of the fic i romanticize and how u should not romanticize them in real life, as well as some notes about kaiser's characterization if you're interested

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition)

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus (+ maybe the other MLs!) and an oblivious player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, maybe some suggestive language?? will add more tags as the story progresses A/N: This is gonna be a multi-chapter fic! I’m still not sure whether to do the boys in rotation, or just focus on one ML per series. Don’t take my word for it atp tho – I’m not even sure if I can actually finish a series lol.  Also, I’ve had the creative liberty of changing stuff from the actual gameplay here and there. (Except for the self-awareness. That’s most definitely real.) Hope you enjoy~!

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10 - Epilogue

It’s a quarter past eight and you’re still on your desk working overtime on a Friday night. 

You let out a big sigh, leaning back on your office chair after an unhealthy duration of bad posture from hours of slouching down in front of your computer. There’s nothing ergonomic about the way this job is killing you, and the ache in your lower back can attest to that. 

An irate orange tabby plops himself in front of you, blocking your view of the glaring screen and you figure that it’s time for a break. 

“Me-oow.”

“I know, I know,” You answer tiredly, standing up to dodge a stray paw clawing your way and you hear cracks in three different places that are honestly unbecoming of a woman your age. You haven’t even reached thirty yet, for god’s sake. “I’m a bad mother. But mom also had to skip dinner to make it to the seven PM meeting, so cut me some slack, okay?” 

A high-pitched “meooowr!” is the only response you get; it seems like there’s no excusing late dinner time this time around. 

As much as you’d like to hem and haw and complain, the main reason why you’re still keeping this job is because you can work remotely. If it weren’t for the fact that you’re stuck most days at home working hours past your regular nine to five, having to be on-call around the clock at all times, and that you’ve consumed more sodium than a nitrite victim with the way you live off cup ramen, then, really, it beats working in an office where you’d physically have to clock in and out from exactly nine to five. 

Your right eye twitches. No, I have not fallen in love with the system that exploits me, thank you very much. 

“Here is your Fancy Feast, your highness,” you tell the hungry feline who’s already ignoring the hand that feeds for the bowl full of white fish paté. He eats healthier than you, sure, but you work like this for him to eat like this. The life of a single mom is an uphill battle, but extremely rewarding. 

You raise your hand to pat your son’s head lovingly, aborting the gesture halfway when you hear a warning growl. Alright, tough crowd. 

After nuking a half-eaten takeout box in the microwave and grabbing a cold Bundaberg from the fridge, you hunker down on the “chaise lounge” (see: an old wingback and a rattan ottoman you’ve refurbished as a makeshift seat a few weeks back when you had guests over) for a late meal. 

You barely register the taste of lukewarm rice on your tongue, mouth moving mechanically while your mind runs on autopilot about everything and nothing at the same time. 

Maybe it’s time to check Jobstreet again

Is there like a laundromat near the area that’s open twenty four seven

Eugh, I hate cold peas

What do we feel about Chromakopia? 

I will… die alone

I really need to stock on some fresh produce this weekend—

Ping! 

A notification from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts—and like a well-trained dog pavlov’d into responding, you visibly perk up at the sight of your lock screen lighting up and the familiar banner you’ve already memorized by heart. 

Your Galaxy Explorer rewards are here. Did you put my hotel’s address as the shipping address? 

Ah, just like clockwork. 

You press on it with a quiet, bubbling anticipation, chewing on the plastic spork as you wait impatiently for the silly mobile game that’s been your short respite at intervals—for more than you’d care to admit—to boot up. 

Offhandedly, you wish that the devs would add more variations to the game’s push notifications; more random, personalized stuff like maybe a reminder to drink water, or a fun update about their day. What you’d give–pay–for a: "Less on the overtime, kitten. I miss you,” dialogue from a certain character, but you digress. 

Oh, well. Probably better this way, lest you dig yourself deeper into delusion. 

The game greets you with the usual picturesque view of a silver-haired man sitting cross-legged on a chair, looking all the bit at ease in his signature crimson and white button up. The warm ambience of the Destiny Café at night draws you in, already pulling your attention away from the never-ending stream of thoughts in your brain. 

“Before seeing you, I thought today would be another dull day,“ Sylus comments airily. The way he drawls out the words in that deep timbre of his voice never fails to make your heart flutter – just a teeeensy bit.

“Ever the charmer,” you sigh happily in return, situating yourself more comfortably on the sofa, almost horizontal from how far you’re leaning back on the cushion. “You’re looking awfully normal tonight. What, no pineapple glasses for your favorite girl?” 

Having bypassed the initial cringe of talking to yourself after literal months of gameplay, it almost comes off natural, the banter. You’ve already accepted the fact that you’re crazy about a fictional, pixelated man—what’s pretending to have actual conversations with him gonna do? It’s not as if he actually hears you yap your nonsense; there are worse things in the world than a parasocial attachment to an otome game character. 

Your little jab at the sometimes random addition to his choice of attire earns you a laugh from the man himself—or at least it looks as though it does, making you blink momentarily in surprise. Happy coincidence, I guess.

You shake your head, cracking a smile, then proceed to do the routine of completing the daily agenda and then some. 

It’s tedious business, sure. You’ve dedicated hours upon hours on this game and you’re honestly starting to feel pretty bored with some of the gameplay elements, but you *do* like the ritualistic nature of ticking off the tasks one by one. It’s almost ironic— the way you dutifully do one thing after the other in this game, just to avoid the pile of work that’s waiting for you in real life. 

It’s not as if anything, or anyone’s relying on you to do your daily log-ins, so you suppose it’s due to that lack of pressure as well. 

Pulling yourself away from the five-star Xavier memory card you’ve grinded to level seventy, you stare despondently at the sad little 2 on your remaining energy. The embarrassing amount of materials you lack to ascend the card seem to mock you, even as you exit the Memories window. Another goal for another day, perhaps.

All tasks on the daily agenda are complete, except for one that you’ve always saved for last.

You’re met with a standing Sylus on the game’s home screen, arms crossed and wearing an expression you’d almost describe as impatient, if you didn’t know any better. The sight makes you grin. 

Cheekily, you poke his crotch.

You’re looking forward to getting a playful remark, or if you’re lucky, a blush along with an embarrassed retort about your shamelessness. 

 What you get, however, is a resounding scoff. Your eyes snap back to his face – from, ahem, your prolonged staring at the area below his waist – and you do see the familiar tinge of pink on his cheeks, but what he says in response catches you off-guard.

“You spend that much resource for a card that isn’t mine?” Sylus tsks, both his voice and expression coming across as… affronted? “Kitten, I’m actually hurt.” 

Huh?

You haven’t heard that line from him before. Was there a recent update you weren’t aware of? The man in question then appears to look amused, from the way you’ve been rendered speechless by the unexpected dialogue. 

All at once, you gasp when you realize what the new response means. 

“That’s so smart,” you say giddily. You see Sylus cock his head to the side, synchronously quirking an eyebrow—expectant. “They actually added a feature that lets them know which memory I’ve upgraded last, and make you react to it. Oh, that’s so cool!” 

If you weren’t too busy being excited over what you think is a new update from the game,  you’d see the chagrined look on Sylus’ face. But when you glance back at him, all trace of the emotion is gone before you could notice anything different. 

“Don’t worry, Crow Man. You’re still my favorite,” you assure him, making his mouth tick upwards in a semblance of a smile. He looks pleased all of the sudden, his demeanor shifting into something more relaxed.

Then a pout forms on your face. You crinkle your nose in frustration as you complain, “It’s just really hard to level your cards up at this point. It takes ages and a shit ton of energy just to level you up past seventy five.” Sighing, you add, kind of bitterly, “And I’m too broke to be spending money on growth packs.” 

Checking the time on your phone, you see that you’ve already spent more than an hour on your self-imposed break time and you know that you ought to get back to work soon. With a groan, you pull yourself to sit upright, savoring the last few minutes of free time before you slave off for the rest of the night. 

You’re about to clean up what’s left of dinner when you notice the oddly thoughtful look on Sylus’ face. 

There’s a deep furrow in his brows as he brings a hand up to cover his mouth. He closes his eyes shut for a few seconds. He's never done that gesture before... Ugh, he looks really hot–

Suddenly, you see a flicker—then a weird, sort of graphic distortion happening in the background. Uh, what??

A beat; then a glitch on the screen. “Ah, shit.” 

The game crashes.

You exhale loudly as the game’s interface goes back to the loading screen, tapping your thumb impatiently as the bar slowly loads to 15%... 50%..... 81%....... 

“Maybe make sure to patch up first before releasing an update next time, jeez—huh?” 

For a quick second, nothing seems to be amiss. But then the first thing you see on the home screen is Sylus’ figure standing before you, wearing an expression one could only describe as a cat that ate the proverbial canary. 

He speaks— and it’s another intro you haven’t heard him say, ever. 

“You should’ve told me sooner, sweetie,” he almost coos the words out, making your eyes bug out in shock. 

“Now, why don’t you go check your–” he pauses, and his mouth moves as if he’s rolling the word out, testing it. “Inventory?” 

Sylus slides his gaze towards the upper left corner of the screen, a coy smirk still ever-present on his face. 

There, you see something you haven’t noticed earlier: two notification badges. One on your mailbox, and another on the Hunter’s Info tab. Bewildered, you press on the mail icon first, despite the insistence for you to start with the latter. 

You see a new message: [For You]

A small gift, to bridge our worlds closer. – S 

Nothing is attached to it. You read it twice, perplexed.  

“You’re quite the contradictorian, aren’t you?” Sylus tuts as soon as you return back to the home screen, his gaze boring into you even when he tilts his head sideways in mock exasperation. “Mmm, I suppose it doesn’t matter. Take all the time you need, sweetheart.” 

Helplessly, you open your inventory next. 

Your jaw drops. 

“What. The fuck,” You whisper to yourself, voice wavering in disbelief at what you’re seeing, and the sheer amount of what you’re seeing. “This—this can’t be real.” 

You see that all the materials you own, from the bottle of wishes to the ascension crystal boxes, have been multiplied a hundred times over.

And on top of that–

Ninety nine thousand red dias????

You cannot believe how this—this recent… update (or is it a bug? Infold sure isn’t this generous) didn't make the news. Even as someone as uninvolved as you are with the community and the game’s latest releases, something like this for sure would’ve made headlines on Twitter (X), at least. But you haven’t heard anything. Nada. 

Holy shit. 

You feel a little light-headed, both from incredulity and excitement. Needing a moment to calm yourself down, you exit the Inventory tab in a daze.

You stare at Sylus. He stares back at you with what looks to be mirth in his eyes. 

Skeptically, you mutter, “did–did I get hacked or something?” 

Anticipating another unexpected dialogue to prompt up, you wait for a full minute without saying anything else. And for a moment, the man in front of you looks indecisive, contemplative. 

There’s something very odd, very… human in the way he’s looking at you. He looks as if– as if he’s—

His face falls back into a neutral expression. Not unlike how his idle animation usually looks. 

..

…

….. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to initiate a conversation any time soon, so you hesitantly poke him on the nose. 

“Even in the worst-case scenario, there’s no need to panic.”

You’ve heard that one before.

So he’s back to normal now. You temper the small disappointment that blooms in your gut. 

Shaking your head slowly, you try to make sense of all the stuff that just happened, but a sharp bite on your ankle pulls you out of your reverie. 

“Ow–!” The sight of your cat flopping near your feet reminds you of the time. More importantly, the backlogs waiting for you at your desk. 

“Wait, shit– I gotta get back to work.” This… unbelievable stroke of good luck (?) is gonna have to take a backseat for now.

You grab the carton box and the half-empty bottle of sparkling peach as you stand up. Making quick work of throwing the container in the trash and gulping down the rest of your drink, you rush into your room and back in front of your PC. 

Cracking your knuckles, you gingerly set your phone against the monitor. Setting the timer to one hour in Quality Time, knowing fully-well that you’re going to have to keep extending it until the wee hours of the morning—or until your battery dies, whichever comes first—you give Sylus one last look, letting out a long exhale before locking in.

“Just keep me company for the night, alright? I’ll figure out what’s going on once my shift’s over.” 

-

It could just be your overactive imagination, but you swear you hear a quiet chuckle from the man polishing his gun in your peripheral.

[bbokicidal]

"What Happens When..." | [SKZ] OT8 | [I.N]

Everyone decides to take a guess what Jeongin's girlfriend's favorite thing to do in the bedroom is - and almost everyone gets it wrong.

Genre: Smut [18+ MDNI] Pairing: Jeongin x Fem!Reader Warnings: SPIT, lots of spit, PinV (wrap it before you tap it), tummy bulge/size kink, manhandling, bondage/hands being bound together, pussy spanking, spanking in general

Notes: This IS a short fic and isn't anything really long. There's no plot - it's purely smut for your viewing pleasure and my mental peace, lol. <- This is the last installment of this series !! It's finally coming to an end.~

Word Count: 2.2K

Bangchan | Lino | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | I.N

"Why does Hyunjin get to go first?" "Because he's already between her legs, I guess."

"Would you two shut up? This is all for educational purposes. You need to watch and learn; Because I'm about to prove to you that I know what her biggest kink is." Hyunjin's head whips to face the two that bicker about him, Jisung stepping back and Felix letting his arms cross over his chest. "Ayen-ah's let on before that she really likes this one." His thumb finds your clit, flicking over the bundle of nerves and you finally give him a soft reaction to work with, your eyes slipping shut and hands curling against your chest in awe.

Felix lets out a heavy breath that ends in a soft whine, his head tipping to the side to get a better look at where his Hyung's cock begins to prod at your folds - and Felix can't help but stare as he slowly sinks into your warmth, wishing it were himself instead. "That's not fair.."

"So what exactly is the kink here...? Or is this just one big excuse to fuck your friend's girlfriend?" Chris quips off to Hyunjin's right, peering almost just over his shoulder to watch as the younger's cock sinks further into you. ".. Going in raw?" He questions shortly after, realizing Hyunjin hadn't slipped a condom on before pushing into you.

And Hyunjin sighs, tongue prodding at the corner of his mouth as he listens to the others continue to bicker about him just wanting to have sex with you.

But then Jisung sees it.

The way your skin tightens; The way your stomach bulges each time Hyunjin slowly rolls his hips forward. The way your head tips back as he leans down over you and whispers for you to feel it, guiding one of your hands away from your chest to instead press down on the very place his cock prods and rocks against. "..Bulging..." He whispers, lips parted in surprise at the sight in front of them.

"That's.. a pretty close second." Jeongin hums. He sits back against the headboard as he watches his Hyung rock into you slowly; He was lucky he got to fuck you at all - with Jeongin's permission of course - so he was going to do it with the utmost care. "But that's definitely not top spot."

Jisung practically barks from where he stands behind Hyunjin, reaching to tug on his shoulder. "I knew that wasn't going to be it-! Move, it's my turn." And to many of their surprise, the artist lets himself be pulled away from your sweetness.

Just as expected, Jisung moves forward instead to test his theory. If he could get this right with his one guess he would win the bet. And the prize... God, he's never imagined something so wonderful in his entire life. One hand drops to lay on your thigh while the other reaches to undo his belt - and he watches your eyes widen in surprise at his bold move, thinking he'd won already. Your lips pop apart and you're sure you're about to drool at the way his fingers curl around the buckle and rip it wide open, his belt dragging through the loops of his jeans in such a quick and slick manner that you're sure this is a practiced move. With your reaction he was sure he just ended the bet.

Jeongin almost moves to ask Jisung what he's going to do with that belt, hoping there's no impact about to be made with the accessory - but he simply sits up and stays quiet as he watches Jisung wrap the thick, heavy leather around your wrists to keep them snug together. Your soft gasp of anticipation feeds into Jisung's delusion that he was winning the bet, letting him pin your arms down above your head before he leans in to smile right in your face. "You like bondage, don't you, angel?"

And your smile grows, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you nod. "I do; I really, really do. But..." Jisung's heart sinks as you giggle. "It's not my favorite."

"Hah!" Changbin's laugh basically spews from his lips in a visual syllable, his arms previously crossed over his chest now gesturing to Jisung to skidaddle. "Go. She said you lost the bet so get off 'er and let someone else have a turn." His lips pull into a soft smirk, parted and exposing the way his tongue pokes between his teeth like he has ideas of his own to try out.

But someone else is just a tad quicker with wanting to win the bet. As soon as Jisung moves off of the bed in front of you to go sit beside Jeongin in defeat, Minho is right there to take his place; Only he doesn't crawl onto the bed to get to you and instead stands at the edge of it, feeling as though he looms over your still-bound body displayed for them so openly atop the sheets.

Your wrists stay above your head as you crane your neck to look at the man standing so close yet so far, only to have your head bounce back against the mattress from the force of Minho's hand locking around your right ankle tight enough you're sure it might bruise. He wastes no time in dragging you to where he stands so he's properly positioned between your legs, his eyes dark as they drag over every curve that comes to him so swiftly. And no one in the room can ignore the way you yelp at the feeling of being manhandled.

Calloused palms and rough fingertips run up the outer expanse of your thighs, coming nowhere near close to your warmth as they wander higher. He grips at your hips and gives them a teasing squeeze, feeling the way your skin presses between his fingers; So soft, so tempting. With careful but fairly stiff and rough movements, the muscle in his biceps tightens and flexes as he flips you from your back to your front - your face down and ass up for him. A position most would expect when it came to the resident ass-lover of the group. "There we go."

And with the way you moan the moment your face hits the sheets everyone in the room can almost guarantee Minho had won the bet fair and square. That was until your head slowly lifted from where it pressed against the mattress, breathing heavy with eyes dragging up towards your boyfriend where he sat now in front of you - smirking and letting his arms slowly cross over his chest. "You gonna tell them, baby, or do I have to?"

"There's no way that wasn't it." But Seungmin steps forward to test his luck anyway. Even if Minho won the bet just now, he wanted to get his own needs met, his palm smacking down hard on the bare skin of your asscheeks twice before he brought his hand lower and let it meet the wetness of your folds. That gets you to jolt, a sharp gasp escaping swollen lips.

The way you whimpered against the satin of your sheets almost made Seungmin think he was right about his guess, but the glance and small shake of Jeongin's head seemed to secure the realization that he was wrong, too. Seungmin sighs out and brings his hand down harder than before, making you flinch and moan loud - just for him, considering he'd been spanking you for his own satisfaction at that point. May as well let him know you appreciated it while it happened - and that you were open to it in the future, too, of course.

"I'm starting to think we're never going to guess it," Chris murmurs from where he stands near Changbin, leaning against the wall just to watch as everyone took guess after guess. "Maybe we should start going for softer kinks? Stuff that's less harsh...?"

Changbin shakes his head almost immediately. "She seems like the type who would like impact play or something, though. Do we need to go for something more extreme..?"

"What if it's got something to do with toys?" Jisung quips quietly, seated on the edge of the bed and fighting hard not to beg for another chance at winning the bet.

While the producers babbled on to each other about where to go from their current point, Felix stepped forward from where he'd been observing the entire time the others tried to figure out what it was you liked. You'd reacted well to everything they'd done so far; Hyunjin's size, Jisung's restraining, Minho's manhandling, and then Seungmin's spanking. There was no way in Hell you didn't enjoy the more hard-hitting kinks and the like - so he was going to take his chance while the others whined to each other about losing the bet. Besides, they were working against each other - not with.

"Move." Felix hums, gently nudging Minho aside. The older of the two surprisingly complies with ease and steps aside to watch Felix with close eyes, his hands settling on your ass before rubbing down to your hips. There's no hold, no grabbing - no slapping, spanking, bruising or restraining. No, Felix's hands are gentle as they rub over your skin, smoothing down the swell of your ass before giving a teasing squeeze and trailing lower. He settles his hands along your thighs before using his thumbs to spread your pussy open just for him to see - and for Minho to get a glance at.

Chris tips his head as he watches, eyes drawn away from Jisung and Changbin when Felix had stepped forward to take a shot at the prize. "Felix, wait. We should figure out what --"

But then he stops, lips popping apart in pure surprise at the utter filthiness of the younger man placed behind you.

Just as you lift your head to peek up in slight confusion at their constant rambling - and the feeling of someone's hands on you from behind who definitely was not Minho - Felix spits on your pussy.

It splatters on the pink of your skin, mixing with the slick that seems to gush from your aching, empty hole - and Felix watches as you clench around nothing in desperation. Yeah, he'd just won the bet.

"Shit," falls from Hyunjin's lips before he can help it, staring down the brunet who he wasn't aware until now was quite so.. dirty. His eyes dart from Felix over to where you lay, your reaction giving everything away; The way you bury your face down in the sheets as a strangled and shy moan rips from your throat; The way your cheeks burn a crimson hue none of them had seen all night. Even your ears tint pink in embarrassment that your dirty little secret had been revealed.

Jeongin, finally sitting forward and reaching to cup your cheeks in one of his hands, tips your head to face him so you can't quite hide away from them no matter how much you want to. "Look at me," he demands, voice soft but firm with instruction. "Open." And the others watch as you obey so sweetly for your boyfriend, lips falling apart and jaw completely slack so he can spit right onto your tongue - your mouth closing so you can swallow it before whimpering out in need of more.

And Felix - well, he's in Heaven. He'd took his shot and won the bet, belt everyone else out of the water no matter how hard they tried to figure you out - and he'd done it just by standing back and watching. His chest swells with pride and excitement at the knowledge that now, he got to receive his prize; That being you for at long as he wanted - or as long as he could last, he supposed. There was no way he was giving you back up to Jeongin before he was milked dry. And what kind of a friend would he be if he didn't pump you full before he returned you to your rightful owner?

"Get out." His voice is low in his chest, demanding everyone else leave so he could have his time with you. He needed it more than anything at the moment - you two shared the exact same kink and he was sure now he'd put that knowledge to good use, maybe even treat you so well with it that you wouldn't want to go crawling back to your boyfriend. But more importantly, you needed it, too, what with the way you were still clenching around nothing and just begging for him to spit on your pretty pussy again.

As the others file out the bedroom door, Jeongin chuckles low in his throat and leans forward to give you a quick kiss before he departs. His thumb slides over your cheek, gentle and soft - soothing before the heated, lust-filled ache that was bound to come in the following hours. His lips were like Heaven - like home - as they pressed against yours in a promise that once Felix was done with you - done with his reward for winning the bet and getting to use you like a toy for as long as he wanted - he would return and greet you with a warm embrace to give you as much care as you needed. Not that he doubted Felix would treat you well. Jeongin took a moment to peek down at where your wrists were still bound together with Jisung's belt, moving a hand down to hook a finger around the leather to give a gentle tug. He smiled against your lips, thumb tugging at the lower as he slowly pulled away to whisper,

"I'm going to leave this here. Good luck, baby."

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek

[mcrdvcks]

—please me

chapter summary: After dating for a while, you want nothing more than for Logan to really please you. Or, you beg Logan to finally fuck you.

word count: 2.2k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: here was the request

i don't have a lot of experience with the corruption kink, but i think this is it?? or maybe not, feel free to correct me😅

warnings/tags: old man logan, age gap, porn no plot, implied oral (f!receiving), pet names, begging, unprotected piv, corruption kink, praise kink, teasing, overstimulation, slight crybaby!reader(?), creampie

Normally you wouldn’t beg for something like this. You were a strong, independent woman who didn’t need no man, yet were more than happy to have one.

You weren’t like most girls your age either, moving from guy to guy never staying with one. It just wasn’t for you, you were never a super horny teenager, nor a super horny adult.

But when you started to date Logan, it was like you could feel the shift in your ovaries, and to make matters worse he never went the extra step, no matter how much you said you were ready.

It was always him going down on you, giving you beard burn that you delighted in, with the addition of his lovely thick fingers that always pushed you over. And sure, you went down on him, but that’s where it ended.

And you couldn’t help but want more, but Logan being Logan always made up an excuse about you being too young, or how he didn’t want to ruin a pretty little thing like you.

Logan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his beard glistening from the evidence of what he’d just done. You were still trembling, clutching at the sheets as the last waves of your release rolled through you, trying to catch your breath.

He shifted, moving up to sit beside you on the couch. The lazy smirk on his face told you he was proud of himself, as if he didn’t already know how good he was with his mouth and those ridiculously skilled fingers.

“You good, doll?” he asked, his voice gravelly and low, sending another shiver through your body.

You nodded, but something in you wasn’t satisfied. Not this time. It wasn’t enough anymore. You wanted more—needed more. And it wasn’t just your body begging; it was something deeper, something primal.

“Logan,” you murmured, sitting up on your knees and reaching out to touch his chest. Your fingers traced the lines of his muscles under the fabric of his shirt. He stiffened slightly, glancing at your hand before looking back up at your face.

“What is it, princess?” His tone softened a bit, though you caught the slight edge of wariness in it. He probably already knew what you were about to ask.

“I want you,” you whispered, leaning closer so your breath ghosted over his ear. “I need you.”

Logan groaned, running a hand over his face as if trying to wipe away the temptation that was you. “Y/N… we’ve talked about this. You’re… you’re too young, and I don’t wanna ruin you.”

You pulled back slightly, pouting in that way you knew he couldn’t resist. “I’m not a kid, Logan. I’m old enough to know what I want, and I want you.”

“Damn it, doll, don’t make this harder than it already is,” he muttered, looking anywhere but at you.

You weren’t going to let him get away with brushing you off this time. Shifting, you straddled his lap, your knees on either side of his hips. His hands instinctively moved to grip your thighs, and you felt the tension in his body as he tried to keep himself in check.

“Please, Logan,” you pleaded, grinding down against him. His breath hitched, and you knew you were getting to him. You leaned in, brushing your lips against his neck, trailing soft kisses up to his jaw. “I’ve been patient. I’ve waited, but I can’t anymore. I need you.”

He groaned again, his hands tightening on your thighs. “Doll, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Yes, I do,” you said firmly, pulling back to look him in the eye. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Logan’s resolve was crumbling; you could see it in the way his jaw tightened and his eyes darkened. He exhaled sharply, his grip on your thighs loosening slightly as he leaned his head back against the couch.

“Just the tip,” he muttered, almost as if trying to convince himself more than you. “Just the tip, and we stop if it’s too much.”

You nodded eagerly, your heart racing as you started to pull at his shirt. Logan’s rough hands came up to still yours, his calloused fingers wrapping around your wrists.

“Doll,” he said, his voice low and strained. “You’re killin’ me here.”

“Good,” you shot back, leaning in close enough that your lips brushed his as you spoke. “Then stop holding back.”

For a second, he didn’t move, his knuckles going white from the tension in his grip. Then, with a growl that vibrated through his chest, Logan released your wrists and let you yank his shirt over his head. The fabric barely hit the floor before his hands were on you again, sliding under your top to feel the softness of your skin. His touch was rough, desperate, like he’d been holding himself back for far too long.

“You sure about this?” he asked, his gaze locking onto yours. His eyes were dark, hungry, but there was a flicker of hesitation there, too.

You answered by pulling your shirt off and tossing it aside, leaving yourself bare before him. His breath hitched, and his hands froze for a moment before sliding up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. The touch sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you let out a soft gasp, your hips pressing down against him.

“Fuck, princess,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “You’re gonna drive me insane.”

“Good,” you repeated, your hands moving to the waistband of his jeans. “Because I’m not stopping until I get what I want.”

Logan groaned, his head falling back against the couch as you unbuttoned his jeans and dragged the zipper down. His hips lifted slightly to help you, and you pushed the denim down just enough to free him. The sight of him made your breath catch; he was thick, hard, and already leaking at the tip. You swallowed hard, your excitement and nerves mingling as you wrapped your fingers around him.

“Doll,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Don’t… fuck, don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing,” you said, shifting so you could line him up with your entrance. You paused, looking up at him one last time. “I want you, Logan. All of you.”

His jaw tightened, and he let out a shaky breath. “Just the tip,” he muttered, as if trying to convince himself. “We’ll stop if it’s too much.”

You nodded, your hands braced on his shoulders as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. The stretch was intense, bordering on overwhelming, but the pleasure that came with it was undeniable. Logan’s hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave marks, and his head tipped back as a low, guttural groan escaped him.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he hissed. “You’re so… tight. Fuck.”

You whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders as you adjusted to the intrusion. “Logan…”

“You okay?” he asked, his voice strained. His hands flexed on your hips, like he was fighting the urge to move.

“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding. “Yeah, I’m good. Just… give me a second.”

He nodded, his chest heaving as he tried to keep still. But as the initial sting faded and the pleasure began to build, you couldn’t help but start to move. You lifted yourself up slightly before sinking back down, and the friction sent a wave of heat through your body.

“Fuck,” Logan groaned, his hands guiding your movements as you began to pick up the pace. “Doll, you… you feel too good. I—fuck.”

Your response was a breathy moan, your head tipping back as you rode him. The way he filled you, stretched you, was almost too much, but you didn’t want to stop. You couldn’t. Not when it felt this good.

"Logan," you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly. "Please… I need… more."

Logan clenched his jaw, his self-control unraveling as your breathy voice and soft pleas pushed him further. He shifted beneath you, planting his feet more firmly on the floor, and wrapped one arm around your waist, anchoring you to him. His other hand slid up to cradle the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he tilted your head so he could press his lips to your temple.

"You don’t know what you’re asking for, princess," he muttered, his voice rough, low, and dangerously close to a growl. But even as he spoke, he rolled his hips up into you, just enough to pull a choked gasp from your lips.

"I do," you whispered, your forehead resting against his shoulder. Your nails scraped lightly down his arms, and you moved your hips again, meeting his shallow thrust. "Please… I… I can take it."

Logan swore under his breath, his grip on your waist tightening. "You’re gonna regret beggin' like that," he warned, but the smirk pulling at the corner of his lips betrayed his own amusement at your desperation.

He thrust up into you harder, and the sharp cry that escaped you sent a shiver down his spine. Your body clenched around him, the slick heat driving him mad. The way you buried your face in the crook of his neck, panting and babbling softly, only added to his torment.

"Logan," you whimpered, your voice muffled against his skin. "Feels s’good… oh… ohhh… please…"

"Look at you," Logan said, his voice laced with a teasing edge. He gripped your hips tighter, guiding you as you started to move more erratically. "Beggin' me to fuck you, and now you can’t even talk straight."

Your only response was a breathy whine, your body trembling as you moved against him. Logan’s smirk grew as he thrust up into you again, harder this time, making you cry out. Your hands fisted in his hair, your nails dragging along his scalp as your head tipped back.

"Oh… ohhh Logan," you babbled, the sound broken and desperate. "Please… don’t stop… more… more."

Logan’s chest rumbled with a low chuckle, but his movements never faltered. He braced his feet against the floor and began to move, his hips snapping up into yours in a steady rhythm that had you gasping and moaning uncontrollably.

"Thought you wanted me to take it slow," he teased, his voice a mix of amusement and desire. "Now look at you, ridin' me like you can’t get enough."

Your response was incoherent, a string of soft cries and gasps as you clung to him. Your head fell forward onto his shoulder again, your breath hot against his neck as you mumbled, "So good… so good… ohhh… Logan…"

He groaned, the sound vibrating through his chest as his hand slid down to grip your ass, pulling you down onto him harder with each thrust. "Yeah, that’s it, doll. Take it. You wanted this, didn’t you?"

"Y-yes," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Wanted… you… so much… oh… ohh…"

Logan growled, his hips bucking up into you more forcefully. Your cries grew louder, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to keep up with his relentless pace. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending lit up as he filled you over and over again.

"Fuck, you’re close," he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear. "I can feel it. You gonna come for me, princess?"

You nodded frantically, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. "Y-yes… oh… Logan… I… I…"

He didn’t let you finish, his hand sliding up your back to pull you even closer as he drove into you harder. Your body tensed, your cries turning into broken sobs of pleasure as your climax crashed over you.

"That’s it," Logan murmured, his voice rough but tender. "Let go for me, doll. Let me feel you."

You came undone, your body trembling and your head falling against his shoulder as you sobbed his name. Logan groaned, his grip on you tightening as he fucked you through the aftershocks, each thrust pulling another shuddering moan from your lips.

"Too much," you whimpered, your voice muffled against his skin. "Logan… too much… can’t…"

But Logan didn’t stop. He slowed his movements slightly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back, but he kept going, his own release building as he pushed you past the edge.

"You’re fine," he said softly, his voice a deep rumble. "You can take it. You’re stronger than you think."

You whimpered, your body shivering as the overstimulation sent jolts of pleasure-pain through you. Logan pressed a kiss to your temple, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release.

"Almost there, doll," he muttered, his voice strained. "Just hold on a little longer."

You nodded weakly, your hands clutching at him as he thrust into you one last time, his body tensing as he spilled inside you. He groaned, his head falling back against the couch as he held you close, his breaths coming in harsh pants.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the room filled with the sound of your ragged breathing and the faint hum of the TV in the background. Logan’s hands ran up and down your back soothingly, his touch grounding you as you both came down from the high.

"You okay?" he asked after a while, his voice soft and laced with concern.

You nodded, your face still buried in his neck. "Yeah," you murmured, your voice hoarse. "More than okay."

Logan chuckled softly, his hand moving to cup the back of your head as he pressed a kiss to your hair. "Good. Because you’re gonna be sore as hell tomorrow, princess."

You let out a breathless laugh, your body relaxing against him as a warm, contented silence settled over you both.