#you look into the abyss and the abyss stares back at you

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊ ⎯ denial is all that I've known

content // bakugo x fem!reader. emotional comfort; 20 somethings. mentions of death (of a family member). grief is weird. soft bakugo being there for you. not proof read.

You'd had an aching feeling in your chest throughout the day, but couldn't give it any proper meaning. Nothing was wrong - work went fine, the sun was shining...but that anxiety didn't lift from your shoulders. Something was in the air, it was only a matter of time before the reasoning slapped you in the face. Your intuition was never wrong about this kind of thing, much to your dismay.

Then came the text, 6:57pm. A fucking text, of all things.

"Hi honey. So sorry to text you this, but your uncle has passed away. Not much else known right now, but I'll let you know. Love you."

No, you read that wrong. That's not true...it can't be true. Someone must have the wrong number. A poor attempt to convince yourself when your eyes drift up to the contact name, painfully reminding you that it's your mother and not some stranger mistakenly informing you of a family death. It feels like hours pass while staring at your phone screen, the words beginning to intermingle with each other and become gibberish through hazy vision. When you come to, and somewhat accept that this is in fact real, your eyes gravitate to the time. It's only 7:05pm - he's still at the agency. If you hurry, you'll catch him in time.

You don't remember lacing up your sneakers or throwing on a hoodie before bolting from your apartment complex, storming out into the busy city street toward the office. Did you even put the dinner you reheated back in the fridge? It's all a blur, too engrossed on heading toward the one person you knew would catch you before you fell in too deep.

Rounding the corner of the final block - you stopped counting how many you'd sprinted through - and the agency skyscraper was in your sights. It's faint, but the glow to Bakugo's office is visible from the side of the building. When did you memorize its placement from outside? You don't wait to catch your breath or finish your thought, you can't stop now. If you do, you'll collapse on this dirty sidewalk around strangers, frozen in time and left alone with your heartache.

The security guard sees you racing toward the entrance, recognizing you with a wave before stepping out of your way, taken aback by the gust of wind that follows you as you zoom inside. There's no time for the elevator, running past the set and bursting through the metal door to the stairwell. Swinging off the landing to each floor, skipping steps and pulling yourself up by the railing has you reaching the fourth floor in no time at all, hurrying through the second metal door with a loud bang. When you skid to a halt outside of Bakugo's office door, it swings open before you get a chance to knock.

"The hell?" he speaks aloud, confusion written all over his face as he watches you pant frantically, a pitiful attempt to catch your breath. "Did you fuckin' run here?"

The dread starts to sink in, an anchor dragging you into that abyss of affliction you were trying to avoid. The panic creeps up your spine, the inevitable breakdown approaching - time's up. Breathing suddenly feels foreign, your limbs trembling with the stress of your run as it starts to catch up to you. You barely notice Bakugo move and gently guide you by the shoulders into his office, shutting the door behind him quietly.

"Hey," he mutters lowly while grabbing your wrist to get your attention. "What's goin' on? Y'haven't said a word, you're scarin' me."

Shit, you haven't said anything? Did he try to have a conversation that you don't even remember?

"Y/N," He crouches down to be eye level, forcing you to look at him when he grabs your chin. "Answer me, what's wrong?"

Words unexpectedly fail you when you try to speak, a head full of white noise too distracting to properly find what you want to say. Bakugo's head tilts with worry, brows creased and the train of thought behind his eyes apparent, desperate to find a way to get you to talk through your state of shock.

"Did somethin' happen?" Bakugo pauses to evaluate whether or not you're hurt. "Y'don't look injured. Ya gotta tell me so I can help."

It comes out of nowhere, like bile rising in your throat, when you finally blurt out "My uncle died."

His shoulders deflate, the breath he was holding exhaled in one swift huff. "So instead of callin' me to come over, you barreled over here like a bat outta hell?"

All you can do is nod in response, hot tears beginning to spill out of the corners of your eyes, resolve officially broken.

"...wasn't thinking straight," you choke out, barely audible. "I need you, Katsuki."

The final syllable of his name hardly has the time to leave your lips before he's pulling on your wrist, letting go of your chin and awkwardly tugging you into him as he stands to his full height in the same motion. The warmth of his embrace floods over you, strong arms caging you solidly against his chest, shielding you from any further harm and letting you unwind - to grieve. You wouldn't be here if you could handle this on your own, and he knows that.

"Idiot," Bakugo jokes before squeezing you tighter when he hears you hiccup between sobs. "I can blast over to your place faster than your attempt at an Olympic sprint."

Everything pours out of you, all the tension, denial, hurt and sorrow welling inside of you on full display for him to see. One of his hands threads through your hair, cradling the back of your head lovingly.

"Y’know that you could call me once an hour for a whole night for an entire week and I wouldn’t give a damn about losing sleep if it meant you’d feel better. As long as I'm around, I'll never let ya cry alone, alright? That's a damn promise."

The material of Bakugo’s shirt balls in your fists when your grip tightens, the only response you can provide is to hold on to him for dear life.

“S’okay, just let it out. I got’cha.”

And you do, staining his shirt with tears and snot until you’re too tired to cry any longer. You’re not sure how long the two of you stand in the darkness of Bakugo’s office. The thrumming of his heartbeat soothes your nerves, feeling yourself relax as the rhythm replaces the static in your head.

“Thank you.”

⇢  bkg & all tags // @slayfics @maddietries @starieqq 

@liluvtojineteyam @jays-adventure3 @simp-plague

@napbatata @Yoyolovesdaiki @catsoupki

@queenpiranhadon @kirishimaeijiromyman @strwbrrykthv

@hayatoseyepatch @awkwardchick87 @stunies @sakufilm

⇢ network; @pixelcafe-network

[badsugargoodpoison]

american-made | steve rogers

steve rogers × gender neutral reader

≈ 1.2k words • fluff + mild angst

You sustain a significant injury while on a mission. In your woozy state, there are some things you just need Steve to know. OR... You tell Steve exactly what color his eyes are.

warnings: implied violence, injuries (wounded side/stomach), blood and blood loss (though nothing graphic), reader makes it out a-okay but there's fear of death or permanent bodily harm, a little goofiness, unspecified relationship (i wrote it with a "mutual feelings but everyone's too chicken to act on it" scenario in mind, but it can be read platonically or romantically ♡), worried Steve

★ no use of y/n | no mention of body size, skin tone, or hair texture/length ★

A/N: Let me know if I missed something! I actually don't know where this came from, Steve isn't even usually My Guy™️ but... umm... my first lil' fic I've ever published, mayhap? I'm tempted to do a quick part two where romantic feelings are expressed but I kinda wanted to leave this as ambiguous as possible. Feedback is appreciated 😊

“Gonna lay you down,” Steve warns. The curves of his lips flatten into a tight seam as you nod. Then, the world tilts until the gunmetal gray ceiling of the jet stares you in the face.

As if they’re magnetized, your eyelids catch each time you blink. The warmth of the darkness tempts you, but you dutifully choose the daylight every time. After all, five minutes ago, Steve instructed you to keep your eyes open, and you'll be damned if you don't follow his orders—especially since they'd come out as staccato as gunfire.

He's still got his hands on you. One warm palm makes a pillow under your stiff shoulders, but the other, pressed to your waist, feels like the hot end of a poker—like a brand of his fingerprints.

The jet rumbles, and so does his voice, sure and low. You'd give anything to be pressed to his chest tight enough to feel the vibration of his words as they roll through him. Now though, all you can do is stare up at him as he moves back into view.

He's taken off his helmet to reveal a scruffy, sweat-soaked halo of hair. Afternoon light illuminates him in swathes of gold as it flickers in from the cockpit. With the blood on his cheekbone, the gray and brown grime settled into the lines of his face, and the bruise on his jaw, he looks every bit an avenging angel.

Or he would, if his brow wasn't pinched so tight.

Blue blue eyes search your face. They're shiny, so shiny you can almost see yourself reflected in them. They remind you of pool water, and of—

"Denim. Eyes are like denim." You state, weary but certain.

Steve's frown deepens.

"What?"

"I had these... these overalls as a kid—ah." You wince as Steve jostles you slightly, but it's not enough to deter you from your story. You bulldoze right ahead, and Steve's never been more grateful for your stubbornness.

"And I—my parents could never get me out of them. I lived in 'em. Practically. Never wanted to... to put on anything else." You heave in a breath, like a sigh at a story you've told a million times, not an attempt to gather up all your strength to get the words out.

"They got sooo gross at some points." Your emphasis on the words makes you giggle, but it also makes the pain flair in your side. Your hand smacks at Steve's lightly where it presses into your slick skin, and your blood smears against his wrist.

"I used to climb trees in 'em and... get cherry popsicle juice down the front but I'd still—still pick them out of the laundry the next morning." You drift off towards the end with a heavy blink and look off to your side into the abyss of the dull metal box you're flying in. It's obvious to him, as someone who's worn the same look many times, that the faraway glaze of your eyes is the sheen of memory brought to the surface.

To hold you any tighter would be to hurt you—and the tremble of his hands wouldn't allow it anyway—but the lump in his throat whispers that your sudden lapse in train of thought is a precursor to something worse.

"Hey—" he begins to say, and he attempts to unwind his brows so his solemnity doesn't startle you. Your focus snaps back to him with jarring intensity. Unabashedly, you stare. He finds himself stuck in your gaze as you slide your focus from one of his eyes to the other. You blink, once, twice, and then nod to yourself, though it's little more than a jerk of your chin. Steve doesn't have the heart to tell you.

"Anyway.” You pick up right where you left off. "They were denim and like the 'xact color of your eyes."

Steve feels something in his chest expand, at once taut and airy: he's a balloon caught in your tight fist. He smiles down at you as soft as he can. You're not finished yet—he can see it in the part of your lips and the shine of your eyes—and he is intent on listening.

"I was—was looking at your eyes the other day and trying to find the right thing. The thing that they are." Your focus drifts again, gaze wobbly and lashes fluttering to kiss your cheeks, but you gulp another breath.

Steve knows your strength is trickling away, that you've held onto consciousness with slippery tired hands and done it beautifully, but you can't do it forever. He wishes you could. He wishes you could stay conscious till he can get you to the medbay, because if you're not talking he has to bear the silence. No blood-curdling scream could ever compare to the dread of silence.

"Yeah? And what are they?" he asks, nearly whispering, and it seems to do the trick. The prompt coaxes your voice back out, and even though you talk past him, and ignore his question entirely to finish your thought, Steve doesn't have the time or the heart to care. He'll take anything he can get—whatever scrap of your voice you'll give to him right now.

"And now I know. They're my denim overalls." A small, proud smile tilts up your lips as your eyes flutter closed. You try to pat his hand, the one holding your insides where they're supposed to be, but it's barely a twitch.

"Now you know." He agrees, amicably. You're right of course, even if he's never seen the overalls you're talking about. Of course you're right.

The mild bemusement gives way to a frantic hammering in his chest; you haven't opened your eyes again.

"Hey.” He frees his hand from behind your back and tucks it underneath your neck, right at the base of your skull. Some of your own blood smears against your jaw as he thumbs across it.

"Hey, can you open your eyes for me, please? I gotta—gotta find the thing that yours are now, okay?"

You snap back to attention, and Steve's heart leaps when the hand over his grips just a little tighter.

"Steve—Steve I gotta tell you something."

You lose your consonants, mouth clumsy around the words like they're melting on your tongue.

Nat calls his name while you work on getting another sentence out and gives him a nod that he understands. The jet is landing. There's a medical team on standby. You're going to be okay.

"Hey, hey, why don't you tell me all about it when you're all patched up, okay?"

"Okay.” You accept easily, lips turning up again and eyes closing. The floor tilts as you begin to descend, but you're anchored by Steve's ridiculously strong arms and the hip he has pressed to your side. He brackets you to the spot with ease—Steve Rogers: 1, gravity: 0.

“I really like talking t'you,” you slur, and you think, through the daze of blood-loss and dull pain, that Steven Grant Rogers lets out a tiny laugh.

[midnight-phoeniix]

[thepenguisalive7]

Same old same old

[sleepyminty]

Eversince i bought my binah plush doll, my two cousins ( who had zero knowledge of any PM games) had developed fear around her, since i placed her near the bedroom door they always said that they started having nightmare of this doll and honestly

Good for you binah, you’re still a manace even you turn into a harmless plushie

[keeps-ache]

i'm on some sort of kick lol

[ectoplasmfear]

(Let's not kid ourselves, though.)

[lanternlightss]

today i have thought sm about my beloved oc’s mel and cerelia and i am feeling so completely normal about them (this is a lie i am so unwell)

[gtgbabie0]

-Aegon Targaryen x Wife!Reader

{Aegon takes pleasure in his cups… and in between your thighs although it’s all the same to him}

!!-18//MDNI-!! I was listening to Amy Whinehouse whilst writing this, enjoy my lovelies💕

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The hour of the bat was well and truly upon Kings Landing, the crescent moon resting against the abyss of the night sky as it casts down a silvery hue that bleeds throughout the Red Keep. With the absence of the sun, you found peace, resting on the velvety divan with a book in hand.

You were lost within the chapters as Aegon paces the length of your bedchambers before collapsing next to you on the divan, leaning up against cushions with a heavy sigh.

“They all belittle me… they all take me for a fool.” He huffs, pointing over to the door of your chambers, still complaining about today’s council meeting with a deep frown. You had already said your piece yet it seems Aegon was not done venting to you.

He looks up to you, opening his mouth to complain about how you ‘need to pay attention to him and not the book’ however the words fall short, dissolving on the tip of his tongue as he stares at you completely star-stuck.

His lips curl into a lopsided grin, the sight of you and the slightly sheer fabric of your nightslip that veils your body, how the fireplace bathes you in a warm orangey light, you had a beauty that captivated him wholly.

“Fuck them… fuck, all of them.” He declares suddenly, although deep down he doesn’t mean the words, not really, you can tell by the way his amethyst eyes flicker with hesitation, glancing down at his fidgeting hands.

“Aegon—” you start, but your words are quickly cut off by him, his rough palm resting against your cheek.

His gaze meets your own, shuffling closer to you, his lips curling downwards in a nonchalant manner. “No, I don’t need any of them, just you.” His words are hushed, only meant for your ears.

With a sigh your eyes soften in an understanding, for you know his only desire is to be admired or at the very least just simply liked. You close your book, leaning over him to place it on the wooden table.

“And you have me, no matter what the future holds.” You reaffirm his words, watching him closely as he lets out a shaky sigh which he tries his best to conceal.

There was an instability in Aegon’s life, save for you, his only constant in a world of ever-changing conditions. Perhaps that is why he clings to you the way he does, arms wrapped tightly around your soft waist with his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“I am not as malleable as they think… I will win, I will burn down anyone who goes against me.” He whispers against the curve of your jaw, confidence weighing against his tone. His hand slips in between the gap of your nightslip to caress your bare waist down to your hip, the cool metal of his wedding band sends a chill down your spine.

He needed a distraction, the pressure from the heavy crown he never asked for was too much for him to endure alone. He needed to not feel like such a disappointment for even just a small moment.

He kisses the small spot behind your ear, an invitation, to which your head instinctively tilts to the side, enticing him to leave open-mouthed kisses along your neck. His lips linger against your pulse point with a small grin, the sound of your pleasured sigh hitting his ears.

“Of course, I do not doubt you, you know that.” You whisper through a shaky voice, steeped in desire. Your body jolts, a soft gasp, at the feeling of his teeth nipping the sensitive skin on your throat before kissing the spot once then twice.

He hums in acknowledgement, pulling back to admire you. His palm still cupping your cheek with a certain hint of possessiveness, it shows in the way he thumbs at your bottom lip. “Hmm, you might be the only one who does, my pretty wife.” He whispers, all of his worries and troubles slowly ebbing away.

The atmosphere around the pair of you suddenly changes, the air becoming so thick that you’re sure it could snuff out the candles around you.

“Yours… all yours Aegon.” The words come out in one breath, tumbling past your parted lips as his fingertips graze along your lower abdomen, slipping through the coarse hair on your mound before dipping past your slick folds.

The rough pads of his finger slides along your slit to collect your wetness before finding your clit, rubbing slow circles against the sensitive bud, testing the waters, as you melt into the divan. Aegon chuckles against your shoulder, enjoying the way your thighs spread and your hips writhe with desperation for more.

He sinks down onto the floor, kneeling between your thighs, ready to pray at the altar of your body. He immediately pushes the silk fabric of your nightdress up past your thighs, letting it pool around your hips.

“I’ve been deprived of you for weeks…” he mutters, leaving marks against your hip-bones, sucking at the sensitive skin, before soothing them with a gentle kiss or two.

You watch his lilac eyes go dark with a carnal craving, the way his hands greedily feel up your thighs, squeezing the supple fat harshly, it all only elicits more gasps and moans from you.

He coos against the inside of your thigh, nudging one leg over his shoulder and propping the other up on the divan to spread out in front of him, the sight of your soaked cunt going straight to his hardening cock. “I’ll be gentle… so gentle.” He smirks, a lie, lips trailing over your inner thighs with all tongue and teeth as your hips buck upwards in anticipation.

He tuts, fingers digging into your hips to keep you still. All too suddenly he’s tugging you closer to him roughly, making you slouch against the cushions of the divan with a shocked gasp.

Your fingers bury within his white choppy hair, pulling him closer to your aching heat as his tongue trails along your cunt, flicking against your clit with a groan. He smirks into your soaked folds, the sound of your whiny moans, the way his name falls from your parted lips in a hunger only he could satisfy, it all makes his skin burn.

“Keep moaning… let me hear you.” He encourages, words muffled against your slickness, lips pressed to your clit, leaving open-mouthed kisses against your sensitive bud trying to elicit more sweet noises from your lips as he hums in delight.

A broken moan escapes you, your hips grinding upwards in tandem with his lips and tongue. “Oh, Aegon… more please.” You cry out, a woman possessed by pleasure.

It is the same possession that causes you to arch your back up from the divan to try and get closer to him. His fingers squeezing into your hips, a warning, his tongue lapping up your desire before teasing your entrance, practically drinking from you as if you were a chalice of Arbor Red.

Aegon flattens his tongue against your cunt, licking up to your clit once more with a muffled moan, sucking on it with delight. “Tastes so sweet…” The vibrations from his words only serve to add to the searing heat that begins to pool deep within your lower abdomen, leaving you a panting mess.

“Aegon, don’t stop… I’m so close.” your hands pull helplessly at his hair, drawing him impossibly closer. He chuckles at your wanton need, how you shamelessly grind yourself against his mouth without a care in the world.

He pushes his fingers inside of you with ease, humming in pleasure at the way your heat sucks in his digits. Aegon fucks you with them you at a tantalising pace whilst licking at your sensitive bud. You look down at him, your mouth agape, watching his head move against you so eagerly as you teeter along the line of release.

“Gods— Aegon!” You cry out his name with a broken moan, your slick walls clamping around his fingers as he continues to curl them deep inside you, still kissing greedily at your clit. He mumbles sweet, loving words of encouragement as he drinks up your orgasm. The wet sounds fill the silence of your bedchambers as you come down from your high with shaky breaths that come out in puffs.

He looks up at you with a cocky smirk, pride blooming through his chest, his lips and chin slick with your release. He pushes himself back onto the divan, leaning over you. “You are truly all I need, all I want.” He whispers feverishly, his fingers wrapping around your jaw to bring your lips to his own.

The taste of you against his lips is all you need to deepen the messy kiss, both of you melting into each other's warmth in a mixture of lust and love. He would take this as long as he could, until you were completely satiated. And even then, he would push for more. He was addicted to you.

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[yuuuhiii]

just with you

includes : mikey x reader , comfort , angst

note : this made me so sad:((( he looks so empty ugh I needed to write smth abt that

Manjiro hadn’t been answering your calls or texts. It worried you to no end.

From the beginning of your relationship with him, even prior to dating, you were aware that Manjiro was struggling internally.

Dark thoughts and impulses coursed through him and his mind. It hurt to watch him suffer from the inside, to see him struggle in silence as he stared off into nothing.

He had grown accustomed to emptiness and nothing until you came and brightened up his world. Though the abyss still lingered, you made everything better.

Your love enveloped Manjiro in a cocoon of emotions, with every kiss, touch, and word. You held his heart with care, mending it with your gentle touch and soothing words. Your promises of unwavering support, love, and protection were like a ray of hope in his darkest moments. You vowed to be his guiding light, saving him from the depths of his own despair.

You had spoken to Draken, but even he had not talked to Manjiro that day, which worried him as well. So, he gave you a ride to where you knew Manjiro would be.

He sat at the edge, holding a taiyaki in his hand and wearing his favorite jacket that you had bought him. You approached him as you heard him talking to the sweet snack.

Your heart breaks at the emptiness pooling in his eyes as he stares at a scenery that’d have anyone’s eyes wide with joy. You bite at your lip, trying to hold yourself back from crying. You run up to him, throwing your arms around his midsection, surprising him in the act.

He turned around, blinked at you, and smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. That scared you, as his eyes were so dull that you couldn't even see your reflection in them.

"Huh? What are you doing here?" he asked softly, without any hint of malice, his tone calm.

The waves crash against the shore. His words linger as you cry into his shirt.

“Why’re you crying?” He mumbles softly and it makes you pout.

You jump up and sit next to him, making him blink at you. He raises a hand, gently wiping at the next tear that threatened to leave your eyes.

"Don't cry," he says in a small voice as he waves the taiyaki.

Manjiro has always made you feel safe, made you feel comforted. You could only hope that he felt the same way.

You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in his hair as more cries escape you. He looks over at Draken and nods, silently asking him to leave.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble and he’s a little confused however he lets you continue.

“I love you, ‘Jiro. I’m here for you, I’ll always—always be here for you. Let me help you.” You whimper and his eyes widen, glancing down at you.

Your eyes meet his and for the first time that day, his eyes sparkle.

“Please, Manjiro, let me have you.” You plead, peering into his eyes with your tear-stricken ones.

He softly laughs, resting his forehead against yours. He closes his eyes and hums softly.

“I'm yours dummy, I—love you too.” He whispers so close to your lips.

Your lips barely touch but there’s something so intimate about it, the way you guys are so close to each other. He finally seals the kiss, leaning into you fully. The kiss is long and deep, it’s like a kiss you’d both share in the early hours of the morning. Or late into the night when the both of you are basking in each other’s arms.

When he pulls away he rests his head on your chest, the sound of your heartbeat calming his thoughts, filling with just you as he gazes at the water.

“It beats for you.” You say gently, your hands raking through his hair.

For hours you stay like that, Manjiro listening to your heartbeat as you both sat in silence. Admiring just how sometimes, simplistic life can be.

No worries, no problems, no thoughts, just with you.

© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms

[textmel8r]

[ DRABBLE ] 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ! ( ninth installment ) in which you are forced to plan a corporate event with your office enemy .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; kento nanami

୨୧˚ cw; profanity , alcohol consumption , inebriation , sexual harassment , violence , vomit

୨୧˚ an; i love nami kempo (dis shit like 4k werdssss) ALSO i’ve been getting comments that my tag list isn’t working for me dumb someone help me pls tell me what im doing wrong

୨୧˚ join my discord server ! we share headcanons, fanfic recs, color roles, and more drooling emoji

“Why am I here?” Nanami thinks out loud, glaring pointedly around the unlit dive bar. It’s unglamorous, walls garbed in eclectic music paraphernalia, references that go right past him. Flurries of reds and yellows and oranges in the decor cut brightly, shining through the dim atmosphere. Seriously, would it kill them to switch a light on? It bustles with life; university kids, Nanami is subjected to think based on the… unique fashion sense present in the room. Street wear, torn jeans, crop tops way too short to be considered shirts anymore. He cringes, feeling entirely too dated to be hanging amongst this kind of crowd. His leg bounces restlessly under the ledge of the bar, and he turns to look at you. “Why are we here?”

You’re smiling—actually smiling—flagging down the bartender. “You knew we were coming to a bar,” you cut yourself short, holding up a single finger to him whilst you relayed your order to the older gentleman behind the bar. A rum and coke, you asked politely before glancing toward Nanami. It took a moment for him to realize what that look meant. 

“I’ll have scotch, neat. Thanks.”

“As I was saying,” you steal back his attention, “I made it clear we were coming to a bar. What’s the problem?”

There was a hint of an attitude catching at your words, and Nanami felt his brow twitch in frustration. “You failed to tell me that we’d be in…” He grimaces, peeking back over his shoulder to the sea of youthful patrons slinging over nearly every stool and booth. “ . . . Mixed company.” God awful pop music fizzles through the speakers, twisting and crackling with pops of static; fuel to the billowing flames of Nanami’s overstimulation. “I was expecting something a bit more sophisticated.”

“I can tell,” you’re laughing as you give him a once over, and he gets a shiver of Deja Vu from the coffee shop where you pulled the same exact move. You tweeze at the expensive cotton button down, plucking the bunched fabric of a sleeve at the crease of his elbow. “Thought we said no more fancy clothes?”

Tonight he threw together a plain white shirt and a pair of slim fit khaki pants; the quintessential dad outfit, sure, but fancy? Nanami didn’t think so. “I’m dressed down.”

“Nixing the suit jacket and tie didn’t do much. You still look stiff, man.” Two glasses are brought over, one placed before either of you respectively. Nanami stares down into the glass, a foggy, brown abyss. His alcohol looks watered down and piss cheap. “You stick out, it’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Oh please, you’re too kind.” Nanami rolls his eyes, hunching over the bar and downing a swig from the scotch. Yeah, It was definitely watered down. Fuck this place. 

Your hand slaps his back. “So dramatic. I was kidding Nanami, you look fine.” A cheeky laugh reaches his ears before you tack on, “very handsome.” 

Now he knows you’re messing with him. 

You grin into your cup. “Stop sulking. It’s not so bad here.” Nanami would beg to differ. A debate that isn’t worth having because frankly, it’s a Saturday night and he doesn’t have nearly enough energy to draft a list of all the cons that this joint has to offer. “We got booze,” you raise your glass. “Booze makes everything better.”

His forehead wrinkles. “That’s a horrible mindset to have, Y/n.”

Your boisterous laugh outweighs the ambient chatter, and you take a hearty gulp. Nanami follows suit, albeit a bit awkwardly, tipping more spirits down his throat. You look surprisingly comfortable, slinking against the bar counter with a hazy smile that welcomes strangers in. This time, you weren’t wearing a flowery dress; instead, a low cut shirt and jeans, both equal parts dark and tight. The neckline plummeted deep, exposing slivers of your bra cups and entirely too much cleavage. By God, was his self restraint something to write home about. 

It was easy to fall into comfortable conversation. All in all, Nanami enjoys talking to you now, even if once upon a time the thought of engaging with you evoked such dread that he’d outwardly avoid your presence around the office. Passing along orders specifically meant for you to other colleagues and entrusting them to deliver the message, lengthening the conveyor belt of relation simply because you got him in a tizzy. Back then, all Nanami could see when he looked at you was that cowardly girl in the bathroom with smeared lipstick and a trembling pout. How shameful, he thinks, that it took him this long to see past that terrible first impression. 

“So there I was, balancing ten cups of coffee, shaking like a little bitch,” you laughed as you shared an anecdote from an internship in your university years. Nanami listened intently, head propped up on his fist as he watched your theatrics. Your cheeks flushed with the evidence of alcohol, eyes lidded, smile wobbly. Nanami was feeling the edge of his buzz coming on too, an amazing revelation considering the diluted alcohol this place served. “And I’m walking up ten flights of stairs–”

“Ten flights?” He gawks, feeling looser and matching you with melodrama. “What, did your office not have an elevator?”

You laughed. “It was out of order.”

“Your luck astounds me.”

You flip him off playfully. “I finally get to the last stair and my heel catches on the floor and I eat total shit in front of the entire room!” Nanami can’t stop his own tittering, cupping a palm over his grin. “Spilled the coffee everywhere, twisted my ankle, too. I probably laid in that puddle for ten minutes.”

“That’s why you don’t wear high heels anymore?”

There’s a grimace on your face when you nod, topping off the rest of your glass. “Mm.”

Nanami swaps his own story, of a time when he was in his third year of college and his work laptop got stolen. “I think I cried,” and you guffawed at his misery. “I’m serious, I really think I cried. Alone, on the floor of my dormitory. It was finals week, and I had written my dissertation on that laptop.”

“So what did you do?”

“I pulled an all-nighter in the library on campus and rewrote my entire thesis.” Merely remembering that chaotically stressful night had Nanami huffing a sigh of anguish and dragging an exasperated hand down his face. 

The bartender slides you another drink. Gosh, he was lagging behind. “I would’ve dropped out.” You spoke over the rim of the glass.

“Trust me, I was really close.” Nanami’s eyes narrow, gaging the swell of your throat as you knock back a few swigs. “How many have you had?” 

“A few.” Your answer was blunt, and from that Nanami could gather that his question had rendered you the slightest bit irritated. He understood why; you were a grown woman, who was he to regulate how many rounds you decide to have? But even with this understanding, the man couldn’t shake his concern. “More than you, old timer. Keep up.”

He shakes his head, scratching at his cheek. “This is my last for the night.” Any more, and Nanami would wake up the next morning nauseous with a pounding headache. He took precautions to avoid breaching his limits, he really disliked that hungover feeling. 

You gawk at the declaration. “How lame.” Then you hiccup.

“You can call me lame now, but which one of us will wake up tomorrow not in pain?”

You wave a hand through the air, brushing off his very astute observation. “Hush, that’s for future me to deal with. Present me doesn’t have a care in the world.”

You’re immature, but it’s amusing, so he doesn’t offer any rebuttals. The way you are so insistent on living in the moment is fascinating, almost inspiring even. Nanami feels as though he’s ever crushed by the impending future, always so concerned with what the next day, next week, next month, next year brings. He thinks ahead to a fault, and because of that, forgets to enjoy the little things. But you always stop and smell the roses. It’s admirable. 

“Bartender!” You wag a finger in the air, slamming down your empty glass. Fiending for yet another drink. 

Okay, maybe your ability to live in the now is to a fault as well. Nanami holds a hand up, signaling the barkeep to halt. “Sorry,” he apologizes politely, “she’s all good for now, thanks.” Ain’t that the truth. Your face looked tacky with sweat, pupils scarily dilated. Your words come out dimly slurred, and your gestures uncoordinated. As your business associate, he feels obligated to intervene at this point.

A hand slaps his down. Your hand. “Hey what gives?” You’re upset with him. “Just because you’re done doesn’t mean I am.”

“You’re three sips away from throwing up on yourself,” Nanami deadpans, unphased by your drunken outburst. Unbeknownst to the two of you, another patron had taken up the stool opposite of you. To be expected; the bar was decently crowded, that being said neither of you paid much mind to the man. He was younger than Nanami for sure, his hair unkempt and shaggy, swept back by sweat and something that looked like grease. He was smiling, probably on some brand of dope that Nanami was unfamiliar with. The stranger interrupts, leaning over with his elbow planted on the countertop. 

“You her father or some shit?” He speaks without any warning, catching both you and Nanami’s attention. 

Father? Nanami internally grimaces, jaw tightening. Just how old does he think I am? Trying not to be offended by the inquiry, he corrects the man. “Just a concerned friend, that’s all.” You have yet to speak, still a tad caught off guard by the unexpected company. 

The stranger’s grin widens, reaching shit-eating status. “Then hop the fuck off her case, man.” He shoots a pair of lidded, droopy eyes toward you, eyebrows jumping in a manner that is entirely too suggestive for Nanami’s liking. “If the lady wants another drink, then let her have another drink.”

Nanami feels the awkward tension thicken the air between this interaction. For all the shit you talked about getting hit on in bars, he would have never expected you to act so timid when put in a position like this. Nanami fully expected you to side with the latter party, to order another round of vodka-whatever and then leave with your newfound knight in shining armor. What actually happened: “No, er, my friend might be right actually,” followed by an incredibly strained chuckle. Your shoulders stiffen, Nanami can practically feel the way you harden up beside him. “I should probably take it easy.”

The man feigns grief. “Aw, c’mon. You seemed so eager before. Let me buy you another?”

“She just said—”

“I was talking to her, not you.”

Nanami was utterly shocked by the sheer gall this young man possessed. Was he trying to intimidate him? It was painfully ineffective. “I don’t want one,” you said with a little more oomph this time, fiercely hanging on the urge to defend Nanami. It made him feel strangely prideful. 

The stranger’s smile never retreated, but something sinister glinted in the ocean of his dark eyes. He gave a sniff, brushing the point of his nose with the pad of his thumb before hurling yet another unwanted flirtation your way. “Baby, hey, what’s one more drink? I saw you from across the room, I’ve been dyin’ to chat you up.” Under the table, his hand slips into your personal space. Nanami sees it unfold in his peripherals; the pallor hand slithering over your lap, grabbing a handful of your denim-clad thigh. You yelped in surprise, wincing. Nanami saw it all.  

He was not a violent man. In fact, he could count the number of times he’s thrown a punch in his life on one hand. Physical fights were pointless, a waste of time and energy because Nanami wholeheartedly believed that altercations were best settled with words. But the moment your nervous squeak found his ears, Nanami couldn’t control the urge to beat this guy’s face in. So that’s what he did; sliding out of his seat to round you and pull the stranger off his stool by the collar of his faux leather jacket. The material felt cheap and mingy, not something Nanami would ever be caught dead wearing. Without so much as a second thought, Nanami sends a heavy fist barreling into the meat of his cheek. One good, solid punch, and the sinewy gentleman was tumbling to the ground, walking the thin line between consciousness. “Shit…” Nanami breathes, chest heaving with barely concealed rage, knuckles throbbing to the beat of his racing heart. The bar went dead, too many pairs of eyes locked onto him to count, but the only ones he could care about were yours. 

You looked at Nanami with such astonishment, with your eyes pried wide as dinner plates and your mouth ajar. He was ready for you to yell at him, to curse him for embarrassing you in a pub you frequented, but nothing came. Well, almost nothing. 

“Security!” The bartender hollered thick and deep, slapping a damp rag onto the counter with a wet plap. 

“Shit!” Nanami repeated, cuffing a hand around the thinnest part of your wrist, tugging you into his side as you both raced toward the exit. “Let’s go.”

You’re gurgling and grumbling, latching onto the material of his shirt as little bouts of complaining bubbled past your lips. “Not so fast!” and “Oh God, my stomach” and “I don’t feel good.” Nanami had been reduced to your crutch at this point; he bore the entirety of your weight without batting an eye because your own legs were too wobbly to do it yourself. 

“I know,” he murmured, maneuvering through the crowd. “Hold it together, we’re almost there.”

The first step outside felt like entering Heaven. Nanami basked in the cleanliness of the chilly night air, gulping down a big breath of fresh oxygen that hadn’t been tainted by marijuana smoke. But suddenly, you’re detaching yourself from his hip and he’s bewildered by your sudden need for proximity. “Y/n—”

He turns to face you, only to be met with the crown of your head. Doubled over at the waist, hands on the lower fraction of your thighs, you vomit onto the dewy pavement… and his shoes. Nanami’s cursing once more, drawing closer despite how much you obviously don’t want him to. “Alright,” he coos in exasperation, gathering your hair into a bundle and holding it away from the splash zone. “It’s alright, get it out.”

“You’re… Did I just puke on y-your feet?” Your voice is croaky, something of a mixture of embarrassment and illness. You can’t even look at him. 

“Stand up,” Nanami tells you. He’s unbending you, straightening your body upright with a hand pressing your back in from his bowed shape. “Can you look at me?”

You pout, childlike. “No.” You’re looking at his shoes, the toes slick with remnants of your stomach acid. 

“They’re just shoes, I have a million pairs.” His head cocks to a tilt. “Would you look at me, please?”

You’re sighing, but looking up to him nonetheless. Gazing up with big, glossy eyes and wet lashes that clumped together through tears. Eyeliner diluted and cradling your undereyes in a dark embrace. You wipe your mouth with the back of a palm, smearing shimmery gloss out of the confines of your lip line. It’s all so nauseatingly familiar, this pitiful display. Nanami decides he hates seeing you like this. 

“I’m sorry,” you chirp. 

“Don’t apologize.” 

“I’ll pay for them.”

Nanami puts a hand on your shoulder when he notices the slant in your posture. “Cut it out, that’s entirely unnecessary.” He looks around the parking lot, full of vehicles. They catch the glint from the yellowish street lamps. “Did you drive here?” He thinks it’s unlikely, seeing as you let yourself fall under such intoxication. You weren’t so irresponsible; if you drove here, you would’ve made sure you’d be able to drive home too, like he did. 

You’re shaking your head. “Caught a train.”

Nanami nods, pleased. “Good. That’s good.” With all the grace and gentleness in the world, the man loops your limp arm back around his nape, securing you against his oblique with a sturdy arm snaked around your waist. Everything is ginger, lest he upset your stomach again. “Are you good to walk?”

“Yeah, I think I’m alright.”

“Then let me take you to my car.”

That pulls a frown from you. “You don’t need—need to drive me there, Nana’. The station—” Hiccup “It’s just down the road.”

The blonde glowers. “You can barely stand on your own, public transportation is out of the question.” Like Hell he’s going to let an obviously inebriated, attractive young woman such as yourself ride the subway alone. Please, don’t make him laugh. “I’m driving you home.”

“It’s out of your way.”

“I don’t care.”

It’s a slow race, but Nanami eventually hauls you to his car parked at the entrance of the lot. A midnight shade Maserati; he doesn’t miss the way you gawk at his luxurious ride. “If I had a car like this, I’d never leave it.” He laughs. You smack his bicep. “I’m not kidding, I’d sleep in this thing. She’s gorgeous.”

“She says thank you,” he huffs his response. Nanami leans you up against the side of his car, pinning you between its door and his thigh while he opens the passenger door. “Watch your head.” His hand curls around the roof’s ledge, a makeshift cushion to protect your skull as you duck into the car seat. Immediately, you’re slumping back into the comfortable leather interior, moaning out quiet mewls of exhaustion. 

“Yeah, I’d definitely sleep in here.”

“Keep those eyes open.” The door swings shut, and Nanami makes haste when rounding the rear of his car to the driver’s side. He had barely toed the line of sobriety anyways, but knocking a stranger on his ass was definitely more than enough to woosh any semblance of haziness from his veins. Nanami wouldn’t think about driving—wouldn’t think about putting you or anyone else on the road in danger—if he felt even the slightest bit impaired by the scotch. Behind the wheel, the man leans across the center console to grab your seat’s safety belt, carefully dragging it over your chest and clipping it into the buckle. “I need your address first, then you can knock out.”

“My address…” You ponder, lips pursed and eyes blinking at a snail’s pace. Sleepiness prevails, and you fall in and out of slumber, head lolling and cheek mashed up against your shoulder. 

Nanami carps, unappreciative of your inability to stay awake long enough for this much needed conversation. “Hey,” he bleats, patting the top of your thigh. “Come on, Y/n. I need to know where you live.”

You whine, rolling your eyes at his persistence. “The city.”

“You live in the city.” Nanami deadpans at the useless information you’ve just spared. 

“Mm.” And then you’re drifting back to sleep. 

Nanami pinches high on the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger, over the permanent divets where his glasses have drilled into his skin. The contortment of his fingers sends another spike of pain over his bruising knuckles. “Wake up and give me a proper address.” He supposes his heated seats aren’t doing much to stave off your tiredness, so he presses his knuckle into the off button. You whine. 

“I don’t remember, okay?”

That’s how you ended up at Nanami’s home, tucked under his lavish sheets in his bed that’s entirely too big for one person. Your outfit had been neatly folded and piled upon his dresser, exchanged for one of his tee shirts and a pair of sweatpants that were cinched at the waist. He helped you into his clothes—with your undivided consent, of course. A completely clinical and respectful process; Nanami looked elsewhere, acting as a handle for you to hold onto as you stepped into the oversized pants he held open for you. They were far too wide, falling off your hips, so he took the time to tie a precious, little bow with the drawstrings. 

“Comfy?” He asks upon his return to the bedroom, holding a glass of tap water in one hand, a bottle of pills rattling in the other. You’re exactly where he left you; swimming in his bedsheets, the comforter hoisted up to your chest. Nanami sets the water down on the bedside table, then takes a seat on the edge of his mattress, working the bottle open. 

“I’ve never been more comfortable,” you sigh blissfully, taking a deep inhale. “Your blankets smell good.”

The blonde can’t help his chuckle. “I’ll give you the name of the laundry detergent I use tomorrow.” With deft fingers, he plucks two small tablets, light pain medication, and sets the pair on the table next to your water glass. 

“Promise?” Your tongue pokes out from between your teeth, playful. He chides an airy yes, snapping the tylenol bottle shut. Then, your smile fades; you’re averting your eyes, fixing them somewhere over to the blank canvas of Nanami’s gray, bedroom wall. “Hey, um…” He watched the side of your face, watches the flex of your jawline and the tension in your neck. “Did I—I didn’t really throw up on you, right?”

You rub at your temple, like you’re trying to find the memory but it’s just out of reach. “No,” he replies instantly, steadily, like it’s not a complete lie. Like his bile-ridden shoes aren’t sitting outside on his front door step, waiting to be cleaned. “You don’t remember?”

“It’s fuzzy,” you grumble, frustrated with yourself. “I had too much.”

Normal circumstances permitted, Nanami would’ve totally took this opportunity to have his I told you so moment. But you already looked  upset, maybe a little bit sick still, so he bit his tongue for you. “Some drunk imbecile interrupted us. We shared words, and then he got sick on us.” He was pleased with himself, his story must’ve been believable with the way you nodded along. 

“And then you punched him, right?”

His face drops. “That’s what you remember?”

Your shrug. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget it, Nanami. Not for my entire life.”

“Kento.” You hum, confused, so he reiterates, “I mean, call me Kento. I just clothed you, I’d say we’re close enough.” It’s true, you guys were getting more and more comfortable together by the day. Even outside of work and the management project, Nanami and you share text conversations more frequently than he would’ve ever imagined. And these little hangouts—granted, only two have been executed thus far—have been the most fun he’s had in ages. More fun than he’d ever hope to have with his ‘friendly’ business colleagues. You’re his friend. 

You, Y/n L/n, are his friend. What a strange fucking twist of events, it nearly gives Nanami whiplash. 

“Ken… To…” You speak each syllable slowly, peeking up at him through your eyelashes. He nods, grinning easily. Happy. “Kento, Kento, Ken—”

“Okay, okay enough.” He rises, arms raised as he gives a hearty stretch to his back. “It’s bedtime. Over there,” Nanami points at a door, “is the bathroom if you need it. You’ve got water here, and make sure you take the medicine in the mornings. You’re going to have a terrible migraine.”

“Wait, where are you gonna go?”

“I’ll take the couch for tonight.”

“Kento…” You whine, and he really wished you wouldn’t do that. “C’mere. There’s room.”

You’re patting the expansive open space beside you, peeling back the heavy blankets. It’s an enticing offer, to slip in beside you and feed off your body heat. To hold you to him and— Stop, what are you thinking? Stupid. “I think it’s best we don’t. Sorry.” And then he’s fleeing to the door because the way in which he worded that made the depths of his soul curl with cringe. Nanami bids you a polite sleep well before leaving you to the darkness, though he has enough sense left to keep the door cracked just in case you should yell for him in the night. 

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[seonghwaddict]

the lamb and the wolf — park seonghwa

in which all he wanted was someone to love in his dark, lonely world… and then you came along.

hades!park seonghwa x fem!reader. genre. strangers to lovers. fluff. smut. warnings. he’s literally obsessed with mc, ankle injury, alcohol consumption, mention of cannibalism as a metaphor for love but it’s not really explicit, mc is described as innocent, explicit sexual content mdni, oral (f. receiving), unprotected, soft dom!hwa, big dick!hwa, praise, creampie. wc. 7.2k. rating. mature.

lilo’s notes. i’ve been working on this for two-ish months and i’m so happy to finally share it. writing this was fun, i love writing men infatuated with their lovers <33 the letter he reads does not belong to me and comes from “Albert Camus, María Casares. Correspondence (1944-1959)” which is a collection of love letters sent between camus and casares. this particular one is letter #95.

listening to. from persephone, kiki rockwell // sunlight, hozier // liquid smooth, mitski // cinnamon girl, lana del rey // nothing’s gonna hurt you baby, cigarettes after sex

masterlist.

the realm of the dead was terribly dark and cold and, as the name would suggest, barren of life. for seonghwa, the ruler of the underworld who had spent thousands of years in the realm, this hadn’t been a problem before. yet, he couldn’t deny the temptation of the distant sounds of chirping birds and gentle breezes humming through the air above.

he was, of course, free to leave whenever he wished to but more often than not he was busy—ruling over the souls that had passed or meetings with nymphs and the other deities. there had never been an inclination to explore, but somehow he found himself taking curious steps out of the cave entrance to his world.

and that’s where he saw you.

you weren’t a long way away from the entrance to the underworld, idling in a meadow and picking flowers and berries in a woven basket. the sunlight glinted off your rich skin, glistening on you manicured nails as your hands tended to the plants. the slow wind wafted through your soft-looking hair, making it dance in the air. he was entranced by the way the skirt of your dainty silk dress flowed as you moved around, hypnotised by the ivory fabric folding and brushing against your ankle with every step. you were beautiful in every sense of the word—but not the soft and comforting kind. no, not at all. in fact, he was quite alarmed by the notion of being so infatuated with a mortal at first glance.

seonghwa knew he was doomed from the moment he laid eyes on you. he wanted nothing more than for you to glance his way, willing to split himself in half or carve his heart right out of his chest to get a second of your attention. you spoke to yourself softly, muttering about how pretty you thought the little branch of lilac you plucked out of a bush was.

oh, how lovely your voice sounded; even the sun would not compare to it’s dulcet warmth.

a brilliant idea crossed his mind, one that he knew would get you to fall right in his grasp. and minutes later, he was able to conjure up a disturbingly realistic illusion of a rain storm. he descended back into his realm and all he had to do was wait.

you, however, flinched as the first droplets hit you. looking around for shelter, you spotted a cave entrance just a little way ahead, scrambling to sit there and wait for the storm to pass. the ground and walls felt cold against your body, nothing to separate your skin from the dark stone but your gown that was now soaked through and clung to your body.

minutes after you had sat down, a vaguely familiar scent breezed past you and had your head darting to look into the deeper part of the cave. there was no way it came from outside, not a single house in sight as the dewy smell of rain overtook the meadow. so your next most likely assumption was that it came from inside the cave. you stared into the seemingly endless abyss, squinting into the darkness for signs of, well, anything other than rocks and dirt.

and that’s when you saw it. a brief flickering flame, metres away from where you were sat. in the seconds that it lit, you could faintly make out what looked to be a staircase, descending further into a cave. an intrigued hum left you as you pushed yourself up from the ground and walked to the strange stairs, basket of berries and flowers left behind. there’s a reason they say curiosity killed the cat.

it was significantly colder as you stood at the top of the carved stairs, staring as far as you could see before they winded around and further into the unknown. another light came on, this time around the corner the stairs disappeared behind. with a final look at the exit of the cave, you began your unknowing descent into hell.

the light behind you flickered before going out, leaving you in darkness until you passed by the next torch, mounted on the damp stone. you planted your hand on the wall, afraid you’d lose your footing as each flame only lit the foreign path temporarily. the deeper you went, the colder you got. by the time you thought the stairs were endless, you could see faint puffs of white air emerging from your shaking lips with each breath you took. shivers ran through your body occasionally, your wet dress not doing anything to keep you warm.

just when you were going to give up and turn around to return to the surface, you stumbled at the unexpected absence of yet another step. your faint wince echoed through the small space as you rolled your ankle, instinctively holding yourself against the stone wall. your hand slipped from the wall for a second, a pebble falling and rolling until it stopped with an odd “clink.” you looked up in confusion to see what made the pebble stop with such a sound. looking with wide, bewildered eyes, a black and engraved set of double doors stood a few steps ahead of you. had they been there the whole time?

maybe someone lived there, someone who could help you. your father kept you safe and sound for as long as you could remember, teaching you to always see the best in people, rendering you a little sheltered and much too kind. perhaps this is what made you so trusting as you forced yourself to walk to the doors on limping legs. both doors had beautiful metal knockers mounted on them. the rusted brass resembled three dog heads, a heavy metal ring hanging from the snout of the dog in the middle. more than mildly nervous and with cold, shaking hands, you reached forward and tentatively lifted the ring of the right door before letting it knock against the dark wood.

moments later it swung open, held by a tall, pale-skinned man with slim fingers. for a moment you forgot what you were there for, caught off guard by the sharp eyes that looked down at you. your warm breath swirled in the air as you finally pieced together a sentence.

“i’m sorry, sir, but… i-i really meant to leave but i hurt my ankle…” you spoke quietly, your voice an octave higher than it usually was.

his gaze softened, the light of a torch on the wall reflecting in his dark eyes, and he smiled down at you as he opened the door wider and stepped aside. “oh, you poor thing. please, come inside.”

seonghwa watched you walk past him and into this home he had conjured up just for your arrival. it was quite dark, illuminated by a fireplace and candelabras decorating shelves and tables. he didn’t care enough to provide more light, completely entranced by the way you kneeled in front of the hearth, hands outstretched to warm them by the fire. they looked so much smaller compared to his. seeing you up close made his heart skip a beat, he wanted nothing more than to lay his hands on your smooth skin, run them through your damp hair, pat the thin and wet flowing dress dry and keep you warm. droplets of the rain ran from the top of you head down your face slowly, occasionally getting caught in your eyebrows or the corner of your beautiful lips.

he wondered fleetingly if they felt as soft as they looked. another bead of rain made it past your features, trailing past your jawline and neck. his eyes tracked it but when it disappeared under the fabric covering your chest, he refused to continue looking.

you felt his presence standing beside you a moment later, drawing your eyes—your naïve, innocent eyes—to look up at him. he offered you a hand to help you stand.

“come, love, let me take a look at your ankle,” he smiled at you kindly, pulling you up helpfully as you took his hand. once you stood, you stumbled slightly, accidentally putting weight on your injured ankle and wincing. one of his arm quickly looped itself around your waist, holding you up against him so you wouldn’t fall.

his touch was gentle yet you felt a certain firmness to it, feeling as if his warm hand was searing through your cold gown. your cheeks burned and you looked away shyly, something that had him biting back a smile as he guided you to sit at one of the sofas. he was mildly surprised by how small and delicate you felt in his arms. you felt fragile. there was something so seductive about that, the thought of breaking you in the most intimate of ways. but soon he had to let you go. after you settled into the cushions of the seat, his movements caught your eye.

your jaw nearly dropped when you saw him kneeling on the ground before you. though you weren’t aware of it, something made you so special that you had a god getting on the ground on his knees in front of a mortal. his dark eyes found yours, voice as gentle as it had been the whole time.

“may i?”

when you gave him a small nod, not trusting yourself to say anything, his hand grazed your calf before gently wrapping around your ankle and lifting it to rest on his thigh. despite his intimidating and malicious role among the deities, he was softer with you than anyone could ever imagine. he slipped off your shoe but kept your sock on, dragging the ruffled trim just under your heel so he could inspect the swelling at your ankle. the ruffles tickled you as he moved it, eliciting the most melodic giggle he’d ever heard.

when he glanced up at you, a smile stretched your tempting lips and making your smooth cheeks swell as you looked back down at him. he couldn’t help but smile, endeared by everything you did.

“it tickles.” you explained through another giggle, looking down at him. as his gaze returned to your ankle, you took note of how close he was. if he leaned forward just a little he’d be able to brush his plump lips along your knees. he knew that, of course, since he planned it. every touch, every position, every word had been meticulously planned, it was no surprise to him how close be found himself.

well, other than you getting injured, everything had been planned.

his slender finger pressed against different areas of your swollen ankle with featherlight pressure, gauging where it hurt most. you winced occasionally, but a certain spot made you flinch and whimper.

“there?” he whispered, looking up at you. his gaze was still tender as he gazed at you, his fingers pressing against that spot again with just a little more pressure. you knew he needed to check if it was really that spot, but in reality he wanted nothing more than to hear those lovely sounds tumble from your lips. to his delight, you did just that, bottom lip quivering slightly with the sound as you nodded. his gaze fell to your lips and he imagined kissing you, sucking your lower lip into his mouth, but he refocused his thoughts on your injury quickly.

“how did you even hurt yourself like this?” his other hand moved to the knee of your uninjured leg, thumb brushing small circles soothingly.

“i missed a step on the stairs and rolled my ankle.” you frowned slightly, the cute downturn if the corners of your lips almost making him coo at you. you leaned forward to catch a glimpse of your ankle but it was hard to see in the dim light provided by the fireplace and various candelabras around on shelves.

“i see… how careless of you, dear,” he tutted, fingers tapping against your knee absentmindedly, “but it’s okay, don’t worry. it’s just a small injury… wait here for a moment while i go get something, alright?”

you nodded once more and he got up, disappearing through a doorway as your eyes traced over his figure. you looked around the room as you waited patiently. it was a simple sitting room slash entrance area at first glance, but upon looking closer you found there were many little breathtaking details littered around for those who cared enough to find them. intricately embroidered golden designs decorating the wine red carpet beneath your feet, the shelves lining the wall on either side of the fireplace stocked with worn books neatly.

silent brisk steps drew your eyes back to him as the handsome stranger returned, a little glass bottle and roll of bandages held in his hands. his cheeks warmed at the sight of you sitting there so pretty and obediently. seonghwa kneeled in front of you once again and brought your foot to the same position as before.

“i’m going to apply this,” he held up the bottle for you to see, a mysterious deep blue liquid swishing around inside, “it’ll be cold and it might hurt a bit, but i promise to be gentle, okay?” after you nodded silently, he uncapped the bottle and poured a bit into his hand. “i’ll need you to stay still and relax. can you do that for me, love?”

after you gave him a muttered ‘yes’ he flattened his palm over the swelling. true to his word, the liquid he had poured into his hand was icy cold and stung a little as he rubbed it in as gently as possible. if you had to describe the feeling, you’d compared it to hundred of pinpricks concentrated on one area. it was uncomfortable, to say the least.

your eyes squeezed shut and your hands dug into the couch beneath you. you felt his touch leave your knee but a second later his hand found it’s way to yours, slipping between your fingers for you to hold him instead of tearing up his couch. he squeezed reassuringly and his heart swelled when you squeezed back.

before you knew it, his warm voice filled the silence of the room. “all done. you can open your eyes now, darling, you did so well.”

you eyes opened slowly at his words and looked down. he was peering up at you with round caring eyes, making your stomach flutter. his hand on your ankle lingered before he pulled away so you could have a look at the bandages wrapped around it skilfully, his other hand still intertwined with yours.

“thank you…?” you trailed off, indirectly asking for his name. despite him being a stranger, you somehow trusted this handsome man with your life. perhaps it was because he had shown you nothing but kindness thus far, every one of his actions illuminating warmth and care.

“of course. the ointment works fairly quickly, so you should be free to walk around just fine for a few hours at least,” his lips tugged into a small grin. he thought you were so cute, too shy to be upfront about your interest in him.

he wasn’t blind, your increased heart rate below his touch didn’t go unnoticed by him. for a moment, he considered lying to you—introducing you to an identity that didn’t exist in fear that you’d run away from him once he revealed himself. however, soon enough he came to the conclusion that he wanted you to love him, not some made up caricature. besides, he didn’t have to tell you about his occupation just yet. “it’s seonghwa.”

you tested the syllables on your tongue and he could’ve sworn honey poured right out of your mouth with how sweet you sounded. he nodded encouragingly and you gave him your name. he decided it fit you and your serene disposition. you watched with a warming face as he lifted your hand to his lips, eyes locked on yours as he kissed your knuckles.

“pleasure to make your acquaintance, love.” he winked smoothly before standing from the ground, pulling you off the couch with him. his eyes glanced down at your dress. it was still wet but not nearly as drenched as it was before, though it still clung to your body, teasing him. “you must be uncomfortable. if you want, i probably have a change of clothes for you.”

you smiled at his invitation gratefully, nodding. “i’d love that, thank you.”

“down that hall,” he pointed in the direction he went earlier to get that odd liquid, “the second door on the right is a bedroom. you’ll find some clothes in the closet, i think they’ll fit you.”

you took a step towards the hall before stopping and turning around to look at him with a questioning gaze. it didn’t take a genius to figure out what you were thinking. he fumbled to find a convincing excuse, speaking slowly. “my, uh, sister used to live with me but she moved away recently, so her clothes are still there.”

the explanation satisfied you and he watched as you followed his instructions, eyes drawn to the way you hips swayed slightly with each step. you stepped through the door he told you to, yellow candlelight seeping into the hallway before you closed it behind you. but it didn’t close fully and left you visible through the sliver. he forced his eyes away when he caught a glimpse of you pulling your gown off yourself.

just as he said, you found many suitable clothes in the shelves of the wooden dresser. the room itself was quite plain, though the bed looked more than comfortable. there were many options, though all of them seemed to be dresses of some kind. long or short, dark or pastel, silk or cotton, and everything in between. finally you settled on a flowy white nightgown, the skirt brushing against your thighs. you pulled on some clean socks and slippers and dried your hair as best you could with a towel you found before stepping out to join him in the sitting room again.

but when you got there, he was nowhere to be found. looking around in confusion, you breathed a sigh if relief when you heard him call your name for another room, beckoning you to join him. upon entering said room, it quickly became apparent it was a dining room.

the walls were practically black, much like the rest of the house so far, and made the room appear much darker than it probably actually was despite the multiple candelabras on the long wooden table and the extravagant chandelier hanging from the ceiling. he sat at the chair on the left of the head of the table, a meal set in front of the head. he gestured for you take a seat in front of it. you obliged quickly.

his eyes roamed over your figure, lips parting in a soft exhale at the sight of your bare thighs. fleetingly, he came to the conclusion he wanted to bury his head between them, let them squeeze and suffocate him as he ravished you. before he could further entertain those thoughts, the squeak of the chair brought him out of his head.

“i figured you’d be hungry, so i made a little something for you,” he spoke as you got comfortable in the seat, pushing a glass of water towards you, “i hope it’s up to your standards, dear.”

you gazed down at the bowl of what appeared to be chicken soup with vegetables before looking back up at him. “you’re too kind, really, you didn’t have to do all this for me.”

he was more than delighted by your kindness and manners, looking at him so cutely with the candlelight dancing in your eyes magically. “no but i did have to. i can’t have you sitting here, injured and starved… plus, it’s nice to have company.”

“oh?” his final sentence piqued your interest, fiddling with the handle of your spoon. “you don’t get a lot of company?”

he really didn’t, other than the souls that made down here after their bodies passed on. but that’s a conversation for another time. he shook his head slightly, lifting a glass of wine you hadn’t noticed before to his lips. he let it sit in his mouth for a moment before swallowing it and returning his gaze to you.

“not very often, no…” he explained slowly, setting the glass back on the table with a quiet clink before folding his hands beside it, elegant as ever, “people don’t tend to come all the way down here and i don’t tend to invite people over.”

a frown tugged at you lips and you turned your gaze away, feeling slightly ashamed. “i’m sorry to have bothered your peace then, seonghwa.”

he tensed, hands gripping each other just a little tighter. why on earth were you ashamed, why were you apologising? he reached over and placed a hand over your free one, momentarily distracted by how soft it felt in his grip before he was quick to reassure you. “oh no, darling, don’t you dare apologise. you’re not bothering me at all, really. it’s been a long time since i’ve enjoyed someone’s company this much.”

“r-really?” you finally looked at him again, the warmth returning to his stomach as he faintly noticed one of the straps threatening to fall off your shoulder.

“really,” he reaffirmed, turning your hand over so he could hold it properly, “i should be thanking you, if anything.”

you averted your gaze once again, this time feeling shy rather than ashamed; a fact that had him grinning. soon enough, you began eating your soup, humming at the taste approvingly after the first taste. you conversed leisurely as you ate, jumping from subject to subject naturally as if you’d known each other for years. you asked him why he wasn’t eating with you, to which he said he’d already eaten and didn’t feel hungry. this was, of course, a lie since deities like him don’t need to eat anyway.

eventually, you finished, slumping back in your seat with a yawn. “that was absolutely amazing. thank you, hwa.”

the new nickname had his cheeks tinting a soft pink but he hid it quickly. he watched you yawn. somehow everything you did felt adorable to him, the urge to scoop you up in his arms to hold you tightly and kiss you softly growing stronger by the second. if he weren’t a man with unrivalled self-restraint and patience, he would’ve done it by now.

“someone’s tired, huh?” he cooed at you, crossing one leg over the other. “you should go sleep in the room you got the clothes from. i’d prefer for you to stay until your ankle is fully healed, just in case.”

you nodded slowly, another yawn ripped from your throat as you got up and stretched your arms over your head. the movement caused the skirt of your nightgown to ride up, his breath hitching as he realised if it went up any further head be able to see your lacy white undergarments you’d borrowed from the dresser too. he distracted himself with a chuckle, standing up and guiding you out of the dining room to the bedroom by the small of your back.

before you knew it, you were on your back on the bed of the bedroom that supposedly belonged to his sister. your dress fell over your body entrancingly, tempting his hungry eyes as he stood over you, adoring the way your hair laid on the satin pillow. you turned to your side and curled up with your knees pulled to your chest. he caught a glimpse of your lacy panties before they fell over the swell of your ass as if they hadn’t moved in the first place.

thoughts swarmed his mind, none of them appropriate. he imagined your legs wrapped around his waist, burying himself into the curve of your neck, sculpted for his face to fit right there. he longed to feel your soft curves against his fingers, not a single layer of clothing separating you.

“hwa?” the way you said his name made his thoughts snap to reality as his eyes found yours. the nickname sounded so wonderful with your voice, he wanted to bottle up the sound and keep it safe on a shelf for the rest of eternity. not only that, but the way you looked at him, lips parted softly with small breaths, cheeks flushed, and eyes looking wide and innocent. oh, how innocent you smelled to him. he was torn between preserving it and corrupting it.

“yes, love?” he whispered back, brushing a strand of your hair from you face as casually as possible.

“thank you… for everything,” you whispered, peering up at him with those same glittering round eyes, “i’ll be sure to repay you for your kindness when i can.”

“there’s no need, really. it’s nothing,” he chuckled quietly, gaze flitting all over your features—you fluttering eyelashes, the slope of your nose, the curve of your neck, the slight upturn of the corners of your lips. he took a deep breath as discreetly as possible, reminding himself that there was a chance he wouldn’t be able to convince you to stay with him, he shouldn’t get too attached just yet.

somehow, he held himself back from pulling you into his arms and kissing you breathless. he pulled his hand back after letting his thumb brush against your cheekbone for a moment.

“i’ll let you rest now,” he whispered, “sleep well. i’ll see you in the morning, love.”

you muttered a soft ‘goodnight, hwa’ in return before he was out of the room and shutting the door a second later.

the door clicked shut and you heard his footsteps getting more and more distant. you let out another quiet yawn, pulling the comfortable blanket over your body and up to your chin. your room was quiet, the silence oddly comforting. something about the place had that feel and despite being so far underground, it didn’t feel claustrophobic at all. you compared it to home, your parents always bickering with each other or taking out their frustrations on you. it felt nice to be in a quiet space again, and you briefly wondered if you could stay a little longer than another day.

your eyelids became heavier with each blink in the dark before they ultimately closed completely, pulling you into a deep sleep.

though you didn’t expect it to last so long, over a week passed and you were still staying with him in his little cave house. you didn’t mind, of course, since he took such great care of you. in the week, you’d grown closer, treating each other like lovers though neither of you brought it up. he’d let you sit in his lap and you’d let him brush his fingers through your hair.

you stirred awake, one day short of having spent two weeks with him. today was one of those days where he’d gone out to run some errands, trusting you enough to leave you alone. with not much to do, you usually sat in his little library or took a nap until the evening. this time you chose the latter.

some hair clung to the thin layer of sweat on your forehead, your blanket displaced and only covering half of your left leg, having kicked it off in your sleep. for a second you couldn’t remember where you were, but memories of the previous days returned quickly and you relaxed before sitting up and looking around the room. the candle had stayed on overnight, providing light in a place where windows really couldn’t exist.

there was no indication of the time other than a clock on one of the bedside tables. assuming it was functional and accurate, it was 10:24 in the evening. you hummed, surprised you’d slept so much when usually you’d be awake hours before that. with a quiet groan, you realised there was no point in going back to bed, pulling yourself off the mattress and to the door.

you reached for the door handle but paused, pulling back to check yourself in the mirror. not wanting to look like a mess in front of seonghwa, you readjusted your dress so it sat on your body properly and tried your best to make your hair appear less messy. only then did you tiptoe your way out of your bedroom and to the sitting room.

he was back already, sat on the couch and readings a book, back straight and one leg crossed elegantly over the other. he wore something different. instead of the loose white shirt, black slacks and black corset, he now wore a black vest that had sheer black sleeves with black slacks. the neckline of his vest dipped low, revealing the lean muscles of his chest. you forced yourself to look away, settling into the armchair across from him, separated by a long coffee table.

“i don’t bite, you know,” he spoke without looking up from his book, sounding amused that you sat so far away after how close you’d been the night before.

your daze cracked, chuckling as you stood and walking around the coffee table to sit beside him on his right. though you weren’t touching, a few centimetres of space between you, you could feel his body heat radiating off him. he glanced down at your exposed thighs briefly before continuing to read, or at least trying to. his eyes were stuck on the same line for a minute, distracted by the way you leaned your head on his shoulder to read with him.

he contemplated pulling you onto his lap, missing the feel of your weight against him like the night before. you had insisted for him to carry you to bed, pouty and tired, and when he did, he had a hard time letting go of you and ended up sitting with his back against the headboard with you snuggled safely on his lap until you fell asleep.

knowing you wouldn’t mind, he moved his right arm around your waist, slipping his hand down to your hip to make pulling you onto his lap easier. once you were there, straddling him so prettily, he let you rest the side of your head on his shoulder, your nose brushing against his neck as he tried his best to maintain his focus on his book. to the world he was a merciless king, but with you in his lap he was tender and caring.

you shifted your head, trying to look down at the book he was reading. your breath tickled him as you spoke. “what’re you reading?”

“oh,” he turned the book over for you to see the title. he let you read over, revelling in the feeling of your nose and lips accidentally grazing his neck. it tested every inch if his patience. feeling your heart beat against his chest and wanting so desperately to crawl into your ribcage, cradling your heart in his hands and peppering the beating muscle with kisses. he cleared his throat. “it’s a collection of poetry and letters.”

“you like poetry?” you giggled quietly and he swore he could taste the sweetness of it.

“i do,” he nodded, the tips of his ears dusted a rosy pink, “would you like me to read some to you?”

the offer made you feel giddy for some reason, glancing up at him with a grin as you nodded. you could only imagine how poetry would sound spoken by his divine voice.

seonghwa snickered at your excitement, flipping through the pages of his book to find something worthy of your ears. he stopped at a page near the end, his hand dropping back to your hip as he began reading. he traced a finger over your hipbone as he did, the light pressure making you squirm lightly in his lap.

“i have never surrendered myself entirely to anyone but you, and only recently. and to let my heart speak, when i am pressed against you, is an emotion and a peace that overflows all imagination.”

by the time he finished reading it, you were holding your breath, heart hammering against your ribs so hard you had no doubt he’d be able to feel it. the way he said it sounded less like a recitation and more like a confession, your stomach buzzing with anticipation as you sat up to look at him face to face, eye to eye, your hands resting on his chest.

your touch drove him to insanity. the soft press of your fingers against his vest, making it that much harder to hold himself back. he wanted to hold you against him forever. to inhale your scent so that his lungs would depend on you and only you. to touch you, to kiss you, to knit your flesh to his so you’d never leave him, to devour you, consume you. he wanted to do it all.

he could only whisper, “may i?”

his words echoed what he said before tending to your ankle two weeks prior, the day you first met him. that felt so long ago, a nostalgic smile tugging at your lips as you nodded.

his hand squeezed you hip gently while the other moved to cup your jaw, wasting no time in pulling your face to his. it was a slow, reverent kiss that filled every inch of your senses with warmth. your lips felt softer than he imagined. when your lips finally touched, your fingers curled into his vest, sighing against his lips softly.

he shuddered at the sound, pulling your hips tighter against him and pressing his lips against yours a little harder, your body perfectly molded to his as if that’s where you belonged. his tongue ran along your bottom lip, not pushing into your mouth, just tasting you enough to satiate his growing hunger. despite the way your hips rolled against him, guided by his hand and eliciting subtle gasps against his lips, he couldn’t help but still find you so sweet, so innocent, as you let him kiss you breathless.

in a way, you reminded him of a little lamb, hunted by a wolf. one could say you had tamed him. he could easily tear out your throat, add you to his collection of souls, yet he decided to kiss you instead. kiss you so softly your cheeks warmed.

the next time your eyes fluttered open, you somehow found yourself in your room, still on his lap as he sat on the edge. his kisses slowed, being replaced with repeated pecks before he pulled away fully to rest his forehead against yours, panting.

he sighed your name and for a second you felt the world stop, the sound making your head spin. “darling, please, let me taste you.”

your breath hitched at his whispered request, suddenly aware of your panties sticking to your wet core. wordlessly, you nodded and he manoeuvred you to lay on your back, making sure your head rested on your pillow comfortably.

he kissed your forehead, then your lips. from there he kissed his way further down over your nightgown—your jaw, neck, shoulder, collarbone, the valley of your breast, your stomach, hipbones, the top of your pelvis—all the while murmuring praises of how beautiful you were. his hands rested on your waist and moved down to your thighs, spreading them apart without resistance as he kneeled between them.

with a final look at your curious face, looking down and following his every action with your eyes, he dragged the end of your skirt up, revealing more and more of your smooth thighs and baby blue cotton panties. he thought they were cute as he let the dress bunch up at your waist, leaning down to kiss the little satin bow of your undergarments before hooking his finger through them.

he began dragging them down but stopped abruptly when you place a hand over his own, worried eyes darting to look at you. all you had to do was say the word and he’d stop.

“no one has ever… you know,” you blushed, too shy to say no one had ever eaten you out, only giving your lower half a meaningful glance.

relieved, he chuckled lowly and kissed the hand atop his. “you know i’ll be careful, darling. just relax, okay?”

once you relaxed as he told you to, he slipped his fingers between yours, using his other hand to slip your underwear down and off you, tossing them in a random direction before finally taking a look at the parts of you he craved the most. he nearly moaned at the sight of your folds, glistening in the dim light as your engorged clit begged for his attention.

leaning down to kiss your inner thighs first, his tongue slid between your folds, licking an experimental stripe from your hole to your clit, drawing a soft whine from you. he himself groaned at the taste, the sweet nectar that seeped from your body.

“fuck, you taste so good.”

your thighs quivered around his head as he pushed his face deep into your heat, lapping up your juices and sucking at your nub with the desperation of a starved man. each prod of his tongue had your breath shaking, whimpering, as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. before, you figured it would feel good, but not quite this delicious.

when you came, you came with a faint cry of his name, body arching of the bed. your hand that didn’t hold his moved to his hair at some point during his meal, tugging softly as your juices gushed out and you twitched from overstimulation, his tongue unrelenting and determined to swallow every last drop of your release.

he pulled away as you tugged at his hair, moving his torso up your body to kiss you. it was less a kiss and more feverish presses against each other, his tongue wandering between your teeth and making you taste yourself. you couldn’t taste much, but to his sensitive taste buds you were the sweetest thing he’d ever had.

his hips pressed against yours and your breath hitched, feeling the weight of his erection straining against his pants and nudging your aching clit. he pulled back from your lips, searching your eyes for any sign that you wanted to stop. but you only nodded encouragingly and he grinned, his lips moving to your neck as he helped you sit up so he could pull your dress off you and finally see everything he’d been fantasising about.

he detached his lips from your pulse point to pull it the rest of the way and toss it in a random direction, his eyes trained on your breasts. they were just as pretty as he imagined, nudging you to lay down again so he could take one erect nipple into his mouth and suck and lick and kiss it and around it.

“you look so pretty right now, love,” he muttered against your skin as he kissed his way to your other breast, his hands working on releasing himself from his pants while yours unbuttoned his vest, hands shaking with want.

you closed your eyes and leaned your head back against your pillow, your fingers gripping onto his bare shoulders as he dragged his tip through your folds, gathering your wetness. he kissed your cheek.

“tell me if anything hurts, okay?”

only once you breathed an ‘okay’ did he begin pushing in. he was blessed with a cock so big and perfect it hit every sensitive spot in your walls with precision as his length filled you slowly. his tip alone had you gasping softly, moaning incoherently as your eyes rolled back and fell shut, the stretch somehow pleasing you.

when he bottomed out, his eyes were drawn to the way he could see himself pressing through the bottom of your stomach, groaning as he passed his hand over the area and felt the bump. he stilled inside you, not moving until you told him so.

“p-please move, hwa.”

his pace throughout was relaxed, slow but not painfully slow, just enough roughness to his grinds to leave you breathless without tipping you over the edge just yet. it was when his hand slipped under your waist and angled you differently that you began feeling the familiar knot tighten in your abdomen.

he had a hard time stopping himself from releasing the moment he entered you, your walls hugging him so perfectly he choked back a moan with each stroke. everything about you felt as if you’d been made for him to worship, for him to indulge in. before you had come along, there was that occasional craving of romance, of wanting someone. he longed for someone to hold his hand, whose eyes replied to his so lovingly.

and there you were, beneath him, squeezing one of his hands while your dilated pupils showed him just how much you wanted him too.

you bit down on your bottom lip to hold back your sounds, something that made him chuckle and kiss the bridge of your nose. “don’t be shy, i want to hear you.”

his quiet praises made your face warm, letting out the softest of moans as his words shot straight to your core.

“you take me so well, love.” “you’re so precious and all mine.” “keep your eyes on me, darling.”

at some point his deep slow strokes grew needy and faster, pounding against your g-spot repeatedly as moans and whimpers of the two of you filled the room, hot breaths mingling with each other. your next orgasm crashed down on you with little warning, your walls squeezing around him as he muffled your sounds with his lips.

he came soon after that, filling you with his release after you had told him it was okay. his face dropped into the crook of your neck, cock twitching until his body slumped against yours.

after cleaning you up with a damp towel and slipping a new pair of panties over your legs, he joined you in bed once more and wrapped his arms around you. your legs tangled together and your chest pressed against his, your head tucked under his chin as you drifted back to sleep, lazy kisses placed onto the crown of your head.

he sighed softly and shut his eyes, filled with thoughts. now that he’s had you, he could hardly see himself letting go of you. but why would he? you were all he wanted and more.

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

[peachesofteal]

Ghoap x female reader / 18+

Everything was fine.

Your phone was quiet, but that didn’t mean anything. You would wait. You’ve waited before.

Sometimes it took a while for them to ring. They had a life together, a home, things to take care of. They had lives to rebuild every time they touched down, got home, got out of their work clothes. Pieces to patch, blood to wash clean.

You weren’t their girlfriend. They aren’t beholden to you, there’s no sacred vow tethering the three of you, no promises or pledges. You don’t know Johnny’s middle name, or Simon’s, anything about their families, their private lives. You barely knew about their jobs, only holding the scraps tossed to questions lobbed back and forth across pillows. They leave little marks across your mind, little spots of scars, knowledge scratched into your skin, sunk into your body, but never too much.

You weren’t a part of their life, really.

You were a part of the dark hours. The soft ones. You were in the orange rays of sunlight cresting over the city, and the emerald abyss of pitch black night. You were the flickering yellow street light, the grey blue smoke of Simon’s cigarette. The in between. Here in the moment, gone with morning.

For months, you had spent their time home pressed between them, folded beneath them, balanced above them. They made you sing. Made you scream, made you cry.

But most of all, they made sure-

you understood the status quo.

“Say it.” Simon cradled your jaw, thumb and finger full of steel, like he was oblivious to Johnny beneath you, his cock sliding in and out of your body, his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, your back to his chest, eyes wide and mouth agape, Simon did not flinch.

“I- I’m not-“ a gasp, a groan, words bitten off when Johnny strokes faster, curved deep against the spot that makes you see stars. Sweat builds across your skin, slicking down your spine, and Johnny chases it, tongue sweeping salt clean. You swallow to try again. “I’m not- not yours.”

“Not ours.” Simon’s fingers wrapped around the engorged length of his cock, stroking leisurely, eyes half lidded. “You’re not ours, sweet girl. But we’ll take care of you, when you’re here.”

So, you fell into it. Fell into them. Got comfortable waiting for the phone to ring, going weeks or months at a time- holding your breath. You got into a rhythm, syncopated behind the swell of their voices, their bodies, their souls. Along for the ride. A passenger.

It was fine. You weren’t looking for anything serious anyway. Maybe someone to hang out with here and there, grab a drink, have some fun. All of these things, they gave you. All of these things were provided. Granted, you only went out with them to a dive around the corner, a dark, bottomless place with tar licked floors and worn away wooden bar. The kind with dusty stained glass pendants swinging over pool tables that have seen better days, wrought iron back patio furniture that squeaked when Simon would pull you onto his lap and hook the hem of your panties to the side to stare at your pussy, hungry and desperate glint in his gaze under the silver glow of moonlight. He’d flip up your dress and stroke you with the back of his knuckles, just the down the seam, cooing, telling you how lovely you look, asking how much you missed them.

They never took you out for meals, or dates, or anything like that. They kept you in bed, buried beneath them, wrung out, drained dry. They took and took and took until you had nothing left to give. They’d feed you, make you come, fill you up and put you to sleep. Rinse and repeat.

And it was all… fine.

Even tonight was fine. Johnny had emailed, said they were back in service range and they’d be around soon, if you weren’t busy. Typically, a phone call came later. Late, in small hours, when half the city slept.

So when you fell asleep to nothing, you weren’t surprised. They’d catch up with you.

They always did.

You didn’t hear from them the next day. You forced it away easily, didn’t let the unease nag at you, pasted a smile on your face for your friends when you agreed to meet them for dinner.

No strings. You’re not their girlfriend, you’re not theirs. You’re cool. It’s cool. You’re fine.

Besides, your friend had gotten a reservation at a very nice restaurant in one of those shiny new hotels that just went up.

You shoved the boys from your mind.

You were the cool girl. You were unaffected.

You’re fine.

“So how’s work?”

“Oh, it’s fine. You know, same shit different day.” You roll your eyes, touch light on the thin stem of a wine glass. The red is a shade darker than your nails, and your lips, and it tastes like sweet cherries soaked in acid. Stringent. Sweet. You’re about to reciprocate the question when the bulk of a man catches your eye, handsome width of a shoulder you’d know from a mile away.

Interest in your friend’s conversation evaporates, and your tongue turns tarnished, sticking in the back of your throat like an overgrown thorn.

It’s Simon. Your heart pounds, and you drink in the sight greedily, elated to see him outside of their flat, or in the bar. Thrilled to get a glimpse of him in the real world, in a restaurant, a real, tangible place, in a real, tangible moment.

“I’ll… be right back.” You manage, slipping from the both to the wall, openly gaping across a room full of diners. As he moves, you mirror it, coming closer and closer to a hallway, a lead off down to the bathrooms.

“Simon.” His name slips from your lips without permission, a build up of excitement and anxiety, all twisted into one heap that darts out in front of your intentions, your resolve. Not cool.

You expect him to be surprised, certainly. You expect to see that small spark, the little fire burning behind his irises, expect him sweep the length of your body.

You don’t expect the surprise to be blanketed with the white fog of indifference. The grey slab of a stone wall.

It confuses you. Startles you. And when you take a step-

Johnny turns the corner, an arm slung around the waist of a pretty, thin, blonde.

His lips part, brows knitting together in slow motion. The girl, their date, it seems, is oblivious. She only bats her eyelashes at Simon and then gazes up at Johnny, sweet and hopeful.

You turn cold. Your fingers go frigid, ice cracking through your veins and attacking your heart, slowing your pulse.

The room spins.

And you’re alone in it. Dining room chatter falls away, drowned out by the thrumming between your ears.

You’re alone. Alone, staring at them, trying to piece it all together, trying to breathe, trying to be-

Cool.

“I uh…” You teeter, precarious in your shoes that now feel like a mistake, like your dress is a mistake, being here is a mistake, getting up from the table-

You’re not their girlfriend. You’re not theirs.

“I’m just gonna… go.” You begin to backpedal. Johnny says your name, says it quietly, and takes a step, lurching forward, an animated corpse seeking its last meal.

“Bonnie, ye-“

“I’ll see you around.” You blurt, stepping back out of reach. Johnny’s fist clenches, and he casts a dubious glance towards Simon, who’s tense and focused on you. “See ya.” You croak, and then spin on your heel, trembling all the way out the door and into the cold, crisp air.

Very uncool.

[nachojaehyun]

you give good love

pairing. brother’s best friend! idol! dino + fem! reader

summary. as lee chan’s eyes met yours again, he could feel his consciousness slipping away from his soul. god damn, he thought to himself. when did this brat get so hot?

w.c. 5.10K

playlist. kind of based off of you give good love by whitney houston but not really i was just listening to it while writing this

warnings. [PLEASE READ] reader is hoshi’s sister, mentions of freak dino 🫢, smut under the cut, PWP, afab reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom chan, pussy eating from the BACK, uses of pet names, chan has a BIG dick, BULGE KINK, very little dirty talking, slight overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl please), creampie duh — 18+ MINORS DNI!

note. pi-cheollin is the reason i live and breathe. also i might write chunsunie x pi-cheollin fics soon 😭 also thank you guys so so so much for 2K notes on the wonwoo fic 🙇‍♀️ super grateful for all your love, more soon. this is also my first ever long fic, so i hope you like it. enjoy!

“so yeah, those are the dates and timings of the flight. now, check your schedule.”

soonyoung could hear the ruffling of paper as he waited on the phone. the air con blasted in his face, evaporating any signs of sweat from his pores.

“yeah, i think i’ll be able to make it!” your voice chirped. soonyoung couldn’t help the smile on his face. “thank god! also, don’t worry about being lonely, jeonghan hyung’s sister will also be there, and also wonwoo’s sister.”

“i haven’t seen them in so long! wow, a true trip down memory lane,” you sighed, finally setting aside the calendar on your lap. “they ask about you a lot, i told you to exchange contacts with them!” your brother scolded you.

“i may have forgotten… but all that aside, how much do i need to pack?” you nervously bit your lip, contemplating how much shopping you would need to do.

“it’s a summer trip for one week, basically a mini vacation. pack a good amount of shirts and tops and modest shorts. bring your grandma style swimsuits for the pool.”

“grandma style swimsuit? oh please! i didn’t work out all winter to wear a one-piece!” you complained, flexing your biceps in front of the mirror. “i’ll bring what i want to bring.”

“and if i see any of these perverts staring at you, i’ll chop your head off too, yeah?” soonyoung sighed. “yeah yeah, they are the perverts. and you’re the polished lamb of jesus who has never gawked at wonwoo’s sister right?”

your rhetorical question has your brother stunned as he gapes into the abyss, his mouth filling up with the cool air from the air con. “i’m… how did you—” he begins, only to be cut off by the doorbell of his shared apartment.

“that’s the others. look, i’ll leave now, but make sure to pack properly, okay? text me if you need anything. see you soon.”

with that, he hung up. you smiled as you set down your phone, already deciding the outfits in your head.

as you walked over to your closet, your phone interrupted your thought process with a loud notification.

이찬: oi

이찬: did you get the plane tickets?

with a sigh, you texted back your brother’s best friend, who had somehow managed to find out about soonyoung inviting you.

you: ya, i will be coming.

you could see the dots bouncing on the screen, but you chose to ignore them. switching over to a music app, you started to scroll through and pick your random playlist.

your brother’s song, God of Music started to play and you threw your phone on the bed, enjoying the music.

you could text chan back later. he was really annoying, and it’s not like he meant anything to you anyway.

your phone buzzed with his notifications as you sorted through swim suits. “hmm, this makes my ass look fat right?”

as you landed in the jeju international airport, you gathered your luggage and made your way to the gates.

your brother was already waiting outside, clad in a mask and a cap. wonwoo and his sister accompanied him, smiling and waving at you.

“hey guys!” you hugged them, before fixing the crop top that rode up your waist. “i missed you so much!” minji (wonwoo’s sister) squealed.

the four of you got in the car after shoving your luggage in the back. wonwoo sat next to your brother, scrolling through his phone as you and minji chatted their ears off.

soonyoung couldn’t help but peek at the rear view mirror ever so often, catching glances of minji and smiling to himself.

you wanted to call him out, but decided against embarrassing your brother so early into the trip.

within 30 minutes, you had reached the share house. it was a beautiful property, surrounded by greenery. the sounds of waves crashing on the beach wallowed around you as you dragged your suitcase up the ramp.

“eunsok is dying to meet you! we must make a group chat this time, so that we remember to check up on each other, yeah?” minji helped you with your handbag, smiling as you nodded enthusiastically.

in front of the main door, you took in a sharp breath, before pushing the mahogany portico open.

immediately inside, you were greeted by jeonghan, joshua and mingyu lounging about on the couch. however, upon the sound of your entrance, eunseok ran down the stairs, engulfing both you and minji in a bone-crushing hug.

“i missed you!” she screamed, nearly tackling you on the floor. with a giggle, you hugged her back. “me too! its just sad that sophie couldn’t join us.”

muttering agreements under their giggly breath, the two helped you get up, and greet the others.

as you answered jeonghan’s questions about your well-being, you heard heavy footsteps from the stairs.

lee chan’s body appeared downstairs. when his gaze countered yours, you choked on your words.

it had been nearly 5 years since you had seen him in person. and wow, had he changed. dino, as he was famously known as these days, sported much bigger muscles, and a sculpted face. his hairstyle was finally suiting his face, a beautiful contrast to the bowl cuts you had seen him in during childhood.

for the first time in your life, you actually looked at him. and boy, did he look good. the tank top he wore showed off his body as he walked towards you, checking you out silently.

he had to admit, you surprised him. your black crop top, barely there jean shorts, and long brown hair came as a huge shock to chan.

he had remembered you as the snot-faced bratty sister of his best friend. the girl in pigtails who would cry every time he brought up your crush in middle school.

as lee chan’s eyes met yours, he could feel his consciousness slipping away from his soul. god damn, he thought to himself. when did this brat get so hot?

“hi,” chan finally placed himself in front of you, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “hi,” you breathed out, clutching the handle of your suitcase tighter.

“oh, you guys are meeting after so long!” mingyu chuckled, his eyes wandering around the room as he noticed the tension between you and his youngest member.

“yeah,” you smiled, transfixed by chan’s eyes. his plush lips parted as he glanced at your glossy ones, before quickly scanning your face.

“okay, that’s enough of your weird staring contest,” soonyoung placed a hand on chan’s chest, pushing him back to create some distance between you two.

“i’ll help you get to your room,” he turned to you. “you’re lucky, since you get it to yourself, but its comparatively smaller and narrower than the others—”

“wait, weren’t we supposed to buy alcohol and meat from the store on the way back?” wonwoo suddenly remembered, making all the eyes in the room turn to him.

“shit!” minji slapped her forehead, tutting. “we’ll go get them then! you wanna come with?” she smiled at you, eunseok joining in.

“i think i should set up my things first yeah? but take soonyoung in my place,” you shoved your brother forward. “he’d love to go grocery shopping with you.”

minji’s cheeks flared up as she straightened her posture, nodding. “sure yeah.”

within minutes, wonwoo, minji, eunseok, soonyoung and mingyu headed off to the car, ready to buy crates of beer for the evening.

as the door shut behind him, jeonghan threaded his hands through his hair, smirking. “dino-yah,” he cooed. “why don’t you help her with her luggage?”

almost immediately, joshua joined in, egging on the maknae as both of you felt the heat creep up on your neck.

wordlessly, chan snatched your suitcase from your hand, beckoning you upstairs. you bowed at the two elder to you, before running up to chan.

he led you to a small room in the very corner of the second floor, opening the door with his leg as he walked in.

chan cleared his throat as you walked in, placing your hands on your bare waist. “so, this is your room.”

you nodded at him, taking in your space for the rest of the trip. the room was furnished with a queen sized bed, a love-seat in the corner, a small desk and chair and a balcony in the very end.

“this door,” chan walked over to a door that sat perpendicular to the entry. “this is the door to a common bathroom. its a jack and jill one, that connects to the room opposite to you.”

“oh? and who’s in the room opposite to me?” you questioned, raising your eyebrow. with a dramatic sigh, chan leaned against the bathroom door, swinging his head to meet your eyes.

“its me.”

your breath hitched as he gulped. “w-wow,” you stuttered out. “sounds great, chan. looks like we are forced together again,” you smirked, crossing your arms as you stared at him.

he knew what you were referring to.

back when you were kids, and way before the idiot in front of you had signed with Pledis, you and soonyoung had gone to his house for a sleepover. chan’s mother had insisted on having you sleep on the bed, since “the floor is no place for a lady to sleep.” you and chan shared the bed, while soonyoung dozed off on the ground.

you were 14 at that time, and you remember how you skin had heated up when chan inched closer to you. “there’s no one to save you from my tickles now, crybaby!” the 15 year old boy had threatened.

yet, chan could barely focus on the flashback, instead focusing on the way your breasts nearly fell out from the neckline of your top.

you noticed his staring. smirking, you drew closer, tightening the cross of your arms.

“what’s this now, you’re ogling at me?”

you had him cornered. chan’s back was against the wall at you forced yourself into his space, breasts touching his hard torso.

“i—in you dreams!” he lied through his teeth, nervousness oozing out of his soul as he stared down at your tits.

god, the things he would do to slot his dick between those beautiful, gorgeous, one of a kind—

“my eyes are up here, channie,” you stuck your tongue out at him, before backing away and walking up to your suitcase.

dino felt his blood rushing south as you bent over to pick your bag up and place it on the table.

you purposefully wiggled your ass, humming to yourself. “channie,” you called out, voice as sweet as a siren.

“yeah?” dino collected himself, shaking away the filth that plagued his mind. two can play that game, he decided, biting his lip.

“can you come help me put my things in the bathroom? i have too much to unpack.”

with a nod, he walked over to your space, his chest touching your back as he leaned over your shoulder. “why did you pack so much, hm?” he teased you, running his fingers down your smooth arms.

not backing down from the challenge, you pushed your ass against him, whipping your head to meet his eyes. “i just wanted to look good, y’know? in case there was a strong, buff, hot man i wanted to seduce.”

with a hiss at your movements, chan’s hands flew to your hips. “yeah? you’ve grown up so much that you seduce men now?”

“oh, i do a lot more than just seduce,” you giggled, skincare long forgotten on the desk as you turned around, hopping on the wooden platform as your arms loosely slung around his neck.

chan slotted his knee between your legs, the pervert in him alive and breathing at the sight of you. you were driving him insane.

how you had managed to change so much over a few years had him baffled. instead of worrying about soonyoung, chan thought with his dick.

“what do you do then?” he questioned, eyes trained on your lips as you spoke. you pushed your clothed cunt down on his knee, biting back a moan.

“i think i would rather show you what i do than tell you,” you whimpered out, darkened eyes peering into his hazy ones.

chan bent his knee further into you, causing a delicious moan to escape your throat. “getting bold now, aren’t you?”

before you could even comprehend his words, your pussy spoke before you, hips rutting into his knee. however, a sharp knock on the door interrupted your little hump session.

“chan? y/n?” seungcheol’s voice spoke from behind the door. “you guys in there?”

chan quickly separated from you, walking closer to the door to answer. “yeah, i’m just helping her with her stuff. what’s up?”

“well, we were ordering some take out, so if you guys could come down and give your preferences, it would be great.”

“yeah, be there in a second,” chan glanced back at you, your teary eyes meeting his. the fucked out expression on your face made his dick jump to life.

but the heat of the moment had passed, which painted both of your cheek's a deep shade of red. realization hit dino way faster than it hit you. shooting you a tight-lipped smile, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts.

with a sigh, chan left the room and left you breathless, panting as your senses slowly returned. the fire of lust in your stomach had dimmed slightly, as realization dawned on you.

what the fuck just happened? and why did you like it?

nightfall arrived faster than you expected. but the cool air surrounding the beach raised bumps on your skin as you shoved grilled meat down your throat.

seungkwan and mingyu worked on the grill, with vernon filling up everyone’s plates with the expensive store bought items.

you sat on a stool next to seungcheol, sipping on the beer can that was handed to you. when everyone was busy with their own thing, the leader turned to you and smiled.

“so, how have you been? a long time has passed since we spoke right?”

you had always found comfort in seungcheol. he was the leader of the group, a very reliable and trustworthy person. you remember asking him for advice when you got into college.

“i’ve been well, how are you?” you set your can aside. “any luck with the ladies you used to complain about?”

he laughs loudly at that, spooning a mouthful of ramen. “no, i’m still stuck with one-night stands for now. dating is too complicated!”

when chan hears his hyung talking about his love life, he scoots closer to the both of you, shamelessly eavesdropping.

“what about you? get any action?” seungcheol giggled.

you could practically feel dino’s presence beside you like a wavering shadow, and you chose to exploit it. how dare he leave you with an unfinished orgasm?

“oh yeah, plenty!” you smirked. “don’t tell soonyoung, but i’m lowkey addicted to sex? just feels so good to let off some steam, you know? and the dudes around me are so easy… they fall into my hands like domino.”

the harsh truth behind those words were only known to you. you had been on a dry spell for nearly 2 months now. your fingers and toys were not enough, and you were pretty sure you had started to hallucinate about dick.

“wah, kwon hoshi’s sister is all grown up, huh? good for you girl, go get them!” seungcheol cheered you on, clinking his can with yours.

you sneakily turned to look at chan, who had suddenly grown silent in his conversation with seokmin. “dino-yah. are you okay?”

chan’s eyes met yours and he immediately tensed up. you noticed how white his knuckles had turned, just from gripping wooden chopsticks.

“i’m fine,” he smiled, eyes dancing over your body before he returned to his friend. your bralette was doing nothing to hide your slightly tanned skin, black shorts making your perky ass stand out even more.

dino mentally cursed soonyoung for even allowing you to wear that. but then again, his best friend was too preoccupied with his little crush to pay you any attention.

the rest of the mini barbeque was a tough time for him. the poor boy could only think about your tantalizing words to seungcheol, calling a sweet string of cusses to all the men that touched you before he ever could.

you noticed how your plan was working, hiding your smirk behind a colorful can of beer as lee chan suffered in silence.

within a few hours of outdoor activity, jun and minghao said goodnight to everyone first, tired of all the hustle and bustle. a few others followed suit, yawning and sighing.

at the end of the night greetings, you, dino, wonwoo, seungcheol, soonyoung, minji, and joshua remained near the pool. you saw how your brother kept leeching up to minji, cracking idiotic jokes under her brother's watchful eye.

"i... i think i'll head to bed now, good night guys!" you stretched up from your chair. chan's eyes followed the way your skin gleamed under the fairy lights. he gulped loudly as you purposefully swayed your hips while walking inside.

"you can follow her in, chan-ah," wonwoo smiled, shifting his gaze to the youngest momentarily. "i'll keep kwon hoshi here for a while."

"what are you on about?" dino tried to play it off, scoffing as he crunched up a beer can. wonwoo could only roll his eyes.

"it's obvious you like her, and i'm just giving you a chance to work on it. you really should tone down the staring... soonyoung would kill you if he found out, and i am willing to help you for now. so don't be an idiot and go."

smiling toothily at his hyung, dino whispered out an "i love you" before running up the stairs. he reached his room without breaking a sweat and decided to shower before doing anything.

however, when he was about to slide the door to your shared bathroom open, he heard a loud sigh coming from inside. shamelessly, chan pushed his ear against the door, curious as to what you were doing.

your sigh was followed by a small whisper that sounded like "i can't believe i'm doing this." then, chan heard a zipper being opened.

his eyes widened as he realized what you were actually doing. "no way," he mouthed to himself, feeling his boner re-emerging at a sudden squelching noise.

"mhm," you moaned behind the door, and the pervert in the next room could only imagine what you looked like. "f-fuck chan!" you whimpered, and dino felt his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

the towel dropped from his hand, as his fingers sneaked to the hem of his basketball shorts. with a silent groan, chan stroked his chub as his eyes squeezed shut.

he pulled his cock out, swiping at his tip with his thumb. his brain worked overtime to imagine your hand in place of his, pretty eyes staring up at him.

meanwhile, in the bathroom, you leaned against the counter as your fingers stretched open your pussy. "feels so good," you whimpered, pitch increasing as you imagined his veiny hands pumping into you.

unbeknownst to each other, you and chan had cum to the thoughts of one another that night. chan made sure to cum at the same time as you, recognizing your borderline screams as you tipped over the edge.

what a filthy girl, he thought to himself, panting as his release spurted onto the towel he had discarded.

the starting 3 full days of the trip had made you avoid lee chan like he was the plague but personified.

every glance into his eyes had made you remember what you had done on that one night, and guilt seemed to sour your mood.

everyone had decided to go to the beach after having a few afternoon drinks. you spent your time around eunseok and vernon, gossipping about office trolls and work place shenanigans.

chan was simply drinking with seungkwan and minghao, refusing to give you any attention. although he was confused as to why you were ignoring him, he remained silent and decided to give you space.

jihoon suddenly joined into his conversation, hair tied back into a messy ponytail. “dino-ah,” he smirked, snatching a shot glass from the youngest’s hand. “i hear that there’s gonna be loads of girls on the beach today. wanna check some out? we can share if you want.”

as dino downed his shot, he stared back at his hyung with a grin. “don’t you remember what happened the last time we shared a girl? we had to take her to the hospital because she passed out!”

the group laughed, reminiscing the old memory. it wasn’t odd for them to share one-night stands. the boys were family, and they strongly believed in putting each other first.

the large number of giggles near you caught your attention. you and eunseok walked over to the boys, as she queried about their conversation.

“nothing much, it was just a last minute plan in prague… god we almost got arrested,” jihoon snickered, elbowing dino’s side. the youngest could only smirk, pouring himself another shot of soju.

questions flooded your mind as you stared at the man who had you in a chokehold. dino was clad in nothing but swim shorts, his taut muscles on full display for anyone to ogle over.

as the topic changed, your curiosity got the best of you. you staggered over to seungcheol, knowing that the boy would kill to gossip.

“oh hey y/n,” he greeted you with a tilt of his beer can, sunglasses perched upon his nose.

“hi,” you settled down next to him, your can of lemon soda forgotten as your lips quivered. “you look like you want to ask me something,” he chuckled, eyes scanning your face.

“you know me so well,” you smiled, twiddling your thumbs. “i can ask you anything right?”

“yeah, sure.”

“no repercussions?”

“no repercussions.”

with a sigh, you turned to face the leader as you took in a breath. “what happened in prague?”

seungcheol nearly choked on his drink, sputtering out flicks of the liquid as he stared at you with his eyes widened behind his shades.

“of everything you could have asked… why that?” he groaned, wiping his mouth. “come on,” you whined. “jihoon said it like it sounded so fun! i just wanna know!”

with a glance around to see if anyone was looking, the leader smiled and leaned in closer to you. “we swore we would never tell this to anyone but us… but you’re family too,” he began, voice merely above a whisper.

as seungcheol tattled on about the shenanigans that the idol group had been up to, you found yourself gasping. the wild story, the borderline illegality of it all— it was too much. you squeezed your thighs together when seungcheol skimmed past the details of the night they spent.

lee chan’s eyes followed the two of you, completely misinterpreting the situation. your shuffling thighs, masked giggles and wide eyes seemed like flirting to him as he clenched his jaw, downing his shot.

why were you making this so hard for him?

it was nearly 1 in the morning when you woke up in cold sweat.

your narrow room greeted you in a greyish hue, curtains pulled back to let the moonlight in. with a sigh, you resorted to calming down, taking deep breaths as you heard the waves crashing on shore. a slight buzzing noise filled your ears. it seemed to be coming from your door, but your mind could barely focus.

your dream had completely ruined your chances of sleep. a ticket to dreamland seemed impossible as seungcheol’s words floated in your head.

i’ve never seen dino go that feral on someone before… he was insatiable.

she squirted so hard when he was done, it was a huge mess. wonwoo’s glasses got drenched-

with a sigh, you take off your sleeping shorts and toss them to the side, fingers dipping down to your core.

your hole was slicked up, a sticky mess from your vivid imagination. your index finger prodded at your entrance, making you let out a sob.

your body was frustrated, in agony. you wanted to feel chan’s touch instead of your own hands, wanted to feel him buried inside you.

you let out another pained moan, pushing your first knuckle inside your fluttering walls. however, you fail to register the sounds you have been making, and that the buzzing from the outside had suddenly stopped.

you spread your legs wider, pumping your digits inside, letting out a hurt whimper. it would never be enough.

suddenly, the door to your shared bathroom opened with a slam, and a concerned chan appeared in your doorway. “are you okay—”

the sound of his voice egged you on further, hole gushing with a fresh serving of arousal. you all but sobbed at his direction, sex induced fog clouding your brain as your fingers fastened.

“chan,” you whimpered. in the doorway, with water drenched all over his face and a can of shaving cream in his hand, lee chan groaned at the sight in front him.

“help me…” you pleaded. “oh baby,” he growled, setting the can on the floor as he walked over to you. his hands parted your thighs even further, eyes examining the mess in between your legs.

with a sharp smack, he swatted your fingers away, licking his lips at the sight of your pussy.

morals be damned. soonyoung be damned.

“look at you,” his eyes stared into your hazed ones, a hand smacking your heat. the friction had your hips bucking.

“so soaked, hmm? what were you thinking of princess?” he bit his lip. “you… always thinking of you.”

“fuck,” he groaned, tilting his head back to compose himself. “y/n,” he sighed, one of his hands cupping your face.

you leaned into his touch, lips jutted out in a pout. “tell me you want this, and it’s not just something you’d forget. tell me you want me, and i’m all yours.”

with a smile, you turn aside to place a kiss on his palm. “i’ve never wanted something more in my life, lee chan.”

that seemed to be all the confirmation he needed as he flipped you over onto your stomach, slotting himself between your legs before he discarded his sweats on the floor.

“you have no idea how patient i have been,” he grunts, manhandling you to arch your back as your ass presses against his torso.

he dips his body down, face to face with your pussy. tantalizing, he licks a stripe up your folds, making your knees buckle on the mattress.

you try to look back to see him, but its impossible to move when his hands grab your ass cheeks, forcing his mouth back on you. dino’s chin brushes against your clit as he licks at your hole with a groan.

“so wet for me already, bet i could just slide in and you’d take it.”

you can only moan his name in return, clutching the bedsheets as he ate it from the back. his tongue fucks into your folds, lapping at the arousal that drips out of you in copious amounts.

“f-fuck channie! i’m—”

before you can finish, chan is moving away from your heat. the sudden lack of his mouth has you moaning and whining like a brat.

“easy doll, i don’t want you to cum on my face right now,” he pats your ass, flipping you over to your back as you finally get a view of him.

his slick covered face dips down to meet your lips. the kiss is searing and filthy as you taste yourself on his tongue.

your hands reach for his hair, pulling him impossibly close as you suck on his tongue. using your neediness as a distraction, he quickly angles his hips and pushes his tip past your folds.

“shit!” you cuss, gasping and pulling away. in the heat of the moment, you never actually registered how obnoxiously big chan’s cock was.

as you look down to where your bodies meet, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. his fat tip exerts an experimental thrust, and the sheer stretch of his head has you whining.

“shh baby, it’s okay,” he assures you, pressing small kisses along the column of your throat. “just breathe for me?”

you inhale slowly, allowing your tense body to relax and adjust to him. dino’s attempts at distracting you do not go futile as you feel his fingers pinching your nipples. the pain in your chest makes the ache between your legs lose all meaning.

steadily, he pushes himself inside you, inch by inch entering your welcoming walls that spasm around him. when he finally bottoms out, you feel him in your gut.

this was the fullest you had ever felt. chan’s mouth licks the sweat around your breast, savouring in the salty taste.

his arms rest on either side of your head, making you relish the view. when he finally looks up, you pull him in for a kiss.

its sloppy, and his teeth clash into yours, but you could not care less. your pussy clenches around him as you pull away, nodding feverishly. “chan… if you don’t fuck me right now, i might die— hah!”

one languid thrust into you has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. his metal chain dangles on your chin, the coolness contrasting the heat that squelches down there.

chan takes full advantage of his dancer body as he pistons his hips into you. the stretch has you reeling, nails clawing down his broad back as his body leans into you.

dino’s lips find the spot on your neck, licking and sucking till red and purple bloom on your skin. his matted hair sticks to his forehead, as you turn your head to the side— the visuals becoming too much for you to handle.

you’re met with his forearm in your sight, fingers tightly gripping the bedsheets.

without a second thought, you lean forward and bit his skin, making him groan out as his cock twitches inside you.

“fu- you’re killing me baby,” he smirked, licking his lips as he forces you to look at him.

the brute force of his thrusts has your body thrashing, legs shaking with pleasure.

“feels so good channie!” you hiccup, mind cloud. the only thing you could think of was lee chan and his oh so perfect dick that was ravaging your insides.

when chan looks down, his eyes roll to the back of his head. he could see the outline of himself in your stomach, prodding out with every thrust.

a creamy and frothy ring lined the base of his cock, a testament to how your greedy cunt was sucking him in. your warm walls squeezed hard around him when one of his hands dropped down to press the bulge on your stomach.

“feel me in there, don’t ya?” he babbled, hips faltering at your vicious grip. “y-yes!” you cried out, feeling your stomach contracting.

with a loud growl, chan’s lips rest upon yours. “you close baby? can feel your greedy little cunt crying f’me,” he mumbled, licking your bottom lip.

your pathetic nods made him remove his hand from your stomach and find your clit instead, circling the bud as you mewled.

“cum for me baby, show me how much you needed this cock in you,” his eyes fluttered shut, forehead falling against yours.

“i’m cu— oh fuck,” you whimpered, suddenly feeling your orgasm rip through your body. your pussy clamped down on him, gripping his length like a fleshlight.

dino moaned in your ear about how good you felt, thrusts turning sloppy as he pressed kisses on your earlobe.

he continued to move inside you, drawing out your orgasm as he chased after his. overstimulation had tears spilling from your eyes, clawing at his pecs as you sobbed. “ ‘s too much channie! hurts!”

“just a little more baby, clench round me like that aga— FUCK!” he lost himself in you, feeling your walls clamp down on his cock, milking him for all his worth as his orgasm washed over him.

in a desperate attempt, chan’s thrusts turned erratic as he pumped his load inside you. “s-so good,” he whimpered, hips stilling inside you as he softened. you groaned at the warmth, shutting your eyes in ecstasy.

you both were panting, bodies entwined in a soft caress. time seemed to still when lee chan looked into your eyes again, smiling like a lovesick puppy when you kissed him.

your mouth whined pathetically when he pulled out, falling to your side as he sighed. wanting to be close to him, you shuffled near him.

your fingers dropped down to your pussy as you tried to plug his cum inside you, moaning at the sensation of being so incredibly full and warm.

“that was… the best sex i’ve ever had, sheesh,” dino wrapped an arm around you, pulling you impossibly close.

you brought your hand up to place on his sweaty chest, giggling as he kissed the top of your head. “better than prague?” you teased.

lee chan’s pecs tensed under your hold, as his eyes widened, staring at you in the dark. “what— who told you about that!” he exclaimed, ears dusted pink.

“seungcheol’s very easy to gossip with,” you winked, staring up at his pretty face. “wow… i can’t believe this hyung,” he grumbled, hearing you laugh.

“hey! this only happened because i was thinking about everything you did to that poor girl,” you smacked his muscle, hearing him wince. “why were you so feral that night, lee chan?” you voiced your question out loud.

he sucked in a breath as his grip tightened around your shoulder. “you really want to know?”

“i’m dying from curiosity,” you mused. with a sigh, chan turned his head to face you fully, meeting your eyes in the moonlight, before he whispered out an answer.

“she had the same name as you.”

© nachojaehyun, 2024

[ohcaptains]

𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐬.

 pairing. anakin skywalker x f!reader 

synopsis. anakin finds loopholes in the jedi code.

warnings. 18+. this is sexually explicit, do not read this or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy my shit, i’ll find out. cock warming, p in v penetration but no movement. whimper-y anakin, if you move i'll leave the jedi order type beat.  

an. just a little something i wrote for the kinktober i never did. I thought i'd post instead of letting it collect dust in my drafts. the prompt was cockwarming! hope i did anakin justice<3 pls comment & reblog.

You find him at the window.

Sitting, with his thighs open and chest bare, staring out into the abyss. The night glints at the beads of sweat sliding down his chest, and his fingers drum endlessly against his thighs.

He heard you wake up, so he’s expecting your company, and has leaned back against the chair – thin black gown falling open – ready for you to climb all over him.

It happens often.

It’s not uncommon to wake up without him.

Most nights, you startle out of your slumber – as if even asleep, you’d sensed a shift – and blink at the space on the mattress beside you.

Finding him was easy.

You pad through the living room and wordlessly reach him in his post-nightmare state. His hair is tousled, sculpted chest is slick with sweat -- there’s an energy vibrating off of him, and you can taste it in the air.

Stepping behind him, you gently run the tips of your fingers over his shoulders, and the whirlpool in Anakin’s belly settles for a second. When you move into frame, it’s gone completely, replaced by a warm heat that has roots. He breathes a smile.

“Like clockwork.”

You give him a sheepish grin in return and fiddle with the fabric of your small nightgown. There’s a moment where Anakin gets to look at you – all sleepy and cuddly – and he’s ready to escape with you off of this forsaken planet.

His will holds strong.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” he asks, raising a scarred brow, and despite your groggy state, you still manage to roll your eyes. Stepping closer, you use his broad shoulders as anchors to slip onto his lap.

“Don’t make that face,” Anakin hushes, and while you settle back onto his thighs, his metal hand comes up. He traces the line of your jaw, “You know I let you do what you want.”

His spare hand steadies your hips, and it’s still warm from his lightsaber. Calloused fingers run over your skin, reminding you of the fight that’s leaving scars – the war that’s brewing, both inside and outside of his mind.

In moments like this, though, there’s a subtle calm.

An impenetrable force that hums over the pair of you.

You lean into his palm and whisper, “Not everything.”

There’s a haunted edge to your gaze, and your words are loaded. Anakin knows what you mean, knows all the intricacies of your subtle dig, and yet, he still manages to smile.

Well, smirk.

“What do you want? Just say the word.”

You wouldn’t, and Anakin knows that. He’s caught your bluff, and you manage a bashful smile before gently leaning forward, dragging your hips against his lap.  

Anakin’s cloth-covered thigh nestles against the thin fabric of your underwear. Your smile falters, lips parting. You push your forehead against his, and whisper, “If I say the words, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“I know,” he breathes, “I know.”

I want more.

A life together, not stolen moments when the sun is down.

An attachment. A bond.

But it’s forbidden.

It’s why it can’t go any further than this.

“What’d you dream about?” you wonder. Anakin pulls his eyes away from you, instead looking to where his thigh sits. The silence is your answer.

“I’ll still ask, even if you never tell.”

He takes hold of your bare thighs, rubbing his hands up and down, and you hum his name, reaching out to push his hair behind his ears.

“Pretty boy.”

“Stop it,” he huffs, cheeks reddening.

But how can you? When he’s all sharp lines and long hair. You run your hands up the bare panes of his muscular chest, feeling the deft of his muscles, and the dampness on his skin.

The air changes – hums electric – and it buzzes as you push his gown off his shoulders.

Carefully, you lean forward and place a chaste kiss against his collarbone.

“That’s better.”

Anakin hums a laugh. His hands snake around to your lower back, dig into the fat of your ass, and using the grip there, he gently rocks you forward once, forcing your clothed cunt to drag against his muscular thigh.

You whimper. It’s quiet, but Anakin can hear it, even if it’s muffled by his shoulder.

“’ S’what you came out here for, huh?” he whispers. The electric flooding through the walls hums, but the room is still eerily silent. Anakin’s voice is a roar.

You lick your lips and drag your face up to see him. “No,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss against his top lip, “I like being with you, even if we don’t do this.”

Anakin has to close his eyes. Words like those are fuel to the fire brimming in his chest, and it doesn’t help that you wrap your arms around his neck and fiddle with the tail end of his hair.

Arching your back, you slowly roll backwards, then forward, teasing the bulge between his legs.

Releasing a shaky breath, you repeat the motion, again, and again, near humping his leg.  

A familiar ache begins to swell, coiling between your thighs and up into your belly. It makes you clench around nothing, and you mewl quietly, wishing for more – always wishing for more.

Still, you continue, slick pooling into your underwear and against his thigh.

Anakin can’t look at you. If he sees your face, his resolve will falter.

His nerves are shot. If he couldn’t feel how wet you are, he could smell it, and it makes a groan bristle behind his teeth.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck and busies himself with kissing at the soft shell of your throat, careful not to leave marks.

Once, you left a mouth-shaped mark against his stomach, and he looked at it every day for a week.

Caught himself with his top up in the mirror looking at the reflection, eyeing the way the mark sat on the firm lines of muscle, fading away with time.

A dark part of him wanted the mark on the slope of his neck.

“Wanna be inside of you.”

His admission rests heavily against your throat, and you’re thankful that he can’t see the way you clench your eyes closed.

Though, he does feel you tighten your grip on the back of his head. Feels you shift up against his thigh, and the warmth pooling in your underwear burns against him.  

He can sense you’re hesitant.

“’ can be like last time. Just – Just --” he stutters, licking his lips and struggling to release the words from the back of his throat. Finally, he manages. “--Sit on it.”

“Anakin.”

He pulls away from your neck and looks up at you.

“We can use it as an exercise.”

A laugh bursts from your throat, “To test your will?”

He smiles, and because you have to, you push your cunt against his crotch, uttering, “Want me to make It difficult for you?” and white flashes through Anakin’s eyes.

He grabs your hips to steady you, tensely pushing his fingers into your skin.

“Hardest challenge I’ll ever encounter.”

“You eager to impress?”

He kisses your jaw, “Don’t I always?”

“Mm,” you hum, cradling his chin. You shift back so he can pull his trousers down, and when you take his cock in your hand, he melts. His commanding aura switches for a moment, and you watch Anakin still his breathing.

You push your underwear to the side, and as you lift yourself to sink onto him, Anakin breathes, “Just the tip – just a little bit, j-just—” and he chokes on his words, gasping as you brush the leaking head of his cock through your folds.

You halt. Whimper. Have to grip his shoulder to steady yourself, or you’ll push him inside of you all at once and hurt yourself.

You inhale steadily.

“Have to – have to go slow,” you spurt, trying to calm your tremors.  

“It’s been a while since…”

You don’t have to finish your sentence. Anakin knows, and he feels a mix of pride and guilt. Only me, he thinks, and then, like a flash, only me, he swallows. And I can’t give her everything.

This. This is as far as it’ll go. He knows he’s pushing it. Knows that he’s come up with some convoluted rule to both have his cake and eat it too.

If he fucks you the way he wants to, he’ll fall in love with you. As if it hasn’t happened already.

Anakin has made lying to himself a speciality.

You push against him once more, and the tip of his cock nudges between your folds, forcing an ache to shoot through your clit and make you dizzy. You stop. Pause and curse yourself.

A slow burn builds in your thighs, and you clench down to try and mediate the burn. Anakin grunts.

“Maker,” he utters. “Sorry—” you splutter, sucking in a tight breath.

Anakin wraps his metal arm around the back of your hips, hoping to steady you. “Lemme,” he mumbles, and gently, he flexes his hips up, slowly feeding his cock into your soaked pussy.  

Your lower abdomen immediately burns.  

He’s being calm about it – using all his training – but there’s nothing calm about the words trickling out of his mouth.

“Oh stars,” he groans, voice wrecked, “You gonna take all of me, sweet girl? Gonna let me fill you up?”

When you finally sink to the hilt, your resolve snaps. The pair of you moan out in unison, loud and high-pitched.

Anakin buries his face in your chest, and the heat of his mouth against your breasts adds to the tension coiling in your belly.

“Don’t – don’t move,�� he grunts, and you shake your head, “I won’t – I’ll come on your cock if I do,” and you don’t mean to say it like that, don’t mean for the words to come out like that, but you feel Anakin pulse from inside of you, warm and hard and wet.

He manages to laugh.

“Tryna kill me,” he shakily breathes, shaking his head. His wet lips brush against your breasts, and you want more – want all that he can give you – so you clutch the back of his head, pulling him closer, hoping he gets the message.

His wet kisses make your skin prickle.

You’re full up. Can feel him stretching you out, this feeling something that’s only happened a few times before.

“If you move,” Anakin begins, out of breath, “I’ll leave the Jedi order and spend my days inside of you.”

“Don’t t-tempt me.”

He laughs, and you accidentally clench around him, causing him to groan deep and long against your tits.

“If you do that again, I’ll come inside of you.”

You imagine it. Imagine him spilling out, the wet white of it dripping out of your cunt and back onto his cock, and the mere image of it has your clit throbbing.

Keep still. Don’t move.

But he wraps his tongue around your nipple and begins to suck.

You cry out, and all of your muscles tighten, forcing you to clench tight around his cock. Anakin jolts and whines your name against your tits.

“S’your fault,” you mewl, moaning. You hang your head back, “Stars, Anakin.”

“Try and stay still,” he mumbles, and you stutter a laugh, “Impossible.”

“It can’t be,” he responds, and while he speaks in jest, his words are sincere. The line between love and lust runs thin, and if Anakin is being honest with himself, it’s close to snapping.

[mellifluouaamor]

Kissing Mashle boys before running hc?

MASH BURNEDEAD, FINN AMES, LANCE CROWN, DOT BARRETT, RAYNE AMES, ABEL WALKER, ABYSS RAZOR, WIRTH MADL, CARPACCIO LUO-YANG, ORTER MADL, KALDO GEHENNA (SEPARATE) ⍣ GENDER-NEUTRAL READER

synopsis. the boys' reactions to you kissing them and then running away.

author's note. that one panel where orter tells cell to bend over has never left my mind and i may have brought it over to these headcanons i'm (not) sorry. orter can bend me over anytime- AHEM ANYWAY LIVE LAUGH LOVE WIRTH HAHAHA

you, running away from MASH? given his inhuman speed and reflexes, that'll be impossible. even if your action is as harmless as a kiss to his cheek, the first-year would reflexively grab your wrist and pull you flush against his chest before you can take a step away from him.

you'd be subjected under his signature blank stare for a few seconds as he tries to process what just happened, and when he finally registers the feeling of your soft lips on his cheek, he tilts his head to the side in an adorable manner.

"can you do that again?" he asks, surprising you. mash can't explain it - but he likes the warm and fuzzy feeling that would bloom inside his chest when you kiss his cheek. your kiss feels like... a bed of cream puffs. (don't question his analogy)

oh, sweet summer child FINN. if you kiss him right on his freckles in front of his friends, he'd combust on the spot as a string of unintelligible words streams out of his mouth. a flush of embarrassment would rise to his cheeks and when he turns around to tell you off, you're already running away, leaving him to think of how he should get back at you.

he'd spend the entire afternoon attempting and failing to ambush you, with you giggling gleefully as you skip out of his reach. argh, why do you have to be so hard to catch?!

when supper rolls around, you sit next to a defeated looking finn with your tray of food. as you're eating, he points out that you've got some sauce around your mouth and before you can wipe it off, finn has already leaned over and licks the corner of your lips (with his cheeks burning). you drop your spoon in shock while dot gags loudly in the background.

"oh," is all LANCE says when your lips land on the corner of his mouth. his fingertips brush against the spot you shyly kissed and when he turns to face you, you're already gone. figuring that the embarrassment must have gotten to you, he presses a loose fist against his lips as he chuckles softly.

the following hours would be lance contributing further to that embarrassment. he'd kiss your cheek when you're in the middle of a conversation with your friends, and he makes sure that you won't be able to pull away by gripping your jaw. the kiss would last longer than necessary, causing an awkward silence to fall on the group.

if you confront him about it, he'd simply squish your cheeks in his palm as he taunts you for being unable to do anything. try to talk back, and he'll silence you with his lips.

DOT would short-circuit the second your lips make contact with his cheek, his face flushing as red as his hair. as you run away from him laughing, he'd hold his face like he just got slapped, gibberish spilling over his lips and unable to think straight. mash and finn would have to hold him up to stop him from collapsing.

once dot recomposes himself, he'd chase you in the hallways and it immediately becomes a game of tag... with him almost crashing into the walls as you deftly dodge his lunges.

when he finally catches you, there's no escaping from his onslaught of kisses as he wounds his arms around you tightly. your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips, your neck - he leaves no area untouched. when dot returns a favour, he returns it tenfold.

RAYNE would turn his head the moment he registers the lack of space between your bodies - and that unexpected action causes his lips to meet yours in a kiss. you immediately pull away from him with a loud gasp, and the perpetual frown on his countenance prompts you to run for the hills.

touching his lips, he'd wonder why you ran away after boldly kissing him, unaware that you weren't supposed to do that and that you had only intended to ask him about homework. it wouldn't take long for him to chase you as if you're a little rabbit being preyed on by the wolf of adler dorm. (finn watches with a slack jaw as his older brother terrorises your poor soul)

the moment rayne catches up to you, he'd cage you against the nearest wall with his arms on either side of your cowering form. he's at a loss to know how to respond to your profuse apologies, only wanting you to kiss him properly after that accidental kiss earlier. he eventually manages to silence you by gingerly planting his lips on the tip of your nose.

ABEL doesn't express much emotion in the first place, so it's no surprise that he didn't give much of a reaction to your kiss on his forehead. when you did it in the middle of his conversation with the magia lupus, he stops talking abruptly while the other members gawk at your boldness. with a quiet "teehee", you prance out of the room as he touches his forehead.

in class, in the hallway, in the cafeteria - abel would stare at you from afar like you've committed the highest degree of crimes. you think that you may have offended him by pulling what you did in front of the magia lupus, but that's not the case as you would come to find out later.

in the evening, abyss brings you to abel's room by the scruff of your shirt. you're wondering why the hell you got dragged out of bed, and it isn't until you noticed abel staring at you expectantly did you realise he wants you to give him a good night kiss like a mother would to her child.

ABYSS, who had never received physical affection from anyone before in his entire life, would be so flustered that his mind becomes a jumbled mess. he doesn't even realise that you've already fled from the scene by the time he can think coherently again (and he's disappointed).

the kiss you gave him would linger on his mind for hours, and he'd throw subtle glances at you - specifically your lips. the warmth that spread from the spot you kissed on his forehead is... comforting, reassuring even, and he doesn't think he can continue his day without getting another one from you.

eventually, abyss would work up the courage to approach you. when he shyly tugs your sleeve with his gaze averted, you immediately understand what he wants and lean in to plant a sweet kiss over his evil eye, causing red to dust his cheeks. he'd hug you on impulse, wanting to be as close to you as possible.

WIRTH doesn't appreciate having his study time interrupted, so if you try to break his concentration by kissing the side of his neck, he wouldn't give you the chance to run away by trapping your feet in mud. he'd then drag you over to sit on his lap, where you'll be forced to stay until he's done studying.

it doesn't matter if you're in the library or the common room, you'll just have to endure the embarrassment of being sandwiched between his body and the table. he doesn't even hide the fact that he's enjoying the way you're squirming uncomfortably on his lap - that's what you get for trying to distract him.

he'd pinch your side if your squirming starts to get annoying, and if you try to protest, he'd immediately shut you up with a kiss - with every contact between your lips lasting longer than the previous one. it eventually reaches the point where you're left breathless after his kisses, and he smirks at the debauched look he's able to paint on your countenance.

CARPACCIO would stare at your fleeing figure with the same stiff expression he wears every day; he'd internally question why you would run off after kissing him when he has no intentions of harming you.

since he can't feel pain, your affectionate gestures are the only other external stimuli he can feel. he registers the pleasant feeling in his chest when you first kissed him, and has become addicted to the feeling since then. so really, he'd just accept your surprise kisses.

although he won't go after you when you run away, he'd actively seek you out and splay himself across your lap like a cat. when that happens, it's your cue to shower him with the kisses he has grown to like. this frequently happens since he tends to stay up all night for his research, and the warm feeling of your lips helps him fall asleep.

ORTER won't admit it, but your kisses are capable of breaking his composure; so when your lips suddenly press against his jaw, he'd freeze up on the spot, giving you the opportunity to book it before he can catch you. once you're well out of his sight, he'd push his glasses up the bridge of his nose with the faintest hint of blush on his cheeks.

of course, no actions go without consequences - and you are no exception. to punish you for your little misdeed, orter would call your unsuspecting self into his office before bending you over his desk when you least expected it. he'd relish in your shocked expression and proceeds to intimidate you into submission, only stopping once he spots the teary beads in the corners of your eyes.

orter is not a cruel man. gently cupping your jaw, he presses a long kiss on your temple as a silent apology before letting you go.

another one who you won't have a chance to run from. KALDO can tell when you're about to attack him with a kiss and would pretend to be oblivious until you make a move. the moment you lean into his face, he quickly turns his head and places a hand at the back of your head to push your lips against his.

you're helpless in his grasp as he wraps an arm around your waist to press you against his body. if you just had a sweet snack, he would deepen the kiss and literally devour your lips, wanting to taste what you ate. when he finally pulls away, he'll try to guess the name of the snack while playfully smiling at your embarrassed expression.

kaldo treats it like a little game. if he can catch you before you kiss him and he happens to have some honey on hand, he gets your honey-flavoured lips as a reward and you'll be in for a long night.