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elix8r · 21 hours

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Prada Shoes and I Love Yous

PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader

GENRE: smut, angst, crack, (some?) fluff, college!au, exes to lovers!au, enemies to lovers!au, socialite/richkid!au

SUMMARY: Life as a socialite wasn’t all champagnes and designer labels, especially not with the turn your reputation took due to a simple misunderstanding. Now, you were being painted by everyone as a big fat cheater who shattered her sweet boyfriend’s heart—a narrative that couldn’t be further from the truth. In reality, it was him who had betrayed your trust. Frustrated and feeling deeply wronged, you returned to society and the new school year after a summer of cutting off contact with everyone and the drama. But just when you thought you were ready to face the world again, you were blindsided by something unexpected: the lingering effect Heeseung had on you. And who could blame you? Heeseung was way too hot for you to get over in just three short months and now, seeing him with the girl he once told you not to worry about all over him? Oh, it was on.

You refused to be replaced, labeled as a crazy ex, or forgotten. No, you were going to make Lee Heeseung realize that you were the best motherfucking thing to had ever happened to him.

WC: 21.4k

WARNINGS: some extent of emotionally cheating? (not actual cheating i swear it’s kinda unintentional), jake is a bestie and fwb hybrid (kinda flirty but it’s very much platonic i swear), so much miscommunication, profanity, drinking, drugs, physical altercation, mentions of puke, slut shaming, mentions of pregnancy (no one is actually pregnant), toxic relationship, roughdom!heeseung and sub!y/n, unprotected sex, oral (m recieving), rough sex, unprepped? sex (consensual), creampie, mirror sex, deepthroating, cowgirl, dick too big?, creampie, and i am so sorry but karina is a BITCH like it’s almost campy how villainess she comes off

AUTHOR'S NOTE: hope everyone has fun with this one!! had a lot of fun writing it like and i'd love to hear you guys' feedback! love you lots <3 ☺️

Fuck Lee Heeseung. Fuck Lee Heeseung. Fuck Lee Heeseung.

This was all you found yourself repeating in your mind like it was some mantra while you reapplied your lip gloss, making sure to take one last good look at yourself in the mirror before shutting it close once you felt the plane’s wheels coming to a stop. From the outside, you looked absolutely perfect as not a single hair could be found out of place; no one would’ve guessed that you had been on a plane for over 10 hours. But inside, you were a wreck as you felt your anxiety shooting up as your heart raced a million beats per minute.

“You need to loosen up, you look like you have a stick up your ass.” Jake was lazily scrolling on his phone while nursing a champagne in his hand, barely sparing a glance at you. He seemed to be in a much more relaxed state than you were.

You scoffed before sending him a glare. “You know, if anything, you should be the one panicking right now. Everyone’s going to be talking about how we came back together.”

“Good thing I don’t give a shit about what people say, right? Should’ve thought that through before inviting me,” Jake shrugged, finally lowering his phone to look at you. His nonchalant attitude was pissing you off. “Plus, this all just looks worse because Ryujin decided she wanted to spend one last week with whatever his name was.”

He wasn’t wrong. It hadn’t just been the two of you in Monaco for three months; Ryujin had also been very much present. However, she found herself a summer fling named Louis, and unlike you and Jake, she couldn’t find herself boarding your private jet without spending one last fiery week with her lover before saying goodbye for good and starting school again.

“Maybe we should have just stayed an extra week with her. It probably would have saved us from the shit show that I know we’re gonna be bombarded with the second we step off the plane.” You released a deep sigh before you started to gather your belongings around you.

Jake followed suit, grabbing his stuff and getting up from his seat. “Well, if we stayed back an extra week, then that would mean we’d have to deal with your mom’s wrath for missing her annual end-of-summer garden party that we promised we wouldn’t miss. You know how important it is for her, and to be honest, I’d rather face Heeseung’s wrath than your mom’s.”

He was right. This garden party of hers had been going on every year since even before you were born, and you’d be out of your mind to miss it. It was single-handedly the most important event every year for your family, and you couldn’t even begin to fathom how your mom would react to your absence.

You reached over and snatched the champagne glass out of his hand before you downed whatever was left in it in one gulp as you braced yourself, hoping the alcohol would give you the courage you needed to step off the plane.

“Well, then I hope you’re prepared to take on Heeseung. Maybe he’ll be nice enough to spare your pretty face. God knows it’s the only thing you have going for you.”

Heeseung was going to fucking kill Jake Sim.

When he woke up this morning, you were the last thing on his mind, something he seemed to have finally freed himself from. However, all the hard work he put into casting you away from his mind seemed to have been in vain, as now all he could think about was you and how you had returned after three months of radio silence with the guy you cheated on him with.

Livid didn’t even cover what he was feeling, and it was evident in the way he swung his club. Each hit seemed to be driven by a surge of pent-up frustration.

“What the hell, man? That’s the third time today you’ve been way off course. What’s going on?” Jay shot him an incredulous look as he tried to locate where the golf ball had landed.

Heeseung let out a frustrated groan as he ripped off his glove and shoved his driver back into his bag. “Y/N’s fucking back.”

That was all Jay needed to hear to understand what was going on with his friend. "Shit, I saw. I’m sorry dude, it’s fucked up."

Heeseung was in no mindset to be playing golf right now. All he wanted was to go back home and wallow miserably in his bed. Unfortunately, they were only on hole ten of eighteen, and judging by his performance today, Heeseung knew it was going to take awhile.

"Did you know?" Heeseung couldn't help but blurt out, his frustration evident in his voice as he watched Jay effortlessly swing a shot miles better than his own.

Confusion flickered across Jay's face as he turned to face his friend. "What do you mean?"

“Did you know that she was coming back with Jake?” Heeseung felt his jaw tense as he mentioned his ex-friend.

“I didn’t even know he was with her until today. Honestly, I thought he’d just fucked off somewhere and didn’t bother telling any of us, considering how things went down. You know me, I would’ve told you straight up if I had found out earlier.” Heeseung trusted Jay implicitly. He was as loyal as they came, but unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for everyone in their friend group.

"Do you think Sunghoon knew?" Heeseung's question elicited an audible groan from Jay.

If anyone in their friend group knew how Jake spent his summer, it would undoubtedly be Sunghoon. However, Sunghoon was notoriously tight-lipped, especially when it came to sensitive matters. Since the breakup, the entire friend group had undergone an incredibly awkward shift. It seemed that everyone had more or less chosen a side, and allegiances were clear.

"You know he wouldn't tell us anything if he did. It's getting ridiculous. The other day, I saw Gaeul and him having brunch or something at the clubhouse, and the moment she spotted me, she practically sprinted over to explain herself. She claimed she's still 'Switzerland' in the whole situation and hasn't chosen a side," Jay recounted, frustration evident in his voice.

Heeseung almost snorted at the absurdity of it all. Their friend group had never been one to keep secrets or tiptoe around each other, but the last few months had been nothing but that. The betrayal by you and Jake had not only affected Heeseung's relationship with you but had also tainted the dynamic of their entire friend group.

“Literally, what is there to be ‘Switzerland’ about? I mean, this whole thing isn’t even complicated. Everyone saw them go into the bathroom together and come out literally holding hands. Trust me, I know what she looks like after giving head, and that's literally what she looked like in that video Beomgyu sent. Plus, Karina literally heard them.” Heeseung angrily got into the golf cart as Jay fished the keys out to start driving.

“Okay, well, no offense, but in all honesty, Karina’s probably not the most reliable source, cause she’s in an extremely biased position, but I guess that’s beside the point.” Jay’s words seemed to instantly bring a frown upon Heeseung’s face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Heeseung’s tone sharply switched up in an almost defensive manner.

Jay, feeling this shift, nervously cleared his throat as he stammered, trying his best not to offend his already sensitive friend regarding an even more fragile situation. “I mean, uh, well. You know…”

“What?” The grip he had on the seat of the golf cart seemed to get tighter as he waited for his friend to elaborate.

“Dude, you can't be serious? You know Karina’s been trying to ride your dick for the past, what, give or take ten years? I mean, we all know that she’s never had a good relationship with Y/N, and I’m pretty sure most of that resentment stemmed from the fact that you’ve always been head over heels for Y/N.” Jay slowly parked the cart and turned off the engine as he explained.

Still not understanding Jay’s point, Heeseung furrowed his brows, shooting his friend another annoyed look before getting out of the golf cart. “What are you trying to get at?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re dense. I mean, the last couple of months before Y/N cheated on you was the closest you seemed to have gotten with Karina because of that final project that you guys had or whatever. I mean, you were with her more times than you were with your own girlfriend, and knowing Karina, she seems like she could be delusional enough to have maybe taken that as a sign that you were interested in her? I mean, this is all speculation, but I’m just letting you know what we all saw.”

Jay cautiously treaded this topic. Heeseung was his best friend since they were babies, and he would always be on his side, but Karina was never anyone’s favorite with her extremely polarizing personality. He had no allegiance towards her, not to mention that she wasn’t actually even in their friend group and always only ever found lingering around wherever Heeseung was, so it was much easier for Jay to actually see through her. In fact, it seemed that all of their friends could pretty much catch on to Karina’s end goal except Heeseung.

“So you think it’s my fault that Y/N cheated on me?” The air got tense as Heeseung snapped at Jay while snatching his 7-iron out of the bag. “Just because I spent some time doing a stupid fucking school project with Karina doesn’t mean it gives her reason to go and suck off one of my best friends.”

Jay shook his head even before Heeseung was done with his sentence. Heeseung seemed to not be getting the point. “Fuck no, dude, that’s not what I’m saying. Karina has an incentive: you. If she gets rid of Y/N, then it means you’re up for grabs. Of course, Karina didn’t force Y/N to get on her knees for Sim, but she was the first one to come running, telling us what happened even before Beomgyu sent that video.” Heeseung was trying hard to focus on trying to get his ball on the green as he geared up to swing while listening to Jay.

“So you don’t think she should’ve warned me of what she heard?” He swung precisely, but it seemed that this whole course, to be precise, wasn’t going easy on him. He’d be lucky to get even a double bogey on the par-4.

Jay slightly grimaced at Heeseung’s shot. “No, it’s not that,” he let out a sigh as he walked over to Heeseung. “Look, you’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and I know the past few months have been fucking hard because of what Y/N put you through, and I just want you to be careful. Karina’s always been kind of a conniving, spoiled bitch who finds a way to get what she wants. Just because she’s been warming your bed every night since Y/N fell off the fucking Earth doesn’t mean she should be someone you start trusting.”

There was nothing he could say back to his friend’s words and it seemed that what Jay had said clung on deep to Heeseung's thoughts throughout the day, casting a lingering shadow and leaving a bitter aftertaste in his mind.

A small bead of sweat trickled down your back as the sun's relentless heat beat down on you. You took a small sip from your now lukewarm glass of champagne, its warmth doing little to refresh you. Today felt even hotter than previous years, and once again, you found yourself questioning why your mother insisted on hosting her most important event during the hottest month of the year.

Your cheeks were hurting from all the forced smiles you’d already given to family friends and important figures in your mother’s business circle. This garden party was always about promoting her upcoming collection and ensuring the continued support, financial and otherwise (not that she needed any more money), of both new and old acquaintances and partners. So, as always, it was no surprise that you were dressed head to toe in unveiled pieces from your mother’s upcoming collection. While no one could deny her incredible eye for fashion and the breathtaking quality of her creations, the white-tiered tulle dress with its plunging neckline felt entirely too inappropriate for a garden party and was getting on your last nerve. You stood out like a peacock—a testament to your mother’s outstanding handiwork—but you weren't a fan of the attention it drew.

“I need to get out of this fucking dress,” you muttered through gritted teeth, your annoyance palpable.

Jake chuckled softly beside you. “I can think of a few ways to get you out of that.”

You shot him a sharp look, clearly unimpressed by his insinuation. “Don’t say shit like that, especially around everyone. It’s not funny.”

“What? No one's around to hear, and even if they did, it wouldn’t matter. Everyone already thinks we’re fucking, and to be fair, they’re not that off.” He shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips.

Without hesitation, you elbowed him hard in the ribs, your face growing even more pissed off. “That’s not funny, Jake. Seriously, shut up. It happened only a couple of times and that’s it. If anyone hears that, they’re actually going to think I cheated on Heeseung with you.”

Your pretty face sported a cold, serious expression, leaving no doubt about how much this mattered to you.

“Honey, I told you, they already think you cheated on Heeseung with me, so this isn’t going to change anything. Besides, you know damn well it wasn’t just a couple of times,” Jake rolled his eyes at your dramatics.

“Yeah, well, the difference is that every time I slept with you was when I wasn’t dating him, so I didn’t actually cheat. You’re just making everything worse by making it seem like you’re confirming what they already assume.” Your irritation was through the roof, and the heat was doing nothing to quell your annoyance.

Before Jake could say anything else, your mother’s saccharine voice filled the space. For once, you were grateful for her impeccable timing. “Oh, darling, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

The event’s dress code was always an all-white affair, but even then, your mother seemed to shine brighter than any of the guests. You were almost taken aback when you fully turned to face her. “Hey, Mom.”

You flashed her a tight smile, but she barely spared you a glance, her attention focused entirely on the figure next to you. Jake seemed to stiffen under your mother’s gaze. “Hello, Jake. You seem to be enjoying yourself,” she said, giving his attire a quick once-over and humming in approval. “You look quite nice. Brioni, I’m assuming?”

“Yes, as usual, the event is beautiful Mrs. L/N. You’ve definitely outdone yourself,” he nervously chuckled. Despite his attempts at flattery, your mother’s cold gaze remained fixed on him. “And you’re right, it is a custom piece from Brioni.”

“Unsurprising, seeing that your father is rarely seen in anything else. Perhaps you could enlighten him to broaden his wardrobe, and maybe we can see about getting you a custom piece of mine. I have no doubt the materials I use are incomparable to much of what’s in your wardrobe already. Though, I’m sure you already know that, since it seems much of your time these days is spent taking my beautiful pieces off my daughter.”

“Mom!” You gasped loudly, your eyes widening in disbelief at her bold statement. Your mother was never one to hold back her words, but this was beyond her usual antics. Next to you, Jake stiffened even more, nervously trying to regain his composure.

"Uh, Mrs. Y/LN, I can assure you that whatever you think is happening between me and your daughter is not actually true," Jake stammered, his voice strained with tension.

Your mother clicked her tongue in annoyance, obviously not buying his claims. "Well, the conversation I overheard the two of you having before I came seemed to say something different."

“Mom, can we not do this here?” You darted your eyes around, making sure that no one else was catching on to what was happening.

“Well, darling, I would usually never impose myself like this in your personal relationships, but it seems like the two of you have brought not only our families into this but now also my business as collateral just for the sake of some mindless fucking.”

You had never heard your mother speak with such scandalous vocabulary before. Seeing her like this was beyond unsettling and left you utterly speechless.

“Ma’am, I assure you that the rumors about our infidelity are not true at all. It’s been a huge misunderstanding that—"

"Jake, I've always held you in high regard, ever since you were a baby raised alongside my daughter. You've grown into a very smart and handsome young man, one your parents should be proud of. Out of respect for your mother, who you know is one of my closest and longest friends, I've tried to overlook what's been happening over the past few months. However, overhearing the two of you brazenly talking about your sexcapades in public, especially during one of the most important events of my year, is something I simply cannot ignore. This has not only strained my relationship with one of my closest business partners, but it has also jeopardized our families' standing. If anyone else had overheard, I can’t even begin to think how much worse the already damaging rumors would become."

“Mom seriously can you stop this,” you were furious that she would decide to do this here of all places. “This is fucking ridiculous and you know damn well that none of those stupid rumors are true. We can talk about this later, please.”

"I believe I'm entitled to speak as I please, especially considering this is my event," she retorted sharply. "Your father and I were generous enough to allow you to spend your entire summer break away without expecting you to address this mess you've created for us. I had hoped for better judgment from you. Instead, you and Jake decided to further exacerbate this situation by turning this trip into some sort of romantic getaway. I sure hope you were at least being smart and careful. The only thing that would make this situation worse is if you were to become pregnant. Who knows, you might even be pregnant right now. It wouldn’t even surprise me seeing as though that seems to be the only thing the two of you were doing in Monaco.”

Jake was a stuttering mess, his face flushed with embarrassment at the accusation. "Mrs. Y/LN, I swear that's not true," he managed to stammer out.

Before he could say anything else, your mother cut him off again. "I'm not so sure I can trust you on that. How can you be so sure that you didn't knock up my daughter?"

You were seething with anger at your mother's behavior, ready to intervene when suddenly a figure caught your eye.

Heeseung's fist connected with Jake's jaw before you even had a chance to react. The punch caught Jake off guard, and as he tried to recover, Heeseung landed another swift blow to his face.

"You got her pregnant?" Heeseung's voice was filled with anger as he launched himself at Jake, who was still reeling from the first two punches.

“What the fuck!” Jake groaned, struggling to fend off Heeseung's relentless assault.

Beside you, your mother was in a panic, shouting for security as everyone's attention turned to the commotion that erupted in front of you.

Before you could step in, Jay appeared out of nowhere, desperately trying to pull his friend away from their former friend.

"Heeseung, stop!" you screamed, rushing to Jay's aid.

But Heeseung was relentless, disregarding his surroundings entirely. All sense of decorum was abandoned as he straddled Jake, who was attempting to dodge Heeseung's blows while pushing him away.

From the other side, Sunghoon came running over to help pull Heeseung off of Jake. "Jesus Christ, Heeseung, get off him!"

After a couple of seconds of struggle, the three of you were finally able to pull Heeseung off of Jake, though he continued to struggle in attempts to break free. Security, called by your mother, arrived and joined in to help restrain the enraged boy.

Jake laid on the grass, his previously pristine custom white suit dirtied with splatters of blood and dirt from rolling around. Heeseung didn't look much better, his own suit now stained with blood, evidence of the fight. Despite being at a disadvantage, Jake had managed to land a few good punches, evidenced by the blood dripping from Heeseung’s nose. It was a chaotic scene, with whispers and murmurs from the other guests confirming their attention on the altercation. You could sense your mother's fury, even without seeing her directly.

"What the hell is this?" A gruff voice angrily interrogated.

Heeseung’s father had never been an easy person to be around, so you couldn’t even imagine how angry he currently was at his son’s behavior.

However, Heeseung seemed not to hear his father, his eyes staying trained on Jake, who was getting up with Sunghoon's help.

“Oh my, Liz, I am so sorry. I’m appalled; I genuinely am. I'm so embarrassed. I don’t know what came over him.” Heeseung’s mom quickly ran over to where your mother stood with fury and attempted to sincerely apologize.

“We are leaving.” Heeseung’s dad yanked his son from the security’s grip and started to drag him away, but not before also turning towards your mom with a stern look. “Yes, we apologize for our son’s behavior. We hope it didn’t ruin this beautiful event, and we will be excusing ourselves. Thank you for having us.”

You were still in shock with everything, and it seemed that everyone else was too, as no one moved and stood in silence, taking in everything that had happened. There was no way this just happened.

To say the last couple of days had been hell for you would be an understatement. Honestly, it felt even worse than the days following your breakup with Heeseung, when you could at least pack your bags and leave the country. But this time, with school starting in a week, that luxury would unfortunately not be granted to you a second time. Your parents were adamant that you face the mess head-on and frankly you found yourself wishing that you never returned from Monaco.

To make matters worse, Ryujin still wasn’t back. While she called every day, you still felt alone, especially since you hadn’t talked to Jake since your mom’s party. Rumors about your supposed pregnancy were rampant, further emphasizing your alleged infidelity, and you figured it was best to get some space from Jake until the rumors died down.

With nothing to do, you found yourself doing things you’d never normally do—like wandering down the chip aisle, looking for something to make you feel better about your situation.

“No, Ryujin, you don’t get it,” you huffed into the phone, frustration evident in your voice as you searched desperately for anything that sounded good. “I’ve gotten DMs from random people I’ve barely spoken to, asking if I’m actually pregnant and how far along I am. I’m so fucking sick of this.”

“Oh babe, I’m so sorry. This sucks so bad. It’s literally so fucking absurd and Heeseung was so stupid for this like I still can’t believe he did that. Don’t worry though, I’ll be there soon so just hold on,” Ryujin sounded sincere as the sound of waves echoed in the background. You envied your friend, who was probably at the beach right now, getting a nice tan with her hot beau, and not miserably suffering in this stupid predicament like you were.

“Ugh, I can’t wait until you’re here. I’m like seriously going through it and I just hope it’ll die down once school starts, but I doubt it because—”

“Y/N?”

You were abruptly cut off by a shrill voice. Even before you turned your head to face them, you knew exactly who it was and found yourself unable to hold back an exasperated groan. “Fuck, I’ll call you later, Ryujin.”

Karina had always been one of the most beautiful girls you knew, even from a young age and you couldn’t deny that she looked stunning now, even under the horrendously yellow dim lights of the grocery store. But, like always, she had a knack for bringing out a grimace on your face, which you sported as you turned to face her.

“Oh my God, no way! I thought it was you earlier but I was like, no way is The Y/N out shopping for groceries. But honestly, who else could it be? I mean, you’re unmistakable.” Karina held a shopping basket in one hand that barely had anything in it. She was dressed like she was about to attend a charity gala, a stark contrast to your Lululemon shorts and an old shirt from Heeseung’s closet.

“Hey, Karina,” was all you could let out before she animatedly started speaking again, not giving you a second to talk.

"It's been so long! I mean, how long has it been since we last saw each other? You didn’t even say goodbye to any of us and just left but you look great, especially considering—oh, and congrats! Honestly, I was actually worried it would be awkward between us, but once I heard the news, all my worries disappeared. You and Jake seem so happy together, and you have no idea how thrilled I was when I heard that you guys are about to start a family. It’s so cute and I now know that there's no reason for me to worry about you getting mad about me and Heeseung. Although I was a little surprised your boyfriend attacked mine like that, but I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding.”

Karina spoke without pausing, giving you no time to digest her words and she didn’t seem to notice your growing annoyance as she continued to babble with that smug look on her face.

“Wait hold on, you and Heeseung are dating?” There was no way you heard her right.

But it seemed that you did as she nodded with a bright smile on her face. “Yeah it’s still kind of new only a couple of months but it’s been amazing. I mean I’m sure you know just as well that he’s like literally the best.” Her voice slowly drowned out as you took everything in. A couple of months ago was literally when you left for Monaco so it meant that Heeseung didn’t waste any time to make Karina his girlfriend.

“What the fuck, Karina?” You didn’t hold back, making sure she knew you were beyond enraged at this new revelation.

Her face held a surprised expression as you cut her off abruptly. “I’m sorry, but what do you mean?”

You rolled your eyes. You knew she understood exactly what you were talking about, and it infuriated you that she was pretending otherwise. You knew Karina too well; she was reveling in the fact that she currently had something you didn’t for the first time in her life.

“Drop the act, Karina. I don’t have time for this shit. We both know exactly what you’re trying to do, and it’s pathetic. You and your friends can call me a slut for supposedly cheating on Heeseung, but it’s rich coming from you when you and Heeseung literally did the same thing. Not to mention the fact that you two didn’t even wait a decent amount of time before getting together after he and I broke up. So honestly, I hope you’re both happy and sincerely, fuck you both.”

You didn't bother to stick around to hear whatever else she had to say. As you turned and walked away, you felt your eyes welling up with tears. You thought you were over Heeseung, but clearly, that wasn’t the case. The revelation of his new relationship pulled at your heartstrings, making you wonder if you ever really mattered to him the way he did to you. Nothing hurt more than realizing that the two year-long relationship you cherished above all else might have been a joke to him.

“Ryujin, I really don’t think I’m up for going out,” you sighed, looking at yourself in the mirror. Ryujin, on the other side of the room, was finishing her makeup at the vanity.

“No way, I told you, you’re not staying holed up moping around because of Heeseung again. You already did that in Monaco, and I’m not letting you waste any more time on that asshole. You’re coming out with us, and you are going to have an amazing night.”

Ryujin had finally come back the day before, and while having her by your side made you feel better, you couldn’t stop thinking about your ex.

“I seriously doubt one night of drinking and partying will make Heeseung disappear from my thoughts,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. You knew Ryujin would end up dragging you out, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t complain the whole time.

“I think you’re underestimating the power of a good night out. Who knows, maybe you’ll find some hottie to get your mind off everything,” Ryujin shrugged while spritzing perfume. “Maybe you should go looking for Jake.”

You shook your head at her. “Jake’s not going to help.”

“Well actually, from what I remember I think Jake helped a good bit with speeding up the process of you getting over moping about Heeseung a couple of months ago so who’s to say that it won’t work this time?”

“I am not sleeping with Jake again. That would literally make everything like so much worse. Everyone already thinks I’m pregnant with his kid. I don’t need more things to fuel that rumor.”

Ryujin wasn’t wrong about your summer situationship with Jake helping to distract you, but continuing it back here would only add fuel to the fire. Not to mention, your relationship with Jake was purely platonic with some sexual attraction. That was all it ever was even back in high school, and you had both talked at length about how neither of you saw a relationship beyond friendship. So even if you went to him looking for something more, Jake ultimately wouldn’t be able to give you what you wanted.

“Well then there’s other people! What about-” You cut her off abruptly.

You cut her off abruptly. “Ryujin, I know you’re just trying to help, and I really do appreciate it, but I just think sleeping with other people isn’t going to solve anything. I just want to lay low this semester and focus on school. I don’t want to be wrapped up in more drama.” Done with the conversation, you grabbed your purse, suddenly more eager to get to the party if it meant changing the subject.

“Ready to go?” you asked, and just like that, her eyes lit up and a wide, giddy smile spread across her face as she eagerly followed you out.

The Uber ride was short, and before you knew it, you had arrived. Hyunjin was known for throwing the best parties, and tonight was no exception. The massive manor, which you were all too familiar with, was already buzzing with more people than you imagined his parents would ever find acceptable.

“Hey, there you guys are!” Ryujin’s close friend Yujin, who you were also friendly with, excitedly ran over to greet you both. She had been studying abroad for 6 months and you hadn’t seen her since so you were even more elated to see her.

“Hey, Yujin! It’s been a while! You and Sunoo looked like you were having the time of your lives in Italy.” You greeted her warmly, following her inside as she led you to where all the drinks were.

“Oh yeah, it was beyond amazing, but I’m sure nothing compares to Monaco. God, I haven’t been there in ages.” She poured out shots and passed them to you and Ryujin. Without hesitation, the three of you knocked them back, grimacing slightly at the aftertaste.

“Fuck, I already miss it. It took like an hour to say goodbye to Louis, and I was so upset for the first 30 minutes of the plane ride. But the good thing about summer flings is that after the goodbyes, there's nothing left to hold onto, so it’s easy to get over.” Ryujin poured another shot for both of you while Yujin reached for a can of Ranch Water.

“I literally thought they were going to try something serious since she was with him all summer. Half the time, I couldn’t even find her because she and Louis were off somewhere, but I guess he really was just a summer fling.” You nudged your friend as Yujin let out an amused giggle.

“I bet! Those pics on your most recent Insta post, man, they were hot. What about you, Y/N? Any European hotties catch your eye?” Yujin wiggled her brows, and you rolled your eyes while reaching behind her for a can of Ranch Water.

“More like an Australian hottie,” Ryujin teased, and you instantly elbowed her.

“Jesus Christ, Ryujin, seriously shut up.” You shot her an annoyed look.

Yujin, however, seemed to find amusement in Ryujin’s remark as she gave you a wide-eyed look while giggling. “No way, so it’s true then?”

“Fuck no. I mean yeah, we hooked up, but I swear to God I’m not pregnant.” You shook your head vehemently.

You saw Yujin open her mouth, but Ryujin beat her to it, grabbing your arm. “Don’t turn around.”

Your brows furrowed at her panicked actions, and you started to turn your head, but she quickly stopped you. “What? What happened?”

“Fuck, Heeseung’s here,” Yujin answered, her eyes darting around past your head. “He’s over there near the pool table. Don’t turn around.”

You stood still, heart racing, as you listened to your friends' directions. You saw Ryujin's expression shift from panic to a scowl.

“And he brought Karina. She’s stuck on him like a fucking leech,” Ryujin sneered. Even before the summer, Ryujin had always been Karina’s number one hater, so her reaction was no surprise.

Quickly, you decided it would be best to leave the area, and the girls seemed to think the same as the three of you started to move. But before you could take a step out of the kitchen, a booming voice caught your attention.

“Y/N!” Sunghoon’s voice echoed through the music, loud enough for everyone in the vicinity to hear. You stiffened as you realized your presence was now exposed to everyone.

“Fuck, it’s been a long time!” He approached with a massive smile and, before you could even respond, engulfed you in a tight hug. Behind him, you spotted Jake trailing close by, rolling his eyes at his friend.

"Hey, Sunghoon," you greeted him back, debating whether to reciprocate the hug he wasn't letting go of.

"Okay, buddy, that's enough," Jake intervened, yanking his friend back.

"Oh, princess, you got even prettier while you were away! If that's even possible, but damn, you look amazing," Sunghoon's red, dopey eyes hinted at his intoxicated state.

"He's crossed," Jake confirmed, as if reading your mind.

"Oh God, why did you let him do that again?" Ryujin scolded Jake, delivering a disapproving look along with a smack on his arm.

"What the fuck! I'm not his babysitter," Jake retorted, shooting Ryujin a pointed look.

"Well, he is your best friend," you shrugged.

"I'm totally fine, you guys worry too much," Sunghoon shot everyone a smile before reaching for the drink in your hand, which you quickly pulled away.

"Yeah, Sunghoon, maybe lay off the drinking and smoking for now. I think I still have the video from the last time you got crossed," Yujin remarked, raising a skeptical brow at his current state. The mention of the video drew snorts of amusement from everyone except Sunghoon.

Instead, Sunghoon's eyes widened at her words, shaking his head vigorously. "I swear that won’t happen tonight."

"Well, it might if you keep this up," Ryujin added, recalling the infamous incident the last time Sunghoon was in this state. It involved projectile vomiting on a girl followed by passing out on her, effectively ruining any chance he might have had with her.

"Whatever," Sunghoon rolled his eyes, turning away, but before he could even take a step, he turned right back around (unsteadily with Jake stepping in to steady him), and blurted out, "Heeseung's here."

You could hear Jake cursing under his breath at Sunghoon’s words, while Ryujin nodded.

"Yeah, we were trying to sneak out of the kitchen before they noticed us, and then you had to go and yell Y/N’s name," Ryujin added.

"Oh," Sunghoon sheepishly nodded. "My bad."

"Does he have to fucking bring her everywhere?" Jake muttered, casting another glance towards where Heeseung and Karina were.

"You know, I even heard Jay’s getting sick of her tagging along everywhere."

"Where’d you hear that?" You shot Sunghoon a suspicious look.

“Gaeul.”

"She still hangs out with them?" Ryujin scoffed, clearly annoyed.

"She claims to be the neutral party between us."

“So she’s still being a fucking dumbass?” Ryujin shot back, clearly unimpressed with their friend’s stance.

"Well, she still reports everything back to us, so it's not all bad," Jake tried to reason, but Ryujin wasn't buying it.

From next to you, Yujin chuckled. "Your friend group is so fucking messy, thank God I'm not involved. I'm going to find Hyunjin for some weed. Good luck sorting out your drama." She shot you a wink before briskly walking away before anyone could respond.

"Are we really that messy?" Sunghoon asked innocently, but before anyone could answer, he vomited everywhere.

You were cursing under your breath as you tried to wash the puke out of your shorts, fuming at Park Sunghoon. Thankfully, they were black, so staining wasn't an issue, but standing in your underwear in a house party bathroom, scrubbing your pants instead of enjoying the night, was infuriating. Even if you managed to clean them, you'd be stuck wearing damp pants for the rest of the night.

As you wrung out the fabric, desperate to dry them as much as possible, the bathroom door suddenly swung open.

“Oh! Sorry— Y/N?” Heeseung’s eyes widened in surprise when he realized not only that someone was already in the bathroom but that it was you.

In your haste to escape Sunghoon's vomit, you must have forgotten to lock the door. Naturally, Heeseung had to be the one to barge in.

The two of you stood there awkwardly, each taking in the other's appearance. It was technically your first real encounter since your return, discounting the brief moment at your mother's garden party before Heeseung was promptly escorted away by his parents.

He looked way too good, enough to stir butterflies in your stomach. It was unsettling how Heeseung could still have this effect on you after everything that had happened.

"Hey, Y/N," he greeted cautiously, breaking the silence. The tension in the room was palpable.

"Hey, Heeseung," you replied, unsure of how to navigate the awkwardness.

"Sunghoon was right," he blurted out abruptly, his words coming out in a rush before he could stop himself.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What?"

"I-I mean, he said... that you look even prettier now," Heeseung stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I mean, not that you weren't pretty before, but, um... yeah."

Your cheeks warmed at his unexpected compliment. This wasn't how you had imagined your first conversation with him after coming back would go.

"Uh, thanks."

A few more uncomfortable seconds ticked by before Heeseung finally seemed to notice your state. "Uh, what are you doing?"

You had completely forgotten about your current attire—just in your underwear, a lacy black thong that had driven Heeseung wild a few months ago.

"Oh, Sunghoon threw up on me after getting crossed," you explained, shaking your head in annoyance as you returned to wringing out your shorts.

"Again? Fuck, he really needs to learn not to do that. If he had a nickel for every time he puked on a pretty girl while he was crossed, he'd have two," Heeseung remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. You couldn't help but let out a small laugh. There was no way you were actually laughing at your cheating ex’s jokes.

Heeseung seemed to relax a bit upon hearing your giggles, joining in with a laugh of his own.

"Here, let me help. There's probably a dryer around here somewhere," he offered, finally deciding to step into the bathroom as he closed the door behind him. He bent down, rifling through a couple of cabinets until he found what he was looking for.

"Fuck, I don't know why I didn't think of that earlier," you muttered, taking the dryer from him and plugging it in before switching it on.

He reached over to hold your shorts for you while you dried them. After a few minutes, you turned off the dryer, confident your shorts were dry enough by now. "Thanks," you said, taking them from him.

As you looked up at him, you suddenly became aware of the closeness between the two of you. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes locked with his.

Fuck he was hot.

You could feel the all-too-familiar warmth spreading throughout your body as the two of you held each other's gaze, neither daring to look away. Slowly, almost as if guided by muscle memory, you inched your faces closer until you could feel his breath on your lips, poised to kiss him. But a small voice in your head stopped you before you could fully lean in.

“Wait.”

Heeseung instantly pulled back. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"No, no it's not that. I can’t do that to Karina," you hurriedly explained, shaking your head. Tears threatened to spill over as the pain of Heeseung's past betrayal resurfaced. Despite any animosity toward Karina, you couldn't bring yourself to inflict that same hurt on anyone else.

"What?" Heeseung furrowed his brows, confusion etched across his face as he looked at you.

"Heeseung, you can't just fucking cheat on her after you cheated on me with her!" You shot him an incredulous look, unable to believe how close he had come to infidelity once again.

His head shook vehemently, confusion clouding his eyes. "What do you mean? If anything, you're the one who's cheating!"

"Jesus Christ, for the last fucking time, I'm not dating Jake!" You yelled in frustration.

“And I’m not dating Karina!”

The two of you stared at each other, mutual confusion now evident, leaving you both speechless.

“What?”

"Yeah, I'm not dating her! And what do you mean you're not dating Jake?" Heeseung shot back, equally bewildered.

"I literally saw her a couple of days ago, and she told me the two of you had been dating for a couple of months," you said, watching Heeseung shake his head in disbelief.

"What the fuck! She's fucking lying, we are not dating, let alone have been dating. That fucking bitch, literally what the fuck," Heeseung was beyond pissed.

You scoffed, equally heated. "Karina was literally rubbing it in my face about how happy you two were. And for your information, I have never dated Jake."

"What the fuck, Y/N? I fucking punched him!" Heeseung felt like he was going insane. Everything he had believed for the past few months was suddenly a lie.

You rolled your eyes at his outburst. "Yeah, I fucking know. I was there, if you remember! He still has a fucking split lip because of you, and my mom's still beyond mad about it."

You had to be lying, Heeseung couldn’t believe your words. “There’s no fucking way.”

“Yeah you fucking dumbass, you beat him up for nothing.”

“Wait, wait, wait no it’s still fucking justified! He was one of my best friends who went on and fucking slept with my girlfriend!” There was no way the two of you were actually having this conversation at a raging party after not seeing each other for three months.

"No, he didn't! Or at least not while we were dating, and I'm also not fucking pregnant!" Your voice echoed in the cramped bathroom. You were still intoxicated and could feel a headache coming on.

"Fuck you! Literally, everyone saw you two that night," Heeseung retorted sharply, but before he could continue, it seemed he fully absorbed your words, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. "So you have been fucking Jake!"

"Yeah, but only after we broke up, not before! And you can't be acting all innocent when you've literally been with Karina!" You were annoyed by his accusatory tone. He was such a fucking hypocrite.

"Okay, but I didn't blatantly sleep with her at a party while we were still together like you did—"

You cut him off by smashing your lips against his, needing to silence him in any way possible. You couldn't stand another moment of arguing about this.

You could feel Heeseung freeze for a second, taken aback by your action, but he quickly recovered as you could feel his lips move against yours.

There was nothing romantic about the kiss as the two of you hungrily pushed back against each other, fighting for dominance. Teeth clashed against each other as your tongues battled back and forth and you could barely breathe, but it seemed that neither of you considered stopping anytime soon.

His hands quickly found themselves ripping your top off you as yours went straight down to undo his pants and push them down. You finally pulled away from the kiss to spit on your hand before going straight back into his lips. Not a second was spared to think about your actions as you didn’t hesitate to stick your hand down his underwear. He was already half-hard and you quickly wrapped your hand around his length, inciting a groan out of him.

While one hand worked on pushing down his underwear the other worked on pumping him. Heeseung was in almost the same state as one of his hands was found groping at your boobs, playing with your nipple, while the other also attempted to pull your underwear down.

As soon as your thong reached mid-thigh, Heeseung quickly broke the kiss to turn you around and roughly push you down against the bathroom counter. You jolted at the cold counter pressing against your already sensitive nipples but Heeseung pushed down hard on your back so you couldn’t lift yourself up. You looked helpless in the mirror and without warning you felt his dick plunging deep inside of you.

You gasped at the intrusion. Sharp pain erupted within you as tears welled in your eyes and you could do nothing except tightly squeeze them shut while your hands desperately attempted to grab at anything to hold on to. Heeseung had started to fuck you without even giving you a second to adjust and your cries filled the bathroom.

You hadn’t been fucked like this in so long and sure Jake was a freak in bed with a big dick but he had never considered fucking you before making sure you were prepped. No, this was Heeseung’s specialty. He fucking loved it and you couldn’t help but also find yourself loving the pain that came with his pleasure.

“Fucking slut, look at yourself,” Heeseung growled in your ear before roughly grabbing your hair and pulling it back, forcing you to face yourself in the mirror.

“Please, Heeseung,” you could barely moan out.

His hand gripped your hip so tightly that he knew bruises from his fingers were sure to be left afterward and his eyes were crazed as he battered himself even harder against your cervix, giving you no respite.

“What? What else could you want, I’m already fucking you. Greedy whore.” You felt yourself clench tighter around him as you heard his words. You were almost there as you could feel the tight coil just about ready to snap.

“Oh fuck, Heeseung harder,” you screamed.

Heeseung did just as you asked and as if it was possible, you felt him force himself even deeper inside you at a faster pace. You knew he was battering deep at your cervix, but you were too focused on chasing your orgasm that you couldn’t even care for the dull aching pain. His hand in your hair pushed your head against the mirror and you found yourself unable to stop yourself from drooling and fogging up the mirror. His animalistic grunts filled your ear and the grip in your hair got tighter.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You screamed out as the coil snapped and you felt yourself reaching your ultimate high. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you slumped against the mirror, having no strength to hold yourself up.

Heeseung was also close as you felt his cock twitch inside you and before you knew it, warm spurts of cum painted inside of you as you felt him thrust a couple of more times while he panted. He came so much that you could even feel some drip down the inside of your thighs.

“Fuck,” he breathed out as he slowly pulled out, watching his cum drip out of you and land on the bathroom floor.

You were still slumped against the mirror, attempting to catch your breath and process what had just happened.

As your eyes connected with Heeseung’s through the mirror, a rush of emotions overwhelmed you. The weight of what the two of you had just done bore down on you, and shame began to smother you, making you feel like you were suffocating. You couldn't stay there with him a moment longer. Quickly, you dressed yourself, doing your best to ignore the aching pain between your legs. Heeseung looked confused by your sudden change, but before he could say anything, you were out the door, leaving him to dwell on the implications of your actions.

You honestly hadn’t been listening to anything Ryujin had been saying for the past couple of minutes as she rambled on. Instead, you stared at the piece of salmon on your plate, analyzing each line that ran through the fish. If you didn’t focus on this, your mind would start drifting back to what happened yesterday, and you'd rather shoot yourself in the foot than think about that.

“Hey, Y/N, are you even listening?” Ryujin raised her voice, trying to get your attention.

Snapping out of it, you finally took your eyes away from your dinner and looked up at her. “Oh, sorry, I got distracted.”

“Yeah, no shit. I’ve been talking to you, and you went catatonic or something. What is up with you?” She furrowed her brows at your unusual behavior.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you quickly responded, but you knew the second she put her utensils down that she wasn’t buying it.

“Don’t fucking try to lie to me. I can see through your bullshit. What’s wrong?” Her gaze was intense, analyzing you as if there would be an external sign explaining your strange behavior.

You sighed, debating whether to tell her exactly what had happened. Deciding against it, you realized that if you opened that can of worms, things would get even messier. “Uhm, I don’t know, I guess I’m just still hungover.”

“You didn’t even drink that much yesterday, though,” she said, brows still furrowed. She had noticed you hadn’t come out of your room all day and had to literally drag you out just to get dinner with her.

“Are you sick? You don’t really look sick though.”

You shook your head, searching for anything to blame your odd behavior on. “Uhm, I just think I bruised my cervix, and it just hurts.”

Her eyes instantly widened, and you could see her holding back a grin. “Oh my fucking God, you slut. You had me thinking something actually bad had happened! When did you and Sim even run off to fuck?”

You sighed in relief, glad that she was distracted by the news you had just dropped on her. She didn’t notice the lingering look in your eyes that indicated there was actually something deeper driving you mad.

“Uh, quickie in the bathroom. I don’t know, you were probably too drunk to notice.”

She hummed while nodding. “Yeah, I’m not going to lie, I don’t really remember much after Sunghoon puked everywhere. But fuck, a bruised cervix from a quickie is insane. Oh, Yujin is going to love this.”

“Yeah, it’s a fucking bitch. I feel like I’m sitting on a knife or something,” you said. You weren’t lying about this part—you were sure Heeseung had actually bruised your cervix with how hard he fucked you last night—but you were fine letting her think you had slept with Jake instead.

“Oh, my poor baby. No wonder you’ve been in bed all day. Let’s just get this boxed up and head back to the apartment. Geez, I’m gonna have to have a talk with Jake later.” You flashed her a smile, nodding at her suggestion, glad that this not only got her off your back but also got you out of having to stay another thirty minutes at this restaurant.

Y/N (evil bitch) 👹:

if anyone asks we fucked last night kk?

JAKEY 🤢🦮:

wtf

Y/N (evil bitch) 👹:

no questions pls

JAKEY 🤢🦮:

fuck that what’d u do 🤨

Y/N (evil bitch) 👹:

none of your business go back to playing roblox with riki or something 🙄

JAKEY 🤢🦮:

THAT WAS ONE TIME

JAKEY 🤢🦮:

fuck you

JAKEY 🤢🦮:

tell me!!!!! you made it my business when you dragged my dick into whatever it is so i deserve to know 😤

Y/N (evil bitch) 👹:

i bruised my cervix

JAKEY 🤢🦮:

HUH

JAKEY 🤢🦮:

NO I’M NOT TAKING THE BLAME FOR THAT??

Y/N (evil bitch) 👹:

everyone’s gonna think you have a big dick

JAKEY 🤢🦮:

bet 🙂‍↕️

The rest of the weekend passed without Ryujin or anyone else probing into your life, and you couldn’t have been happier. There were so many moments where you debated whether or not you should reach out to Heeseung, but you quickly dismissed the idea. Besides, you had blocked him on everything, and you were sure he had done the same, so there would be no point in trying.

Distracted by thoughts of Heeseung, it had completely slipped from your mind that school was starting back on Monday. Last night (thanks to Ryujin of course), you hurriedly packed your school bag and made sure you had everything for the first day.

And while you usually enjoyed school, just from today, you already felt overwhelmed. It seemed that all your professors had decided to assign work and readings for the next class. You were already swamped with assignments, feeling the weight of the semester ahead.

“Okay, but don’t you think I at least deserve to know who you slept with?” Jake's voice cut through your thoughts as you walked through the library shelves, searching for a book your professor had assigned out of nowhere that wasn’t even mentioned in the syllabus. You had been barely listening to his yapping as most of your focus was on finding the book.

“Ryujin won’t stop talking my ear off about how I broke you and how you couldn’t move all weekend. She thinks I’m an ass and won’t stop scolding me like I’m the one who did it! I’m a gentleman—I’d never bruise anyone’s cervix without permission,” Jake said with an exasperated tone, trailing behind you.

“I’m pretty sure gentlemen, at least the ones i know don’t beg on their knees for anal-”

He cut you off, his eyes widening. “Alright, alright! That was one time and I was drunk. Jesus, woman! And don’t act like you didn’t let me do it—you were perfectly fine with it. Either way, I still feel like I should know who the fella is.”

“Please don’t say fella, it’s such a turn-off.” You scrunched your face at his choice of vocabulary, shaking your head before turning back to search for your book.

“Okay, fine, whatever. I just want to know who I’m protecting from Ryujin’s annoying ass, and honestly, I think Sunghoon overheard her, so now we can assume the whole school knows.” It was well-known that once any news hit Sunghoon, it spread through the school like wildfire. He had a bit of a loose lip and an affinity for gossip, making him the school’s personal Deuxmoi, but with none of the anonymity (maybe Perez Hilton was a better comparison).

“I’m serious, Jake, you don’t want to know. Just leave it. You owe me anyway.” By now, you were growing increasingly irritated with Jake’s relentless probing and the fact that you still couldn’t find the damn book.

He shot you an incredulous look. “Owe you for what? Now you’re just making up debts that don’t even exist!”

“Anal,” you replied without missing a beat, already smiling, knowing his reaction.

“Oh my God, Y/N, fuck you literally! Geez, if someone had told me this was the price I had to pay for putting it in the ass once, I wouldn’t have even touched it with a ten-foot pole,” Jake exclaimed, and you couldn’t help but giggle. You loved to mess with Jake, especially because he was always so overly dramatic and had the best reactions.

“Seriously, Jake, you don’t want to know. You did your job, so thanks, but please stop bothering me about this.” You flashed him an exaggerated smile and patted him on the head.

Jake’s eyes widened, and he stopped in his tracks. “No fucking way.”

“What?” You didn’t like how he was staring at you.

“Please don’t tell me you slept with Heeseung.” The smile on your face instantly vanished as you froze at his words. How the fuck did he know?

“No fucking way. You just slept with the enemy? Are you kidding me? Do you see this?” He gestured dramatically at his face. “This is the aftermath of my survival from his wrath and proof that I fought valiantly for you. And you go ahead and sleep with him? Oh my God, and you made everyone think I fucked up your vagina when it was actually him? Holy shit, wait until Ryujin hears about this.” You quickly reached over and clamped your hand over his mouth, realizing how absurdly loud he was being in the library.

“Shut the fuck up, you’re practically screaming! And what the fuck are you even talking about? Of course, I would never sleep with Heeseung.” You did your best to mask your surprise, hoping he wouldn’t catch on.

Jake shook his head, scoffing in disbelief. “You’re such a shit liar. The only other time I remember your cervix getting bruised was when Heeseung fucked you on that yacht last Christmas. Remember how you had a hard time sitting straight at Christmas dinner?”

Fuck, he got you there.

You sighed and reluctantly nodded, closing your eyes in frustration. “Okay, fine. But please don’t tell Ryujin, Sunghoon, or anyone else. I already feel like shit about it, and my self-worth is in the gutter right now. I’ve been sick all weekend just thinking about it.”

“He didn’t force you or anything, right?” Jake's face shifted to one of genuine concern, his brows knitting together.

You shook your head. “No, of course not. It’s just that I regret it so much. I felt so gross afterward. It was just a really, really bad drunken mistake, and I don’t want to talk about it. Seriously, thanks for covering for me. You’re literally the best because I really don’t want anyone to find out. I just want to forget about it.”

Jake studied you for a moment, clearly understanding how much this was affecting you. He nodded, reaching out to give you a comforting hug, which you gratefully returned while you let out a sigh. “Yeah, don’t worry. I won’t say anything. Just let me know if he tries anything else or if you need anything.”

The hug was comforting, a small balm for the turmoil of the weekend. You were relieved he didn’t press further or make you feel worse about what happened. However, as you started to pull away, a familiar voice sliced through the air, bringing with it an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. Jake’s groan confirmed the arrival of the last person you wanted to see.

“In the library is kinky, but what can I expect from the two of you? Always so classy,” Karina’s smug tone cut through the air. You and Jake quickly broke from the hug, and you rolled your eyes as you faced her, already irritated by her presence.

“Are you stupid or like blind? Cause obviously if you weren’t then you’d be able to clearly see we were just hugging you fucking dumbass,” Jake snapped back, his tone sharp. Normally, you’d find his sass amusing, but Karina’s presence seemed to have sucked out any potential humor in the air.

“Jesus, Jake, you’re such an ass,” Karina snapped back at him before turning her attention to you. “Get your dog on a leash, would you? Maybe you should have been more careful about who you chose to have a kid with. The anger issues are seriously concerning with this one, not to mention the aggression. Heard about what happened over the weekend.”

“Karina literally shut the fuck up. You know damn well I’m not pregnant. It’s not even funny anymore; you’re just dragging it out. Just fucking mind your own business,” you snapped, your anger bubbling over. You could see Jake’s jaw clenched tight, his irritation matching your own.

“Well actually it kind of is my business 'cause Heeseung has been MIA all weekend, and I can’t help but wonder—since you’re such a slut—if you had something to do with it. The past few months since you two left were perfect, but the second you come back, everything seems to be fucked up. So tell me, what the hell happened at the party?” Karina’s sneer was almost unbearable, and you fought the urge to slap her.

“Maybe he finally realized what a fucking bitch you are.”Jake’s voice was laced with disdain. If Ryujin was Karina’s biggest hater, Jake wouldn’t be far behind her. Even as kids he hated even having to sit at the same table as her so his hostility towards her was all too familiar for you.

Karina ignored him as her glare remained fixed on you. Her pretty face now twisted into a deep frown and you knew she was pissed. It was a stark contrast to the fake friendliness she’d shown you just a week ago at the grocery store.

“I didn’t fucking do anything, and I don’t want anything to do with him, so fuck off. Seriously. Maybe Jake’s right—he finally realized how much of a clingy piece of shit you are,” you shot back, frustration evident in your voice. You should have known that Karina would notice Heeseung missing from her side for a good portion of Friday night.

Karina’s expression hardened as she took a step closer, unyielding. “You’re such a shit liar. What did you do?”

“This is bullshit. Let’s fucking go,” Jake said, grabbing your arm and pulling you away. Neither of you wanted to spend another second there.

“You know he said I did it better than you, right?” Karina’s taunt was intended to provoke, and it did just that. You froze, feeling her words hit hard despite knowing she was just trying to get under your skin.

“C’mon, let’s go. Don’t fucking listen to her,” Jake urged, tugging you along again. As much as you tried to ignore her, her words had a lingering effect, and you hated that they got under your skin.

You didn’t care that this was your last year in college; you were convinced that you needed to transfer anywhere far away from here. There was no way you could endure a whole year of torment from Heeseung and Karina. As if to cement this decision, today seemed determined to be the worst day of your life. The moment you arrived at your apartment, rage surged through you when you saw who was waiting for you in front of your door.

“I’m going to fucking call security,” you instantly snapped, pulling your phone out of your back pocket.

Heeseung’s eyes went wide as his hands reached out in front of him. “Wait, wait, wait! Please, Y/N.”

You stared up at him, his eyes pleading with you to hear him out. Those bambi eyes always got to you, and this time was no different. With a roll of your eyes, you slowly put your phone down. “Okay, but I swear to God, if you try anything—”

“I swear I won’t! I promise, I just really need to talk to you. I’ve tried texting you, but I think you blocked me,” Heeseung said, sheepishly scratching the back of his head.

“Fine,” you muttered before walking past him, opening your apartment door, and stepping inside. You left the door open, signaling that he could come in, but he seemed hesitant, staring at the open door.

“Are you coming in or not?”

He blinked a couple of times, surprised that you were allowing him into your apartment, but he quickly followed you in and closed the door behind him. He hadn’t been inside in so long that it felt almost surreal. Everything looked exactly the same, and he found himself realizing that he had kind of missed being here.

“Wow, nothing’s changed,” Heeseung remarked, his tone revealing his surprise, especially as he noticed the photo of the two of you still on top of the kitchen counter.

You followed his gaze and felt heat rise to your face. You didn’t really know why you hadn’t taken it down. “Uh, yeah, I mean, I also haven’t been here for like three months, so I didn’t really have time to change anything.”

Heeseung nodded, but as his eyes trailed back to you, he found himself staring, forgetting his words. You were as gorgeous as ever, but it seemed that the time away had only made him realize how even more beautiful you were.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” The air between the two of you was awkward, just like at the party however, seeing him sober during the day gave you a much clearer look at him, and you wanted to fucking die. You hated that effect he had on you.

“Oh, yeah, sorry, uh, I just wanted to check up on you. Friday was kind of intense, and you ran off before I could say anything, so I was worried. I’m sorry for being so rough with you. I shouldn’t have done that.” Heeseung had been beating himself up over how he had treated you, so much so that he hadn’t talked to anyone all weekend despite his phone blowing up with messages from his friends.

“It’s fine. It was something we both wanted, and if anything, it’s on me. I kissed you first, so I’m sorry for that.”

Heeseung shook his head. “No, don’t be sorry, seriously it’s okay, but uhm, I also just wanted to make sure you knew that I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t dating Karina. I swear I’m not.”

Your brows furrowed as you recalled the incident in the library a couple of hours ago. “Well, does Karina know that?”

“What?”

"She confronted me and Jake at the library, demanding to know what I did for you to ghost her all weekend." Heeseung frowned slightly at Jake’s name, and his frown deepened as he listened to what Karina had done. "From what it looks like, she seems to believe that your relationship is much more than whatever you’re saying it is."

“What the fuck? I swear we’re not together. I—” He stopped himself and sighed, realizing that to make you understand he was telling the truth, he had to tell you everything. “Fuck, I— Uh, shit, we’ve just been kind of hooking up, but I swear that’s all.”

He looked almost embarrassed admitting the nature of his and Karina’s relationship, and you could feel a part of your heart waver at what you heard. For him to admit out loud to you and confirm what you had thought was happening hurt despite you knowing that you didn’t have a right as you two weren’t together anymore.

“Oh, uh, okay.” You nodded as you quickly turned around and opened the fridge. You pretended to look around as if you meant to open the fridge before reaching to get the Brita out for water. You knew that if you faced him, the tear welling up in your eyes would pour down your face.

Heeseung went into a near-panic as he saw your reaction. Having dated you for over two years and known you for your entire life, he could tell you were upset. He noticed your shoulders tensing as you kept your back to him, looking into the fridge.

“Wait, wait, but I swear it’s nothing more than that, and I promise whatever happened between Karina and me is over. I don’t have any feelings for her—I never did. She was just there after you left, and it just happened,” he rushed to explain. But his words only seemed to make you feel worse as he continued to ramble.

“Why are you telling me this? You think this is going to make me want to get back with you?” You shook your head in annoyance, grabbing a glass from a cabinet and filling it with water from the Brita.

“No! I’m not trying to convince you of anything,” he said, now genuinely panicked. This was not how he intended the conversation to go.

“You know what she said?”

“Huh?”

“Karina, you know what she said?” He slowly shook his head, clearly confused by where you were going with this.

“She said that you told her she did it better than I ever did,” you snapped, your anger evident as you stared him down.

His eyes widened in shock, and he scoffed in disbelief. “What the fuck! I’ve never said anything like that to her or to anyone, and it’s not fucking true.”

“What? So she’s just lying to get under my skin?” You were fuming, frustration etched across your face. “Karina’s a fucking bitch, but even she wouldn’t just make something like that up. You must’ve hinted at something for her to believe it.”

“No, no, no, I swear I haven’t said or done anything remotely like what she’s claiming. She’s a fucking liar,” Heeseung's anger flared as he defended himself, clearly outraged at Karina’s audacity.

“Well, it still doesn’t change the fact that you ran straight to her bed the second I was out of the country—literally one fucking day after we broke up!” You huffed, clearly pissed.

“Ok well don’t fucking act like you didn’t do the exact same with Jake. What the hell, Y/N? It isn’t my fault we broke up! You literally slept with one of my best friends!” Heeseung's frustration boiled over, clearly bewildered that you were still trying to act like you had no role in ending the relationship.

“I’ve told you a million times that I didn’t cheat on you with Jake! What more do I have to say for you to believe me?” You were fed up with defending yourself on this issue.

Heeseung rolled his eyes, “Honestly, aren’t you tired of keeping all this up? Beomgyu’s video and Karina along with everyone else hearing about you two should be enough proof.”

“Oh my fucking God! Jake went into the bathroom with me to help because I was puking my guts out. I drank way too much that night because I was so upset after seeing my fucking boyfriend cuddling with some other bitch all night! You’re genuinely a complete moron if you think Beomgyu and Karina are reliable sources. Beomgyu’s been a fucking asshole to me since freshman year because he’s still bitter that I refused to sleep with him, and Karina has wanted to get with you for as long as I can remember. Seriously, I thought you had at least some common sense in you!” You were yelling so loudly that your throat was already starting to feel raw.

Heeseung shook his head in disbelief. He had no idea Beomgyu had even tried to make a move on you, and now that he thought about it, he realized there had always been tension between the two of you. While he knew about Karina’s crush on him, he hadn’t thought she’d actually go as far as to lie about this. “Okay, well people still heard you two together.”

“Fucking hell, Heeseung, it was a house party with a hundred people. You really think anyone could hear anything over the music? You know what, whatever—believe what you want. There’s no point in trying to convince you otherwise. I’ve been honest with you the whole time, and it’s been you who’s been unwilling to listen. You dumped me without even considering my side, even though you were the one neglecting me during that last month before we broke up, spending all your time with Karina. Honestly, even if you’re telling the truth about not sleeping with her before we broke up, it doesn’t change the fact that you emotionally cheated. The number of dates you forgot or canceled to be with her, and how many times I saw you two together on campus when you said you were just hanging out with the guys. Whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore. We’re not together. Just get out.”

Tears streamed down your face, and you didn’t bother wiping them away. You wanted Heeseung to see the pain he had caused you.

Heeseung was at a loss for words as he saw the pain etched across your face. It broke his heart and he couldn’t help but start to realize that maybe there was a chance you were telling the truth and that he might be to blame for everything. He felt his heart crumble. “Y/N…”

You sniffed and shook your head. “Get out, Heeseung. I never want to see you again.”

It had been a week since Heeseung had gone over to your apartment, and every day since, he had been determined to find a way to make it up to you. He knew what your last words to him were, but there was no way he was going to let you go that easily, especially now that he realized he was most likely the one in the wrong and that Karina was a fucking bitch. He had come to that solid conclusion five days prior when he finally decided it was time to confront her.

“Oh my God, what the fuck? Seriously, where have you been? What happened? You literally just disappeared,” Karina ran over to him once she saw him at the café he told her to meet him at.

Even looking at her face made Heeseung want to vomit. “I heard what you did.”

Karina frowned, not understanding what he was saying as she took a seat across from him. “What do you mean?”

“Y/N told me about what you did at the library.” Heeseung tried his best to keep his tone even, attempting to mask the rage he was feeling toward her.

Karina nervously laughed, trying to brush it off. So, he was with you while he ghosted her. “Oh yeah, I ran into her and Jake trying to get it on at the back of the library. Isn’t that fucking insane, like in public like that?”

Heeseung wasn’t in any mood to entertain her. He was already at a boiling point. “Cut the fucking bullshit. She also told me what you said to her at the grocery store. I don’t know what I did to make you think that we’re dating, but we’re not. I don’t even remotely like you.”

“What?” Karina was taken aback by his words. Sure, Heeseung was never as affectionate and loving towards her as he was with you, but she thought she had made good progress in getting him to fall for her.

“Yeah, so I swear to God if I hear you telling anyone else that we’re dating, I will get a fucking restraining order. You have been nothing more than an easy lay for me to get my mind off Y/N this whole time. I let you hang around me because I felt bad, but that’s over now, especially since I realized you’ve been lying to everyone, including me, about everything.”

Karina’s face paled as she took in his words. She opened her mouth to say something, but he didn’t give her a chance. “Also, you’re delusional if you think you’re even comparable to Y/N, much less better than her. Go learn how to actually suck a dick before going around telling anyone that. Seriously, fuck off, and don’t ever talk to me or my friends again.”

Heeseung took off right after that, leaving Karina sitting alone at the table. It felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest as he stormed out of the cafe. Since then, he’d been planning a way to get you to hear him out. The only thing he could come up with was outsourcing, and in this case, that meant trying to reach you through the people you hung around.

It was a no-brainer that trying to talk to Ryujin and actually getting her to hear him out would be harder than getting you to talk to him again, so that was out of the question, which left him with only one other choice.

Just standing in front of the apartment was making him pissed, but he knew this was probably his best bet. He let out a big sigh before knocking loudly. He waited a couple of seconds, and after a bit, he wondered if he should knock again, but before he could, the door opened.

“What the fuck?”

Heeseung was the last person Jake would have expected to be on the other side of the door, and it caught him severely off guard.

Heeseung hadn’t seen Jake since he beat him at your mother’s garden party, and while it seemed that any previous marks left on his face from the fight were gone, Heeseung still felt bad. Okay, well, actually he didn’t feel that bad because he was still beyond pissed at Jake. Heeseung had by now come to the conclusion that you were most likely telling the truth about not cheating on him, but it still didn’t change the fact that Jake had fucked you who knows how many times after the two of you broke up.

Jake had always been a very close friend of his since childhood, and if Heeseung was being honest, in high school there were a good number of times when he couldn’t help but find himself envying his friend. It was kind of always known in your friend group that Heeseung had always had a tiny bit of a crush on you. So, when it became known that Jake had been the one to take your virginity, Heeseung was beyond crushed. In fact, he had avoided Jake for a good week, too envious of the fact that it wasn’t him who had been your first. But he was quickly able to get (mostly) over it as he couldn’t deny that he wasn’t surprised; you and Jake had always been the closest. But now, knowing that Jake had broken bro code made that resentment resurface, and he wasn’t sure if it was going away anytime soon (if ever).

“I need to talk to you,” Heeseung reluctantly said.

“Fuck no,” Jake responded with a condescending laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

Heeseung’s jaw tightened as he pleaded, “Jake, please.”

Jake stared him down, scrutinizing every aspect of him, clearly enjoying Heeseung's desperation. “Why? Y/N told me what happened on Monday. You’re a fucking asshole.”

“You don’t think I don’t know that? That’s why I’m here. Just let me in,” Heeseung said, his patience wearing thin.

“What’s in it for me?” Jake crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. Heeseung could tell he was relishing the sight of him getting so desperate.

“You already got to fuck my girlfriend as many times as you wanted. Don’t you think that’s enough?” Heeseung gritted his teeth, his voice tight with anger.

Jake rolled his eyes but opened the door, letting Heeseung in. “You know she’s not your girlfriend anymore, right?”

If Heeseung wasn’t so determined to win you back, he would have had no issue punching Jake in the face again. But he needed Jake’s help, so he held back and tried his best it ignore him.

“I need your help,” Heeseung said, crossing his arms and facing Jake.

Jake barely glanced at him as he headed to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of what Heeseung assumed was a protein shake. He started to shake it, more focused on his drink, acting almost as if Heeseung wasn’t even there. “You’re funny if you think I’m going to help you with anything.”

Heeseung sighed once again, watching Jake’s dismissive attitude. God, Jake was such a dick. “I know I fucked up.”

“Yeah? Took you long enough to realize.”

“I need help getting her back.” Jake let out a derisive snort that he didn’t even bother to hide.

“Holy shit, you’re delusional. What makes you think I’d help you?” Jake’s laughter was infuriating, and Heeseung started to regret coming here.

“Jake, I know what I did. I know there’s nothing that can fully make up for it, but I need Y/N back. I’m begging you, man, I need your help.” Heeseung’s pride was at rock bottom, but he didn’t care. If this was what he had to let go of to win back the love of his life, so be it.

“You literally cheated on her. Why the fuck would I help someone who cheated on her try to win her back? You don’t deserve her.” Heeseung couldn’t deny it anymore; he had emotionally cheated on you, whether he intended to or not and it sickened him to realize that he was responsible for your pain.

“I know I don’t deserve her, and I also realize what I did and how I’m responsible for everything. I know now that the last month before we broke up was terrible for her, and I was a complete asshole. I didn’t mean to hurt her; everything just spiraled so quickly that I didn’t have time to process it. I swear I’m not trying to make excuses—there aren’t any. But the last three months have been hell for me. You don’t understand how empty I’ve felt, how much it’s all hurt. Hearing that you two came back together from wherever you guys were fucked me up so badly that I ended up taking it out on you, and I’m sorry for that—it was fucked up. But what I’m trying to say is that this whole summer has made me realize just how much I need her. Seeing her again has only made that clearer. I should have listened to her that night, but I was so blinded by anger about you two that I lost control, and you have no idea how much I fucking regret it. Talking to her last week made me see just how badly I fucked up, and I guess I was too caught up in Karina’s lies to accept the truth. I know I don’t deserve her, but please, I just need one last chance to make things right.” Heeseung’s sincerity was evident in every word, and Jake could tell that this was something Heeseung had been tormenting himself over for a while.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Jake said honestly. “I don’t even know how I can help. This is between you two.”

He hadn’t expected Heeseung to lay everything out so openly, and he was a bit taken aback. But Jake still struggled to fully support Heeseung. He knew how miserable and broken you had been after the breakup, and he wasn’t sure he could let you go through something like that again.

“I just need her to know that I’m sorry and to hear me out just once more. I know I don’t deserve it, but please. This was all I thought about this entire week, and I don’t know what else to do. I mean I came all the way over here to you of all people because of how desperate I am. I know you don’t owe me anything, especially after everything, but please, I’m begging you. Help me out, man.” Heeseung’s eyes were filled with desperation, and Jake let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Is Karina still in the picture?”

“Fuck no, and I made sure she understood. She’s literally the worst mistake I ever made, and I should’ve known better. I just didn’t think she’d take it this far, but I swear, there was nothing between us to begin with. She just caught me at a vulnerable time and took advantage of it. I fully acknowledge the mess I made in the month leading up to Y/N and me breaking up, and I know it’s probably too late now, but please, Jake. Y/N is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You of all people should know that, so I can’t just let this go without trying one more time.”

Heeseung couldn’t even lift his head to face Jake anymore, his eyes focused on his trembling fingers. The shame of his actions weighed heavily on him, and admitting it all out loud took a lot out of him.

A few seconds of silence passed, and Heeseung assumed Jake was deliberating. With each passing second, his anxiety spiked, and he desperately wished Jake would say something, anything.

“Fuck, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but okay,” Jake said, his tone heavy with disbelief. Heeseung’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with shock. “There’s no guarantee this will even work, but I’ll try something. Just know that I’m not taking this lightly. If you mess it up again, I’ll fucking kill you. I’m not kidding. The moment I see Karina anywhere near you, you’re dead. I’m only doing this because I know how much you meant to her and how miserable she’s been without you.”

Heeseung’s smile stretched so wide it made his cheeks hurt, but he didn’t care. “Thank you so much. Seriously, thank you, man. I really owe you.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Jake said, rolling his eyes at how excited Heeseung was. “But if Y/N isn’t having it, there’s literally nothing else I can do. So don’t get your hopes up.”

“No, I get it. Seriously, thank you so much. And I’m genuinely sorry for everything. It was fucked up for me to fight you like that.” Heeseung wasn’t sure if things with their friend group would ever return to normal, but he’d be lying if he denied that he missed having his friends around. A small bit of him kind of hoped this might be a step in the right direction of maybe getting everything back to normal.

“Yeah, whatever. I guess I kind of deserved it for sleeping with your girl,” Jake said with a hint of sarcasm.

Okay, maybe Heeseung wasn’t entirely fine with Jake being around like before as he felt one of his eyes twitch in irritation at the reminder of Jake being in your bed all summer, but he pushed the thought aside. “Just don’t make it a habit.”

“We’ll see. Don’t fuck it up.”

Heeseung felt another twitch in his eye. Maybe he wasn’t entirely over the idea of killing Jake Sim.

You had been sort of in a weird state of limbo where it seemed that a part of you was still wallowing in the sadness that came after the whole fight with Heeseung in your apartment but also there was also a part of you that was just kind of irritated with everything and you weren’t sure how to get yourself free from this state.

And it seemed the latter was taking over your current state as you let out a grunt of frustration as you attempted to hit the ball over the net, only for it to get caught and cause you to lose. Shouts of amusement came from across the court as you sneered in annoyance.

“Ha! Dinner’s on you! Oh, princess you fucking suck at this.” Jake was a little too happy about your loss as he giggled around the court.

Sweat drenched the both of you as the setting sun’s heat blazed relentlessly down the two of you. “You know that I’m usually good! You’re just better today I guess.”

You sheepishly shrugged before chugging your water from your water bottle on the side, the cold liquid instantly quenching your thirst. You were so ready to leave and get food.

“You just got unlucky that Sunghoon wasn’t here. There’s no doubt he’d be buying dinner. I’ve never seen someone worse at pickleball than he is.” You both let out a small laugh thinking about your mutual friend and his lack of athleticism.

"Yeah, honestly, I know he said he was sick or something, but I bet he just said that to dodge paying for dinner," you muttered, tossing your keys at Jake after packing up your paddle and balls. "You're driving, though."

He caught the keys without protest, shrugging as he followed you to the car. After unlocking it, he slid into the driver’s seat, immediately grimacing. “Jesus, what the fuck is this seat positioning?”

“Leave me alone, it’s my car,” you rolled your eyes, watching as he adjusted the seat to his liking.

“Too nice of a car for such a shitty driver like you,” he snorted, making you gasp in offense.

But before you could fire anything back, he quickly switched the subject. "So, who's Ryujin going on a date with tonight?"

"Some new European exchange student, I think his name’s Armand? Not sure, but I’m pretty sure he’s French."

"Where the hell is she finding all these European guys?" Jake shook his head.

Pickleball was usually a doubles match with you, Jake, Sunghoon, and Ryujin, but Sunghoon had bailed, claiming he was sick (though you weren’t convinced), and Ryujin was off on her date.

"I think he's in her finance class—or at least that’s what Yujin said. But yeah, she clearly has a type," you snorted, sending Ryujin a quick text to see how the date was going.

"That’s an understatement. I’m surprised she got over Louis that fast. And how the hell does Yujin still know everything about everyone despite being abroad for a whole semester?"

The circle you and your family had always been surrounded by was small, a natural outcome of the exclusive lifestyle the upper echelon of society led—one not easily accessible to just anyone. This circle was even tighter at your school, where everyone with status seemed to gravitate. As soon as someone new entered the fold, it took only a few days for word to spread, and soon enough, everyone knew everything about them, especially if they came from a similarly privileged background. So it was no surprise that even after studying abroad in Italy for 6 months, Yujin still managed to stay in the loop.

“You know you don’t actually have to be on campus to keep up with everything,” you sighed, rolling your eyes.

It was frustrating, sometimes even invasive, to know that every move you made was watched and analyzed, but it seemed to be the price you and your friends paid for the lives you led.

Jake hummed in agreement, and for a few moments, the car was uncharacteristically quiet. It was unusual—Jake was never one to keep his mouth shut, so his silence could only mean one thing.

"Ugh, what?" you groaned, turning your phone off and shifting your focus to his profile.

Jake shot you a brief look of confusion before turning his attention back to the road. "What?"

"Just spit it out." You knew all too well that when Jake went quiet, it meant he was holding back something important—and more often than not, it wasn’t good news.

He gave you another glance, this one doing nothing to ease the knot forming in your stomach, before letting out a long sigh. "So, the other day, someone came to see me."

You raised an eyebrow, sensing that he was trying to drag this out. It couldn’t be good. "Oh my God, just tell me already. Who was it?"

Jake took a few more seconds before finally answering. “Heeseung.”

Your ex’s name was the last thing you expected to hear. “What?”

“Yeah, someone knocked, and when I opened the door, there he was, just standing there.” Jake’s slow pace was driving you insane—you just wanted him to get to the point.

“Just tell me what he wanted. Did he try to fight you again? Because I swear to God—”

“No! No, it wasn’t anything like that. He didn’t come to start anything; he just asked for a favor.” Jake nervously bit his lip, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. He clearly didn’t want to tell you what Heeseung was really after.

“Jake, just get to the fucking point. What did he ask for?”

“Okay fine, he wanted me to talk to you about maybe hearing him out again.” Jake grimaced as he revealed Heeseung's request, sensing that the silence on your end was not a good sign. “Ugh, please Y/N, say something.”

You didn’t know if you should be fuming or surprised. Maybe both. “What did you say?”

Your calm tone caught Jake off guard as he turned into the Thai restaurant you’d chosen for dinner, parking before facing you. “Okay, you can’t be mad, but I agreed.”

Your mouth opened in protest, anger filling your eyes, but he rushed on before you could interrupt. “Just listen. You know me—I wouldn’t agree to something like this, especially with him, unless I really thought he deserved it. After I listened to him, I could see how genuine he was. I know he was a dick on Monday, but he came to me desperate and genuinely sorry. He wouldn’t have approached me of all people if he wasn’t serious.I know how much he hurt you, but I also see how unhappy you are without him. This might not be the worst thing for you two. Plus, Karina’s definitely out of the picture—Heeseung looked furious talking about her and promised he wouldn’t associate with her again.”

You processed everything slowly, staring at Jake. “He hurt me so bad,” was all you could manage as you shook your head, struggling to accept what your best friend was telling you.

Jake’s eyes softened at your reaction. “I know, Y/N. He’s still a total asshole, but deep down, you know that not having him around hurts even more. I didn’t promise him anything, and I won’t ever force you to talk to him. Honestly, if I had my way, I’d keep him far away from you. But I know you, and I see how badly all this unresolved feeling is fucking with you. I don’t want that for you. So just know this is an option. It doesn’t have to be now, or next week, or even this month. But if you ever feel ready to talk to him again—especially now that it seems like you both understand what happened—he’s willing to apologize. I’ll even be there with you if you want.”

Jake was right, and you hated that. Deep down, you knew this unresolved pain would eat you alive. Heeseung had always been part of your life, and having him ripped away, even for just a couple of months, was agonizing. You didn’t know if you could just cut him out completely, so you slowly nodded. “Okay.”

Heeseung honestly had little faith that Jake would keep his promises, but he still held onto a sliver of hope. Yet, as the weeks passed with no word from you, that hope began to dwindle. After a month had gone by without any communication, he was on the verge of accepting that he had ruined the most important thing in his life. Just as he was about to let it go, fortune finally smiled on him: he spotted you outside, nervously biting your lip as you waited for his class to end. A grin spread across his face the moment your eyes met, and he walked toward you.

“Hey,” he greeted softly.

His smile made your heart race, and it was annoying to realize that he still had that effect on you after everything that had happened. “Hey, I was wondering if you were busy. I think I’m ready to talk.”

Heeseung mentally noted to give Jake the biggest thank you ever. Despite his doubts about Jake's ability to follow through, he couldn't be more grateful to be proven wrong.

“Yeah, of course. This is my last class of the day,” he said, eagerly nodding as you both walked out of the building.

“Oh great, I wasn’t sure about your schedule, so I was just hoping I got lucky and you were free.” The awkward tension between you was palpable. “Do you want to grab lunch? I can drive if you didn’t.”

“Yeah, that sounds perfect. Jay drove us today, but I’ll just text him that he doesn’t have to worry about me.” Heeseung couldn’t help the smile spreading across his face. It was amazing how much your presence lifted his spirits. You were like a ray of sunshine, and just being able to look at you felt pretty fucking incredible.

You shot him a small smile before nodding, leading him to your car. “Okay, perfect.”

The ride to the restaurant was quiet, with barely any words exchanged until you both placed your orders.

Knowing that silence would make everything feel pointless, you mustered the courage to clear your throat and initiate the conversation. “Jake told me you really wanted to talk to me again.”

Heeseung nodded without hesitation. “Yeah, I’m not going to lie, I really didn’t think he’d actually help, but I’m so glad he did. I hope you didn’t feel forced or anything—that’s the last thing I want. If you ever feel that way during this conversation, I would completely understand if you just walked away.”

You nodded, recognizing the sincerity in his words. It gave you reassurance about his intentions. “I wasn’t forced or anything, but it did take some time. Honestly, I didn’t want to hear you out again, especially since last time ended badly. But I’ve had time to think, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to do this, at least for myself, to move forward from everything.”

“I’m really glad you gave me a chance to talk to you again. Y/N, I know this might not mean much to you, but I truly want to say I’m sorry.” Heeseung sighed before continuing, “I’ve had time to reflect on everything, and I’ve realized that what I did was unfair to you and hurt you in ways I never intended. None of this was your fault, and I’m so sorry for putting you through that.”

Hearing those words felt like a wave of relief washed over your aching heart. It was as if you had been yearning to hear him acknowledge your pain, and his sincere apology felt like a crucial step toward healing. Yet, one lingering question held you back.

“Why did you do it?” you asked softly, almost afraid to voice it. You noticed Heeseung’s eyes soften at your words.

He sat in silence, contemplating your question. Why had he abandoned you during the last month of your relationship?

“I’m not sure,” he blinked, his brow furrowing in distress. “I know that’s not a good enough answer, but honestly, I don’t even think I understand it myself. I really don’t want this to sound like an excuse, but I didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late. That project consumed so much of my time, and unfortunately, that meant spending all those hours with Karina. It became a routine, and I thought it would help me finish the class with a good grade. I never stopped to consider if Karina had ulterior motives, and I’m so sorry—I never thought about how this would affect you.”

You were unsure how to process his words, but you appreciated his honesty and let him continue. “I didn’t mean to blow you off or prioritize the project, which ended up meaning prioritizing Karina over you. That was never my intention. I hope you understand that I never saw her as a replacement or thought she was better than you in any way, especially not romantically. I swear nothing happened between us until after you left for your trip. Even then, I was just so angry, and she happened to be there. She was only an outlet for my frustration, and I know that’s probably not what you want to hear, but I can’t deny that something happened. I just need you to know that aside from the physical, there was nothing else with her.”

Heeseung grimaced as he admitted all this. The weight of his actions felt unbearable, and when he saw your face—so sad, struggling to hold it together—it made him feel even worse. He hated that he was the cause of your pain.

You nodded slowly, your chest tightening as you absorbed his words and another sigh left your mouth. “That last month was so unbearable for me. It was literally hell. You have no idea how many nights I spent blaming myself, thinking I drove you to another girl. But what hurt even more was the aftermath. I’ve known you for so long, and I never realized how much you meant to my life until you were just… gone. I felt so lost without you.”

“It was the same for me. Y/N, you’ve been the love of my life since we were kids. You’ve always been my dream and literally everyone around us knows how much you’ve always meant to me. I’ve dated around and hooked up with other people but at the end of the day, I just kept coming back to you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You’re my home. That’s why I had to take this chance—to see you again, to beg you to hear me out one last time.” His voice trembled, and a tear slipped down your cheek as you felt the weight of his desperation. Your heart ached, torn between the pain of the past and the flicker of hope in his eyes.

He reached over to take your hand in his, the warmth of his familiar touch sending a jolt through you. A small, hopeful smile broke through his anxiety. “I love you, Y/N. I truly believe you’re it for me. But if you need me to let you go, I’ll do it. I’d do anything to see you happy.”

“Heeseung…” The words barely escaped your lips before tears started streaming down your cheeks. You couldn’t hold back your emotions, even in this crowded place. His confession pierced through the defenses you had built, reaching deep into the empty spaces you didn’t even know existed. You remembered all the pain he had caused, the scars still fresh, and yet, despite everything, he was still your Heeseung. Your heart ached with the undeniable truth that he was your destined other half, and you couldn’t bring yourself to let him go completely.

In that moment, amidst the whirlwind of your emotions, the right path became unmistakably clear. You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your feelings shift into something resolute. With trembling hands, you squeezed his. This wasn’t just about forgiveness; it was about embracing the possibility of healing together. “I can’t let you go, not now,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Let’s find our way back.”

No one had ever warned you how difficult it truly was to rebuild something broken, even with someone you’d known your entire life. But now, standing on the other side of that struggle, as you watched the pieces of your relationship with Heeseung slowly fall back into place, you realized that every effort had been worth it. The awkward silences, the tentative steps, and the raw vulnerability—it had all led to this unexpected peace. Months ago, you would’ve laughed if someone told you not only that you’d be back together, but that you’d be more in love with Heeseung than ever before. Yet, against all odds, here you were—more sure of him, more connected, and somehow, more in love than you ever thought possible.

It had been two weeks since that lunch, two weeks since you both decided to give things another shot. Although hesitation still hung between you, trust was slowly rebuilding, and you could feel the progress with every passing day. The real breakthrough came when you got solid proof that Karina was no longer a looming threat. It seemed that Heeseung’s rejection hit her harder than anyone expected, leading her to pack up and flee to her family’s summer home in Lake Como. Word spread quickly that she was taking a semester off to “heal” from all the so-called negative toxicity, but honestly, you couldn’t care less. And it seemed that it wasn’t just you—everyone in your circle seemed to be rejoicing the second her plane left the tarmac, collectively exhaling as though they’d been holding their breath for months. Her departure felt like the final nail in the coffin of a drama that had dragged on far too long, and for the first time in a while, you felt truly free from the chaos.

You and Heeseung had agreed to take things slow, both afraid to fuck up the fragile foundation of your newly rekindled relationship. While you often found yourself holding back more than you were used to, the fresh start was also exciting, like falling in love all over again. The honeymoon phase was in full swing, and honestly, you were soaking it up. So much so that it seemed your entire friend group—finally restored, thank God (you were sure you’d even seen Jay shed a tear when he was reunited with Sunghoon)—was playfully revolting at how inseparable you and Heeseung had become. But despite the jokes, everyone was genuinely thrilled to see you two back together. Even the soft launch on Instagram stirred enough commotion that your mom called, confused. But you didn’t care about anyone’s reactions, because for the first time in a long time, you were truly happy.

“I’m surprised your little purse dog isn’t with you,” Yujin’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts as she appeared out of nowhere, making you jump.

“What?” You shot her a confused look.

“Heeseung! He’s like your own little purse dog these days. I don’t think I’ve seen you two apart since you got back together,” she teased, giving you a smug grin before snatching your drink from your hand and taking a big swig.

You snatched it right back, rolling your eyes. “That is not true!”

But the grin on your face betrayed you—you knew exactly what she meant.

Your half-hearted attempts to deny her claims were cut short when yet another voice chimed in, startling you once again. "Nah, Yujin's right. You two are capital C clingy."

"Stop sneaking up on me!" you groaned, shaking your head at both Ryujin and Yujin. They, of course, found your irritation hilarious. Before you could protest further, Ryujin also reached over and grabbed your drink, taking a long sip without hesitation.

"Oh my God, just take it!" you exclaimed, shaking your head in disbelief. You turned to grab a fresh cup, already resigned to making yourself another drink.

"But seriously, where is Heeseung?" Ryujin asked, glancing around the packed house, her eyes scanning the crowd for your boyfriend.

Jake had thrown a party to celebrate Karina’s dramatic exit, and it seemed like everyone you knew had shown up. His place was absolutely massive so it was insane to see the entire place bursting with people, not a single corner empty.

You shrugged as you added ice to your drink. "Not sure, I saw Jay dragging him out to the pool. I think they’re playing beer pong. You guys do realize we haven’t been together every second, right?”

Yujin scoffed. "You sure about that?t At least from what I’ve been seeing I’m having a hard time believing that."

“Yeah, babe, I don’t think there’s been a single day this week you haven’t been with him,” Ryujin added. But when she noticed a slight frown tugging at your lips, she quickly backpedaled. “But that’s not a bad thing! You guys are back together, and honestly, you seem so much happier and more in love. We’re happy for you.”

Yujin nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’s cute. Almost sickeningly so. But seriously, we’re all just glad you two are happy again.”

Right on cue, you felt a familiar arm wrap around your waist from behind. You knew instantly who it was. “Aww, that’s so sweet, Yujin. Glad we have your support,” Heeseung teased, reaching out to fist-bump her.

"Were you out playing beer pong?" you asked, glancing up at Heeseung.

He nodded with a grin. "Yeah, Sunghoon and I absolutely annihilated Jay and Jake. Those two suck every single time, but they keep teaming up like they’ve got something to prove. Not that I’m complaining—it just means we keep winning. The loser had to admit the other’s dog was better, and Sunghoon had Jake practically in tears, saying Gaeul was superior to Layla. It was almost cruel. Layla’s literally upstairs, and he ran right up to apologize to her."

Ryujin snorted. "You guys are such kids. What kind of punishment even is that?"

"Hey, I’ll have you know that when it comes to Gaeul, I’d put my fucking life on the line for her!" Sunghoon appeared out of nowhere, clearly having overheard the mention of his beloved dog.

"Yeah, don’t mess with his dog. It’s, like, actually serious for him," Heeseung added, backing up his friend with a smirk.

You couldn’t help but smile. It felt so good to have everyone back together, the easy banter flowing like it always had. The boys, especially, had clearly missed each other. Things were a bit tense between Heeseung and Jake at first, but once Sunghoon and Jay rejoined the group, it felt like no time had passed at all. Of course, Heeseung wasted no time making it clear that you were off-limits now, even threatening that he’d shave Jake’s hair off if he so much as thought about crossing that line—and judging by Jake’s face, it was a threat he took seriously.

As Sunghoon passionately defended his dog, you felt Heeseung's arm tighten around your waist. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I don’t know about you, but I can think of something way better than listening to Sunghoon go on about his dog’s honor,” he whispered, his voice laced with mischief. “How about we check out one of the way-too-many bedrooms upstairs?”

The suggestion came with that familiar cheeky tone, and you didn’t need any convincing. Without a word, the two of you quietly slipped away from the group, who were still caught up in their conversation about pets. Heeseung was right—there were far too many rooms in this house, but luckily you knew exactly where to find a quiet, empty one.

Your body hadn’t even fully crossed the threshold before Heeseung captured your lips with a fervor you hadn’t felt since Hyunjin’s party. When you said that you and Heeseung were committed to taking your relationship slowly, you truly meant it. Sure, the two of you had made it to third base, but you had intentionally held back from rushing into sex, wanting to protect the delicate balance of your relationship. Yet, in that moment, it was clear that neither of you was opposed to going all the way. You both had been holding back for far too long.

Shutting the door behind you, he slammed you flat against the it as his tongue explored inside your mouth. You were panting against his lips as you reached for his clothes. It was obvious neither of you were particularly interested in taking it slow.

“God you’re so fucking hot,” Heeseung didn't hold back his groan as his hand pulled your top over your breasts and cupped one in his hand, groping it as he deepened the kiss. You scratched a hand against the nape of his neck eliciting another low groan from him while his lips trailed down from your lips down to your neck. His touches had never felt better and you were yearning to feel him closer and deeper.

While his lips worked their way down, you didn’t waste any time pulling your leather pants down, revealing the same pair of black thongs that you had been wearing the last time the two of you had sex and Heeseung groaned against your skin once he realized.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me.” You giggled at his response and quickly tugged him towards the bed, leaving behind a trail of clothes as the two of you continued to get rid of your clothes until you were left bare.

Your hands firmly gripped his shoulders once he had finally stripped and you pushed him down on the bed as you also went down on your knees. His mouth was slightly agape as his eyes twinkled at the realization of what was happening.

“I’ve missed your cock so bad,” you purred before letting a wad of spit fall from your mouth and straight on his rock-hard dick.

His eyes instantly rolled back when your hands wrapped themselves around his length and worked their way up and down, adopting a steady tempo. Your eyes never left his face as you held a determined look in your eyes, eager to please him.

“Fuck, just like that,” Heeseung barely managed to pant out as his eyes connected with yours.

You couldn’t hold back a smile. Knowing that your touches had him falling apart like this in pleasure had you growing overcome with lust. There was not a better sight than the one in front of you and you couldn’t break away from witnessing his every reaction even as you slowly started to lick his tip.

He was panting hard as he watched you lick up and down his shaft before swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip that was dripping with precum. And when you sunk down, allowing his dick to find its place in your warm tight throat, his hands went straight to the back of your head, pushing you further down and inciting you to choke on his length.

It’d been a while since you’d deep-throated anything and you felt the tears instantly prick at your eyes as you gagged around his thick cock. You concentrated hard, closing your eyes to ease your throat as you slowly started to bob your head.

Saliva escaped down the corners of your mouth as the tears were now fully escaping your eyes. The filthy sounds of you gagging filled the room along with Heeseung’s deep grunts. His hands were fully pushing your head down as he thrust up, yearning for you to take him deeper. You tried your best to swallow around his as you searched for air, but he was relentless and pushed you until you couldn’t take anymore and had to slap the sides of his thighs for respite.

“Jesus Christ, Heeseung!” You gasped for air before coughing when he finally let you go, realizing how brutal he had been treating your throat.

“Shit, sorry,” his eyes were wide as he reached for your face, pushing your sweat-drenched hair away from your face. “It’s been so long and you felt so good, I’m so sorry-”

“Shut up,” you shook your head as you pushed him back on the bed. You ignored his apologies and quickly got on top of him, ignoring the fact that you had just been brutally choking on your boyfriend’s dick.

You were already dripping wet and Heeseung’s eyes couldn’t take his eyes away from your glistening pussy hovering over his dick. His hands guided themselves to your hips and you slowly teased him as you rubbed the tip of his dick at your entrance.

“Please,” he pleaded desperately and that was all you needed to hear before you slowly sunk yourself down his length.

The two of you let out groans and you couldn’t help but heavily pant as you went lower, feeling him deeper in you. You felt so full that it felt like you could feel him all the way up your throat. Heeseung was massive and despite having loads of experience riding him, every time it felt like almost too much for you as your body felt like it was being stretched beyond its limit.

“Fuck, you’re too big,” you whimpered as you felt your body slumping over his, trying your best to get adjusted to his side.

His mouth found yours as he passionately kissed you while his hands found your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers. “You’re taking me so well princess.”

As he praised you, you found yourself slowly attempting to move your hips and before you knew it, you were moaning against his lips as you moved up and down his length. The pleasure was overwhelming and you couldn’t stop. The stretch still stung, but the pleasure that came with it was more than anything you could’ve asked for.

“Heeseung,” you moaned out loudly as his hips thrust up to meet yours, forcing you to feel him deeper.

The room was filled with your wanton moans that didn’t stop chanting his name and the sounds of his balls slapping roughly against your pussy. His grunts were getting animalistic and before you knew it, he had flipped the two of you over changing the position and taking over.

‘Oh my God!” You screeched as he moved your legs to hang over his shoulders, causing the new position to allow him to reach you deeper if that was even possible.

He relentlessly pounded against your sweet spot, “You feel so fucking good. Perfect pussy made just for me.”

His dirty talk had you whimpering and you found yourself reaching down for your clit quickly rubbing it, helping you reach your orgasm faster.

“I’m almost there don’t stop,” you instructed, and with a couple more hard thrusts, you found yourself loudly crying out as you found yourself reaching your peak.

You clung to him tightly as you rode out your orgasm and could feel him twitch inside you before also cumming closely after. He filled you to the brim with his cum as you limply laid there taking everything he gave you. Once he was finished, he slowly pulled out inciting a small whimper from you and you could feel all his cum slowly pouring out of you and down your leg.

Heeseung, seemingly just as worn out as you were, plopped right next to you before pulling you close to him, cuddling you. A huge smile formed on your face as you turned your head to face him and kiss him, someone pounded on the door.

“You two are so fucked for that! You do realize Layla’s room is right next door!”

Bonus:

It was unbelievable how fast time had flown, especially now, standing with all your closest friends in matching caps and gowns. You couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that you’d all made it through college in one piece, still tight-knit as ever. It was almost enough to bring you to tears—if you weren’t so distracted by how uncomfortable your dress had become under your gown. You kept fidgeting, trying to adjust it for a bit of relief.

“Stop wrinkling your dress!” your mother scolded, while busy straightening Jake’s tie.

“But no one’s even going to see the tie under the gown,” Jake whined, only for your mom to shoot him a stern look that silenced him immediately as she returned to perfecting his outfit.

True to her word, your mom had finally gotten Jake head to toe in one of her custom pieces (minus the cap and gown). “I don’t care if anyone sees it or not. You are not wearing one of my designs without it being flawless,” she insisted, focused on making sure everything was perfect.

You could hear the quiet snickers behind you, and without even turning around, you knew Sunghoon and Ryujin were loving every second of this. They had already survived your mother’s meticulous once-over and were now relishing in watching the rest of you squirm under her scrutiny.

"Yeah, come on Jake, stop being so fussy. You should be grateful she's even doing this for you," Heeseung chimed in, grinning. His playful jab at Jake was laced with just enough sweetness to win over your mom—or at least, that was the plan.

Your mom still hadn’t entirely forgiven Heeseung for the disaster he caused at her garden party, and her approval of your rekindled relationship was, at best, tentative. But it was clear she was slowly warming up, especially with the way Heeseung never missed a chance to flatter her.

“Alright, now you look presentable. Don’t you dare mess with it during the ceremony,” your mom finally declared, stepping back to give Jake a final once-over. She then turned her sharp gaze on the rest of you, making sure everyone else met her high standards.

You exchanged a glance with Sunghoon and Ryujin, who were both barely holding in their laughter. They clearly found your mom’s unofficial role as wardrobe enforcer far more amusing from the sidelines.

“Oh, you all look so beautiful,” your mother said, her smile softening in a way you weren’t used to. The warmth in her gaze caught you off guard, and suddenly, the stuffiness of your dress was the last thing on your mind. As your eyes met hers, the reality of the moment hit you—graduation day, surrounded by your closest friends, all of you about to step into the next chapter of your lives. You could feel the emotions welling up, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you took in the sight of everyone in their caps and gowns.

Heeseung, as if sensing your shift in mood, gently tugged your hand into his, threading your fingers together. He squeezed your hand and gave you a reassuring smile, grounding you just when you needed it most.

“Come on, let’s take a picture before we leave,” you suggested, grabbing Heeseung's hand and motioning to your friends.

Your group huddled close, arms draped over each other, laughter bubbling up as your mom snapped away on her phone. Heeseung’s arm stayed firmly around your waist, keeping you close while you smiled for the camera. The joy of the moment, the closeness of your friends, felt like the perfect snapshot of how far you had all come.

As soon as the last picture was taken, everyone started to drift toward the stadium for the commencement ceremony. You watched as the crowd began to gather under the soft glow of the setting sun. After a quick hug and goodbye to your mom, you turned to follow your friends toward the entrance gates.

Just before you could step through the gates, Heeseung gently pulled you aside, his fingers brushing your arm. He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “I couldn’t have done any of this without you. I’m proud of us.”

His words made your heart swell, emotions bubbling up in a way that almost took your breath away. You looked up at him, your smile soft and full of everything you’d been through together. “I am too,” you whispered back, a mixture of relief and joy filling your chest. “We made it.”

The air was cool, a gentle breeze lifting the corners of your graduation gown as you looked at Heeseung, remembering how uncertain things had once seemed. But now? Everything felt like it was finally falling into place. The obstacles and heartbreak had only made you both stronger.

As the sun began to set, Heeseung took your hand again, just like in the room earlier. This time, though, he brought it to his lips, brushing a light kiss across your knuckles before pulling you closer.

“I love you,” he said quietly, and it wasn’t a grand declaration—just a simple truth that felt completely genuine.

“I love you too,” you answered, your heart full.

Standing there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the future didn’t seem so intimidating anymore. It was uncertain, sure, but with Heeseung beside you, you felt ready for whatever was next.

TAGLIST: @notevenheretbh1 @leov3rse @slut4hee @llvrhee @simjungwon @lhspeachie @sakanelli-afc @rayofsunshineeee @deobitifull @iwaplant @mheretoreadff @farashawhee @skzenhalove @venfl-ifw @jaehoonii @melonvrs @enhastolemyheart @rainyjy @cha0thicpisces @love-be0m @niniissus

#enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #heeseung imagines #fic: psily

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bunnys-kisses · 3 days

Text

ferrari blood

toto wolff

cw: smut/pwp, vampire!toto, driver!reader, blood (drinking), jealousy, possessive!toto, human!reader, missionary position, intimacy

i know i'm on vacation, but this is a little thing for a server i'm in to celebrate halloween! i'll see you all again on sunday <3

toto liked you in red. while not the colours of his team, he found it brought out your complexion so beautifully that it would be a shame to deny himself your beauty. toto remembered when the colour was associated with courage and sacrifice.

but you were no sacrifice, in fact you were a willing participant. so when you dressed in red, he associated it with heat, passion, love. and toto loved you in all shades of red. except for one.

"schatzi. my little light." toto said in a calm voice as he leaned forward, "why are you wearing that ferrari t-shirt?"

you looked at toto for a moment. you could feel his hungry gaze on you, "oh yeah! i spilled some of my dinner all over my shirt and carlos was nice enough for me to borrow one of his."

toto narrowed his eyes, "carlos? where were you that he had an extra shirt lying around?"

you blinked at him, "oh, i was in his driver's room with charles." then smiled, "they invited me for some take out before we left for england tomorrow, sir." you then added, "i thought having something in my stomach wouldn't make me... pass out like last time."

it was a tradition, you'd let your vampire team principal have a bit of your blood. and you would end up more relaxed for the upcoming race. it was as simple as that. toto was dressed in a button up white shirt and dark slacks.

"i love you in red, my little light." he said as he relaxed against the couch, "but not that kind." he eyed your figure, "you never looked right in ferrari."

you stepped towards him. if he had his way, you'd be dressed in something nicer. a sharper fit that highlighted the curves he adored. something low cut that showed off your beautiful breasts and the slope of your neck. ferrari red would never be able to present you to your fullest potential, just as racing for them would not make you win the world championship.

he patted his thigh and you walked towards him. slow careful steps, less like a nervous deer and more like a self assured woman. he smirked, you were teasing him. how cute.

"i think i look just fine." you responded as you got yourself onto your lover's lap. you felt his fingers drag across your neck and you leaned into his touch lovingly.

"i would disagree." toto replied before he showed you his fangs. vampire fangs out of a movie. the first time you saw them, you got scared but now you eagerly pressed yourself further against him. he smiled a little, "i hope he didn't like this shirt." then took you by the back of the neck.

you shuddered, nipples grew hard in your bra as toto sank his teeth into your neck. you held onto his shoulders tightly. the feeling of being bit in such a way was intense. you clawed at toto's strong shoulders while he drank your blood.

you felt the nerves of the upcoming race melt from your core. and toto felt the curl of possessiveness form in his gut. you were his sweet, darling angel. his little light. you should be treated as such, not marked with the logo of ferrari.

"toto." you whimpered as you felt your heart race and toto devour more blood. you trusted toto, he had self control. it was you, his little human, that didn't. you clung onto him tightly as a bit of blood got into the shirt, staining it a deeper red.

something often happened when toto had a taste of your blood. the anxiety you felt before a race was replaced with a heated lust in your core. you squirmed against him but toto's strong grip kept you close to him. you whined a little bit and felt your core throb as he dragged his tongue across wounds and stopped the bleeding. he was sated, but you had your blood seeped into the collar of the ferrari shirt.

"see, my little light. this red is more beautiful on your skin." then made you look at him. you could see the lust in his dark eyes. he was a vampire, but also a possessive old man. if this were a horror novel you'd be the damsel in distress. but you didn't feel like you were in distress. instead you watched your lover lean back on the couch and you straddled his waist.

you ran your hands across his chest and giggled a little bit at the sight of your lover. you felt a thud in your chest, the blood missing made you a bit lightheaded but that could also be from the immense pleasure you felt racing through your core.

"toto."

he chuckled and grasped your hips, "i know, my little light. but i cannot have sex with you while you are still clothed. how are you feeling, does your head hurt?"

you shook your head, "all good!" then smiled at him.

toto smiled at him, blood stained his teeth, "excellent, i don't need my favourite driver to get sick on me." he reached for you and cupped your face the way you would a puppy.

you giggled and leaned into his touch, all cute but dopey smiles. you looked painfully cute. toto helped you off his lap and got up off the couch, he took you by the hand and led you to the bedroom. toto got the t-shirt off your pretty body as soon as he could, he wanted to see the shirt burned. he watched your wobble a little when you tried to get your jeans off before you were face first in the bed in just your underwear.

even after centuries of living, toto still found new things to love about you. he admired your figure as he took off his button up and the shirt underneath. you rolled onto your stomach and got your bra off then your panties. eventually all clothes ended up on the floor.

toto could see the bite he left you already bruising a little, and when he got onto the bed with you, he traced the marks her left. he said, "your blood tastes sweeter than any wine on earth. it pulls me in. you are an enticing woman, and you drive me crazy." he said, his cock stood at full attention, he could feel the thump of want in his body.

you felt heat in your cheeks as he pressed himself up against you. your legs wrapped around his waist. you gazed into your lover's eyes and swallowed. you heard the stories of the vampires, but yet, toto was an enticing creature. made from the night, he pulled you into his world. not only were you his racing star, you were also the woman that he cherished. even if you never let him touch a drop of your blood, he would still yearn for your warm touches across his cold soul.

his world had become so much brighter with a little warmth in it. from the love of a human. he kissed his marks on your neck before he sank his cock into you. he felt you tense up from the intrusion, but then relaxed a moment later. you accepted him wonderfully.

"you did wonderful today." he said, "both on the track and in my lap. you raced with such beauty, i don't know why you still get so anxious." his voice was tender, but his thrusts were a little harder. you whined under him and he continued to speak, "you are more beautiful than any other driver to cross the paddock. your are the sun and i am simple a creature that yearns for your light."

you thought about turning your head away from him from the intensity of his words. you whined a little when he made you look at him. you squirmed a little bit and felt the leap in your chest. no words were spoken, only your sweet noises.

"don't look away from me." he said, "i wish to see your beauty as i fuck you." he smiled at you as he continued to thrust against you. he watched your body shift from the pleasure and he thought that you looked perfect under him. this would be the racer who wins it all, and toto would spoil you in return. he knew deep down he'd eventually turn you into a vampire, but he would love to spend eternity with you. his beloved bride, his racer, his light. he kissed you once more as he held onto you hips with both hands once more. he moved against you and felt comfort in his movements. you brought a life into toto's life that had been absent since his days as a human. even the sun he could walk in now was nothing like the sun you brought into his life.

his lips found your neck once more where he carefully nipped at the soft skin, he touched the other side of your neck. he remained close to you as he sank his teeth into your neck once more. he felt the blood in his mouth and the pleasure against his nerves. paired with the sharp sounds of your want for him. you squirmed a little and he kept you pinned with his larger frame.

he always stood so tall against you like a shadow. he could be so imposing, but when you looked at him, you never felt fear. not even with the fangs and the thirst for blood. instead you happily made your boss and lover happy with healthy drinks of blood. it wasn't like you were running out of it.

it was better for him to take it from you then lose control and harm someone else, or himself. you needed your lover happy, you needed him in a clear mind to navigate you towards victory. and when he pulled his mouth away from your neck, his lips stained with blood. you pulled him in for a hot kiss, with your hands in his dark hair. he pushed into your further, his pace relentless and you felt the buzz of heat in your brain.

"look at you." toto said softly, "perfect for me." he chuckled a little as he leaned in to lick a bit of blood off your lips. why would he ever want another when he had you.

his movements continued and you arched your back a little bit from all the pleasure. you once joked that toto spent all that time as a vampire figuring out how to make a woman orgasm. he said that sometimes it took the right partner. and that was exactly what you were.

his perfect partner.

it took a long time, but now he had you. and as he felt orgasm throb in the back of his mind, he continued to fuck you. and you continued to hold onto him. the two of you kissed once more with the throb in your neck. even pressed so tightly against him.

you whined a little louder as you felt the pleasure from head to toe, you clung to your vampire lover. you said, "please, toto."

"i'll always have you." he said as he gave you the pleasure you needed. he felt you tighten around him and with a few more heavy thrusts, you came while you held onto him as tight as you could.

he shuddered at the feeling of your climax. he pulled you into another heated kiss and felt his own orgasm wrack through him. a few heavy thrusts and he finished inside of you.

after the peak of climax, you relaxed with your hands on the soft covers. you swallowed and looked up at your lover with a heated glance. you shifted a little as he pulled out and you took him by the arms and pulled him next to you in bed.

you put a leg over his hips as you held his face. even though he was older, he had remained unchanged for decades. you joked that he was an old man and he said that if you kept talking like that, he was going to show you that he was a young man in ways that counted.

"i wait for it, sir." you replied as you kissed him once more.

"how are you feeling, my little light?"

you nodded, "i'm alright, just a little bruised. have you had your fill, toto?" you held his face and smiled at him. you looked a little more tired after two feedings and one fucking.

but toto held you close and kissed you cheek, feeling the heat on your skin. your precious blood under the skin. he replied, "of course, even a drop is more than enough."

you giggled and stayed close to him on the bed.

he added, "but, my little light." he took you by the chin to look at him, "never wear that awful red again." then kissed you. <3

229 notes · View notes

lupinqs · 3 days

Text

CHAPTER FIVE ━━ Happy Halloween

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 6.8K

☆ ━ warnings: beau being a dick, vaping, dani’s still depressed as shit, like idk

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: i’m sorry this chapter is so messy and all over the place it’s lowkey my least favorite so far, but good things are coming i promise!!!!

HIS MOUTH presses against hers with an intensity that makes Dani stiffen. Beau kisses her with a hunger that she doesn’t feel, his hands cupping her face, fingers in her hair, deepening it. His lips are rough, insistent, like he’s trying to draw something out of her that she doesn’t want to give.

Dani kisses him back because she knows she should. She tries to match his urgency, his need. But it feels all wrong, like she’s wearing someone else’s skin. Her heart isn’t in the kiss, isn’t with Beau at all. It drifts to other places—another person—and she can’t shake the growing discomfort building in her chest.

Beau’s hands roam lower, sliding from her face to her waist, gripping her hips firmly as he presses closer. The position is uncomfortable in the small confines of his car, and she shifts slightly. She thinks he takes that as an invitation, because he moves closer, his mouth trailing from her lips to her neck, kissing a path down to her collarbone, closer to her chest. The top she’s wearing leaves little to the imagination there, and he seems to like that. Dani’s breath hitches, body tensing. She isn’t here. She doesn’t want this.

But Beau doesn’t pay attention to the way her body recoils. He doesn’t notice how she stiffens under his touch. He’s too focused on his own need, his mouth feverish against her skin as he starts fumbling with the button of her jeans, eager to go further.

“Beau, stop,” Dani says softly, voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t stop. His hands are moving too fast, his breath hot and uneven against her neck as he presses harder to her.

“Beau, stop,” she repeats, more forceful this time, her hands pushing at his chest.

He ignores her, his hand still tugging at her jeans, more urgent now. “You can’t just keep doing this. We haven’t—” He pulls back just enough to look at her, frustration written all over his face. “You barely even let me kiss you anymore. What’s the point of us if you’re just gonna shut down every time I try to get close?”

She slaps at his hand now, and he finally retracts it. “I said stop,” she mumbles, breath quickening.

Beau sits back in his seat, his face darkening slightly. He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “Jesus Christ, Dani. What the hell is your problem? We haven’t fucked in weeks. You won’t even touch me, and now this? What, do you not even want me anymore?” His voice grows louder, harsher with each word.

Dani stares at him, her chest tight, her hands trembling in her lap. She doesn’t have the words to explain it to him, can’t tell him how disgusted she feels with herself every time they’re together. How she feels like she’s living a lie, forcing herself into a relationship she doesn’t want, creating a life that isn’t meant to be hers. But all she can manage is a weak, “I just… I don’t feel like it, okay? Can’t you respect that?”

“Respect that?” Beau’s eyes narrow, and he scoffs, shaking his head. “How the hell am I supposed to respect that when you don’t give me anything to work with? I’ve been patient, Dani. I’ve tried to give you space. But I’m not one of your fucking Catholic saints. I have needs, too.”

Dani winces at his words, feeling the sting of guilt and shame twist in her stomach. She hates this, hates the way he makes it sound like she’s failing him by not being able to give him what he wanted. But at the same time, she hates herself more for letting it get this far—for pretending she can be someone she’s not.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “I’m sorry, okay? I just—”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Beau snaps, cutting her off. “I’ve been dealing with your bullshit for weeks now, Dani. You’re distant, you’re cold, you won’t even look me in the eyes half the time. If this is how it’s gonna be, then maybe we shouldn’t go to the Halloween party together tomorrow. Hell, maybe you shouldn’t come at all.”

Dani’s throat tightens, and she feels the hot prickle of tears burning behind her eyes. “Beau, I—”

“No.” His voice is sharp, final. “You need to figure your shit out. Because I can’t keep doing this.” He unlocks the car doors, staring at her expectantly. “Get out.”

Dani blinks, stunned, thinking she may have misheard. “What?”

“Get out of the car.” His eyes are hard, cold. “If you’re gonna be like this, then just… go. Walk home. Maybe that’ll give you time to think about what you really want.”

“Are you serious?” Dani’s snaps, looking at him in disbelief. They’re parked in some random lot, miles away from her house. It’s dark, and she has no way of getting home except by walking. She can’t even call someone to come pick her up, because her phone died a little bit ago.

“I said get out,” Beau repeats, his voice like ice.

Dani swallows hard, before scoffing, opening the passenger door. She steps out into the chilly night air, and, immediately, she wishes she brought a jacket, the small cropped shirt she’s got on not doing anything to shield the cold.

Before she can say anything else, Beau reaches over and slams the door shut from the inside. He speeds off, leaving her standing alone in the dark parking lot, the distant sound of his car’s engine fading into the night.

The silence around her is deafening. Dani stands frozen for a moment, her arms wrapped around herself as the cold wind bites at her skin. She blinks back the tears that blur her vision, the ones she desperately tried to keep in so that he couldn’t see them, her mind racing with thoughts of everything that led her to this moment.

She wants to scream. To sob. To fall apart. But there’s no one here to see it, no one to hear her.

With a deep, shuddering breath, she starts walking.

PAIGE’S HANDS lazily hold the steering wheel as she drives down the empty, dim lit street, the hum of her car’s engine and the quiet voice of Drake the only sounds to keep her company. She’s just left Thaliah’s house after a low-key night spent playing Fortnite, and she’s thankful now that she finally has her license—no more relying on her friends or her dad for rides. The freedom is nice, the kind of feeling she’s been craving for a while.

As she continues driving along the road, something flickers at the edge of her vision, pulling her from her thoughts. A figure. A lone person walking down the sidewalk. Paige furrows her brows as she drives past, the figure just barely visible under the faint glow of the streetlamp. She turns her head a little, squinting as she stares at her side mirrors. All she really sees from that view is long hair blowing in the wind. A girl. It’s late—after midnight—and what girl would be stupid enough to be walking alone at this time?

Paige’s mind runs through the possibilities, but something gnaws at her. The silhouette looked familiar, like someone she knows. Someone with a very specific walk, a hunched posture, a familiar dip of the head, long hair…

No way. No fucking way.

She’s driven past already, but the doubt lingers in her mind, tugging at her. Paige’s hands hover over the wheel, her foot still on the gas as she debates with herself. But her gut is screaming—if it had vocal chords, they would be shredded by now. Because if it’s who she thinks it is, she can’t just leave it alone. She can’t ignore it.

With a frustrated groan, Paige quickly makes a sharp U-turn to go back the way she came. The street is dead silent, save for the crunch of her tires on the pavement. As she nears the figure again, her heart rate speeds up. Please don’t let it be her. Please don’t let it be Dani.

But as she slows down, pulling up alongside the sidewalk, her breath catches in her throat. She should’ve known all along, shouldn’t have even questioned herself. Because consciously, subconsciously, in any way possible—Paige always knows Dani. She can pick her out in any crowd, so doing it on a deserted street isn’t so hard. And she’s very right, because this is Dani. Walking alone. And it’s cold as hell out, too. She’s wearing nothing but ripped jeans and a cropped t-shirt. What the fuck is she doing?

Paige slows to a stop, rolling down the passenger window. Dani immediately stiffens, her head whipping toward the car, eyes wide. Paige leans over, her voice cutting through the silence.

“Dani, what’re you doing?” she asks, her voice sharp with concern and an edge of accusation.

Dani stares at her in disbelief, her brows knitting together in surprise. “Fuck, I thought you were some old man about to kidnap me,” she mutters, wrapping her arms around herself as a gust of wind whips through the air.

Paige rolls her eyes, the tension easing from her chest just a bit. “No, I’m not gonna kidnap you,” she says flatly. “But someone else fucking might. Get in the car.”

Dani hesitates, her gaze flicking between Paige and the road ahead. Her lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, Paige thinks she might refuse. There’s a tension in Dani’s stance, a stubbornness that Paige knows all too well.

“Dani, seriously,” Paige presses, her tone firm, leaving no room for argument. “It’s freezing out. I’m not leaving you out here alone.”

Dani sighs, a puff of visible breath in the chilly air, before muttering, “Fine.” She reaches for the door handle, and with a click, the door swings open, and Dani slides into the passenger seat.

Paige immediately turns the heat up, casting a quick glance at Dani. Her arms are crossed, her shoulders hunched, and Paige can see her shivering, despite the attempt to seem unbothered. Paige’s chest tightens with concern as she wonders what the hell could’ve happened to land Dani in this situation.

For a few moments, the car is filled with an awkward silence, broken only by the sound of the heater kicking in. Paige tries to focus on the road, but her mind races with a million questions on why Dani’s out here in the first place, why she was walking all alone in the dark as a teenager girl that most certainly could not defend herself should a kidnapper find her.

“What were you doing out there?” Paige finally asks, her voice more gentle this time, though still laced with concern. “Why are you out this late by yourself?”

Dani shakes her head, her eyes fixed on the dashboard in front of her. “It’s nothing,” she mumbles, her voice flat, detached.

Paige frowns, tightening her grip on the wheel. “It’s not nothing. It’s past midnight, and you’re walking around in the cold like it’s the middle of the day. What happened?” she presses, sending a glance at her ex-best friend.

Dani stays silent for a moment, then scoffs lightly, turning to look at Paige. “When’d you get your license? I thought you couldn’t drive?”

Paige rolls her eyes, biting back her frustration. “Don’t change the subject, Dani.”

Dani shifts in her seat, clearly uncomfortable, her arms tightening around her body like she’s trying to make herself smaller. “Just… drop it, Paige,” she replies, dismissive.

Paige exhales sharply, shifting her eyes over at her again. Dani’s walls are up, higher than ever. It isn’t like her to be this closed off with Paige. Or, at least, it hadn’t been like this before… before everything went sideways between them. No matter how much she hates it, Paige supposes she should get used to it—this is their new normal, after all.

“I’m not dropping it,” Paige shoots back, keeping her voice steady. “Not when I find you walking around alone at night looking like…” She trails off, unsure how to finish that sentence without pushing too far.

Dani’s jaw clenches. “Like what?” she snaps, her eyes flashing with an edge of anger.

“Like you’re not okay,” Paige says, softer now, her eyes darting between Dani and the road. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

Dani lets out a harsh breath, her fingers digging into her arms as she stares out the window. “I’m fine, Paige. Seriously.”

Paige doesn’t buy it for a second. Not with the way Dani’s sitting there, tense and cold and distant and—no matter how much she tries to hide it—vulnerable.

“Fine? Really? Because it sure doesn’t look like it,” Paige mutters. She knows she’s walking a fine line—at this point, Paige is probably the last person Dani wants to open up to right now, and pushing her too hard could make her shut down even more. But Paige can’t just sit there and pretend like everything is okay when it clearly isn’t.

Dani shakes her head again, more forcefully this time. “I’m fine. I just—” She cuts herself off, biting her lip, like she doesn’t even believe her own words.

Paige isn’t sure what it is, but something about Dani’s demeanor—the way she’s hunched over, trying to make herself disappear—makes her feel sick. Dani’s so different from the girl Paige used to know. Something’s wrong. Something’s been wrong for months now.

“Did Beau do something?” Paige asks quietly. It’s probably not the long term issue, the reason for the girl’s whole switch up, but Paige thinks it damn well could be the reason Dani’s in this situation tonight—and the thought makes the blonde’s stomach sick.

Dani stiffens immediately at the name. That reaction tells Paige everything she needs to know.

Nonetheless, Dani’s laugh is bitter, a sharp sound that cuts through the quiet car. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”

Paige’s heart drops, her pulse quickening. “Dani…”

But Dani turns her head away, staring out the window like she can’t bear to look at Paige anymore. “Just drive me home, okay?”

Paige hesitates, her throat tight, but eventually, she nods, pressing her foot down on the gas. The tension in the car is palpable, and Paige hates it—hates the silence, hates the distance between them. But she feels like she’s exhausted all she can do to try and repair it between them, so she leaves it be, and turns up the music just slightly.

The road stretches out ahead, leading them back toward their neighborhood, toward the familiarity of home. But as the houses grow closer, Paige can’t shake the feeling that something is just deeply wrong. And this isn’t just about tonight. It isn’t just about Dani walking alone in the dark.

This is about everything that’s happened between them—everything that’s changed since Dani was sent to that camp over the summer. Since Dani had come back different. Closed off. Dani hasn’t been the same since she returned, and even though Paige doesn’t know the full story—well, doesn’t even know an ounce of if, actually—she can still feel the weight of it.

Paige glances over at Dani once more, but Dani’s back to staring out the window, her arms still wrapped tightly around herself. In spite of everything, Dani’s still shivering, and Paige knows it’s not from the cold—the heat has surrounded her car by now. It’s about everything else.

They turn down their street, the familiar houses coming into view, bathed in the soft glow of porch lights. Paige can see her house up ahead, just a few doors down from Dani’s. Normally, this is where they’d share a goodbye, a see-you-later. But nothing is normal anymore.

Paige slows as they near Dani’s house, and for a moment, she considers just pulling into her own driveway, since their houses are right next to each other. But something stops her. Even if they live right next door, this still feels different. Dani needs more from her than just a quick drop-off. Paige needs to make sure Dani knows she’s not alone, even if she can’t fix whatever’s going on.

So, she pulls into Dani’s driveway instead, parking right next to Dani’s car. Paige’s car idles for a second, the engine’s soft hum the only sound between them. Paige shifts in her seat, looking over at Dani, who still hadn’t moved.

“You’re home,” Paige says quietly, breaking the silence.

Dani finally tears her eyes away from the window and sets her eyes on Paige, her expression guarded, tired. For a second, Paige thinks Dani’s just going to get out without a word, like every other time they’ve had one of these stilted, painful interactions. But then, Dani surprises her.

Dani shifts in her seat, turning slightly so she can look at Paige more directly. Her eyes soften, just for a moment, as she holds the blonde’s gaze. “Thank you,” she says quietly, her voice low but sincere. “For picking me up.”

Paige blinks, caught off guard by the sudden change in Dani’s tone. There’s no anger, no sarcasm, no bitterness in her voice. It’s raw, earnest. And for the first time in what feels like forever, Paige sees a glimpse of the old Dani—the one who didn’t have walls up between them. The one who trusted her.

Paige nods, unable to find her voice for a second. “Yeah. Of course,” she manages to say, her heart aching at how much she misses that side of Dani. The side that isn’t buried under layers of pain and fear.

Dani lingers for a moment, her eyes searching Paige’s face, like there’s something she wants to say but can’t find the words. Then, without another word, she reaches for the door handle and steps out of the car. Paige watches as Dani walks toward her front door, her shoulders hunched against the cold, but there’s something softer in her movements now. Something less defensive.

Paige stays in the car, watching as Dani unlocks her door and steps inside, the porch light flickering off as the door clicks shut behind her. The house swallows her up, and Paige is left sitting there in the quiet, her mind racing with everything that’s just happened.

It isn’t much. A simple thank you. But it’s the first real crack in the wall Dani’s built between them, and Paige can’t help but hold on to that. Maybe it’s a start.

She sighs softly, leaning back in her seat for a moment before putting the car in reverse and pulling out of the driveway. As she makes her way back to her own house, just a few yards away, Paige can’t shake the feeling that things are far from okay between them. But for the first time in a long time, she feels like maybe there’s hope.

And for now, that’s enough.

PAIGE SITS cross-legged on Thaliah’s bed, absentmindedly picking at the hem of her shirt, while Jalen lounges next to her, scrolling through his phone. Both of them are already dressed in their costumes, though neither put in much effort. Paige went the simple route—she’s wearing an old basketball jersey with some fake blood smeared across her face, playing the part of some sort of dead or zombie hooper—she doesn’t even really know herself, if she’s honest. Jalen wears a black hoodie and he’s got a plastic scythe, calling himself the Grim Reaper. Basic, but effective.

Thaliah, on the other hand, is still in front of her vanity, meticulously applying the finishing touches to her makeup. She’s going all out, dressed as a witch, complete with dramatic eye shadow, dark lipstick, and glitter cascading along her cheekbones. Her hair is done up in some complicated updo, and Paige is sure Thaliah will be the best dressed person at the party. As usual.

Paige leans back, resting on her hands, eyes distant as she vents, her voice low but agitated. “I just don’t get it. Like, why the hell would Dani even doing out there last night? Alone? She was walking by herself literally at twelve-thirty, J. She could’ve gotten kidnapped or murdered or—or something!” Her voice wavered with frustration and disbelief, and she glances at Jalen, hoping he’ll give some sort of input.

Jalen shrugs a little, tossing his phone aside and turning toward her. His brows are furrowed in the way they are only when he’s concerned. “Yeah, it’s fuckin’ weird, P. Did you ask her what happened?”

Paige lets out a sigh, her frustration evident. “Of course I did. She just brushed it off, said it was ‘nothing’—like that’s supposed to make me feel better about it.” She throws her hands up in the air, expressing the confusion she’s feeling. “And I swear, she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. She was, like, literally freezing and she looked so sad and I’m just like—what the hell happened?”

Thaliah, still working on her eyeliner, chimes in from the vanity, not looking up but clearly listening. “Dani’s been distant for months, Paige. It’s been off ever since she got back from camp. I don’t think it’s just about last night. Something’s been wrong for a while now.”

Paige nods, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her jersey. “I know. But last night just made it so much more real. I feel like—I don’t know—I feel like something happened. Maybe it was Beau. Maybe he did something to her.”

At that, Jalen’s eyes narrow slightly. He’s always quick to jump to conclusions when it comes to Beau Hudson, a guy that he’s had problems with for years now. “You think he hurt her? I mean, he is the type.”

Paige bites her lip, her mind racing with the possibilities. “I don’t know. Maybe? It’s not like Dani would tell me, though. She doesn’t talk to me anymore.”

There’s a long pause as all three of them sit in the heavy silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. They’s all thinking the same thing—what the hell happened to Dani? The girl they all knew so well has practically disappeared, replaced by someone colder, someone more distant, someone more shallow.

Thaliah finally puts down her eyeliner, spinning around in her chair to face them. “Something’s definitely up with her. But I don’t think it’s Beau that’s the main problem. I mean, she started acting like this before she and that bitch boy got together. Paige, I know you weren’t here when it happened, but she started dating Beau after she cut J and I off,” Thaliah points out, staring at the pair of her friend son the bed expectantly. But then she sighs, shaking her head, adding, “But if she’s not talking, what are we supposed to do? Just keep watching her spiral and probably ruin her life? Like, I don’t even know.”

Paige clenches her jaw, her mind racing with the memory of Dani walking along that dark sidewalk, looking so alone, so vulnerable. “I don’t want to just sit back and do nothing.” But she knows Thaliah is right��there’s really not much they can do if Dani won’t give them the light of day.

Thaliah shakes her head a little before standing up and moving toward her bed, where Paige and Jalen sit. She grabs her vape off the nightstand and takes a long drag, blowing the smoke out in a cloud that lingers in the air before dissipating. “Look, Dani’s been different for a while, but we can’t fix it tonight. We can’t fix her tonight.”

Paige frowns, her stomach sinking at those words. Fix her. It isn’t like Dani’s broken, but she isn’t herself either. Still, she understands what Thaliah is saying. She just doesn’t like it.

Thaliah hands the vape to Paige, raising her eyebrows when Paige hesitates before taking it. “C’mon, you need to relax. It’s Halloween. We’re supposed to be having fun, not stressing out over all this. Dani’s a tomorrow problem.”

Paige rolls her eyes but accepts the vape anyway, taking a small hit and handing it back. The familiar burn fills her lungs for a moment before she exhales, watching the smoke curl up toward the ceiling. “I just hate that we don’t know what’s going on with her.”

Jalen sits up straighter, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’ll figure it out, P. We just have to give her time. Maybe tonight, she’ll show up at the party, and we can talk to her then.”

Thaliah shakes her head, leaning back against her vanity. “Doubt it. She’s been avoiding us for weeks. Even if she shows, it’ll be with Hudson and that prissy Serena girl, and it’ll end in shit like it did last time.”

Paige knows Thaliah’s probably right. They’ve gone to the same parties a couple times since school started, and each time, Dani stays closed to Beau Hudson and Serena Corren’s sides, not bothering to give any attention to Paige. The odds of her suddenly showing up and deciding to speak to them at tonight’s Halloween thing seems slim. Still, Paige can’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, Dani will surprise her.

Thaliah takes another drag from the vape before offering it back to Paige, who takes another hit, letting the smoke relax her nerves just a bit. “But seriously,” Thaliah says as she exhales, “tonight’s about us. Let’s just have fun, forget about all the drama, and worry about Dani tomorrow. It’s Halloween! We deserve a good night.”

Paige smiles faintly, nodding. Thaliah’s right. Tonight is supposed to be fun. Maybe she can take a break from worrying for one night. Maybe.

And, she thinks maybe she really actually can, because the party does turn out to be fun. It’s a lot different from the last party she went to, the one where she drank herself stupid and fought Beau Hudson. She doesn’t regret the second part… just thinks she could’ve found a better way to do it. But tonight, she’s the designated driver, meaning she’s sticking to her Sprite, laying off the alcohol. But it doesn’t really matter. She doesn’t need to drink to have fun with her friends—especially on Halloween.

The house is decked out for Halloween—fake spider webs hanging from the ceiling, carved pumpkins in every corner, and purple lights casting shadows along the walls. Most people are dressed in costumes, though a lot are half-assed like Paige and Jalen’s. Paige gets a laugh out of a guy dressed in a banana costume, dancing on a table, though.

Eventually, Paige, Jalen, and Thaliah settle in the living room, perching on the couches and standing with some of their other friends from school and basketball and such. It’s easy, it’s fun, the atmosphere is lively but not chaotic. Paige enjoys it.

That is, until out of the corner of her eye, she spots them.

Beau Hudson, Serena Corren, and the rest of that group Dani’s been hanging around with lately are clustered near the kitchen, laughing and talking amongst themselves. Paige’s stomach tightens, her eyes scanning the group for one specific person. Dani. But as she searches, she realizes with a sinking feeling that Dani isn’t here.

Paige narrows her eyes slightly, confused. Dani’s always with them—whenever Beau and his friends show up to a party, the girl’s practically glued to his side. But tonight, she’s nowhere around.

Paige glances over at Thaliah, who’s too busy chatting with some girls to notice her. So, the blonde taps Jalen on the shoulder, nodding toward Beau and his friends. “Hudson’s here,” she acknowledges.

Jalen follows her gaze, rolling his eyes. “Dick,” he mutters, his disdain for the quarterback evident. He stares at the group for a second longer before Paige watches a familiar flicker of confusion cross along his face. “Dani’s not with ‘em?”

Paige shakes her head, mind racing. It’s so weird. Ever since Dani started dating Beau, they‘be been almost inseparable, especially at parties like this. But now, Dani just… gone. And it doesn’t sit right with Paige. Especially not after what happened last night.

However, before she can dwell on it too long, nature calls. She needs to pee. Paige stands up, muttering something to Jalen about finding the bathroom. As she makes her way through the crowded house, her mind stays locked on the thought of the Callan girl. Maybe Paige is just being dramatic. Maybe Dani is here and she just hasn’t seen her and she’s worrying for no reason.

When she finally finds the hallway leading to the bathroom, she groans. There’s a line.

And the person standing at the back of the line? None other than Beau Hudson himself.

Paige’s eyes narrow as she approaches, trying to play it casual. She leans against the wall, taking Thaliah’s vape out of her pocket and bringing it to her lips. She inhales, letting the vapor fill her lungs as she stares at the back of Beau’s head. He hasn’t noticed her yet, so she waits a beat before speaking.

“Dani here?” she asks, her tone nonchalant.

Beau turns slightly, glancing over his shoulder at her. His expression is somewhere between annoyed and smug, like he can’t be bothered with her question. “Nope,” he replies shortly, turning back to face the bathroom door as if that’s the end of the conversation.

But Paige isn’t done. She presses, “How come?”

Beau scoffs, a low, bitter sound that grates on Paige’s nerves. “You’re fuckin’ nosy, Bueckers,” he mutters, barely looking at her.

Paige raises an eyebrow, not backing down. “Well, when it comes to Dani, yeah. I am.” Her voice is sharp, but controlled. She isn’t about to let him dismiss her like that.

Beau finally turns to face her fully, his expression twisted with irritation. “Why do you care, anyway? You’re not even friends anymore.”

Paige clenches her jaw, holding his gaze. “Doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

For a moment, there’s a tense silence between them, the music and chatter from the party seeming distant in comparison to the charged atmosphere in the hallway. Paige can feel her heart racing, could feel the anger bubbling under the surface.

Beau breaks the silence first, rolling his eyes as if he can’t be bothered with her anymore. “She’s probably rotting in her bedroom right now. I told her not to come.”

Paige blinks, caught off guard by the harshness in his voice. “What? Why?”

Beau shrugs, leaning casually against the wall as if what he’s saying is no big deal. Which, to him, it probably isn’t. “She’s been a bitch lately. Told her to stay home.”

Paige’s grip on the vape tightens as a rush of anger surges through her. She hates him. She hates how he talks about Dani like that, like she’s just some inconvenience instead of his girlfriend. The same girlfriend he’s never deserved.

The same girlfriend that Paige picked up in the middle of the night last night.

Her gaze slides to Beau, and before she can stop herself, the words are out of her mouth. “Did you do something to Dani last night?”

Beau’s head snaps toward her, his eyes narrowing. “What the fuck are you talking about?” His tone is defensive, a little too defensive for someone who’s supposedly innocent.

Paige doesn’t back down, her pulse quickening as the frustration bubbles to the surface. “Last night,” she repeats, her voice steady. “I found her walking home alone in the middle of the night. She wouldn’t even tell me what was going on. So I’m asking you, Beau—did you leave her out there?”

Beau’s expression shifts, his jaw tightening as he stands up straighter, his arms dropping to his sides. “Are you seriously accusing me of something?” he snaps, his voice low and threatening. “I didn’t leave her anywhere.”

Paige scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares him down. “Then why was she out there, alone? She looked like she’d been crying.”

Beau rolls his eyes, but there’s something uneasy in the way he shifts on his feet, something that makes Paige’s stomach twist. “I don’t know, Paige. Maybe she was crying because she’s a fucking mess lately.”

Paige’s eyes flash with anger. “She’s a mess? You’re her boyfriend. Aren’t you supposed to, I don’t know, give a shit?”

Beau’s lips curl into a sneer. “You don’t know anything about our relationship, so maybe you should keep your nose out of it.”

Paige takes a step closer, her voice lowering as she looks down on him ever so slightly—having those couple inches on him. “I know enough to know something’s wrong with her. She’s not herself, and you’re just standing here acting like you don’t care.”

Beau’s face hardens, and for a second, Paige thinks he might actually shove her away. They’ve had a physical fight before—what’s another one? But instead, he takes a step back, exhaling sharply as he glares at her. “You think this is my fault? You think I’m the one who’s making her act like this? You have no idea what she’s like, Bueckers. You only ever saw the good parts of her.”

Paige’s heart skips a beat, but she doesn’t flinch. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” she reports.

Beau huffs out a humorless laugh, his gaze flicking to the bathroom door as it remains stubbornly closed. “It means that she’s been a bitch lately, okay? Just like I said before. Moody as hell. I’m not her fuckin’ babysitter, like, Jesus Christ.”

Paige feels her hands clench into fists at her sides. “So you’re just going to leave her to deal with whatever’s going on by herself? Real classy, Hudson.”

Before Beau can respond, the bathroom door swings open, and a couple stumbles out, laughing drunkenly and clinging to each other. Paige shoots them a disgusted look—God only knows what they had been doing in there. Beau takes advantage of the distraction, slipping past her and heading straight for the open bathroom.

Before he disappears inside, he shoots Paige one last glance, his expression dark and full of resentment. “Stay out of it, Paige.”

The door slams shut behind him, leaving Paige standing in the hallway, her heart racing with anger and confusion. She leans against the wall, lifting Thaliah’s vape to her lips and taking another long drag, the vapor filling her lungs as she tries to calm herself down.

Stay out of it? He’s fucking stupid if he thinks that’ll stop her from doing anything.

She exhales slowly, her mind still spinning with everything that just happened. Beau’s words leave a bitter taste in her mouth, but more than that, they leave her with an even deeper sense of worry for Dani. There’s something wrong, and Beau either doesn’t know how to handle it or simply doesn’t care enough to try.

Paige closes her eyes for a moment, leaning her head back against the wall as the sound of the party buzzes around her. Halloween is Dani’s favorite holiday. Dani’s always, always loved it, always got excited about dressing up, about watching horror movies and going to parties with their friends. She and Paige have done coordinating costumes every year since forever. But this year? Dani’s sitting at home, probably miserable by the sound of things, and Paige wants to help. To do anything to help.

She takes another drag, and thinks.

DANI LAYS on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the silence in the room pressing down on her. Halloween has always been her favorite day of the year, the one she looks forward to the most. But tonight, it feels hollow. She glances around her bedroom—dimly lit, the shadows from her string lights casting a soft glow on the walls. It’s quiet, too quiet, and that’s the problem. Her friends are all probably at a party somewhere, dressed up in ridiculous costumes, laughing, drinking, having the time of their lives.

But she isn’t there. Not with Beau and Serena and everyone else she was meant to go out with tonight.

And certainly not with Paige and Thaliah and Jalen, who she’s spent every Halloween with for years.

The thought stings like an open wound. Halloween’s always been something she and Paige share—whether it was sneaking candy at sleepovers when they were younger or staying up late to watch horror movies that terrified them both, or—more recently—attending the dumbest parties and getting shit-faced. But this year, Dani’s alone, cut off from everything and everyone that once made her feel like herself.

She lets out a long sigh, sitting up in bed. She decides to be masochistic, and pulls one of her old scrapbooks from her the drawer in her bedside table. This is so stupid, she thought, thumbing through the pages. She hasn’t added to it in months, not since before everything changed. Not since her dad sent her to that place. She flips through the pages, her eyes scanning the scrawled handwriting, the cut photos, the scattered tape, reliving bits and pieces of her old life—laughing with Thaliah, playing (and losing) basketball with Jalen, sneaking out with Paige, pretending nothing could ever come between them.

Before camp. Before everything got fucked up.

Her heart clenches as she turns to an old picture tucked between the pages. It’s the two of them—her and Paige. Taken last Halloween, in matching costumes they’d thrown together at the last minute. Dani smiles faintly at the memory, the way Paige had made her laugh so hard that night she thought she’d never catch her breath. It had been one of the best nights of her life, but now it feels like a lifetime ago, like it belongs to a different version of her—a version of Dani that no longer exists.

Dani’s throat tightens as the memories overwhelmed her. She drops the scrapbook on the bed and covers her face with her hands, her shoulders trembling. I still love her. The realization hits her like a ton of bricks, the words echoing in her mind over and over. She loves Paige. She always has. But it feels so impossible now, so wrong, so tainted. After everything that’s happened, after the months apart, after the cold distance between them, after everything that’s been cemented into Dani’s head, how can they ever get back to what they used to be?

Tears blur Dani’s vision as she buries her face in her hands, her body shaking with quiet sobs. She wants to be the girl she used to be—the carefree, happy, whole version of herself that hadn’t been shattered by her father’s cruelty, by the camp, by the guilt that now consumes her every waking thought. She wants to go back to the way things were before her mind became warped and twisted by everything she‘a been forced to believe.

But she can’t. She doesn’t know how.

She cries until her chest aches, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She feels like she’s drowning, and there’s no one there to pull her out of the deep end. She’s lost so much—her friends, her sense of self, her relationship with Paige. Who is she now? She doesn’t even know anymore.

Suddenly, the sound of the doorbell echoes through the empty house, pulling Dani out of her thoughts. She wipes at her tear-streaked face, frowning as she glances at the clock on her nightstand. It’s way too late for trick-or-treaters, and no one else os home. Her dad is out for the night, and the house has been dead quiet for hours.

Confused, Dani gets up from her bed, pulling on her hoodie as she makes her way downstairs. The doorbell rings again just as she reaches the bottom of the staircase, and she hesitates for a moment before opening the door.

The porch is empty.

Dani blinks, her heart racing as she stepped outside and glances around. There was no one in sight—just the dark, empty street in front of her house. She thinks maybe it’s just some stupid Halloween prank until she looks down. There’s a small basket sitting on the porch, filled with Twix and Sour Patch Kids and Snickers—all of her favorite candies. Her breath catches in her throat as she crouches down, her fingers trembling as she picks it up.

Sitting on top of the candy is a folded note.

Dani’s heart pounds in her chest as she opens the note, her eyes scanning the familiar handwriting:

Dan,

Please know that if you ever need to talk to anyone, I am always here for you. I hope this basket makes your Halloween a little better.

P <3

Dani’s vision blurs with tears again, but this time, they aren’t necessarily tears of sadness. They’re something else—something warmer, softer. Paige left this for her. Paige went out of her way to make sure Dani wasn’t completely alone tonight.

She clutches the note to her chest, her heart aching in a way that feels both painful and comforting all at once. Paige has always been there for her, even now, even when everything is so broken, so different. Dani stands on the porch for a long moment, the cool night air brushing against her skin as she stares down at the basket.

She lets herself be a little optimistic. She thinks that maybe not everything is lost.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #uconn wbb #uconn #wbb #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #wcbb #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #hopkins p fic #take me to church #wlw

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kumkaniudaku · 2 days

Text

Stay A While (3)

Summary: Terry get's a lesson in love and shares it with Patrice.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 5,049

Part: 3 of ??

Warnings: Smut (18+)

One. Two.

"Well, James, how you been?"

"Honestly, Pop. I don't know where to start."

Wooden spoons banged and scraped across pots on the stove while Marvin scooped red beans and rice into a small ceramic bowl. He'd long shed his work coveralls for an open flannel shirt and khakis to spend some quality time with his only son.

James was their shared middle name in a long line of Richmond men dating back to their family migration from New Orleans to Fayetteville in the 50s. Marvin was a proud, honorable man. He never said a bad word about anybody, and no one had a bad word to say about him. He taught Terry how to play football, make a pot of dirty rice to perfection, and the importance of ensuring a lady never touched a doorhandle in his presence. He was the reason Terry joined the Marine Corps after a career in the NFL looked unlikely. He was the reason his boy spoke softly and carried a big stick. And he was one of only two people Terry trusted with his heart.

With two bowls and spoons on a serving tray, Marvin made his way to the kitchen table. He stopped short to get a good look at his son with blue green eyes even more captivating than Terry's. He noted the new frown lines developing on his brow and the lone grey hair sprouting in his goatee. His boy was stressed and confused. He didn't need a conversation to tell him that but welcomed it anyway.

After sliding one bowl across the table, he took a seat with his signature grunt. "Start at the top. Plenty of time still left in the day."

Terry quietly thanked his father for his generosity and avoided the question by eating the first bite of his meal. They ate in silence for several seconds until Terry took a deep breath.

"I think I've been okay. More ups than downs lately, but the downs are pretty damn low. I'm having a tough time sleeping. I'm barely working. I feel like a burden for Treece more than I feel like a man who can actually do something for her."

"Being a man is about more than what you can do."

"Yeah, but…" Terry trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's just - things weren't supposed to be this hard. I gave this country a lot of my time, and I guess I expected to say my goodbyes and roll into my next chapter. Now, my plan b needs a plan b, and I'm out of options."

"You're not out of options. You don't like askin' for help. Proud like your grandaddy."

"And you too."

Marvin chuckled and shook his head as he took another spoonful of food. "This ain't about me."

The two men shared a laugh, their voices sounding nearly identical as they bounced off the walls. He was the spitting image of his father, both in stature and moral compass.

"What do you need, James?" Marvin had grown serious again, making Terry avert his eyes to focus on his food. "I'll save you the stress of asking, but you gotta tell me what I need to offer. Is it money?"

"Not much. Enough to pay some bills until the end of the month, and I can have it back to you. I think I have a shot at this job on base if I can get through the second interview."

"How you getting back and forth? I know y'all do the Lyft and Ubom thing these days. Ridin' around with strangers like we didn't spend a whole decade tell y'all not to."

Terry laughed. "It's Uber, Pop. But, no. Treece is out for the summer, so I'm…using her car when I need it. I don't wanna take advantage of her."

"Those some of the bills you need help paying?" Marvin's question was answered with a silent head nod and eyes filled with shame. He softened his voice as he reached into his wallet for the cash he had on hand. "It's what you're supposed to do. Ain't no shame. That money is for yourself. Give me til tomorrow afternoon to have more. Five grand enough?"

"Ah, Pop, I don-"

"We didn't work as hard as we did for nothing. Plus, it's your college fund money we never withdrew. You're lucky your mother hasn't used it for renovations. She's been eyeing your sister's old room for an indoor she-shed or whatever the hell it's called."

Marvin sounded exasperated by the concept of his wife's latest project, which amused Terry. They hadn't changed since the day he left. They were just two people who had been in love since the day they met and remained committed to supporting each other through the ebbs and flows of life.

Standing from the kitchen table, Marvin shuffled around the corner to the garage entrance and returned with a ring of keys and a pile of mail. He tossed them at Terry and returned to his seat.

"What's this?"

"Keys to GMC outside. Take it. You might need to run it for a little bit and change the oil, but it works fine. The rest is your mail." Terry opened his mouth to protest and received a glare from his father in return. "I gave you my best speech about askin' for help, and here you go ruining things. Take the truck before I tell your mama."

"Alright, alright," Terry laughed as he raised his hands. "I love you, Pop."

"Love you, man. I'm proud of you." Not ones for the warm fuzzies of hugs, the two extended their arms across the table for a quick fist bump before returning to their meals. Marvin let his son eat in peace for a few moments before the corner of his lips curled in a knowing smile. "So…Patrice Ellis, huh? That little love letter you wrote in 10th grade finally coming true?"

"Pop."

"Ah, come on. It's alright to be in love, son. She's a good girl. Got good folks, too. What's the holdup?"

In love? The more Terry attempted to negotiate the gravity of the phrase within himself, the more he had to reckon with the idea that his father may not be that far off base.

Terry slowed his eating and looked at his father for help. "You think I'm in love?"

"Oh, I know you are. You didn't come back to Fayetteville for me, did you?"

"How would I know, though? How did you know?"

Marvin stopped eating to sit back in his chair. A fond smile crossed his face as he thought of his younger years.

"I knew I was in love when I wanted to show up every day and do the work to be with her. It didn't matter if she pissed me off or if we disagreed about decisions. At the end of every day, I can look at her and know I'm where I want to be forever. Plus, I still get a little fired up when she walks through the door all these years later. I ain't much to look at, but your mother is…"

Marvin let his sentence drop to whistle at the mention of his wife. Terry pretended to take exception but eventually laughed at his father's antics. He quickly relaxed into a contemplative state.

"I wanna be the best I can for her," he spoke softly. "I get…sad when she's gone for too long. Sometimes, I find myself forcing conversation just to make her look at me because the light in her eyes is the only thing keeping me grounded most days. What does that mean?"

"You don't need me to answer that, son. Go with what you know."

Before Terry could seek more advice, the mechanical roar of the garage door made Marvin nearly spring out of his seat to greet his one true love.

Outside, Patrice was nearly doubled over from laughter in the front seat.

Diedra "DeeDee" Richmond was the quintessential Southern black woman. Like a prim and proper belle, she wore her color-treated blonde hair big to match an even bigger personality. She wore heels with every outfit and never left the house without earrings, but she could also drink and cuss like a sailor.

When she offered Patrice the chance to tag along for her monthly Sister Circle meeting, there was no chance she'd miss the opportunity to ditch Terry and kick it with the upper crust of Black women.

"And, girl, Rita thinks we can't tell that she took every one of those appetizers out of the damn freezer section. At least go to the Publix bakery. Finger sandwiches ain't that expensive."

Amid their gossip session, the garage door's chime caught Dee Dee's attention, effectively ending her one-woman show in favor of giving her husband the eye. Behind him, Terry stood with a nervous smile and puppy dog eyes that he directed at Patrice.

"Marry a Richmond, child. You'll never lift a finger for the rest of your life. Lord knows I love me some him. Hey, baby!" DeeDee advised as she watched Marvin nearly float to the driver's side to open her door.

Patrice watched Marvin and DeeDee fawn over each other like teenage lovers until the faint pop of her door opening brought her back to life.

Terry stood in the gap with his hand out to offer assistance. She accepted without protest, letting him gently pull her from the passenger side with her bags in tow and close the door behind her.

"I missed you."

Terry's admission came in a sweet voice as he dipped his head to place two chaste kisses on Patrice's lips. Only the knowledge of his parents 10 feet away kept her from turning an innocent display of affection into something vulgar.

Patrice chased his lips once he pulled away, earning a deep chuckle that vibrated her chest.

"We kissing in front of the parents now?"

"Too much," he asked, suddenly embarrassed.

She used her thumb to wipe lip gloss from his bottom lip before rising to her tip toes to kiss his nose. "No. You're perfect."

Dee Dee and Marvin watched the young couple giggle at nothing in particular with broad smiles and full hearts.

"Treece, when's the last time you had some of my red beans and rice?"

Marvin's question made both of them jump like children caught in the act with the realization that they weren't alone.

"Way too long," Patrice answered, her stomach almost growling at the mention.

"Then have dinner with us. We'd love to have you."

Patrice looked toward Terry for confirmation, making Dee Dee cackle as she started up the stairs into her home. "Child, forget him. Terrence don't run nothing 'round here! Come get this food."

Terry's eyes grew wide at his mother's dismissal while Patrice dissolved into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at his expense on her way into the house.

"Oh, that's funny," he asked, following her lead. "That's the last time I let y'all hang out unsupervised."

Three extra hours at Terry's parents' house wasn't enough for the tandem to abandon their new night routine.

Patrice stood at her bathroom sink, scrubbing the day from her face while Terry made himself comfortable on her closed toilet lid. Sometimes, he read something from Patrice's bookshelf, both preferring to simply exist in the same room. Other times, he watched baseball on his phone and attempted to provide color commentary despite Patrice not showing interest. This time, though, he sat with relaxed shoulders and low eyes while she moved through her beauty routine.

Something about the sleepytime body wash had him laser-focused on how her legs looked a mile long beneath her nightshirt, oiled to perfection and glistening under the warm vanity lights. He wanted to reach out and touch her. Maybe pull her closer by her thighs and whisper every single nasty thought on his mind below her navel until she promised never to leave his side.

But, he shook his inner man loose and leaned forward to re-engage with her as she called his name.

"You know you should use a gentle exfoliant every once in a while. It'll help your breakouts. Use some of my sunscreen, too. It's dangerous for you to let the sun hit your face with no protection."

Blah, blah, blah. Everything she said sounded like a chorus of 1000 angels to him. She could've revealed the cure to cancer, and he would be too lovestruck to notice.

Knowing his restraint was dwindling, he stood abruptly and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn as she added moisturizer to her face.

Patrice watched him take up space behind her through the mirror, shifting so he could leave something to remember him by on her shoulder and neck.

"Good night," he spoke between kisses, the words muffled against her skin.

"Already? It's not that late, is it?"

"I promised Corey I'd help him with football practice at Francis tomorrow morning."

"He'll run you ragged if you don't speak up."

"I'll speak up. I promise."

Using what little space she had, Patrice turned to rest her backside on the counter and face Terry. She used her index finger to hook his gold herringbone chain and bring him down for a kiss. Or kisses. It'd been so long since they could have each other in this way. Time and experience, both together and separately, had them maneuvering like professionals. Each kiss was teasing and sensual in equal measure. A tangible mastery of retreating and aggression made the pursuit of one another worth the wait.

They'd lost track of their exhibition until Terry's phone buzzing against the toilet seat jolted them back into reality.

Patrice flattened her palms against his chest to create some separation and end what would surely turn into blurred lines if they weren't careful. "Good night, TJ. Grab that exfoliant out of my shower before you leave. It's in the caddie."

Terry took the gentle redirection in stride, smiling at her through the mirror before turning to do as she had asked. Patrice used what little focus she could muster to secure her headscarf to her head, desperate to extend her box braids for one more week.

"What's this?"

"What's what?" She didn't bother to look away from her task until the low hum of her vibrator caught her attention. She whipped her body around, too stunned to reach for the bright pink toy that had Terry smirking as he examined its buttons. "That is my personal property for personal and private use."

"When's the last time you used it?"

"It's been a while. A month or so." Mostly true. She couldn't say she hadn't thought about it more recently.

"Since I've been here?"

She shrugged. "Kinda hard to get comfortable when there's a person on the other side of the wall."

The mere sound of the only thing to touch her in two years made the hair on her arms stand at attention. Her eyes darted between the toy and Terry, who made himself familiar with each speed and pattern, cycling through dirty thoughts and intrigue as he held the device against his arm to get a feel for the intensity,

Setting one? Bearable. A softball. Setting three? Maybe she'd call out his name from the pleasure? Setting seven? Surely, she'd hang on to him like a wet t-shirt on a Playboy model while she rode the crest of her orgasm.

The possibilities excited him to no end. He needed to test each and every theory.

In two clicks, he returned the toy to its original setting and then off completely, holding it in one hand while taking slow steps to close the gap between him and the only person on his mind.

She shifted her weight nervously as he approached, unsure how to respond until he towered over her with a look she knew all too well.

Desire.

Their senses were heightened. Everything felt surreal, almost as if one misstep could send them flying through a portal back to a more disappointing reality.

Terry could smell the faint hint of mint on Patrice's breath before dipping his head to nip at her bottom lip with his teeth. She responded like he knew she would by making him work for his prize. Patrice never let him intimidate her. Not for their first time together all those years ago, certainly not now.

He chuckled before leaning in again, this time leaving a trail of short kisses from her jaw to her clavicle. He inhaled deeply, breathing in vanilla and the subtle spice of his cologne from moments earlier.

Suddenly, Patrice felt weightless. Her feet dangled briefly and without warning as Terry took her from standing to sitting on the cold, hard counter before she could protest.

Patrice fought for stability, using the peaks and valleys across the expanse of his muscled arms as her anchor in the dizzying experience that was his affection. Her lips parted to draw in sharp breaths and release airy sighs of approval in a feeble attempt to remain present. At the same time, he kissed his appreciation wherever his lips saw fit. Her legs acted under their own power to spread wider and make room for whatever came next.

Her hands left a trail of tingles as she dragged them from his arms to the back of his head, down the sides of his face, over his tank top, between his pecs, and, finally, into the waistband of his shorts.

Surprised by her touch, he lurched forward to grab her wrist. "Not this time," he whispered, unsure he meant what he was saying.

Patrice nodded in understanding, earning a sloppy kiss for her obedience.

There was no discerning where his mouth ended, and hers began. They were on one accord, hungrily tasting, exploring, and consuming each other without holding back.

Then, the low hum returned. This time, it was closer than Patrice remembered.

Cold silicone soon caressed her inner thigh. A low whimper escaped past her lips as she made eye contact with Terry. He leaned close enough to speak against her mouth.

"You trust me?"

"Mhmm," she answered, fighting to keep her eyes open as he moved further up her leg.

"Let me take care of you, then. Take these off for me."

Trembling fingers latched onto her boyshorts, pushing them to mid-thigh for Terry to take care of the rest. As quickly as he was gone, he'd returned for another taste of her tongue. Languid and unhurried, he used the time to relax her while slowly inching the vibrator to her center.

Initial contact made her hips buck forward, and her head softly hit the mirror behind her. Terry chased her with sloppy kisses at the base of her neck.

The slow and steady setting was enough to get her wet and sticky. Terry'd be lying if he said the thought alone didn't have him wanting to renege on his early statement and dive in with reckless abandon. But, he remained steadfast in his pursuit of her pleasure.

Once the initial shock had worn off, Patrice ground her hips slowly, making small circles while the vibration worked to settle her nerves. Terry took a break from leaving praises in the form of kisses on her throat to smile at his girl.

"You're beautiful. You know that?"

She gripped his chin and pulled him closer for a fiery kiss that he let her lead. "Yeah. But, I love to hear you say it."

"Good," he answered, grinning at her confidence as he upped the intensity on her vibrator. Her eyes clamped shut as her entire body tensed. "Stay with me."

A deep, steadying breath turned into a silent scream as Patrice gave in to the natural urge to hold her breath. Terry used his free hand to sneak up her tank top and grope one breast while pressing his lips to her ear.

"Breathe, baby. In and out." He modeled the behavior until she found the strength to match his tempo. "There you go. You feel good?"

"Yes, yes," she whisper-chanted to the ceiling, her head thrown back in unimaginable euphoria.

"I want you to feel this good every day. You deserve it, right?"

A twisting, turning feeling at the pit of her stomach forced her to draw in a deep breath to steady herself. Her answer came in a soft moan. "Right."

"Damn right." Pressing his forehead to hers, he zeroed in on each of her features twisted in unthinkable pleasure.

She kept her mouth open to sigh and moan as she saw fit. Her nostrils flared in a rhythm as she tried to force herself to breathe through every peak and valley of the moment. Her brows were knitted, and her eyes closed as if she were too afraid to look at him. He wondered what she was thinking.

Did she want him inside of her as much as he wanted the same for himself? Was she yearning for more pressure? Could she feel how much he loved her?

"Don't get quiet on me. I want everything. Let 'em hear you. You need more?"

A quick glance down helped him reposition the vibrator on her already sensitive bud, earning a guttural curse as appreciation for his good deed.

"Fuck! Don't move. Please don't move."

Terry obliged for the moment, too entranced by his view of her flower on full display for his viewing pleasure. Glistening. Wet. Beautiful. Appetizing like nothing he'd ever seen before. He pulled the toy away and replaced its presence with his thumb. Slow circles and firm pressure made her want to close her legs to escape the overwhelming stimulation, but her attempt was futile. She was at his mercy.

"Damn," he whispered to himself, enamored by the way her body reacted to his touch.

Every revolution around her clit brought with it more wetness at her entrance and indentations in his arms from her nails gripping for dear life.

It wasn't enough to touch her. He needed to taste.

Using his middle and ring fingers, he teased his introduction with gentle brushes against her inner lips. She keened for more against his mouth as she held his face close. He granted her wish and pushed into her slowly, immediately feeling her warmth envelop his long digits.

Their mouths hung open, breaths being traded between the two as he set a slow pace. Not enough to bring forth a release. Just enough for Terry to get what he came for.

Removing his fingers left him with a coating of clear arousal nearly dripping to his knuckles. Patrice watched him as he smirked at the sight, examining it like a jeweler appraising precious diamonds.

When he'd seen enough, he put both fingers into his mouth and closed his eyes to savor the taste. Patrice's mouth hung open as if waiting for her turn to experience the wonders of her juices.

Had she closed her eyes for even a second, she would have missed Terry extending his tongue from his mouth to allow a mixture of his saliva and her essence the chance to slide from his tongue in anticipation of a new host.

Something profound and hungry within her made her lean her head back and hold her tongue out to receive all that he had to give. It excited her, delighted her, and aroused her like never before.

Like a lewd work of art, spit connected their tongues in what would otherwise be seen as an infraction among more proper circles. But fuckin' wasn't proper, and all forms of affection were welcomed in their home.

Almost immediately, Terry rushed to reward her with a wild and frenzied kiss that nearly surprised him.

Primal. Carnal. Intense. Fucking disgusting. He loved every minute of it.

The race was on. Terry kept their lips connected as he returned the vibrator to her clit, dialing up the settings to a level below their max.

Patrice's moans and his couldn't be distinguished from one another. Her hips bucked wildly. Her fingernails left marks in their wake as they scratched at his arms and back. Her body twitched and seized in anticipation of the inevitable.

"Oh my - fuck!" Satisfied tears slid from the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks to her man's awaiting lips. "Terrence!"

Terry remained locked in. A man possessed. A one-track mind focused on nothing other than completing the mission.

The first stage of her orgasm came without a warning. Heat washed over her as if she'd stepped outside at high noon, making her skin almost unbearable to live in. Her toes curled, her voice caught in her throat despite the intense desire to release a scream from the depths of her soul into the atmosphere.

She thanked Terry and God in Heaven for blessing her with the opportunity to touch the moon and the stars without ever leaving her home. Terry used his free hand to grip and massage her thighs, knowing that the best was yet to come.

Patrice's voice began to climb as the main event approached. Shallow breaths gave way to loud gasps for air, which came rapidly while she did the same. She was suspended in a beautiful bliss and already sad about the prospect of coming down.

Her lover reveled in the opportunity to see her unraveling at the seams.

"I'll always come back to you, beautiful. No matter what, okay? Look at me." His request earned intense focus from Patrice under hooded eyes. "You're so pretty. Say it back to me. Tell me you're pretty."

"I'm so pretty!" Impending release sent all her words out in one breathless sentence.

He smiled at her compliance. "I know you're close. Hold my hand."

Her fingers scrambled against the counter, filling the spaces between his fingers and gripping with enough force to turn her knuckles a lighter shade of brown.

"That's my girl. I love you," was all he could manage before Patrice let out something akin to a squeal, turning his declaration into background fodder.

Sensitive, overstimulated, and completely spent, the after-effects of her release had her panting to recover. Her ears rang with a heady feeling that could only be compared to a few puffs of homegrown bud.

Terry held her through it all, propping her up while her body sagged against him for stability. He put aside the vibrator to run his palms up and down her legs while he showered her temple with whispered praises and sweet kisses.

He waited until her breathing was even before gingerly pressing his forehead to hers. "You good?"

His smirk was incredibly smug. He was proud of himself, and for good reason. She was open to giving credit where credit was due.

"You can never leave this house without me again. I hope you're happy."

"That's the whole point. My granny taught me some things during them summers down in New Orleans, you know?"

"Oh, so this is some magic shit?"

"Family business, baby. Gotta have the last name to find out." A playful glint in his eyes and a squeeze to her waist made Patrice's stomach feel butterflies that she thought would never return. Terry tapped her nose with his index finger and stepped back. "Stay put. I'll clean you up."

Patrice scoffed. Stay put. As if she could go anywhere. As if she wanted to go anywhere.

Like the perfect gentleman, Terry was tender with his care. A warm towel to soothe sore muscles and ensure a thorough cleanup was mandatory. The extra loving was complimentary for only his favorite lady.

"Stay with me tonight," Patrice requested as he slid her panties back up her legs.

He shook his head and smiled while prompting her to lift her hips. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Treecey."

"I just wanna be next to you. Nothing more."

Terry regarded her doe-eyed plea with a small smile as he helped her off the counter. He pulled her into an embrace, fiending for one more kiss. She obliged happily until he'd had his fill.

His hands slid from her sides to her ass for a generous squeeze before answering.

"Okay. Whatever you want. Let me handle something real quick, and then I'll meet you there."

Patrice accepted her victory with a silly happy dance before turning to make enough room in her bed for an extra person. Terry sent her on her way with a light tap to her ass, amused by how something as simple as sleeping next to each other was exciting for her.

Once she was safely out of the bathroom with the door shut behind her, he finally found time to take a deep breath and compose himself. The actual test of his strength was in the next room, and he couldn't risk the trust he'd worked so hard to build.

After adjusting his shorts, he picked up his phone and sat on the toilet lid, hoping that watching dog videos or Nationals highlights would clear his mind.

He had every intention of opening the web browser on his phone until he noticed a series of messages from an old friend.

From: McBride

You check your mail?

Trial against chief starts in two weeks. Gonna need you to testify to take him down

Know you said you weren’t coming back

Do it for Mike

---

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @deja-r

#terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #rebel ridge #aaron pierre

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drefear · 3 days

Text

Written in Blood

Summary: you're just a girl from the village, a place that worships an infamous vampire for his immortality, and one night a year, he hosts a big party in his castle. You finally got an invite, and unlike everyone else, you're less than excited.

TW: blood, drinking, unwanted advances, sex, p in v, loss of virginity, blood drinking.

Glasses of champagne clinked as you straightened your shoulders, nervous and gulping heavily. The music would have lulled you and made you relax in any other scenario, but you were in the vampire castle tonight and the idea of not knowing who could try to drink your blood was making you anxious. Ballgowns swished and swayed, but you stayed glued to the wall, a flower unmoving among a field of breezy flora. All the girls in the village were so excited to be invited, the one night a year that the Lord of the Vampires invited any humans into his mansion, and you were finally of age to be invited. Everyone in the village that was of age received an invitation personally signed with his name and theirs, and when you went to the market for your family a month ago, you saw all of the girls fawning over the extravagant letter with their names in calligraphy and signed in heavy, black ink. You only felt your stomach become filled with rocks, seeing your name in his handwriting and thinking that your blood would be next.

You snapped back into the present when you watched the townspeople dance and laugh, eating their fill and making conversation like you all weren’t inside of the abode of the monster who murdered tens of your every year. The pins in your hair made your skull ache, but your mother was determined to make you look like a porcelain doll. She sent you in a large dress that was almost as puffy as a pastry, but you insisted on black. You wouldn’t wear one of those frilly pink or blue gowns that you saw in the windows of boutiques, you wanted something that matched the dreadful feeling in your chest. You wanted everyone to know how you felt.

Vampires and humans mingled, but you stayed to yourself and refused to dance with everyone who asked so far. Glancing upwards towards the massive crystal chandelier in the center of the room, surrounded by smaller ones, you noticed a balcony where someone stood in all black as well, watching the party from above. Your arms folded over your chest and you thought how no one else here was dressed in all black as well, not a single person except you and this stranger. His eyes caught yours and your gasp fell in your throat, choking out as a cough.

His bright red eyes stared into yours, you could see it all the way from the corner of the ballroom where you stood, and you instinctively took a step backwards. You blinked a few times and he was gone from where he stood, now making you look around frantically and gasp once more.

Your name made you jump until you recognized a boy you grew up with in your school. His hand was outstretched to yours and his smile was bright as he wore an all blue suit with navy embellishments. You chewed the inside of your cheek and pinched at the meat of your hand as you calmly shook your head and curtsied, but he stepped closer.

“I’ve seen you standing here all night, come have one try around the dancefloor with me and then you can retreat back into your shell.” He encouraged, but those red eyes were stuck to the back of your eyelids and you shook your head once more. He wasn’t leaving and you furrowed your brow in frustration. Truth be told, you just wanted to leave and now you were being haunted by both that terrifying gaze and this insolent boy you knew. “It’d be a shame if that dress went to waste, you should show it off. I know how much your mother worked on it, she was in the tailor buying fabric every week for the last month.” He joked and you politely smiled. “And we should get acquainted, since your father and mine have discussed an arrangement of marriage.” He answered and you fell silent, shock coursing through your veins. “You didn’t know? Well, we both have competing businesses and it seems that our parents think combining our businesses would be beneficial.” His answer made you feel hollow until the band stopped and a gasp fell over the crowd.

Turning your head, you saw the man dressed in all black standing at the center of the french doors that led to the ballroom, at the top of a staircase. He looked like royalty, which is also how he was treated among your town and surrounding towns that worshiped him for his immortality. No matter how many he killed with his bloodthirst, everyone still prayed to be like him, but not you. You just wanted to live in peace and support yourself, alone and secluded, but now you were either about to be tethered to this dog of a human or die from being sucked dry by a vampire.

“Ladies, gentlemen, all of those here.” He said in a booming voice, his words tinged with an accent of some sort that you didn't recognize. “Welcome to my home. Eat, drink, dance, have a good time, and don’t forget to indulge in your wildest, darkest fantasies. Being here is rare, and you should live like you may die tomorrow.” His words left you feeling eerie and squeamish, while everyone else cheered for his ideas. You just stared at the ground before you looked up and saw him staring at you once more. With widened eyes, you couldn’t look away.

“I’d like to have my first dance in over a hundred years.” He spoke and began descending down the stairs as you back up, his eyes never leaving yours and as he moved inward on the crowd of people and vampires, everyone looked around to see who he was looking at. All eyes finally fell on you and you moved backward once more, bumping into a table of food and staying frozen there as he came closer. “It’s not every year that two people are dressed to match without ever meeting, don’t you think?” He said as he moved to stand in front of you, only a foot of space separating you both now. His hand reached out to ask for a dance and you felt like you may pass out from holding your breath, but he just smiled. “You can refuse if you’d like to not dance. But I’d love to make you feel a bit more welcome in my home, and a dance may be nice.” You looked between his face and his hand before realizing that he could take the soul out of your body with one bite, and you agreed. Stepping forward, you curtsied and he bowed before the musicians resumed playing their delicate music and you both moved around the center of an empty dance floor. You looked out to everyone as you danced in tandem, your bodies moving in sync to the orchestra. “You don’t have to be afraid.” He whispered into your ear, making your body tense for a moment and stepping on his foot, which then made him smile. “I’m not going to kill you, if that’s what you’re so nervous about.”

He interrupted the conversation as he took you into his arms and hauled you higher than him into the air, a nice trick to the viewers that made everyone watching clap and cheer. His smile was dazzling and you tried not to get too distracted by his entertaining ways.

“And the other vampires here?” You whispered and he looked around at the other cold faces, empty and hollow in the cheeks as he smirked. “Well, I can’t control others, but I’m sure that after I killed a vampire a few decades ago for drinking from another without their consent, that they’d hesitate before doing it once more in my presence.” He concluded and you were thoughtful now, reviewing each of his words like you were studying the sentence.

“You only feed on people who agree…?”

“Yes, of course.” He answered and he spun you into a twirl, dipping you before his face was suddenly mere inches from yours. The song ended and he smiled as he pulled you upwards once more. As you both stared at each other, the crowd became wild with enthusiasm and hollered in your beautiful dance. You looked down from the overwhelming feeling of a million eyes on you and he looked around before speaking again. “Will you let me take you somewhere private where you can take a break?”

Without a second thought, you agreed and he pulled your hand to drag you through the crowd.

You both exited those french doors as many people filled the dance floor once more and you looked at them before rushing forward to get away from all of the excitement. He led you to another staircase and to the doors on the left of it at the top. Once you were both inside, you recognized the rich red fabrics and four-poster bed as his master bedroom.

His bedroom!!!

Your mind began to panic. Alone, with a vampire in his bedroom. A million and one things could happen and none of them ended with your life in your hands anymore.

“Your blood is running quite high, but I hope you know that I won’t touch you.” He spoke in a deep voice once more, and you turned to see him.

His face was angular, jaw sharp and cheeks carved to be perfectly symmetrical as you followed his broad nose to his piercing red eyes, a trait no other vampire had. He was so big compared to any other person, standing a foot taller than you and back wide enough to shield you from the entirety of the outside world. If he wanted you, whether it be your blood or your virtue, there was nothing you could do to stop him. The realization made your throat tight and your body shiver in fear, but his words echoed once more and you tried to relax. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you a glass of champagne.” You nodded and sat on the soft, velvet chaise near his bed. He handed you the crystal glass and sat across from you, with a wine glass filled with a thick, red liquid you all but gagged at. He smirked at your reaction and took a sip.

He was nice to look at, but he was also the most deadly creature in all the world and you refused to let that slip your memory no matter how many gentle caresses you felt in that dance or how nice of a smile he gleamed. He was a monster.

“You don’t want to be here, do you?”

“No.” You answered honestly, and stared at the champagne in your hands.

“Why are you here then?”

“Because I thought you may take offense to me refusing your invitation and come to kill me.” He roared in laughter at your idea and his shoulder shook with hilarity, but you frowned deeper.

“That town has surely cooked up many stories of my ways, hmm?” He looked back towards you and sighed, swishing around the glass. “I haven’t killed anyone unwillingly in three hundred years, and I’ve only lived for three hundred and fifty.”He clarified, “Does that make you feel better?”

You nodded, before sipping your champagne once more and leaning back against the chaise.

“Why black?” He asked and you could see his eyes narrow.

You were silent for a moment, wording how you might answer before speaking to him. “I don’t like colors, especially bright ones. I like things that are easy to look at, and bright colors make me want to squint. Black is… soothing, like a rainy day or the night sky.” You answered him with truth and sincerity, and he nodded.

“You aren’t like those eager ones down there, in their ruffle pink dresses that look like fairytales, you live in the real world, with all of its disappointments and hardship.” He watched you as he spoke and you did the same, staring back with a curt, single nod. He sipped his glass again and you felt your dinner lurch in your stomach before you pushed it back. “It’s cow blood.” He announced and you stopped for a second.

“It… is?”

“Yes. Human blood can be… dirty. I prefer to make sure the person is not unclean, morally and healthwise. Usually, when someone offers to be my meal, they come and stay with me for a month. I feed them lavishly all healthy, delicious foods, help them be properly rested and live a balanced life before even tasting their blood, and often it’s still not enough. Then, when I am done feeding, I simply have another vampire turn them immortal and they leave.” He shrugged and you were so lost.

“Where did those horror stories about you come from?” You asked and he became still, thinning deeply as upset etched into his face. “You don’t need to tell me-”

“When I was first turned into a vampire, I was the first of my kind. My strength and abilities matched nothing of this world… So, I became hungry… for vengeance and power. I tore through many cities, entire countries, like a man from Hell, but many times I cried about the lives I cost the world. I then found a way to turn others immortal, like myself, and the first time I watched them go through the same insane blood thirst I did, but I trained them to control it and only drink to live. Food is still delicious, sleep is less but still nice, and life would be the same for everyone, even if they needed slightly different necessities. No human would be harmed for their mere pleasure, or I would find them and kill them myself.” The way he seemed, so serious about it, made you shiver with the vision in your mind of him ripping a head off of a body.

“Is that how you kill a vampire? Removing their head?”

“Isn’t that how you’d kill anything?” He smirked and you blushed at your own blunder, thinking maybe you’d drank too much champagne and putting the glass down on the ornate little table in between you both. His smile made you stare for a moment before you looked around at the room. “Am I too brazen to say that I want your eyes back on mine?” He asked and you snapped your gaze back to his, startled by his forwardness.

“I am just a bit surprised.”

“I’ve learned in my… few hundred years, that being direct is the best way to achieve a goal and get what you desire.” He answered and you paused, processing his words before taking his advice and being direct as well.

“And you desire my gaze?” You asked and he seemed to become more intense in his stare.

“Mi amor, I’ve been craving your gaze since you stepped into my home.” He admitted and you held back your gasp as you bit your lip to hold back any embarrassing reaction you may have had. “I knew you’d be my weakness the second I saw you, a black dahlia in a sea of sunflowers and roses.” His metaphor made your heart race and you watched as he stood up and circled your chaise, like a shark around a boat. “You are breathtaking, and yet blind to every admirer's attention, so I had to make myself known… and try my best to make you mine, at least for a night.” His words set fire to your skin and made your mind hazy from the smoke, your mouth suddenly dry. He stood in front of you and kneeled down before reaching for your hand, which you gave to him and he leaned closer. He smelled of spices and rust, and you were entranced.

“I never thought I’d see the Lord of all Vampires kneeling for me.” You whispered as his face moved closer and closer until his breath fanned across your cheeks and warmed your lips.

“You are the only creature I’ve seen that deserved my worship.” His words felt like a secret that you guarded with your heart, something you wished you could scream from the top of his towers and brandish on your body for everyone to read. “May I?” He asked and you answered by closing the distance. His lips were plush and p[lump, like cold water against the warm sand, and they stole your breath with how experienced they seemed to be. As the seconds went by, you moved in a rhythm, ignorant to anything around either of you and he moved to bend over you and cup your face, now above you on the chaise and licking delicately at your lips, which made you quiver in new ways.

As the heat between you two rose, so did the escalation of your embrace. His arms quickly wrapped around you and he moved to lay next to you as he pulled at the ties of the corset on your dress, the sleeve slipping as he frustratedly pulled the strings, before finally ripping the corset in half and leaving your topless. You pulled away, shocked, and covered your breasts before he drank you in for a moment. His brash action made you both nervous of his incredible strength, and excited that those same hands wanted to pleasure you. It was like you were a flimsy doll in his care, and he wanted to cherise you despite how fragile you were and how easily he could tear you limb from limb. He dragged a finger over the hands covering yourself before he gently pulled them away, which you willingly obliged, and he instantly pressed his forehead to your skin, breathing in your scent before wrapping his pink lips around your nipple and sucking experimentally. You jerked in response and gasped, shaking a little from the pleasure.

His eyes watched you as you moaned and you felt something sharp nibble into your skin before you saw his fangs poking through a bit. This made everything even more enjoyable, the bits of danger he exuded. As you moved to sit in his lap, he kept licking andsucking at your chest until dark bruises littered your skin in a cacophony of maps. As you let him continue his claim over your bodice, his hand tugged at the uncomfortable material that made up your skirt and you pushed his chest away as he looked at you with confusion. You stood before the chair and carefully removed the skirt of your gown, his eyes never leaving your exposed skin. As he watched you shimmy it off, his red gaze stared at the blossom of your hips from your waist and his entire being seemed like a man starved. You made no movement for a moment until his eyes found yours once more and you felt the pull of his stare.

His hands gripped your waist as you moved back to him and he lifted you on top of him like you weighed nothing, before pulling his own clothing off in a sequence of rushed motions. As cloth and expensive fabric littered the floor, you both sat with nothing on for a second before smashing your lips into each other. The depth of his kiss was sharp and dizzying as you tried to grip reality, but his body could swallow you whole and your shadow with it.

He pulled you into his arms and stood to carrying you over to his bed and as you fell gently into the soft, rich feeling of his blankets, the glow of candles lit up the muscles lining his body, He was like a statute, sculpted and formed with definition between ever different curvature in his skin. From his neck, to his shoulders, to his chest and abdomen, it was all as if kissed by Aphriodite herself and blessed to be man’s greatest temptation.

Or in this case, your greatest temptation. How damned your soul would be if you gave your virtue to a man sworn to go to Hell, who has feasted on the flesh and blood of mankind, and oh, how much you didn’t care.

As your eyes trailed around his body, he chuckled and grasped your ankles, before tugging you closer. “Are you sure about this? You look as if you’re a kitten in a Lion’s Den.” He spoke playfully and you returned the favor by covering yourself slightly and shrugging a shoulder.

“If I did, I think you may be disappointed, as you seem quite…” your eyes trailed down between his legs and he followed your gaze, then looking back at you as you smiled, “enthused.”

“I’m more than enthused. I haven’t even felt you inside yet, and I’m ready to give my soul to ravish you for eternity.” He concluded before he mounted the bed and hovered over you. “But I will ask again… Are you sure? Vampires can tend to become thirsty while in the throes of passion.”

“Are you saying that you might bite me?” You asked as you placed your hands on his shoulders, massaging the muscle there, which made you even more excited.

“Yes.”

“Will it kill me?”

“No, of course not.” He shook his head, as if laughing at a joke, “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you were to die because of me.” he spoke softly and you nodded.

“Then do as you please with me, as long as you do not stop once you start.” You answered and he let out a tense breath of relief as he grabbed your hips harshly and pulled your bodies closer. As he pulled your chest to his, you felt him begin to enter you and the stretch of him inside you made you gasp. The feeling burned a bit and as he moved, you tried to catch your breath. He stilled a bit and scanned your face with concern as you bit your lip, but he stopped completely when he realized you were in pain.

“Are you alright?” He asked gently and pecked your forehead as you nodded.

“Is it supposed to hurt?” You asked and he smiled before kissing a line down your neck.

“Haven’t you ever…” He trailed off before you both stared into each other’s eyes, a quiet understanding settling as he learned a bit more. “You haven’t.”

“No, I haven't.” You whispered and he looked down at your hand before bringing your wrist to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

“I’m honored to be the first.” He spoke softly and stared deeply into your eyes, “Tell me when to move, alright?”

“I’m ok, you- you can move.” You nervously agreed and he began to move deeper inside of you, finding the spot that made you shake in pleasure and pressing into them more. You gasped, shocked by how great the feeling was and he smirked at the sudden surprise you wore on your face.

“Careful. I may want to be the first and last.” His seductive tone made you shiver, the feeling of his muscles around you exhilarating, enclosing you to the bed. His face was so close to yours, and the way he slowly moved against you, on you, with you, made the world feel so small. His groans brought you closer, and the rhythm of his thrusts made you feel yourself about to tumble off of the brink of ecstasy. Your mind spun as everything in your body tensed, shaking and letting out a loud scream as you writhed under him. As you yelled, he quickly sank his fangs into your throat, and the sting of the punctures made you roll her eyes. You hissed through your teeth as he drank, the piercing pain in your veins making your toes curl happily while he drank you in, literally.

You both groaned and shifted as he closed his eyes and thrusted into you harshly, pulling his fangs from your throat and pushing into you one last time before he clenched his teeth and finished deep inside of you.

The heaviness of your panting makes Miguel smile as he barely looks as if he’s moved at all.

“Did you like that?” He kisses your cheek, warm lips pressing into your slick skin and making your eyes close comfortably.

“Yes… did you?”

“Of course, I can’t imagine any man who wouldn’t enjoy being with you. I’d like to keep going… everyday.” His voice became gentle and calm as he then said your name. You nodded and held the back of his neck as you pulled him into a kiss. The world blurred a bit as you began to drift into a sound sleep.

As you woke up, the sun blazed into the room, creating dark shadows against the brightness of the daylight. Miguel walked into the room and breezed past the widows with no fear of the sunlight at all, puzzling you.

“I thought vampires couldn’t be in the sun.”

“Vampires don’t like the sun, but that’s because our eyesight is much better than humans. We're perfectly fine in the sun, and we prefer to be in the dark because too much light causes headaches for everyone, vampire or human.” He answered and smiled once more, reminding you about your epic adventure last night with the Lord of the Vampires.

“Come back to bed…” You begged and he complied, holding your hand as he climbed onto the rich fabrics and laid his head on your stomach.

“I’d like you to live here with me, and be mine…”

“Be yours?”

“Yes. Mate with me, become my partner.” He explained and you were silent. “Not ready to commit?”

“Not sure if I’m enough. I’m just another person from the village.” You slumped your shoulders slightly as you thought more about how wrong he was. He was a historic creature, deadly and legendary, and you were just another townsperson.

“Mi vida, you are the one I’ve been waiting for, for three hundred and fifty years.” His whispers made you relax your body and snuggle more into his body as he moved to meet your eyes, laying side by side now. “You don’t realize how special you really are, and one day, you will.” His red gaze made you sink into his embrace, his words hugging you like a tight blanket as the sun kissed his tan face and made your heart flutter. His hand brushed the hair from your cheeks and the tickle of his skin against you made everything feel calm and ok…

After years of feeling out of place, you finally felt at peace in his arms and everything suddenly made sense.

#miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #atsv miguel #miguel ohara smut #spider man 2099 #miguel ohara #spiderman atsv #miguel x you #miguel ohara x reader

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miukki960 · 2 days

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I'm gonna make this post before I go in the tag and see ANY God or Diew slander, because for me the conflict this episode not only made sense, but was necessary for their relationship to move forward.

The seed was planted long ago when God first found the picture of Diew and Dr. Asshole, and at first God handled it rationally (as expected of our Green Flag King). But the longer the situation went unresolved, the more doubt and insecurity began to creep in until it all came to a head in this episode, because all God needed was honesty and openness from Diew, but Diew has learned from past conditioning to lock those parts of himself away and only show a surface level of his personality and self.

I found that God's argument with Diew, while definitely escalated by emotion and insecurity, was justified at its core. We've learned throughout this story that God's main love language is Quality Time, and that most often is fulfilled by God genuinely enjoying doing anything and everything with the people he loves, so long as they are having a good time. But his conversation with Dr. Asshole put the idea in his mind that Diew has simply been going with the flow and doing whatever God suggested in order to make him feel good, that he hasn't actually enjoyed their time together. And while we as an audience know that's false, the idea is one of God's worst fears and most devastating nightmares.

But he loves Diew and doesn't want to believe it's true, so he gives him multiple chances to prove him wrong. And when Diew continues to reply with lies and deflection, it unfortunately proves him right. Because while the context is a bit off and there is definitely a misunderstanding at play, at the end of the day Diew isn't being honest and isn't trusting God enough to open up and show him the deeper, more emotional parts of himself. So God comes to the only conclusion he can see, that even if Diew is no longer in love with Dr. Asshole, their love was deeper and more meaningful than what he has with God now.

But don't get me wrong! Even though Diew was choosing the wrong dialog options during his argument with God, he was also justified in choosing to keep his secrets and emotions hidden. What God doesn't know is that Diew HAS opened up before, bared his heart and soul to someone he thought he loved and trusted, and what was he rewarded with? Disinterest, deflection, shame. As someone with major anxieties related to human interaction, you only have to burn him once to teach him to never play with fire again. And Dr. Asshole burned him deeply on multiple occasions.

No amount of kindness and sweetness and love from God was gonna convince him to play with fire again. In fact, it was reaffirming. Much like what we have been seeing with Wan towards Beer, I'm sure Diew sees how good and wonderful God is and is absolutely terrified to fuck it up. But just like Wan, his defense became his biggest downfall.

At the end of the day, rather than focusing on what happened, we should instead focus on why it happened and how the characters are going to grow from it. And we can see that how through the characters actions during the last few minutes of the episode. We see Diew, who's defense is to isolate, actively reaching out to God multiple times in multiple ways, ready to explain and open up and heal. And we see God going through the more nasty, volatile parts of his emotions alone, so he doesn't hurt Diew while he's in the wrong headspace, but also doesn't bottle the bad things to explode later.

I think what gets me the most is that in their very last conversation before the end of the episode, Diew was asking for togetherness and God was asking for space, and they were both upset on many levels, but they were still speaking to each other with love in their tone and words.

#monster next door #monster next door the series #goddiew #misunderstandings are one of my least favorite plot devises #but this show is an example of how it can be done right and in a way that furthers and improves the story and characters

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i-am-the-n1-trash · 22 hours

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I'm rereading Tim Drake: Robin and honestly, Tim and Bernard's relationship just makes me so emotional. The fact that they both see each other as the 'bad one' in the relationship, with the other being their 'savior' says so much about their previous relationships.

Tim's biggest canon relationship is obviously Steph and, though I love her to death, their relationship was at points extremely unhealthy, and Tim was often shamed for his actions. He's the bad guy when Bruce won't let him tell her his name. He's the bad guy when Darla kisses him without consent. He's the bad guy for avoiding her when she comes back from faking her own death (against her will, I'm aware, but still), even though their relationship hadn't been in good terms at all when she 'died'.

Though Tim has his fair share of romantic relationships, only two outside of Steph, to me, are as meaningful or well-known enough to warrant exploring, and those are Ariana and Tam (There was definitely guilt with Lynx, but that was from the "she's possibly a criminal" kind, and his issues with Cassie come from a very different place too.)

In both these relationships, there are many times where Tim sees himself as the bad guy. With Ariana, he struggles with his growing feelings for Steph and the guilt of keeping a secret identity from someone he loves, not to mention the fact this is his first serious relationship and he constantly feels like he's messing up. With Tam, the secret isn't a problem anymore, but he ends up constantly putting her in danger just from knowing him, and that puts him off the idea of pursuing a relationship with her altogether.

With Bernard, though, it's the first time in a long time he has a complete fresh start. He's been stuck in a cycle of breaking up and making up with Steph, because they see each other as safe and familiar, but even that is something Tim feels guilty for.

Bernard is someone he knew, who Tim has enough history with to trust him, but who he is still getting to know now as the adults they've become, with no expectations of each other. He still sees himself as the bad guy, as the liar hiding his identity from him. They have a couple step backs, like when Tim has to ask him about the cult as Robin, but even then Bernard makes it clear that while he's angry, he understands why he's doing it, by doubling down on the fact that, regardless of Tim's current actions, their relationship is still a happy part of Bernard's life. (This comfort doesn't work that well, because Tim is a dumbass who doesn't realize Bernard knows he's Robin, but I digress.)

Essentially, to Tim, Bernard is the first baggage-free relationship he's had for a very long time, and he's somewhat plagues by the secrets he's keeping from him. To Tim, he is lying and putting him in danger, and Bernard, who he sees as a bright light in his life, deserves better.

On the other hand, we don't have that much info on Bernard's past relationships outside of Darla/Laura and Tim, but it's still easy to see that this boy is overflowing with self-deprecation.

In both Batman: Urban Legends and Tim Drake: Robin we see that his parents are, in the first one, very unaware of his life, and, in the second one, incredibly disapproving of his 'lifestyle' and even borderline emotionally abusive. Bernard really never met their expectations since he was young, and while he seems almost dismissive of this, you can tell it strikes him deep.

The one big thing we know about Bernard is the cult, and that already tells us everything we need to know. No one joins a cult if they have lot of self-love and confidence, especially not when the cult's main idea is to let go of all your problems through torture.

So when Tim, a guy he's had a crush on for years, someone he knows (or eventually finds out, the timeline is ambiguous) is not only a superhero, but his favorite superhero, Robin, he sees himself as dirty. As tainting Tim's heroism. Bernard is a likely depressed queer kid who fell victim to a cult, who has a history of self harm, with a bad relationship with his parents. To him, Tim is the one good thing in his life, and he says it outright even when they are having what's possibly their first big fight (unbeknownst to Tim, who, as I mentioned, is a dumbass <3).

He doesn't blame Tim at all for lying or keeping a secret identity, because Bernard sees himself as second to Robin in Tim's eyes and never once tries to fight back on that idea. Bernard considers Robin to be more important than himself, in general, and doesn't see anything wrong with that. To Bernard, Tim is the best thing that has ever happened to him, and the fact that they're dating is a blessing he doesn't believe he deserves.

In conclusion, these should like. Talk to each other. Please. And also both go to therapy. They love each other so much

#anyway this is my essay as to why the seraph from 35mm is the timbern song ever #also this is a half assed character essay ok please no one get mad at me if i accidentally said something wrong i am just a girl #dc give bernard more screen time right now or die #the reason people complain he's boring is bc 1. they haven't read td:r and 2. DC WONT LET HIM SHOW UP ANYWHERE ELSE #anyways. tis past my bedtime and im insane about these two #tim drake #bernard dowd #timbern #dc #dc comics #my post #mi's late night rants

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mandalhoerian · 1 day

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sacrosanct | leon kennedy x reader | 5 (finale)

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pairing: leon kennedy x f!reader

summary: Leon, a paladin of the temple who became a disillusioned oathbreaker, returns from years of war with a noble title and shattered faith. Once devoted to the Saintess who healed him, Leon's admiration has twisted into repressed desire—feelings he could never express, tainted by guilt and shame. Now a celebrated hero, he’s drawn back not to the kingdom’s praises, but to the chance of one last glimpse of you to move on with his life.

The god he abandoned has other plans for him.

word count: 25K of pure smut

warnings:. here we go... sexual roleplay, submissive leon, light dom/sub, masturbation, kinda body worship, catharsis through sex, role reversal and we shift to soft dom leon, sex education, body exploration, cunnilingus, fingering, intercrural sex, degradation kink, leon tweaks again and goes full dom, vaginal orgasm training, corruption kink, marking kink, edging, overstimulation, dacryphilia, possesive sex, unprotected sex, coming inside. what else? and ooc and fluff. yay!

author's note: we are at the end of my very first multi-chaptered xreader work, thank you so much for bearing with me while i was tormented by becoming what i hated the most and constantly crying over having to bump up the chapter count. to think this was supposed to be a two-shot... special thanks goes to @chesue00 for starting this madness. this plot and pre-written snippets already existed inspired by her art before i reached out to her, but i still can't believe i've come this far since publishing this on september 14th... insane. this is what dopamine and a little attention does to a girl 😭 please look forward to the masterlist because i have to make one now with how long this is....

🌀 READ ON AO3 !

It's a heady feeling, having this strong, powerful man kneeling before you, his muscular body on display for you, undivided attention fixed on yours with a mixture of desire and trepidation. You run a hand through his hair, enjoying the silky softness of it despite being wet, and he leans into your touch, glazed eyes going out of focus for a moment. Your own heart speeds up at how his mouth falls open, panting, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips, leaving them glistening invitingly.

It dawns on you that you don't know what you're doing right now. Are you trying to prove a point, or are you just indulging in your own fantasy? Is it okay to do this to Leon? You've had many men on their knees in a completely different context devoid of this kind of intimacy, whether it be for healing, blessing, or for sineating. All for the sake of helping them, with the holy light of Ethelion running through your veins, flowing to the believers. This isn't anything like that, but it can be. You can make this a blessing, for him to heal from the self-loathing he seems to be suffering from. That is, if he'll let you help him...

"Are you okay with this?" you ask, and he nods immediately, eagerly.

"Yes," he breathes, his gaze fixed on your face, drinking in every detail, committing them to memory as though it's the most precious gift he's ever been given, even though you haven't even started doing anything. Leon's gaze flickers down to your towel-covered lap and back up to yours.

"You can say no anytime you want," you remind him gently, stroking his hair once more, and he leans into your touch again, this time with a contented sigh. His eyelids flutter shut and open again languidly as if in slow motion, and when he looks at you, there is something different about him. The tension seems to have melted away, leaving behind a man who seems... almost peaceful? It's a startling contrast from earlier, when he seemed like a caged animal ready to lash out at anything within reach, and it makes your heart ache unexpectedly at how beautiful he looks like this.

"I want to do this," he says firmly, no trace of hesitation or doubt evident anywhere within those oceanic depths staring straight into yours without wavering even once. "Please."

"Okay," you reply, nodding in agreement, because how can you deny him this when he asks so sweetly? You tug at his shirt lightly. "Then take this off, Sir Leon."

His fingers move deftly over his shirt's buttons, undoing them one by one until he shrugs it off his broad shoulders easily enough before letting it fall to the floor behind him.

Your gaze trails over every ridge and dip on his bare torso, taking in all the marks left behind after years of battles fought against foes both seen and unseen by others besides himself; some faint silver lines barely noticeable beneath tanned complexion while others remain angry red welts raised thickly above otherwise unblemished flesh. There are several long slashes across his abdomen that must have been painful when received judging by how jagged their edges are where they healed incorrectly. A particularly nasty gash just below his collarbone stands out amongst the rest due to its length stretching almost entirely around the side of his ribcage, and disappearing beneath his arm. Another smaller but deeper cut runs along his hip bone leading downward towards his navel area.

He hasn't received the temple's healing because of his oathbreaker status.

It gives you an idea.

Since he's comfortable within the bubble of kneeling before you as the saintess and reverting back to the holy paladin that he was, then you'll play along and offer him a 'blessing'.

You lean forward, your breath ghosting over the scar on his collarbone, and press a light kiss there. His skin is warm and salty, and you can feel his pulse pounding under your lips. "By the power blessed by Ethelion, I will heal you, his devout and faithful knight," you whisper against his skin, letting the holy words roll off your tongue.

He sucks in a sharp breath at your words, his entire body tensing beneath you. Then he relaxes again, his head tilting back just a tad as he gives himself over to your touch.

Kissing seems to have pleased him, but your vantage point on the bed isn't exactly ideal to reach the rest of his body. "On the bed," you order him softly. "Lay on your back."

He does so immediately, scrambling up onto the bed and settling himself on the center of the mattress. He looks so vulnerable like this, spread out before you, and you can't help but marvel at the sight of him. You take a moment to drink it in—the way his muscles shift beneath his skin with every movement, the slight sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes heavily through parted lips.

He looks up at you, and his gaze is full of longing and anticipation. You feel a rush of power go through you as you realize just how much control you have over him right now. It's intoxicating.

"Stay still, Sir Leon," you command. "My blessing won't work if you move." And then you're crawling onto the bed with him, straddling his thighs, feeling them tense beneath your legs at the contact. You can feel him hard and hot even through his pants and your towel, pressing insistently against you. The sensation sends a jolt straight to your core and leaves you aching for something more that you don't know the name of.

You trail the path of the previous wound you kiss with the tips of your fingers, featherlight touches that make him shiver. Then you lean down and kiss it again, letting your lips linger this time. He sucks in a shaky breath when your tongue flicks out to taste the salt on his skin.

Acting entirely on instinct to keep pleasing him, you move lower, trailing kisses along his shoulder, down his chest, stopping to lick and suck at his nipples. His hands fist in the sheets as he struggles to keep them still, his breathing becoming increasingly erratic.

You move lower still, tracing the lines of his abs with your tongue, dipping into the indentations between each one. He moans softly when you nip at the sensitive skin just above the waistband of his pants. His hips jerk upward, seeking friction against yours, and you have to bite back a moan of your own at the feeling.

"Saintess," he whispers desperately, his hands flexing in their grip on the sheets like he wants nothing more than to touch you but is holding himself back somehow.

"Stay still, my paladin. My blessing isn't finished," you remind him, and he falls silent, biting his bottom lip hard enough that it looks painful. He throws his head back, giving you a sensual look at his throat and the underside of his chin.

You can kiss there as well, you realize, and do so, kissing his chin and jaw, then moving down the column of his throat until you reach the hollow where it meets his collarbones again. His pulse flutters wildly under your ministrations as you continue exploring every inch of him within reach like this: licking here and sucking there, nibbling gently along the way. Your hand rests flat on his pectorals and stomach alternatively, feeling how rock-solid every muscle is underneath his smooth, somewhat sweaty skin, and reveling on the occasional shudders rippling through his body that he can't suppress.

He gasps and whines when you pay extra attention to one spot or another that seems to be especially sensitive or ticklish for him, and his reactions encourage you further. You're enjoying every second of this—exploring his body like a map only you have access to right now—learning what makes him squirm beneath you and what gets those interesting little noises he's holding back loose.

By the time you reach his navel again, he's panting hard enough that he's practically wheezing with every exhale, his entire body trembling finely like a plucked bowstring being tuned tighter than ever before. And yet somehow he manages to remain motionless throughout it all except for the occasional twitch or jerk here and there.

You spend several long moments lavishing attention on his abdomen area alone as you're planning how to go along with this. Your knowledge on sexual matters is scarce since the church was always very particular in what kind of information they allowed the Saintess to access, and the directions given for your wedding night consisted of laying back and letting Leon do his duty on you. Which ended up being useless, and now you have to navigate this on your own. It's thrilling and scary at the same time, but you're determined to see this through.

You decide to try something daring then: sliding down between his legs until you're kneeling on either side of them instead. This puts you face-to-face—or rather face-to-crotch—with his erection straining against his pants. It's hot even through layers of fabric separating it from your skin, and you find yourself staring at it curiously while trying not to think about its size too much before your nerves fail you completely.

"Saintess," he says again hoarsely after what feels like forever spent just staring at him without really doing anything else besides hesitating. There's an unspoken question hanging in the air between the two of you—a silent request for permission perhaps?—but he doesn't ask outright and neither do you answer because truthfully speaking neither of you know what exactly needs to happen next either. "May I remove these?" he pleads, tugging on the waistband of said pants ever so slightly, hinting on what he wants to do next.

It's strange how much more sexual hearing him calling you that title has become when it used to sound so reverent, and now it almost sounds dirty somehow. You find that you like it quite a lot.

Getting an idea to teach yourself a thing or two going forward, you sit back on your heels, careful not to let your towel ride up too far, and nod. "I want you to show me how you please yourself," you order, watching him with rapt attention, your face flushing at your own boldness, and at the fact that you're about to see a man naked and aroused for the first time in your life. "I will bless your body, but I need to see it first."

He lets out a shivering breath as if he'd been holding it in for ages before finally moving again. He lifts his hips off the mattress enough to push his trousers down over them, exposing himself fully before you—his cock standing proud and tall amidst a nest of dark curls at its base—and you can't help but admire how beautiful he looks like this: all long limbs splayed across rumpled bed sheets, skin stretched tautly over chiseled muscle, broad shoulders flexing beneath your gaze...

But then your attention zeroes in on his cock, and your previous thought about its size comes back tenfold as you stare wide-eyed and wonderstruck at its length jutting upwards towards his stomach, thick veins running along its shaft disappearing beneath smooth skin covering its tip almost completely except for a small slit where a bead of clear liquid glistens invitingly under candlelight. You've seen illustrations of male genitalia during your anatomy studies, but those were all very clinical and sterile-looking. This is anything but clinical or sterile; this is raw and primal and utterly fascinating.

His hand wraps around its girth tentatively at first—almost shyly almost—as though unsure whether he should touch himself like this with someone else present even if they asked him explicitly beforehand. You reach forward and place your hand on the head of his cock, the little bead of liquid smearing onto your palm. It's slick and warm against your skin, and you can't stop yourself from rubbing it in circles over his heated flesh experimentally, marveling at its velvety texture, until he sucks in a sharp breath and his hips buck forward seemingly of their own accord.

You immediately withdraw, not wanting to get ahead of yourself and ruin everything by rushing things. "Confess, Sir Leon. You'll only be blessed if you do. Do you imagine anything at all when you're usually doing this to yourself?"

"I–I think about you," he blurts softly between short breaths, his hand gripping tighter around his cock as he begins slowly moving it up and down its length, hissing through his teeth when his palm brushes past the head, which seems to be the sensitive part. "I've dreamt about this ever since the day I met you, Saintess..."

"And what happens in these dreams?" you press further, your curiosity getting the better of you despite knowing full well that you shouldn't pry too much into someone else's private thoughts like this. But it feels so good to hear him talk like this—to know that he desires you even half as much as you desire him—that you just can't bring yourself to stop him from continuing any further.

"In some... I worship you, body and soul," he groans, his hand starting to pick up speed as he strokes himself faster, his hips rising to meet each downward stroke halfway, his breathing becoming ragged and shallow as he speaks, his words coming out in short bursts interspersed with low grunts and hisses of pleasure, "I lick your nethers until you cry from pleasure, and when you can't handle it any longer, I fill you up."

The mental image of him between your legs makes you throb between them, and you squirm unconsciously, pressing your legs together.

To reward him, you lay your hands on his thighs, marveling at how they tense and flex beneath your palms, before sliding up to his hips and then settling on his lower abdomen. You splay your fingers across his stomach and push down, feeling his muscles ripple beneath your touch as he thrust upwards into his fist again. It's a promise you'll do more if he keeps talking.

"In others, you're still back at the temple, and... I break my vows, and I take you to a secluded corner, and have my way with you," he continues, his free hand reaching down to cradle yours gently against his skin while the other keeps pumping steadily away at, and you closely pay attention to how he pleases himself. "Sometimes I dream of taking you in the gardens, sometimes in the baths, and sometimes even at the altar... I dream that you're begging for me, and I have to keep quiet because if anyone hears us... we'll be punished. So I kiss you to muffle your cries."

You swallow hard at the thought of him kissing you like that, imagining what it would feel like to have him pressing his lips against yours like this, tasting him on your tongue as he ravages you completely...

"Do you... do you dream of me doing that to you now, Sir Leon?" you manage to croak out after a few moments spent lost in thought.

He lets out another shuddering breath as his hand slows down considerably until it's barely moving anymore, his cock twitching visibly beneath his grip, his face flushed with desire as he stares up at you from underneath long lashes damp with sweat. His mouth falls open just a touch, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip before disappearing back inside again, and he nods wordlessly.

You lay down on the mattress beside him, and lean in close to him until you can smell the scent of his arousal mixed with his natural musk filling your nostrils—it smells earthy and spicy like freshly cut grass after rain mingling with something else entirely unique to him alone—and you breathe it in deeply before letting it fill your lungs entirely. Then you lean even closer still until your forehead rests lightly atop his shoulder, your nose grazing lightly across his collarbone as you inhale again deeply, taking in more of his scent as though trying to commit it permanently within memory.

"Let me bless you with that, then," you whisper in his ear, and then press your own lips to his.

It's soft and tentative at first—a simple sweep of skin upon skin—but when he doesn't pull away immediately, you press harder, doing whatever feels right; nibbling at his lower lip and sucking it between your teeth, licking along the seam where his lips meet, tasting him fully, feeling him shiver beneath your touch as he moans into your mouth, his hips jerking upwards into his hand once again as he resumes stroking himself faster than ever before.

Remembering that the head was the sensitive part and he liked you touching there, you reach down and cup it in your palm, rubbing it in circular motions, and he groans louder this time, his cock throbbing hard against your fingers, more liquid coming out to slicken the movement.

Something slimy slips into your mouth, and it takes a moment for you to realize that it's his tongue invading past your lips and teeth, seeking entrance further within. It feels strange—odd but not unpleasant—to have another person's tongue exploring inside of you like this, and you find yourself responding instinctively to him taking the lead, opening up wider for him to delve deeper inside of you, meeting his every stroke with one of your own. You're completely inexperienced, but he doesn't seem to care, instead seeming to enjoy teaching you what he likes.

You're both panting heavily now, gasping for air every so often in between fervent kisses, the sounds of flesh against flesh growing louder and louder alongside the wet friction of his hand stroking furiously away at his cock and yours rubbing insistently atop it. He breaks off from the kiss with a guttural growl, throwing his head back against the pillows, exposing his neck which you immediately latch onto, kissing and nibbling along his jugular vein, feeling it pulse wildly beneath your lips, tasting salt on his skin as you suckle lightly there.

"Saintess!" he cries out desperately as his hips start jerking erratically beneath you, his hand pumping frantically faster than ever before, and you know he's close by the way his cock twitches violently within his grasp, his balls tightening up against his body as he approaches climax.

"Perfect, you're doing perfect," you coo, and completely losing yourself in how beautiful the sight of his head thrown back is, you take your free hand and wrap it around his throat, feeling his pulse quicken even further beneath your fingertips as he sucks in a sharp breath through flaring nostrils. You don't squeeze, just hug the sides of his muscular neck, but the effect it has on him is immediate and dramatic: his entire body stiffens up like a bowstring drawn taut, every muscle tensing rigidly beneath you.

"Release, and be blessed," you order, and with one final cry, he does exactly that. Thick ropes spurt forth from the tip of his cock and splatter across both your stomachs and the sheets beneath him, coating everything in their path with sticky white fluid. His hips keep thrusting upwards into his fist for several more seconds after the last spurt has been expelled from his cock, until finally, his body relaxes completely under yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each ragged breath he draws in, his cock slowly beginning to soften within his grip.

You release his throat and press your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in and enjoying the scent of his skin mingled with sweat, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath yours, listening to his heartbeat gradually slow down from its frantic pace earlier.

"Ethelion's grace be upon you, Sir Leon," you murmur against his neck, and you hear him exhale shakily beneath you as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer against him, curling around you as though trying to shield you from some unseen danger looming nearby. "I absolve you of your sins."

"Thank you, Saintess," he whispers hoarsely back at you after a few moments spent simply holding each other close like this, neither of you saying anything further aloud but rather communicating everything needed through actions instead of words. It feels nice being held like this—being sheltered within someone else's embrace—and it fills your heart with warmth knowing that he trusts you enough to let himself be vulnerable.

He shifts around underneath you, causing you to lift your head off his chest to check on him, thinking he's uncomfortable in the position you're in, but when you look up at his face, you find him staring intently back down at yours, his gaze soft yet intense all at once.

"Where did you learn all of that?" he asks quietly, an imperceptible, suspicious crinkle between his eyebrows. He’s almost searching for the answer in your face before you can give it to him.

"Learn what?" you ask, puzzled by his question. "I just followed your lead"

"You don't realize what you just did?" He frowns just a touch, looking concerned now instead of curious. "That was…”

“Did I do something wrong?”

"God no," he said quickly, shaking his head. "It was incredible. I've just never had anyone take control like that before. Especially not..." He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at your position.

"Oh," you reply, feeling somewhat embarrassed now that you realize your actions could have easily been misinterpreted as something more sinister than innocent exploration. You wonder if perhaps you crossed a line somewhere without realizing it earlier. "I hope I wasn't forcing you or anything..."

Leon's hand came up to cup your cheek. "You didn't overstep at all. I loved every second of it. I'd do it again in a heartbeat if you asked."

You smile shyly at him before placing a quick peck on his lips, causing him to hum contentedly, his hold around your waist tightening, pulling you closer toward him once again until there is hardly any space left between the two of you at all anymore.

"I'm glad then," you murmur softly against his mouth. "Because I think I liked doing it too."

But there's really this intense pressure between your legs and you think you have to use the chamber pot, so you squirm out of Leon's embrace to do just that. However, as soon as you get off the bed, a gush of liquid comes out of you, and you're terrified thinking that you just wet yourself in front of him. It's not that much to completely have soaked through the towel, and you're able to make it to the washroom without giving anything away to Leon.

You remove your towel and stare at the mess between your legs. But it isn't urine, since the liquid is clear and doesn't stink, and it's thicker, viscous almost. You come to the conclusion that if you did pee yourself then it would feel different than this does right now.

You clean yourself with water and a washcloth, and when you wipe between your legs, you feel that intense pressure again, and you have to sit down to wait to pee this time, but nothing comes out. You try pushing it out, but all that happens is a little bit more of that clear fluid. It's strange, and you're worried about it. You don't remember ever experiencing anything like it before and wonder if perhaps you hurt yourself during your earlier activities or caught a disease somehow, but nothing seems wrong with you otherwise, so you brush it aside for the moment, making a mental note to ask Lady Margaret for advice later when she arrives tomorrow morning. But for now, it's time to get back into bed and cuddle up with Leon again.

You wake up the next morning to find Leon's arm draped across your chest, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, and his body pressed up firmly against your back. It's warm and comforting, being held like this, and you can't help but enjoy the sensation of being surrounded by him like a protective cocoon.

His hand moves in a subtle manner, flicking over one of your nipples, and you feel a jolt of pleasure shoot straight through you from that simple contact alone, your thighs pressing together as a sudden heat blooms low in your belly. It feels good having his skin touch yours like this, making you want more of him touching even more places elsewhere on your body, especially after he had made his desire for you clear last night. He wants you, and that knowledge sends another thrill through you, leaving you feeling giddy and excited.

He lets out a soft groan behind you as he pulls you closer towards him until that want is pressed firmly up against your buttocks. You can tell he's already hard, his arousal evident even in his sleep, and you can't deny the effect that has on your own growing neediness that goes beyond wanting to touch him like that again. You remember how good it felt last night when you touched him, how much pleasure he gave himself while you watched him do so, and you find yourself wanting to experience that kind of pleasure firsthand now, too.

You've been told that the women don't experience it, that they have to endure it and that's why the temple made the act of coupling such a chore. But you know that itch between your legs isn't going anywhere anytime soon, that it was real yesterday as well, and it felt amazing when you got what little friction you could by moving around. You wonder how to alleviate this feeling without Leon's assistance. Surely there had to be a way to do it by yourself?

But as you try to move away from him to try and see how you can do it, he tightens his hold on you and buries his nose further into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. "Don't leave," he mumbles sleepily. His lips brush against the sensitive skin there as he speaks, causing you to shiver involuntarily at the sensation, and you feel his cock throb where it's nestled snugly between the cheeks of your ass.

"Good morning, Leon," you say quietly, reaching back to run your fingers through his hair, and you're rewarded by his cock pulsating again, his hips rolling forward against yours instinctively.

"Mmm..." he hums contentedly, nuzzling into your hand. "Morning." His other arm comes up to wrap around your waist and pull you even closer to him, his body seeming to mold perfectly around yours as though the two of you were made for each other. You can't help but sigh happily at the feeling of being held so intimately like this. It feels right somehow, natural even, and you find yourself wanting more of it, wanting to wake up every day like this, safe and secure in his embrace.

But the feeling of his hard shaft rubbing against your backside reminds you that there's something else you need right now, and that thought sends another shiver through you, the heat in your belly flaring brighter than before.

"Leon," you say softly, trying not to let too much of the neediness you're feeling seep into your tone, though you're sure he can feel the tension building inside of you anyway, especially with the way your hips keep twitching backward indiscernibly as though seeking out friction where there is none yet. "Can I ask you for something?"

"Anything," he replies instantly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade. "Anything at all."

You hesitate briefly before continuing. "Do you know if I can do to myself what you did yesterday?"

He goes completely still behind you, his entire body tensing as he processes what you've just said. Then he lets out a shaky breath, his grip on you loosening partly as rises on his elbow, leaning over to look down at you. His pupils are wide and dark with desire, his face flushed, and his breathing roughly controlled as he gazes into your own half-lidded ones.

"What?" he whispers hoarsely, his throat bobbing visibly as he swallows hard, his eyes darting everywhere on your face. You bite your bottom lip nervously before repeating yourself.

"I want to do what you did yesterday. To myself," you say slowly, carefully enunciating each word so he understands exactly what it is you're asking of him here. "Can I do that? Will it help this...?" You gesture vaguely towards your groin area, unsure how else to phrase it without sounding crude or indecent. "This itch?"

"Fuck."

Your eyebrows shoot all the way up to your hairline when you hear him cursing for the first time in your presence. He's always so respectful that the sudden change is quite jarring.

"Is everything okay?"

He drops his head back to your shoulder and groans quietly in frustration, burying his face into your hair. "You can't ask me things like that," he says in a pained tone.

"Why?" you ask, genuinely confused by his reaction. It seems perfectly reasonable to you given the situation at hand. "You were enjoying yourself, weren't you? I'd like to try it."

"Shit..." He lifts his head again and looks down at you, his expression serious and faintly exasperated. "That's called 'masturbation'. And you can do it. And yes, it will ease that 'itch' for you."

"Oh. That's a relief." You smile brightly at him. "Will you show me?"

"Saintess!"

"What?"

"It's broad daylight in the morning, you can't do this to me," he exclaims, his face reddening even more than it already is, and you can't help but giggle at how adorable he looks. You turn around to face him and reach out to cup his cheek, gently stroking your thumb across his cheekbone in an attempt to soothe him.

"I'm not trying to torture you," you assure him gently. "Just tell me how to do it and I'll leave you alone for a bit, alright? Please?"

"You play too much," he complains gruffly, but nevertheless leans into your touch, closing his dark-ringed eyelids and exhaling slowly. He seems calmer now, less frantic than he did earlier, though there's still a noticeable tension in his body. You wait patiently, watching the rise and fall of his bare chest under the blanket, listening to his heartbeat gradually slowing down from its earlier frantic pace. "Lay back."

You comply, settling comfortably atop the mattress, and he takes a moment to study you like that, lying naked beneath him, exposed and vulnerable yet somehow comfortable nonetheless. His gaze travels over every inch of your body, lingering here and there, essentially the same way you studied his last night. It's strangely arousing being observed so closely like this, and you find yourself trying to fend off your squirming under his scrutiny, wanting to cover yourself up somehow but resisting the urge to do so. Instead, you let him look his fill, your own cheeks warming in a blush as you return his stare through lidded eyes.

"Spread your legs," he eventually instructs. You hesitate briefly before obeying, parting your thighs slowly, the cool air of the room caressing your skin as it is exposed to the open space. Leon's breath hitches visibly at the sight, his pupils dilating further as he drinks you in.

This is way too embarrassing. Why did he get to lay perfectly horizontal on the bed yesterday while you're the one on display today? You almost want to ask him if you can switch roles and have him demonstrate it instead.

But it's not like you can take it back now. He's looking at you with such intensity that it makes you shiver, and you can feel the slickness between your legs increasing with each passing second. Your nipples are starting to stiffen and tingle, your breasts feeling fuller than usual, and there's a faint throbbing sensation deep in your pelvis, a need building up within you that demands attention and relief.

"Touch yourself," he orders quietly, his tone low and gravelly, his gaze never leaving yours even for a second. You hesitate once more before reaching down, tentatively running your fingertips along your inner thighs until they finally come into contact with your sex without quite knowing what to do next. "Explore."

"Explore?"

"You're discovering yourself. You have to know where everything is, so you know where to pay attention to the most."

"Everything?" you echo uncertainly. "There's more than one thing?"

"Saintess..." he moans in exasperation, his forehead dropping onto your inner thigh, and he shakes his head slowly, his hair tickling your skin.

"Sorry!" you apologize on the spot. "I just... don't understand."

He sighs again heavily, lifting his head to look at you again, his expression softening. "I'll guide you, okay?"

"Okay but why do you know more about me than I know about myself?"

"Because I've studied it. And I've imagined it a lot," he admits, blushing furiously at his confession, and you can't help but giggle again at how cute he looks like this.

"Oh? You've imagined my... this?" You gesture vaguely towards your groin. "A lot?"

Him looking up at you between your legs like that feels very strange. You're aware of how close his mouth is to you, and it's making the pressure in your belly increase exponentially. It's like there's a string connecting your heart and sex, and every time you look at Leon, that string is pulled tighter, and to what end, you have no idea. All you know is that you want it to keep happening, and you don't want it to ever stop.

"Less talking. Spread yourself open for me. Like this." He takes your wrist in his hand and guides two fingers towards your slit, spreading it apart gently to reveal all its hidden secrets, including the little bud of nerves hidden at its apex. It's so sensitive when air touches it that it's making your hips twitch and your back arch. "Do you see this?"

"Y—es," you stutter, trying your hardest to remain still as he continues guiding your fingers across your folds, teaching you about yourself and your body as he goes along.

"This is your clitoris," he says softly, pressing your fingers against it lightly and causing another shudder of pleasure to course through your entire being, "and it's very sensitive. You can rub it, tap it, flick it, or even suck on it."

"Suck?" You can't imagine yourself bending to that degree, one has to be especially flexible and you're not sure if you are. You've certainly never tried before. "How would I suck on this? There's no way I can bend like that..."

You see that he wants to laugh but presses his lips together at the last second so as not to offend you.

"I can do it for you," he says right after, his tone eager, his words coming out faster than normal, his pupils dilating visibly once again. "I mean... only if you want me to, of course."

You nod shyly, your face heating up considerably at the thought of what he's offering to do for you, and then he shifts lower on the bed, positioning himself between your thighs. You instinctively try to close them but he gently pushes them apart again, keeping them open wide enough so he can fit comfortably without hindrance. His hot breath fans across your sensitive flesh, sending shivers up and down your spine, and you have to fight the instinctive urge to squeeze them shut again.

He's looking at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and the intensity of his gaze is almost overwhelming, making you feel vulnerable yet strangely empowered at the same time.

He places a soft kiss directly on your clit and you gasp audibly, arching your back as a wave of pleasure washes over you, your hands clutching at the sheets beneath you in an attempt to ground yourself.

He looks up at you again, his dark lashes lowered and fluttering, and then he leans forward and places another kiss on your clit before parting his lips and sucking it into his mouth.

The sensation of his tongue flickering over it is indescribable, and you moan softly as he begins licking it in earnest, alternating between slow, languid strokes and quick flicks of his tongue, each one sending sparks of pure ecstasy that you have to clap a hand over your mouth to muffle the embarrassing noises you're making.

"No, don't do that," he protests after a few moments, pulling away from your sex briefly, and then he reaches up and takes your wrist in his hand and pulls it away from your face, "don't stifle your beautiful noises. I want to hear you moaning for me, Saintess. I want to know exactly how good I make you feel," he murmurs, and then resumes his task, his lips closing around your clit once more as he resumes his ministrations, his tongue flickering across it faster than before, the suction stronger as well.

"Le-on, this is... Too embarrassing," you whine, your entire body quivering as he continues pleasuring you, his mouth hot and wet against your most intimate parts.

"You'll get used to it," he says reassuringly, his tone gentle yet firm as he looks up at you again, mouth still wrapped around your clit so his words vibrate through it. He releases it with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting his lips to it momentarily, and smiles crookedly. "We're just getting started."

His hands come up to grip your hips, holding you steady as he continues to devour you with his mouth, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your buttocks, kneading them roughly, and you're not sure how much more of this you can handle.

You've never felt anything like this before, and you're not sure you want it to stop either, despite your protests, because the pleasure he's giving you right now is unlike anything you've ever experienced. You're completely lost to the sensations, your mind a haze of lust and desire as he continues to worship you with his tongue, his lips and teeth nipping and scraping across your clit and swollen folds, and you're pretty sure that if he were to keep this up, you would explode from the sheer intensity of it all.

He moves lower, his mouth leaving your clit and moving downwards towards your entrance, and he pauses there for a moment, his breath warm against your slit as he takes a deep breath, his nose pressed firmly into the folds, and he inhales deeply, his entire body shuddering violently. "You smell amazing," he breathes out reverently, fiercely as you squirm on the bed beneath him, the heat in your belly flaring up even brighter than ever.

"Please..." you beg him without knowing what you're asking for. It makes him look up at you with a strange light shining in his eyes, something at the opposite spectrum of the reverence you had seen in them last night, and the sight of it sends a thrill of excitement down your spine.

"Please what?" he prompts softly, his fingers tracing lazy circles over the skin of your inner thighs.

"Please... don't stop," you plead quietly, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you tightly.

"Okay," he agrees simply, lowering his head back down to press a kiss against your slit.

Then he plunges his tongue inside you and you cry out loud, your back arching as your hips buck upwards. You have to bite down on the noise, because you can't believe the sounds you're making, and you're not sure you want him to hear them, even if they're caused by the pleasure he's giving you. But he doesn't seem to care, too focused on his task, his tongue thrusting in and out of you, his fingers digging into your buttocks so hard that it will likely leave bruises later. You're not sure why but the idea of having his marks on your body sends a new wave of desire coursing through you and you can feel yourself gushing into his mouth.

"Leon," you moan, your fingers finding their way to his head and tangling themselves in his silky hair, "I—I need... I—"

He hums questioningly against your cunt and the vibrations make your hips jump, the coil within your belly tightening even more, and you're not sure how much longer you can last, your entire body is on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release, and you're pretty sure you're about to explode into a million pieces.

"I'm... I'm...," you pant breathlessly, unable to articulate the rest of the sentence properly.

He seems to understand something you don't, lowering the arm that's holding you down so the thumb of it can draw circles around your clit, and sliding the fingers of his other hand towards your entrance, circling it before pushing inside, causing you to gasp at the intrusion.

He pumps the digits in and out of you slowly at first, then faster, matching the rhythm of his tongue, and you can't help but moan loudly as the pressure builds within you, your muscles clenching around him as the pleasure becomes unbearable, and you can't hold back anymore, you're going to burst, you're going to burst, you're going to burst—

"Wait, please, wait, stop," you gasp, your hands pushing at his head weakly, and he pulls away from your sex instantly, looking up at you in concern. His chin is slick with your fluids and his lips swollen from his ministrations. He's breathing heavily, and in daylight, you can see how red from chest up he is.

"Did I hurt you?" he asks worriedly, his hands rubbing your inner thighs soothingly.

You shake your head, avoiding his eyes as you have to disappointingly say, "I have to use the chamber pot."

You're not sure if this is the right time to say this or not but it feels necessary given the circumstances, and you're afraid that if you don't speak up now, you'll regret it later.

He blinks owlishly, seemingly taken aback by your statement. "What?"

"I have to pee," you say, face burning furiously as you try to explain yourself further. "I don't think I'll be able to hold it any longer if you continue."

He stares at you for a long moment, his expression completely blank. Then suddenly he bursts out laughing, throwing his head back as his entire body shakes with mirth, his shoulders trembling as he struggles to contain himself, his laughter ringing out loudly in the quiet room.

You frown, feeling a bit offended. "Why are you laughing?!"

He wipes away the tears from his eyelashes with the back of his hand as he tries to compose himself, taking several deep breaths before he finally calms down enough to answer you. "I'm sorry, it's just that... Well, it's normal. It's not actually pee, and you don't have to worry about it leaking out or anything."

"It's not pee?"

"No. It's called orgasming, and it's completely normal," he assures you gently, his tone softening considerably. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. I did too yesterday when you were touching me, remember? That white liquid?"

You nod, relieved to hear him confirm your suspicions, though still somewhat embarrassed by the fact that he knows what happened earlier. "Okay," you mumble shyly, covering your face with your hands, unable to look at him directly.

"Hey," he whispers, leaning forward until he can kiss each knuckle, and then he pulls your hand away from your face and kisses the tip of your nose. "It's okay. There's no need to feel ashamed of your own body."

You nod again, biting your lip nervously. "Okay."

"Can we continue now?" he asks, his tone hopeful. "I want to make you come."

"I've never... come before," you say, fiddling with the sheets between your fingers. "How would I even know if I did?"

"It's pretty unmistakable," he chuckles, and he kisses you softly then, his tongue darting into your mouth to taste yours, and he moans against your lips as you reciprocate the action eagerly, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.

The kiss lasts longer than either of you intended, and by the time he pulls away, you're both breathing heavily, your cheeks flushed from exertion, the need within you growing stronger than ever, and you can't wait any longer; you want him to make you come, and you want him to do it now.

"Would you like to go to the bathroom first, just to be sure?" he asks quietly, his hand resting on your hip.

You shake your head. "No. Just continue."

"Alright." He smiles and kisses you once more before returning to your sex, and this time, there's no hesitation or gentleness, only pure lust and desire as he plunges his tongue inside you again and resumes thrusting his fingers into you, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit, and what's been cooling down starts building back up slowly, and you can already feel yourself clenching around his fingers as the pressure within you grows.

The pressure on your clit dissipates for a moment, and the next, he's removing your hand from the grip you have on the sheets, and places it on his head, and guides your fingers so they curl into his soft locks. "Hold onto me," he says, and he resumes eating you out, his fingers pumping faster than ever, and he's relentless, his tongue and lips working in tandem to bring you closer to the edge, and you're moaning louder than before, your hips rolling upwards to meet him halfway, the coil within you tightening even more.

The noise he makes when you pull his hair goes straight towards your belly, and the way he's lapping and slurping on your sex like that is obscene. You're pretty sure he's licking all the way back to your ass, but you can't really focus on that right now, the pleasure within you mounting rapidly.

"Tell me how I'm making you feel," he says after a few moments, his mouth still pressed firmly against you, the eye contact he's maintaining while he does so making your insides clench.

"I— It feels good," you manage to say through gritted teeth, your entire body trembling.

"Yeah? Just good? Tell me more," he encourages you, his tongue darting into you again, and your hiss transitions into a loud moan as he continues to work you over.

"I'm so close," you gasp, your thighs closing around his head, "I'm... I'm..."

"Come for me, then. Don't fight it. Let it happen," he murmurs, his words vibrating against your clit as his tongue flickers across it rapidly, his fingers pumping in and out of you harder than ever.

"Leon..." you whimper, your grip on his hair tightening as he sucks your clit between his lips and flicks his tongue over it quickly, and you're done. You cry out loudly as your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your back arching as your thighs clamp down around his head and your hips jerk upwards, and he holds you steady through it all, his tongue never leaving your sex until every last drop has been wrung out of you. You've been dropped off a cliff, and the fall has your insides quivering and your hips spasming. You're not sure what's happening, but you're pretty sure you've died and got your first glimpse of Ethelion.

The euphoria is incomparable, the pleasure overwhelming, and you're not sure how long it takes before the waves of ecstasy finally subside, your muscles relaxing and your body going limp beneath him.

He pulls away from you slowly, his lips lingering on your sex as he kisses you one final time, his tongue cleaning the remnants of your climax from your slit and inner thighs before moving upwards to lick his own fingers clean, the sight of which sends a jolt of arousal straight to your core.

When he's finished, he crawls up to lay next to you, pulling you close to him, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly, pressing a kiss on the top of your head. "You're so beautiful when you come. It's a shame you can't see it."

You're sure you've made the most embarrassing faces and sounds, and can't begin to fathom why it would be attractive to him at all. But the feeling of him holding you is comforting, the warmth of his body soothing, and you find yourself nodding weakly as he strokes your hair gently, his touch gentle yet firm, and he's so strong, and so solid, and he makes you feel safe and secure, and you know that nothing bad will happen to you as long as he's here, that you're protected from harm.

"Was it as good as you thought it would be?" he asks after a few minutes of silence, his tone light and playful.

"I didn't think I would end up screaming," you say quietly, burying your face into his chest. "How come you weren't screaming like that? It's unfair."

He laughs and kisses your sticky temple, his lips caressing your skin affectionately, and he hums thoughtfully as he considers your question. "I suppose I've had some experience."

"You have?"

"Mm." He tilts his head, and you wonder who he did these kinds of things with. It was probably a lot of people, considering how skilled he is. The thought of him touching other people like this sends a sharp pang of jealousy through you, and you can't help but feel a twinge of envy at the thought.

You try to ignore the bitter feeling in your chest and instead focus on the way he's holding you close to him, on the sound of his heartbeat beneath your ear, on the way he's caressing you with such gentleness and care.

"Is there anything else you'd like to try?" he asks after a while, and you lift your head to look at him, and he's smiling down at you, his dark lashes lowered, his pupils wide and dark, and the expression he's giving you is so full of adoration and desire that it makes your heart flutter.

"I suppose the only thing left is you putting it in?" you suggest hesitantly, not sure how he'll react to the idea of taking your virginity, but he only grins widely, and he rolls over on top of you, his weight settling between your thighs as he presses himself against you, and he kisses you deeply, passionately, and it makes you moan softly into his mouth as you wrap your arms around him.

"There's so much more to it than that, and I'll show you all of it," he whispers against your lips, his hips rocking gently against yours, and you can feel his cock, hard and thick between your legs, and it feels good, so good, and you can't wait any longer. "But first, let me give you a chance to catch your breath."

He rolls them over so you're on top now, your thighs splayed over his, and he leans forward to kiss you again, his hands running up and down your back soothingly.

"I don't want you to spend your day sore all over, so the sex will have to be postponed to a time where we can afford the time to be lazy," he says, and you nod, understanding his reasoning. It would be unwise to do anything that might hinder your ability to work later today.

"That's fair," you agree, running your fingers through his hair. "What can we do?"

"Let me teach you more," he suggests, and then he's pulling you closer to him, his mouth latching onto your neck, his tongue and teeth grazing your skin lightly. You tilt your head to give him better access, letting out a soft sigh as he sucks on your pulse point. His hands wander down to your hips, gripping them tightly before sliding around to cup your buttocks, squeezing them firmly. He's still hard beneath you, and the feeling of his erection rubbing against your inner thigh has your insides clenching in anticipation of what's to come.

He seems content just to touch you like this for now, though, his lips moving slowly from one side of your throat to the other, leaving trails of kisses along the way, his tongue tracing patterns on your flesh, his teeth nipping gently at random spots here and there. Every so much he pauses and looks up at you, eyelids half-closed and heavy-lidded, and the sight of him gazing up at you sends a shiver down your spine and makes heat pool between your legs once more.

He lays you down on the mattress, then sits back on his knees between your thighs, looking down at you with an intense hunger that has your breath hitching in your chest. His gaze travels over your body slowly, his pupils expanding as he takes in the sight before him, his lips parted just enough to show the tips of his teeth as he runs his hands along your sides and over your breasts, his thumbs brushing against your nipples teasingly.

The next second, you find yourself on your belly, Leon on top of you, the thick head of his shaft pressing against your slit, and he's rubbing himself along it in a slow, tantalizing rhythm, the friction sending little jolts of pleasure through your core.

"This is called," he says, pausing to kiss your shoulder, "intercrural."

You try to concentrate on his words, but finding it difficult as his length slides between your folds, the sensation making you gasp and arch beneath him. His cock is leaking, slicking the way for him as he continues to grind against you, his breath warm against your skin.

You shift to get him inside you, but he moves with you, his length never quite reaching your entrance. You groan in frustration, trying to lift your hips to meet his thrusts, but he simply pushes you back down into the bed with a chuckle.

"Leon, please," you whine, wriggling beneath him impatiently, and he laughs again, his fingers digging into your hip as he holds you steady.

"What do you think you need to do?"

"Ask nicely?"

"Nice try, but no. Do you remember what we’re doing?"

"Intercrural?"

"Yes. Good," he praises, rewarding you by pushing the tip inside you briefly before pulling out again. Your entire body shudders at the feeling of having him inside you, however briefly, and you push back against him eagerly, wanting more. "Up."

With a firm grip on your torso, he lifts you up so your back is flush against his chest, his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you in place, and he resumes grinding himself between your thighs, the new angle letting him slide deeper than before, and the pressure against your clit has you moaning loudly as he rocks against you, his other hand coming to your front to play with your nipples, rolling and pinching them between his fingers.

He's breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and his lips find your earlobe, nibbling on it as he grinds harder, his cock sliding between your folds faster, his hips snapping forward sharply, and the wet sounds of his shaft rubbing against the crevice between your tightly pressed thighs and sex is lewd and loud. The heat building within you is becoming unbearable, your body trembling with need, and you can't help but cry out as he continues to tease you, his fingers pinching and twisting your nipples mercilessly.

"Leon," you whimper, reaching behind you to clutch at his hair, and he growls low in his throat, his teeth biting down on your shoulder as he picks up the pace, his movements growing rougher and less controlled, and the head of his erection is bumping against your clit, and it's driving you mad with lust and desire.

"Saintess..." he groans in your ear, and then his hand slides lower to rub circles on your clit, the added stimulation sending you over the edge. "My Saintess... Fall with me. Fall with me!"

You whimper as you come, your body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, your vision blurring as stars dance across your eyelids. Your walls clamp down around nothing, and you can feel yourself clenching and spasming as your orgasm rips through you, your juices gushing out of you and coating his length in your essence. He keeps rubbing at your clit throughout, drawing out every last ounce of your release until there's nothing left, and then finally, his hips still against yours, his cock throbbing against the crevice of your thighs as he spills himself between them, coating your inner thighs in thick ropes of release.

He slumps forward on top of you, his weight heavy and comforting as his cock softens against you, and he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder blade, his breath warm against your skin. You lay there together for a while, both of you panting heavily as you come down from your highs, and you can feel his heart pounding against your back, its rhythm matching your own. Eventually, however, he rolls off you. He gets up and comes back with a damp cloth to wipe the stickiness between your legs, and the coolness feels heavenly on your overheated skin. Once he's done, he tosses the rag to the floor before climbing back into bed next to you.

"Bath?"

When you wake up again, Leon isn't next to you, but there is a note on his pillow that informs you he had to go to the border for urgent matters and will be gone for at least two days.

The note makes you want to curl back up under the covers and fall back asleep, but you can't. You have duties to attend to as the Lady of the house, and you can't afford to spend all day moping in bed. So instead, you drag yourself out from beneath the blankets, and stumble to the bathing chamber with a pep in your step, where you splash some water onto your face to wake yourself up.

You look at yourself in the mirror, studying the reflection staring back at you. Your hair is disheveled and messy, and there are dark circles under your red-rimmed eyelids. Leon told you he wouldn't push your body to its limits, but wrung every drop of pleasure he could from it, and it left you boneless and exhausted. Every muscle aches pleasantly, and every inch of your skin feels tender to the touch, especially where his bites have broken the surface.

But none of it matters. You've never been happier.

You finish dressing and make your way downstairs. You have several letters to write today, not only to keep the correspondence with Jill and Claire updated, but also with other ladies they've introduced you to. With each letter, you hope to expand your social network a little bit more, so you may form friendships beyond their group. You've been told to be careful about networking before branching out about investments and business deals by Jill, since men tend to take advantage of women who want to venture into those fields, something her mother warned them about. At least she trusts you enough to take things at a leisurely pace to test waters before jumping at every opportunity that presents itself.

Jill has even invited you to have lunch at her mansion and introduce you to more women involved in similar fields as soon as possible the next season, something you happily accepted.

Even though you're tired beyond belief, there's something almost electrifying coursing through your veins that leaves you feeling energetic despite your lack of rest. Gaining back that connection with Leon, now stronger than ever, has you elated to no end. If someone told you years ago that one night would change your life forever, you wouldn't believe them; now, however, it seems like the most natural thing in the world to experience this level of fulfillment and joy in life, because you never knew just how lonely you truly were until he stepped back into your life.

Leon is panicking.

It's a sensation he isn't accustomed to, not since his days of rigorous training, when his captain had drilled into him the importance of remaining calm on the battlefield. Panic had no place there. Fear had no place. In war, emotions were vulnerabilities—open wounds to be exploited. He had learned to close those wounds, to stitch them up tight and keep his composure, no matter the chaos surrounding him. For years, he had perfected the art of restraint, his face a mask of stoicism, his body a fortress of discipline.

But now, sitting in the dim interior of his carriage, away from the sanctuary of your presence, that fortress is crumbling.

His heart hammers in his chest, and his hands tremble where they rest on his thighs, clenched into fists. His pulse thrums in his ears, a deafening rush of blood that drowns out any sense of calm. It’s disorienting, this unshakable sense of losing control, of being unmoored from the anchor he had always relied on—himself.

His thoughts race, each one more torturous than the last. He can't stop them from spiraling, can't stop the rising tide of emotion that's threatening to break the dam he's worked so hard to maintain.

Fuck. He loves you. He’s loved you for as long as he can remember. Since that first moment when he had seen your face at the temple, luminous in the soft glow of the candles that surrounded you, bathed in the light of Ethelion's grace. He had been young then, just a boy, but even then, something had stirred inside him—a yearning, a devotion so pure, so all-consuming, that it felt like a divine calling. To protect you. To serve you. To worship you.

But never to love you. Not like this.

He hadn’t allowed himself to call it love, not in the beginning. It had been too dangerous, too close to sacrilege. How could a man like him—a knight, a mere mortal—dare to love someone chosen by the gods? He’d convinced himself, over and over again, that what he felt was nothing more than infatuation, a boyish admiration for a figure of holiness. He had to believe it. Anything else would have been unbearable.

Because to acknowledge the truth—that it wasn’t just devotion, that it wasn’t just admiration, that it was a deep, aching love—would mean admitting that you were forever out of reach. You weren’t just anyone. You belonged to something greater, something higher. A god. Ethelion. And Leon? He was allowed to stand beside you only as a protector, only as your shield. But never as your lover. Never as your equal.

And yet, despite all of that, despite the walls he had built around his heart, he had fallen. Harder than he could have ever imagined.

He’d done the unthinkable.

He’d claimed you.

The memory of last night surges forward, unbidden, vivid in his mind. The taste of your lips, the feel of your body pressed against his, the way you had called out his name—his name—as he brought you to the brink of pleasure. You, the Saintess, the epitome of purity and virtue, had wanted him, had given yourself to him. Willingly. No hesitation, no fear.

It had been everything he had ever wanted, everything he had ever denied himself. And it was wrong.

But it had also been the most right thing he had ever done.

Leon groans, running a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots as if he can pull the thoughts out of his head. He feels himself hardening again at the mere thought of you—the way your body had responded to him, the way you had looked at him, not with judgment or disappointment, but with trust. With desire.

And that terrifies him.

You trust him. You, the one person in the world who should be beyond reproach, beyond the reach of sin, had trusted him with your body, your heart, your soul. You had chosen him. And that trust, that willingness to let him in, is what scares him more than anything.

What if I break it?

That’s the question gnawing at him, the one that keeps replaying in his mind like a dark, endless loop. You gave yourself to him, fully and without reservation, and now he’s terrified of what that means. Terrified of what he’s already done.

Because he has defiled you, hasn’t he? He’s tainted you with his desires, with his need. You were meant to remain untouchable, a beacon of light, a symbol of all that was good and pure in the world. And now? Now you’re his.

He half-expects to be swallowed up by hell after that thought.

Fuck, he can’t stop thinking about it.

His breeches feel impossibly tight, and Leon curses under his breath. The heat of arousal courses through him, his body betraying him even now, when his mind is at war with itself. His thoughts shift, darker, hungrier. He remembers the way you had whispered his name, your voice soft and breathless, your body trembling beneath his touch. He remembers the look in your eyes—like you wanted to be consumed by him.

He wants that. He wants to make you his again, to feel your body wrapped around his, to hear you moan his name, to see you come apart beneath him. And the worst part? He knows you want it too.

He should be ashamed. He is ashamed. But there’s a deeper part of him, a part that he’s been trying to suppress for years, that whispers something different. It tells him that you’re his now, that you’ve always been his. And that he has every right to take what you offer. Every right to claim you, again and again, until the entire world knows that you belong to him and no one else.

The thought makes him groan again, low and desperate. He can already imagine it—the way you’d look beneath him, the way you’d whisper his name like a prayer, the way he’d ruin you, over and over, until there was nothing left of the saintess, nothing left of the woman you used to be.

Just his. His to worship. His to defile.

Leon shifts uncomfortably in his seat, willing his body to calm down, but it’s no use. The arousal is too strong, the desire too overwhelming. And it’s not just lust. It’s love. He loves you. He has always loved you. And now that he’s had a taste of what it’s like to be yours, to have you want him in return, he knows there’s no going back.

But even with that knowledge, the fear lingers. The shame lingers. Because you’re still the Saintess, aren’t you? Even though you’re no longer bound to the temple, even though you’ve left that life behind, you’re still... untouchable. Or at least, you should be.

God, what has he done?

Leon feels sick with it, the weight of his own desires pressing down on him like a vice. He’s tainted you, hasn’t he? He’s dragged you down into the mire of his own lust, his own sin. And yet... you came willingly. You wanted him. You chose him.

He can still hear your voice in his head, soft and soothing, telling him that it was okay. That it was what you wanted. That you weren’t ashamed. That you didn’t regret it.

But he does.

No, that’s not quite right. He doesn’t regret you. He could never regret you. What he regrets is his weakness. His inability to stay away, to be the man he’s supposed to be. The man you deserve. He should have kept his distance, should have respected the boundaries between you. But instead, he let his feelings control him. He let his desires control him.

The carriage jolts as it hits a bump in the road, and Leon’s breath catches in his throat, the movement jarring his already fevered body. He’s hard—painfully so—and the more he tries to suppress it, the more it overwhelms him. His hand is still resting dangerously close to his aching cock, blunt fingernails digging into his thigh as he tries to resist the temptation to touch himself.

He should be above this, he thinks bitterly.

Another bump causes his thumb to slip down towards the inside of his thigh because of the force with which he was pressing on it, the friction sending a shiver up his spine. Leon sucks in a sharp breath, his head tipping back against the seat.

Sir Leon, you had whispered during that night, your tone soft, commanding, with a cruel kindness that only made him more desperate. He’d been on his knees before you, trembling under the weight of his own shame, of his desire. And you had looked down on him with that serene, knowing smile, as though you had always known what he wanted, what he needed. You had given him permission to feel, to want, to submit.

He shudders, his hand brushing over the front of his breeches as the memory takes hold, the rush of arousal overwhelming his guilt. His mind drifts back to that night, to the way you had taken control, how you had made him feel safe in his submission. You had taken his hands in yours, guiding him through the motions, making him believe that it wasn’t him acting on his desires. It was you.

“Sir Leon,” your voice echoes in his head again, and Leon’s breath hitches as his fingers twitch involuntarily over the bulge in his pants. He tries to ignore it, to focus on the scenery passing outside the carriage window instead, but it’s no use.

His hand moves of its own accord, cupping himself through the fabric, the pressure making his hips jerk forward. He can feel himself growing harder, the ache intensifying. He shouldn’t do this. He can’t do this. He’s already defiled you enough. He should have more restraint.

In his mind’s eye, you stand before him again, the ex-Saintess, your hands on his shoulders, pushing him down until he’s kneeling in front of you. The image is so vivid, so real, that he can almost feel the warmth of your touch, the softness of your skin against his.

“Look at you,” you say softly, your tone so sweet it feels like a knife twisting in his gut. “Kneeling there like a dog for me. You’ve fallen so far, haven’t you? My Sir Leon…”

Leon lets out a choked breath, his hand moving to unbutton his breeches as he succumbs to the fantasy, his body trembling with need. His cock springs free, hard and throbbing in his hand, and he bites down on his lip to keep from groaning aloud. The carriage is still moving, the faint sounds of the wheels turning and the horses trotting providing a strange rhythm to his spiraling thoughts.

He strokes himself slowly, his mind lost in the fantasy, in the way you had looked at him that night with such grace and poise, your words cutting into him with a cruel, gentle precision. You had known exactly how to break him down, how to strip away his defenses until there was nothing left but the raw truth of his desires.

"How pathetic," you say in his fantasy in mock sympathy, your lips curling into a smile. "What would Ethelion think of you now? His most devout, debasing himself for me, stroking yourself like a common pervert. You’re not fit to call yourself a knight, Sir Leon."

He shudders, balls tightening as he imagines you standing over him, watching him with that amused, almost bored expression, like you’re barely interested in his suffering, in his need. It’s humiliating, degrading, but somehow that only makes the pleasure sharper, more intense. He can almost hear you laughing softly, a cruel, teasing sound that sends a shiver down his spine.

"Look at yourself," you say, dripping with scorn. "You’re a mess. A disgrace. You’re not worthy of serving me. Not like this."

The words cut into him like a blade, but instead of recoiling, Leon finds himself pushing closer to the edge, his breath coming in ragged gasps as his hand moves with a frantic urgency. He’s so close, so damned close, and your voice only pushes him further, deeper into the depths of his own shame and lust. He doesn’t care if Ethelion sees him like this, doesn’t care if the world sees him like this. He just wants to feel, to chase the high of release that only you can give him.

"You want to come, don’t you?" you ask him, and he nods, a choked sob escaping his lips as his strokes become more desperate. "There are people right outside of this carriage listening in to their lord shaking his hips like a dog in heat with his tongue out, and you want to come. You’re not even a man, you’re a slave to your own desires. A slave to me. Go ahead, Sir Leon. Make a mess of yourself. Show me how pathetic you truly are."

And he does, he begs and pleads for mercy, for relief. His hushed words are a jumbled, incoherent mess, a litany of pleas and apologies as his hips buck wildly, seeking that final release. You watch him with that same knowing smile, your eyes glittering with something like amusement, like satisfaction, and Leon can’t help but wonder if you’re enjoying this, if you’re reveling in the power you hold over him. The power to reduce him to this, to this desperate, needy creature, pleading for your mercy.

"Come," you command, your voice soft but firm, and Leon’s breath catches in his throat, his body tensing as the orgasm finally hits, a wave of ecstasy crashing over him as he spills his seed onto his cupped hand, his body shuddering and shaking with the force of his release.

For a moment, he feels weightless, euphoric, the world fading away until there’s nothing but the pleasure, the relief, the satisfaction of being broken down and rebuilt under your touch. He collapses back against the seat, his chest heaving, his skin slick with sweat as stares down at his hand, sticky with his own cum, and a wave of guilt washes over him, the shame so intense that it nearly chokes him. But even as he feels the guilt, the shame, there’s a small part of him that revels in it, that takes pleasure in being the broken, debased knight, the one who has fallen from grace and found solace in his own humiliation.

He sits there for a long moment, his breathing slowly returning to normal, the guilt and shame settling over him like a heavy cloak. With a sigh, he reaches into his satchel for a handkerchief, cleaning up the mess he’s made of himself, trying to erase the evidence of his sin, of his desire, of his submission. But no matter how much he tries to scrub away the stain, he knows that it’s there, a permanent mark on his soul, a reminder of the man he’s become.

He’s a sinner, a lost cause. But he’s also a man in love, a man willing to sacrifice everything, to debase himself, to surrender to you, his Saintess, his salvation and his downfall.

Leon arrives back at the manor well past midnight, the long hours of travel evident in the tightness of his shoulders and the way fatigue clings to his bones. He’s exhausted, mentally and physically, but the thought of seeing you again fills him with a strange mix of yearning and dread. After weeks spent at the border, surrounded by soldiers and the heavy tension of political unrest, all he wants is to be near you, to feel your presence.

The halls are silent as he walks through the dimly lit corridors, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows on the walls. His boots are heavy against the stone floor, but he keeps his steps quiet, not wanting to disturb the sleeping household. His thoughts race as he makes his way toward your shared bedroom, the weight of his emotions settling heavily in his chest. He’s been gone for so long, and every step brings him closer to the moment he’s been imagining for days.

When he finally reaches the door, Leon pauses, his hand resting on the doorknob as he takes a deep breath. He pushes the door open slowly, the hinges creaking softly in the quiet night, and steps inside, and the sight that greets him makes him linger on the threshold.

You’re curled up on the bed, fast asleep, the blankets twisted around you as though you’ve been tossing and turning. The soft rise and fall of your chest are a sign of peaceful slumber, face turned away from the moonlight spilling in through the window, the gentle curve of your body bathed in a soft glow. Drapes of rich fabrics adorn the canopy above you, creating an intimate space that wraps around you like a cocoon, making it appear as if you were held aloft, suspended in time. It's a painting come alive, the kind he'd seen in temples and palaces on a much grander scale, a testament of humanity's greatness. It makes him feel insignificant yet like a god among men to share his room, his life with you.

The sight makes his heart swell with affection, the worries and concerns that had been weighing him down giving way to something warm, something tender. He closes the door behind him carefully, not wanting to wake you, and begins to undress, shedding his clothes as quietly as possible until he's left only in his tunic and trousers.

As he slips into bed next to you, he lets out a contented sigh, exhaustion seeping into his bones. He feels restless and worn out in equal parts, but there's comfort too in having you so close. The warmth of your body radiates against him as he lies there, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest, marveling at the delicate curve of your jaw, the softness of your hair splayed out against the pillowcase.

He reaches out tentatively, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead, and you stir in your sleep, a soft murmur escaping your lips. His touch lingers on your skin for a moment before he withdraws his hand, not wanting to disturb your slumber. A small part of him wishes you were awake, that he could talk to you about the events at the border, but he pushes those thoughts away.

You stir again beside him, rolling over to lay on your side and facing away from Leon, and it feels as if he's somehow in the shadows away from the gaze of god, the moon, and the stars.

It starts small, innocent enough. His fingers barely graze the fabric of the blanket bunching around your waist, a featherlight touch, as if testing the waters. The warmth of your body seeps through the material, igniting a spark in his chest that quickly spreads, making his breath catch in his throat. He pulls his hand back, flexing his fingers as if he’d been burned, but the sensation lingers, ghosting over his skin.

What the fuck is he doing?

He squeezes his eyes shut again, trying to shake off the haze that clouded his thoughts, but the need only grows stronger. Listening for any changes in your breathing, making sure that you were deep asleep, he inches closer, the mattress dipping beneath his weight.

He's zeroed in on the bare skin of your shoulder where your chemise has slipped down. His hand moves again, slower this time, hovering just above, fingers trembling. He wasn’t touching you yet, but the proximity alone made his pulse quicken. He could feel the warmth radiating from your skin, so inviting, so tantalizingly close.

This isn't exactly wrong. I'm allowed to snuggle up to my wife.

The thought gives him permission, or at least that’s what he tells himself. He lets his fingers skim over your shoulder, the contact sending a jolt through him that makes him let out a long sigh. The softness of your skin beneath his fingertips is divine, the smoothness so different from anything he’s ever known. He can feel your warmth seeping into him, the gentle rise and fall of your breathing against his touch.

A small part of him knows he should pull away, that this was crossing a line, but the need was too strong, the desire too potent. He traces a finger along the line of your collarbone, marveling at the delicate curve, at how something so simple can make his heart race. He lets his hand rest at the crook of your neck, feeling the soft thump of your pulse beneath his palm. He can't help but think of the way your heart beats, how it's the same rhythm as his own, and how this shared lifeblood connects him to you in ways he never thought possible.

You shift again, humming something incomprehensible, and Leon freezes, his heart pounding in his chest. But you don't wake, and after a moment, he relaxes again, his fingers resuming their gentle exploration.

He lets his hand drift lower, tracing the dip between your collarbones, the hollow of your throat, the slope of your sternum. The fabric of your chemise shifts beneath his touch, the material so thin that it feels like almost nothing at all. He can feel the swell of your breasts, the way they rise and fall with each breath, and he aches to cup them in his hands, to feel the weight of them, the softness.

Fuck. Fuck.

He bites back a groan, his cock growing uncomfortably hard in his trousers. He wants you so badly it hurts, wants to bury himself in you, to claim you in every way possible. But he holds himself back, contenting himself with these small, stolen touches, the ones that make him feel alive and terrified all at once.

He's so hard that it almost hurts, and he wants to grind his hips against you to relieve the pressure building inside him. But the thought of taking things that far, of crossing that line without your knowledge or consent, makes him recoil from himself.

No. This isn’t right. It’s not right at all. You’re better than this, Leon.

With a sigh, he withdraws his hand, pulling away from you reluctantly. The absence of your warmth leaves him feeling cold and empty, but he knows he's done the right thing. He rolls over onto his back, his body rigid with tension as he stares at the ceiling, trying to ignore the throbbing of his cock and the ache in his chest.

He closes his eyes, taking deep, measured breaths, willing himself to calm down.

He tries to focus on the sound of the wind outside, the creaking of the old house as it settles in the night, the distant hoot of an owl somewhere in the forest. But no matter how hard he tries to distract himself, the image of you—soft, vulnerable, trusting—is seared into his mind.

Yeah, he needs a bath.

Careful not to disturb you, Leon pushes himself up out of bed and pads across the room, the cool floorboards soothing against his bare feet. He opens the door, the hinges weakly creaking, and slips out of the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

The corridor is dark and silent, the only light coming from the faint glow of the moon filtering in through the windows. He makes his way down the stairs, his footsteps echoing softly in the stillness, and heads to the bathing chambers.

Once inside, Leon lights the candles, illuminating the room in a warm, flickering light. The room is spacious and luxurious, with a large tub of gleaming marble and an assortment of bottles filled with fragrant oils and soaps. He walks to the wooden bucket and pumps water, the rhythmic sound of the handle filling the room, and once it's full, he pours the water into the tub, letting the steam curling off the surface fog his face and warm his skin.

He strips off his clothes, his muscles tensing as he feels the cool air against his heated flesh. He can't ignore his erection, the way it throbs and aches with a desperate need.

He steps into the tub, hissing at the sensation of hot water against his skin. He sinks down into it, submerging his body until only his head remains above water, and he lets out a sigh of relief. The heat soothes his tired muscles, relaxes his tense shoulders, and he feels himself drifting, his thoughts becoming hazy and unfocused.

He closes his eyes, trying to ignore the insistent throb of his cock, the way it strains against his stomach, demanding attention. He tries to focus on the sensation of the water against his skin, the way it licks at his flesh, caresses him, but his mind keeps wandering back to you. To the soft curve of your shoulder, the way your skin felt against his fingertips, the warmth of your body so close to his.

The marble of the bath feels cool against his nape as he rests his head on the rim, the heat from the bath causing sweat to bead on his brow and dampening his hair. His breath echoes off the walls of the bathing chamber, the sound of the water sloshing gently against the sides of the tub providing a soothing background noise. But even that can't drown out the insistent throb of his arousal, the way it pulses with each heartbeat, demanding attention, demanding release.

He ends up dipping under, the water enveloping him, and he opens his eyes, staring up at the distorted image of the ceiling through the rippling surface. His hair floats around his face, and he feels weightless, suspended between the reality of his desire and the fantasy of his mind. It feels like an eternity passes, his lungs burning as his heart thrums, and just when he thinks he can't hold his breath any longer, he resurfaces with a gasp.

He combs his fingers through his wet hair, pushing it away from his face, and—

"You're back."

He startles, jerking upright and causing the water to slosh around wildly, his heart hammering wildly in his chest as he turns to face you.

You're standing there in the doorway of the bathhouse, your silhouette outlined in the candlelight, and there's a look on your face that he can't quite read. You seem surprised to see him there, your eyes wide and bright, reflecting the flickering flames. Your lips are parted slightly, as if you're about to say something, but the words seem caught in your throat.

He can't help but admire the way you look in the dim light, the soft curves of your body visible through the sheer fabric of your nightgown. His eyes linger on the way the material clings to your hips, draping over your thighs and accentuating every movement as you step further into the room. He has to force himself to tear his gaze away from the outline of your breasts, the delicate swell of them drawing his attention despite his efforts to remain respectful. He's suddenly aware of his own nakedness, of the way the water licks at his skin, the way it exposes him to you in a way that makes his breath catch and his pulse quicken. He tries to sink lower in the bath, hoping that the water will hide his body, his desire, but it's no use.

"Why did you come all the way over here? We have our own bath," you say quietly, sitting down on a stool and leaning against the edge of the tub, resting your chin on your folded arms. The fabric of your nightgown shifts slightly, revealing the bare skin of your shoulder, and his eyes are drawn to it like moths to a flame. He's acutely aware of how close you are, of the way he can reach out and touch you, the way he can smell the faint scent of soap and perfume on your skin from your nightly bath. He wants to lean in closer, to bury his face in the crook of your neck and inhale your scent, but he holds himself back, his muscles tensing with the effort.

He swallows hard, trying to find his voice, the sound echoing off the walls of the bathhouse. "I didn't want to disturb your rest."

There's a beat of silence, the sound of dripping water and crackling candles filling the space between you. Your gaze is steady, unyielding, as if you can see right through his flimsy excuses and straight into his heart. And maybe you can, because you've always been able to read him like an open book, ever since that day in the temple gardens when you found him as a young boy, struggling to breathe through an asthma attack and crying from the fear of dying.

"You're not doing a very good job at that," you finally say, the corner of your mouth quivering in a wry smile that makes his chest tighten and his pulse race. You know him too well, know all his secrets and fears, and yet you're here, sitting beside him in the bathhouse, offering him comfort and companionship.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. And he is sorry, sorry for waking you, sorry for being so distracted, so consumed with thoughts of you that he can't seem to think straight anymore.

"Don't be," you reply, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. Your touch is gentle, tender, and it makes him ache with longing. "I missed you."

His eyes flutter close when you start carding your fingers through his hair. It feels so good to be close to you again, to be touched by you in such a simple, affectionate way that he can't help but savor it. But then his thoughts wander again, imagining you in the bath with him, your naked bodies pressed together, the water lapping at your skin as you move against him. He can picture it all too vividly, the way your breasts would feel against his chest, the way your legs would wrap around his waist as he thrust into you, the way your voice would sound in the stillness of the night, gasping and moaning in his ear. He shudders, biting back a groan, and tries to push those images away, but they cling to the corners of his mind like shadows.

"You're so tense," you observe, your fingers still moving through his hair, and there's a hint of concern in your voice.

"It's...it's nothing," he lies, trying to sound casual, but his voice comes out strained and breathless.

"Too tired, huh? Let me wash your hair. Can you hand me that?"

He hesitates for a moment, the water swirling around him, his heart pounding in his chest. Then, slowly, he reaches over the edge of the tub, grabs the bar of soap, and hands it to you. You dip the soap into the water and rub it together in the palms of your hands until suds form. You begin to work the soap into his scalp, massaging it in slow circles, your fingers firm but gentle against his skin. His eyes drift shut, his body relaxing under your touch.

The feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp is almost unbearable, and the way you're looking at him, with so much affection and tenderness, makes him feel weak. He can't remember the last time someone has touched him like this, with such care and intimacy.

"This is lily soap," you muse, your fingers continuing their slow, deliberate movements. "Did you know these were on the brink of extinction in the capital for a while that I thought I could only find one on an auction or something? Fun fact, when you're a maid, you wash both yourself and your clothes with the same soap, so it has a shorter lifespan. But even with that it was so jarring to find out store after store and apothecary after apothecary didn't have this. I wasted an entire off-day running around to find a bar of soap that the next day it was like I worked on a construction for a week. It's funny to think how I used to have to be so careful in not wasting even the tiniest bit, and now I can have a whole basket to myself."

Leon listens to you talk, his mind foggy. He's never washed with your signature smell before, and now it's clinging to his hair and skin like a second layer. It's like you've somehow claimed him as yours without even realizing it. The scent is so strong that he can almost taste it, and it's making him lightheaded in a way that has nothing to do with the steam from the bath. His scalp tingles, and he has to fight back a groan when your fingertips brush against the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

He wants to tell you how much he's missed you, how he thought about you every day while he was away, how he's been longing to feel your touch again. But the words catch in his throat, and all he can do is sink further into the tub, letting the hot water envelop him as you continue to wash his hair and entertain yourself by twirling strands into shapes and figures, or perhaps just to play with it.

"Don't fall asleep, now," you say with a laugh, splashing water on him.

"I won't," he murmurs, but his eyelids are already growing heavy, the warmth and comfort lulling him into a drowsy haze.

"You're not very convincing," you tease, your voice low and soft, like velvet. "I can see those eyes closing. What's so interesting about a bathtub's rim anyway?"

He opens his eyes to look at you. Your face is hovering upside down from his perspective, and you're giving him a small smile that tugs at the corners of your lips. There's a playful glint in your eyes, like you're enjoying teasing him. He can't help but smile back, feeling a surge of affection for you.

You lean down to give him a chaste kiss, your hair falling in curtains around him, your mouth warm and sweet against his, "I'm going to wash this off, alright?"

He closes his eyes as you begin to rinse his hair, the water cascading over his head in a soothing rhythm. The scent of the soap fills his nostrils, and he can't help but breathe it in, letting it envelop him like a warm blanket.

"Alright, I'm done," you announce, your hands moving to massage his shoulders. "Feeling better, Leon?"

"Much better," he murmurs, his voice low and soft, his eyes still closed. "You're too good to me." He can't remember the last time someone has taken care of him like this, with such care and tenderness. It's a feeling that he's not used to, but one that he finds himself craving more of.

"Let's get you to bed, then."

He opens his eyes to find you standing beside the tub, a towel in hand. He stands up slowly, the water cascading off his body in rivulets, his skin flushed from the heat and the attention. As he steps out of the tub, you immediately wrap the towel around his hips, pulling him close to you. He's acutely aware of his nakedness, of the way his skin presses against the thin fabric of your nightgown, of the heat radiating between your bodies.

You move another towel in small circles across his arms, his shoulders, his chest, the fabric soft and absorbent as it soaks up the water from his skin. Droplets from his hair trail down his neck, and you follow them with the towel, pressing it against the back of his neck and gently patting it dry, your fingers soothing against the damp curls that cling to his skin. He can't help but shiver at your touch, his breath catching in his throat as you work your way down his body, your movements slow and deliberate, like you're savoring the moment as much as he is.

"Turn around for me," you instruct, and he complies, his skin tingling with anticipation as you start to dry his back, the towel gliding over his skin like a soft caress. You move the towel down, tracing the lines of his muscles and the curve of his spine, and his heart races as you reach his hips, the towel brushing against the edge of the one wrapped around his waist. He can feel your fingers slipping underneath the edge of the fabric. It's harmless on your part, but he's so sensitive to your every touch that he has to bite his lip to keep from groaning out loud.

And his erection had just gone down as well.

"All done," you say, your voice soft and a little breathless. He can feel the warmth of your body as you move around to his front, your eyes lingering on his chest for just a moment. "I didn't think to bring a bathrobe instead. It's a bit of a walk to the room, would you mind if I go and get it now?"

"It's fine," he murmurs, his voice low and a little rough. "I can handle a little cold."

It takes every ounce of willpower not to take advantage of the situation. Not because he doesn't want to — God knows he does — but because you deserve better than some desperate coupling in the bathhouse. It's going to be your first time with each other, and even though your body isn't technically new to him, he won't make it uncomfortable for you, not when you haven't actually been together. You should be somewhere familiar, comfortable, with sheets clean and soft enough to let you drift off afterward, wherever sleep may take you both. You've deserved better than what life has given you so far, so damn right he'll deliver on the bare minimum.

The night air is cool against his skin as you lead him from the bathroom. The corridors are quiet and shadowed, and there's something oddly intimate about walking naked through the sleeping castle with only you by his side. You don't speak, but he doesn't need words to know what you're thinking; your hand clasped tightly in his says more than anything else could.

It doesn't go according to his subconscious expectations, though, as he finds himself sitting on the edge of the bed and you between his legs, furiously drying his hair while he's trying to avoid getting hard. He has to say that the vigorous motion of your arms is helping his case.

He's not sure if he imagines it or if he actually hears the small, suppressed giggle.

"You look like a sheep," you say, and now he's certain the amusement in your tone isn't imagined. You reach down to press your lips to his temple, the sensation of the towel on his head halting abruptly, and he's left staring up at you as you straighten.

Before he can think better of it, his arms sneak around your waist and pull you closer until his head is resting against your stomach. You don't hesitate in wrapping your own arms around his bare shoulders in return, holding him close, and the two of you just breathe together for a moment.

"Thank you," Leon murmurs after a long pause, his voice muffled by the fabric of your nightgown. He's not sure what he's thanking you for exactly, but it's the only thing he can say. You've taken such good care of him tonight, made him feel loved and cared for in a way that he hasn't experienced, and he's not sure how to express that gratitude in words. But the way you hold him tight tells him that you understand.

He lifts his head to look at you, and he's struck by the beauty and affection in your gaze. It's the kind of love that he's dreamed of his entire life, the kind of love that fills his soul with light. And for the first time in his life, he realizes that he doesn't have to dream anymore. He can reach out and touch it, feel it, hold it in his hands.

You reach up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, and the feeling yanks him from the edge of sleep. "Do you want to sit in front of the fireplace?" you ask him. "Or would you rather just go straight to bed?"

"Stay," Leon says, his voice thick with emotion. He doesn't want this night to end, doesn't want to let you go just yet. He needs more of you, more of this warmth and love that you're offering him. One arm unhooks from around your waist and he trails a path down your forearm, his palm closing on the back of your arm as he turns his head around to rest his lips on the inside of your wrist. His eyes never leave yours as he speaks. "I want to stay here a little longer with you."

"Alright." You nod, and then your hand is trailing up his neck, your palm coming up to cup his cheek, fingers tracing the line of his cheekbone and then the edge of his ear. His eyes roll to the back of his head, and his throat works to suppress a shudder. He can feel your gaze on him like a brand. "Let me just... get this off of you."

You reach up and pull the towel from his head, tossing it onto the ground behind you, and your fingers comb through his damp hair. He's never realized how good it feels, how much he craves the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp, the way you scratch your nails lightly against his skin, the way you tug on the strands to angle him how you want.

"Will you take me tonight?"

Your voice is low and husky, full of desire, and Leon can't help but let out a groan, his fingers digging into the fabric of your chemise, bunching it up as he tries to maintain control. His cock is fully erect again, straining against the towel still wrapped around his hips, and he's so turned on, so desperate for you that it takes all of his willpower not to push you onto the bed and take you right then and there.

"Are you sure? I know this is your first time, and we can wait, take things slow—"

"I want this." One knee goes on the side of his left thigh, making the mattress dip. And then the other, and then you're straddling him, hands cupping his face as you press your lips to his, the kiss slow and languid. Leon melts into your embrace, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer until there's no space left between you. The taste of a sweet treat is on your tongue, something fruity, perhaps a dessert wine, and he chases it, wanting more. "I love you, Leon," you whisper against his lips, and he can feel your breath fanning across his face. "I want you to make me yours."

Those words are like a key, unlocking something deep inside Leon.

"You love me?" he repeats, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye.

"Yes." You nod, your hands still cradling his face, your touch gentle and loving. You look at him like he's the center of your universe, your eyes shining with affection and desire, "Yes," you breathe out, your fingers trailing down his neck to rest on his chest, right where his heart is beating wildly beneath his ribcage. "How can I not?"

"God," Leon murmurs, his voice low and rough with emotion, "I've dreamed of hearing you say that for so long, I—" His throat tightens, cutting off his words, and he pulls you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent, and he can feel your pulse against his lips. He can't believe this is real, that he has you here in his arms, that you want him just as much as he wants you. He can feel your heartbeat, the way your chest rises and falls with each breath, the warmth of your body seeping into his bones, and it's all so overwhelming that he can't hold back the emotions that flood him. "I love you too," he whispers, his voice breaking, and he presses a kiss to your collarbone, feeling your skin warm and soft against his lips. "I love you so much."

Your fingers are in his hair, tangling and pulling as he leaves a trail of kisses up the column of your neck. His teeth scrape against the sensitive skin behind your ear, and he feels you shudder in his arms, your breath quickening. "I can't believe you let me pull you down from Ethelion's arms," he says, his voice muffled as he sucks on the lobe, tongue dipping into the crevices, the heat between you making him dizzy. His hands roam over your body, tracing the curves of your hips, your waist, the dip of your spine. "No... I can't believe you willingly fell for me. That you're here. That you're mine."

"Always," you whisper, your nails scratching against his scalp, and Leon groans, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. Your touch is electric, sending sparks of pleasure through his body, and he can't get enough of you, can't stop touching you, tasting you, feeling you pressed up against him. "I have always been yours."

You tilt your head, baring your neck, and Leon is powerless to resist. He bites down on your shoulder, leaving a mark, and you gasp, your body arching into his. "So beautiful," Leon says, his words coming out in a low growl, and he's almost embarrassed by how animalistic he sounds, but he can't bring himself to care, not when you're looking at him with so much desire, so much love. You're perfect like this, with your hair disheveled, your lips swollen from kissing, and your eyes glazed over with want.

"Then why do you keep me waiting, my lord husband?" you whisper, and Leon can't help but smile at the teasing tone in your voice, the way you're challenging him, daring him to take what he wants.

"Because I want to make this good for you," he murmurs, his hand slipping under the hem of your chemise, his fingers dancing along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You shiver, and he can feel the muscles in your legs tensing as he gets closer and closer to your center, but he's in no rush, and he wants to make this last. "You need to be ready to take me."

"I am," you say with a breathy moan, and Leon can feel your wetness as his fingers glide against your entrance. He's been dreaming about this for weeks, fantasizing about what it would feel like to be inside you, to feel your warmth enveloping him, and he's not going to rush things now. He wants to make sure you're as ready as you claim to be, wants to make this experience as pleasurable for you as possible.

He can't wipe the smile off of his face. "In spirit, maybe. But I need to open you up first. I don't want to hurt you."

He can see the uncertainty in your eyes, the way you bite your lower lip, and it's endearing, but also a little heartbreaking. You're so young, so inexperienced, and he wants to make sure that your first time is everything you deserve, that it's perfect in every way.

"Don't hold back," you whisper, and it's a plea, a request that makes his heart swell. You're saying that without even knowing what that truly entails, but he's not going to question it, not now when he has you in his arms, when you're so willing, so eager. "I want all of you, Leon. Please."

And who is he to deny you?

He stands, lifting you with him. The towel hanging on for its life around his hips drops to the floor, and he can feel your eyes on him, on the way his muscles flex and strain as he moves you to lay on your back in the center of the bed, the soft mattress cradling your body. He climbs onto the bed, kneeling between your spread legs, his cock jutting out from his hips, hard and heavy. Leon reaches down and takes hold of the hem of your chemise, lifting it slowly, his eyes devouring every inch of skin that's revealed to him, the way your stomach tenses as the air hits it, the way your chest heaves with each breath you take. He leaves it bunched right underneath your breasts and wraps his fingers around the waistband of your drawers, tugging them down, down, until you're completely bared before him.

"Look at you," Leon breathes, and there's wonder in his voice, reverence, as if you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and he's trying to memorize every curve, every freckle, every inch of your skin. He runs his hands up your legs, parting them further, and you tremble. He's basking in the pride of your body responding to his touch like a flower opening to the sun.

“I want you to relax,” he whispers, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

His fingers trace a path from your ankle to your knee, the muscles in your thighs tensing, and his touch is feather-light as he reaches the apex between your legs, the place that's already wet and aching for him. He teases you, his thumb circling your clit, "I know how good this feels for you. But we need to get you used to being penetrated. I'm going to start with my fingers. Is that okay?"

"Yes," you gasp, and there's no hesitation, no doubt, just a desperate need for him.

"That's my girl," he murmurs, and his voice is thick with desire, with love, as he presses a kiss to your forehead. "So brave. So perfect. So beautiful."

His fingers slide between your folds, and he's slow, deliberate, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches your reaction, the way your mouth opens, the way your eyelids flutter shut, the way you shift around on the bed, your hips arching towards him, wanting more, always more. He pushes one finger inside of you and you sigh, your walls clenching around him, and he can't help but hiss in response, his own pleasure mounting, his cock throbbing as he imagines what it will feel like to sink inside you, to feel your heat, your slickness, your tightness.

He watches you closely, looking for any sign of discomfort as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of you, the tight walls of your cunt gripping it like a vise. It's not long before he adds the second one, stretching you further, and he curls them both inside you and searches around.

"Fuck," Leon mutters under his breath as the tips of his fingers come into contact with a patch of slightly roughened skin and your body jerks like you've been struck by lightning, your hand shooting down to wrap around his wrist in an iron grip. "There," he says, and there's a smugness in his voice, a satisfaction, as if he's discovered a secret treasure that only he can access. "Found it." He rubs his fingers over that spot again, and you writhe beneath him, your grip on his wrist tightening even further.

"Leon," you whine, and there's a note of desperation in your voice, a need that makes him shudder. He leans down, pressing his lips against the side of your knee as he hooks it over his shoulder.

"I've got you," he murmurs against your skin, and there's a promise in those words, a vow that he intends to keep as he starts to fuck you with his fingers, slow and steady, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit, rubbing circles into it in time with the thrusts of his hand. Your grip on his wrist tightens even further, the bones grinding together in your grip, and it's only through sheer force of will that he manages to keep a slow pace. "Can you try to loosen your grip a bit, love? You have quite a vice grip there. You'll break my wrist if you're not careful." You whimper and ease the grip a bit. "There you go. Don't be afraid to feel it. Talk to me, let me know how this feels."

"It's..." You gasp, and your hips jerk up, trying to take him deeper, your walls clenching around his fingers as if you're afraid he'll take them away. "Not enough. More, Leon. Please." You're panting, your chest rising and falling, and he can hear the desperation in your voice, the way it cracks and wavers, and it only fuels his own desire, his own need to take you, to make you his, to make you come undone. "Up. Touch up."

"I need you to focus on the feeling inside," he instructs, and there's a hint of a command in his voice, a firmness that you're not used to from him, but it's not unkind, not harsh, just insistent. He knows you mean your clit, and eases off the pressure. "I don't want you to focus on the outside right now. Just on how this feels." His fingers crook and curl inside of you, and you whimper, your head falling back against the pillow, your eyes squeezing shut. "Can you do that?"

You nod, a shuddering sigh escaping your lips, and he can feel your walls fluttering around his fingers, gripping and releasing.

"I can't with this," you whine, and you sound wrecked and frustrated, your words almost slurring together. You release his hand to grab at the pillow behind you, your knuckles white as you grip the fabric. "It's not enough." Leon chuckles. He knew it would take some time to make you come like this, but that's half the fun. He wants to watch you struggle and squirm as he takes his time, opening you up for what's to come. He wants to savor every second of this, wants to make you feel as much pleasure as possible.

"I suppose I can indulge you, just a little," Leon murmurs and presses his thumb against your protruding clit. "I want you to tell me when you're about to come. Focus on what your cunt's doing." He's rewarded with another shudder and a broken whimper as he rubs slow circles over your clit, his fingers still thrusting inside you. "And remember to breathe. You need oxygen to come."

You do as he instructs, taking deep, shuddering breaths, and he can feel the way your body relaxes, the tension in your muscles easing as you let him guide you through the pleasure. Your hips begin to rock in time with the thrusts of his fingers, and he can see the way your toes are curling, your heels digging into the bed. You're close, he can feel it, the way your walls are fluttering, gripping him, trying to keep him inside.

"Leon," you moan, and your voice is so full of need that it sends a jolt of desire straight to his groin, making it throb. "It's... I'm going to... Please, don't stop."

He leans down and presses his lips to yours, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss that's more teeth and tongue than finesse, his fingers never stopping, his thumb still rubbing mercilessly against your clit, "Let me see you fall apart."

As if on cue, you shatter beneath him, your back arching off the bed, your hips lifting up as you come, a guttural cry tearing from your throat, and he swallows it, his mouth still on yours, drinking in the sound of your pleasure. He keeps moving his fingers, drawing out your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure until you're twitching and gasping, your body writhing beneath him.

"So beautiful," he murmurs against your lips, his voice ragged with his own desire.

He doesn't let you come down, doesn't let you catch your breath. Instead, he continues to work his fingers inside of you without touching your clit, taking that orgasm to associate it to what his fingers are doing. He wants you to come on his fingers, wants to teach your body to respond to his touch in this way, and he's not going to stop until you do.

"I can't," you gasp, your hand coming up to press against his chest, trying to push him away, to create some distance between your bodies, but he doesn't let you, doesn't relent, his fingers still working you open, stretching you wide. "Leon! Ah, it's too sensitive! Too much!"

"Shhh," Leon soothes, and there's a note of authority in his tone, a command that he doesn't realize slips through. His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing over your lower lip, and your mouth parts, a soft moan escaping. "You can, and you will. I'm going to take care of you. I want to see you come apart on my fingers. Can you do that for me? Only from my fingers? Not from the outside?" He presses a kiss to your temple, and your breath stutters, your eyes squeezing shut. "I'll stop if you really can't handle it. I know it's a lot, but I promise, it'll feel so good if you let it."

"I don't know if I can," you whisper, and there's a note of fear in your voice, a hesitation that he understands. You've never done this before, never had someone touch you like this, never had someone take you to the edge and then hold you there, dangling over the precipice, and he's asking you to trust him, to let him take control, to let him guide you.

"You can, I'll get you there," he assures you, his voice soft and gentle, and his fingers never stop moving, never stop stroking, never stop stretching. "Listen, you hear that? How wet you are? That's your body's way of telling us you're ready for more. You're taking it so well. Just try to relax, and let me show you what your body's capable of."

A third finger teases at your entrance, and you whimper, your hips canting up to meet his touch, your body responding to him in a way that he knows is instinctual, primal. You're so wet that his fingers are practically dripping with your juices, the sound of your cunt squelching obscenely with each thrust, and it's music to his ears. "Gods," you gasp, your head falling back, your neck exposed, and he can't resist the temptation to lean down and nip at the sensitive skin there, to suck a mark that will bloom on your skin like a brand.

"It's just me in here with you," he murmurs against your neck, his breath hot against your skin, his words a whisper of reassurance and encouragement, and you shiver, your body trembling beneath him, as if you're trying to hold on to his words, to let them anchor you, ground you. He has to hold you down with his body weight to keep you from thrashing and bucking too much, the pressure on your clit gone and you can't grind up against him to get the relief you need. "Just us in here. No God. Just my fingers. Just focus on what my fingers are doing. Can you feel how wide they're stretching you?" He nips at your earlobe, and then soothes the sting with a swipe of his tongue.

"Oh, god..." you moan, your voice low and ragged, your hands fisting in the sheets beside you, your knuckles white as you cling to the fabric.

"No God," Leon repeats, and there's a dark satisfaction in his tone, a possessiveness that you can feel in every fiber of your being. "I'm not going to let you rely on Him. I'm the one who's going to take care of you from now on."

One kiss mark on the side of your neck turns into another, and another, and soon, he's sucking bruises into your skin, marking you as his, claiming you in a way that goes far beyond the physical. He wants to leave his mark on every inch of your skin, to erase every trace of Ethelion's influence, to make sure that you know that choosing Leon meant choosing to fall to his level, not the God who abandoned you. And when you're covered in his love bites, when you're writhing and gasping, your body shaking with need, he'll move on to the next patch of unblemished skin, and start all over again. Because for all the shame and guilt he felt for tainting you, he can't help but feel a dark thrill at the thought of corrupting you further, of showing you pleasures that you've never known before. Plucking an angel from Heaven and making them his. This is his worship. This is what he wanted to do all along.

"Leon!" You cry out his name like a prayer, and it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard, the desperation and need in your voice like a siren song that he can't resist. There's hardly any resistance against his fingers, you're so soft inside, and you're so wet that his hand is drenched in your slick, his palm starting to rub against your clit, the heel of his hand putting just the right amount of pressure there to keep you teetering on the edge, but not enough to send you tumbling over. He wants to keep you here, in this place of pure sensation, where there is nothing but him and his touch, his love, his desire. "Oh, God... please, please... Please, no more, I can't do this, let me off, please, let me..."

"Beg for me more," Leon groans against your neck, and his voice is rough, his own need pressing insistently against the mattress, and he can feel the way his cock is throbbing, the way his balls are aching, and he can't ignore it anymore, can't resist the urge to take his own pleasure in hand, his hips grinding against the bed as he fucks himself against the mattress, head buried against your neck as he licks and bites his way up to your ear. "Tell me what you need."

"I can't," you sob, and the tears are flowing freely down your cheeks now, and he's mesmerized by them, by the way they shimmer in the candlelight, and he catches one on his tongue, the taste of your sorrow and desperation mingling with the salt of your sweat, and he wants to devour you, wants to swallow you whole. "Let me come, Leon, please, let me... I need it, I need you, I need you to make me yours, please, please..."

He kisses you, hard and deep, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to claim every inch of you, and you moan into the kiss, your hips bucking up against his hand, and he knows that you're so close, that you're right on the edge, and just in time, he takes all pressure away from your clit and focuses everything on your insides, his fingers pumping in and out of you, and you're so wet, so tight, so perfect, and he can't get enough of you, can't get enough of the way you feel, the way you taste, the way you sound as you call out his name, for him to let you come, to give you what you need.

"I'm not going to let you come from the outside," he says, and he's panting too, his own desire clawing at him, the sheets below him damp with pre-come as he grinds his hips against them, his cock seeking relief, but he denies himself, because he wants this to last, wants to make sure you're thoroughly satisfied before he even thinks of his own release. "You need to come on my fingers, need to get your cunt to associate this with an orgasm. Come on, baby. Come for me. I know you can. You're doing so well, you're being so good, you need to breathe," he reminds you, and you do, your chest heaving as you gasp for air, your nails digging into his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin, and he welcomes the pain, revels in it, because it's a reminder that you're here, that you're his. "That's it. Just let go and let it happen. I'm here. I've got you. I'll always have you."

"I love you, I love you," you chant, like a litany, like a prayer, and it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard, the words falling from your lips like a benediction, and he can't help but groan, his own need pushing him to the brink, his hips grinding harder. "Please, please, please—"

Your voice breaks off in a keening wail as your body goes rigid, your back arching off the bed, your head thrown back in ecstasy, your mouth open in a silent scream as you come, your cunt clenching around his fingers, your thighs shaking, your heels digging into the mattress as you ride out the waves of pleasure. And he can feel it, the way your walls flutter and pulse around his fingers, the way your body grips him, and he's so close, so close, so fucking close...

"That's my good girl," Leon grunts against your neck, his own breath coming in ragged gasps as he continues to thrust his fingers into you, prolonging your orgasm, drawing it out until you're limp and trembling beneath him. "That's it. Let go. Give in to it. Give me everything."

He milks you for every last bit of pleasure, and when you're finally spent, your body lax and boneless beneath his, he kisses you again, softer this time, his lips gentle against yours.

"You're so perfect," Leon whispers, and he means it, he means it with every fiber of his being, because you are, you're everything he's ever wanted, ever dreamed of, ever imagined. "I knew you could do it. I knew you were a good girl. You were so good for me, so perfect, and I'm so proud of you, so proud of you for letting go and trusting me. You did so well."

"Leon..." His name is a whisper on your lips, a plea, a prayer, and he cups your jaw, nestles your chin in the slope between his thumb and pointer, and pushes your head back to kiss you again, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to claim every inch of you. You're exhausted, spent, your body limp and heavy, but you still manage to wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close, and he can feel the way your heart is still racing, your pulse fluttering like a captured bird. Your tongue can't quite reciprocate the movement of his, and he can taste the exhaustion, the way it's settled into your muscles, made them weak. "I love you," you breathe against his lips, and he's sure his heart is about to burst, it's so full of joy and adoration and love.

"I love you too," he murmurs, and he means it, he means it more than he's ever meant anything in his life. His hand is still between your legs, cupping your sex, his fingers still buried inside you, and he feels the reaction those words elicit, "Fuck, you want more, huh? Even though you're exhausted." You nod, expression woozy and slackened, and he smiles, his lips curving up against yours. "I can feel you clenching down on me, even though I'm barely moving my fingers. I wonder if we should see if you can have another one like this, on my cock this time. Do you think you can do it?" He pulls back, and you blink slowly, eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure, lips swollen from his kisses. Your shoulders, neck and collarbones all littered with bruises and bite marks.

"Yes," you say without hesitation, without a single doubt, and it's a miracle that he can even think straight, that he can focus enough to move his hand, to slide his fingers out of you. Your slick clings to them, a thin string connecting you to him before he smears it all over his length, the slide of his palm against the shaft as he coats it making him groan and his hips stutter. "Please. Please, Leon, I need you inside me."

He's never heard anything so sweet, so perfect, and he's powerless to resist you, helpless in the face of your desire. "Anything you want," he murmurs, and he means it, he means it more than anything he's ever said before.

His hands have a faint tremble to them as he helps you out of your nightgown, baring the upper side of your body to him completely. The jarring difference between the marked skin from the clavicle up and the blank canvas of your chest makes his dick twitch in anticipation, and he licks his lips as he imagines how much further he can take things with you. You let out a soft sigh as his palms skim up your sides to cup your breasts, massaging them gently as his thumbs roll across your nipples. You arch your back, pressing your breasts into his palms, and Leon grins as he continues teasing your sensitive flesh.

"Always so responsive," he breathes, crawling up to nestle between your legs, his broad form draping over yours. His hands drop down to grip your waist, his fingers tightening slightly on your heated skin, and then he tugs you against him, rolling his hips forward, grinding his erection against your center, and the friction is delicious. "Do you like having my weight on top of you?"

"Mm-hmm," you nod, your breath coming in quick pants as he starts rocking his hips, sliding his length along your slit, coating it with your slick.

The feeling of his cock gliding against your folds is intoxicating, the sensation amplified by your previous orgasms. You squeeze your thighs around his hips, and he moans, burying his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent as he continues to move against you. His movements start to spasm when the tip of his dick catches on your entrance, and he sucks in a breath between clenched teeth, unable to help himself as he pushes forward slightly. You gasp at the pressure, and Leon pauses, knowing it must be overwhelming after he spent the better part of an hour working you open with his fingers. You'd be incredibly tight even if he was average sized — which he isn't—so the size difference has the potential to cause real problems for you both.

Your hips jerk forward, and Leon groans loudly as your body wraps tightly around the tip of his cock. A wave of intense pleasure courses through his veins, radiating out from his pelvis. It's almost enough to make him come right there and then, but he manages to regain some self-control, despite how badly his body yearns for release. But damn... it feels incredible, and he needs you, needs to feel that again.

For a while, he loses himself in the repetitive motion of popping the tip of his penis inside of you only to withdraw immediately afterward. Over and over, again and again, until you're sucking him in on your own. Each time, he struggles not to plunge himself fully within you. Every single ounce of restraint is focused on holding back, letting you adjust. By the time he's able to sink past halfway without making you squirm or whimper, you're coated in a layer of sweat. Your breath comes quickly as your fingers wrap around his forearms caging your head, clutching him, nails scraping red lines over his skin, like scratches from wild cats.

You tremble beneath him, gasping, biting your bottom lip to contain the sounds building in your throat. When the crown of his dick hits something solid inside of you, you shout his name.

"Leon, please! So big. Oh gods, oh gods. That can't—that shouldn't fit." The sudden shift into awareness worries him, breaking his concentration, and he nearly slips completely free of you. You're looking down between your joined bodies, and seeing yourself spread wide over his girth, pupils blown, sends you right back to delirium, arousal winning out over panic. "Why do I want it? I'm so full, Leon. I'm gonna explode."

"Not yet you aren't. Don't be tense, I’ve got you, everything’s okay. Relax."

But he needs you to let go for just a minute. A second. If he keeps trying now, he'll hurt you.

Breathe in. Breathe out. He waits, stroking your clit lightly, bringing you back to that blissful state of near-orgasm where all coherent thought ceases, as the passage softens. Finally, he hears it, the soft pop and subsequent sigh of relief. The muscles loosen around his cockhead as he slides further in. Only a little more now. Just enough to—there. Home base. Sheathed entirely within you.

His control frays dangerously close to snapping as he stares at your face, overcome by raw desire. Sweat runs down his spine, drops clinging to the strands of hair at his nape, threatening to fall into his eyes, but he doesn't dare blink lest he miss a single instant. He wants to remember every detail.

Your eyelids are half closed, dark lashes fanning flushed cheeks as your eyes roll back. Lips parted slightly, you pant softly, each breath a moan. "So full."

A thin film of moisture coats your brow, glossy trails winding down your temples to disappear in your hair. Chest rising steadily with each inhale. Hips undulating instinctively against his restraining palm. Inner walls squeezing and releasing sporadically like a massage. His own breathing speeds up and stutters. You feel amazing. Better than he ever imagined. More than anything his dreams could conjure, you are perfection, wrapped in silk and honey and lust.

He starts babbling. "You feel divine. Look at you taking me, being so good for me, relaxing, opening up for me. Gods above I love watching you let go," he groans huskily, leaning forward to nuzzle your jaw. Your soft skin pressed against his forehead, your fragrance filling his nose. The tip of his tongue darting out to lick along the seam of your lips before dipping in between them. Without pulling back from where he's sheathed, he starts slowly rolling his hips, careful not to thrust hard yet; just shallow rocking movements meant to get used to the stretch. Gradually easing both of your bodies into a rhythm. "I was so afraid to ruin you, break you, destroy everything you represent..." A harsh intake of air, followed by a low rumble as he pushes forward, drawing another moan from you, "And now you're here... giving yourself over to me like this..."

He traces the line of your throat with gentle kisses and nibbles. "Tell me how it feels. Is it painful? Am I hurting you at all?" Another tremor, another groan. Your fingers dig deeper into the muscle of his triceps. "If something becomes uncomfortable, tell me immediately. Okay?"

A stream of whimpers and garbled words drip from your lips as they descend lower to trace along your throat. One hand lifts up to twist through his long locks while the other seeks out the small of his back to pull him closer, urging him deeper. "Oh, f-fuck! Shit..."

His motions change from rolling strokes to short thrusts. The pace remains slow but steady. The angle forces the base of his erection to drag over your swollen clit with every inward slide. It stimulates that tiny bundle of nerves continuously. Your legs lock tighter around him. Feet pressing against his ass to lift you higher and push down at the same moment. Seeking more stimulation. Greedy for more sensation.

"It does hurt," you gasp as his lips latch onto a particularly sensitive area below the curve of your jaw, teeth grazing over delicate tendons before licking across to soothe away any soreness left behind. He hums low in his chest at the admission, and you add quickly, "But it's a good kind of pain, I don't know...! Ahhhhnnn—yes!" You lose track of your thoughts briefly when the head of his shaft bumps into some resistance deep inside you, causing an involuntary flinch and then a strangled keen.

"Oh yeah, right there? You like that?" Leon asks wickedly, repeating the action while reaching down with a hand to grab one leg above your knee and toss it over his shoulder. There's plenty of give to allow flexibility even with his broad frame crowding yours but with this new position his penetration increases dramatically. When his hips press flush against your pelvis, his whole length stuffed inside, his cock reaches even further than before and hits that exact spot dead center.

"Oh my gods--"

"No God," he snarls possessively, lowering his head next to your ear, "Just me. Can you feel how deeply you've let me in?" With purposeful intent he bucks sharply upwards, knocking a startled grunt out of you.

His mouth latches onto your neck again and sucks hard, pulling blood vessels to the surface and creating red blooms all along both sides of your windpipe. As his hips rock back and forth, their tempo picks up until you're practically bouncing from the force. "Who is filling you right now? Sinking into this tight little hole, fucking you into oblivion?" he growls savagely against your damp skin. In return, he earns more unintelligible cries mixed in with the occasional affirmation. The words "please" and "more" fall frequently off those lips. "Do you like it when I talk to you like this? Hm? It turns you on to hear filth instead of reverence, doesn't it? I know," he smirks before switching to something equally vulgar, "because you are dripping wet. Dripping... down... your thighs. Oh, Saintess. My filthy little saintess."

Leon rumbles deep within his chest when there's no answer forthcoming aside from pleasured whines and moans. In retaliation he nips roughly at your jugular, catching sensitive nerve endings between sharp teeth and threatening to break skin without actually biting down. His wide open hand finds your slick back and pulls you up a little to latch onto your chest, and rests the other forearm above your head to brace himself against.

Your chest is covered in a layer of perspiration that he laps away eagerly, swallowing gulps of water between every swipe with his tongue over stiff peaks. You writhe beneath him like an animal caught in its death throes. The movement only serves to intensify the friction between your bodies; both the external teasing of your clitoris rubbing against him and internal massage as his length scrapes against hot walls.

Everything smells like sex, like heat. Like two humans consumed by each other. Everything feels slippery wet, slippery soft. Every time either one of you moves the slightest bit there's a squishing noise emitting from somewhere beneath that makes your face twist and his manhood jump harder within its confines.

"So warm, so tight." Leon grunts harshly after diving down to bury his head between the valley of your breasts. "Can't hold back any longer..."

"Leon..!! Oooh gods...!" Your nails dig into his biceps, raking red streaks over smooth skin, sending goosebumps racing along every inch of exposed flesh.

When the initial shock wears off, he takes advantage of his current location and attaches his lips firmly onto one nipple while snaking a hand underneath your derriere and lifting slightly to tilt your pelvis upward so that with his next thrust there's a direct strike straight into your core, striking gold repeatedly.

Leon lifts himself back up, bracing against the bed for leverage, to hover over your limp body; chin resting atop his knuckles pressed deep into the mattress between your bent knees, staring intently at where your connection joins. Watching hungrily as he pistons into your soaked cunt with quick, shallow strokes meant for maximum friction. His balls swing forward in rhythmic thuds, slapping against the curve of your ass, coating themselves in sticky juices. "Keep looking," he commands gruffly. "Don't take your eyes away for a second. Want you watching stuff you full and mark what is mine."

Your breaths become more labored but your gaze remains fixed, focused solely on where they join together repeatedly. Your lower abdomen clenches tighter as he pounds into you, your head arching backward exposing delicate pale skin for him to continue littering love bites all over.

"Leon, I'm close, I'm close again please!" You cry out, chest rising rapidly off the ground, pushing against his mouth still ravishing one nipple between blunt teeth, swirling his tongue expertly over hardened nubs. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't ever stop I want more forever, please...!"

His movements are erratic, desperate. Frantic to reach his own climax. He hasn't had enough yet though, so he resists it stubbornly even as his vision threatens to blur around the edges due to sheer sensory overload from all angles.

"No." And abruptly he ceases thrusting entirely, simply leaving his dick sheathed inside your fluttering cavern, letting you feel how deeply he fills you. How closely he presses against places that have never been touched by anything other than a fingertip before tonight, if ever. The word itself wasn't spoken with hostility or anger but rather affectionate reprimand. "Tonight is about training. About making sure you learn this lesson properly. It won't do if we finish prematurely when there's still so much to learn and do first."

When your frustrated whines subside to mere frustrated whimpers, he begins again, slower now but with firm intention aimed directly toward prolonging the experience further, ensuring maximum pleasure and education. His head lowers once more into position directly beside your left ear, voice whispering huskily and intimate against your cheek. "My sweet saintess," he murmurs soothingly while rolling his hips slowly forward, eliciting several soft sighs and gasps from below. "Let go completely. Surrender yourself to me."

He slides out of you with agonizing care before helping you turn onto your stomach. Once finished positioning you just so, he straddles your calves in order to lay atop you. Your torso is completely flattened out onto the bed, pinned under his weight. He brings a hand behind himself and guides his engorged cock into your wetness once again; guiding, encouraging your thighs apart while simultaneously spreading those soft inner globes wide open until your entrance yields readily beneath his tip. Then slowly pushes home until bottoming out against your deepest barriers, whereupon he withdraws nearly completely again before repeating the cycle.

"I'm going to go weird," you warn feebly. Not exactly coherent speaking material given present circumstances but still understandable nevertheless. "I'm going to break, please, I'm sorry, I can't stop—" You sob as another wave of warmth crests, rolling down from somewhere deep within, drowning everything else in its wake, dragging under and tearing apart all preconceived notions of reality and time and place until only bliss remains, eternal and infinite.

Fuck, yes, he thinks, fighting not to come prematurely when your walls start rippling around him uncontrollably. It's him who did this to you. Who took apart your composure piece by piece until nothing remained but trembling limbs and whimpers escaping dry mouths, lips parched for air. His chest swells with pride at witnessing your body react viscerally to his touch. It's like staring Ethelion right in the eye while he fucks what is His, claiming ownership without reservation or remorse. No god will ever fill you more than Leon can—will always satisfy you beyond compare, leaving you a shattered wreck incapable of coherent thought besides Leon.

"Yeah?" he whispers hotly against your nape, pushing your hair to the side with his nose before nibbling gently on supple flesh beneath. He wraps himself around your back like a blanket, enfolding you completely within the cage formed by his arms, his hips slapping mercilessly into your asscheeks as he continues pummeling relentlessly onward, faster and harder and deeper than before, stretching you far beyond capacity yet somehow never enough. "Break, then. Go ahead and shatter for me. I'll catch you every single time, hold all the fragments together. Give yourself entirely until nothing matters anymore except how good you feel when I'm fucking you."

The sounds he lets out against your ear is embarrassing when your instantaneous orgasm squeezes violently down around him, milking him furiously even though he hadn't been expecting it.

"Fuck! No, wait, waitwait—don't do that, I'll—" His cock twitches painfully within your spasming walls as they begin contracting uncontrollably again despite his orders otherwise; not stopping nor slowing for a second, forcing the rest of his sentence to trail off into a broken groan. He's fucking coming. Already.

Against his best efforts, a guttural whine tears loose from deep within his lungs, echoing throughout the room as he pumps out rope after thick rope into your welcoming womb, coating every possible surface until saturation point has already surpassed capacity and excess seed oozes out copiously around his shaft as evidence of his release. He keeps pumping, desperately seeking extra traction whenever possible but soon running out of reserves to keep up pace. After a few final shuddering thrusts that border on overstimulation, he sinks further into you one last time before allowing himself to collapse and spoons you securely from behind with both arms cradling tightly around your front like a protective shield, breathing heavily.

"You almost sucked the life outta me." Leon mumbles into the nape of your neck, panting hard against soft skin, still half-hard and buried inside of you. "Wasn't supposed to happen like that. Had plans. Wanted to make this perfect for you, wanted you to remember this night forever."

"Are you kidding me?" you slur, sounding delirious. Your head lolls sideways against his shoulder, eyelids fluttering weakly. "That was incredible."

"Really? I didn't hurt you?"

"I mean... I definitely think I would have died if we kept going according to your plans. But honestly? I think that's a small price to pay considering what happened instead."

He chuckles lightly at that, relieved and delighted by your positive response, before turning your chin towards him and pressing his mouth to yours, kissing deeply and tenderly. He tastes the saltiness from sweat and tears on his tongue and smiles inwardly knowing that he was the one who made you cry. That you willingly let him have this, give him everything without question or doubt. That's the real victory here, isn't it?

As you relax further, relaxing into the mattress, your breathing evens out, becoming slower, calmer. He watches intently, fascinated by how peaceful you look lying next to him. His cock twitches inside of you once more, reminding him that he is still hard. Still wants more.

"We can still keep going," he offers quietly, reaching between your legs, fingers trailing lightly along the outer edges of your labia, stroking softly, coaxing them to part further. His thumb brushes gently across your clit and draws out a hiss from you, and a delicious roll of your hips that forces him deeper inside of you.

"You're going to kill me," you whisper, leaning in for another kiss, and he complies readily, capturing your lips with his own. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and press yourself against his chest, sighing contentedly as his fingers begin working their magic.

"If you die, it'll be because I loved you too well. Which would be an acceptable way to go."

The golden hour of late afternoon casts long shadows over the estate, the air warm and filled with the gentle hum of life—buzzing bees, chirping birds, and the occasional rustle of leaves as a breeze passes through. Everything feels tranquil, as if the estate itself has finally come to rest after the flurry of its construction. Leon basks in the glow of success, having achieved something worthwhile here with his own two hands—or at least supervising its creation. It's comforting to feel like a person instead of a weapon, especially when such simple pleasures bring so much joy.

And there you are, kneeling amid the lilies you’ve finally managed to grow. They sprout from pots scattered throughout the greenhouse, adding bright pops of white to the green of the plants already thriving. You hum happily while tending to your collection; you've taken great care to tend the soil carefully, pruning away any brown or yellow leaves, keeping them watered regularly, and providing proper sunlight each day. And they've paid dividends, resulting in a stunning display. Each pot contains a variety of different types, ranging from delicate trumpet flowers to majestic magnolias.

Leon watches fondly from the doorway as you work diligently, using the watering can to dampen the rich black earth before tucking a fresh bloom into place amidst the greenery. He'd bought the seeds specifically with you in mind when he heard of their beauty, hoping to surprise you upon delivery—but was disappointed when it took longer than expected. Now here they stand, proud and vibrant, blossoming fully in preparation for spring, brought into existence by your tender loving care.

Much like him.

Leon isn’t sure if you realize how much those flowers represent more than just your determination to build this garden. He does hope that perhaps you recognize a hidden truth embedded within these stems and petals; that as long as someone believes enough to nurture growth, nothing will ever truly perish—especially not love.

He takes a step forward, his boots crunching softly on the gravel path. You don’t turn, too engrossed in your work, your fingers gently brushing over the petals of a nearby flower. He watches the way your hands move with such care, such tenderness. It’s a far cry from the woman he first met—so unsure of herself, so afraid of what the world might think. Now, you are here, fully in your element, having created something beautiful from nothing. And he cannot help but admire how far you've come, how brave you are, how determined to make a new life for yourself.

"They've grown well," Leon says, coming up beside you, taking care not to disturb your concentration. His eyes follow your motions, noticing the way the sunbeams bounce off your cheeks, highlighting the curves and lines of your face as you smile proudly.

"Look, my pretties. He's praising you," you say fondly, caressing another blossom with the back of your finger. "Go ahead, praise them more."

He laughs softly. "Alright, then. Um, very nice job, lilies..." Leon trails off awkwardly, unable to shake the feeling of foolishness that comes with complimenting plants like they understand human speech. "Good work on the pollination?"

You burst into giggles as soon as his words leave his mouth and he smiles sheepishly, trying his hardest not to blush. Maybe this kind of thing doesn't suit him, but he wants you to know how happy it makes him seeing your efforts come to fruition. All of this—the flowers, the greenhouse itself, even your little house down by the lake—were ideas that came straight out of your brain and were built here by your hands. And damn it, he wishes there was a manual for what to say to express just how amazingly impressive that is!

But when you glance back at him with shining eyes full of excitement, Leon realizes that maybe he doesn't need fancy vocabulary after all.

"And great job growing garden, my lady." He grins broadly, patting the top of your head fondly. "I knew you would do it if you believed enough."

Suddenly you turn to him fully and throw your arms around him tightly in an excited hug. "I couldn't have done it without you."

"Nah, this was all you."

"Okay fine, yeah it was pretty much just me... But seriously!" You insist, looking up at him with serious eyes that glitter like gemstones. "Thank you."

"What is this, 'thank you'? You should be saying 'I did a good job!' Come on, say it."

A smirk curls at the edge of your lip before morphing into an expression so warm, Leon feels it spread deep within his chest like sunshine melting snowfall. "We did a good job. Thank you for believing in me enough to see it through. For sticking by me during tough times, cheering me on no matter how discouraged I got. This is our home now."

A soft sigh escapes his throat involuntarily and he pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist loosely while resting his chin atop your hair. "Mmhm... That sounds much better."

Hearing those words, hearing you accept this space as theirs, makes him incredibly happy. Part of him wonders if you truly comprehend just how significant this moment actually is—that neither of you have belonged anywhere since childhood; tossed aside or forgotten, ignored or scorned, pushed around by others' expectations—yet here stands a place where everyone knows exactly who they are meant to belong with and where they belong. A sanctuary of peace built around love alone.

After all those years trapped in that crumbling temple and their orders, forced to endure pain and suffering under constant scrutiny from those seeking power through control, Leon never could imagine things turning out so perfectly for himself. Not when he lost faith so long ago, surrendering himself entirely to Ethelion's command in hopes he might someday find salvation elsewhere; yet ultimately falling short of such aspirations time after time. Yet somehow now, even despite everything—despite being branded a traitor, exiled, stripped away of everything including his name—he is grateful, contentment flooding through his system, settling comfortably within his bones.

In your arms, there is freedom. In your heart beats a home.

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