#and wake him from his eternal slumber

[jasmancer]

sam reid is so right for interpreting lestat as a clown like yeah he's the court jester that everyone wants to fuck so badly he gets away with doing whatever he wants forever

[tteokdoroki]

✎ᝰ. OCT 22ND ★ SOMNOPHILIA - seishiro nagi .ᐟ

[CHAPTER TWENTY TWO SLEEPING BEAUTY ] once upon a time, a brave knight, destined to marry someone she’d never met, says fuck it and plans to reap the rewards of saving the prince from eternal slumber. without realising that he’s already awake… ( 8.8K ).

✧ chapter contents - minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, characters in their 20s, sleeping beauty!au, somnophilia, hold the moan, overstimulation, cockwarming, dacryphilia, outer-course, handjobs, blowjobs, pussyjobs, free use, dub con, cumplay, creampies, not beta read, knight + fem!reader, aurora!seishiro nagi.

✧ fairy godmother's note - this is so late i'm so sorry, i think i might start posting kinktober towards the end of the week and into november, enjoy me loves. miss u loads! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ☆

you hardly remember the day that prince nagi was born — despite most definitely being there for the ceremony that commemorated it. at the time, you were hardly out of your own leading strings, still babbling dumbly and clinging to your mother’s garments whenever someone poked their nose in your face. obviously far too young to remember the curse placed on him by that wicked witch maleficent. 

prince seishiro nagi was beloved by all and affection for him was widespread throughout the kingdom. he was born deep into the night, at a time where the sky had been painted with deep blue and midnight hues, with hair as silky and pale as the silver moon and eyes like the glittering starry sky. so they said. at least that’s what your been told. while present at the time, you would hardly know — you were too young to remember how he looked nor the very moment you were promised to him as a baby yourself. 

from the moment you were born, your fate was signed away before your very first breath and once you arrived and took two steps you were instantly reared to become prince seishiro’s future wife. to help join two kingdoms in harmonious union. from the moment you could talk, you’d spent your entire life training to become the wife of a man you hardly knew. there were lessons in perfect posture, dainty dancing and simple sewing. not to mention how to serve a king and please a husband  — who apparently had unnatural beauty, the softest voice and the kindest of hearts. outside of nagi, you hadn’t a single hobby or interest that didn’t concern him, solely born and bred for his best interest. how were you supposed to know if any of those spoken traits were really true and not just word of mouth when nobody had any idea where the prince actually was. 

rumour had it, that the silver haired royal had been whisked away to the woods to be raised by the very fairies that blessed him — with hopes of avoiding maleficent’s malevolent curse in which seishiro was destined to prick his finger on a poisoned spinning wheel by age twenty three. in an attempt to undo the wicked spell, the fairies had combined their magic and made it so that only a true love's kiss would be able to wake up their beloved prince. which soon became your duty, by the time you came of age too. 

since then, and for twenty two years after, there was not a peep from the prince — to his people and his kingdom, he’d practically vanished overnight, becoming one with the moon and stars they prayed to each night. holding out hope for his return to the throne. 

in turn, you had no idea when your duty would come to fruition. maleficent's thunderous mountain, shrouded in a thick layer of green, jealous smog that was sure to suck the life from any innocent soul still raged on — meaning her curse hadn’t come true. she still hadn’t found the prince. no one had.

no one except for you. 

unknowingly, you’d met nagi humming amongst pointed shrubbery and wild flowers deep in the forest — absentmindedly complaining about tne berries he was forced to forage for his uncles back home. for you, it was instant, as though an invisible force had drawn you two him like the the two poles of a magnet. prince seishiro was a sight to behold, even before you knew who he was, the timbre trill of his voice filled you with a wave of unfamiliar butterflies that battled their way into your throat — trapping your voice. his eyes were an enchanting pool of riches, frightened of your presence at first, but filled with stripes of silver you were sure had to be stolen from the moon. 

for you, it was love at first sight. a powerful urge to be near him building up in your lungs like fluid in a sick person. you were sure he felt the same — the emotion obvious in the way he tentatively touched you as you talked about nothing and everything at all. the way he swooped down to your height to listen to tales of land and fortune he could only have dreamed of.

in those hours that you spent alone together; pressed into one another’s side’s amongst intertwined tree branches like two lovers' limbs after a night of improper passion  — you’d felt the most seen you had in all your life. for the first time in forever, someone saw you as more than just a bargaining chip or a trophy to be paraded around royal courts in honour of union. someone saw you as a whole, read your story from start to finish and still wanted to know more. you weren’t just a knight made to save a prince. to nagi, you were so much more.

and to you, nagi was a breath of fresh air — someone who craved a more exciting life rather than being banished to a life of greenery and foliage. despite his charming air of laziness and naivety, he expressed to you a burning sense of eager deep within. it was innocent, inquisitive but nagi’s thoughts called out to you like the bird song of two mates. the worlds you came from were different, clearly, but you just made sense to one another.

but back then, in those quiet moment with your head on his shoulder and nothing but the sound of oak leaves swaying in the gentle summer breeze — you’d had no idea that the silver haired stranger was just prince seishiro living under a different name. you thought him a commoner and he thought you a random huntress on a horse. no one had any idea that he was the crown prince, that he’d been snuck back into the castle on the day of his twenty third birthday to regain his title and his crown… only to be lulled by the cruel call of a sinister stranger  shortly — pricking his finger just like maleficent had planned. 

you were meant to marry. you were supposed to go back for seishiro and run away together, live apart from the expectations bestowed upon you as children. unfortunately, you wouldn’t find out until returned to the spot where you’d first met him, and were met with the face of the villain herself. instead of your lover. that’s when you realised the gravity of it all. who seishiro was. who you were meant to be. 

deep down, you knew this was a love too sacred to pass by, and with the white haired prince counting on you —  you would do everything in your power to save him. save the prince and the kingdom from sleeping soundly for the next one hundred years.

with the help of the fairies who raised nagi, you were able to take down the terrible maleficent — grateful that your parents had at least made you handy with a sword. through the flames of the beast above you, you wielded your weapon with a strength and bravery that would go down into the history books of lands far and wide. killing maleficent in the form of the dragon had been no easy feat but you fought, with screaming muscles and a bloody face — fulfilling the duty you had been born to do. trained to do. for nagi and for your kingdom. 

the difference was, this time, you were doing all of this for love. not just for honour.

after winning the flaming battle, you staggered your way through the kingdom despite your burns and free bleeding wounds, making your way up to the tower where your silver-moon haired lover slept. part of you felt envious of the slumbering kingdom, the eternal rest they had slipped under while your body burned and ached with every step that you took… but as soon as you laid eyes on your handsome prince — sleeping like a fallen angel crowned by scattered lights. the glinting particles of dust forming a shining halo over his sleep the steel hair. 

the beat of your heart quickens as you approach the bed tucked deep within his quarters — rivalling the speed of the finest royal race horse and the world completely falls away until the all that remains are you and seishiro. your prince. your love. even while he sleeps, he’s unfairly handsome, grey lashes dusted with starlight just barely brushing the apples of his milky-toned cheeks, his hair curls against his forehead and his lips, rose-tinted, part with each gentle exhale his body takes to keep him alive. without even thinking, your finger trails the slopes and contours of nagi’s delicate features, brushing over his Cupid’s bow that seems damp with the condensation of his warm breaths. the sensation stokes a fire within you while your mind wanders to less than pleasant thoughts.

how would his lips feel if you were to kiss him? how would they taste? how would seishiro kiss you back? the questions swirl around in the calcium cage of your skull like a storm untapped, fuelled by the remnants of adrenaline that simmers in your veins from the fight. it would be wrong, to do what you’re thinking of doing — to press your lips to the seam of his and run your tongue every inch in his hot mouth, behind his teeth and over his own pink muscle. maybe even to cup his throat and feel every breath he takes. it would be so wrong… and yet, your moral compass and previous duties seem to be out of working order, thus, losing the war the flickering desirous flame within you. one that rivals the breath of the dragon slaid outside.

no one would really care if you were to have the way with the crown prince. after all, you would need to be rewarded for your self sacrifice and service to the kingdom that could have very well been burned to the ground if it hadn’t been for your bravery. you deserved this, you deserved him and the chance to appease your growing appetite for the sleeping beauty before you. right now, there were no barriers… no servants and squires and maids or men to tell you what was proper of a knight or of a promised woman, and there certainly weren’t any barriers to the body of the silver haired prince. without any blankets, there wasn’t much to stop you from trailing a hand over seishiro’s clothed stomach and over the hills of his princely dress pants.

your fingertips grazed the taut muscles of his thick thighs as you teased yourself. teased the slumbering royalty. daring tug at the belt loops and thick leather her bound his trousers to his unfairly slender waist. with your lip caught between the sharp edge of your teeth, you unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants inch by inch, a tidal wave of goosebumps erupting over the surface of your body like freshly plucked chicken skin as you reveal more and more of his milky, toned flesh. he’s smooth all over, blueish veins apparent as they spiral underneath his skin, but nagi is just as soft as you remember, as warm brushing up against you as he was the day you first met in the woods.

saliva spreads across your tongue like a sheet of rain during a storm or a flash flood when his undergarments come down with the hem of his trousers, revealing a snow white path of pubic hair that curls prettily against his pelvis. there’s a craving for more that sloshes into the dips and deficits of your brain, like a dark haze that shrouds your brain in nothing but lust — so you act on the feeling, pulling more and more fabric away from seishiro’s most intimate parts until his cock, half hard and already leaking, is able to spring free. 

the sleeping beauty’s breath hitches and catches on the edges of his throat as his hard-on first hits the cool air shrouding his chambers. whatever preconceived notion you’d had of the prince’s body beforehand is quickly tossed away when you finally set your sights on his girth — he is as long as he is thick, chubby against the softness of his tummy with a pink tip that already oozes a thick stream of cream caused by the ghost of your touch over him. a warmth spreads through your entire body, an urge to taste him washing over you in a poor attempt to cool your need down. if you taste him, would that be part of your reward? would it matter to anyone if you put your mouth on the prince while he innocently slept… especially after you’d saved everyone?

you still cannot find it within yourself to care. 

perhaps the wounds maleficent inflicted upon you have left traces of her bad energy, for you continue to disregard your own morals and good intentions by crawling onto nagi’s bed ( careful with your movements while he shifts in his slumber ) and you keep your touch tender when taking him into your hold, the supple pads of your fingers wrapping around the length of the prince’s shaft while you smooth the pad of your thumb into the slit on his cockhead. rubbing the precum into it sweetly. now up close and personal with his most intimate parts, you’re able to catch the scent of nagi… which only worsens your hunger for him. he smells so good, the musky scent of his arousal almost sending your eyes into the back of your skull — acting like fumes of a pretty wildflower in the forest you once met. 

it hypnotises you, takes over your every thought and action in the heat of the moment. every sensation you once felt is now heightened by your own arousal, the feeling of your tongue behind your teeth and the silken sheets against your knees and the blistering temperature of seishirou’s girth in your palm. adjusting your grip on him to something more firm, soft little hands dwarfed by the sheer size and thickness of him, and accidentally pull a tiny moan from your sleeping lover. any trepidation mingling with the air in your lungs is quickly eradicated once you finally give in, flicking your tongue over the cream gathering at nagi’s mushroomed cockhead that burns a painful shade of deep red.

opening your mouth, you take seishiro down your throat as though it’s the easiest thing in the world, your tongue flexing against the bluish purple forked veins that spiral down his heavy shaft. all you want to do is make him harder, feel the blood rush from his slumbering brain to his balls so you can take him properly, elsewhere, later on. what doesn’t fit past the seams of your chapped lips, you continue to palm, setting a steady pace to the rhythm of your hands jerking the silver-haired prince off. its slick and easy, aided by the thick globs of precum that spill over your knuckles and sink into the lines in your palms — seishiro may be asleep, but his body reacts, hips bucking into your closed fist while he squeaks and sighs lazily. 

his head remains tacked to the pillow tucked behind it, starlight locks splayed out across the cooling silk fabric — perfectly tousled despite being slightly out of place as he writhes under the sinful prison of your hot, wet mouth. even you have to moan as you sink down on him, his heavy and pulsating balls meeting your chin while your nose nudges the prickliness of his happy trail. if he were awake, you wonder if nagi would be the type to coax you through giving him head — soft whimpers glossed in his lips while those moonshine grey eyes hold your gaze. or would he push your head down on him and fuck your mouth lazily as though it were another hole to fill with his cum.

part of you wants to rouse him right now, with the kiss of true love the fairies said would work on him, but only to hear how much louder he’d cry and moan for you. you want to hear how the Prince would praise you for taking him so well, slurping the early seed from his tip and hollowing your perfect pudgy cheeks as you gargle him down your eager throat. your imagination runs ahead of your actions as you bob your head faster and faster without regard for your lover sleeping soundly above you lewd slurping sounds echo throughout the room as you picture him looking down at you with flushed cheeks and lidded moonlit eyes — coaxing you to take more of him. 

the heat between your thighs returns, an unbearable searing ache pulsating through your clit as blood carrying lust and other happy hormones shoot straight to it. in one swift motion, you shove a single hand past the waistband of your own pants and undergarments to toy with the sensitive bud, smearing whatever remained of his precum and pre-release against your awaiting cunt. your eyes flutter shut at the taste and heaviness of nagi on your tongue, his viscous arousal flowing down your throat in saltine waves. the flavour was addictive and you found yourself bobbing your head faster, and faster — matching it to the pace at which you stroked your own sticky slit.

lavishly, you run your tongue back and forth over the opening of seishiro’s bulbous cockhead, humming happily around his thick shaft when he involuntarily bucks into the hellish fire of your mouth — it makes your heart swell to know that his body is reacting to you and you alone, how it could very well be this way for the rest of your lives. while you hump your own fingers, their tips pruning with how wet you are as you circle your clit, the sleepy beauty’s balls batter your chin as his taut hips thrust upwards instinctively to chase your dripping tongue and mouth.

drool pours from the corners of it, just as you leak against the seat of your panties — your juices hot and viscous while you finger fuck yourself and get off to the sensation of blowing the sleepy prince while he rests. everything is so sloppy, so messy and wet and you can’t help but to spit down on nagi as his dick swells against your tongue, the frothy mixture clinging to the prominent blood flushed veins that sprinkle from the tip down to his base. 

your release sneaks up on you like a silent figure in the night; hiding from the moonlight and a dirty moan slips from between your lips as you let go of your lover with a lewd pop, your jaw aches deliciously and your tongue is sore from running circles over his tip — as is your wrist from being down your pants to bully shapes into your clit but you don’t mind the pain, it’s all worth it to make yourself feel good. to make nagi feel good so you can use him later on, turning him from a prince into a sex doll. dopamine continues to spark across your brain as you switch from sucking to jerking nagi off, keeping the rhythm of your slick palm wrapped around him in tune with the one that rolls your clit between your fingertips and pinches your swollen folds. 

you don’t last much longer, not when you’re able to watch the moonlit prince fall apart above you even when the depths of sleep cling to the fine lines of his soul. the last remaining thread of your sanity snaps before you’re cumming against your own digits, gushing through the gusset of your panties and straight through the layer or your pants — even while you shiver and shake from the force of your own orgasm, you manage to find a the mobility to tap nagi’s cockhead lewdly against your pink tongue, grinning with an open mouth as his own orgasm rips through his unconscious form. 

warm and viscous seed paints a pretty picture against your strawberry tastebuds as it spurts copiously from his ravaged, fully erect cock. even hitting the back of your throat. 

but it’s not enough, it’s still not enough. a fire of desire still burns bright inside of you and nagi is still as hard as a rock in your hand. so you don’t see a point in stopping, not when you still want him and he clearly still wants you. 

in a whirlwind of fabric, you quickly abandon the lower half of your clothes — even though your legs are violently shaking and there’s a fizz in your brain that makes your vision go blurry from your orgasm, you find the strength to clamber into the prince’s lap and straddle him. a pulse of excitement runs through you as your bare ass meet his half dressed thighs and you set your palms flat against his chest to steady yourself above him. you’re barely able to contain the wavering moan that rumbles in the back of your throat as seishiro’s erection jumps against your sluice sex, as if coaxing you to lower yourself down onto him.

without an air of guilt, you do just that; indulging your sleeping lover’s underlying plea as you slip a hand between your temperate bodies to position his creamy cock at your weeping entrance — you run it back and forth over your slit a few times whilst holding back a quivering hiss, letting him dip in and out of your unused hole. you can’t help but squeak adorably when you start to rock your hips down, sucking him in and stretching over the thick circumference of his tip. you even manage to clench down on seishiro, trapping him inside with each inch you manage to take.

your head hangs low and you steady yourself against nagi again; nails forming pink crescent moons against his pearlescent skin because you’re not sure how much of this burn you can take. he’s so big, yet his cock is so helpless against your sticky walls — it’ll take a lot of work just to reach the hilt. “oh, fuck,” you whimper to yourself quietly, not wanting to be caught taking advantage of the kingdom’s slumbering royalty. you try to stablwlisw your breathing, hold onto your sanity by only fucking yourself over his tip because right now… it’s all you can manage. getting used delicious stretch to your pussy and the resistance of your hole as nagi slips into your tightness. 

in order to ground yourself, you press yourself against the moonlit prince until you’re both chest to chest — allowing your body to relax against is as you slide further down his cock. and, with this change in position, you easily dot feather light kisses from the pale skin, unmarked skin of seishiro’s neck up to his jawline — licking the light layer of perspiration that added diamonds to his skin. his pulse is slow, languid under your lips, just as the rise and fall of his chest is. nagi still sound asleep as you bathed his cock in all of your syrupy wetness. eventually, you reach his lips and hardly hesitate in kissing them, lapping over the seam of them with your tongue as if you’re asking for entrance when you don’t really need to.

not when his body is so willing to give into you, even while seishiro rests.

you swear you feel his lips twitch apart against your own, parting specifically for you to pour your withering moans into him and breathe life into his unconscious soul — your tongue licks at his, relishing in the flavour and slight sweetness to his mouth, letting it distract you from the twinge between your thighs as you finally seat yourself on his girth fully; breeders balls nestled comfortably against the curve of your ass. a feeling of content washes over you, feeling the chubbiness of his girth press hotly against your ribbed walls that catch on his prominent veins there. 

panting lightly, a ripple of desire is the next sensation that you feel, experimentally clenching around the prince below you — bottoming out as your cunt drools down on him. somehow, you find the strength in your thighs to lift your hips and thrust back down, a wet slap bouncing off of all four walls in response. it’s insane how tight, warm and wet you are — how thick, heavy and nagi is, constantly pressed up against your g-spot before you’ve really even moved. you splutter and hiccup as you begin the slow bounce of your hips and allow yourself the grace to accommodate for your sleeping lover’s size, his bright red and possibly overstimulated cockhead nudging feverishly against the pleasure spots that decorate your temperate silken walls. 

“…gods,” comes your shaky voice, trapped behind the prison of your teeth in a weak attempt to hold in your moans. “s-seishiro, f-feel so good…” though you speak to no one in particular, using the sound of your own wailing voice to get yourself, you can feel the white-haired royal underneath you buck upwards as though he wants to fuck you back — driven by tired strings of lust and desire as though he’s a puppet on a set of strings for your own pleasure. collapsing forward, you nestle your head underneath his chin so that the only part of your body moving is your hips working up and down on nagi’s pulsating cock at break-neck speeds. in this position, your murky breaths of exertion coast over his pearlescent skin and your eyes grow misty at the perfect angle. your stream of thrusts are constant like a rushing river, allowing his bulbous leaky tip to barrage into your sex and pull squelching, lewd noises from your poor pussy.

you’re already so sensitive, it’d be a miracle if you last much longer riding your lover like this and to your heart’s content. slumped over him, chewing on your chapped lips to hide the debauched noises that slosh over your tongue and are churned up in your mouth with the drool there. it’s pathetic, really, but your mind is too hazy and high on the drug of ecstasy to care. to pacify yourself and the growing fire that burns the butterflies in your tummy, you switch from bouncing on his fat girth to grinding against it, dancing with your partner in a sensual sticky grind where only you are able to lead. every stroke of his cock within your sluice, pulsating walls makes it harder for you to keep quiet or keep still — the bed creaking beneath the weight of your movement becomes a loud wail and harmonises perfectly with the tune or skin slapping on skin and your pathetic bleats of bliss. 

sweat from the exertion of pounding your mound down on the curve of his cock begins to bead at your hairline, pearling in opaque orbs that form your own halo. one that belongs to a fallen angel. it drips down the side of your face onto the prince below you, another way that you mark him, just as your juices do — droplets of it trailing down his shaft, balls and even his ass. if someone were to walk in now, they’d set their sights on an obscene display of sin, their perfect prince defiled by his knight to be, but you don’t care, your mind and exhausted limbs buzzing with wanton. you’ll use him until cum, claim your prize and work your selfish pussy over him until you know every constellation by heart because of how many times you’ve used seishiro to make yourself see stars.

every sensation overwhelms you, the creamy and tackiness to his cock between your slicked up thighs and the pressure of his purpling cockhead as it digs disgustingly against your g-spot in the most perfect of ways because you clench down on him every now and again. static rings loud in your ears that burn with both shame and lechery for taking advantage of your sleeping lover, the notes from the tune your fat pussy pap-pap-papping as it connects with stitchers of nagi’s bare flesh has a tingling sensation spreading under your skin too. even when he bucks instinctively into you, your entire body jolts in response because there’s no greater relief than knowing that you are yearned for… even within the clutches of unconsciousness.

when nagi whimpers in his sleep, you have to bite his shoulder — keeping your wailing mouth occupied even if you’ll leave teeth marks against him in place. someone could hear the way you beg him to fuck you, muffling yourself as you whisper dirty fantasies to yourself and split your swollen nether lips open on his drippy dick. you’re not sure if that is a good or bad thing to want, to be heard.  “f-fuck me sei… p-please my prince,” everything feels so depraved and so wrong, while you whine sweetly against saltine skin. however, you don’t see yourself stopping — not until you can no longer feel your legs from riding him and your cunt aches from cumming so hard. “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”

the back and forth of your sluice sex over nagi’s lap tampers with your system, sending orgasmic shockwaves down your spine and happy hormones into your bloodstream. you alternate, once more peeling your soaked thighs away from his and lift your fluttering entrance higher and higher up his shaft until there’s barely an inch of the white haired royal left inside of you. the emptiness makes you miss him, a choked sob weaving its way like a vine through the gaps in your ribs as it claws its way out of your throat. it’s a shuddering noise that you suppress by locking lips with seishiro again, wet on the seam of them as you lift your head to kiss him. 

“i wanna cum, nagi!”

the words are just about to melt in his mouth but…

…but euphoria is quick to slip into your veins like a welcomed chill on a hot day when nagi suddenly rouses from his slumber — following a natural compulsion to snap his hips upwards with a powerful force and filling you in one fluid motion. he’s awake. one of his hands, extremely strong and veiny and firm takes you by surprise as it clamps down on the back of your neck  so that he can keep you in place too. it was almost as if he was chasing the snugness of your oozing, squelchy mound. an incredulous gasp drifts warmly from your mouth and condenses in nagi’s, for a second you worry that he might push you off and yell for help… but recognition registers on the slope of his handsome features. 

he’s awake…how long has seishiro been awake? 

moonlight lashes flutter against your face from your proximity and murky grey eyes, littered with exhaustion between their flecks, light up with a sprinkling of hearts as then open to look at you. slowly but surely their gaze drifts downwards, honing in on the point at which his milky cock repeatedly disappears into your puffy pussy, the glaze of your essence on his rock hard cock and clinging to his pubes put on display. 

groaning hoarsely and deeply, nagi’s freehand shoots down to the bouncing flesh of your ass without a lick of hesitation and pulls you the rest of the way down his pulsing girth. then up again. then back down — giving him all of the control to pummel your pussy to the high heavens. hard and fast. “i thought… thought you wanted to cum,” the moonlit prince mumbles, voice still puppeteered by the last strings of sleep. “don’t make it a hassle by holding back now… fuck your self down on my cock ‘n cum…”

he’s awake… how much of this has seishiro been awake for? 

nagi builds up a formidable momentum inside of you, dragging his seedy tip along your ravaged walls, shocking for someone who had essentially just woken up from a curse of eternal slumber. he doesn’t seem to mind that you’ve been using him like a toy for your own sexual desires, but how could he? not when you’re dousing him in your sweet nectar, slapping your soaked sex down on him and squeezing his aching shaft just like that. how can a man, no less a prince, whine about waking up to such a good fuck?

all you can do is reply with a high pitched squeal, your body jerking and jolting on top of nagi as you struggle to keep up with thrusts. “come now, don’t make me do all of the work,” white starts to froth at the base of his cock, bubbling up while it streaks over your ruined pussy lips and clit. “after all, you started this… took advantage of me while i slept. s’only fair, angel,” he adds nonchalantly and makes you gush unbelievable amounts of arousal at the condescending air about his words.

he’s awake and now seishiro wants you to cum for him.

you do try your very best to do as nagi says, selfishly squeezing down on him and locking his precum bleeding tip inside your gummy walls, but your hips fumble their rhythm as soon as he looks up at you — sweaty hair splayed out in the sheets like an angel, lips parted in both curiosity and awe, cock bulging in your lower stomach. you’re choking the life out of seishiro and he likes it, feeling like he’s been rewarded for just being a pretty prince. 

all you want is for him to make you scream and squirt — your clit smears against his pelvis while you buck down on him feverishly. he barely lets you lift of his erection at this point. “‘m close… s-seishiro, please! c-can’t…”

it’s the first time you’ve spoken his name directly to him since your love-at-first-sight encounter in the woods and it flips a switch in the peaceful prince of the night. “y-yeah you can, angel. of course you can…” with a breathy, almost whiny moan, seishiro uses his newfound energy to assault your cunt with a barrage of wild thrusts. jackhammering into you, jerking you about on his throbbing length, coated in a milky mix of your shared arousals. “had no problem… fixing yourself on my cock before. ‘m sure you can make yourself cum on it now that i’m here to help,” he adds through gritted teeth, never letting up on his incredible speed. “shouldn’t be a hassle.” 

that’s all you really need to hear before you’re thrown into the deep end, the dark abyss of the night. while the ropes in your tummy unravel and unwind, the tune of sinful sex reaches its final crescendo and the world around you fades away as you’re thrown over the edge and temporarily black out — you practically squirt in an aggressive, clear stream and renders you a cum soaked mess in the prince’s lap. he forces your head into the junction between his neck and jaw, utilising his hold on you to help muffle the scream that burns at the sore edges of your voice as you cum for him. practically drowning nagi in everything you have to give. 

as if chasing something, your lover speeds up his thrusts, trying to make sure he isn’t left behind while you cum for him. growls and grunts spill over his lips, nagi’s pink tongue darting out the flavour you’d left on him as he slept. he buries himself deep inside of you, lunging into that one special spot nestled deep within your walls so that he can prolong your release — working hard even though he was just roused from what seemed like an eternal night.

the aftershocks of your high and heavenly spasms of your hole around nagi simply aren’t enough to satisfy him however — whatever remains of an orgasm he had coming fade away like embers of a dying flame while you come down. in fact, before you can even collapse on the white haired royal fully, he uses a strength you were unaware that he possessed to immediately flip you onto your back — manhandling you into the position he desires most. your thighs pushed together, knees pushed into your chest and him… towering over you menacingly.

only now do you realise how… large seishiro is. how much more dominant he is over you. how it may have been a mistake to think you could steal pleasure from him while he slept as a personal reward and not expect consequence. or at least a consequence you might enjoy too. “such a waste,” he comments groggily, pulling his cream soaked cock from its home within your pretty pussy with a hiss. using one hand, nagi grabs at his ravaged shaft and taps it against the swell of your thighs pushed together. “how can you use me like that…and still fail to make me cum? i’ll have to do it myself. what a bother, angel.”

your breath catches in your throat, indicating your surprise. “seishiro…w-wait,” you plead, lips parting in a quiet moan at every squeeze of your flesh and tug of hips to get your body into place. you don’t even know what you’re asking for or why you’re asking him to stop, you still don’t care about the consequences. all you want is for the sleeping beauty above you to fall apart, to hear your name on the tip of his tongue, to feel him cum wherever that may be. “‘m sorry…i-i didn’t know you were awake!”

“don’t care darlin’,” seishiro’s breathy words hang between the pearliness of his teeth, shaggy hair tickling the skin on your calves as he positions them over his shoulders instead of in the air. “don’t r’member much… just my finger gettin’ pricked ‘n then you… using me. on top of me…” his cock makes a home between your plush thighs, pushing back and forth against the flesh to relieve his painfully hard erection. the action itself paints the canvas of your body with remainders of your arousal and essence — thick stringy globs of white forming tracks against soft skin. “f-fuck angel, you put in all this work to make yourself cum using me… now it’s my turn.” 

eyes that mirror the silver light of the moon flutter shut and nagi’s nose judges against your ankle — lips grazing the pointed bone and in their wake leave a trail of inflamed bites from where he leaves his mark on you, hoping that they’ll be present on the morning to remind you of who you belong to. his pink tongue peeks out to lick, loll over and soorje what he nips at, but the wet sensation doesn’t distract from curious finger tips that dance their way down and pinch your arousal soaked, fat folds together. neediness streams into your tone as you whimper out for more and your hips arch up to chase the feeling. 

in response a lazy grin twitches at the corner of your prince’s mouth, playing with the tackiness your cunt leaves against his hand before he spreads it over his bright red tip as lube. “quit squirming angel, s’too much of a bother to keep you pinned down,” seishiro then adjusts his knees on the bed and his hips begin to brutally rut into you, dragging his sloppy length back and forth, back and forth through the makeshift pocket pussy he’s made out of your quivering limbs. his precum loaded tip prods at the softness of your tummy and earns you a symphony of high pitched moans and heaving pants, harmonised with heavy balls slapping wetly against your clit over and over again. to the point where you fear you may be overcome with another orgasm all too soon.

being used like this, it feels humiliating, shame burns like paper held to a flame underneath the surface of your skin and tears begin to sting in your lower lash line as your entire body jolts up the bed — nagi throwing you about like a rag while he plunges his hips against your doughy thighs. his stamina impresses you too, but you find it hard to dwell on how quickly your lover was able to be riled up after rising from the constraints of an all powerful curse. you don’t mind the aching pulse to your untouched pussy when you get to watch nagi hang over you and hungrily hump your shaky legs — his usually kind eyes are swamped with darkness of lust the back of his pupil practically eclipsing the grey colour. 

his head darkens at the roots from how much he’s sweating, droplets crowning his head and running down his back like water on a glass windowpane. he’s a sight to behold, he makes your holes drool and mouth water, the both of you completely wrecked by a little thigh fucking and humping. between his merciless pace and the creaks from the bed, nagi jams a veiny hand between the sensual bump and grind of your bodies to grasp at his thick, temperate shaft — pulling it down to run through the entire length of your slippery before tapping it greedily against your puffy clit and snack between your thighs.

the sweet squeak you release has the prince repeating his action over and over, blood rushing through the purpling veins that spiral down his chubby cock. you’re the perfect sticky little fleshlight for him to fuck, to hold and love, and he hisses, jutting his hips forward in order to chase the euphoria coursing for his veins like the next best drug — all while he pounds your thighs to the starry heavens and back. 

juicy, wet sounds fill the room to the brim, a concert and performance of moans and whimpers to match and accompany nagi pounding away at your thighs, grinding against your sex. the white haired man leaks copious amounts of precum, milky like his hair and loose from his sore and sensitive rouge tip, that can’t stop weeping, oozing. his arousal makes each of his movements easier and more fluid, slipping and sliding between your legs and just grazing your sobbing mound. this way; you’re reminded of the sheet sheer size of your lover from the woods — be throbs, swollen and fat with an oncoming orgasm, with the seed that weighs down his balls that swing with each rut of his hips.

a hearty sob escapes you each time they press against you, dragging over your clit that begs for attention. the visage of your prince above you — flushed at the cheeks ( if they’ve been kissed by the petals of a rose), white brows knitted together st the centre of his forehead while ruby lined lips appear bitten and bruised  — begins to blur from your saltine tears. you can no longer hold back, raw and rough desire washing away your ability to control your body and your voice.

the way you cry wracks your body with the case of the shakes because of the wild whines resounding from deep within seishiro’s hard chest. each sound makes your cunt quiver, your juices darkening the sheets below and clinging to his snow while pubes, all the while, the prince ravishes you pulling you apart molecule by molecule before he pieces you back together with just a lazy shape drawn against your hardening clit. 

“w-what a waste of tears, i thought you wanted to use me,” nagi stutters out, breath condescending against your ankles. it makes him pulse between your thighs, knowing that he’s the one able to reduce you to a mess of cum and tears — even if you did half the work for him while he slept soundly. the fact that you threaten to break, still holding onto your inhibitions and desperate moans, only serves to make home rut his creamy cock against you faster. “you should give it up angel, m-much less of a hassle if you give into me.”

and with that, seishiro leans down to kiss you, his swiftness akin to a starved man. he manhandles your thighs to sit either side of his unfairly slender waist, granting him the room to swoop down until you’re chest to chest — his wide, large frame hiding your shaky one away from the world underneath him as his teeth sink into your bottom lip. he licks into your mouth as you open up with a shy mewl, devious tongue wrapping itself around your own as he tastes himself there. “thank you for waking me up, angel,” spit slings between your eager mouths, movements a little out of sync and languid since they’re so driven by a raw passion that simmers underneath the sleepy fog clouding the prince’s brain. “wakin’ me up to do this,”

he settles back on his haunches after coming up for air, laughing tiredly at the pout on your lips from the loss of contact. 

but now that you’re spread eagle with your cunt drooling openly on the bed and glistening under the moon’s light — the white haired royal angles his hips just right, shuddering from head to toe as his sex soiled girth slots between your swollen folds perfectly. his bulbous tip peeks out against your clit and he circles it against you, desperate to hear you wail like the wind again. “feels so good against you, s’not fair how good you feel,” he says under his stuttering breath, using a thumb and forefinger to spread your pussy lips apart — groaning at the strings of clear slick that tie them together. ““later on, when i’ve got more energy, i’m going to fuck this pretty hole. make sure i really have my turn.” nagi promises and swallows thickly at the raunchy sight of you, viscous drops of your treacle like nectar running over your slit and down to your puckered asshole.

you’re grateful for his touch, the friction you’re about to receive… but you miss seishiro’s lips and his tongue so deep in your mouth he might as well have been fucking it too. why do you miss those luscious lips? because they keep you quiet, muffle your embarrassingly high moans and withering screams of pleasure, cover up your glass shattering cries that accompany your teary face. he’s so heavy and raw against you, grinding his shaft that shoots tiny spirts of precum onto your cunt while you match his rhythm — it’s a wonder why you’re crying right now. not to mention the rounds of overstimulation he’s put you through. 

“you were so quiet before, angel, what happened?” a condescending tone fills out the weight in nagi’s voice, punctuated by the harsh lunges of his hips forwards as he smothers his girth in the juicy offerings from your folds. part of the prince wants to selfishly keep you writhing against his hot and heavy dick for all of eternity, adoring the way you bleat and cry for him through bleary Bambi eyes. hes sure you wouldn’t mind it either, but he’s too far gone to keep edging you both forever. “does it feel that good? so fucking good that you can’t help but whine and whimper for me… s’too much of hassle to hold back, angel. go one, cry pretty f’me, pretty girl…”

you burst into tears, letting your emotions overwhelm you. “feels so, so good, my prince,” you slur back as that familiar twinge of pleasure begins to rapidly mount within your tummy once more — throwing an avid, heated look his way. “s-sei, ‘m close,” one of your shaky hands take purchase in the silvery roots of his hair while the other grasps him shoulder so that you have the leverage to grind into him — rocking your hips in a fluid motion like a boat on rapid waves. sanity slips away from you under nagi, his energy completely unmatched as you struggle to keep up with his pace. the way he chases your sweltering, souse sex with the speed of the kingdom’s finest race horse. he pushes forward when you pull back and it goes both ways — one moment can’t happen without the other. 

nagi simpers above you, smirking lazily as he pushes back the sweaty snowy white roots of his hair — drinking in the sight of you. “that so? you’re close? wanna feel it’s, s’too much effort to have you hold it…not when you sound so wet…” both of you move with increased vigour the closer you get to cloud nine, seishiro cooing to you like over the crude sound of your sexes slipping over each other. “…y’should be embarrassed, yanno,” he presses against you, whimpering happily at the feeling of your breasts bouncing against his chest with each thrust, his breath hot against the tips of your ears and weakly grinds against you clit now — his own orgasm on the horizon.  “taking advantage of me like that. using me. s’naughty princess. such a hassle.” 

he tucks his face against your neck, teeth grazing over the skin while he listens out for your hiccuped sobs and heaving chest — you’re so loud when you’re close and it pleases nagi. he can’t stop tapping your clit and nipping at your flesh — desperate to hear how much louder you can get without holding back. a gargled gasp from you has his cock twitching and threatening to burst with release, while the condescending gripes that vibrate in his chest shoot straight to you’re swollen clit. 

listening to you cry and settling his greyed gaze on your puffy eyes is more than enough for nagi to cum, the string of his own sanity snapping as you scream for him. “you look like you’re about to cum, angel,” he purrs lowly, panting between each word. “mmmh, don’t you think i deserve to go first? fuuuuck i’m close…so close. do you want it inside? i won’t ruin the bed that way… wont need to clean it up…” seishiro rambles over the spit pooling pathetically on his tongue, bucking faster and harder against your slippery cunt with each syllable he manages to get out. “…wanna put it inside you as you cum.” 

you barely have it in you to respond and you can hardly make sense of it all, brain running a mile a minute. the feeling of your orgasm twists in your lower stomach, stacking painfully in your pelvis at a rapid pace you can’t even comprehend. “yes…! want it inside, gods yes!” you sigh out, voice rising several octaves. “want you inside!”

though it’s entirely selfish of you to make demands in the moment, after how you so sinfully used the sleeping prince as your prize — nagi relents, slipping the delicious curve of his cock past your puckered, fluttering entrance just as he reaches his peak. it makes him shake as though the gods have stepped down from the heavens and set foot on earth and he really can’t help it, how much he cums. there's so much of it, white hot seed that spews into you hotly, so pent up from all the pleasure you’d given him while he slept. his heavy load pulses against your sensitive, ribbed walls and sticks — lubing up your insides while he pushes his milky cock deeper into your bare cunt. 

“f-fuck!” the white haired prince curses loud enough to rouse his loyal subjects within a ten mile radius with one final swing of his hips. “f-fuck angel… gods!”  strings of opaque seed tie the veins on his shaft to your precious hole and as he twitches with the last spurts of his orgasm — your own high is triggered.

white flashes behind your eyes and the dam breaks for the third and final time — your release trickles out of you in small waves and you let out a borderline pornographic moan. nagi hums happily at the feeling of you squirting around him, Essen e clinging to his pubic hair too. 

for a second or two, seishiro relishes in the way you convulse around him, giving you a moment to calm down while he pacifies your high pitched squeals with gentle kisses along the side of your head. you’re still quivering when he collapses on top of you exhausted — neither of you having the capacity to speak properly. “d-don’t move… jus’ lay here with me,” he murmurs, tripping on his words. “‘m tired… don’t wanna move,”

you hardly have the strength to deny seishiro or push him off, snuggling into him as the pair of you roll onto your sides. “you’re tired… you almost slept for an eternity!” a laugh escapes you in reply.

“and guess who woke me up and made me work to cum. s’on you not me. fair is fair.” nagi quips back, burying his face into your neck.

you suppose that he has a point, nuzzling him from below as the two of you drift off without the fear of never waking up, of succumbing to lifelong sleep  — content, happy and fucked out by your sleeping beauty.

the end.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.

[solxamber]

Trash Novel Chronicles: My Knight is Too Loyal || Sebek Zigvolt

You wake up as the villainess in a novel that had to be written as a joke. The heroine is trying to ruin your life, but if you refuse to acknowledge her, then it’s not happening. Right? …Right??

It doesn't help that your knight, Sebek, is annoyingly endearing.

Series Masterlist

You were finally done.

After a grueling week of unpacking, assembling furniture that came with instructions written in an eldritch language, and resisting the urge to commit arson when you realized your kitchen had exactly one electrical outlet, your new apartment was finally livable. Spacious, well-lit, and with an actual window that didn’t face another building? A true luxury.

With a sigh of contentment, you set your trusty roomba loose to clean up the dust bunnies while you kicked back with your favorite pastime—reading an absolutely garbage webnovel.

This particular one had come highly recommended in the “so bad it’s good” category, and hoo boy, did it deliver.

The plot, as far as you could tell, was this:

Prince Malleus (overpowered second male lead) was best friends with the villainess (actually cool).

Sebek, loyal knight, was also sworn to protect the villainess. He liked her. They were childhood friends. He was ride or die for her.

Enter the heroine, who spawned out of nowhere, latched onto Malleus, and immediately decided that she needed Sebek’s loyalty so she could get closer to him.

She then proceeded to sabotage the villainess at every turn, and somehow no one thought this was weird.

The villainess, kept fighting back—until she got poisoned on Sebek’s watch.

Sebek, devastated, exiled himself in disgrace.

And then the Duke of the North (where did he come from???) married the heroine.

You had to put your phone down because you were WHEEZING.

How. HOW???

How was this woman out here killing the prince's best friend and still pulling a wedding out of it?? Who was writing this? Why did Sebek go into self-imposed exile when the obvious answer was to punt the heroine into the sun???

You wiped a tear from your eye, clutching your stomach. "Exiled himself in disgrace—oh my god, bro, what are you doing—"

Feeling the desperate need for a snack to recover from this literary war crime, you got up and made your way to the kitchen.

At that moment, your roomba—your once-trusted ally in the battle against dust—made a choice.

It bumped into the precariously stacked pile of moving boxes you had yet to sort through.

You turned just in time to see your doom.

A full avalanche of books, kitchenware, and your entire collection of novelty mugs came crashing down on you.

Your last thought before the world faded to black?

"Should’ve never trusted a roomba."

There were several ways you expected to wake up. A soft ray of sunlight filtering through your curtains? Sure. The soothing sound of birds chirping? Ideal. Maybe even a hangover if past-you made bad decisions? Understandable.

What you did not expect was to be jolted out of unconsciousness by the auditory equivalent of an angry airhorn.

“LORD MALLEUS, SHE'S STILL UNCONSCIOUS—PERHAPS SHE HAS FALLEN INTO AN ETERNAL SLUMBER FROM WHICH SHE WILL NEVER—!!!”

“Sebek,” another voice interrupted, eerily calm in comparison. “It will be fine.”

Sebek?

Like. The Sebek?

Your eyes snapped open like a possessed doll in a horror movie, and standing in front of you were none other than—drumroll please—Malleus Draconia and Sebek Zigvolt, looking like they had been ripped straight out of that godawful webnovel.

Sebek was vibrating with fury, looking a split second away from detonating like a nuclear warhead. Malleus, meanwhile, seemed vaguely relieved that you were awake.

Your brain struggled to reboot.

You looked down. Fancy dress? Check. Lace gloves? Check. Suspiciously villainous vibes? Check.

Oh no.

OH NO.

You were the villainess.

Malleus, in his infinite patience, took your absolutely deranged expression as a cue to explain, “The heroine tripped you, and you lost consciousness.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

You covered your face with your hands. “So now I have to deal with that dumbass?”

Sebek immediately whipped out his glove, preparing to slap someone into another dimension. “THIS INSOLENCE CANNOT STAND. I SHALL CHALLENGE HER TO A DUEL AND—”

“Sebek, no.”

“—VANQUISH HER FOR DARING TO—”

“Sebek. Put the glove down.”

“—BESMIRCH YOUR HONOR, MY LADY—”

“Sebek. No.”

Malleus, amused, simply observed as if watching an entertaining stage play. Probably because his solution would be to turn the heroine into a very apologetic pile of ashes.

Sebek begrudgingly reabsorbed his rage (for now), but he was still seething.

Malleus, after ensuring you were probably not about to die, excused himself and left the room. Sebek remained, arms crossed, radiating enough protective energy to function as a personal bodyguard and a security alarm.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Sebek, from now on, I’m just going to ignore her.”

Sebek visibly short-circuited.

“You—you're just going to let this blatant disrespect slide???”

“Yes.”

“But—”

“Yes.”

He looked like he had been personally betrayed by the laws of honor and decency, but after a long moment, he reluctantly agreed. Probably because you had the final say in this.

As soon as he left the room, you immediately face-planted into your pillow and let out the most guttural, despairing scream of your life.

Then, with great suffering, you dragged yourself up, because it was officially time to make a game plan to survive this absolute trash novel.

You did not want to go to this tea party.

In fact, if given the choice between enduring this or being launched via medieval trebuchet into the ocean, you would’ve chosen the ocean. At least drowning would’ve been fast.

But no. Your father insisted.

Something about “maintaining your standing,” and “showing the nobility that you are still strong,” and “not letting some lowborn upstart make a fool of you.”

As if the heroine had any power over you besides the supernatural ability to generate plot conveniences. As if you weren’t already suffering enough in this stupid novel, trying to survive a romance plotline with all the grace of a cat thrown into a bathtub.

And thus, you found yourself seated at an expensive table, sipping lukewarm tea, pretending to be interested in whatever the hell the noble ladies were talking about while resisting the urge to flip the entire table over and walk out.

To make matters worse, Sebek was having an existential crisis.

Not that he’d admit it, of course. But the way he was standing, practically vibrating with tension, scanning the tea party like a very aggressive meerkat—yeah. It was bad.

Sebek was on edge.

At any given moment, his gaze would dart from one thing to another, as if expecting a chandelier to drop on your head, a poisoned biscuit to be slipped onto your plate, or a rogue assassin to emerge from the hedges wielding a butter knife.

You finally had enough.

Turning toward him, you gripped his shoulders. Firmly.

“Sebek.”

His eyes snapped to you.

“Buddy.” You gave him a little shake. “Friend. You need to chill.”

“I AM PERFECTLY COMPOSED—”

Shake, shake. “Sebek. Chill.”

Sebek blinked. For the first time in history, he shut his mouth.

And then—oddly enough—you saw pink.

Like, an actual blush. A faint, barely-there dusting of color across his cheeks, the kind you’d associate with a lovestruck noble maiden, not a half-fae knight who could probably break your spine with his bare hands.

For a moment, you wondered if he was overheating. Should you dunk him in ice water?

But miraculously, Sebek actually calmed down.

At least, he stopped looking like he was about to tackle a waiter for breathing too close to you. That was progress.

And just when you thought you could finally coast through the rest of this miserable tea party in peace—

You saw her.

The Heroine.

She was across the garden, standing under a carefully curated arrangement of roses, twirling a delicate teacup in her dainty hands, looking exactly as picturesque as a main character should.

And she was batting her eyelashes at Sebek.

Like a lot.

Like some kind of malfunctioning Victorian doll trying to send Morse code with her eyelids.

Sebek, for his part, was slowly backing away. It was clear he wanted nothing to do with her.

Unfortunately, his retreat only seemed to embolden the heroine further. As if she had mistaken his disgust for shyness.

Sebek Zigzagged.

She Zigzagged.

Sebek took a sharp left.

She matched him, too fast, like an NPC with broken pathing.

And that’s when you decided enough was enough.

With the most subtle movement possible, you lifted a hand and motioned for him to come to you.

Sebek sprinted.

Like, full-speed, knocking over at least one butler in the process sprinted. By the time he reached you, he was breathing hard, eyes wide like he had just escaped something truly horrifying.

“Sebek,” you said, voice casual, “Stick by my side.”

"UNDERSTOOD," he immediately responded, standing directly next to you like a sentient stone wall.

And thus began the worst tea party of the heroine’s life.

For months, the heroine had followed the same battle strategy.

She’d make small, calculated jabs at you—little insults hidden under layers of fake concern, “Oh, you look rather pale today, are you unwell?” or “That color looks so… unique on you! Not many would be bold enough to wear it!”

The old villainess would always take the bait.

She’d snap back, argue, cause a scene. And in the process, the heroine would look like the poor, innocent victim just trying her best to be kind.

But you?

You ignored her.

And that? That was unacceptable.

The first attempt was a comment about your shoes.

She tilted her head, voice sickly sweet. “Oh, those shoes are… interesting. Are they custom-made?”

You blinked.

That was it. Just blinked.

Nothing more.

Then, without breaking eye contact, you turned to Sebek and pointed at the cake.

"Sebek, do you want some cake?"

“OF COURSE—”

The heroine twitched.

The second attempt was a jab at your hair.

She giggled, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, voice dripping with faux innocence. “Oh dear, your hair looks a little tangled today! Perhaps you should try this new serum I discovered—”

You did not react.

Instead, you casually picked up a sugar cube, inspected it like it was the most fascinating thing in existence, and dropped it into your tea.

Then you slowly turned away.

Like she was scenery.

Like she was part of the background.

The heroine’s eye twitched.

Then came the third and final straw.

She physically stood in your path.

Like, full-on NPC blocking a hallway in a video game levels of obstructive.

Waiting.

Wanting you to react.

You did not.

You simply stepped to the left and walked around her.

As if she were a particularly annoying potted plant.

That was it.

That was the moment.

The moment she realized you were not playing her game.

And she SNAPPED.

In a last-ditch effort, she actually grabbed at your dress like a cranky toddler in a tantrum. Unfortunately for her, you were faster.

With all the grace of a trained assassin, you sidestepped her so effortlessly that she nearly tripped forward. For one horrifying second, she flailed—arms windmilling—before catching herself.

Then, with a furious huff, she turned bright red, grabbed her skirts, and stormed out of the tea party.

Absolutely. Defeated.

The entire garden was dead silent.

Then, softly, Sebek cleared his throat.

“…Does this mean I can have another slice of cake?”

You took a victorious sip of your tea.

+1 point for you.

This was a mistake. A grave, sweaty mistake.

Sebek, in all his knightly wisdom, had decided that you needed to learn self-defense. That was fine in theory. In practice?

You were dying.

It had started simple—stance, grip, footwork. Except your stance was wobbly, your grip was weak, and your footwork consisted of tripping over absolutely nothing .

Sebek, ever the determined instructor, refused to give up on you.

“Again!” he barked, adjusting your posture for the hundredth time. “You must hold the blade firmly!”

You tried. You really did. But the moment he stepped back, the sword dipped dangerously in your grasp like it was actively trying to escape you.

Sebek sighed through his nose. “You need to engage your core!”

“Sebek,” you panted, struggling to lift the sword back up. “I have a core. It just doesn’t want to engage.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose like a disappointed tutor watching their pupil fail basic math.

“Again.”

You half-heartedly swung the sword. It wobbled like a particularly useless noodle.

Sebek looked physically pained.

After several more embarrassing attempts—including a particularly tragic one where you almost dropped the sword on your own foot—you finally gave up.

You collapsed onto the ground, dramatically splaying out in the dirt like a knight who had perished not in battle, but in sheer spiritual defeat.

“I can’t do this,” you groaned, flopping an arm over your face. “I’m not built for the knight life.”

Sebek’s shadow loomed over you, exasperated. “You’re giving up already?”

“Yes.”

“Unacceptable. A true warrior never surrenders!”

“Well, I’m not a warrior, Sebek. I am a delicate aristocrat. My hobbies include drinking tea and not getting stabbed.”

Sebek crossed his arms, preparing to argue—but before he could launch into a speech about honor and duty and the sacred art of not dying, you simply muttered:

“That’s why you have to be my knight forever.”

The complaints instantly stopped.

Sebek didn’t say a word.

You assumed he had accepted your logic.

You didn’t see the way his back straightened slightly, or the way his expression softened into something oddly pleased. You definitely didn’t catch the way a smug, satisfied little smile flickered across his face—like a knight who had just secured his lifelong oath without even trying.

Instead, you remained on the ground, still dramatically sprawled out, waiting for him to launch into another lecture.

But nothing came.

“…Sebek?”

“Hmph.” He turned, suddenly far too content to argue. “If that is the case, then I suppose there’s no need to force you into training.”

You squinted up at him. “Wait. That’s it? You’re giving up?”

“I am merely accepting my duty,” he said smoothly. “After all, a knight must always protect their charge.”

You stared.

Suspicious.

Sebek was never this agreeable.

But, ultimately, you were too tired to question it.

With a sigh of relief, you let yourself fully relax into the grass, already looking forward to a nap.

Meanwhile, Sebek stood guard over you, looking far too smug for someone who had just lost an argument.

This was supposed to be a normal afternoon.

A nice, quiet, peaceful moment of watching Sebek ride his horse like he was leading an army into battle while Silver sat on his, perfectly relaxed, looking like the human embodiment of a soft exhale.

Meanwhile, to your right, Malleus and Lilia were having a debate that was growing increasingly unhinged.

"I'm telling you, Malleus," Lilia said with the confidence of a man who had never once been stopped from committing a crime. "If you want someone, you simply steal them away! That’s romance!"

Malleus, who had the power to obliterate reality with a flick of his wrist, rubbed his temples like a deeply tired office worker. "Lilia, that is not romance. That is abduction."

Lilia waved him off like he was swatting at a fly. "Semantics."

You turned your head just in time to see Malleus pinching the bridge of his nose, which was deeply funny because what did he even have to be stressed about? He was practically untouchable. And yet, somehow, Lilia was succeeding in emotionally exhausting him.

You had no idea how to contribute to this conversation, so you simply accepted that your afternoon would be full of crimes against logic.

But then Lilia’s sharp, ancient gaze zeroed in on you like a sniper locking onto a target.

"So," he said smoothly, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Have you decided who you'll take to the ball?"

You blinked.

The ball? Oh. Right. That was a thing.

You mulled it over for a second, tapping your fingers against your knee.

Logically, Sebek was already glued to your side at all times. He was practically your own personal security alarm, complete with flashing lights, blaring sirens, and the sheer, undying volume of a man who had never whispered in his entire life.

Taking him would be easy.

"I'll probably take Sebek," you said casually.

There was a beat of silence.

Then—

Lilia’s smile widened.

Not just any smile. A knowing smile. The kind that said, I have seen civilizations rise and fall, and yet nothing amuses me more than whatever is about to happen next.

Malleus, previously neutral, now looked deeply, deeply intrigued.

You squinted at them. "Why are you both looking at me like I'm a stray dog that just solved a math problem?"

Before you could demand answers, Sebek and Silver came back.

And Lilia—menace incarnate—immediately turned to Sebek and declared, with the utmost delight:

"Sebek! You've been chosen as their escort for the ball!"

Silver looked politely interested. Sebek—

Sebek crashed.

Like he hit an invisible wall.

For a second, he just stood there, expression frozen in a mix of shock, honor, and the sheer terror of being handed a social situation he wasn’t prepared for.

Then, in a grand act of buffering, he stiffened, clenched his fists, and proclaimed with all the force of a man declaring war:

"OF COURSE! AS YOUR LOYAL KNIGHT, IT IS ONLY NATURAL THAT I ACCOMPANY YOU!"

And then—before you could so much as blink—he turned on his heel and stomped off, as if he had just been given an urgent mission from Malleus himself.

The moment he was gone, you turned back to the three remaining culprits—only to find all of them looking at you like you were the underdog in a sports movie who had just pulled off a game-winning shot.

Lilia’s grin was downright diabolical.

Malleus was observing you like a scientist who had just discovered a new species.

Silver nodded, as if he had been let in on a joke you weren’t privy to.

Your eye twitched. "Okay. WHAT."

Lilia clapped you on the back like a proud father. "Oh, don’t mind us," he said airily. "We’re simply excited to see how this unfolds!"

Malleus inclined his head. "Indeed. It will be most… fascinating."

Silver hummed in agreement, eyes twinkling with something dangerously close to amusement.

You stared.

Sebek was still stomping off in the distance, probably preparing himself for battle against an imaginary threat.

Meanwhile, these three looked like they had just bet on a winning horse.

You were so bored.

As someone who had once lived in the glorious era of internet, memes, and instant entertainment, being isekai’d into a medieval fantasy novel was actual hell.

Your choices for passing the time were:

Sitting at a tea party listening to Lady Whatever gossip about how her second cousin’s neighbor allegedly married his horse (scandalous).

Shopping, which involved pretending to care about embroidery while avoiding getting guilt-tripped into buying a hat the size of a carriage wheel.

But today? Today was different.

There was a theater performance. And you were going.

Sebek, of course, was accompanying you, because you weren’t allowed to go anywhere without your personal security system.

The two of you arrived, found your seats, and settled in as the play began.

It was a forbidden romance between a noblewoman and her loyal knight.

You squinted.

That was it? That was the forbidden part?

What, was it slightly inconvenient for them to date? Were they going to act like this was the most tragic love story of all time when the biggest obstacle was mild disapproval?

You were expecting a real problem—an ancient family feud, a cursed bloodline, maybe even a dragon kidnapping someone for fun.

But no. It was just a noble and her knight, staring deeply into each other’s eyes while the orchestra swelled dramatically.

You side-eyed Sebek, about to make a snide comment.

And that’s when you noticed. Sebek was sweating.

His jaw was clenched. His hands were gripping the arms of his seat like the very concept of upholstery had personally insulted him.

And most importantly?

He was actively avoiding looking at you.

On stage, the knight fell to one knee, passionately declaring, “My lady, I have sworn to protect you—but in truth, my heart has belonged to you from the moment we met.”

Sebek’s grip on his seat tightened.

You turned back to the stage, more confused now.

The noblewoman gasped, placing a delicate hand on her chest. “Sir Knight, I—!”

Cue dramatic embrace. Cue Sebek looking like he was experiencing an existential crisis in real time.

For the next twenty minutes, Sebek refused to so much as glance in your direction.

The show ended with a completely unnecessary death scene (the knight got stabbed protecting the noblewoman from a bandit with the world’s worst aim), and as soon as the curtains fell, Sebek practically launched himself out of his seat.

You walked out together, the evening air cool against your skin.

Sebek, still refusing to look at you, was marching forward with the kind of stiff, overly formal movements that meant his brain was short-circuiting.

You raised an eyebrow. "Are you good?"

"I am perfectly fine," he said, a little too quickly.

You shrugged, brushing it off. Sebek being Sebek. He was always like this.

You didn’t notice how his hands twitched at his sides.

Or how, for one painfully fleeting moment during the play, he had imagined what it would be like—just once—to take your hand, without the excuse of duty.

But only Sebek and the dark theater would ever know that.

Festivals were supposed to be fun.

Supposed to be.

But for Sebek, this was nothing short of a battlefield.

The night had started normally enough. Malleus, Lilia, Silver, Sebek, and you had all arrived together, the festival in full swing around you. Lanterns glowed softly in the trees, music played from all corners of the square, and the air was thick with the smell of food—grilled meats, sweet pastries, roasted nuts. It was the perfect evening for a carefree stroll.

And then, suspiciously quickly, things took a turn.

“Ah,” Lilia suddenly said, snapping his fingers. “I just remembered—I must go investigate the historical significance of festival games.”

Silver, who had been mid-bite into a fried pastry, blinked. “What?”

Lilia was already gone.

Malleus nodded sagely. “Indeed, I must also depart. There are… matters of great importance I must attend to.”

You stared at him. “You’re about to go stare at gargoyles, aren’t you?”

Malleus did not dignify this with an answer.

Then came Silver’s turn. He at least tried to make it convincing.

“I, um—” He paused, brain clearly short-circuiting. “I have to—”

Sebek, ever the loyal soldier, stepped forward. “SILVER, WHEREVER YOU GO, WE SHALL—”

Silver immediately put a hand on Sebek’s shoulder. “No. You both stay.”

Sebek froze.

Suspicion bloomed in his sharp green eyes. “Why?”

Silver looked at you. Then back at Sebek. Then at you again. And then—like a father setting his son off into the world—he simply patted Sebek’s shoulder and said, “Have fun.”

Then he left.

Just like that, you and Sebek were alone.

You turned to Sebek, shrugged, and grabbed his hand. “Alright then! Let’s go have fun.”

Sebek ascended into a new state of panic.

One: You Held His Hand.

His hand.

Which was now holding your hand.

He was a knight. A protector. His hand had wielded swords, raised shields, sworn loyalty—

His hand had never done this.

“W-Wait, I—!”

You, completely oblivious to the fact that you were literally ruining him, simply smiled. “Come on, let’s get food first!”

And just like that, he was dragged into the festival.

Two: You Fed Him.

Sebek had prepared for many things in life.

Betrayal? Yes. Combat? Absolutely. The burden of responsibility? Without question.

But he had not prepared for you pressing a warm pastry into his hands and saying, “Try this! It’s really good.”

He stared at it like it was an enemy.

“I—this is unnecessary! I should be watching for threats, not—”

Then you, with absolutely zero hesitation, took a bite from your own pastry, hummed thoughtfully, and then just—just held it up to his mouth.

Sebek froze.

“…What,” he said, voice dangerously unstable, “are you doing?”

“Letting you try mine.”

Unacceptable.

UNACCEPTABLE.

This was wrong. You were a noble, he was your knight. His duty was to protect you, not to—to—

To have feelings.

To want things.

But you were still holding the pastry up, completely unaware of the sheer war happening in his mind.

So, with the slow hesitation of a man walking into a death trap, Sebek leaned down and took a small, precise bite.

…It was delicious.

…This was still unacceptable.

“See?” you said brightly, taking another bite yourself. “Tastes better when you share.”

Sebek almost dropped dead on the spot.

Three: The Smile.

Oh, that smile.

You were leading him from stall to stall, still holding his hand, still treating this like a perfectly normal outing and not the absolute nightmare it was for his fragile, suffering heart.

And every time you turned back to him—every time you laughed at something ridiculous, or smiled when he grumbled about stall vendors trying to scam you, or simply looked at him with that casual, easy warmth—

Something in him broke.

Not in a bad way. But absolutely in a way that would jeopardize his purpose. In the way that made him want to 1v1 the entire world just to make sure you always smiled like that.

Sebek was not meant for this.

He was a knight. A warrior. A protector.

He was not meant to look at you and wish, with every inch of his being, that he could hold your hand not because of duty, but because you wanted him to.

The ball was going well.

Which, frankly, was a miracle.

You were three glasses of wine in, the music was pleasant, and—most importantly—there was no heroine in sight.

Malleus was at peace, sipping his drink like an ancient dragon who had finally hoarded enough gold. Lilia was across the room, very seriously trying to convince a noble to invest in bat jousting (“Picture it, my dear baron—tiny suits of armor, high-speed aerial combat, think of the prestige!”). Silver was half-asleep at the table, so still that he was practically furniture.

And Sebek? Sebek was eating with the sheer intensity of a man who had never been allowed to sit and enjoy a meal in his life.

You were basking in the rare moment of peace when—

She arrived.

The heroine waltzed in, all curls and delicate elegance, scanning the room like she owned the place.

Immediately, you activated Ignore Mode.

But then—

Then she spoke.

“I challenge you!”

You blinked.

Challenge me to what? A duel? A political debate? A staring contest??

And then, with the smuggest expression known to man, she stepped aside to reveal her new(?) knight. You choked on your drink.

Because her knight—

Looked like Sebek.

Like, exactly like Sebek.

Same height, same build, suspiciously similar armor—but the worst part?

His hair was green.

Like she had dyed it.

You nearly dropped your wine.

You turned to Sebek.

Then to knockoff Sebek.

Then to Malleus—who was so absorbed in his perfect night that he hadn’t even registered the incoming disaster.

Then back to fake Sebek.

Sebek, who had been peacefully eating his steak, suddenly froze.

“WHAT IN THE GREAT SEVEN—” His chair scraped across the floor as he stood, eyes wide with pure fury.

The heroine beamed. “My knight will prove his superiority over yours! A true battle of skill and honor!”

You were still stuck on the hair.

"DID YOU DYE THIS MAN’S HAIR GREEN?!"

Fake Sebek smirked, folding his arms. “A knight should be willing to make sacrifices for his lady.”

Sebek looked ready to commit several war crimes.

“This is an INSULT!” He stepped forward, eyes blazing, voice booming. “YOU THINK YOU CAN MATCH ME WITH A PALE IMITATION?! I—”

Oh, hell no.

You had already suffered through so much stupidity in this world. You were not about to let Sebek engage in a battle of the bootlegs just because the heroine had gone completely off the rails.

You grabbed Sebek’s arm.

He whipped around like an enraged storm god. “MY LADY, I MUST—”

“No,” you said flatly. “Not worth it.”

“But—”

“Sebek.”

“She—”

“Sebek.”

“She dares—”

“Sebek. Please.”

His jaw locked. He looked like he wanted to argue. Like he needed to argue. But then you let out a long, exhausted sigh and said,

“Just dance with me instead.”

Sebek stopped breathing.

The entire ballroom faded. The heroine? Gone. Bootleg Sebek? Who? The audience of nosy nobles? Irrelevant.

All that mattered was that you—the person he had sworn to protect, the one he had dedicated his entire being to—had just asked him to dance.

He swallowed thickly. “O-Of course.”

And so, you took his hand and led him to the ballroom floor.

Sebek was stiff at first, like he was concentrating too hard on being perfect, but as the music swelled, he relaxed into the rhythm, his movements smoother, more natural.

And as he guided you across the floor, one hand firm at your waist, the other clasping yours, Sebek couldn’t help but stare.

You were laughing softly, still tipsy, the golden chandeliers casting a warm glow on your skin. The silk of your gown shimmered as you moved, and your smile—

Gods. Your smile.

Sebek knew, without a doubt, that he would do anything to keep it on your face.

And you?

You had no idea.

Because to you, this was just a dance.

But to Sebek—

You looked like a dream come true.

It was finally here. The moment where, according to the absolute literary war crime that was this novel, you were supposed to get poisoned, collapse dramatically, and set off a chain reaction that would end with Sebek exiling himself like a tragic Shakespearean protagonist.

Except this time?

You knew it was coming.

And you were about to flip the script so hard the author would feel it in whatever dimension they were in.

The heroine, as predictable as ever, had invited you to yet another tea party—probably hoping that by the time the poison kicked in, she'd have a perfect view of your untimely demise. You, of course, had accepted with a sweet smile and a mind full of schemes.

Now, seated at a pristine garden table with floral arrangements worth more than some small villages, you watched as she made her move. It was almost laughable how obvious she was. Her eyes flickered towards the maid as your tea was poured, the subtle anticipation in her expression so transparent you were honestly a little embarrassed for her.

You daintily lifted the cup, swirling the tea, inhaling its floral scent. Then, you pretended to take a sip.

Then, you threw yourself into the most dramatic, gut-wrenching, Oscar-worthy performance of your life.

Your body convulsed. Your hand flew to your throat. You gasped, choked, wheezed like a dying fish, and flung your arms out as if desperately grasping at the heavens themselves. You knocked over a plate. A fork clattered to the ground. A lesser noble screamed.

And then, with the grace of a Victorian woman in a corset two sizes too small, you collapsed onto the ground, limbs twitching for good measure.

Chaos erupted.

Ladies shrieked. Servants scrambled. One elderly duke fainted in the background. Even you were impressed. If this world had award shows, you would’ve already been giving an acceptance speech.

And then.

You heard it.

A chair screeching against stone. The heavy, unmistakable clang of armor.

Oh.

Oh, no.

You had made a critical miscalculation.

Sebek.

Sebek, who had been standing behind you the entire time. Sebek, who had just witnessed his charge collapse in agony.

Sebek, who was now standing over the heroine with his sword at her throat.

The entire tea party came to a screeching halt.

The heroine was frozen in terror, because Sebek wasn’t just angry—he was absolutely seething. His hands were steady, his grip unwavering, but the rage in his eyes? The barely-restrained fury crackling in the air around him? That was the look of a man seconds away from turning this entire tea party into a medieval execution.

“How dare you,” Sebek growled, his voice low and deadly, “I swear upon my honor—you will not leave this garden alive.”

You were so close to victory. So close. But no. No, Sebek had to go and initiate an actual murder.

The heroine, pale as a ghost, opened her mouth—probably to sob out some terrible excuse—but Sebek applied just the tiniest bit of pressure with his blade. A thin line of blood beaded at her neck.

The heroine whimpered.

Sebek narrowed his eyes.

Oh, he was fully committed to this.

Then, from your position on the ground, you made a small choking noise.

Sebek snapped around so fast he nearly decapitated her anyway.

His fury instantly shifted into sheer, unfiltered panic.

“My lady—!” He abandoned the heroine entirely, dropping to his knees and scooping you up into his arms as if you were seconds from death. "Stay with me!" His voice wavered, as if sheer willpower alone could force you to keep breathing. "You will not die here, I swear it!"

Okay. Maybe you should have accounted for this.

Before you could get a word in, Sebek scooped you up like a sack of potatoes and booked it inside.

The moment he deposited you onto a chaise lounge like a damsel in distress, you sat up and gave him your best sheepish grin.

“Sebek, I—”

But Sebek did not look relieved.

Sebek looked furious.

"You mean to tell me," he began, his voice escalating, "THAT WAS A LIE?!"

You winced. “Sebek, I—”

"You were NEVER in danger?! NEVER TRULY POISONED?!" His entire body was vibrating. "YOU—"

His voice kept rising.

He was pacing now, movements erratic, his heavy boots thudding against the floor. His breathing was uneven. His hands were shaking.

Gods. Gods, you felt bad.

Before he could work himself into an early grave, you grabbed his face and pulled him close.

"Sebek," you said firmly. "Breathe."

His breath hitched.

You could feel the tension in his jaw, the way his entire being was still radiating panic and betrayal.

Slowly, his breathing evened out. His hands, still clenched at his sides, relaxed.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, thumbs brushing lightly against his cheeks. "I should have told you."

Sebek swallowed hard, staring at you like he had just walked through hell itself.

"I could never bear to lose you." His voice was raw, barely above a whisper.

And then, as if exhaling the weight of the entire world, he bowed his head slightly and said, “Forgive me for my insolence.”

Before you could even process what that meant—

His lips were on yours.

Soft, hesitant, yet utterly consuming.

It lasted one perfect moment—

And then reality kicked in.

Sebek stiffened. His eyes snapped open.

"I— I HAVE OVERSTEPPED— I APOLOGIZE—"

And then.

Sebek fled.

Full-speed.

Out the door.

Down the hall.

Possibly into another plane of existence.

You sat there, dazed, stunned, blushing so hard you were about to burst into flames.

-

You were losing your mind.

Malleus, on the other hand, was having the time of his life.

He sat there, sipping his tea with the serene patience of a man who had definitely seen this coming, while you paced back and forth in front of him, unraveling like a badly-knitted sweater.

"It was just stress!" you declared, throwing your hands in the air. "Right? I mean, high emotions, near-death experience, classic knightly panic—textbook impulse decision!"

Malleus hummed, his expression one of deep, profound amusement. "Oh?"

You pointed at him like you had just presented irrefutable evidence in a murder trial. "YES. Right?! That has to be it!"

Malleus took a slow sip of his tea. "Or…"

You froze.

Malleus paused dramatically—like he was a host on some medieval reality show about to drop a major plot twist—then said, "Perhaps he has feelings for you."

You made a noise. A noise that had never existed before, somewhere between a gasp, a wheeze, and the sound of a tea kettle violently exploding.

Malleus raised an eyebrow, watching as your soul actively left your body.

"That’s—" You flailed. Actually flailed. "That’s absurd!"

Malleus nodded sagely. "Yes. Very absurd." He took another sip of tea, his tone so dry you nearly threw something at him.

You began pacing again, hands on your head, thoughts spiraling into the abyss.

"Maybe—maybe he thinks he has feelings for me," you reasoned, grasping at straws like your life depended on it. "But really, it’s just—devotion! Yes! Classic knightly devotion! It’s not romantic, it’s duty! He admires me, respects me, honors me—"

"—Kissed you."

You choked.

Malleus was smirking now. He was actually enjoying this.

"Okay, but," you continued, desperately trying to dig yourself out of the emotional pit you had fallen into, "what if—what if it was just a slip-up? A moment of weakness? What if he didn’t mean it—?"

Malleus tilted his head. "Then why did he run away? Why did he not apologize?"

You stopped dead in your tracks.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Because he did run away. Full speed. Maximum acceleration. Like a man who had just realized what he had done and could not face the consequences.

Your hands slowly lowered from your head.

Malleus set his teacup down with a soft clink. "I would say that is not the behavior of a man who does not have feelings for someone."

You sat down in the nearest chair, staring into the void.

Malleus observed you with quiet satisfaction.

The way you were actively short-circuiting before his eyes? The absolute catastrophic mental gymnastics you were performing to deny the obvious?

Oh, yes.

This was better than theater.

Meanwhile, Sebek was also suffering.

And Lilia was having the best day of his life.

Sebek was pacing, marching back and forth across the room like he was preparing for battle, arms gesturing wildly as he ranted to no one in particular.

"I—I do not—I cannot—" His voice cracked slightly before he squared his shoulders, forcing himself into a state of denial so powerful it could deflect magic. "IT WAS MERELY A MOMENT OF TEMPORARY EMOTIONAL INSTABILITY!"

Lilia, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, was vibrating. His hands were clasped in front of his mouth, his entire body shaking as he barely contained his laughter. His eyes gleamed with pure, unfiltered joy.

"Ah, young love," he sighed dramatically, swaying slightly as if overcome by emotion. "So passionate! So tumultuous!" He clutched his chest. "So full of suffering!"

Sebek whirled around, offended to his very core.

"It is NOT love!" he practically roared, and Silver, who had been trying to stay calm, rubbed his temples like a tired therapist dealing with a particularly stubborn client.

"Sebek," Silver said, voice steady, soothing, rational. "You kissed her."

Sebek's eye twitched.

"It was an accident!"

Silver raised an eyebrow. "How do you accidentally kiss someone?"

Sebek flailed. "IT WAS THE HEAT OF THE MOMENT!"

"Mmhm~" Lilia hummed, practically swaying with delight.

Sebek turned to him, pointing like he was about to declare war. "STOP—STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!"

"Like what?" Lilia grinned. "Like I just witnessed the most entertaining thing to happen in centuries?"

"YES!"

Lilia cackled.

Sebek turned back to Silver, desperate for support, but Silver was already shaking his head.

"Sebek," Silver said patiently. "You’re in love."

Sebek physically recoiled. His entire soul left his body for a second before it returned, but not before his brain short-circuited.

"NO!"

"Yes," Silver said simply.

"Preposterous!" Sebek thundered, arms flailing again. "I am a knight! Her protector! I have sworn my loyalty to her! I would give my LIFE for her—!"

"Yes," Silver interrupted, nodding. "Because you love her."

Sebek froze.

His mouth opened. Then closed.

Then opened again.

Nothing came out.

Lilia, who was practically incandescent with joy, clasped his hands together and leaned in, eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Oh my," Lilia purred. "He's realizing it."

Sebek visibly malfunctioned.

His arms tensed, his jaw clenched, his brain clearly trying to override the obvious conclusion with pure willpower alone.

And then, because he had absolutely no idea what to do with himself—

Sebek turned on his heel and sprinted out of the room at full speed.

Lilia howled with laughter, throwing himself back onto the couch.

Silver simply sighed, rubbing his temples again. "You know he's going to deny this for at least another week, right?"

"Oh, let him struggle~" Lilia giggled, delighted beyond words. "This is better than theater."

The heroine was losing her goddamn mind.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. She was the main character. She was supposed to triumph over adversity! She was supposed to defeat her rival, claim her rightful place at Malleus’s side, and bask in the admiration of high society as they all realized how special and wonderful she was!

And yet—

You.

You, the person who was supposed to be her greatest adversary, her foil, her dramatic counterpart—

Did. Not. Care.

Every time she tried to one-up you, every time she schemed and plotted and prepared some devastating social maneuver to put you in your place—

You ignored her.

Not even with thinly veiled contempt. Not with cold, calculated disdain. No.

You ignored her like you would ignore a particularly unimpressive rock on the side of the road.

Like a piece of furniture. Like she was a background character in her own goddamn story.

She had thrown everything at you.

She had made subtle barbs about your outfits—Oh, what a… bold choice of color. Not everyone could pull that off.

You had simply nodded and thanked her before returning to making googly eyes at your knight.

She had gone out of her way to outshine you at every event—grander gowns, more dramatic entrances, carefully curated conversations that should have drawn everyone’s attention to her.

You?

You barely registered that she was there.

She had even dyed her own knight’s hair green for fuck’s sake.

And you had just—

Ignored it.

You hadn’t even looked surprised. No scandalized gasp, no pointed glances, no passive-aggressive remark about imitation being the sincerest form of flattery.

Nothing.

The absolute indifference nearly sent her into a breakdown right then and there.

But still—still—she had held out hope.

Because there was one final, tried-and-true method to defeat a villainess.

Poison.

A noblewoman’s tea party. A carefully laced cup. A gasp, a choke, a dramatic collapse.

It was foolproof.

Except—

Except you had pretended to drink it.

She hadn��t even noticed at first. She had simply sipped her tea, waiting for your inevitable demise—only to watch you pull off an Oscar worthy performance.

And now?

Now the entirety of high society hated her.

Not because they actually cared about you, no—

But because attempting to poison someone at a social gathering was just so terribly gauche.

It was uncivilized. It was desperate. It was cringe.

And worse?

She had failed.

One noblewoman had sighed, shaking her head. “Poisoning your rival? How utterly common. If she were going to do it, the least she could’ve done was be subtle.”

Another had tsked, “Imagine—spending all that effort trying to destroy someone only for them to sit back and make googly eyes at their knight instead.”

That one nearly made her explode.

Because that? That was the worst part.

Through all of this, you weren’t even fighting back.

You weren’t scheming. You weren’t plotting revenge. You weren’t even paying attention to her anymore.

No.

You were too busy pining over Sebek.

At first, she thought it was coincidence. A weird little side note in this battle.

But no.

She saw it everywhere now.

You, brushing your hand against his as he held a door open for you. You, laughing at something he said in that ridiculous, overly loud voice. You, looking at him like he was the most precious thing in existence while he continued to act like a knight-shaped golden retriever with too many feelings.

It was infuriating.

And now, after everything, after all the time and energy and sanity she had lost trying to make you engage, she woke up one morning and realized—

She had lost.

Not in some grand, cinematic battle of wits. Not in an explosive confrontation.

No.

She had lost in the most humiliating way possible.

Because you never even considered her a threat to begin with.

She had spent all this time clawing her way to the top of a rivalry that only existed in her own head.

And the person she had chosen as her nemesis had treated her with the same level of importance as a salad garnish.

It was over.

She was done.

She picked up a pen, wrote a letter, and signed it with the exhausted resignation of a woman who had fully accepted defeat.

Lady,

I give up. I’m leaving. Enjoy your ridiculous romance with your ridiculous knight.

—Heroine

Then, without any fanfare, she packed her things, walked out of her estate, and left the country.

And you?

You didn’t even notice until a servant handed you the letter over breakfast.

You blinked at it, took a bite of toast, and read the whole thing while casually sipping your tea.

Then you folded it neatly, set it aside, and promptly forgot about it.

Sebek Zigvolt was avoiding you.

Not in the dramatic, storming-off, I-shall-never-speak-to-you-again way that some lovesick noble might after a scandalous incident at a ball. No, that would have been too easy.

Instead, he had apparently decided that the most rational way to handle his predicament was to maintain a perfect six-foot gap between the two of you at all times.

Like some sort of ridiculous, self-imposed restraining order.

You noticed it immediately, of course, because how could you not?

The first morning, you stepped into the drawing room, still slightly groggy from waking up, and found Sebek already there, standing so rigidly that he looked like he had been installed into the floorboards.

“Good morning, Sebek.”

Sebek, a man who had never once in his life failed to respond to you immediately, took a full three seconds to react, his head snapping toward you like a marionette whose strings had been yanked too hard.

“MY LADY!” he barked, far too loud for this early in the morning. “GOOD MORNING TO YOU AS WELL!”

Then, before you could say another word, he pivoted sharply and took three steps back.

Three big, deliberate, backward steps.

And then?

He stared past you.

Not at you. Past you.

Like he had suddenly developed an intense fascination with the wall.

And this? This continued.

For three. Entire. Days.

At breakfast, he sat exactly six feet away from your chair and stabbed his eggs with the precision and fury of a man attempting to exorcise a demon from his plate.

At social events, he positioned himself like some tragically lovesick ghost, haunting the edge of the room with a tormented expression, still very much guarding you but now also acting like being within arm’s reach might cause him to spontaneously combust.

Even in casual conversations, if you took a step forward?

Sebek took a step back.

And the worst part?

He was so obvious about it.

Like, if he was actually trying to be subtle, you could at least pretend it wasn’t happening. But no, this man was out here moving like an NPC whose pathfinding AI was breaking.

By the third day, you had reached your limit.

You had tolerated his weird little knightly existential crisis long enough.

So, that morning, when you saw him standing—once again—exactly six feet away, rigid as a lamppost, pointedly pretending that the tree outside the window was the most interesting thing he had ever seen in his life, you snapped.

“Sebek.”

No response.

“Sebek.”

Nothing.

You took a step forward.

Sebek immediately took a step back.

You took another step.

Sebek tried to escape.

Absolutely not.

With all the swiftness of a person completely done with this nonsense, you closed the gap, stepping right into his space, and before he could even think about scrambling backward like some flustered fawn, you grabbed his face and squished his stupid, handsome, stubborn cheeks between your hands.

Sebek made an absolutely incomprehensible noise.

“W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! THIS IS HIGHLY—!!”

He was spluttering. Stammering. Eyes darting around wildly like he was searching for an escape route despite the fact that you were holding his actual face.

“Sebek,” you said, exasperated, thumbs pressing into his cheeks as he failed spectacularly to regain any of his usual knightly composure. “Do you like me?”

Sebek, in his infinite, ridiculous wisdom, chose the absolute worst possible response.

“I—! I AM YOUR KNIGHT! TO ENTERTAIN SUCH FRIVOLITIES WOULD BE A DERELECTION OF DUTY!”

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and then, with the patience of someone trying to explain basic math to a particularly dense brick wall, you groaned, “Sebek, we are not in a play. Do you like me or not!?”

Sebek made a noise somewhere between a strangled honk and a dying animal.

His entire face turned so red that for a moment, you were genuinely concerned that he might be about to pass out.

Then—

He nodded.

It was tiny, barely perceptible, like he was afraid saying it too loudly would cause the heavens to smite him on the spot, but it was there.

And that was all you needed.

Before he could start raving about duty or oaths or whatever dramatic monologue he was preparing, you surged forward and kissed him.

Sebek froze.

Completely, entirely, utterly still.

For half a second, you worried that you had broken him.

But then—

Sebek kissed you back.

With the fervor of a man who had been waiting his entire life for this exact moment.

It took thirty full minutes to convince Sebek that you were, in fact, not in a tragic, forbidden love story.

Ten minutes of him pacing, ranting about duty and propriety, gripping the air like an overdramatic stage actor monologuing in the rain.

Thirty minutes of you, standing there, patiently waiting for his brain to catch up to reality.

"Sebek," you said for the fifteenth time, arms crossed, exasperated but fond. "We are not in a Shakespearean tragedy."

Sebek opened his mouth to argue, paused, frowned, then slowly closed it.

You could see the war happening inside him. His knightly instincts were screaming about honor and responsibility, while the part of him that had just kissed you—twice now—was standing in the corner, sweating profusely.

He inhaled deeply, squared his shoulders, and nodded.

"...Very well," he said, stiffly, as if forcing himself to accept that the universe had, in fact, allowed him to be happy.

You smirked and reached for his hand. "Great. Now come on, we’re late."

Sebek made a dying noise when you intertwined your fingers with his.

When you arrived, Malleus, Lilia, and Silver were already gathered in the garden, basking in the afternoon sun.

The moment you and Sebek showed up—hand in hand—Lilia's entire face lit up.

"Ah-ha!" Lilia cried, delighted, spinning toward the others with a mischievous flourish. "Pay up!"

Malleus sighed, deeply, as if betrayed by fate itself. Silver grunted, reaching into his pocket.

And then, right in front of you, the two of them handed Lilia actual money.

You blinked. “Wait. What just happened?”

Lilia grinned, tucking his winnings away. “Oh, just a little wager~”

You narrowed your eyes. "What kind of wager?"

Lilia, positively glowing with mischief, said, "I bet that you two would get together sooner rather than later."

Malleus, looking far too composed for someone who had just lost a bet, adjusted his sleeves and said, "I, on the other hand, estimated that it would take at least another year."

Silver sighed. "I thought it’d take two."

You gawked. "YOU WERE TAKING BETS ON THIS?!"

Sebek was mortified.

"YOU GAMBLED ON OUR HONOR?!" he thundered, appalled, offended, visibly vibrating.

Lilia cackled. “Oh, relax, dear boy! I was simply invested in your happiness!"

Sebek looked like he wanted to die.

So, naturally, you turned toward him, leaned in, and kissed him on the cheek.

Sebek stopped yelling immediately.

You could physically see the protest die in his throat. His entire body locked up, his ears turned red, and his eyes darted away as if you had just knocked the ability to argue right out of him.

Malleus, entirely too amused, hummed. “Curious. That seems to be an effective method of silencing him.”

Lilia beamed. “Oh, I love this development.”

Silver, utterly exhausted, rubbed his temple. "I don't even know why I bother at this point."

You just laughed, perfectly content, sitting beside your knight and the people you loved.

Masterlist

Can't believe this is the 15th part already!

[tired-teacher-blog]

When your baby started kicking for the first time, you immediately sprinted towards your husband who was still deep in slumber in the comfort of your shared king sized bed, it was only 3:30 in the morning after all, a little too early to rise, and you would have been snuggled up to him if your bladder capacity hadn't prevented it for the third time that night.

_ "Katsuki wake up wake up, you have to feel this! It's moving!" you announced in a loud whisper while shaking him lightly.

_ "Huh what, what's moving? Do I need to blow it up?" he was obviously disoriented as he tried to blink the sleep away, knitting his eyebrows in concentration so he could focus his blurry vision on you.

_ "What? No, are you crazy?" you bursted out laughing at his unexpected response, and waited for him to gain full consciousness as he wobblily sat up to face you.

_ "Is everything okay?" he reached out to gently trace your cheek, and you could tell he was fully awake at last.

_ "Here, feel this," you took his other hand and placed it on your bulging tummy, "our baby is moving."

His eyes widened and his mouth hung open in obvious amazement, and you watched in awe as your husband's face lit up at the new feeling under his palm.

_ "This is real, we're actually having a baby." the wide, almost face-splitting smile appearing on his face was the same one he had when you announced your pregnancy a few months ago, and the warmth it evoked in you was also the same as back then.

_ "We are Katsuki." and you couldn't help the tears of joy welling up in your eyes as you watched the bliss radiating from him, placing your hands on top of his and holding on tightly.

That night -and every following night- he kept his hand on your belly when you climbed back to bed, holding you from behind and rubbing soothing patterns on your tightening skin while kissing your neck and whispering sweet 'I love you's' and promises for eternal happiness together, until you finally drifted off again.

[spxllcxstxr]

Cuddling with Jayce and Viktor • Headcanon

(Gif not mine)

Request: could you please write some jayvik x reader cuddling headcanons? I looooved your dating headcanons🥰🤭 -- anon

Warnings: heart melting fluff, that's literally all it is

A.N: Anon, I was delighted to get this request because I want to cuddle with jayvik at all times. Also I'm glad you liked the headcanons!! I hope you like these too!

•

Cuddling with your partners will forever be one of your favorite things. While Viktor may not be at ease with a lot of touch, that aspect seems to be pushed aside whenever the three of you are in bed

Viktor easily melts into Jayce's side, his face is usually flush with the crook of Jayce's neck, which makes it easy access for a peppering of kisses when he wakes up in the morning (he always wakes up the earliest, kisses Jayce, then you, before making his morning tea which he brings back to bed to slowly sip as he waits for his loves to rise)

Additionally, Viktor lays his hand in the middle of Jayce's chest, to feel his heartbeat or to feel up his muscles, no one knows and he’ll never tell. However, your own hand meets his at Jayce's core. The night usually starts with your hand on top of his, but some time during your slumber your hands swap, and Viktor's warm palm is placed atop the back of your hand, slender fingers grasping onto you

No matter how many times you wake up to this, the tenderness of the moment will forever make your face heat up and your heart beat rapidly

Viktor runs cold and Jayce is as warm as a furnace, so that really explains why Vik is always huddled up close to him

On the other side of Jayce lies you, also huddled up to his side. Jayce's arm is wrapped around you, fingers tracing random shapes or equations on the small of your back. It’s oddly comforting—his fingers dancing across your skin. It sometimes feels like he may be writing paragraphs of something familiar, something you can almost make out, but you’re never able to

(Jayce will never admit this to anyone, but there are times he traces letter on your skin as you fall asleep. Letters that make up admissions of love, insecurities, hopes, and dreams. His fingertips will tell how much he cherishes your love and adores Viktor’s trust in him. Sometimes they spell out what he hopes is your future together—the three of you, bound by love and loyalty for eternity. It helps him fall asleep)

Jayce honestly doesn't mind at all that he is squished in between his partners because he gets to touch the both of you. He gets to know that the people he loves are alive--are with him. Jayce enjoys knowing that Viktor has returned from the lab unscathed and that whatever the poison is that lurks below them and loomed over Viktor's childhood hasn't killed him. Jayce feels as if when the two of you are tucked securely at his side, the three of you are untouchable. He loves feeling your soft skin underneath his calloused fingertips, the warmth of your breath tickling the delicate skin under his ear

His heart beats below the tangled hands of his partners and that's all he wants

While that is how the three of you are usually organized in bed, with Jayce in the middle, that doesn't mean you never directly cuddle with Viktor. There are times where Jayce is out, with the council or another sort of meeting, and you and Viktor have the apartment to yourselves. Usually the two of you will be reading (sometimes Viktor will read to you, sometimes you will read to him if he's too exhausted). Who's cuddling into who will depend on who's reading aloud to the other. But more often than not, the two of you will cuddle in a way where both sets of eyes can see the text

Viktor smells of the air after a heavy rain on days he doesn’t come home smelling of grease and metal. But even then, his scent is his own and addictive nonetheless

Your voices will be soft in the other's ear, which usually causes you to drift off to sleep. Jayce will come back to find the two of you heaped together, heads close together

You and Jayce are the ones that crave cuddles every hour of the day. Viktor pretends he doesn't, usually rolling his eyes when you ask for him to get his ass in bed. But then Jayce whips out those wide golden eyes and Viktor is easily pulled to bed

There is also some casual cuddling outside of the bedroom. Pulling the two of them from their work is difficult, but once you convince Jayce, it's all over

Jayce is also the type to sit on his desk in the lab with either you or Viktor between his legs, arms wrapped around your torso.

Viktor likes to complain, citing that it's a distraction, but once Jayce envelopes either of you in his arms, there's no escape

Knowing that every night ends with the three of you in bed holding onto each other is what fuels the three of you. In the end, everything is worth it; everything leads to the love the three of you have for one another. Nothing else matters except for the sweet and soft touch of your partners.

•

[on-the-clear-blue]

What if Danny didn't die? He does open the portal but for the first time in their lives the Fentons followed OSHA regulations.

He doesn't have the powers, but he was right there when the portal opened, he saw the tear in reality and it...it did things.

It wasn't something that a humans mind was supposed to see, while the Infinite Realms are the in-between dimensions, and what is in-between the in-between?

Elder gods, slumbering calamities, fallen angels hid from their gods ever present eye, righteous spirits who reached nirvana, monsters beyond imagination...

The crack before the Realms snapped to his dimension was only open for a mere moment, a single millisecond but to the young boy it was eternity, and he could only watches as all those beings turned their attentions to him, they saw him, observed him as much as he did them.

He had fallen, screaming as he clutched his eyes, his eyes and ears were bleeding, his brain pounded so hard it felt as if it was going to knock out his eyeballs, Sam and Tucker, spared from it all as they had turned their heads when the lightning flashed and rent the portal open could only rush to the boy, trying to help him but all he could do was scream. Because what was beyond had saw him, and gave him a gift.

---

Far away, in a tall tower, a man with a gleaming gold helmet shuddered as the ankh of light in front of him shattered.

He fell to the floor, the minor magic he used failing as the more complex spell fizzled and broke, leaving him painfully wheezing on the ground, clutching at his chest.

"N-no...T-this can not be...T-The order...it...it failed...it can not fail!" Dragging himself across the Tower of Orders floor, Dr. Fate forced himself over to a lone summoning circle, falling onto it with an exhausted groan, the Gaurdian of Order muttered a soft word, and the circle flared, and in an instant he was gone, leaving the Tower shaking it it's wake.

---

On the couch of the House of Magic, John Constantine was feeling as if the world had fucked him so hard in the ass he would never be able to walk straight ever again.

And with the pounding in his skull from a truly deadly hangover wasn't helping either.

Nor was the half dead Dr. Fate puking up his guts in his living room.

"Argh" which translated to "What the bloody fuck are you doing in my house you daft shiny headed prick" but John didn't really have the strength to say that.

"Blugh" was what the ever regal Dr. Fate responded with, which obviously meant "The border between realities have been broken, the Beyond Dark knows of our existence and has seen our world, they have come to either eat upon our existence and reality or defend agaisnt the others that seek to only fill their own unexistance."

John of course, carefully and gracefully pissed himself.

---

In Faccuet City, a young Billy Batson screamed as his head exploded with noise, the gods and heros alike were all suddenly the strongest they had ever been, their powers flooded and overwhelmed his mortal form, and to save his life, the Champion of Magic forced itself into being.

Even in the Champions form the sudden influx of godly might was almost too much, steam charged with lightning billowed off him in great plooms, sparks zapped from his finger tips to the ground, and the air stunk of ozone all around him.

The gods were ranting, each talking over each other, debating in so many dead languages Billy's mind could keep up the translations.

It wasn't until Solomons voice boomed over the others that the voices fell quiet. "ENOUGH! NOW IS NOT THE TIME OF IN FIGHTING, THE BEYOND IS AT OUR DOOR..."

Taking a breath even if he didn't need it, the ancient king looked all the years he had lived and then some, "Young William...oh dear precious boy...our dear son. A great advent has begun, a door which should never been opened has been thrown wide...the beasts you face, the abominations of teeth and tentacles are just the mites that have slipped under the door...waht is to come will make all that you have faced look like mice...we will not have enough time to prepare you with what is to come..."

Solomons voice broke at the end, and he hung his head in the mental image in Billy's head "Seek out others, join forces with any. All those in touch with the arcane shall know of what just happened...as Champion you will be the spear head, the general of them all...you will lead them agaisnt the Beyond."

---

It took a week for Danny to come back to himself again, at least a little bit, he still had a haunted look in his eyes, and was far to quiet. He barely spoke at all, but when he did it was in ramblings of things not understood by any of them.

His parents assumed it had been a ghost that left in this state, their hatred for the ectoplasmic beings growing more and more as their son, their boy grew worse.

Jazz, unlike her parents listened to what Danny described, studied what she could and figured out what she couldn't, at each dead en she pushed, with Tuckers help she gained access to computer systems that held secrets of the occult, and with Sam's freely given credit card? Oh she dived deep into spell, trying desperately to find any kind of cure for Danny's predicament.

As time went on the boy only got worse, he had begun seeing the beings in the Beyond, some whispered wisdom, of long lost ways to calm the millions of mutterings in his gray matter and the pounding of his heart, while others screamed, in jubilation and rage, as it is only in being seen did they become real, and becoming real meant they had a foot hold in existence.

The wise figures, while helping had also steered him to their own goals, some told him to hate the jabbering hordes, others said that the only way to truly to be rid of them was to be nothing as well, to go far past being a person, into being one with the Byond.

Some of the mutterings lead to more questions, they spoke of Gods long forgotten and recent, of their betrayals and what they did to fall, others claimed that they were not fallen, that they were there to protect him from those that were.

The more and more he listened the more and more he saw of them, until Danny began to not understand what was real and what wasnt.

So he didn't even flinch when a group of imposing figures were in his room when he came up to his bed, hoping that the voices of Parathax the Unbeliever would be quiet enough for him to sleep.

Oh he did scream quite a bit when the sad trench coat man with a multi fractured sould reached out and touched him.

[hanniebaeee]

Under the Northern Lights

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI

Genre: established relationship, fluff, smut

Summary: You and Hyunjin witness the Northern Lights for the first time ever, and the magical moment turns into a rather heated one!

a/n: It's my dream to explore Iceland and to witness the northern lights! Till I get there, let's just do it with Jinnie here 🤭

It was warm, so warm. Hyunjin's arm was wrapped around your waist and his leg thrown over yours as he slept. His soft snores filled the quiet room, his breath fanning the back of your neck.

You two have had a busy day exploring a beautiful snowy village in Iceland. Hyunjin could barely move when you two got back - he'd had about enough of being on his feet for the day, and fell asleep almost immediately.

You’d been just as exhausted as him, but you'd woken up late at night after he managed to kick off the blankets as usual.

Your eyes cracked open, heavy-lidded and annoyed as you reached for the blanket. But then something else caught your attention. Outside the window.

"Ohh -" You sat upright, and Hyunjin jerked in his sleep grumbling something incoherent and burying his face in the pillow.

"Hyunjin! Get up!" You shook his shoulder, disturbing his slumber.

"Babe, I swear if this isn’t an emergency -”

"Just look!"

He groaned, peeling his eyes open (dramatically). The second he caught sight of the faint green glow outside, he shot upright, his mouth falling open.

"Is that...?"

"The northern lights!"

You were already hopping out of bed and fumbling for your coat. But Hyunjin was still blinking sleepily as you threw his jacket at him.

"Babe, it's soooo cold outside," he whined, dragging himself out of bed. "And I was having a really good dream…you were there, and chocolate, actually you in chocolate-"

"Oh my God Jinnie!! We made this trip to see exactly this, and you're stuck on your horny dreams!!"

"Horny dreams!?" He sounded offended, but his expression softened as he glanced at the lights swirling in the sky. "Okay, yeah, alright. Pants, pants... where are my pants?"

He got his pants to his face, of course.

After what felt like an eternity of fumbling, and a few swats to his butt ("Wear the pants, Jinnie!"), the two of you stumbled out into the cold night, boots crunching on the snow as the aurora borealis painted the skies above.

Hyunjin pulled you close as you both stared up, your breaths mingling in the chilly air.

"Wow," he murmured, his voice shaking with the cold.

"It's beautiful," you whispered, your heart swelling with happiness as you tilted your head back to take it all in.

"Okay, you were right to wake me up. But also, you’re totally making up for it later."

"Making up for what? Giving you the most magical moment of your life?"

"No, for interrupting my sleep. And my chocolate dream." He grinned down at you. "And not to be cheesy or anything, but the most magical moment of my life was the day you said yes. So yeah."

"Stop it." You laughed, and he pulled you closer, his nose brushing against yours.

“I love you, baby. I love it that we're doing this together,” He said, and before you could say anything, he kissed you - both your lips cold and a little numb.

And the way he sneaked his tongue into your mouth made your stomach flip. The lights danced above, but all you could feel was him - his warmth and the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

And then he pulled his phone out, because obviously you needed to record this moment. And a frozen photo shoot later, you both trudged back inside, in a hurry to get away from the chill.

Hyunjin was already peeling off his layers the second the door closed behind you. He chucked his coat with a dramatic groan, running his hands through his short blond buzz cut.

He went on to take a look at the fireplace (an electric one unfortunately), and then got on the bed, holding his hand out.

"Alright, babe," he drawled. "Since you ruined my dream, I think it’s only fair we finish what I started in my head."

He grinned as he pulled you onto his lap.

You rolled your eyes, but you really loved it when he was this horny and lovesick. With a smile you cupped his cheeks in your hands and kissed him. His hands slid beneath your sweater, palms warm against your ribs as he kissed you like he’d been starving for days.

His hands moved up, cupping your breasts over your bra, and his thumbs ran over your hard nipples, perked up.

"Fuck baby," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot as his hands squeezed your breasts. "You cold?"

"More like really hot" you gasped, your hands sliding over the blond fuzz on his head and your nails scraping his scalp.

"Mhm," he managed, his lips trailing down your jaw, his teeth grazing your skin all the way to your collarbone. "You looked so hot all bundled up, and now…”

His nibbled on your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. He pulled back enough to pull your sweater over your head and tossed it aside, before finding the waistband of your leggings, tugging them down as his lips were on yours again.

"Jinnie," you whispered, your voice trembling as his hands worked on getting rid of the rest of your clothes.

You watched him undress as the northern lights danced outside, casting a faint glow through the window. You couldn’t help but think how beautiful he looked as he leaned in and his lips grazed the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

Hyunjin’s kisses were hot and demanding, his lips urging you to respond with the same intensity. And you could feel his hardness press against you, and it made your heart race even faster.

He kissed his way down, his lips hovering over chest, eyes locked with yours before his tongue peeked out, placing a tiny lick on your nipple.

That was enough for your core to clench and with a little smirk he closed his lips on the little bud and sucked relentlessly, making you moan. Your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he gave your other nipple the same attention.

And you glanced down to see them glistening with his spit.

“Hyunjin,” you gasped, your voice shaky as you pulled him closer. “Please.”

He grinned against your skin, the mischievous glint in his eyes never fading.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he muttered before lifting your hips slightly, and without any warning put his mouth directly on your wet folds.

Your body jerked with shock, and it didn't stop him from running his tongue over your dripping heat. You were falling apart under him, your body shaking as he licked and sucked on your puffy clit.

The sensation of his tongue inside you, and his soft hair against your inner thighs has your body quaking with need. And he kept going at it until finally with a quick flick of his tongue, you came undone, gushing into his mouth as he held you close.

He was painfully hard now, and the faint layer of sweat on his chest and forehead looked so damn enticing in the pale light. The look he gave you was raw and desperate, and you wasted no time pulling him close and kissing him.

Tasting yourself on his lips was seriously the most intimate, most satisfying thing ever. He moaned as you kissed his neck and bit down on the spot right below his jaw, making him grind down on you.

"Please baby," He whispered and shifted, positioning himself between your legs and you could feel his length prodding at your entrance.

Your eyes met again and you gave him a soft nod. He entered you slowly, pulling a soft moan from your lips as you both adjusted to the sensation, the feeling of being stretched open settling over you.

His movements were rhythmic, pushing you both to the edge and he kissed you, his hands gripping your hips as he drove deeper into you.

“Hyunjin…” you breathed, gasping for air as he made you feel every inch of him. He moved faster, harder, and you met each thrust with equal need, your body trembling.

“Fuck, I need you,” he groaned, his voice strained as he held you close, his eyes twinkling with love and lust.

You felt your release building, your breath hitching as you tipped over the edge and clenched around him tight. His movements were sloppier as he chased his own release, and he came with a groan, burying his face into your neck as he spilled inside you.

Breathing heavily, hand gently stroked your hair, his lips brushing your forehead as you both recovered.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice soft.

“I love you too,” you replied, pressing a soft kiss on his chest.

As the morning light seeped through the small window of your room, you knew that you two had overslept. The warmth of Hyunjin's body beside you was comforting, and you watched him with love before pressing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth.

His eyes were still closed, but he smiled. A sweet sleepy one. And he looked so adorable (and a little too hot for his own good).

Your hand, almost of its own accord, slid down to where he was already hard and straining against his shorts. A spark of heat shot through you, as your palm cupped his length, putting on a little pressure.

You couldn’t resist teasing him, and Hyunjin opened his eyes slowly, his smile widening.

“What are you doing baby?” He mumbled and you didn't answer him, just moved down, pulling his shorts off him.

He was wide awake now, propped up on his elbows watching you as you stroked him gently.

“What did I do to deserve this?” He asked, his voice husky.

“You're you,” you whispered, and he groaned as your lips closed around his pink tip.

And yeah…you two didn't make it to the sight seeing tour you'd booked.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

As an eepy, helpless romantic.. how about a gender neutral reader who secretly loves to sing but rarely does it when they think someone is there. Now imagine their s/o waking to the reader singing to them, so soft yet filled with love and devotion.

For Leona, Jamil, Silver, Malleus, and Jack, please!

Jack Howl:

When you began to sing Jack feared his ear twitch might have alerted you to the fact he was actually awake but it seemed you were too absorbed in your song to notice. He wished you did this more, not wanting to put pressure on you to perform but… When you were good at something, shouldn’t you show it off a bit more? He didn’t mean for you to turn it into a job. Even if he was your audience he thinks it would be nice, wondering if there was a way for him to bring the topic up without embarrassing you.

Jamil Viper:

Jamil had to admit he didn’t know you had it in you. There was a natural melodic quality to your voice, in his opinion, but it didn’t mean he knew you had this hidden talent. While the sound is quite relaxing it’s the lyrics that leave him feeling unsettled. A confession in metaphors but a confession nonetheless, admiring him and his beauty, relating to the peaceful moment you were having now. He struggled to relate the song to himself but your lyrics were undeniably about him, for him, even if you didn’t realize he was listening.

Leona Kingscholar:

Leona didn’t interrupt, never letting you know he had woken up while you were singing. There had been a handful of times where he’d heard the pleasant sound of your voice drifting down the halls but you always stopped the moment you knew he was nearby; he suspected he only heard you at all because his hearing was sharper than the average person. He thought it was a pleasant way to fall asleep, yet he couldn’t ignore the love behind your words, the way your fingers stroked through his hair carefully to not wake him. It’s hard to drift off to sleep after these revelations, as for once reality felt better than his dreams.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus feels as if you’re putting a spell on him, leaving him frozen in time but rather than feeling uncomfortable, it was like you had wrapped a warm blanket around him. He can’t recall ever hearing you sing before, wondering how often you did it. Did you do it while doing chores, or practicing magic? Were you a natural since you were young or had it required practice? He has so many questions to ask yet he felt too weary to do so, just wanting to keep his eyes closed to enjoy your song a few moments longer.

Silver:

Your song is so calming Silver felt he might fall into an eternal slumber, forever surrounded by your voice in an endless dream. His eyelids felt heavy as your words floated through him, taking time to truly listen to what you were singing about. Had he done anything to deserve your devotion? To have you see him in such a shining light that it was as if he could do no wrong? Silver can’t stop himself from opening his eyes, glancing over at your flustered face when you apologized for waking him. He shook his head with a soft smile, asking if you could sing it again for him.

[apricot-blossomss]

I was wondering if u could write the gods(you can chose any but i would love hermes to be in it if thats ok with u) reactions of waking up next to reader.

U can skip this request if u want.

Love your work btw. ❤️😆

☛ the gods [apollo, hermes, dionysus, ares] waking up next to you

☛ sfw, cw: suggestive, mentions of blood & violence in ares' part

APOLLO

Apollo had found himself doing this every morning for the past few weeks. The god's eyes fluttered open as the soft morning light filtered through the curtains, mind slowly clearing off the haze of sleep. For a moment, he simply lay there, letting the sense of contentment flood him, the soft sounds of your breath like music to his ears.

His gaze wandered as he turned towards you, still soundly asleep next to him. Somehow, you had managed to get completely tangled up in the sheets. The sunlight that bathed his palace in golden hues caressed your skin as softly as his fingers might have. It made your hair shine as it lay sprawled out on the pillow, just calling to be twirled around a finger as he leaned close to you, watched you blush and laugh.

But you weren't laughing now. Your expression showed only utter serenity as you drooled cutely on the pillow, fingers twitching occasionally, signs of a restless dream. But other than that, your chest rose and fell with steady breaths as your body relaxed against the sheets. So pliant, so soft, yet marked. Apollos eyes traced the line his lips had drawn over your collarbone, up to your neck, and his lips twitched as he remembered the little sighs they had elicited from you, the way your cheeks flushed.

Apollo never thought he would ever find someone he would want to wake up next to every day, for eternity. Sure, he loved, and he loved deeply. But it was always temporary. He had never planned to be anything but an eternity-long bachelor, simply because his attention tended to stray, always in search of someone new to inspire him. But gods, you were enough to inspire his poems and songs for eons to come. And it would never be enough to grasp just how much he cherished you.

He propped himself up in bed, watching you intently, eyes drinking in every little movement, skimming over your peaceful expression. And he felt it. The itch in his fingers. The need to capture you, to capture this, to grab a quill, a pencil, a paintbrush, whatever was suited best to express his adoration for you in this moment.

He rose from the bed without making a sound, careful not to disturb your peaceful slumber, and reached for a canvas and a palette, along with a brush. As he settled down onto the bed, his hand travelled over your figure, his eyes raking over you with the steady assessment of a professional. With touches so tender they were little more than breaths against your skin, he draped the covers just right and brushed a strand of hair out of your face, basking in the little sigh you answered him with in your sleep.

His hands moved quick over the canvas, with experienced precision and a commitment to detail, to immortalize this moment. His eyes drank you in, every inch of you, and flickered down to the canvas as his brushes formed the curve of your hips, the slope of your nose, the rosiness of your lips. He painted you as he saw you- drenched in the gold of the morning sun, ethereal, otherworldly. And yet, even the minor imperfections found their way onto the painting- because to him, even calling them 'imperfections' was an oxymoron, when they were what truly made you perfect.

As he completed the last brushstrokes, your lashes fluttered and you stirred slightly. A yawn broke free from your lips and, eyes still closed, you stretched your arms over your head. Then, you slowly blinked up at him, your lips curving into a smile at the sight of him. "Hey," you said, almost shyly, as you spotted the marks you had left on him the night before.

His voice was full of reverence as he leaned down to press a lingering kiss onto your lips. "Good morning, sunshine."

HERMES

The first thing that seeped into his consciousness like the most intoxicating drug was the smell of you. Second, the warmth, third, the pulsing of your heartbeat against his temple. He breathed in your scent, breathing out against your neck and tightened his hold on your soft body. To wake up like this every day...

Hermes slowly raised his head from your neck, his own curls brushing over your skin softly as he did. As if you felt it through the haze of sleep, you sighed softly, and his lips twitched into a smile as he propped himself up next to you, eyes wandering over you. Your chest was rising and falling in slow, steady breaths, and even in your sleep, you managed to be so utterly adorable.

Sometimes, your fingers would twitch against the sheets, a reaction to a dream, or your lips would string incoherent sentences together. A grin spread on his lips as he heard something closely resembling his name, a mumbled sigh, and he leaned in to catch more of it. Distinctly, he made out the words 'don't go' in the midst of your vague dreamy ramblings before you slipped off again, a long sigh escaping your lips, leaving him to guess what you might have been dreaming about.

But Hermes had never been one for patience. Before long, his hand came up to trace a line down your jaw, relishing in the way your breathing hitched softly. Slowly, he let his fingers trail down, down your back, over the curve of your hips, and up again. He could see the way your eyelids fluttered, the way you tried to hold onto sleep - a nice dream, then - but your consciousness was slipping and your brows scrunched up.

First, you didn't know what had woken you up. Then, through the still present haze of sleepiness, you felt a soft touch, running up and down your spine. Before you could stop it, it elicited a shiver from you and you could hear a chuckle, resonating close to your ear. "I know you're awake, you know?"

With a low groan, you pushed his hands away, pulling the covers more tightly around yourself. It had been such a pleasant dream, and you desperately wished to know how it ended, even though the waking part of you was aware that your chances of slipping back into slumber under his watch were utterly nonexistent. As you had suspected, your groggy protest did little to deter him. His hands returned- and this time, they ran up your sides in a more teasing way.

He was tickling you.

That bastard.

With a loud whine, you squirmed away, still squeezing your eyes shut. But instead of taking pity on you, the god only increased his teasing touches and your attempts to shake him off remained futile. Now, even the last remnants of sleep were lost, as you trashed under his relentless tickling, you held onto the dream like water slipping through your fingers. Finally, as the god tenderly pinched the soft flesh of your stomach, you snapped.

In one fluid motion, you shot up, grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him down onto the duvet, settling on top of him. You were well aware that you would have not been able to tackle him had he not allowed it, but you would take what you could get as you glared down at his far too pleased expression. "What the fuck, Hermes?" you groaned, the last bit of drowsiness draining from your mind. "I was having a nice dream!"

"Did you dream about me?" he asked, a tenderly teasing smile playing around his lips. Knowing. You shook your head, but it was a lie, and he seemed well aware.

You squeaked in surprise when he lifted himself up, you still perched on his lap as he looked down on you and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "Hm, I think you did," he mused, lips hovering just above yours. He clicked his tongue at your spluttered protests. "Y'see, honey... you talk in your sleep." His grin turned downright wicked when he saw your mortified expression, and as you felt your cheeks heating, you leaned your head against his collarbone, desperate to hide them. But no chance.

"Aw, don't be embarrassed, baby," he cooed softly, but with a distinctly teasing edge to his tone. His lips came up to brush against your temple tenderly. "Don't be mad you didn't get to finish it." He locked eyes with you, and the look in them made you swallow. "In fact," he drawled suggestively, hand running down to your waist, "How about we reenact them, hm?"

DIONYSUS

Your morning could have been peaceful. However, peaceful wasn't really in your lover's repertoire. Thus, your steady flow of vague dreams was disrupted when hands shook you awake, hands that had been traveling down your body with teasing touches the previous night, had latched onto you as if you could fade at any moment, had dipped into a goblet of wine and drawn patterns of red liquid down your squirming body.

Now, however, they were barely tender, no, they were demanding, and you reluctantly let them pull you out of your quite pleasing dreams. With a huff of annoyance, you shook his hands off and turned your back to him, propping up your pillow and praying he would let you drift back into slumber. But of course, your hopes were futile.

"Baby," he sighed into your ear, shuffling ever closer to your figure. His arms closed around your midriff as his forehead came to rest against the back of your neck. And gods, you were sure a diety was not meant to sound this whiny. "Baby, wake up."

With a frustrated groan, you gave him a push and turned in bed to face him, stretching your arms over your head and glowering at him. The sight of him, however, caught you off guard. His long curls were impossibly disheveled, eyes glazed over, his expression pulled into one of great agony. He looked positively wrecked.

With a low groan, Dionysus let himself fall back into the mattress, wincing at the movement. The sound was stifled with the way he buried his face in his pillow, but the pain in it did tug at your heartstrings. It looked like you had been right last night- he had completely overdone it, even for a god, and now, he was paying the price. But that didn't mean you had no pity for his predicament.

The scowl on your face slowly melted into a softer smile as you shuffled closer to his figure, sprawled out on the duvet. A mop of curls obstructed his face, as well as a pillow, so you settled for carding your fingers into his hair and softly running their tips over his scalp. The sound of elicited from him, though muffled against the sheets, was one of relief rather than pain.

"Everything hurts," he moaned into the duvet as you continued to run your hand through his hair. "I'm a god. This shouldn't be happening."

"You poor god, you," you cooed sweetly, laughing when he released a muffled scoff. As he rambled on, listing his complaints, you hummed along, smiling down at him. You liked these moments- moments when you got to see him raw, almost human. Only to be reminded of his divinity when he slowly raised his head from the sheets to rake his eyes over your bare figure. They glinted dangerously.

"You know what, baby?" he purred seductively. "I think I'm starting to feel better. Not quite though. Got some ideas on how to ease my ache?"

You slapped the back of his head.

ARES

Ares was used to blood. He was used to violence, to shouting and screaming, the clanking of steel on steel, the roaring of the victorious and the cries of the vanquished. But not to this. He didn't think he could ever get used to this. Waking up next to you, the first thing to see your bare figure, wrapped loosely in his sheets, chest rising and falling softly, lips parted as if they were about to tell a secret. But your eyes were closed, lashes delicately brushing over your soft skin.

But, though he would never get used to this, to you, he was already addicted to it. He craved every little touch, every small smile, every little grace like a drowning man the air. And it was so very tempting to accept it all, take it all, take everything he could get. That was the way he used to do it. He was the god of war, he didn't ask for things, and he certainly didn't take other people's feelings into account before acting- until you.

It burned in his fingertips, the need to reach out, to touch, to pull you against him, to bury his face in your neck, breathe in your scent, bask in your warmth. To hear your breath hitch in the most delicious way, feel your body melt into his. Your voice would be rough from sleep, but it would sound all the sweeter in his ears. He yearned to feel you against him, if only for prove that you were real, that he was granted something this good.

But as he watched you, as he listened to the soft sound of your breathing, he couldn't bring himself to destroy your peace, as he would any other. The only thing greater than his desire to feel you was his need to let you rest. Putting up with him every day, you needed it. No, he could not wake you up.

Pathetically, he ended up shifting as close to you as he could without touching you, so close he could feel the warmth of your body gently nipping at his skin, so close that his fingers twitched to close the thin gap between your bodies. But he didn't. Restraint had never been his strength, as his sister would gladly remind him, but now, he disciplined his urges and closed his eyes, knowing sleep would not take him back.

But it didn't have to. It was only minutes later that you stirred, shifted against the covers and finally, turned around beneath them to face him. His proximity startled you for a second, but it could not break your sleepy gaze as you lazily threw your arms around his neck and pulled him close.

Ares surged. Hadn't he been careful, he would have crushed you with the way he wrapped his strong, scarred arms around your middle and pulled you flush against him, eliciting a startled little squeak from you. Your soft, pliant body all wrapped up in his arms, he could not have been more content, and as you relaxed against him with the sort of undeniable trust that went to his head in the most twisted way, he lowered his head to the crook of your neck.

The steady fall and rise of your chest against his was a strong enough tether to keep him right there, possibly forever, wrapped up in your gentle warmth that was so different to his scorching fire. But fuck, did he crave it.

Ares stiffened for a split of a second when your fingers carded into his dark curls, but his shoulders relaxed in an instant as you ran them through the strands. A soft groan left his lips, and he would have been content admitting that a tiny mortal like you had rendered him utterly defenseless. The soft giggle that sounded against his ear was more heavenly than all the odes his brother ever composed.

"You're cuddly today," you commented vaguely, fingertips scraping over his scalp tenderly.

An indefinite sound rumbled in his chest, vibrated against yours, but he only sank deeper into your touch, wishing every morning could start like this.

a/n: thinking about making taglists for my works/specific gods, would anyone be interested in that?

[propertyofwicked]

CROSS MY HEART - LN

warnings - smut!! MDNI!! soft!lando x restless!reader, sleepy sex, unprotected (stay safe yall), little bit of cockwarming ?

little one shot for a tired reader who just needs a bit of late night lovin <3

based on -> cross my heart by artemas

masterlist

she truly didn’t mean to start anything, y/n was simply trying to get comfortable. she was restless, the clock on the bedside table displaying 3:00 in bright red lighting mocking her. lando laid behind her, his arm laying haphazardly over her waist, holding her close to him, the other stretched above her head.

lando’s heavy breathing faltered for a moment, as she tossed and turned again, his eyes squeezing tight before squinting open to look at her. she was now laid on her back, staring up at the ceiling, lando’s arm still thrown over her as he moved to squeeze at her hip.

“hey,” he whispered, trying not to let his slumber leave him fully.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you,” she apologised, whispering back at him.

“why are you still up?” he asked, ignoring her apology.

“can’t sleep,” she said, turning her head to look at him.

his eyes were still half closed, struggling to open with the weight of his fatigue. his hair was messy, matted down slightly from where he rested his head, a stray curl resting on his forehead.

“come ‘ere,” he mumbled, pressing a gentle kiss to her exposed shoulder before pulling at her hip, guiding her to shuffle back into his embrace. she felt his soft breaths blowing on her hair, trailing down the back of her neck, tingles shooting down her spine as she rolled further into his arms. her body moulded into his as though they were made for each other, each curve of her back fitted perfectly with his chest. her legs bent upwards, resting above his, feeling the dull warmth of his thighs spread to hers.

his hand resting on her hip, fingers drawing circles on her thigh, twisting the fabric of her shorts as he did.

“what’s wrong?” he asked again, sensing there was more to her restlessness.

“nothing,” she said with a sigh, “well, i don’t think there’s anything wrong.”

“the girl who sleeps anywhere anytime can’t fall asleep - never thought i’d see the day,” he joked, laughing lightly, his chest shaking lightly on her back as he did.

“maybe ive slept too much and now im doomed to an eternity of sleepless nights,” she replied, leading lando to laugh lightly again.

“right,” he started, “shut your eyes for me, focus on steady breathing.”

she nodded at him, hoping that lando could feel her response, as his eyes had shut again, his head rolling forwards to rest his forehead on her shoulder.

and so, y/n laid there silently for minutes, eyes closed. she’d just about given up counting sheep, trying to recall a long journey, even focusing on numbing her entire body head to toe - nothing was working. finally, she decided that shuffling backwards, further into her boyfriends embrace might help, maybe the white noise of his heavy breathing, or the warmth of his chest on her back would lull her into the deep sleep she needed.

her hips rolled back first, pushing into lando’s crotch as she did, her back moving to arch into his chest. but before she could get comfortable, the grip on her waist tightened, a small grunt escaping lando’s mouth as he held her impossible close to him.

“if you wanted me that bad, you should’ve just said,” he mumbled in her ear again, his hips jutting forwards slightly.

“i didn’t mean to,” she whined in defence, before considering the situation, “but since you mentioned it, and since i can feel a little problem forming…”

“little?” he gasped jokingly, “you’ve never complained about the size of it before.”

“ill think you’ll find i have,” she replied, her hips absentmindedly grinding down on his growing bulge as she spoke, “do you not remember the jaw pain i had after i suc-”

she was interrupted by his hand landing firmly over her mouth.

“don’t finish that sentence if you don’t want this to escalate,” he warned.

“and what if i want it to?” she teased, “might help to tire me out?”

“well in that case, i guess im obliged to help,” he sighed, jokingly conceding as his fingers tugged at the waistband of her shorts. her hand reached down to grab his, halting his movements slightly, she could feel his face contort in confusion from where it still rested on her skin.

“just pull them to the side,” she told him, “im too tired to take my clothes off.”

he laughed at her honesty, never one to complain about being lazy with his girl, especially when he himself was too exhausted to put his full effort into sex right now.

“yeah?” he asked her, needing reassurance before she nodded, mumbling a quick “please”.

lando’s hands reached around to y/n’s front, pulling her shorts to the side, running his rough fingers through her folds. his head near shot up in shock, pushing himself up slightly to look down at the woman below him, fingers still working through her heat, circling her clit.

“how are you already that wet?” he asked her, chuckling lightly as the moon’s soft glow illuminated the flush rising her cheeks, “all i did was press my cock into your ass and you’re dripping?”

“ok?” she replied, feigning offence, “all i did was push my hips into your cock and you got hard? you know, lan, most men wouldn’t complain when their girlfriends find them attractive,” she joked, exposing his hypocrisy with a giggle.

“this wet, though? all for me?” he asked again, though his voice no longer held it’s playful tone, it became almost possessive, proud of his effect on her.

“all for you,” she choked out, stuttering as his fingers circled her entrance, his thumb moving to continue his assault on her clit. he pushed into her, fingers curling in as he did.

“please lan,” she begged him, panting as he did. any other time, she’d be embarrassed how quickly she was falling apart for him, but right now she couldn’t think about anything but being full with him.

“please, what, angel?” he asked, smirking at her submission, “words, baby.”

“need you now,” she whined, rolling her hips to deepen his fingers, intensifying the pressure of his thumb on her heat.

“patience, angel. gettin’ you ready for me,” he grunted, hips still jutting sporadically into her every time she moaned out for him.

“i’m ready,” she argued, “i can take it.”

“you sure?” he teased, though his hand slipped away from her, pushing her shorts to the side again and tugging his boxers down to free himself. lando tugged at his length a few times, spreading precum down the shaft before lining himself up with her entrance. he felt her lean forwards slightly, moving her leg to raise it over his, opening herself up to him.

he pushed in slowly, feeling her walls stretch around his cock as she moaned out at the intrusion, soon feeling the cotton of her shorts brushing against the skin at the base of his pelvis. her hand reached back, gripping at his arm to stop his movements.

“need a moment,” she whined.

“who’s little now?” he joked, careful to keep himself still inside her, “’i’m ready, i can take it,’“ he mocked.

“shut up or i’m leaving,” she warned, grinding down on him as she grew used to the feeling of being full.

“sure you will,” he gloated, hand moving back down to her clit, pinching at it lightly as his hips began to thrust into her at a gentle pace. she couldn’t argue back if she tried, his warmth engulfing her as he held her close, strings of curses tumbling from her mouth with every thrust.

“love having you so close to me,” he grunted, his teeth nipping at the skin on her shoulder lightly, “so full of me. feel so good, wrapped around my cock like this.”

his pace remained gentle - his thrusts deep inside her, the tip of his cock hitting the spot that had her purring for him. the feeling of lando’s hands on her, gripping at her thigh, holding her open for him to slide in and out of her. his chest pressed up against her back, a light sweat coating his skin.

it was no surprise she reached her climax so quickly, overwhelmed at the feeling of him thrusting deep inside her, his body surrounding her every senses, soft grunts that travelled through her ears and straight to her heat - he was like a drug she could never quit. she came hard and fast, body shaking around his cock as her body grew limp. lando followed soon after, his strong grip holding her body still for him to use however he pleased.

his hips moved to pull back, to slip out of her slowly but her exhausted whines stopped his movements.

“leave it in,” she mumbled, face pressed into the pillow.

“what?” he asked, trying to disguise the mixture of shock and excitement he felt at the prospect of being so close to her.

“you heard me, lan. leave it in. want to feel full,” she replied, a small smile rising on lando’s face at her tired desperation, as she shuffled back into his warm embrace once again. his arms tightened around her again, her laboured breathing lulling them both into a deep sleep.

[hederasgarden]

Eternal Devotion (3/3)

Summary: Months after your husband's untimely death, his presence lingers, haunting you in ways you never expected.  Pairing: Vampire!Friedrich Harding x Wife!Reader   Word Count: 6.6K  Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Angst, period typical sexism, creepy things, vampirism, blood, and sexual content. Not all themes are tagged. A/N:  The reader has always been Friedrich’s wife, Anna does not exist in this AU. Big thanks to @ryebecca, @otaku-girl-ao3, @whatblogisthis216 , @eremeldanin and @bellrose for their help with this fic.   Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ♡ Aaron Taylor Johnson Character Masterlist

"When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it." - Caitlyn Siehl 

In the quiet of your bedroom, you find yourself suddenly shy as you watch Friedrich move through the space you once shared as if he never left at all. He shrugs off his coat, untying his cravat and tosses it carelessly across the chair along with his gloves. When he sees you lingering in the doorway, a sweet, amused smile plays at the corners of his lips.

"Come here, my love," he calls softly, his hand reaching out, waiting for yours.

You step into his embrace, and he inhales deeply.

“You are a vision in red,” he whispers, trailing the back of his hand down your bare arm, the cool touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “And your smell,” he groans, “I have missed it.”

You turn your head, lips gliding over his cheek before finding his mouth. His hands slide to your waist, but he stays still, letting you guide the kiss. You moan and the sound seems to awaken something within him, the pressure on your sides increasing until it forces the air from your lungs painfully. In response, you curl your fingers into the rich fabric of his shirt, pushing against his chest. He doesn’t respond to your distress, his mouth moving hungrily over yours, his tongue ravenous for a taste of you.

Blood roars in your ears, and you sway on your feet, dizzy and desperate for air. When his mouth finally leaves yours, you gasp, your body sagging in his arms. Yet even then Friedrich does not seem to notice. He grasps the back of your neck tightly, his lips trailing down the curve of your jaw to brush the soft underside of your throat.

You whimper his name, and the sound seems to shake him from his fervor. He pulls back, his blue eyes shadowed in the flickering candlelight. You expect to find him breathless, undone, but his chest hardly rises with effort. 

“You afflict me so,” he murmurs, staring back at you. 

You’ve known Friedrich for more than half your life, every look, every gesture of his as familiar as your own, yet the expression on his face now is one you cannot place. Tentatively you touch the center of his chest and he shudders, passing a shaky hand over his mouth. He looks so pale and drained, and in that moment you feel foolish for forgetting all he’s done to return to you.

“You must be exhausted,” you say, withdrawing from him. “You should rest.”

Haltingly, as though it pains him, he nods in agreement. 

Together you help each other get ready for bed, slipping into the easy, comforting routine like no time has passed. Friedrich unlaces your corset and the feel of his cool fingers tracing the length of your spine sends a shiver through you. Once you are both undressed you slip under the covers together, and for the first time in nearly ten months, you fall into a deep, quiet slumber, wrapped in your husband’s arms. 

–

You wake in the morning to find the bed cool and empty beside you. Terror seizes your chest and for one awful moment, you fear that last night was nothing but a dream, your mind's desperate attempt to fill the unbearable emptiness inside you. You scramble from the bed, hands trembling as you search the room for any sign of him.

It’s then that you hear it, the low rumble of masculine laughter, followed by a giggle and a sharp squeal of delight from down the hall. Hastily, you slip into your morning robe, tightening it around your waist. The floor creaks beneath your feet as you make your way to your daughters’ bedroom. There, Friedrich sits on the floor, surrounded by their scattered toys, your youngest in his lap, her laughter rising and falling with each flurry of kisses he presses to her face. Your oldest clings to his back, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, her giggles mixing with her sister’s joy.

"I fear we have woken your mother," Friedrich mock-whispers to them playfully.

"It was a pleasing way to wake," you assure him, crossing the room to open the curtains and let in the bright morning light.

"No, Mama!" your youngest cries, her shriek of alarm halting you in your tracks. She tugs at your hand with both of hers.

"You mustn't let the light in," your oldest adds, breathless with urgency.

Perplexed, you glance at Friedrich, but he simply raises his brow. Seeing the serious look in your children's eyes, you realize whatever game they’re playing must be more important to them than you’d first thought.

“Alright, alright,” you relent, allowing your daughter to pull you away from the windows and towards Friedrich. 

He’s quick to pull you down to sit in his lap. One of his hands rests on your thigh, while the other rubs soothing circles on your hip. Together, you watch your children, their sweet faces so unburden and happy as they dart from one end of the room to the other. They are breathless with energy. 

“Mama, I am hungry,” your youngest announces. 

“Must we go downstairs to eat? I want Papa to stay here with us!” your eldest whines.

"Perhaps we should take our breakfast here then," you suggest with a mischievous smile, glancing behind you at Friedrich. "They seem quite intent on their game."

“My love,” he protests. “You would have us eat on the floor, like some…bohemians?” he asks, scandalized by the very thought. 

You bite your bottom lip, struggling to hold back the smile that threatens to break through. For a man so concerned with propriety and restraint, your husband showed remarkably little of either when it came to his desire for you. It’s almost amusing that breakfast in your rooms seems to be where he draws the line.

"Oh yes, please, Papa, can we?" your daughters beg, their eyes wide with excitement.

Friedrich looks between you and the children before letting out a short, incredulous laugh. "We are civilized people, not some…wandering artists!”

“It is just for today,” you promise him, hoping to sway him with the softness of your voice.

The tension in his face eases and before he speaks you know you’ve won. With a resigned sigh he says, “You know I cannot deny you anything.”

The children cheer, moving to arrange cushions and blankets around them, boundless in their joy. The rest of the day is spent lounging in their rooms and enjoying the assortment of food brought by the servants. You feel a deep sense of contentment and safety, your head resting on Friedrich’s shoulder as you watch your daughters spring across the room, performing a dizzying, convoluted play just for the two of you.

When dusk settles you withdraw from him reluctantly, all too aware the real world awaits you. 

“We should prepare for dinner,” you say. “My parents will arrive soon.”

“I sent word to them this morning to cancel.” He glances at you before returning his attention back to your children.

You look up at him, surprised. “I know you are…unhappy with my father,” you begin, but he cuts you off with a sharp look.

“That is a matter I will address with him myself,” he says, the abrupt shift in his tone making it clear the discussion is closed. When you draw away from him, surprised, his features soften into something more familiar and kind. He squeezes your waist reassuringly. “For now,” he continues, “I simply want to spend time with my wife and children, without distraction. They can come in a week's time. Perhaps two.”

"Of course," you agree, your heart lifting. 

You want nothing more than to hide away with your family, away from the prying eyes of the outside world. Friedrich sighs, tracing the line of your jaw with his thumb before urging you to share a sweet, lingering kiss with him.

–

The weeks that follow are some of the happiest of your life. 

Despite the very real demands of Friedrich’s work and the countless matters that require his attention to set right everything left undone during his absence, he gives you and the girls his full attention during the day. Every one of their whims is indulged with patience and tenderness. He is rarely far from you, his presence a steady comfort, except in the evenings when he retreats to his office to bury himself in his work. It feels like the best kind of dream, one you never want to wake from.

Yet, as the days pass, you can’t help but notice how your time apart has changed him. Most of them are small, almost unnoticeable oddities that you assume must be from all he’s endured to return to you. But then there are the other changes, the ones that loom larger and give you pause. The servants whisper about them in hushed tones, their concern barely concealed. Your parents notice it too when they come for dinner, nearly two weeks after their original visit was postponed. Their eyes linger on Friedrich, an unspoken disquiet in their gaze that they don’t quite manage to hide.

“It is rather...dim in here,” your mother remarks politely, her gaze shifting past you to the drawn curtains of the dining room. 

The heavy fabrics keep out the last remnants of daylight and candlelight illuminates the room, casting shadows on the walls. The servants keep them burning constantly, there’s no other choice with the sun so often shut out at your husband’s request.

"The sunlight hurts my eyes," Friedrich replies as he pushes a fork idly around his plate, the food barely touched. 

You glance at your father, whose attention is fixed on your husband, a quiet scrutiny in his gaze.

“He spent so long below deck in the ship's hold," you explain. “The doctors said it would take time to adjust.”

“Oh, yes. Of course,” your mother says, though there’s something in the way she says it that suggests she’s not quite as convinced. “And the children do not mind?”

Friedrich tenses, the hand resting on the table curling into a fist. You’re quick to cover it with your own. He exhales, the tension leaving his body in a slow release. Beneath your touch, his fist gradually unfurls, and he turns his hand palm up, interlacing his fingers with yours.

“No,” you tell your mother. 

Truthfully you had worried how the children would react to the near-perpetual dimness at first, but they seemed to adjust to it with surprising ease. Now, the shadowed corners of your home no longer faze them though you make a special effort to take them outside, letting them soak up the sunlight.

“That is good,” your mother replies earnestly before falling silent.

You’re thankful for your daughters, whose sweet voices fill the silence with excited chatter. It should be comforting to speak with your mother and children, but you’re all too aware of the quiet tension between your husband and father. Neither man seems at ease. In the past, your father and Friedrich were always polite to each other — respectful, but never truly friendly.

It’s almost a relief when the meal finally comes to an end and the servants begin clearing the dishes. You don’t comment on how little Friedrich has eaten. Each time you’ve brought it up in the past, he’s dismissed your concerns with a firm response that leaves no room for further discussion.

As you begin gathering the children and preparing them for bed, Friedrich invites your father to join him for a nightcap and a smoke in his office. You exchange a quick look with your mother, her concern clearly reflected in your own.

“We will not be long,” Friedrich promises, bringing your knuckles to his cool lips. “Go, take your mother.”

Getting the children settled turns out to be more difficult than you anticipate, and you find yourself half distracted through most of it, your mind lingering on what might be happening downstairs.  By the time you finally make your way back to the foyer, Friedrich’s office door is still firmly shut. You pause, straining to hear any sounds coming from inside, but all you’re met with is silence.

Your mother shifts beside you, fiddling with the cuff of her sleeve before clearing her throat.

“How are things since Friedrich’s return?” she inquires. “He seems…much changed.”

The question catches you off guard and for a moment, you're silent. You sense the weight behind her words, the quiet invitation to reveal your own fears, and you hesitate — afraid your worries will spill over into something you’re not ready to share. She already seems heavy with concern, and the last thing you want is to add to that.

"He is still our Friedrich," you reply. "He is merely adjusting after his illness.”

“Of course,” she concedes. She steps closer, her hands covering yours as her worried gaze meets your. “And how are you, my darling girl?”

"I am so happy he returned to us," you tell her with an honest smile. "I was lost without him...so scared, so alone. His absence —" You falter, the grief you thought had faded surging up again. Tears prick your eyes at the thought and you touch your chest, as if to stem the tide of emotions. "I-I could not survive losing him again.”

“You will not,” your mother assures you quickly. She squeezes your hands with a strength that grounds you. You nod, the truth of her words sinking in — Friedrich is here, and he will not leave you again.

She opens her mouth to say more, but the sound of a door creaking open has you both turning. Friedrich emerges first, a cigarette dangling loosely between the fingers that holds a glass of brandy. Smoke curls around him as he steps into the dim hallway, his expression unreadable in the low light. Your father slips past, giving him a wide berth. There’s something deeply off about his demeanor and you can see it in his eyes, a flicker of something uneasy, something wrong that he’s trying to hide.

“I believe we understand one another now,” Friedrich remarks.

“Yes,” your father says, his voice clipped and curt. He doesn't even look at you, his focus firmly on the door as he urges your mother to follow him. “We will bid you both a good night now.”

You take a step forward, but hesitate, confused by the abruptness of their departure. You turn to Friedrich and ask, "Did something happen?"

"It is nothing for you to worry over," he assures you, drawing you into his side. When his lips find yours the kiss is deeper than usual, the bitter edge of the smoke mixing with the warmth of the liquor. 

“Are the children asleep?” he asks once you part.

“Yes.”

“That is good,” he replies, brushing his knuckle over your cheek. His thumb lingers, stroking your skin as he watches you. You stare back at him in return, sensing a subtle shift in his mood. His gaze moves behind you, toward the door.

“Shall I fetch your coat?” you ask, wondering if he needs to take one of his solitary walks.

“You know me so well, my love,” he praises, his expression filled with affection as you gather his coat for him. 

You’ve grown accustomed to these late-night walks, the way he slips out after dusk when the pale glow of the gas lamps casts long shadows on the street. He’s never gone long, and when he comes back to you, he seems more settled. The color and life return to his face, though it fades again almost as quickly as it came. You wonder if it’s the quiet of the night that soothes him, that elusive solitude that's absent with the presence of you and the children. After so long spent in the depths of that ship, returning to a life so full of people and sound must be a struggle.

You’re not sure how long you stand in the foyer after he departs, lost in thought, the steady ticking of the grandfather clock the only sound breaking the silence. Eventually Kerstin appears. She pulls you back to reality with a tentative hand on your shoulder.

“Do you wish to retire for the evening?” she asks. 

“Yes. I suppose I should go,” you remark. 

Kerstin helps you undress in Friedrich’s absence, her quiet presence a small comfort as she tends to the fire in the hearth, stoking it until the flames crackle and cast a soft, yellow glow across the room. While she works your mind drifts to the unsettling events of dinner and your father’s odd behavior. It’s hard to feel settled without Friedrich beside you so you wait, lost in the silence of the room, for his return.  

The floor creaks outside the door and you turn instinctively. Friedrich enters, offering you a brief, fleeting smile. The tension in your chest abates, comforted by his presence. He sheds his clothes, layer by layer, until only his pants and a white shirt remain before climbing into bed beside you.

“Good night, my love,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your brow.

Disappointment settles like a stone in your heart when he turns on his side, curling his body protectively around yours and falls still. It has been the same every night since his return. A kiss and nothing more. Even on the evenings that turn passionate, he stops before his touch can dip into what you truly desire. You find yourself wondering what it is you've done wrong, what has changed. During the day, he seems happy, content even, and yet there’s a quiet weight that steals the joy you should feel. Friedrich has returned to you, and that should be enough, shouldn’t it? 

You try to remind yourself of that each time the insecurity surfaces. Tonight it’s harder to remember that, especially when your thoughts return to one of the last conversations you had with Friedrich before he left. You were lying in this very bed, your bodies intertwined, sweat cooling on your skin as you traded lazy kisses. Even now you can recall the warmth of his hands on your skin, the way your bodies had fit together so perfectly. 

“Perhaps when I return, you will be with child,” he had murmured softly against your lips.

The thought made your heart swell in your chest. “A son,” you had breathed, watching as the thought spread across his face, his eyes lighting up with something deeper than desire.

But that dream slipped away before you even knew you lost him. 

You let loose a pained sigh, your hand falling to your stomach to brush the soft fabric of your nightgown. Behind you the bed shifts and you feel Friedrich’s hand on your shoulder, firm but gentle, guiding you onto your back as he stares down at you.

“What ails you?” He questions, his face filled with concern.

“It is nothing,” you assure him, watching his expressive brows draw together and then smooth. 

“I—” you begin, faltering before forcing yourself to continue. “You have been so different lately. You do not touch me as you used to and I thought, perhaps, after you returned that you would want to try again for a child. A son.” 

Friedrich pulls back as if you’ve struck him, his lips parting in a sharp, quiet breath. The look of raw pain that crosses his face has you reaching for him, confused and alarmed, but he’s already on his feet, moving away from you with a speed that shocks you. He claws at the front of his shirt, twisting the fabric between bone white fingers.  

“No,” he whispers, shaking his head, as though your words have wounded him somehow, piercing something fragile within him.

“My love, please. What is it?” you ask, reaching for him again. 

He opens his mouth as though to speak, but the words seem to catch in his throat. Without another sound, he turns sharply, his movements jerky as he crosses the room. 

Your voice is a broken plea as you call his name, but he doesn’t turn back, doesn’t acknowledge you. His posture is rigid, his back tense, but there's a tremor in the hand that settles on the door. For a brief moment you think he might return to you until he steps through the door, closing it behind him. You remain frozen, your mind reeling in confusion at the fast turn of events. 

The urge to follow him is so strong that you nearly rise from the bed, your body already halfway to the floor before you force yourself to stay. Fights were a rare occurrence in your marriage but if you’ve upset Friedrich it would be wise to give him space. So you stay, lost in your thoughts until your eyelids grow heavy and the constant buzzing of your mind slows to a dull hum. The night slips away unnoticed, the world around you fading as you drift into a fitful slumber.

When you wake again, anxious and adrift, you find Friedrich has returned. You almost don’t see him at first. His figure is barely visible, sitting in the shadowed chair before the fireplace where only embers remain, their warmth lost long ago. 

"I shall never have a son," he says hoarsely, a quiet, unsettling stillness about him. “Nor a daughter."

Your legs slip from the bed, your bare feet barely touching the cold floor when he speaks again. 

“Come no closer,” he growls. The strength behind his words rattles your chest, echoing in your mind, pinning you in place.

“You are frightening me, Friedrich,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

"I have not even begun to frighten you, my love," he says softly, the sorrow in his tone settling like a shadow over you. “I thought if I kept pretending,” he begins as if speaking to himself, “things could be like they were before. That you could have me back as I was.”

Even though you don’t understand his words, they stir a quiet unease in you. You want to reach out to him, but the way he holds himself keeps you still.

“But you’re here now. With us,” you remind him softly. “Just as it should be.”

Friedrich doesn't respond, and the silence stretches out, your heart beating painfully in your chest. You wait, watching him, wondering if he’s even heard you. 

Then, finally, he speaks. 

"I died. Though not in the way you imagined,” he begins, his words low and strained. “When Ellen and I found Thomas...it was too late. For all of us.” His eyes flutter, and for the first time since he began speaking, he looks away from you. “When I woke, I was not the same.”

You wait for him to continue, to explain but he only stares at the floor with an empty expression. “You are still my Friedrich,” you assure him, taking a tentative step forward.

His eyes snap back to you, dark and unblinking and you see a rawness to him, a hunger in his gaze, as if something inside him is clawing to get free. Something that would consume him if he let it. He rises from the chair and the shadows cast by the faint light remaining in the room stretch behind him, making him seem almost monstrous. Slowly, hypnotically, he moves towards the bed, his steps soundless. 

“Ellen was not mad. What haunted her was real,” he says. “And now, he has made me like him.”

The memory of Ellen’s terror surges to the forefront of your mind. Her frantic muttering, the words tumbling out in a panic about the demon that pursued her. You think of Professor von Franz’s wild claims she was haunted by a vampyre. Those ridiculous accusations had been the catalyst that finally pushed Friedrich to agree to what Ellen had desperately begged him to do — return her to Thomas.

You shake your head to deny the absurdity of your husband’s confession. But deep down, a part of you already knows the truth. It’s been there all along, quietly accumulating like a slow, inevitable tide with each subtle shift and unspoken change you noticed and ignored since his return. There is a fundamental, irrevocable rupture in the essence of your husband, a hunger that has transformed him into something unrecognizable. 

A vampyre. 

The word lingers in your mind, its weight sinking deeper with each passing moment. You think of your children, your eyes instinctively drifting to the wall that separates your room from theirs, a barrier that suddenly feels so thin and fragile. Your pulse quickens, and the air grows heavier.

Friedrich seems to sense your thoughts before you can voice them.

"I could never harm them," he says so steadily and sincerely that it leaves no room for doubt.  

You stiffen when his fingertips brush over your jaw, the coldness so stark that you don’t understand how you never noticed it before. You want to retreat from his touch but you feel rooted to the floor, some force beyond your control anchoring you in place.

"It was always you I could not resist," he admits, his words thick with desire.

As his fingers trail down the side of your neck, the sensation sharpens a memory deep within you. Fragments of your dreams begin to slip into focus, flooding back with startling clarity, almost overwhelming in their intensity. The flash of sharp teeth beneath his mustache, the scent of blood in the air. The mix of pain and pleasure. 

"They were not dreams," you whisper.

“No,” he replies, his hand resting against the side of your throat, seeking out the ache that has never quite faded. 

His confession frightens you, your mind struggling to reconcile the man you love with the creature standing before you. Yet even as you turn from him, overwhelmed with terror, there’s another part of you — one that loves him so completely, so unconditionally — that pulls you back toward him. The longer his fingers linger at your throat, the harder it becomes to tell where love ends and fear begins.

"You must know, I never intended to remain," he admits. "I only wanted to see you...and the children, just once more. To smell their hair and kiss their sweet faces." His gaze falters, a deep sorrow flickering in the depths of his eyes. "They looked so innocent, so pure...but I knew they would be well. They had you."

He moves closer, his chest hovering just inches from yours, a space that would have been filled with breath if he were still capable of it. But instead, he remains unnervingly still.

"Then I found you here," he continues, his words soft and haunting, "in this bed, so lost in grief. You were dreaming, and you whispered my name. You called for me, and in that moment...I could not leave you. I could not bring myself to walk away." 

Tears shimmer in his eyes, his emotions raw and vulnerable. You never expected to see your own grief mirrored in his face. The sight twists like a knife through your chest, an unbearable ache.

“That is my greatest sin, my love,” he whispers, his voice breaking with the weight of his confession. "That I could not let you go.”

The desire to comfort him and ease his grief compels you to act, but you find yourself frozen — locked inside your body, unable to move, to speak, to do anything more than listen as he continues. 

“I thought I would be content to simply watch, but then your father…” His words twist, and that monstrous intent you had glimpsed before surges between you, fierce and ravenous, filling the space between you. “He intended to barter you off to those vile men. I could not — would not — let that happen.”

Your stomach heaves at the implications of his words. You want him to stop speaking, to unburden you of this awful knowledge but he presses forward, relentlessly even as the first of your tears begin to fall. 

“Do not weep for those loathsome creatures, my love,” he says, his gaze hardening. “They would have hurt you. Hurt our children.”

You shake your head as if that very motion might change the truth of his words. “You killed them,” you whisper, horrified. 

“Yes.” 

There is no shame in his voice, no regret in the familiar blue eyes that meet yours — only the overwhelming weight of his devotion, so thick it feels like it could crush you. You take a half step back, the solid wood of the bedpost halting your retreat. Friedrich moves forward, closing the distance between you with unsettling ease, trapping you with his body. Fear tightens in your stomach, squeezing the breath from your lungs. 

“It was but a simple thing to take their lives,” he whispers, his hands framing your hips. 

A shiver runs through him as he presses his cheek to yours. His touch is so familiar that your body reacts before your mind, instinctively leaning into him even as fear urges you to pull away. His lips trail from your cheek to somewhere lower and you flinch, gasping in short, panicked breaths. You can feel the wild flutter of your pulse that he seeks out. 

“Will you take my life too?” The question escapes before you can stop it, fear clinging to every syllable.

Friedrich recoils from you, the weight of his presence receding, and you inhale shakily, as if the space between you can finally fill with air again. His posture shifts, and the sharpness in his expression softens. You stare at him, and for a fleeting moment, he feels familiar again — your Friedrich once more. 

“No,” he replies anguished, the mere idea of what you’ve asked unfathomable to him. “You are my wife,” he says, as if that alone is all the answer you need.  

In the silence that follows he studies your face, searching for something — some sign that you know not how to give him. 

"I never meant for it to be like this,” he whispers. He takes a small step back, his gaze lowering, filled with a deep, agonizing regret. "I should have let you go.” His hands clench and unclench at his sides, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He hesitates, and then, almost too quietly, as if the admission is one he can hardly bear, he murmurs, “I must leave.”  

When he looks up again his expression is devoid of any emotion. “I shall ensure your well-being, and see to it the children are provided for.” He speaks as though he is very far away, his tone is calm, distant. “You will not need to remarry for the sake of security."

The thought of losing him again wrenches something from deep inside you. For all the darkness in him, for the monstrous thing that lives beneath his skin, you realize that the idea of life without him is a void you could not survive again. You can’t breathe, can’t think beyond the sudden, crushing terror. 

“No,” you sob, the mix of fear, desire, and love so tightly wound together that you can no longer distinguish one from the other. You move towards him, your steps unsteady, as though the very ground beneath you is crumbling. “You cannot leave me. Not again.”

“Do not," he pleads, stepping back just out of reach, his voice thick with desperation. "I have not the resolve to deny you."

"You are my husband," you remind him, tearfully. "You made a vow to me."

"Till death," he answers, his grip tightening around your hands, halting your frantic reach for him. "But I no longer live."

“I care not,” you tell him, the weight of your love for him, your need to have him here with you the only thing that matters. The thought of losing him again is unbearable. It twists you with desperation, a wild, consuming need, and in this moment of painful clarity, you finally understand why he stayed, why he endured the torment of his own nature – all for you and your daughters. 

“We can make a new vow,” you urge desperately, pushing aside the turmoil within. You should be repulsed by what he's become. But something deeper pulls at you, a love so fierce and unyielding it overrides every ounce of logic. You love him too much to let go.

Friedrich watches you then, his gaze full of hunger and pain, and you know that he’s fighting himself, fighting his love for you. The very same battle raging within you.

“You do not know me any longer,” he replies. "I know you,” you insist. “You are the man who has tended to our daughters with such devotion since his return. His love for them is as steadfast as the love he bears for me. A man who has always upheld his marriage vow, to protect and cherish me.”

He shakes his head but it is a halfhearted denial. 

“I love you, Friedrich,” you whisper. “Please.”

The words have hardly left you when his lips are on yours, his hands grasping desperately for you. He pushes you towards the bed, his body enveloping yours when he presses you into the mattress. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close. The relief you feel is a heavy, wondrous thing and you part your lips, allowing his tongue to sweep into your mouth. 

A whimper slips from you when he pulls away, but he’s quick to quiet you. He grips your nightgown with both hands and wrenches it apart to bare your body to his heated gaze. He kisses each breast, taking a nipple in his mouth, his tongue circling it until it grows hard and achy before paying the same attention to the other. 

His mouth trails lower, down your soft stomach, tenderly kissing each line and mark left from carrying his children. When he reaches the soft tufts of hair that hide one of his favorite parts of you he inhales deeply. He uses two fingers to spread you open, his tongue seeking out the delicate bundle of nerves. Your eyes close and you clutch a fistful of his curly hair, pulling it urgently, needing him even closer.

Friedrich knows your body intimately and as he worships between your thighs your voice grows louder, a hunger stirring low in your belly. Your hips rise and fall, meeting his mouth, crying in delight when he gently works a finger inside. 

“I shall never grow tired of the taste of you…your warmth,” he praises, slipping a second finger beside the first. 

He curls them, moving like a relentless wave upon the shore, steady and rhythmic. When his thumb circles your bud with tender attention you grasp the bedsheets and groan. You feel so close, every muscle in your body pulled tight in anticipation of release. The bed shifts and you feel Friedrich’s lips brush down your inner thigh as his fingers continue their steady work. 

“Come for me,” he commands, an unsettling current under his words that your body can’t help but obey. 

You peak with his name on your lips, louder and more wanton than you’ve ever been. As your orgasm washes through you, a faint pulse of pain threads beneath the euphoria, blending with the sensation in a tangled, confusing mix. You realize then Friedrich’s feeding from you, his teeth sinking into the tender skin of your inner thigh to draw more than pleasure from you. His fingers still work within you and you watch through half-lidded eyes as he drinks until your vision grows hazy and unfocused.

When you open your eyes again he’s shed his clothes, the coolness of his naked flesh sending a shiver through you. The two of you share a sweet, lingering kiss and he pulls back, staring down at you. Your eyes are drawn to the wound on his chest, a jagged mark left by the creature. Tentatively, you raise your hand, watching his face as you reach for it. He doesn’t stop you, but his chest rises and falls sharply, a long-forgotten reflex in anticipation of your touch. 

You brush your fingers over his torn skin and he shudders when your lips follow, offering him acceptance and benediction the only way you know how. He whispers your name and your thighs part in welcome. There’s no pain as he slips inside, just that familiar ache you’ve been craving. You gaze up at him in the dim light, watching his blue eyes shimmer with a flash of silver that fades and returns with each roll of his hips. 

His eyes close when you wrap a leg around his hip, urging him to reach deeper inside you. After all this time, you need more from him, all the passion and desire he’s trembling with the effort to hold back. Your heart has made its choice, binding itself to him in a way that transcends fear, desire, and everything else and you want him to know that.  

“It is okay, my love,” you urge, baring your throat to him. 

Your words cause his pace to falter and he stares at you with a deep crease in his brow. “No,” he says with a shake of his head. 

“I want you. All of you,” you assure him. 

Friedrich’s lips part, curling up to reveal teeth sharper than you remember. In a blink he lunges forward, his chest pressing into yours as his mouth seals over the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder. Your skin gives way under his teeth, and a deep growl resonates in his throat. His hips drive into you hard enough for the bed to creak dangerously and you wrap your arms around him, holding on until your limbs become too heavy.

There’s no fear in this moment, only immense, indescribable pleasure. You smile at him as he pulls away, the coolness of his breath still lingering on your skin. His tongue flicks over a stray drop of your blood at the corner of his mouth, the motion slow and deliberate, almost reverent, as though savoring every bit of you. The sight sends an unexpected jolt of desire through you, as intoxicating as it is unsettling.

You moan beneath him, digging your nails into his biceps when he pulls your knees to your chest. It hurts in the best way possible and you share a messy, coppery kiss as he groans into your mouth, the sounds of his desperate desire enough to herald your own end. Every part of your body hums with pleasure, except for the sharp sting in your neck. 

You touch the torn skin gingerly, the sluggish flow of your blood surely staining the sheets beneath you. Friedrich brings your fingers to his lips, cleaning them with his tongue. Then he brings his thumb to his mouth, puncturing the skin. Dark red blood wells up from the wound, and you watch breathlessly as he traces the bite mark on your throat. Your skin tingles and you look questioningly at him.

“There will be no mark,” he assures you.

Cautiously you touch your throat, finding only smooth, unblemished skin. You look up at him in amazement.

“I do not deserve such a look,” he says. “I am a monster.”

“You are my Friedrich,” you reply, echoing the words you spoke earlier, your hands gently cradling his face.

Your thumbs stroke his skin, taking in the familiar way his eyes crinkle as he smiles down at you, his gaze filled with adoration. He rests his forehead against yours, and you smile wider than before, the joy you feel almost too much to bear.

Even now, with everything that has come to light, your love for him remains unshaken. He is woven into the very fabric of your soul, as much a part of you as the blood that courses through your veins. No matter what comes next, your love for Friedrich will endure. The bond between you is eternal, transcending time and even the boundaries of life itself. 

♡

Thank you all so much for reading this series! I had a bit of a tough time with the ending, so I really hope you enjoyed it. Your thoughts and feedback mean everything to me, so feel free to leave a comment, reblog, or send an ask if you’d like!

[madhattervanessa]

Care

Summary: A bad day.

Warnings: uhm, depression naps, loss and regaining of appetite, excessive sleeping, Simon lets himself in, fluff

Words: 1169

A/N: This is very self-indulgent but I felt like posting it anyways. Sending love to anyone who can relate.

Requests are open as always.

Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

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You let your water glass clink against the sink and move back towards the sofa. The morning sun is barely peeking through the curtains but you feel tired.

The walking pad you had gotten remains unused as you lie down.

Everything hurts. There are days like this, where it just does and a bone-deep tiredness just blinds you, pulling you to sleep, even though you had already slept for 10 hours.

It’s no use trying to resist.

So you sleep, again, curled up on the couch under your blanket.

It’s already enough that you don’t go to work but when Simon texts you, asking where you are, it makes you hide underneath the blanket even more.

You don’t want to bother anyone with your sudden, overwhelming sadness, is what you text back. You really don’t.

Another text.

You ignore it.

When you wake up again, it’s well into the afternoon, almost approaching evening.

At least you feel comfortable now, still tired and sad, but comfortable.

The creak of your front door makes you freeze, going completely stiff, as the door falls back into its lock.

The heavy footsteps are familiar and you tug your blanket away from your face just in time to see Simon appearing in the kitchen.

He doesn’t say anything, just stands in the door frame for a moment.

He approaches with care. It's like you can feel his heavy gaze on you as he rounds the couch and comes to another halt right in front of you.

And then he produces a paper bag and puts down a steaming paper cup (a little cardboard sleeve already wrapped around it), right in your eye sight, on the coffee table.

You furrow your brows and already feel tears gathering in your eyes. So you ruck the blankets a little higher. The dull sound of your water bottle hitting the wood of the table follows.

He puts the paper bag down, too.

Then, he just turns on his heel and leaves again, locking the door behind himself.

You fall into an uneasy slumber after that, but manage to take a few sips of the drink he had brought you, before hiding underneath the blanket again.

The next time the door opens, he locks it behind him.

The warm, savoury smell of food wafts through the air but this time, Simon’s footsteps are so quiet, you wouldn’t know he was inside if you hadn’t heard the lock turn, moving through your kitchen like a ghost.

You sigh and push your nose deeper into the cushions.

You jump when you feel Simon sitting down on the couch, already having nodded off again.

He wordlessly checks how full the water bottle and the paper cup are, before gently pushing them to your side and setting down the crinkly, white plastic bag in his hand. It clinks metallically as it hits the table and your eyes automatically follow the movement of his hands.

He unpacks a plethora of black boxes, some of them steaming, some seeming cold.

You recognize the packaging immediately- your favorite sushi place.

You can feel your mouth salivate a little, a sudden ache pulsing behind your eyes that reminds you that you had barely had breakfast before you had slept for another eternity.

He puts down two beers and one of those yuzu lemonades you like to get sometimes, before he eventually leans back. He glances at you before demonstratively patting the cushions, obviously searching for the remote.

You huff and carefully extend an arm out of your cocoon to reach for it. 

He hums when you give it to him.

When he opens his beer with one hand, you instantly realize that you desperately need to go pee.

Simon’s gaze follows you, as you get up and quickly retreat to the bathroom.

As soon as you are back, you stop in your tracks.

Simon has spread out all of the food on the table, containers opened.

Additionally, he has put a blanket on himself, his legs spread invitingly.

You chew on your lip and hesitate for a moment.

He wordlessly flips the blanket open and meets your eyes.

You keep chewing on your lip but you are cold and you know Simon is a walking heater. 

So you cave and crawl into the offered space.

Simon manhandles you until you are comfortably sitting back against his chest.

He is quick to positively swaddle you in the blanket, making sure to fold the edges down underneath your feet. On screen, a trashy dating show is already on, running on low volume.

He grabs one of the boxes and wordlessly deposits it on your lap. You quickly notice a second pair of chopsticks lie in the box as he starts to eat.

It takes him getting through just one of the takeout boxes for you to grab hold of the chopsticks and start getting into a few of the side dishes, before you eventually start picking out your favorites from the other boxes. Behind the armrest of the couch, Simon carefully collects them in another bag as soon as you are both done with them.

As the show goes on, you eventually come back to doing your little quips, commenting on who you think is a toxic asshole and how the women deserve better. Simon grunts his approval or murmurs something about those bloody idiots, while steadily making you eat up the rest of the food.

With your belly full and your mind busy with the trashy tv show, you don’t even notice the time passing. Simon keeps you warm, his hands constantly rubbing over your skin, petting at your waist, wrapping his arm over you, rubbing his cheek against your temple.

When the last episode finally wraps up, Simon turns you in his arms until you can nuzzle into his neck.

He lets his hand stroke over your back as you try your best not to let the weight of the day get to you again, the aching emptiness.

He just holds you, silently. Providing you with the steady up and down of his breathing and the blissful absence of any questions.

Eventually, his hand wanders up to gently wrap around the nape of your neck, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb in slow circles over your scalp.

“D’you want me to stay over?”

You don’t answer.

You do, you desperately do, but this already feels like you have required too much of him. All of your thoughts are circling around being a burden, not even being able to open your fucking mouth-

“Tell you what”, he mutters, “‘m gonna watch a few episodes of a show I wanna see. Finish my beer. You just stay there and keep me warm and comfortable, yeah?”

You make a non-committal sound.

He switches on some sort of moody, crime focused show and keeps petting you. His thumb strays from your hair to your pulse every now and then, gently stroking over it, until your eyes eventually fall shut and you drift off.

-

[4nyangnyangz]

hey, emo boy! 🎸

synopsis: when you reconnect with your childhood best friend after finding out that he finally achieved his goal of forming a band, you’re introduced to their enigmatic guitarist—a man with an intimidating aura that both intrigues and unsettles you. a chance offer for guitar tutorial sessions brings you closer, and what begins as casual lessons quickly turns into something deeper as you exchange subtle yet intimate interactions. as your feelings grow stronger, so does the undeniable tension brewing between you, complicating a bond that was never meant to be simple.

pairings: guitarist!beomgyu x fem reader ; implied soobin x yeonjun??(just crumbs. don't expect much)

tags/warnings: smut but mostly plot, grinding, dry humping but no actual intercourse, use of pet names, strangers to lovers(?), beomgyu is whiney and gets jealous easily, soobin as y/n's roommate and kai as y/n's best friend, there might be more I forgot to mention- THIS ISN'T PROOFREAD!

wordcount: 13.8k.... i got carried away :((

fic below the cut!!

-----------------------------------

“Y/N! You awake yet?” the familiar voice of your roommate echoes through the surrounding walls of your shared apartment.

“Ugh, what does he want now....” you groan to yourself while you sit up, stretching your arms. You were just starting to wake up from what seemed like an eternal slumber.

“Yeah, what is it?” you reply while yawning, trying to imply that you literally just woke up.

“Can you please buy some eggs and bread from the mart nearby? We ran out, and I don't feel like having just bacon for breakfast.” the voice from the other side of the door responds, lowering his voice and almost muttering towards the end. You still heard it, of course.

You get up from your bed, slipping a comfy t-shirt on and tying your hair in a ponytail as you headed out of your room.

You slightly chuckle at the sight of your roommate preparing breakfast while wearing an apron with purple hearts on it. You noticed that his hair was a bit messy indicating that it hasn't been long since he woke up too, and the way the cute apron looked slightly stretched against his bigger frame, knowing he was at least 6 ft tall, wearing an apron that was clearly not made for someone of his size was quite a sight to see first thing in the morning.

“Did you hear what I said?” Soobin, your roommate, says as he shoots his sharp gaze at you while you were observing him, noticing that you looked amused at his interesting fashion choice.

“I heard you, don't worry.” you shrug. Your smile fading after seeing his clearly unamused expression. “Is there anything else you need?”

He shakes his head as a response and gets back to preparing the ingredients for breakfast.

“Alright then, I'll be right back.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” Soobin calmly says as you head back to your room to get changed.

As soon as you made it to your room, you quickly change into one of your favorite hoodies and baggy pants. You grab your phone after getting dressed and made your way out.

You were heading towards the local mart nearby where you and Soobin would often go to whenever you were missing a few items at home. You both would take turns doing housework, and it was Soobin's turn to make breakfast today so here you are, on shopping duty.

You scrolled through your phone with one hand while you stuffed the other in the pocket of your hoodie as you were walking towards the store. It was a 15 minute walk from your place, and you weren't going to get a lot of stuff, so you decided to walk. You knew you needed a bit of exercise to start your day, so this wasn't too bad.

Multiple notifications pop up at the top of the screen of your phone while you were mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. You didn't pay them much attention, until one particular notification from your best friend catches your eye.

(9+ unread messages from Hyuka)

Assuming it was something urgent, you immediately tapped on the notification popup as he isn't the type to send this much messages to you unless it's important, considering you just talked to him last night right before going to sleep. Your eyes immediately widen after reading the thread of messages he sent one after another.

Hyuka:

(hey y/n so i just woke up...)

(GUESS WHAT)

(WAIT NO DON'T ACTUALLY)

(THIS IS CRAZY???)

(YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE THIS.)

(you're the first one i'm telling this to so you better keep this a secret for now, ok?)

(I actually can't believe this, wait-)

(So remember when I kept telling you I wanted to start a band?)

(you may not know it but I personally asked a few people at school)

(AND GUESS WHAT?????)

(you've probably guessed it by now ik)

(BUT I DID IT!)

(I FINALLY FOUND PEOPLE TO START A BAND WITH)

(I can't share the full details here yet but I'll def talk to you about it when we meet, kay?)

(See you soon, y/n! <3)

Your surprised expression soon turns into a smile of relief as you could almost feel your friend breaking into your phone and appearing in front of you if he could just to share the good news with you. You knew how long he was waiting for this moment and he was just so eager about wanting to start a band so he could finally showcase his love for music, and share it with the world.

Hyuka was the nickname you gave your best friend, Huening Kai. You have been friends with him for God knows how long, even to the point where his parents would even treat you like you're part of the family and your parents would do the same for him.

You had a feeling it wouldn't be too long before he could reach his dreams, you've always known that he was a genius when it came to music. He would write the most poetic lyrics, play multiple instruments, make the most beautiful melodies, heck, he even wrote you a song for your birthday that you really liked enough to make it your ringtone at some point.

Knowing that he has finally made the first step to reaching his dreams of being in a band, made you feel nothing but proud of him. You witnessed his growth throughout the years, and you knew that he was capable of so much that the world needs to hear the songs he can come up with and know how talented he is.

Before you knew it, you already arrived at the store. You replied to your friend's messages, congratulating him before placing your phone inside the pocket of your baggy pants. You grab a small cart before heading straight to the aisle where you can find what you're looking for, since you've already memorized the structure of the place after shopping here so often.

You grabbed a tray of eggs and placed it on your cart carefully. You add in a few snacks here and there, and soon enough you get to the bread section. You just chose the usual bread that you guys have at home, plopping it unto your cart. You continued to look around, picking up some of them to take a closer look.

After much thinking, you decided to get Soobin a different type of bread aside from the ones that he will be using for the usual breakfast toast. It's a known fact for you that Soobin LOVES bread, he would always bring some home for him to munch on and share with you whenever he could.

You took your time choosing which one to get for him, especially after remembering the frown on his face during your encounter with him this morning. You thought to yourself that the stress from being student council president and having to work part-time on top of that must be getting to him, so getting him a few snacks wouldn't hurt.

You recalled Soobin's favorite had a sweet red bean filling. You also wanted to grab one custard cream filled bread for yourself. Thankfully, those two flavors were right next to each other. You extended your arm to get the bread, since they were at the very top of the shelves, yet you couldn't reach the top, even after trying to get them on your tiptoes.

Feeling a bit embarrassed at your multiple attempts but still not succeeding, you looked around, trying to find some help as it was too late to just back out from getting them. Fortunately, you had found someone in the same aisle just a few steps away from you, who at first glance was definitely tall enough to reach the top of the shelf and get them for you.

Your eyes landed on a tall and lean male with long, dark brown hair resting just right above his shoulders. His bangs were slightly covering his eyes, as he slightly lowered his head to look at the product he was holding in his right hand. You immediately notice his unique sense of fashion as he was dressed in a somewhat eye-catching way.

There were layers of silver and black accessories dangling around his wrists, and his fingers were wrapped in rings. He was dressed in an oversized black tee with a huge print of what seemed to be a band logo in the front, and black ripped jeans held together by the gray belt that was wrapped around his waist. Your eyes dropped down to his leather boots that went just up around his calf, that complemented his overall fit.

Remembering the messages you read from your best friend earlier, you immediately thought to yourself how this man you just saw looks like he would be in a band just perfectly. You couldn't help but be intimidated by the vibe he gave off. You were late to realize it but you stood there, eyeing the stranger from head to toe, slowly admiring him from a distance.

“Never seen someone that's dressed like this before?” the stranger now in front of you says nonchalantly, not even sparing you a glance while still examining the product he has been holding which immediately puts you back to your senses.

You felt blood rush to your cheeks as you blink twice and immediately shake your head, as if you just snapped out of a spell. Realizing that the stranger noticed how you were basically staring him down, you quickly rushed to defend yourself, worried that he might have misunderstood you when you had no ill intentions.

“N-no, of course not! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare... I actually think you're dressed really well. I mean, your style fits you a lot-” you ended up blabbering about how you liked his style before you even realized it. Your mind soon puts you back in your place, reminding you why you even turned to his direction in the first place.

“Wait, no, that's not why I was looking at you-” you sigh, a huge wave of embarrassment taking over you. You were lost in your words when you hear the stranger laugh, finding it adorable how you were a stuttering mess after he caught you staring at him and merely asked you a question.

He finally turns to your way, making eye contact with you and you immediately noticed his sharp features, a hint of eyeliner resting under his eyes, and with a closer look, you noticed that he has an almost angelic face despite the way he presented himself. You weren't sure if it was possible to be more flustered than before, but you were definitely not prepared to have an encounter like this in your local mart, on a random Thursday morning.

“I'm just kidding, don't worry. You just needed help with getting these, right?” he says as he walks closer to your direction, looking at the top row of the shelf.

You wanted to ask how he knew, but you could only imagine how he saw your countless attempts to get them for yourself before finally caving in and ask for help.

“Yes, please. Thank you...” is all you managed to say, looking down while feeling another wave of embarrassment crash upon you once again. You're just glad he was aware of the reason you looked to his direction, at least.

He stood right behind you as he reaches out to get what you needed. He moves his arms just above your shoulder carefully, making sure to not accidentally hit you while he picks up the packs of bread with ease.

“Here you go.”

You turn around to face him as he hands them over to you. You slightly raise your head to look at his face so you could thank him properly, and he shoots you over a smile. You felt your face getting warm after your eyes met.

“Thank you so much, and I'm sorry again, I hope you didn't get the wrong idea... I didn't mean to offend you in any way-” you start off, trying your best to dismiss the fact that the small distance between you was making you really nervous.

“I wasn't offended or anything, don't worry. I was just joking earlier, so don't take it too seriously.” he replies as he gives you a reassuring smile. You smile back at him in relief.

There was a small moment of silence as you both just stood there in front of each other, not saying anything.

“My name's Beomgyu, by the way.” the stranger introduces himself first, breaking the awkward silence.

You felt relieved and glad that awkward moment didn't last any longer. You have been feeling a bit uneasy ever since your conversation started, after all.

“What's your name, pretty?” he adds, the corner of his lips forming a slight smirk, while making sure to meet your eyes.

Getting flustered was one thing, but Beomgyu just managed to make you nervous at every point of your interaction with him. You weren't sure if it was because of his intimidating style, his unreal, almost angelic features, his deep and raspy voice calling you "pretty", the small distance between the both of you or just the idea of him flirting with you was making your heart beat faster and louder by the second, but you swore he could've heard it if you didn't answer him right away.

“I'm y/n.” you answered, smiling back at him, trying to cover up how you were feeling all sorts of emotions deep down at that moment.“You have a nice name, Beomgyu.”

He chuckles at your response and frankly sad attempt before replying, “Thank you. I like your name too, y/n. Will I be seeing you around?”

“Well, I live nearby and I usually go here when I need to get something in a hurry.” you hesitantly reply, unsure if this was the answer he was looking for.

“Great. I guess I'll start going here often then.”

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks once again from his response, and you immediately break eye contact. You attempt to laugh it off before responding.

“Sure, I might run into you again.” you mutter as you awkwardly laugh before looking away. You wouldn't even dare imagine the thought of seeing him here again.

You hear him chuckle for a bit before responding back. “I'll definitely say hi when I do. Well, I have to go now, I have practice in a few minutes. Guess I'll see you around then, y/n?”

Part of you was glad that you can finally get out of this situation, you have been feeling so overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions for a while now and you swear you felt yourself getting physically weak at some point, but a small part of you was also feeling sad that your encounter with Beomgyu had to end there, you just didn't want to admit it, of course.

“Yeah, see you around, Beomgyu. Thanks for your help, again.” you finally look back up at him and smile.

He smiles back and waves at you before turning to leave and walk away. You smiled back, waving your hands until you saw his silhouette disappear from your sight.

----------

“I'm back. Sorry to keep you waiting.” you opened the front door to your shared apartment with Soobin and soon found him lying down and facing sidewards in the small sofa that could barely fit him.

He sits up after he hears your voice and immediately reacts to the smell of his favorite bread. There were times you'd question if he was a bunny in his past life from how he acted around his favorite food.

“Did you get the red bean filled bread? Or am I just smelling things?” he looks up at you, expecting your response. You haven't seen him this alive ever since you woke up today.

You smiled while nodding as a response. He immediately gets up from the sofa and heads to your direction, rummaging through the bags of food you just brought from the store and he has a wide smile on his face after seeing that you got him his favorite bread.

“Thank you so much, y/n! You have no idea how much I needed this. Sorry for acting weird earlier, I wasn't having the best day.” he mutters while fiddling with the bread, feeling apologetic from how he acted earlier.

“That's okay. I got your back, Soobs.” you assured him as you gently tap his shoulder, letting out a small laugh as you noticed him cringe at the nickname.

You help Soobin move the stuff you brought to the fridge and decided to help out with preparing breakfast. He swiftly whipped up two servings of French toast with some bacon at the side which the both of you finished in an instant. Although your roommate wasn't the best cook, he definitely wasn't bad at cooking either. You're just glad you won't have to worry about cooking and washing the dishes for today, at least.

Soobin gets up and brings the used plates and kitchenware over to the sink, and starts washing them.

You help out in cleaning the table while he does the dishes. Teamwork makes the dream work, indeed.

“Hey, Soobin?” you start the conversation while you were both cleaning up, just to avoid any awkward silence, or at least that's what you convinced yourself. It was totally not because you couldn't stop thinking about your short encounter with Beomgyu at the store earlier.

Soobin responds with a small hum while he stays focused on washing dishes.

You hesitated for a bit. You started to question yourself whether you should bring up what happened at the store or not, but you decided to go for it anyway. It's your roommate of all people, surely he won't make a fuss about it, right?

“I'm just asking this because I'm curious, but does the name 'Beomgyu' ring a bell?” you continued, feeling a bit cautious of his response.

You heard him hum for a moment as if he was contemplating something before he finally answered.

“Beomgyu...? I would definitely remember someone with that name, but I don't think I've heard that name before. Do they go to our school?” You weren't sure why, but you felt somewhat relieved after hearing Soobin's answer.

Soobin was right. Beomgyu isn't the type of person you would forget so easily, so Soobin would surely remember Beomgyu right away when you said his name, if they actually have met before, you thought to yourself.

“No, I don't think he goes to our school. It was my first time seeing him at the store earlier. I just thought you might know who he is, since you know a lot of people at school and you visit the store more often than I do.” you explain after realizing it might have been a weird question to ask all of a sudden.

“Well, why do you ask? Does it matter if I knew who this "Beomgyu" is?” he coos, trying to analyze the situation.

Now realizing that it might have been a bad move to ask Soobin about it, you immediately stop wiping the table to look at him. You just noticed that he was done washing the dishes and he was now facing you while leaning back at the counter where the sink was.

“N-no, it's nothing. I was just curious.” you mutter, praying he wouldn't ask you any further but knowing Soobin, you knew the conversation wasn't gonna end there.

“Y/N, don't tell me....” he pauses for a bit and raises an eyebrow. “Do you li-”

(Now Playing: Ariana Grande - Daydreamin')

Before you could stop Soobin from completing his next sentence, the ringtone playing from his phone echoes through the kitchen and you let out a sigh of relief. You're just glad you didn't even have to try and end the conversation. Whoever it was, they had called just in time.

Soobin also sighs, slightly ticked off that he wasn't even able to finish his question especially after he was now curious who this Beomgyu was that you brought up out of nowhere.

He slightly taps his hands at the sides of his pants, making sure his hands were dry before picking up the phone. He opens his phone and you noticed how his eyes widened and his expression changed immediately after seeing the screen light up.

“Oh, right- I HAVE TO MEET YEONJUN HYUNG! SHIT!-” is all he managed to say while he panics for a bit before finally deciding to answer the call.

“Hyung! Sorry, have you been waiting long? I'll be right there soon!” your eyes followed Soobin as he dashed to his room, making you laugh at his antics. You weren't surprised as this wasn't the first time Soobin would act like this, especially after knowing it was from Yeonjun.

You haven't met Yeonjun yet, but you've only heard so much about him from Soobin. From what Soobin had told you, you knew that Yeonjun was a model, he was older than Soobin, and that he's someone that Soobin "owes a lot" to. That kind of explains why Soobin acts like a switch had just been flipped and he's on alert mode when it comes to Yeonjun.

You finish tidying up the table and head to the sink to wash your hands before heading back to your room and changing back into comfortable clothes.

-------------

“Here's your large iced vanilla latte, enjoy!” Soobin smiles, flashing his dimples as he gently places the drink to the small tray in front of him and hands it over to the customer. The girl standing in front of Soobin smiles back at him before taking the tray over to her table with her friends. You noticed her friends giggling and cheering for her while she makes her way back to their table. You let out a small laugh, thinking it was adorable that there are some customers who seem to like coming to the cafe just to see your roommate.

“The boss should really give you a raise. I think this is the third time I've seen that group this week.” You slightly nudged Soobin's shoulder and whispered, just enough for him to hear. He chuckles and shakes his head while feeling embarrassed, you notice his cheeks were flushed with a tint of red.

This scenario was all too familiar to you, and it wasn't a surprise that you've had multiple customers who visited the cafe for the first time, soon turned into regulars because of Soobin. As much as you didn't want to admit it, Soobin was tall and good-looking. He had the sweetest voice whenever he would talk to the customers, he had the most captivating smile that emphasized his dimples, all of which he was fully aware that he would use those to his advantage, and it worked like a charm every time.

You respected how Soobin was dedicated to his job despite being just as busy with his countless responsibilities as the Student Council President. You may have a hard time getting used to seeing this side of him, especially since he's your roommate, but you couldn't deny that he was certainly getting the job done.

You both turn towards the entrance of the cafe as the ringing of the tiny chimes hanging above the door catches your attention. Your attention is soon diverted to the tall figure entering the premises, along with two people following behind him.

“Y/N! Soobin hyung!” a familiar voice echoes throughout the cafe.

“Kai is just as cheerful as ever, huh...” Soobin whispers back, just enough for you to hear.

You greet the tall blonde with a smile, you felt your nerves immediately loosen up after seeing your best friend, Huening Kai. He was always such a comforting presence to you. It felt like the stress you've had from school and the hours of hard work you have been doing up til' now disappeared in an instant, after seeing him come to visit you.

You noticed an unfamiliar face scoot beside Hyuka, to get a better view of the menu displayed on the screen behind you. He was slightly smaller than Hyuka, he had black hair and he had boba-like round eyes that were looking eagerly at the screen, trying to decide what to order.

“I'll have an iced americano, please.” he said, turning to you with a smile. You immediately noticed how his features turned almost cat-like after you saw him smile. You smile back at him and nod, tapping on the small screen in front of you to take his order.

“How about you, Beomgyu hyung?”

You looked up at him again, thinking you might have heard him wrong.

Beomgyu? There's no way it could be the Beomgyu you thought it was, right?

You followed his gaze as he turned to the person behind him, and your eyes widened after seeing the third person standing behind the two men in front of you.

Talk about luck.

It was, indeed, the Beomgyu that you had in mind. The person you met at the store, wearing the exact same outfit you saw him in earlier. Except this time, you noticed his hair was a bit messier, his eyeliner was slightly smudged, and he wore a guitar case like a backpack, the straps looped over his shoulders and the case resting snugly against his back.

You thought to yourself that at first glance, Beomgyu does seem like the type to play the guitar, yet you couldn't help but be surprised after seeing him anyway.

“I'll just have what you're having, thanks.” he mutters while he scrolls through his phone, not even sparing the three of you a glance.

Did he not see you? Part of you had hoped for it, even though you knew that he would eventually, especially since Hyuka will be introducing you to the both of them in a bit.

You weren't too sure how to approach him now, after your first encounter at the store earlier. Should you just wait for him to talk to you first? Should you pretend to not know him? You felt the nervousness that you almost forgot about take over you again, and countless thoughts started to fill your mind.

“I feel like getting that too, so you can make that three iced americanos, y/n. Oh, and let me also get two chocolate chip cookies with that, please.” Hyuka completes their order with a smile, and you can sense that he was excited to tell you all about his new friends and the progress of their band.

You finish taking down their order and you repeat it back to them to confirm if you got everything correct before sending it over to Soobin. Hyuka gives you an approving nod and makes sure to thank you first before they head over to their table.

You head over to Soobin and you help out with preparing their order. You plated the cookies while he was in charge of the drinks.

“I don't think I've seen those guys before, are they Kai's friends from school?” Soobin asks while he fills the three empty cups with ice.

“I don't know, it's my first time seeing Hyuka with them either.” You shrug. Hyuka would usually visit the cafe by himself, and this was the first time he brought someone else that isn't his family. You glanced at their table as you continued to chat with Soobin but you immediately tensed up when you noticed that Beomgyu was looking at your direction.

Feeling embarrassed at the sudden eye contact, you immediately turned your head to Soobin, trying to hide your face that started heating up the moment you and Beomgyu's eyes met. You let out a nervous laugh as you carried on with your conversation with Soobin, hoping that Beomgyu didn't notice.

Soobin wraps up the order and nudged you to take a break in the meantime so you could catch up with Hyuka. You were about to refuse and tell him that you could do that after your shift ends in a few hours since Hyuka usually waits for you anyway, but Soobin insisted and he left to greet the next customer before you could say another word of protest.

Thankfully, it wasn't a busy day, and Soobin assured you that he could manage the work by himself. You promised him you would go back the moment it gets busy however, and he agreed. You would also cover for Soobin during the few times that he had to leave for something urgent in the middle of his shift, so Soobin would gladly cover for you too if the situation calls for it.

You took one glance at Hyuka's table and sighed. You were excited to finally catch up with your friend, but at the same time you were feeling nervous thinking about how it would go, meeting Beomgyu again like this.

You brought the tray containing the drinks and cookies they ordered and carefully placed it on their table. Hyuka gently taps on the empty seat beside him, signaling for you to come sit with them. You smiled at him before taking a seat. He shoots back a really cheeky smile at you in return.

Beomgyu clears his throat loudly, almost as if he intended to interrupt your little moment with Hyuka.

This catches your attention and you all turn to face him. You were surprised to see such a dark expression on Beomgyu's face, it looked as if he didn't want to be there.

“Alright guys, this is my best friend, Y/N. We've been friends for like, forever, that we're basically family now. Right, Y/N?”, Hyuka pauses for a moment and looks at you expectantly, and you felt a bit embarrassed, but you nod as a response, not wanting to let him down.

He smiles after seeing your reaction and continues, “And these guys, are my bandmates. The pretty one with the long hair right here is Beomgyu hyung! He's going to be our guitarist. I've only seen videos of him play before and I thought that he was really good, but after practicing with him and seeing it for myself earlier, I was even more impressed!”

You glance at Beomgyu's reaction and you noticed how he was basically turning red from the compliments and how enthusiastic Hyuka was about introducing him, that it made you giggle and he looked away while resting his chin on his palm as an attempt to cover his flushed face, feeling even more embarrassed. You were now especially curious to see how Beomgyu would play the guitar, especially after seeing your best friend shower him with praise.

“The cute one over here is Taehyun!” Hyuka adds and you look at the young man sitting across you.

“Please don't call me cute.” he looks at Hyuka straight in the eye with a serious expression which made the three of you laugh because doing that somehow just made him look even cuter.

“Alright then, my bad! The HANDSOME one, is Taehyun.” Hyuka retorts, still laughing

from Taehyun's response and emphasizing on the word handsome. “He is our vocalist! He's an amazing singer and he has exactly the perfect voice I had in mind for the songs I've made! Oh yeah, and he's the same age as us, but he's older than me for a few months so that technically makes him my hyung. But he insists that I don't call him hyung, so I just call him Taehyun.”

You and Taehyun exchanged smiles after Hyuka formally introduced you to them. You glanced at Beomgyu and your eyes met, which made you feel flustered. You still couldn't get used to Beomgyu meeting your eyes without feeling nervous.

You could make eye contact with Taehyun just fine, but not with Beomgyu for some reason, was it because you guys already met before Hyuka introduced them to you?

“And I'll be playing the drums.” Hyuka blurts out and you immediately turn to him with a surprised look on your face which makes him laugh. “What's with that look, y/n?”

“Nothing... I just thought you would be on the keyboard or you would play the guitar, too. I just never expected you to be the one to play the drums, really.” you muttered. You knew that Hyuka could play the drums, but it wasn't the instrument he played often so it was a surprise to you when he revealed that he was going to be their drummer.

He laughs before explaining that they needed a drummer, and he's the only one that could do it so he just went for it. He was just happy that he's finally formed a band, officially.

“How about you, y/n?” Beomgyu asks, and everyone's attention was on you now. “Do you play any instruments?”

“Well...” you were caught off guard by the question, and you weren't expecting Beomgyu to ask you that. You hesitate a bit before answering, “I know how to play the guitar a bit... Hyu- I mean, Kai, was the one who taught me how.”

Kai looks back at Beomgyu with an approving nod, looking quite proud of himself. Beomgyu on the other hand, raises an eyebrow, looking like he isn't satisfied with your answer.

“Really? We should play together sometime. I can teach you how, too.” he replied, raising the corner of his lips and forming a smirk.

There it goes again. You were starting to get used to the feeling of being flustered, nervous, and embarrassed whenever you spoke with Beomgyu. You immediately avoided eye contact after seeing how he responded.

“That's right, Beomgyu hyung is really good and I think he would be a great teacher. Plus, you're a fast learner so I trust you, y/n!” Hyuka adds, genuinely supportive of the idea. You saw Taehyun nod, agreeing with Hyuka. You laughed nervously, not even wanting to entertain the thought of how that would go, but you just couldn't say no to that now that everyone's basically on it. It won't turn out so badly as you're imagining it, right?

“Sure, maybe when we have some free time, I guess...” you muttered, in hopes of dismissing the topic there.

“Your number.” Beomgyu places his phone on the table, right in front of you. You look down at his phone, then back at him with a confused expression. “So I could text you when I'm free, and I can teach you how to play.”

You're just now realizing that there's no turning back, and that he was actually dead serious about this. You glance at Kai and Taehyun, trying to find some sort of way out from this, but to your surprise, you see Taehyun with a smile, giving you a thumbs up and Hyuka was covering his face with his two hands as if he was blushing, eyes wide, nodding his head furiously, urging you to go type in your number already.

Lastly, you look over to Beomgyu and he just shoots you a mischievous grin. Was this really a good idea?

You were hesitant at first, but you didn't want to make it seem like you were being forced to do it. A part of you was actually looking forward to it, you were nervous yet excited to imagine meeting up with Beomgyu, just the two of you, so he could teach you and you could play together.

You were starting to feel blood rush to your cheeks at the thought, so you immediately look down to face the screen of his phone and type down your name and number, saving your information in his contacts and quickly handing him back his phone. You were hoping they didn't notice how flushed your cheeks were.

“Y/N!” you hear Soobin's voice call you from a distance, and you turn to his direction, seeing a slight panic in his expression. You didn't realize how the cafe was starting to get full, and you took this as your chance.

“Oh no, its starting to get busier. I'm sorry, I need to get back to work, Soobin needs my help. Let's catch up next time. I'll message you later, Hyuka. See you guys around then!” you said, getting up from your chair in a rush and patting Hyuka's head before quickly heading back to help out Soobin with the workload.

Hyuka starts pouting after you pat his head, him and Taehyun starts waving at your back as you rushed to get back to work. You never noticed since you left in a hurry, but Beomgyu's expression immediately darkens after you left the table. Soobin notices this however, and catches the younger boy's glare at him, as if he did something wrong.

Soon after you arrive at the counter to help out, Soobin immediately thanks you and divides the workload.

“Was this a bad time to call you back? Sorry, it was starting to get hectic.” he whispers, feeling bad and worried at the same time, and he swore could still feel Beomgyu glaring at him then.

“No, no, it was the perfect timing. You saved me there, thanks.” you whisper back at him in relief, which makes him more confused, but he doesn't question it and the both of you continue working.

-------------

A few days have passed since Hyuka introduced Beomgyu and Taehyun to you at the cafe. Since then, you and Beomgyu have been messaging each other. He would also visit the cafe along with Taehyun and Hyuka from time to time, and you have started to feel more comfortable interacting with him, it no longer felt like you were walking on thin ice whenever you talked.

It was safe to say that you were slowly becoming good friends with Hyuka's bandmates, and Soobin also had the chance to meet them at some point. After spending some time with them for few days, you had soon found out that Hyuka and Taehyun were classmates, and it was Taehyun who asked Beomgyu, who is his roommate, to join the both of them to form a band.

Before you knew it, you fiddled with the hem of your shirt as you stood in front of the door to Beomgyu and Taehyun's apartment. You and Beomgyu both agreed that you would be meeting him today for guitar practice, since you both didn't have school and you didn't have to work during the weekends.

You open the front camera to your phone so you could fix your hair and check your outfit one more time. You didn't want to show up wearing something too extra or too simple, so you asked Soobin for help to choose an outfit. You both ultimately decided on a cropped tee, high waisted jeans, and a pair of converse high tops that matched your outfit. You also wore light makeup to complete your look.

You have been standing in the empty hallway of their apartment for a at least 10 minutes, trying to make yourself look presentable, adjusting the length of you shirt, fixing your hair, and doing a quick retouch to your makeup. You were just making sure that you looked decent, it's not like you were trying to impress anyone, right?

After a lot of hesitation, you took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell and looked around while waiting for the door to open. You felt like your heart almost dropped to the floor when the door opens after a few seconds.

You look up and see a half-awake Beomgyu running his left hand through his hair, while his right hand holds the door open. He was dressed rather comfortably, it was very different to the usual dark outfits he wore outside whenever you met him in the cafe with Hyuka and Taehyun. Beomgyu wore a plain white t-shirt under an oversized black cardigan, and a pair of black pants. You were used to seeing him in his usual dark and "emo" fashion, but seeing a different side to Beomgyu felt new, but you liked it.

He greeted you with a smile before you letting you in and you followed him to his room. You looked around while you nervously stepped inside his room as he closes the door behind you. He had a bunch of band posters surrounding the walls of his room and you noticed he had a shelf stocked with albums of his favorite artists. You saw that he had 3 guitars displayed at the corner of his room, next to a desk where he had a computer setup. You couldn't describe it very well, but Beomgyu's room felt very him.

“You can sit on my bed, I'll go get the guitar.” he says as he goes to pick up the guitar.

You nodded and sat at the edge of his bed carefully. Your eyes followed Beomgyu's back as he prepares the guitar that he will be using to teach you. You started to tense up, remembering the familiar feeling that you've had during your first encounter with him at the store, your heart was beating louder and faster, and you were starting to feel nervous again.

You weren't expecting to get nervous especially after you thought you were finally comfortable being around with him, but the idea of you and Beomgyu being alone in his room made you feel more nervous than ever.

You've been to Soobin's room before to get a few things, and you've always hung out with Hyuka in his room countless times, but why did this feel different? Why were you so nervous about being alone with Beomgyu in his room when you were just going to get guitar lessons with him? The more you tried to think rationally and calm yourself down, your mind wasn't helping you.

The edge of the bed dips down at Beomgyu's weight as he sits down cross-legged beside you, carrying the guitar and repositioning it just above his thigh.

“You okay? You look so nervous.” he says with a laugh as he looks down while tuning the strings of the guitar.

How did he know? Was it too obvious? A hundred questions filled your mind. You were worried you might be overanalyzing everything.

“Y-yeah, I'm okay. I'm just nervous because I haven't played in years.” you answer with an awkward laugh.

That was one of them, but you couldn't possibly tell Beomgyu that you were nervous because you're alone with him in his room, could you? You hoped he wouldn't question you any further.

“That's alright. I'm here to teach you, so don't worry.” he assures you, looking to your direction and he smiles after your eyes meet.

You smile back, feeling a bit relieved. Maybe you were just worrying over nothing.

“Besides, Taehyun won't be coming home today. It's just going to be the two of us.” he says with a hint of mischievousness in his tone. “You won't have to worry about making mistakes, no one's gonna hear them except for me.”

The feeling of relief didn't last long as Beomgyu's words echoed in your head like crazy. You were already nervous even before he told you that, and now you couldn't calm yourself down even if you tried. Your heart was racing and you felt your cheeks heating up.

Beomgyu notices the change in your expression, making him chuckle. You look away, feeling more embarrassed that he's teasing you about it.

“Let's start with something easy. I'll show you first.”

Beomgyu starts playing the guitar, soon switching between two chords simultaneously. You turn to him, paying attention to how he plays. He starts humming along the tune of the song as he strums up and down.

(Now Playing: 505 by Arctic Monkeys)

He plays up till the first chorus, stopping right before the second verse. You clap your hands, genuinely amazed from what you just watched. Hyuka was right. Beomgyu was really good at playing the guitar, and you just saw it for yourself.

Beomgyu chuckles and shakes his head, feeling a bit embarrassed at your reaction. He hands you over the guitar, and you follow him, crossing your right leg over your left leg, and you position the guitar on top of your thigh.

“I really haven't played in years, so don't make fun of me, okay?” you mutter and he laughs, finding you adorable.

“I won't, I swear.” he then demonstrates how to do the chords, placing his fingers on top of his arm, mimicking how he presses the string of the guitar. “These are the two chords you need to remember, first Dm, and then Em.”

You copy how he positions his fingers and apply that on your end, pressing the strings eagerly. You look at him, trying to check his expression if you were doing it right. He tilts his head slightly, muttering a silent hum before moving. He scoots over right behind you.

“Do you mind?” he asks first, and you were taken aback by his actions, but you shake your head, assuring him that you were okay.

Beomgyu leans forward, finally closing the distance between the both of you and he slowly wraps his arms around you, placing his hands on top of yours, guiding your left fingers to show you how to do the chords properly while guiding your right hand to show you the correct strumming pattern. Beomgyu hums while he plays the song again, this time showing you how to do it on your end as moves your hands gently.

You thought you would be okay, and that you wouldn't mind since he was just going to teach you how, but now you couldn't think straight. All you could think about was how he rested his chin on your shoulder, how his deep voice while he was humming along tickled your ears, how gentle his hands felt on top of yours, how you felt completely enamored with his scent and how you felt his warmth on your back as he embraced you.

You're not the type to engage in any physical activity with anyone, even with your family or your closest friends. You couldn't wrap your head around the fact that it was your first time being this intimate with someone, and it was with Beomgyu.

You had hoped he wouldn't notice how you were basically starting to sweat from the nervousness, or how the sound of your own heart beating was louder than the guitar playing in front of you. You bit your lower lip, in hopes of hiding that you were having a hard time breathing from how fast your heartbeat was going at this point.

You were quickly brought back to your senses when you felt Beomgyu stop moving your hands and you hear him laugh.

“Geez, y/n. Were you even paying attention?” he slowly pulls away, gently letting go of your hands before moving beside you, leaving you almost frozen in place. You pull yourself together, clearing your throat before responding.

“Of course I did.” you replied, trying your best to sound normal. You were still having a hard time calming down and regaining composure, but you didn't want to get more obvious by the minute.

“Really? Show me how it's done, then.” Beomgyu says, flashing a grin while crossing his arms, paying full attention to you.

You looked at him nervously one more time before looking down to check if you positioned your fingers at the fret of the guitar correctly.

“If you do well, I'll grant one wish.” he offers, and you look up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“And if I don't?” you question. He wouldn't say that without having a catch, would he?

“Hmm... if you don't,” his voice grows deeper and more serious as he pauses before slightly leaning forward, not breaking eye contact. “Then maybe I should give you a little punishment for it.” he adds, the corner of his lips curling up to form a smirk.

You stared at him for a few seconds, trying to process what he just told you. After you realized what he just said, you were about to retort him when he cut you off.

“Nah, I'm just kidding.” he pauses with a laugh before adding, “We will just have to keep going until you get it right.”

--------------

“Y/n- Y/N!”

You were immediately brought back to your senses when you started to hear Soobin's voice echo in the background, fading in as if you just started to snap out of something.

“Are you okay? What's going on? This is like the third time today that I've seen you spacing out.” he muttered as he puts his both of his hands on your shoulders while facing you, visibly worried.

“Y-yeah, I'm fine. Sorry about that.” you mutter and immediately get back to work. You hear Soobin sigh before he took his hands off of your shoulders.

You rummage through the counter before looking up to greet the customer waiting in front of you.

“Good morning! What can I get for you to-”

You weren't able to finish your sentence as you lock eyes with Beomgyu, grinning at you. You felt your cheeks go warm and your heart skip a beat.

For the past few days, you just couldn't seem to get Beomgyu out of your head, especially after your first guitar session with him. It has gotten to the point that even your roommate has noticed you spacing out multiple times, which was unusual for you since you wouldn't usually have problems focusing on work, studies and even on house chores.

You thought you needed to pull yourself together when the source of your unusual antics suddenly appeared in front of you.

“Good morning, y/n. I'll just get my usual order, thanks.” Beomgyu smiles at you, handing over the payment for his order.

“I'm on it. I'll send it to your table in a few minutes.” you smile back at him, an attempt to somehow cover up the fact that you were getting nervous again whenever you were around his presence. He nods at you as a response before heading to his table.

You turned around to get started with Beomgyu's order when you notice Soobin looking at you, raising his eyebrow as he leans on the counter with his arms crossed.

“What?” you chuckled as you question the judging expression on his face.

“I think I might have a feeling I know what has been on your mind these days since you started acting weird... or should I say, 'who'.” Soobin replies and he made sure to emphasize the last part.

“It's really nothing, Soobs. I just have a lot on my mind recently, that's all. I swear I'll do better today, so don't worry too much.” you shrug, clearly getting at what he's implying to you before leaving the counter and working on Beomgyu's order.

You knew that Soobin would be the first to notice these things, so you wanted to stop the conversation there before it turns into another nagging session from him. You were reminded of the few times you noticed how he started to act like he was your father or something, especially when you weren't being yourself. You knew he always meant well, you just weren't in the mood for it at the moment.

Soobin stared at your back as you walked away from him, his eyebrows furrowed in worry. He averts his gaze over to Beomgyu's table, and immediately gets taken aback when he sees Beomgyu glaring at him as if he was about to shoot daggers with his eyes. Soobin scoffs at the sight in disbelief.

You quickly finish Beomgyu's order, placing two chocolate chip cookies and an iced caramel macchiato onto the small tray. You slightly fixed your hair before heading to his table while carrying the tray that had his order.

As you walked towards him, you noticed that he was on his phone with wireless headphones resting on his head, covering both of his ears. Sunlight spills through the window, illuminating the little table where he was seated and perfectly emphasizing his defined features. Despite his dark-presenting exterior, you can't help but notice how his face looks so angelic. It almost felt like you were observing a painting.

He notices you getting closer and turns to you, smiling as your eyes met. You smiled back, hoping he wouldn't notice the tint of pink flushing your cheeks. He takes off his headphones and puts them down to rest on his shoulders, wrapping around his neck.

“Here's your cookies and iced caramel macchiato, Beomgyu.” you carefully place the cup of coffee and plate of cookies on the table, making sure not to spill anything or make a mess. He thanks you and smiled at him as a response.

“Let me know if you need anything else.” you say while you hold the now empty tray in your hands, about to turn around when he answered, stopping you in your tracks.

“You.”

Taken aback from his response, you looked back at him with a confused expression.

Did you mishear what he said? The grin plastered on his face when you looked back at him wasn't much help when you felt your heart skip a beat.

“Sit here with me. Let's talk for a bit.” he suggests, tapping the table as a gesture to invite you to sit down on the empty chair across him.

“Beomgyu, I'm-” you were about to decline his offer when he cuts you off.

“I know, but you always make time for us whenever we visit, and it's not that busy right now.” he looks around, observing the almost empty cafe. There were only three occupied tables, including his.

“Pretty please?” Beomgyu mutters. You were taken aback by the shift in his tone, and the change in his expression, especially how he looked up at you with almost puppy-like eyes that could convince literally anyone, you thought to yourself.

You sighed before placing the tray on the table and sat down facing him, taking him on his offer.

“Fine, but only for a few minutes, okay?”

He smiles at you before taking a sip of the coffee you prepared for him. You noticed how his eyes widened after taking a sip and he nods slowly while savoring the drink, implying that he approves of it.

You couldn't help but giggle at his reaction. Soobin usually prepares the drinks while you're in charge of the counter but today wasn't a busy day so you decided to do Beomgyu's order. You were just glad that he liked it.

“So, where's Kai and Taehyun? Don't you guys usually come together?” you asked, a hint of curiosity visible in your tone. This was the first time he came by himself so you wondered if something had happened.

“Dunno. I never got to ask them. I'm sure they wouldn't really mind, though.” he replies almost nonchalantly as he continues to sip on his drink.

Not quite the answer you were expecting to get, but you didn't question him further. You rested your chin on the palm of your hand as you turned to the glass window just beside the table. Outside, the city wakes up, people hurrying past, but here, in the small and cozy space of the cafe, time feels like it slows down. A short moment of silence fills the air.

“Aren't you going to ask me why I came here so early?” Beomgyu mutters after a while, breaking the silence.

You look at him for a moment before saying anything. He also rested his chin on the palm of his hand, except he wasn't looking out the window, but facing you directly. It was almost as if he was observing you, and silently admiring your features. The thought of him gazing at you intently sent your mind spiraling and you almost felt like your heart was going to explode.

“Alright then, why did you come here by yourself so early?”

Beomgyu leans forward, slowly closing the distance between the both of you with his face still resting on his hand.

“It's because I wanted to see you.” Beomgyu replies, still staring into your eyes. His gaze was somehow intense, yet it felt gentle. His voice was deep and soft at the same time that it almost sounded like a whisper.

You sat there with widened eyes as a fluttering sensation begins in your stomach, like tiny wings beating against the walls of your insides. A mix of excitement and nervousness runs through your veins, a feeling that is only too familiar whenever you were with Beomgyu.

Your cheeks and ears were warm and you felt a weird sensation all over your body. You swore if he could come any closer he could probably hear the raging sound of your heartbeat by now. His answer pierced through your ears, and you were once again intoxicated by the effect he had on you.

You immediately turned away, breaking eye contact before you could completely get lost in your thoughts.

“You know you could still see me even if you went with the others, right?” you respond, a desperate attempt at trying to keep calm and handle the situation you were in.

“I know, but I want you to pay attention to me, just me. This is different.” he responds almost immediately, and you could tell he was serious despite not looking at him just by the tone of his voice.

“Well, you got what you wanted, I guess...” you muttered and you heard Beomgyu chuckle at your flustered state.

Your heart flutters, each beat echoing in your ears. You glance around to make sure no one, especially Beomgyu, hasn't noticed. The feeling is both delightful and awkward, leaving you wishing to disappear and yet wanting to bask in the sensation a little longer.

“Did you two fight or something?” Beomgyu asks and you looked at him with a confused expression on his face. You noticed that he was facing towards the counter, looking at Soobin. You realize that he was probably referring to what happened earlier.

“You mean Soobin? No, we didn't.” you answered and you heard a soft hum from him as a response.

“Huh... weird. It sure seemed like it.”

“He's just looking out for me, that's all.”

“Soobin.... he's not your boyfriend, is he?” Beomgyu mutters while fiddling with the straw from the iced caramel macchiato.

You blinked, momentarily stunned by Beomgyu’s question. The idea of Soobin being your boyfriend seemed completely out of left field. For a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. You quickly shook your head, trying to clear up the confusion before it could spiral further.

“Uh… What? Soobin? No, no, of course not,” you finally stammered, trying to shake off the strange feeling of discomfort that suddenly settled in your chest.

“He's just my roommate. We're just friends, nothing more than that.”

Beomgyu looked at you for a long second, his eyes slightly narrowed as if he were searching for something you weren't saying. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he fiddled with the straw, and it clicked. It made you wonder if he was trying to figure something out, something about you, maybe.

Wait. Is he... jealous?

Your heart raced a little faster, and you couldn’t help but glance away for a second to collect your thoughts. Why was he jealous?

You had to admit, you hadn’t really expected Beomgyu to react this way. His usual carefree attitude seemed to have disappeared, replaced by something else. You couldn't ignore it anymore, the slight edge in his voice, the way his gaze kept flicking between you and Soobin, like he was trying to measure something.

“Beomgyu,” you started, your voice slightly shaky, “You don’t have to worry about Soobin. I mean, he’s just looking out for me like he always does. But there’s nothing between us, really.” You felt your cheeks heat up, and you prayed he didn’t notice how flustered you were.

His eyes flickered up to meet yours, but there was that familiar wariness in them now, like he was still trying to process what you were saying. “It just seemed like you two were...” He trailed off, unsure how to finish the thought. His eyes kept darting between you and Soobin, and you could feel his unease pressing against you.

Beomgyu cleared his throat, suddenly shifting in his seat. His eyes avoided yours now, focusing on the iced caramel macchiato in front of him as he stirred the straw absentmindedly, like he was trying to regain some composure.

“I... I didn’t mean to make things weird,” he muttered, his voice much quieter than before.“I was just asking.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in his tone. It was as if he was backpedaling, trying to pull away from the conversation as quickly as possible.

“No, Beomgyu, it’s okay,” you said quickly, your voice a little more steady than you felt. “I just… I didn’t expect you to be so concerned. I promise, there's nothing going on between me and Soobin. You don’t need to worry.”

Beomgyu looked at you briefly, but his expression softened, his eyes a little unsure. “Yeah, I know,” he said, shifting uncomfortably.“I just... I don’t know. It seemed like you two were acting weird earlier, like—” He cut himself off, suddenly aware that he was still digging himself deeper.

“Anyway, forget I said anything. I’m probably just overthinking it.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the flustered feeling bubbling up again. It wasn’t lost on you that Beomgyu was avoiding your eyes now, his usual carefree demeanor completely replaced with a subtle, almost embarrassed unease.

You couldn’t deny it—he was definitely jealous, even if he wasn’t openly admitting it. The realization made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t expect.

You opened your mouth to say something more, to try to reassure Beomgyu that everything was fine and that his worries were unnecessary. But before you could get the words out, Soobin’s voice rang through the air, cutting off the fragile moment before it could go any further.

“Y/N!” Soobin called, his tone light but firm as he approached the counter. “Break’s over. You’re needed back at the register.”

You blinked, startled by the interruption. For a second, you felt a wave of relief wash over you, almost like you had been given an escape route before the conversation could get any more complicated. You didn’t know what you would have said next, or if you would have been able to keep your composure if the moment between you and Beomgyu had stretched on.

“Right,” you muttered quickly, the words coming out a little too fast. You shot a glance at Beomgyu, offering him a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry, I have to get back to work. My break's over.”

You were about to stand up, already feeling the pressure of the conversation lifting, when Beomgyu’s hand gently wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. His touch was warm and firm, but there was an unmistakable softness to it, like he didn’t want to let go just yet.

You froze, your heart pounding at the unexpected contact. Beomgyu’s fingers felt like they had a quiet weight to them, as though he was holding onto something that mattered more than either of you had acknowledged.

“Wait,” Beomgyu said quietly, his voice just above a whisper. His eyes met yours, and there was something deeper there, something more vulnerable than you’d ever seen from him before.

“Before you go... just... I don’t know. Don’t think I’m trying to avoid what we were talking about. I just—”

He stopped himself, like he was second-guessing his words. You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, and for a brief moment, you wondered if this was your chance to clarify things, to make sure he didn’t misinterpret everything that had been said. But then, that familiar tension crept in, the same kind of nervousness that always seemed to bubble up around him. You weren’t sure if either of you were ready for it to go deeper, but the connection between you was undeniable now.

You gave him a small, reassuring smile, trying to hide the nervousness in your chest. “I know, Beomgyu,” you said gently, your voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to explain anything. We’ll figure it out, but right now, I need to get back to work.”

You felt his grip on your wrist loosen just a little, but he didn’t let go completely. His eyes softened, and you could tell he was still thinking about something, still processing everything you had said. He seemed torn, like he didn’t want to let you leave without resolving the unspoken tension, but at the same time, he knew he had to.

“Let's talk when you come over.” he said, his voice more steady now, though there was still a hint of hesitation. “Take care of yourself, Y/N.”

You nodded quickly, feeling a mixture of relief and disappointment at the way things had left off. Before you could second-guess yourself, you gently pulled your hand away from his, standing up and walking toward Soobin, who was now holding the door to the kitchen open for you.

As you passed by, you stole one last glance at Beomgyu, who was staring at the table, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of his cup. You couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next, if his feelings for you were as complicated as they seemed, or if he would keep pushing them down.

Either way, you knew that things were changing. And for better or for worse, the dynamic between you and Beomgyu had just become a lot more complicated.

For now, though, all you could do was focus on your shift. Or try to, at least.

----------------------

A few days had passed since that awkward, yet strangely intimate, conversation with Beomgyu at the café. The words you had almost said, those feelings you were still trying to figure out—kept swirling in your mind, replaying over and over. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d thought about it the same way, if he felt anything close to what you had felt in that moment.

Today, you were standing in front of Beomgyu’s apartment door, your hand hovering nervously over the doorknob. The familiar flutter of nerves settled in your stomach, but this time, it felt different.

There was a weight to the air that hadn’t been there before—the unspoken tension between you both, lingering after that conversation at the café.

You exhaled slowly, trying to calm your racing heart. You had been looking forward to this guitar tutorial session for weeks, but now, knowing that things might not be as simple as before, it felt harder than ever.

Shaking your head, you reminded yourself that you’d be fine. It was just a guitar lesson. Just like it always was.

With a deep breath, you raised your hand to knock, but before your knuckles could meet the door, it opened.

Beomgyu stood there, looking just as you remembered: casually dressed, his hair a little messy in that endearing way, and that usual glint of mischief in his eyes. But something was different this time. There was a small pause as his eyes met yours—just a moment longer than usual, before he stepped aside to let you in.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice soft but warm, though there was still an undercurrent of something unspoken between you.

You nodded quickly, managing a small smile, though your heart was still in your throat.

“Hey, Beomgyu,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you stepped inside, your hand lightly brushing past his as you entered his apartment.

The door clicked shut behind you as you stepped into Beomgyu’s apartment, the familiar smell of his space greeting you, but today, everything felt different. The usual easy vibe between you two seemed a little distant, as if there were invisible threads tugging between you both that neither of you could quite untangle.

Beomgyu didn’t seem his usual carefree self—his usual teasing smile was replaced with something more guarded. His gaze flickered to you, hesitant, before he motioned for you to follow him.

“Let’s go to my room,” Beomgyu said quietly, standing in front of his living room with his hand on the hallway door, as if he was still trying to decide whether or not he was ready to address whatever awkwardness hung in the air.

You nodded, biting your lip as your heart raced in your chest. Was he going to bring up what happened?

Was he still thinking about that moment at the café when everything seemed to shift between you two?

You followed him down the hallway, and the closer you got to his room, the more nervous you became. The space felt smaller somehow, more intimate now that you were both stepping into it with this new, unspoken tension lingering between you.

Beomgyu pushed the door open, stepping aside to let you enter. The room was exactly as you remembered it—his bed pushed up against the far wall, a few posters of bands scattered on the walls, his guitar resting on a stand beside his desk. Everything felt oddly familiar, but the space seemed charged now, in a way it hadn’t before.

You hesitated before stepping inside, but Beomgyu quickly gestured for you to take a seat on the bed, which you did, sitting slightly at the edge.

“Uh, so... we can just start the lesson whenever,” you said, trying to keep your voice casual, not wanting to acknowledge the tension that was settling into the space between you.

But Beomgyu didn’t seem interested in starting the lesson just yet. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, his arms crossed in front of his chest. There was a noticeable hesitation in his posture, a stiffness that told you he was trying to figure out what to say.

“You know,” Beomgyu started slowly, his voice quieter than usual, “I’ve been thinking about what happened at the café.”

Your stomach twisted at the mention of it, the conversation you’d tried so hard to move past resurfacing unexpectedly. You blinked, looking at him, trying to push down the flustered feeling rising in your chest.

“I, uh, I didn’t mean for it to get so weird,” he continued, his eyes not meeting yours as he fidgeted with his hands. “But I just—I don't know, I thought... maybe I was being too obvious? About, you know...” he trailed off, clearly uncomfortable, but you could hear the unease in his voice.

You quickly shook your head, trying to reassure him. “No, Beomgyu, it’s not like that. You didn’t make things weird,” you said, though you couldn’t quite hide the nerves in your voice.“It’s just... things have been a little confusing lately, that’s all.”

The words felt like they were floating in the air, hanging between you both. Beomgyu finally turned his gaze to you, and you could see the uncertainty there, the way he was searching your face for something—maybe an answer, or maybe just a sign that everything was okay.

“It’s not just that,” he said, his voice a little more serious now. “I—look, I don’t want you to think I was being jealous or anything, but... I was. And I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve been acting like a jerk, right? I'm sorry, y/n.”

You weren’t sure how to answer, your heart hammering in your chest. Hearing him say it out loud, jealous, made something inside you tighten. Was that what this was all about? Was that why the air between you two had felt so charged, so different since that day? So he really was jealous?

“Beomgyu...” you started, trying to find the right words. “It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize. I just... I wasn’t expecting it either. I didn’t think you’d feel that way.”

Beomgyu’s gaze softened as he pushed off from the door and walked over to sit next to you on the bed.

His presence was warm, but there was still a tension there, lingering in the space between you. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly still wrestling with what he wanted to say next.

“I don’t want you to think I’m being weird,” he said, his voice quiet now, almost as if he were talking to himself. “But I don’t want things to stay awkward between us, either.”

You could feel your heart race in your chest again, the unspoken words hanging in the air, thick with all the things neither of you wanted to say outright. You shifted slightly, trying to find a way to diffuse the growing pressure between you both, to make the conversation feel lighter.

“So,” you started, voice just a little too high, “About today’s lesson... What are we working on? Did you want to go over that new song you were learning?”

Beomgyu gave a soft chuckle at your attempt to change the subject, but it wasn’t one of his usual playful laughs. This one felt a little more resigned, like he was unsure whether or not to just give in to the moment. He turned his gaze toward you, searching for something in your face.

“We can work on the song,” Beomgyu replied, but his voice still held that quiet, heavy undertone.“But, honestly, Y/N, I don’t want to avoid what’s been going on between us. I don’t think it’ll go away just by pretending everything’s fine.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint hum of the air conditioning, and you wondered if he was just as nervous as you were.

Finally, he sighed, and you saw his shoulders drop, as if he were gathering his courage. He walked toward you, but instead of sitting beside you, he took a step back, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” Beomgyu said suddenly, his voice low but clear. The words hung in the air like a confession, and you froze, unsure of how to react.“A lot. More than I’d like to admit.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you blinked, trying to process what he was saying. He hadn’t seemed like himself lately, and the fact that he was bringing this up now, in this quiet, vulnerable moment, threw you off. Was he really about to say what you thought he was?

“You’ve been on my mind,” Beomgyu continued, his voice growing softer but more earnest. “It’s been... hard to stop thinking about what happened at the café. I didn’t mean to come off like I was... jealous, but I guess I was. And I can’t pretend anymore that I don’t feel something for you. Something more than just friendship.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you blinked at him, your mind struggling to process the weight of his words. Was he saying what you thought he was saying?

“I like you, Y/N.” Beomgyu admitted, his eyes finally meeting yours. There was no teasing, no playful glint in his gaze this time. Just honesty, raw and unguarded. “And I’ve been trying to hide it, but I can’t anymore. I... I like you more than just as a friend. I’ve been wanting to tell you, and I feel stupid that it took so long for me to say it, but I didn't know how.”

You could feel your heart pounding against your ribs as his confession hung between you two. The room suddenly felt smaller, the air thicker, and you weren’t sure if it was the proximity or the weight of his words making everything seem so intense.

“Wait... Beomgyu, I—” you started, but the words stuck in your throat. You couldn’t deny it—your heart had been racing every time he looked at you, every time you caught his gaze. The truth was, you’d always felt a pull toward him, but hearing him say it out loud made everything feel so much more real.

Beomgyu stepped closer, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to gauge how you were feeling. “I don’t want to hide it anymore. I’ve been worried, Y/N. Worried that you wouldn’t feel the same way, or that it might ruin our friendship. But I don’t want to keep pretending that I don’t want something more.”

Your chest tightened, a whirlwind of emotions crashing over you. You’d thought about this moment before, what it would be like if Beomgyu ever admitted he liked you, if he ever acknowledged the feelings that had been growing between you two. And now, standing here in his room, it was happening.

It was all unfolding right before you.

“I’m not asking for anything crazy, or for us to figure everything out right now,” Beomgyu said, his voice a little softer now. “I just needed you to know how I feel. Because it’s been eating at me, and I don’t want to keep pretending like everything is just... normal between us when it’s not. Not for me, at least.”

For a long moment, the two of you stood there, the world outside fading away as everything settled into this quiet space. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. It was filled with everything you both hadn’t been able to say before.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the rush of emotions flooding through you. There was so much you wanted to say, but the words felt tangled in your chest. You looked up at Beomgyu, his expression uncertain, but there was a vulnerability in his eyes that made your heart ache.

“Beomgyu...” you whispered, your voice soft but steady. “I’ve been thinking about you too. More than I probably should. It's gotten to the point that even Soobin noticed, and that's... that's why you thought we were fighting that day, he was just worried because I was acting so weird. God, I couldn't focus on work because you kept getting in my thoughts.”

His eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, you could see a flicker of hope pass across his face. You took another breath, feeling your cheeks heat up, but you didn’t look away.

“I don’t know what this means yet,” you continued, trying to find the right words. “But I don’t want to ignore it either. I... I like you too, Beomgyu. I feel the same way.”

The words felt surreal as they left your lips, but the moment they did, the weight you hadn’t even realized you were carrying seemed to lift. There was no more confusion, no more guessing. The tension, the uncertainty, it all seemed to fade in the wake of your admission.

There was a beat of silence before his expression seemed to shift, and a mischievous grin slowly tugged at the corners of his lips. The serious mood that had filled the room suddenly felt... lighter. It was like he was shaking off the tension, returning to his usual self.

“Well, well,” Beomgyu teased, leaning forward slightly as his grin widened. “I always knew I was irresistible.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift. Your heart still thudded in your chest, but now you couldn’t help but laugh a little at his cocky, teasing nature returning. His usual playful energy was back in full force, and it made you feel a little more at ease. He wasn't letting this moment get heavy, and it made you realize that maybe you didn’t have to be so serious either.

“Oh my god, Beomgyu,” you muttered, trying to hide the amused smile creeping onto your face. “You’re unbelievable.”

He chuckled, sitting down beside you on the bed and nudging you with his elbow. “Nah, I’m just being honest. I mean, who wouldn’t like this face?” He exaggerated a pout, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mischievous glint.

“Alright, alright,” you said, rolling your eyes but unable to stop laughing. “We get it, you're so charming.”

As Beomgyu's teasing continued, you couldn’t help but notice something unusual. His eyes, which usually had that dark, defining line of eyeliner, were... bare. The usual sharp, bold look was missing, and for some reason, it stood out to you more than it should have.

You couldn’t help yourself—your curiosity got the best of you, and you blinked at him for a moment, distracted from his usual antics. “Wait,” you said, squinting at him. “You’re not wearing eyeliner today.”

Beomgyu froze, his playful grin faltering slightly as he looked at you, clearly surprised you’d noticed. For a brief second, he seemed unsure of what to say, and then, in true Beomgyu fashion, his mischievous smirk returned.

“Didn’t think you’d notice,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning back with an exaggerated air of casualness. “You'd have to observe my face really closely to notice something like this, though.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile. “It’s just that, you always wear it. But today... you’re not. You didn't have eyeliner on during the last time I came, too.”

Beomgyu shrugged, his expression shifting slightly as he looked at you with a glint of something more thoughtful in his eyes.“I don’t know. Maybe I just felt like going natural today.” His voice was light, but there was a hint of something beneath the surface, something you couldn’t quite place.

You narrowed your eyes slightly, knowing he was trying to downplay it. “Uh-huh. So you just happen to forget your eyeliner... whenever you’re alone with me?”

His eyes flickered to the side, and he cleared his throat, trying to mask his slight discomfort with more teasing. “Maybe I just like the idea of being a little more... natural around you. You know, showing the real me and all that.” He looked at you with a playful grin, clearly trying to make light of the situation, but you could tell he wasn’t entirely fooling you.

You tilted your head, half-amused and half-curious.“Is that so? Or maybe you just don’t want me to see you looking too good for me.”

“Maybe I just think you’ll get too distracted if I look too good,” he shot back with a wink, though his words were softer than usual, his teasing tone lacking some of its usual edge. You couldn’t help but laugh, but you felt your cheeks flush a little.

“Right, because that’s totally what I was thinking about,” you teased back, your voice light but warm.“Honestly, I didn’t expect you to not wear eyeliner around me.”

Beomgyu grinned, leaning closer with a twinkle in his eye. “Well, now you know. And maybe you’ll get used to seeing me like this.” He reached out and poked you lightly in the side, trying to shift the conversation back to the usual playful rhythm. “Don’t be too disappointed, okay?”

You rolled your eyes, the hint of a smile still on your lips.“Disappointed? You wish.”

Beomgyu chuckled, clearly relieved that the teasing was easing the tension. “Okay, okay. Maybe I just didn’t feel like being all emo today,” he admitted, but there was a softness to his expression now, a kind of openness that made you feel like maybe this little moment meant something more.

You let out a small breath, your smile growing a little warmer. “Well, you still look good. Eyeliner or not.”

His grin widened at that, and he shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean, I already knew that.”

You both shared a quiet laugh, the conversation turning into a more comfortable banter after the initial awkwardness had melted away. Beomgyu, now fully back to his usual playful self, leaned back against the bed with his arms stretched out, looking at you with that familiar mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“So, what’s the verdict?” he asked, winking as he stretched lazily. “Am I pulling off the ‘no eyeliner’ look or what?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You look fine without it, Beomgyu. But,” you said, your fingers brushing your chin thoughtfully, “If you really want to go back to your usual style, I could always do it for you.”

Beomgyu blinked, clearly taken aback by your offer. “Huh?” he said, his expression confused but intrigued. “You want to... do my eyeliner? Like, for me?”

You tilted your head as you looked at him, feeling a little sheepish but also excited to see if you could make it work. “I mean... I really think I could do a good job,” you said, shrugging a little awkwardly. “I’ve done my fair share of makeup to know the basics.”

Beomgyu’s eyes sparkled with amusement at your suggestion, but instead of teasing you like he usually would, he simply grinned and leaned back on the bed with his arms crossed. He gave you a thoughtful look, as if weighing your words.

“You really want to try it? Alright, I won’t stop you,” he said, his voice playful and low. Rising from the bed, he walked over to his desk, spun the gaming chair around to face you, and settled into it comfortably.

You felt a small rush of pride that he wasn’t dismissing your offer, and your hands twitched with anticipation.“Yeah, I do. I mean, you’ve always done it, so I think it’d be fun to try.”

Beomgyu smiled, but there was a glint in his eyes, like he was planning something. “Alright,” he said, his tone turning casual, “If you’re going to do it, though... you’re going to need to get closer. I don’t think you can do it from over there.”

You blinked, taken aback by his suggestion, but he wasn’t giving you much time to question it. Beomgyu raised an eyebrow and shrugged, his voice casual but almost inviting.“I mean, it’s kind of hard to get a good angle from the side, right? You need to be up close.”

Your heart raced a little at the sudden proximity. You had expected this to be a bit more... casual, but you weren’t sure why it suddenly felt a little different. Still, you didn’t want to back out now. You were genuinely curious about doing his eyeliner, and there was no harm in being closer for that, right?

“Uh... I guess that makes sense,” you said, hesitating for just a moment before you moved forward.

Beomgyu, noticing your hesitation, gave you a reassuring smile and gently patted his lap. “It’s really the best angle,” he said, his voice soft but with a slight teasing edge. “You can sit on my lap, you know. I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable.”

You froze for a moment, a little unsure, but Beomgyu’s expression wasn’t demanding. It was calm, almost like he was offering an invitation instead of an expectation. He was giving you the space to say no if you wanted to.

As you hesitated, Beomgyu's eyes sparkled with amusement, and he patted his lap invitingly. “Come on, it's the only way you'll be able to get close enough to do it right,” he said, his voice low and persuasive.

You felt your face grew hotter as your heart fluttered in your chest, but you tried to brush it off as mere embarrassment.

Despite your initial reluctance, you found yourself slowly making your way towards Beomgyu, your heart racing with every step. As you hovered beside him, Beomgyu reached out and gently guided you onto his lap, his hands on your hips sending shivers down your spine. As you settled onto Beomgyu's lap, you felt a thrill of excitement mixed with a dash of nervousness. You had never done anyone's eyeliner before, and you were eager to try it out on Beomgyu.

“Okay, go ahead,” he said, his voice low and soothing as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes locked on yours. “I'm all yours, y/n.”

Your hands trembled slightly as you picked up the eyeliner, trying to focus on the task at hand. But it was impossible to ignore the warmth of Beomgyu's body beneath you, or the way his chest rose and fell with each breath.

You began to carefully line his eyes, you notice how Beomgyu's gaze never left yours, his pupils seeming to bore into your very soul. Your skin prickled with awareness, and you felt yourself getting lost in the depths of his eyes. The air around the both of you grew thick with tension, and you couldn't help but wonder if you were reading too much into the situation.

Beomgyu would occasionally ask you if you were comfortable, if you needed to adjust your position, or if he was holding you too tightly. Each time, you would reassure him that you were fine, and Beomgyu would smile at you gently. The tension between you was palpable, but it was a gentle, simmering heat, rather than a raging fire.

You wanted to do your best, to make sure the lines were perfect and the wings were even. But as you leaned in closer to Beomgyu's face, you realized that your current position wasn't ideal.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” you mutter, looking up at Beomgyu with a hint of mischief in your eyes.

Beomgyu nodded, his expression curious, and you asked,“Can I change positions? I want to get a better angle and be more comfortable.”

Beomgyu nodded again, not thinking much of it. “Yeah, sure, go ahead,” he said, his voice casual. But as soon as you started to shift your weight, Beomgyu's eyes widened in surprise.

“Wait, y/n-”

You straddle Beomgyu's lap, your legs wrapping around his hips as you settled into a more comfortable position.“I'm going to need you to stay still, Beomgyu.” you taunt, voice firm but gentle, as you leaned in closer to his face.“I don't want the eyeliner to smudge.”

Beomgyu's face went bright red as he felt your weight settle onto his lap. He hadn't expected this, and his mind was racing with thoughts he couldn't quite process. He felt a surge of excitement mixed with a dash of nervousness, but he was determined not to mess this up for you.

You noticed how Beomgyu held his breath, trying to remain still despite the turmoil inside him while you continued to work on his eyeliner. He couldn't believe what was happening, but at the same time, he didn't want it to stop. He felt your thighs wrapped around his hips, your hand holding his shoulder for support, and the way you tried to maintain your composure despite your arms clearly trembling while holding the eyeliner.

He had to fight the urge to wrap his arms around you and pull you even closer, but Beomgyu was determined to let you take the lead and set the pace. So he sat there, frozen in place, as you worked your magic on his eyeliner. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he didn't dare move, didn't dare breathe, for fear of ruining the moment.

As you continued to work on Beomgyu's eyeliner, the tension between you grew thicker and more palpable. Beomgyu's resolve to remain still and calm began to crumble, and he found himself getting more and more agitated. He couldn't take it anymore, the feeling of your thighs wrapped around his hips, your warmth and scent enveloping him, it was all too much for him. He was drunk in the thought of you, and he couldn't bring himself to hold back any longer.

“Beomgyu, I'm done-���

With a muttered curse, Beomgyu's hands shot out and wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You let out a startled gasp as you felt yourself being drawn into Beomgyu's chest, your hands still holding the eyeliner hovering in mid-air.

Beomgyu's face was buried in your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he whispered apologies and silent curses. Your heart was racing as you felt Beomgyu's warm breath on your skin, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

As you shifted in Beomgyu's lap, your eyes immediately widened after you felt Beomgyu's strained hard cock, poking your core, and you couldn't help but let out a little gasp. You tried to pull away in panic, your hands pushing against Beomgyu's chest. But Beomgyu's grip was firm, as he held you close, his body trembling with restraint, as he whispered,

“Fuck, y/n- I'm sorry.... please, don't leave.. I'm sorry, I didn't-”

You felt your resistance begin to crumble as you heard his voice, breathy and desperate. You realized that he wasn't trying to hurt you or overpower you, he was just...lost. Lost in the moment, lost in his desire for you. You let Beomgyu hold you tightly with his arms wrapped around your waist, as he tried to compose himself.

You loosen your grip on your fists, slowly moving your hands from his chest up to his shoulders, and you let Beomgyu hold you. You felt his chest rise and fall with each breath, his heart pounding against your own. You didn’t know when it happened, but slowly, you stopped fighting the heat of the moment.

Instead of feeling embarrassed or self-conscious, you started to embrace it, letting your body relax into the tension and giving yourself permission to enjoy this closeness with Beomgyu. Before you knew it, Beomgyu's touch was starting to get to you, and your mind was taking you places.

“It's okay, Beomgyu... I-” you whispered, pausing for a bit to catch your breath as you started get lost in the situation too. “I'm not going anywhere.”

Beomgyu's lips were still brushing against your neck, his warm breath on your skin sending shivers down your spine. The warmth in your body only grew as time passes, the both of you not uttering another word but your heavy breaths filled the air.

Your thoughts were racing, and a crazy idea suddenly pops up in your head. You hesitated for a moment, before biting your lip and leaning closer to him. Beomgyu feels you shift in his lap and your grip on his shoulder start to tighten.

“Um.. Do you want me to move..?” you asked him, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to hide your face in embarrassment.

Beomgyu's eyes snapped to yours, and he looked at you, feeling dazed with a mix of surprise and gratitude. “No, it's okay,” he said, his voice still low and husky. “I'll just...ah, try to calm down.”

You struggled to meet his gaze, feeling your cheeks heating up. “No, I-I want to..... let me help you, Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu's face turns red, and he looked like he was about to die from embarrassment. His lips parted for a moment to say something but he stopped himself before could. He looks at you straight in the eyes and you could physically feel yourself get weak, the ache in your already wet cunt only growing as he observed the mix of curiosity and eagerness in your expression.

After a few seconds, he nodded while his eyes were still locked onto yours. “Okay,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please, y/n... I need you.”

The sight of the desperation in his face and his breathy, apologetic voice was more than enough to ignite the flame that was already burning inside of you. You held him closer, resting your chin on top of his head attempting to relieve the heat in your core as you tried to tighten the embrace of your thighs on his hips.

The slight movement from you sends a jolt in Beomgyu's body, and he bites his lip, trying to keep himself from being too loud as he holds you closer and buries his face on your chest. You let out a small gasp, your cheeks heating up as you carefully adjust your position, feeling his hard-on press onto your underwear from below your skirt, the friction driving the both of you crazy.

“Y-you sure about this, y/n? We really don't have to do this if you-” Beomgyu asks hesitantly as he looks up to you, with a look of guilt and embarrassment visible on his face.

“Yes, Beomgyu. I want to do this with you.” You replied with a smile, trying to mask the fact that you were also nervous about what was going to happen next, but you didn't want Beomgyu to think you were unsure.

You started off by moving slowly, trying to test the waters first while asking Beomgyu every now and then if you were doing okay, you wanted to make sure that you were matching his pace and the both of you were feeling good. You kept one of your hands on his shoulders, and you moved your other hand on top of his, that was holding your waist.

“Beomgyu..” you whisper, catching your breath before finishing your sentence and pressing his hand on your waist tighter. “Y-you can move..me- if you want..”

Beomgyu nods before leaning his head back on his gaming chair, grunting and hissing in pleasure. His grip on your waist gets tighter and more desperate as he moves you to grind on him back and forth.

The wetness of your cunt leaking through your panties, mixed with Beomgyu's precum that was already staining his pants, felt more prominent and made it easier for you to move yourself on top of him. The friction in itself was already driving you crazy, but it still wasn't enough. You wanted to do more for Beomgyu, and you needed more of him.

Beomgyu would give you praises through it, he would tell you how beautiful you looked and how good you were making him feel, and before you even realized, you were already drowning in the feeling of ecstasy.

Your heavy breaths soon turned into whines of pleasure, the feeling of desperation and need for each other was constantly growing. You felt your movements get sloppier by the minute as you felt yourself about to reach your high.

“Shit, y/n... I'm close... you're doing so good for me.” Beomgyu mutters while he starts to move your hips against him faster and more aggressively, looking straight into you with half-lidded eyes. You match his pace, gripping his shoulders tighter as you continues to chase out your high.

“M-me too, Beomgyu...” You replied as you ran one hand through his messy hair. The way he calls your name with his deep voice echoes through your ears and the fucked-out look on his face only riled you up even more. You swore you could feel yourself release then and there.

You slightly tilted your head, and Beomgyu immediately catches your drift, closing his eyes as you leaned in closer to kiss him when-

Knock, knock.

“Beomgyu hyung, we're here.” a familiar voice mutters from outside Beomgyu's room, just behind the door.

“Beomgyu hyung! I brought pizza~ is y/n here yet?” another voice exclaims, and you heard footsteps coming from outside the door. You were certain that it came from Kai, while the voice before him was certainly none other than Taehyun's.

You and Beomgyu immediately stopped what you were doing and froze in place with your eyes wide open, as if you both just snapped out of a trance. Beomgyu's expression suddenly shifts after his sudden realization of what was going on.

“Oh fuck, I forgot I invited them to come over today...”

-------------------

taglist: @tubasmiracle @tyunzznluvr @interestellear-blog @no1likemybbgcharlie @hyunelixbun @dawngyu this fic is dedicated to my lovely supportive moots <333 lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[himasgod]

Could I request platonic Silver with half-fae reader who also went through the whole eternal slumber process and awakened by true love but reader just doesn't sleep. Nobody has seen them sleep, not once. Sibling dynamic kinda

(this may be a lil specific cuz it's for oc purposes lol)

SILVER AND READER

Where you wake up with him from the eternal slumber found by Lilia, and you become siblings

What would your brotherhood relationship be like if, in addition, you had the peculiarity that, unlike him, you are incapable of sleeping?

FOR OC PURPOSES 😭, to keep feeding this OC I decided to make it a little darker at the end, you can ignore it or keep it in mind! Also I would love to do a second part dealing with this ending, if you ask me, or leave it to your imagination. I'm not very convinced about some things, and I could redo it, but I hope you like it <3

Silver didn’t remember waking up. Not really. He remembered you.

You were there the moment his eyes opened, when the eternal slumber lifted its fog from his mind. Lilia stared at you in astonishment. Silver was just a baby, unlike you, who were considered a toddler when you fell under the spell. He thought it was a dream at first, your hand in his, your eyes tired, the smell of the forest in your clothes.

A lullaby left your lips off-key, fond.

And no one had ever seen you sleep.

Not Lilia, who tucked you in as a child along Silver. Not Sebek or Malleus with whom you had shared most of your childhood since you woke up. Not even Silver.

At first, Silver thought it was a coincidence. You were up before him, smiling with your usual sleepy gaze.

Later, already as a child, he noticed you still sat by the window at midnight, legs curled you as you stared at the stars.

He’d fall asleep and wake to find you still there, unmoved.And so it went on for years.

"You don’t sleep?" he asked one day, wary of startling the truth. You hesitated, biting your lip.

“I… don’t. Can’t. Not anymore.”

Silver tilted his head, that familiar calm in his eyes.

"I used to, back then. But when I woke up, I guess something stayed broken. True love fixed me, it's supposed. Maybe it did. But dreams won’t come back to me."

“So your nights are all waking ones.”

"And your days are all dreams."

He let out a breath through his nose. “Then we’re opposites.”

You were awake when he couldn’t be. You watched over him.

Since you could never sleep, you’d sit with Lilia all night, sipping flower tea and listening to the old bat ramble about days of yore. Other times, since your father needed to rest too, you’d rest your cheek against the cool windowpane and hum a wordless tun looking at the starts all night.

You were already teens, in Briar Valley. He collapsed again during sword training.

It wasn’t dramatic, just a soft sway, then Silver crumpled into the grass like a marionette with its strings snipped. Just a boy sinking into the earth, kissed again by sleep.

The young Sebek started forward, startled.

You were already kneeling by his side.

"Don’t touch him," you murmured gently. "He’ll wake when he’s ready."

You brushed a leaf from his hair, with calm. Your hand found his, and he squeezed back even while unconscious. A muscle memory.

Reassurance.

You stayed there, kneeling beside him, even as the sun shifted and the sky paled.

“I’ll keep watch. Go to rest, Sebek. You've done well today”.

It had become a ritual, almost. He would fall asleep without warning. You would stay awake at his side without fail. You’d never leave him vulnerable. Not when he could do nothing to protect himself.

He’d thank you afterward, of course. Softly.

“That’s what siblings do, right?”

You didn’t sleep, but you weren’t restless, exactly. Just aware. Always aware.

When Silver wandered in at dawn, still yawning from a nap he hadn’t meant to take, he found you in the exact same position as before.

“Did you stay there all night? Father had no experiences and those secrets that he only shares with you about his past, to tell you tonight?”

You nodded. You noticed the slight sleepy sarcasm in his voice, it wasn't aggressive. Lilia was busy that night, so you just stayed in the same position.

“You don’t get bored?”

“No. The world is quietest at this hour. I like the quiet.”

Silver joined you on the windowsill, back to the frame, head tilting to rest against yours. He did this often, leaned on you like a pillow. You let him.

“I dreamed of the sea again.”

“What was it like?”

“Big. Still. And I was standing in it, but not wet. You were on the shore. You had wings.”

You huffed a quiet laugh. “I haven’t had wings since I was a baby.”

“I know. But dreams don’t care about that.”

“I wish I could see them. Your dreams.”

“I’ll keep dreaming them,” he said. “If that’s what you need. I'll dream for the both of us”

“Then I’ll keep the watch, while you do, so you can refresh me with that world of fairytail dreams fragments later.”

One night, already in Diasomnia, Silver had a vision. Not a dream. A vision. You found him wandering the halls, dazed, half-lost.

“Silver?”

He didn’t respond. His lips twitched, trembling.

You caught him by the shoulders and held him steady.

“Hey—hey. You’re not dreaming anymore.”

“I saw you. But you weren’t awake. You were asleep.”

The breath in your chest caught.

“I kept trying to wake you. But you wouldn’t open your eyes.”

“That would be a nightmare, wouldn’t it?”

He didn’t answer right away. It wasn't a dream, it looked more like a premonition.

A memory of the future.

“No. It wasn't a dream. Just something I’ve never known. And I think I hated it.”

You'd been feeling extremely tired the last few days. Not sleepy, but tired.

For the first time, your hands shook with fear when you realized you'd closed your eyes for 20 seconds straight, feeling more at peace.

As if you were drowsy.

You held his face between your palms and met his gaze until he blinked fully back into the present.

“I’m not going anywhere. Sleep never comes for me. Not anymore.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

“Then keep dreaming me awake, and I’ll keep watching while you sleep, that's what we promised, isn't it?.”

Not rest. Not sleep.

Just understanding. And that was enough.

For now.

Until the day all the sleep you've been missing all these years claims you, embracing you in unconsciousness forever again.

Because you'll be there to protect Silver, but no one will be able to protect you when Morpheus takes pity on your curse and decides to put you to eternal sleep again,this time, forever.

When Silver's vision is fulfilled.

But that wouldn't happen until a few months later.

So it was enough, for now.

[kanaria-a]

❝Ah, a moment's ballad still remains distinctly. Surely I'm not lonely!❞

In which, you’ve fallen to a sleep spell, and only a kiss can wake you…(part one)

ft. Riddle Rosehearts, Ace Trappola & Deuce Spade, Trey Clover, Cater Diamond

$RIDDLE —

There is a garden, hidden deep in the heart of Night Raven College. Not one marked on any map, nor spoken of in corridors. It exists only in the spaces between rules, in the corners of ancient tomes and whispered stories. And at its center, there you lie—still as marble, quiet as stars, untouched by time. Sleeping. Cursed. Your slumber is the stuff of legend now, woven into the fabric of school gossip and mystery. Some say you offended a fae spirit during a duel. Others claim you found an ancient relic in the library’s forbidden section and dared to read it aloud. But the truth—what little of it Riddle Rosehearts knows—sits heavy on his heart. You had been his friend. Perhaps more. Perhaps far more than he’d ever let himself say aloud. And now, you are lost to a silence that cannot be broken by sound or will. Except, they say, by love’s kiss. Riddle had scoffed at that, once. He did not believe in things as fickle and irrational as fairytale magic. But belief, like rules, can be bent—especially when it is you lying behind a veil of enchantment, your chest rising and falling with the slow rhythm of a dream you cannot escape. He stands beside you now. The air in the garden is warm and perfumed with roses, though no breeze stirs their petals. The sky above is suspended in eternal dusk, as if the world itself is waiting. Riddle brushes a stray leaf from your hair, his fingers hovering just above your skin. "You always did find trouble where no one else thought to look," he murmurs, voice low. He’s not even sure why he’s here, not fully. This place—it isn’t part of his routine, his order, his system. But something inside him has drawn him to you over and over. He’s come in the early morning when dew clung to the hedges, and late at night when moonlight glinted on your lashes. He’s spoken to you, softly, when no one else could hear. He’s apologized for not being able to protect you, even though you never asked him to. And now… now, there is nothing left to say. Except— “I don’t believe in fairy tales,” he says, and his voice wavers for the first time. But his heart does.

Perhaps it always has, beneath the layers of discipline and decree. Riddle leans closer. His breath catches. You lie still, serene, your features relaxed in a way he’s never quite seen before. Peaceful. Unreachable. He knows the stories. He knows what must be done. It is absurd. Sentimental. Entirely irrational. But he leans in anyway. His lips brush yours—a whisper, no more than a thought given shape. It lasts only a second, barely that. And when he pulls away, he holds his breath, waiting for disappointment to settle like dust. Nothing happens. And then— You stir. Your eyelids flutter. Your fingers twitch, slow and unsure, as though remembering the sensation of movement. A quiet sound escapes your throat, hoarse with disuse. Riddle’s heart stutters. You blink once, then again, and your gaze—unfocused, hazy—finds him. He is frozen, afraid to speak. Afraid to hope. “…Riddle?” Your voice is soft, confused. “Is it morning already?” The sound of your name—your voice—nearly undoes him. He exhales shakily. “You— You’re awake.” You sit up slowly, looking around the unfamiliar garden. Then your eyes return to him, narrowing slightly. “Wait. How long was I asleep?” He clears his throat. “Long enough for Grim to be considered punctual by comparison.” You stare at him. He glances aside, red blooming across his cheeks. “You were cursed. A magical slumber. We tried everything. And… I…” You tilt your head, amused despite the fog still lifting from your mind. “You kissed me, didn’t you?” His shoulders stiffen. “It was necessary! The spell required a— I mean, they said— It was the only option remaining.” You smile, teasing. “So you do believe in fairy tales now.” Riddle looks deeply scandalized. “Absolutely not.” You raise an eyebrow. “You did just kiss a sleeping person in a magical garden.” He falters. “I— That is— The logic behind the curse’s mechanics was—” You touch his hand, gently. He stops. The garden is still, but warmer now. The scent of roses sharpens, blooming with life. Time has begun to move again. “I’m glad it was you,” you say quietly. Riddle looks at you, truly looks, and you see it—the worry that never left him, the guilt he buried beneath rules, the affection he dared not name. He bows his head, voice soft. “So am I.” The rules can wait. Logic can rest. For now, in this garden of suspended time, there is only the truth neither of you needs to speak aloud.

$ACE & DEUCE —

In hindsight, letting Ace and Deuce mess around with alchemy supplies was a bad idea. But you were tired, the classroom was warm, and they swore it was “just a simple energy potion.” Now you’re unconscious. Face-down on a beanbag in the Ramshackle common room, snoring lightly. Peaceful. Too peaceful. “…Okay,” Ace says, standing over your motionless body, “so this is maybe a little worse than last time.” “A little?!” Deuce hisses. “You said you read the label!” “I did! Mostly!” Deuce grabs the empty flask from the floor and squints at it. “This is in cursive.” “Cursive is readable!” “Not if it’s in ancient Briar Valley incantation script, Ace!” Ace groans, kneeling beside you. “Okay, okay, but this is fixable. They’re not dead.” You snore in response. “See?” he says, poking your cheek gently. “Just asleep.” “Magically asleep,” Deuce corrects, nervously pacing now. “You know what that means, right? Magical slumber? That’s classic fairytale territory. We need a cure.” Ace snaps his fingers. “Right! In those old books, the prince always wakes them up with a kiss.” Deuce blinks. “Seriously? That’s your plan?” Ace shrugs. “Hey, it works in the stories.” “That’s fiction, Ace!” “Yeah, but they also didn’t believe in magic carpets and ghost cats either, and here we are.” You twitch slightly. A flower petal, dislodged from your hair, floats gently to the floor. Deuce pales. “Okay. Okay, say you’re right. Let’s say—just theoretically—that’s the cure. Then… who’s gonna do it?” Ace turns to him, smirking. “You offering, Spade?” “What?! No! I mean—should I?” Ace raises an eyebrow. “You want to?” Deuce sputters. “I mean, I don’t not want to, but I don’t want to steal your chance—wait, do you want to?” Ace scratches the back of his head, suddenly less smug. “Well, I mean… we’re all kinda close, right? I wouldn’t mind…” They both glance at you. Still out cold. Deuce folds his arms. “Maybe we flip a coin.” “A coin? Really?” “Rock, paper, scissors?” Ace sighs. “This is so dumb.” They both look at you again. You do not react. “…They’re kinda cute like this,” Deuce says quietly. “Yeah,” Ace mutters. “Peaceful. Not yelling at us for once.” “Probably dreaming of doing it, though.” Ace snorts. “Yeah. With a megaphone.” Another pause. “…So,” Deuce says. “What if we both… y’know…” “What, kiss at the same time?” Ace blinks. “That’s weird, dude.” “Well, it’s weirder to argue while they’re still cursed!” “I’m just saying, we need a plan!” A long beat. “Okay,” Ace says finally. “Rock, paper, scissors. Best of one. Winner wakes ‘em up.” Deuce nods. They square up. “Rock… paper… scissors—shoot!” Deuce throws paper. Ace throws scissors. He freezes. “Oh.” “Guess you’re up,” Deuce says, sounding both nervous and vaguely disappointed. Ace glances at you. Then back at Deuce. “…Wanna… do it together?” Deuce stares. Ace scratches his cheek. “I mean, it’s not like they’re gonna remember who did it. Right? Just a little, tiny, barely-there kiss. Bam, they wake up, yell at us, we all move on.” Deuce blushes. “O-Okay. Just—just once. And quick!” They kneel beside you. Ace nudges your shoulder gently. “Okay, partner. Time to rise and shine…” You feel two nervous presences hovering very close. Something brushes your forehead. It’s warm. Awkward. A little clumsy. And then— A jolt. Like a thread snapping back into place. Your eyes flutter open. Two faces are hovering inches above yours. “…Why are you both red?” you croak. Deuce immediately falls backward. Ace tries to play it cool. “Ah! You’re awake! Just like I said would happen!” You sit up slowly. “What… happened?” “Great news,” Ace says, inching away, “you were totally fine! Just a mild alchemy nap!” “Magically-induced slumber,” Deuce corrects, still flat on the floor. “We may have kissed you.” Ace elbows him. “May have?! We definitely saved the day, thank you very much!” You stare at them. Slowly. “So you cursed me… then kissed me to fix it.” “To be fair,” Ace says brightly, “only one of those was on purpose.” You throw a pillow at him. He deserves it. Deuce hides behind a beanbag.

But even as you grumble, rubbing sleep from your eyes, you catch the worried glances they sneak you. The relief they aren’t even trying to hide. “…Thanks,” you mutter, finally. They blink. Ace grins. “Anytime, Sleeping Beauty.” You throw another pillow. They both deserve that one too.

$CATER DIAMOND —

In your defense, you didn’t mean to fall asleep mid-spell. In Cater’s defense, he didn’t mean for the spell to hit you. …Okay, maybe someone was a little too focused on getting the perfect angle for his Magicam story to notice the warning on the incantation scroll labeled “Do Not Cast Without Full Concentration or You Might Put Someone Into a Hundred-Year Nap.” But the lighting was really good. Now, you’re slumped on the dorm couch like a mannequin in a dream, arms folded, expression serene, completely and utterly out cold. And Cater is panicking. “Okay, okay, stay calm, me,” he mutters, pacing in frantic circles, ring-laden fingers tangled in his hair. “They’re just napping. Probably. Power nap vibes, right? Just a quick snooze! Haha! Please wake up...” You don’t move. You don’t even twitch. He kneels beside you and pokes your cheek gently. “Hey, sunshine… if you wake up now, I’ll delete that cursed pic I caught of you with whipped cream on your nose. Deal?” Silence. Cater freezes. “…You love bribery. That always works.” Nothing. “Oh no oh no oh no—okay, time for damage control.” He whips out his phone and furiously scrolls through a few bookmarked resources, muttering under his breath. “Sleep curse… Briar Valley enchantment, blah blah blah… Oh, here it is! Classic reversal spell: ‘Can only be undone by a kiss from someone with genuine feelings for the victim.’” He stares at the screen. Then stares at you. Then back at the screen. “…Well, that’s awkward.” He stands and paces again, eyes wild. “I mean… what even counts as genuine feelings?! Like, does respect count? Friendly affection? I like them, okay? They’re cute! But is that enough? I’m not, like, writing sonnets over here!” You, tragically, do not respond. He crouches beside you again, more carefully this time. Brushes a bit of lint from your collar. “…You know,” he murmurs, quieter now, “you’re usually the one talking sense into me. Or teasing me when I go overboard. Or calling me out when I’m two filters deep into a selfie spiral.” He chuckles, the sound soft and nervous. “Now you’re just… quiet.” His fingers hesitate near your hand, then wrap gently around it. “I don’t really do real feelings. Too messy, too clingy, too scary, right? But with you… it’s never felt like that. Just easy.” Your breathing is steady. Peaceful. Beautifully annoying in how unbothered it is. “I’m probably overthinking this. But,” he pauses, biting his lip, “if you were awake, you’d definitely be roasting me for dragging it out.” He leans forward slowly. “Okay,” he whispers. “One kiss. For magic. Not because I want to. Just for spell-breaking purposes. Purely practical.” He kisses you—soft and quick, more like a promise than a declaration. And just like that—your eyes flutter open. “…Did you just kiss me?” you croak, voice raspy with sleep. Cater jerks back so fast he nearly falls over the coffee table. “I—NO—I mean—YES—but also—HI! You’re awake!!” You blink, disoriented. “Why do I taste strawberry lip balm?” “No clue!” he says too quickly. “Definitely not mine!” You sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes. “What happened?” “Okay, so… there may have been a teeny, tiny spell accident. But good news!” He flashes jazz hands. “I fixed it!” “With your mouth?” “Do not phrase it like that.” You give him a long, flat look. “Did you read the instructions after the spell hit me?” He winces. “...Define ‘after.’” You groan and flop backward onto the couch again. He leans over you, grinning now that the panic has worn off. “Hey, silver lining—you got some beauty sleep, I got a whole fairytale moment, and nobody’s cursed anymore.” You narrow your eyes. “Cater.” “Yeah?” “Did you take a selfie while I was unconscious?” He grins wider. “Delete it.” “Rude! I looked amazing in that lighting!” “Delete it.” He sighs dramatically but holds his phone up in surrender. “Fine, fine. Guess I’ll just treasure the memory instead.” You throw a pillow at him. He dodges. But he’s still smiling. And for once, there’s no filter needed.

$TREY —

The kitchen is quiet now, save for the distant ticking of the Heartslabyul clock tower and the occasional hum of an enchanted tea kettle keeping itself warm. Trey hadn’t planned to spend his evening here, but after what happened—after you fell into that unnatural sleep—he couldn’t bear to sit still in his room. Not while you were still lying there in the lounge, unmoving, untouched by sound, sunlight, or reason. He’s not sure when it happened. One minute you were taste-testing an experimental tart recipe, and the next, your fingers loosened around the teacup, your body slumping gently, as though someone had simply whispered “rest” into your ear and you’d obeyed without resistance. The spell was instantaneous. Gentle. Silent. And wholly unplanned. Trey had called for help, of course. Checked the label on the spice blend he used, flipped through several enchanted cookbooks, even sent a long and slightly frantic message to Professor Crewel. It was Grim, of all people, who casually muttered the phrase *“like Sleeping Beauty or whatever”*—and the idea clicked into place with an uneasy sense of inevitability. A sleep spell tied to emotional resonance. Romantic in nature. Only reversible through a kiss. A sincere one. Trey hadn’t believed it at first. But then he looked at you again. The stillness of your expression. The fragile fall of your hair against the velvet cushion. The tiny furrow in your brow, like you were on the edge of waking. Waiting. He hadn’t intended to be the one. Surely someone else—someone you actually thought of that way—should do it. He wasn’t oblivious to your friendships, your laughter, the way you spoke with others. You were close. But not… not like that. Were you? He had never asked himself, never let himself dwell too long on the possibility. He was older. He was busy. He told himself you simply appreciated his baking, his steadiness, the small comforts he provided. That your fondness was the same as anyone’s—a warmth for someone reliable. Not a yearning. Not something *his* to answer. But when no one else stepped forward, when no one else *could*, he found himself leaning over you in that too-still room. He’d hesitated. He always did when it came to things that mattered. The kiss had been gentle. A moment of reverence more than romance. Just a press of hope. And then you’d stirred. You’d blinked, breathing slowly, asking in a hoarse voice what happened. He didn’t tell you everything. Not then. You were still waking. Still fragile from magic’s grip. But now—now he is here, in the kitchen, hands dusted with flour, staring down at another tart crust and wondering why the shape of your sleeping face keeps returning to his thoughts. The door creaks. He looks up. It’s you. Awake. Dressed in soft night clothes, hair slightly mussed, standing there with your arms crossed like you’re unsure if you’ve intruded. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asks. You nod. “Neither could I,” he admits. You step further inside. He gestures to the second stool. “I didn’t expect to see you on your feet so soon.” “Neither did I,” you reply with a faint smile. You watch him work for a moment, hands moving automatically as he presses a neat edge into the crust. “I remember it,” you say. “The kiss.” His hands pause. The kitchen stills. He doesn’t look up. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “It wasn’t meant to be mine.” “But it worked,” you say. He nods. “That doesn’t mean it should’ve.” You hesitate. Then—softly—you say, “You really didn’t know, did you?” He finally meets your gaze. “Know what?” “That I’ve liked you for a while now.” There’s no drama in your voice. No teasing. Just honesty, placed gently between the two of you like a dish left to cool. Trey sets the dough aside. Wipes his hands on a towel. “I didn’t,” he admits. “I never assumed. You… you’re kind to everyone.” His breath catches. He looks down for a moment, as if grounding himself, then up again. His expression is unreadable. Then, slowly, warm.

“I suppose I owe Grim a thank-you,” he murmurs. You arch a brow. “For cursing me?” He chuckles. “For waking me up, actually.” You smile. And this time, it’s you who closes the space between you—no magic required.

WHY ARE THERE NO REQQQQS

[mollygrass]

Preacher Girl part 2

Remmick x Female reader

Summary: Regretful and shameful for losing your virginity before marriage, you avoid Remmick for the whole week until guilt eventually pulls you back at his porch in hopes of his forgiveness.

Tags & Warnings: religious themes, female reader, ambiguous reader, blood drinking, turning into vampire, smut, power imbalance dynamics

A/N: proofread only once, so sorry for any errors I’m lazy

Word count: 4k

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺ ‧⁺ ‧

In his bedroom the curtains block out the bright sun rays, keeping the room dim. You lie next to Remmick, cuddled close and cozily warm. Slowly your eyelids flutter open. Each blink clears the blurry fog of slumber. On his side he lies comfortably, chin held up in one hand as the other caresses your smooth cheek.

“Mornin, darlin.”

In a flash, you spring to life, sitting up. The covers sink low to your bare waist. Your eyes fall down to your exposed chest. It all pieces together in your brain like a puzzle. Unholy, vomit inducing memories makes your heart thump as your tummy twists endlessly on loop.

“Oh…oh, heavens,” you murmur, feeling terribly sick.

A mistake. Last night. It was all a horrible regretful mistake you made. All you wanted was to talk about your feelings with him. But here you are, waking up nude next to Remmick.

“Aw, don’t tell me you’re regretting last night.”

Unease strings your breaths out in erratic rhythms and your hands quiver in your lap. You refuse to spare glance his way, eyes more interested in the dry walls.

“I need to go home.”

“You can’t go yet. I ain’t even offered you breakfast,” he insists.

The gloom cracking his voice nearly splits your heart in two. Any other day you would have loved to stay for breakfast. However, today isn’t just any other day.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go, Remmick. I’m sorry, really.”

Swiftly, you collect your discarded clothes on the floor and put them on, guilt mixed together with shame plaguing your brain. Then without uttering another word you dash out the bedroom with him hot on your trail like a lost puppy. Brown eyes round and wide, brimming with disbelief as he helplessly watches you leave.

How can someone as angelic as you treat him in such a way? Stiff, cold and distant, instead of the usual cheery, bubbly you. He wants to scream out to you. Yank you tightly into an eternal embrace, never letting you escape out the front door in the living room. He doesn’t. Limbs made of stone, adhered to the floor, Remmick is frozen in time as he watches you walk out the door. And when he does dare to bravely reach a hand out to you it’s too late.

You’re already long gone down the street at home.

…………………..

The days blur together in one messy chain of events, tangled all over the place. Each passing day you keep yourself occupied with mind numbing tasks. From helping out around town to volunteering at church. Yet it never fully eradicates that night tattooed in your brain. Like an angry, bitter spirit it haunts you endlessly.

The worst of it always seems to find you in your devoted worship to God. As you say prayers, his lewd voice whispers in your ears. While you sit in church listening to the pastor's graceful praises of the high lord, images of Remmick from that night dusts your skin in shameful goosebumps. In fact because of these unwanted reminders of your sinful acts you’re beginning to hate going to church or let alone anything that relates to God.

The day of the lord is nearly over as the sun drifts lower and lower from the sky. Your home is packed with your fellow believers from church. As promised, you serve Sunday supper for them.

Chatter and laughter fills your home as everyone stuffs their mouths at your dinner table. Golden crispy fried chicken, creamy buttery mashed potatoes, well seasoned string beans and your famous tooth-rotting dessert–peach cobbler. It brings everyone together in blissful joy and harmony to eat your delicious cooking.

“By now you would’ve been down the street with a wrapped plate for that odd fella. You finally realize how weird he is or something?” A man who always sits in the front row at church, snickers.

Out of everyone in town and especially at church, he never missed an opportunity to urge you to stay away from Remmick in all his “unholiness” as he always puts it. It always puzzles your brain why he does it, and usually shrugs it off like a harmless bug. Though, today his words hold power to them.

A woman sitting at his side jabs a sharp elbow in his gut. “Stop that, John!” She snaps in a hushed whisper, an annoyed glint in her eyes.

The mention of Remmick makes your heart thud wildly. He’s the last somebody you want to talk about with this crowd of folks. It’ll only make the overwhelming shame you feel eat you whole.

You ignore John, pretending to eat your food.

“Hmmp, I must be right. I’ve been watching you since Monday and you ain’t not once visited that man.” He points his silverware at you. “See, this is why you should’ve taken heed to my warnings before you found out the hard way, sweetheart.”

The dinner table falls silent. Their eyes all lock on you. Curious and nosy about if John’s words hold truth.

You clear your throat, lips pursed. “I’ve just been under the weather, so please, let’s talk about something else.”

The soft smile etched on your lips reassures everyone. Well, except for him–John.

He scoffs, shaking his head disapprovingly. The table’s lighthearted atmosphere returns and everyone goes back to chatting up storms. You don’t join in the conversations, mind battling off storms of shame. Instead you act as if you're listening and smile as John suspiciously eyes you from across the table.

After dinner, they all hang around for a bit longer until the moon glows in the sky. One after the other they leave until only one person remains–John. He halts on the porch, turning on his heels to face you in the doorframe. Eyes intense, brows knitting, lips in a fine line. He extends an arm, hand lightly gripping your shoulder.

“Let this be my last warning, girl. Stay far away from that damn man. There’s something evil and demonic surrounding him. A soul pure and sweet as yours is just perfect for somebody like him to destroy.” He adjusts the black hat on his head and turns for the steps. “May our heavenly father be with you, goodnight.”

You watch him get in an automobile as his grim final warning plummets your stomach. His car drives off into the distance, darkness of the night swallowing his car.

In bed you toss and turn relentlessly. John’s warning and Remmick haunt your mind. One minute your conscience agrees with the latter. This side of you urges you to stay away from your outcasted neighbor. On the flip side the other half shames you for how you have been treating Remmick lately. In all honesty it shocks you that you feel this way because throughout the week you never once felt bad for it until now. Maybe it’s from what John said at dinner or possibly the guilt is finally kicking in. Afterall, you don’t normally treat people with such cruelty.

Once more you wash away all the pesky thoughts, but they all come slamming back and this time heavier than a bag of bricks. It forces you to make up your mind and that’s just what you do.

Easily, you chose Remmick.

You hold a nice plate full of leftover food from dinner, neatly wrapped. Your shoes slap against the dry pavement. Humid summer wind blows your night gown in wild ripples. This time around you don’t pray to god for Remmick to answer the door. In fact you don’t pray at all. All you do is focus on getting to his home.

At his house, you knock on the door. A long minute passes and you knock again just to meet silence. All you hear is crickets singing in the nearby woods paired with whispers of the soft breeze. Sighing, you turn to leave his porch.

“What was I thinking? Of course he’s not going to let me in after I ignored him for a week,” you mumble, sulking.

As you begin dragging your feet to leave, a bitter taste filling your mouth, his door groans open.

“Come in,” is all he says.

He doesn’t say anything else as you slip past the doorframe. Rather loudly, the door slaps shut. It jolts your slouchy spine in a fine line and your aching heart racing. He must still be upset with you still. Understandable. You don’t knock him for his valid emotions. It’s the whole reason you're here in the first place. To make it up to him.

The wooden planks squeak as he walks deeper into the house, but the usual bright light never comes. It’s puzzling and odd. But still you don’t judge him. Well, that’s the case until a potent smell overwhelms your nostrils—wet pennies.

“Remmick, what’s that smell?”

You no longer hear the floor moaning under his feet.

“Do you really want to know?” His voice rumbles low, something wicked brews deep within it.

John’s goosebump inducing warning loudly echoes in your ears. You gulp, wondering if he’s right about your odd neighbor.

“Yes.”

The room lights up in a blink of an eye. You carefully eye the room and everything seems to be the same as the day you left. Untouched, neat and clean. It’s another story as your eyes land on Remmick. Eyes widening, the plate slips from your hands. It crashes on the floor with a soft thud. Cold food and the plates glass shards decorate the floor.

you finally look at him though, your eyes widen. The plate slips out of your hands. It crashes onto the floor with a soft thud. The cold food spills everywhere mixed with glass shards.

He stands there, frozen in his tracks. Blood, still wet and fresh, drenches his chin all the way down to his ivory collared shirt. An unreadable blank mask sits upon his bloody stained handsome face.

“Do you know why they fear me? Why everyone avoids me like I’m the devil’s spawn?”

Backing away from him, you trip over your own feet, landing on your butt. Dread sneaks up your spine as you crab walk away from him. Words bundle, sticky as glue in your mouth. You can’t speak as you take in the horrific view of Remmick.

He prowls closer, glowing eyes matching the color of blood staining his shirt. Crouching down at your level, his head tilts. As usual his eyes are round, but a sinister darkness storms within them. “You’re right, I’m sinful. Unholy. Everything the Bible curses. Yet you,” he pauses, gliding a clawed finger under your chin to look up at him. “Always seemed to flock to me, the so-called devil. How can that be when you’re pure and sweet?”

You remain silent. Limbs too scared to dare move an inch.

“Can’t answer that, can you, darlin?”

You frantically shake your head, heart drumming in your ears.

He inhales deeply, eyes sealed shut. Then exhales. Eyes open again. “Didn’t think so.”

Your trembling frame pulls his bloody lips in a gentle smile. Oh, how he hates what he’s planning to do to you next. But it must be done, otherwise you’ll never be his.

“Well, you wanted to know what that smell was, right?” He motions his long talon fingers at himself. A wide smile reveals his vile fangs.

The sight of his unholy, devilish teeth only chokes you tighter with fear. A breathless gasp chokes past your parted lips.

“One of your little friends from church.”

Your heart drops. “No, you didn’t!”

He laughs, shaking his head like a deranged asylum patient. He’s enjoying every second of this. “No, not the ones from your little dinner party, darlin.”

Shamefully, your chest deflates, relieved Yet guilt tears you to shreds at the fact that some innocent person you worshipped God with has been killed by Remmick’s hands.

“Unlike y’all, I don’t find regular ole food appetizing. I prefer something warm, liquidy and fresh, darlin.”

“W-What type of monster are you? You’re not Remmick…you can’t be! He would never do such a disgraceful, disgusting thing.” Tears stream down your cheeks. Your chest heaves heavily, burning hot.

“Ain’t you just the sweetest thing. Too naive for your own good, really. Don’t be deluded, I am indeed Remmick.”

“Lies, you wretched devil!”

Twisting on all fours, you spring to your feet and dash for the door. He idly catches your night gown, its fabric bundled in his fist and yanks you back. Hitting the floor knocks you breathless as pain blossoms in your backside. A quiet whimper slips past your lips.

“Uhn-Uhn, I ain’t finished with ya yet. You ain’t going nowhere, not till I’m done with you.”

The danger coating his voice raises a new concern in your limbs. You thrash on the floor as he drags you through the hall leading to his bedroom.

He sighs heavily, still not looking forward to what’s coming next. Remmick knows how you’ll react. How your screams and cries will slice his heart to pieces. The way you’ll squirm as pins you down in the mattress.

Just as his previous wife did many sunrises ago.

Together they lived happily under the moon together, traveling the world. Until she gruesomely died at the hands of vampire hunters without a drip of mercy. After her death he always figured he’d live out the rest of his days, miserable and bitter in the night. That’s what he thought until you.

Years stacked on top of years fleeing towns, Remmick finally settled down in a small quiet town deep in Mississippi. His days of hunting poor helpless souls for the gift to bring spirits forth from both the past and the future was over. All he craved was to live a quiet, mundane life as he mourned his wife.

He got his wish, but at what cost? Everyone in town damned him for his strangeness. They’re a religious town of people. So, when he never showed his face in church people began wondering things. Curiosity turned to sympathy. Then sympathy became hatred. At first folks thought he was a shy man, until they didn’t.

But one person out of the entire town did show him kindness. A warmth, Remmick never thought he’d feel again after his wife. Maybe it’s because you were new to the town or simply because it’s just who you are. Sweeter than honey, everyday bringing him gifts. Spending time with him. In the beginning he found you. Then suddenly he found himself smitten with you.

“Sorry. I really am, darlin. But after you left me. Abandoned me, I can’t risk having that again.”

He kicks the bedroom door shut, locking it with a key fished from his pocket. Then he lifts you with ease in his strong arms. Like a wild rabbit caught by the neck, your flailing persists till you're dropped on the bed. Its spring wires whine under your weight. Swiftly, you sit up. But Remmick is more swift, shoving you back on the mattress.

“Let me go! You vile demon,” you wail, voice cracking.

“Hush all that racket now.” He hovers you on the bed. With only one hand he effortlessly pins your wrists above your head.

“S-Somebody help! Help!” You scream.

Just as your lips part, ready to cry for help again, Remmick’s calloused palm gags you. It silences your every scream.

“Make me repeat myself again, you’ll be gagged and not with my hand.”

As his hand draws back you don’t dare utter a single word. All you do is quietly whine.

“Good girl,” he coos, red eyes softening. Though his iron grip never falters around your wrists. “Now this next part is gonna hurt. But don’t freight, I promise to take good care of you, darlin. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“Do what? What are you going to do to me?”

He huffs a raspy laugh. “Don’t worry, you’ll see soon enough.”

His head dips down to your face. Soft lips gently press against your forehead and slowly trail to your neck. Each kiss he litters, your body trembles. Even after experiencing sex, your reactions are still pure as if he never explored your body’s every crevice. So cute and sweet. Just for him only.

His tongue takes its time gliding across your neck’s feverish flesh. Its slick wetness drags unbalanced breaths from your chest.

Truly, you can’t fathom why he’s doing this to you. All the kindness you showed him when no one else in town did. The chance you alone offered when no one else did. How could he?

Your vision blurs as tears stain your flushed cheeks. “W-Why?”

He buries his face deep in your saliva coated neck. “Hmm?” He hums, drowned in total bliss, inhaling your mouth watering sweet scent.

“This…why are you doing this? I thought we were friends?” You sniffle, voice shattered. “Even if you are some kind of monster, Remmick, why?”

He keeps his face nuzzled in your neck’s warmth. “Because you’re mine. I want you to be mine. I can’t have you if you’re avoiding me, now can I? And once I’m done with you, you’ll be mine for eternity.”

“You can’t.”

“And why’s that?”

“My being, my soul, everything. It all belongs to the lord above and no one else.” You draw out a quivering breath, eyes glassy and stained red.

He laughs, the mockery in steals your breath away. It feels like a slap to your face, watching amusement shake his shoulders. Remmick’s chest deflates in satisfaction. Grinning ear to ear, his fangs show.

“And that’s why I’m doing this.”

“What—”

Deep in the side of your neck an unbearable pain erupts and burns. Your wailing voice fills the bedroom as your limbs freeze. Blood gushes in endless waves, soaking your gown’s bust area.

As expected, it shatters Remmick’s heart. Though, in the same breath euphoria fogs his mind. Filling his mouth, your blood is richly divine and deliciously sweet. He could feed on you all day and night, but that would be no fun and too cruel for his liking. He doesn’t want to hurt you or break you.

Freeing your flesh of his pointy fangs, he leans back, moaning. Mouth gapping. He devours the sight underneath him. Nonstop, tears stream and shock and pain shakes your frame. Remmick hates to admit it, but he’s savoring every minute of this. To you it’s probably mind spinning and heart wrenching. To him it's heaven on earth.

He releases your wrists. It’s no longer of use or necessary to do so.

“R-Remmick. I-It hurts…Blood…my neck won’t stop b-bleeding,” You manage to stammer through sobs.

“Shh, I know. It’ll stop eventually.”

He sits up on the bed and scoops your trembling frame into a gentle embrace, bridal style. Instinctively, lost to fear and dread, your arms hook around his neck.

“I’m scared. The blood won’t stop. I’m gonna die if it doesn’t, Remmick.” You hide your face in his chest. The stench of blood fills your nostrils. It rises bile up your dry throat.

His hand strokes your back gently as if dealing with fragile glass. “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

“G-God… please…help me,” you breathe one last time. Then in his warm embrace your body runs cold to the touch. Your shoulders slump as your head rolls to the side like an empty doll.

Remmick sighs, embracing your stiff head close to his chest. He didn’t want to do this, but you left him no choice. You could’ve lived as a regular human like everyone else did in town. To be kissed by the lovely sun as humans should. Too bad. Now, all you’ll ever know is darkness and the dim light of the moon.

He pecks your forehead and lightly rocks back and forth. Low and soft, he hums an Irish lullaby as he awaits your arrival.

For the rebirth of a graceful fallen angel.

…………………..

When you rise to life it’s a new day. High in the sky the sun blazes making the house sweat feverishly hot. Wrapped in his arms skin to skin, you stir awake. Your night gown sticks to your skin, doused in warm sweat. Sharp teeth in the top and bottom row of your mouth pokes your curious tongue.

Leisurely peeling away from his embrace in bed, you slip from the room out into the hall.

Home. You need to get home and fast before that vile devil awakens.

Though fog plagues your brain, memories of his cruelty still remain. Each step drains your energy and you find yourself grabbing the rough walls as if your life depends on it. More sweat glosses your skin as your body burns. You draw out ragged breaths, mind spinning like a twister. The closer you get to the door in the living room the hazier your vision becomes.

Then a stomach aching pain yanks you down on your knees. It doesn’t stop. Each stab in your gut comes in waves, sharp and acute. It’s as if your belly is devouring itself from the inside. No longer on your knees, you lay crumpled like paper, whimpering as the pain rips you apart.

“It hurts…”

“You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

Remmick’s voice echoes from the hallway, deep and raspy from slumber. He strolls into the living room and halts before you on the floor. Disappointment fills his eyes as he watches you, still standing tall.

“Stay away from me,” you snarl.

He only sighs. “I can’t do that.”

Easily he lifts you in his arms. Your limbs lie stiff, lacking energy to move.

“What have you done to me?”

Remmick’s feet halt, frozen. His brown round eyes meet yours. “Want me to show you?”

You don’t nod. Don’t speak. You only gaze back at him. He takes it for a yes and lazily heads for the door. The door cracks open with a soft click and a groan. He hisses as the blinding beams, stinging and smoking his skin. Remmick, he’s ancient as the sun and moon. Therefore, he can withstand the brutal heat of the sun’s light.

You on the other hand…

A gut wrenching gasp rips from your throat, skin searing into nasty open wounds. Your flesh boils and smokes as you thrash like a rabid animal. It shatters his heart seeing you cry and claw at him, desperate to hide away from the sun.

“You wanted the truth. Now you have it. Do you understand now?”

…………………..

As you two hide away from the sun’s dangerous rays, now both creatures of the dark, the entire day you avoid Remmick in every way you can. You don’t speak, touch, or even spare glances his way. Sure, the stomach aching hunger collapsing your stomach in on itself drives you mad. But the overwhelming new hatred thumping through your heart is stronger.

It breaks him. On the surface he comes off as if he’s given up on you, but underneath that long frown dragging his lips down, he knows something you don’t. Soon you’ll come around. If your brain and heart doesn’t, then surely your hollow stomach will.

So, he waits.

The days blur by and each day you never cave in to your stomach’s will nor to Remmick. Everyday he tempts you with what you eventually learned your mouth craves—blood. At first it churned your gut, but as time dragged on you began to not care. Though you never let him know.

Some days Remmick leaves the house, hunting for blood as you reside in his home. Those days are the worst for you because he comes back he’s dripping in blood. From his sharp claws, to his shirt and chin. The smell drives you insane as drool threads down your lips.

Tonight he’s gone again and you’re weaker than ever. By now even you expected Remmick to force blood down your throat. But he doesn’t. In fact he barely speaks to you anymore these past couple of days.

You lie on the couch in the living room. Its stale smell fills your senses as you toss and turn, mind haunted by mouth watering thoughts of blood. Time drags on endlessly until the front door whines open.

As usual, blood stains his shirt all the way up to the corners of his lips. The smell yanks you off the couch in one swift breath. You stand, slouched, eyes wide and frantic. Saliva drowns your mouth, seeping out the corners. Your heart thumps wildly. You need it. Want it.

Blood. It’s all your brain can fathom as he strolls across the room.

“Remmick,” you call out sharply, body trembling with an aching need.

He halts in his steps. “Yes, darlin?”

A raw whine claws its way through your throat. “Hungry…I’m hungry.”

The corners of his lips curl.

Finally.

He always knew you would come around.

………………

His blood, rich and ancient floods your tastebuds. It draws loud ragged breaths from your chest, euphoria swallowing you whole.

You don’t remember how this happened—body cradled in his lap, hips frantically rocking—needy for more. His white tailored shirt, bundled tightly in your fist as you hold on for dear life. Head buried deep in his neck, your fangs sink into his flesh. Greedily, you suck his blood as his hands guide your hips in a never ending bounce on his cock.

“That’s it, darlin. You drink as much as you want,” he breathes, chest rising and falling on loop.

You moan into his neck, eyes rolling, spine arching. Everything, it all turns you on. His blood filling your tummy, the fullness of his warm throbbing cock separating you tight walls. It’s blissful, liberating and illuminating.

You release his neck with a pop, blood decorates your lips and chin. Eyes, gazing up at nothing, breathy moans fall past your open plump lips.

“So good, Remmick. It feels good.”

“It feels good, darlin? Yeah?” He purrs, raspy and low through pants.

“Mhmm, so good.”

Your eyes glow crimson and he smiles at the sight. The irony of it all pulls a chuckle past his lips. You, the town’s sweet little preacher girl is now his. The thought swells his chest with pride.

Sounds of skin slapping, wet and sloppy fill the air, soaking your pussy wet more. Remmick’s hands drift to your asscheeks, gripping them. Starving for more of your delicious heat, he desperately bounces you on his dick. The pace, deadly quick.

“Fuck,” he grits, bitting his lips.

Your moans evolve into screams as he moves at an ungodly speed. The pleasure draws your head back, revealing your bare neck to him. Stars shiny and pretty envelope your visions as your eyes roll back.

“G-Gonna cum. I-I’m gonna cum,” you utter, spit trickling down your chin.

“Cum for me, baby.”

On his command, you cum and hard. Your body goes stiff, quivering as he keeps pumping his cock in. Like your nothing but an empty doll, he uses your tightening cunt. The endless pleasure he gives you pools tears in your eyes and your body crumples against him, shaking. Wrapping your weak arms around his neck, you hold on tightly.

“That’s it, baby. Being such a sweet girl for me. I love you so much. You’re all mine,” he huffs, voice breathy and hot.

Deep between your walls his cock throbs, releasing his creamy seed. He keeps rocking your hips against his, making sure to milk every last bit. Then when he’s done, he falls limp. His strong arms flex around your frame in a warm embrace.

The bedroom fills with your pants.

“I love you, darlin.”

Words you never would’ve uttered slip past your lips. “I love you too.”

“You belong to me, and I to you, understand?”

“Yes, Remmick,” you mutter, eyelids heavy.

“Together we’ll live together.”

“Okay.”

With him still deep inside your walls, you drift off to sleep. Soon after you he joins you, happily.

Now you’re his and he’s yours. No longer does your soul belong to God. You’re now free.

The End

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺ ‧⁺ ‧

A/N: Comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! I like to know what people think, hehe