#if you are going to send one it is much appreciated but i may be slower to get to it. love you all!!

[enhasntty]

Swish, I'm in Love - NRK

pairing: nishimura riki x f!reader summary: Riki Nishimura, a cocky basketball star, falls for the quiet girl who ignores his charm. Through hilarious missteps and awkward confessions, he fumbles his way into her heart. warnings: Kissing, Riki's friends make jokes that some people may be sensitive to, Riki tries flirting (a lot) but fails most of the time. genre: Fluff, Highschool romance wc: 19124 note: let me know if I missed any warnings likes and reblogs are very much appreciated

The Encounter

The hallway was its usual self-chaotic and buzzing with the chatter of students heading to their next class. You were walking at your usual pace, headphones in, deep in thought as you mentally prepared for the day ahead. The last thing you expected was to be caught in a collision of bodies in the middle of the hallway.

“Whoa!”

You bumped into someone, sending a few papers flying out of your bag. You quickly bent down to pick them up, not even bothering to glance up at the person you’d collided with. You were more focused on saving your notes than on apologizing for the accidental bump.

“Hey, you good?” came a familiar voice, filled with that cocky tone you knew all too well.

It was Riki, the basketball star everyone fawned over. His voice had this self-assuredness to it, and judging by the reactions of others whenever he walked down the hall, he had a reputation. He was the guy who always had a crowd of people around him, but you couldn’t care less.

You nodded, as you continued picking up the papers. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just, uh, careful next time.”

Riki blinked, clearly thrown off. Most people would’ve been all over him-squealing, apologizing, or even blushing. But you? You just acted like nothing happened. Like he wasn’t some godsend the school adored.

As you finished gathering your papers, you glanced up at him for the first time. And when you did, you gave him a small, casual smile-just enough to acknowledge him without making it anything special.

It wasn’t a flirtatious smile. It wasn’t anything overly friendly either. It was just… a smile. But to Riki, it was as if the world had slowed down. He felt his chest tighten and his mind race.

He swallowed.

“Whoa,” he muttered under his breath, staring at you. “Did she just… smile at me?”

His friends had started walking up behind him, no doubt noticing the intensity in his gaze. They all exchanged a few confused glances as they watched Riki stand there, practically frozen.

“Bro,” Jay called out, breaking his trance. “You alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Riki shook his head, trying to snap out of it, but the image of your smile was burned into his mind. He turned to his friends and said, “No, no. You don’t get it. That smile… it was different. It was the one. It���s-” He paused, trying to get his words together. “It’s like love at first sight.”

His friends stared at him, deadpan.

“What?” Jake asked, narrowing his eyes. “You’re serious? Dude, you’re delusional.”

“No, listen,” Riki continued, now pacing, clearly ignoring their sarcasm. “She didn’t act like every other girl. She didn’t freak out or go all blushy when she saw me. She didn’t act starstruck. She’s different. She gets me.”

Heeseung rubbed his temples. “Bro, you’re definitely on something. You ran into her, and she just gave you a smile. That’s not love at first sight, that’s just you being dramatic.”

Riki wasn’t hearing any of it. “No, you don’t understand. I’m telling you, I’m in love with her. And I’m gonna make her my queen.”

Jay snorted. “My queen? Are we in some medieval romance movie now? C’mon, man, be for real.”

But Riki was unwavering. “I’m serious. I’m going to make her fall for me. I just… I know it. She’s the one.”

Sunoo, leaning against the lockers, smirked. “Dude, you’re acting like you just found the Holy Grail or something. She Doesn't even know you.”

Riki waved off their teasing. “Doesn’t matter. I’m going to win her over. You’ll see.”

Meanwhile, you, in the background, had no clue what was happening. You picked up your bag, checked your papers, and continued walking, headphones back in your ears. It wasn’t that you didn’t notice Riki-he was hard to miss-but honestly? You couldn’t have cared less. To you, he was just another student who thought he was the main character of his own movie.

Riki, however, stood there, still in his thoughts. He felt like he’d just witnessed something cosmic. Your smile had done something to him-made him believe, for the first time, that maybe he wasn’t just the guy who could score three-pointers, but that he was capable of… love.

His friends followed him down the hall, still ribbing him for his newfound “obsession.”

“So, what’s the plan now?” Sunghoon asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Are you going to serenade her in the middle of the cafeteria or what?”

Riki smirked, clearly not phased. “You’ll see. I’m going big. She won’t know what hit her. I’m going full king of hearts mode.”

Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, good luck with that. You’re like the least subtle person I know.”

“Hey,” Riki said, “if I’m gonna go for it, I’m going all in. No half-measures.”

Jay sighed, shaking his head. “This is gonna be a disaster, isn’t it?”

“Probably,” Sunoo added, grinning. “But I’ll be here for the show.”

As Riki walked away, a small, satisfied grin spread across his face. He was sure of it. There was no way a girl like you would be able to resist him for long. After all, he had that charm. And if there was one thing Riki knew, it was how to get what he wanted.

Meanwhile, you made your way to your next class, completely unaware of Riki’s newfound mission-a mission he was about to turn into the most entertaining disaster of your high school life.

The Obsession Begins

At school, Riki spotted you by your locker again, headphones on as usual. He adjusted his backpack, ran a hand through his hair, and sauntered over like he hadn’t spent the entire morning rehearsing what to say.

“Hey.”

You didn’t look up.

Riki cleared his throat. “Hey,” he said louder, leaning against the lockers in what he hoped was a cool, casual way.

You finally glanced up, pulling one headphone out. “Do you need something?”

Riki’s brain short-circuited. He had spent hours planning a witty response, but all he managed to say was, “Nice book.”

You blinked, looking at the plain black cover of your notebook. “It’s a math textbook.”

“Oh, uh… yeah, I knew that,” Riki said quickly. “I love math. Big fan.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? What’s the quadratic formula?”

Riki froze.

“Exactly,” you said, putting your headphones back in.

From across the hallway, Heeseung and Jake were watching the exchange unfold.

“He’s crashing and burning,” Jake whispered.

“I give him points for effort,” Heeseung said, shaking his head.

Later that day, Riki’s friends gathered around him during lunch to debrief his latest failure.

“You said you were gonna play it cool,” Jungwon said, popping a grape into his mouth.

“I was playing it cool,” Riki insisted.

“You called her math book ‘nice,’” Sunghoon deadpanned.

Jake nearly spit out his drink. “You really told her you’re a math fan? Bro, even I know that’s a red flag.”

“It’s not a red flag!” Riki said defensively. “I just panicked.”

Sunoo smirked. “I think she has the mental upper hand, and you don’t know how to deal with it.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means you’re whipped, and she doesn’t even know it,” Heeseung said, patting him on the back.

Riki buried his face in his hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Oh, we’re way past embarrassing,” Sunoo said. “But don’t worry, we’re here to make sure you keep embarrassing yourself.”

“Supportive as ever,” Riki muttered.

Meanwhile, at your table, your friends were having a very different conversation.

“Riki was staring at you this morning,” Julie said, doodling on her notebook.

“I think he was trying to flirt,” Karina added, scrolling through her phone.

You frowned. “That’s not flirting.”

“Oh, sweetie, it was flirting,” Giselle said, pulling her headphones off. “Awful flirting, but flirting nonetheless.”

“I don’t get it,” you said, biting into your sandwich. “Why would he even bother?”

“Because he’s into you,” Julie said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Into me? He doesn’t even know me.”

“That’s probably why he’s into you,” Karina said with a grin. “You’re, like, the one person in this school who doesn’t worship the ground he walks on. He’s confused, and now he’s spiraling.”

Giselle snorted. “It’s giving ‘golden retriever chasing a cat.’”

“Exactly!” Julie said, clapping her hands. “And you’re the cat.”

“Great. I’m being compared to an animal,” you said dryly.

Karina leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “But admit it. It’s kinda fun watching him squirm, isn’t it?”

You smirked, not bothering to answer.

Riki wasn’t done for the day.

He had a plan-a bold, risky plan that could either win you over or completely backfire.

“Are you sure about this?” Heeseung asked as they stood outside the library.

“Yes,” Riki said firmly, holding up a small folded note. “This is foolproof.”

“Your definition of foolproof worries me,” Jungwon muttered.

“It’s just a note,” Riki said. “How hard can it be?”

The note in question was a piece of lined paper on which Riki had written a short (and in his opinion, very clever) message:

Hey. You dropped this: 🖤

– Riki

The plan was simple. He would walk past you, drop the note on your desk, and walk away like a cool, mysterious guy.

“You look like you’re delivering a ransom letter,” Sunoo said as they watched him sneak into the library.

“Shut up,” Riki hissed.

You were sitting at a table in the back of the library, headphones on, completely absorbed in your book. Riki took a deep breath, walked up to your table, and slid the note across to you.

Then, instead of walking away like he planned, he froze.

You looked up, noticing him standing there. Slowly, you picked up the note and read it.

“You dropped this?” you said, holding up the paper.

“Uh… yeah,” Riki said.

“I was sitting here the whole time.”

“Oh, uh, right. I meant to say I dropped it. And you… picked it up. Metaphorically.”

You squinted at him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great,” Riki said, his voice cracking.

You glanced at the note again. “What does this even mean?”

“It means, uh…” Riki paused, searching for an explanation. “It means… you’re cool. Like, you dropped your coolness, and I wanted to give it back to you.”

Your lips twitched as if you were trying not to laugh. “Right.”

“I’ll just… go now,” Riki said, turning on his heel and speed-walking out of the library.

“What happened?” Sunghoon asked when Riki returned to his friends.

“She didn’t laugh me out of the room, so… progress?” Riki said.

Sunoo shook his head. “You’re like a baby giraffe trying to learn how to walk.”

Back in the library, you were still holding the note, a small smile tugging at your lips. You didn’t know what Riki was trying to do, but you had to admit-it was kind of amusing.

And maybe, just maybe, a little endearing.

The Unintended Slip

Riki wasn’t one to give up easily. Sure, you’d shot him down twice now, but in his mind, that just meant he needed to step up his game. If you weren’t going to swoon over his basketball skills or mysterious notes, he’d have to get creative.

Enter: Operation Study Buddy.

Riki barged into the cafeteria, plopping down at the usual table where his friends were mid-meal. “Okay, guys, I need a new strategy.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “You’re talking like this is a business pitch.”

“It is a business pitch-except instead of closing a deal, I’m closing the distance to her heart,” Riki said, dramatically clutching his chest.

Jake nearly choked on his water. “Did you actually just say that?”

“Focus, guys,” Riki said, leaning forward. “She’s smart, right? Always reading or doing something intellectual. So, I’m gonna ask her to help me study for our next math quiz.”

“Bold move, considering you thought the quadratic formula was a type of shampoo,” Sunoo said, smirking.

“Hey, everyone struggles in their own way!” Riki shot back.

Heeseung leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “You think she’ll buy it?”

“She will,” Riki said confidently. Then, after a pause: “I just need to act dumb enough that she won’t suspect anything.”

Jungwon snorted. “That won’t be acting.”

By the time math class rolled around, Riki was ready. He spotted you sitting in your usual seat by the window, scribbling in your notebook. Taking a deep breath, he walked over and sat down in the desk next to yours.

You glanced up, eyebrows raised. “You’re sitting here now?”

“Yeah,” Riki said casually. “Thought I’d mix it up. Plus, I, uh… need your help.”

You tilted your head. “With?”

“Math,” he said, trying to look as clueless as possible. “You’re good at it, right?”

You stared at him for a moment, as if deciding whether he was serious. “What’s the problem?”

Riki pulled out his textbook, flipping to a random page. “This. I don’t get it.”

You leaned over to look, and Riki suddenly realized how close you were. He could smell the faint hint of your shampoo, something floral and light, and his brain momentarily short-circuited.

“This is literally multiplication,” you said, snapping him out of it.

“Yeah, uh, it’s been a while,” Riki said, scratching the back of his neck. “You know how it is-letters, numbers… it’s confusing.”

You gave him a look. “Riki, the problem is 8 x 9.”

“…Right. And the answer is…” He trailed off, waiting for you to fill in the blank.

You sighed. “72.”

“Of course! That’s what I was gonna say,” Riki said quickly.

You sat back, clearly unimpressed. “Do you actually need help, or is this some kind of elaborate excuse to sit here?”

Riki froze, caught red-handed. “I… uh… well…”

Before he could answer, the teacher walked in, saving him from further embarrassment.

Later that day, Riki regrouped with his friends.

“She saw right through me,” he groaned, slumping against his locker.

“To be fair, your acting skills are about as subtle as a neon sign,” Jake said.

“I’m starting to think she’s too smart for me,” Riki admitted.

Sunoo snickered. “Oh, we’ve all been thinking that.”

“Shut up,” Riki muttered.

“You just need to find something that’ll catch her off guard,” Jungwon suggested.

“Like what?”

Sunghoon smirked. “I don’t know, man. Maybe stop being so obvious. Or at least try to flirt without sounding like a confused toddler.”

“I’m great at flirting!” Riki protested.

“Are you, though?” Heeseung said, raising an eyebrow.

Riki rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. What do you suggest?”

“Say something bold. Catch her attention,” Jake said. “Like, I don’t know-‘Hey, do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?’”

“That’s cheesy as hell,” Sunoo said, wrinkling his nose.

“But it’s memorable,” Jake argued.

“I’m not using a pick-up line,” Riki said firmly.

“Then what?” Sunghoon asked.

“I’ll figure it out,” Riki said, though he wasn’t entirely sure he believed himself.

The next day, Riki decided to go for a different approach: casual conversation.

He spotted you in the library during lunch, headphones on as usual. Steeling himself, he walked over and sat across from you.

You looked up, surprised. “Do you not have friends to eat with?”

Riki grinned. “I do, but I figured I’d grace you with my company today.”

“How generous,” you said dryly.

“So, what are you working on?” he asked, leaning forward.

“An essay,” you said simply, turning back to your laptop.

“What’s it about?”

“Why sitting across from loud basketball players is a distraction,” you deadpanned.

Riki laughed, leaning back in his chair. “You’re funny, you know that?”

“I wasn’t joking,” you said, though there was a hint of amusement in your tone.

He rested his chin on his hand, studying you. “Do you ever smile?”

You looked up again, raising an eyebrow. “Do you ever stop talking?”

“Not really,” Riki admitted, grinning.

You sighed, shaking your head. “Why are you even here?”

“I like talking to you,” he said honestly.

You blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Why?”

“Because you’re different,” Riki said with a shrug. “You don’t laugh at my jokes or pretend to be impressed by everything I do. It’s refreshing.”

You stared at him for a moment, then went back to your essay. “Well, if you’re going to sit here, at least be quiet.”

“Can’t promise that,” Riki said, smirking.

When Riki returned to his friends later, he was in a suspiciously good mood.

“Did something happen?” Heeseung asked.

“Yeah,” Riki said, grinning. “I think I made progress.”

Sunoo rolled his eyes. “You mean you annoyed her until she gave up?”

“No, I had a real conversation with her,” Riki said.

“What’d you talk about?” Jake asked.

“Mostly how much I talk,” Riki admitted.

“So… nothing?” Sunghoon said.

“Hey, it’s progress,” Riki said defensively. “She didn’t tell me to leave.”

“That’s the bar now?” Sunoo said, smirking.

“Baby steps,” Riki said, leaning back with a satisfied smile.

Back at your table, your friends were equally curious.

“So, what’s the deal with Riki sitting with you in the library?” Karina asked, leaning across the table.

“Yeah, did he say something dumb again?” Giselle added.

You shrugged. “He said he likes talking to me.”

Julie gasped. “That’s so cute!”

“It’s weird,” you said, though your tone lacked conviction.

“It’s cute,” Julie insisted.

Karina smirked. “I think he’s growing on you.”

“He’s like a mosquito,” you muttered. “Annoying but persistent.”

Giselle snorted. “Yeah, but at least this mosquito is kind of hot.”

“Kind of?” Julie said, giggling. “He’s basically everyone’s crush.”

“Not mine,” you said quickly.

“Sure, sure,” Karina said, smirking. “Keep telling yourself that.”

The Art Of Embarrassment

Riki Nishimura was used to being good at things-basketball, charming people, and existing in general. But somehow, you had turned him into a walking disaster. It was like his brain short-circuited every time you were in a five-foot radius.

Today, he decided he would try something new. No elaborate plans. No fake study sessions. Just pure, unfiltered Riki.

Spoiler alert: it was a terrible idea.

It started in the cafeteria during lunch. You were sitting with your friends as usual, laughing at something Julie said. Riki watched from across the room, trying to figure out how to approach you.

“Dude, stop staring,” Jake said, nudging him.

“I’m not staring,” Riki said, not breaking eye contact.

“You’ve been staring so hard I’m surprised she hasn’t felt it and filed a restraining order,” Sunghoon said, biting into his sandwich.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” Riki said, ignoring them. “I’m gonna walk up to her table and just… talk. Like a normal person.”

Sunoo snorted. “You? A normal person? Bold of you to assume.”

Riki stood up, ignoring the chorus of snickers from his friends. He was determined.

But as he crossed the cafeteria, disaster struck.

He was walking past a table when someone stuck their leg out, probably as a joke. Riki didn’t see it until it was too late.

One moment, he was confidently striding toward you. The next, he was flat on the floor, his tray of food flying into the air in a perfect arc.

It all happened in slow motion. His spaghetti landed directly on his head, and his juice spilled all over his shirt. A chorus of gasps and laughter erupted around the cafeteria.

“Oh my God,” Sunoo whispered from their table, already pulling out his phone.

Riki scrambled to his feet, spaghetti dangling off his hair like some cursed garnish. He looked around, his face burning, only to see you staring at him with wide eyes.

For a moment, the entire cafeteria was silent. Then, someone from the back shouted, “Nice save, bro!” and the laughter resumed.

Riki grabbed a napkin, trying to salvage what was left of his dignity. “It’s fine! Totally fine!” he said, though his voice cracked halfway through.

You, to his utter shock, were trying not to laugh. You hid your smile behind your hand, but he caught it. And even though he was mortified, he felt a tiny spark of triumph.

“Legendary,” Heeseung said later, slapping Riki on the back as they regrouped in the locker room.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Riki muttered, throwing his juice-stained shirt into his locker.

“Bro, you’re trending on Snapchat,” Jake said, holding up his phone.

Riki groaned. “I hate all of you.”

“To be fair, it’s not our fault you fell like a cartoon character,” Sunoo said, smirking.

“Shut up,” Riki snapped. “At least she laughed.”

“She laughed at you,” Jungwon corrected.

“Still counts,” Riki said stubbornly.

Meanwhile, you and your friends were dissecting the incident at your table.

“I cannot believe that just happened,” Karina said, wiping tears from her eyes. “He looked like a human spaghetti plate.”

“Poor guy,” Julie said, though she was smiling too. “He’s never gonna live that down.”

Giselle smirked. “He’s got balls, though. I mean, he still tried to act cool after all that.”

You shook your head, still amused. “He’s persistent, I’ll give him that.”

Karina leaned closer, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “You’re kind of enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You shrugged, but you couldn’t deny it. Something about Riki’s clumsy attempts to get your attention was… endearing.

Later that day, Riki decided to try again. He wasn’t going to let one humiliating moment define him. He spotted you by your locker and mustered up all the courage he had left.

“Hey,” he said, leaning casually against the locker next to yours.

You looked up, immediately noticing the faint red stain on his shirt. “You missed a spot.”

Riki glanced down, groaning. “Oh, come on. I thought I got it all.”

You chuckled softly, and he felt his heart skip a beat.

“So, uh, about earlier…” he started, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What about it?” you asked, closing your locker.

“That wasn’t, like, my best moment,” he admitted.

“No kidding,” you said, smirking.

Riki grinned, appreciating your bluntness. “But, you know, I think it’s a sign.”

“A sign of what?”

“That we’re destined to be friends,” he said, winking.

You rolled your eyes. “Destined, huh? Is that what you’re calling it?”

“Absolutely,” Riki said, leaning closer. “You can’t fight fate, you know.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that your way of saying you’re going to keep bothering me?”

“Pretty much,” Riki admitted, grinning.

You shook your head, but you couldn’t hide the small smile on your lips. “Fine. But if you trip and fall again, I’m not helping you up.”

“Deal,” Riki said, his grin widening.

Back with his friends, Riki was practically glowing.

“She smiled at me,” he announced, plopping down at their table.

“Are we supposed to clap?” Sunoo said.

“Laugh all you want,” Riki said smugly. “I’m making progress.”

Jake shook his head. “At this rate, you’ll win her over by graduation.”

“That’s the plan,” Riki said, grabbing a fry from Sunghoon’s plate.

Sunghoon smacked his hand away. “If you touch my food again, fate won’t save you.”

“Noted,” Riki said, still smiling.

At your table, Karina was eyeing you suspiciously.

“You’re smiling again,” she said.

“No, I’m not,” you said quickly.

“You totally are,” Julie said. “What did Riki say to you?”

“Nothing important,” you said, though the small smile lingered.

Giselle smirked. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

Karina leaned closer. “Admit it. You think he’s cute.”

“Yeah, like a puppy that keeps running into walls,” you said, but your friends could tell you weren’t entirely joking.

And maybe, just maybe, neither were you.

The Failed Love Letter

Riki Nishimura had a reputation to maintain. Star basketball player, charmingly chaotic, and apparently, a complete disaster when it came to you. After the cafeteria spaghetti fiasco, he decided it was time to go old-school. No elaborate stunts or public humiliation. Just heartfelt honesty in the form of a love letter.

Unfortunately for Riki, heartfelt honesty wasn’t his strong suit.

“‘To the radiant moon of my dull, dark sky…’” Jay read aloud, squinting at the paper in his hand. He looked up, his face scrunched in disbelief. “Riki, what the hell is this?”

“It’s poetic!” Riki said defensively, snatching the paper back.

“It’s something, all right,” Jake chimed in, holding back a laugh. “Are you writing a love letter or auditioning for a Shakespearean play?”

Riki groaned, flopping onto Jay’s bed. “I don’t know, okay? I’m trying to be romantic.”

Jay snorted. “There’s a difference between romantic and… whatever this is.”

“‘The thought of you haunts my every waking moment,’” Jake read over Jay’s shoulder, cackling. “Bro, she’s gonna think you’re a serial killer.”

Riki sat up, glaring at them. “I thought you guys were supposed to be helping me!”

“We are,” Jay said, crossing his arms. “By stopping you from embarrassing yourself even more.”

Jake nodded. “Yeah, no offense, but if you give her this, she’s gonna laugh. Like, a lot.”

Riki groaned again, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. What do you suggest?”

Jay grabbed a pen, sitting down next to him. “For starters, tone it down. You’re not Edward Cullen.”

Jake smirked. “Unless you’re planning to sparkle in the sunlight.”

“Can we focus?” Riki snapped, snatching the pen.

Jay and Jake leaned in, watching as Riki rewrote the letter.

“Okay, how about this: ‘Hey, I just wanted to say you’re really cool, and I like hanging out with you.’”

Jake blinked. “That’s it? That’s boring.”

“Yeah, where’s the charm?” Jay added.

Riki groaned for the third time that afternoon. “I can’t win with you guys!”

The final version of the letter ended up being a mix of dramatic flair and casual sincerity. Riki, satisfied with his work, slipped it into your locker the next morning before anyone could talk him out of it.

Later that day, you found the letter while grabbing your books. The envelope was plain, but your name was written on it in slightly messy handwriting. Curious, you opened it.

“‘To the brightest star in my universe,’” you read quietly to yourself, already stifling a laugh. “‘Every time I see you, my heart does this weird thing-like it’s trying to breakdance but forgot how.’”

You couldn’t help it; a small giggle escaped.

Your friends noticed immediately.

“What’s so funny?” Karina asked, leaning over to look.

You quickly folded the letter and slipped it into your bag. “Nothing.”

“Oh, come on,” Giselle said, smirking. “That smile says it’s definitely something.”

“Who’s it from?” Julie asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“No one important,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant.

But your friends weren’t buying it.

Across the hallway, Riki was watching from a safe distance. He could see you smiling, and though he couldn’t hear what you were saying, he took it as a good sign.

“Dude, she’s laughing,” Sunghoon said, nudging him.

“Yeah, but not in a mean way,” Jake added. “She looks… happy?”

“I told you it was a good idea,” Riki said, grinning.

“Sure, but let’s not forget the part where you almost called her the ‘ethereal goddess of your dreams,’” Jay said, rolling his eyes.

“Details,” Riki said, waving him off.

The next day, Riki was determined to act casual. You hadn’t mentioned the letter, but you didn’t seem mad or weirded out, so he considered that a win.

But of course, his streak of bad luck continued.

During gym class, you and your friends were sitting on the bleachers, watching as the boys played basketball. Riki, eager to impress, decided to show off a little.

Big mistake.

He went for a fancy dunk, leaping high into the air. For a moment, it looked perfect-until his foot slipped on the landing.

He crashed to the floor, arms and legs flailing like a cartoon character. The ball bounced off his head with a loud thunk, and the entire gym erupted into laughter.

From the bleachers, you couldn’t help but laugh too. It was just so… Riki.

He sat up, rubbing his head, and spotted you laughing. Despite the pain and embarrassment, he couldn’t help but smile.

“Smooth,” Sunoo said as he helped Riki up. “Really smooth.”

“Shut up,” Riki muttered, though his cheeks were burning.

Later, you ran into Riki in the hallway.

“Nice fall,” you said, smirking.

Riki groaned. “You saw that, huh?”

“Hard to miss,” you said, your smirk widening. “But it was entertaining.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Glad I could amuse you.”

You hesitated for a moment, then reached into your bag and pulled out the letter. “By the way, this was… sweet. A little dramatic, but sweet.”

Riki’s eyes widened. “You kept it?”

“Yeah,” you said, shrugging. “It made me laugh. In a good way.”

Riki grinned, his confidence returning. “So, does that mean you like me now?”

You rolled your eyes, though you were smiling. “Don’t push your luck, spaghetti boy.”

As you walked away, Riki couldn’t stop smiling.

The Secret Love Potion

After Riki’s very public fall, his confidence had taken a slight hit, but he wasn’t about to let it stop him. He had come too far-he’d written a love letter (okay, a little over the top), he’d made you laugh (even if it was at his expense), and he’d managed to get a bit of a smile out of you. Progress was being made.

But how could he keep it going? He needed a new plan.

Riki sat at the lunch table with his usual crew: Heeseung, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jake, and, of course, Jay, who was doing his best to ignore the absurdity of the situation.

“So, what’s the move today, Riki?” Heeseung asked, tapping his chopsticks against the table.

Riki sighed dramatically. “I need to do something big. Something that’ll make her see that I’m… I’m different.”

“You mean not a disaster?” Jake said, smirking.

Riki shot him a look. “Shut up. No. Something romantic. Something that’ll sweep her off her feet.”

“Like a flash mob?” Sunghoon asked, grinning.

“Not that romantic,” Riki said, shaking his head.

Jay raised an eyebrow. “Well, you did write her a letter. You could always, you know, try talking to her next.”

“Yeah, that worked out so well last time,” Riki muttered, thinking about the spaghetti incident.

“Okay, listen.” Sunoo leaned forward, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “I heard from my sister that girls love stuff like flowers and chocolates. So, why not do that?”

Riki looked at him like he’d just suggested he go skydiving without a parachute. “Flowers and chocolates? You’re joking, right?”

“Not at all, bro,” Sunoo said, shaking his head. “It’s classic. You can’t go wrong with that.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Jake said, holding up his hands. “We’re in 2025, not the 1950s.”

“I’m not even trying to say I’m in love with her yet. I’m just trying to get her attention without looking like a complete idiot,” Riki said.

“You sure about that?” Sunghoon asked. “Because you’ve pretty much been a walking disaster in front of her so far.”

Riki gave him a look, but Sunghoon was right. He was already overthinking it. He needed something to make you notice him, something that would stand out, something unique.

And then it hit him.

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait,” Riki said, his eyes lighting up. “What if I make a potion?”

Jay stared at him. “A potion? You mean, like, a love potion?”

“Exactly!” Riki said, his face lighting up. “It’s genius! I’ll make this super mysterious drink with all kinds of weird ingredients, like herbs and… I don’t know, whatever sounds romantic. I’ll hand it to her, and she’ll be so intrigued by it, she’ll have to notice me!”

Sunghoon blinked. “Riki, that’s… the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

But the more Riki thought about it, the more it made sense. This wasn’t just any random bottle of juice-it was going to be a potion. A mysterious potion that no one had ever seen before. He’d make it sound like he was a mad scientist in the kitchen.

“Dude, you’re really setting yourself up for failure,” Jake said, shaking his head.

Riki grinned. “Exactly. I’m going big or going home. It’s all part of the plan. She’ll be so fascinated by me that she’ll have no choice but to fall in love.”

“Is that how this works?” Jay asked, eyeing him skeptically.

“Of course it is!” Riki said, standing up with newfound determination. “I’m going to make the most epic, mysterious potion ever.”

And so, with that, Riki set off on his journey to create what he now believed would be the ultimate love potion.

The next day, Riki arrived at school with a bag full of strange, unidentifiable ingredients. His friends watched as he walked past them, a look of excitement on his face.

“What is that?” Heeseung asked, narrowing his eyes.

Riki grinned. “I’m going to make the perfect potion. This is gonna be legendary.”

“Okay, but you’re not trying to drug her, right?” Jake asked, his voice full of concern.

“What? No! No, it’s just gonna be a weird drink that she won’t be able to resist.”

“You’re really digging yourself into a hole here, dude,” Sunghoon muttered.

During lunch, Riki found you at your usual spot. You were sitting with Karina, Giselle, and Julie, talking about something you all found funny.

Riki tried to act casual as he walked over, though the bag in his hand gave him away.

“Hey,” he said, his voice unnervingly loud. “I’ve got something for you.”

You turned, raising an eyebrow. “What’s this?”

“It’s a potion,” Riki said, grinning like a mad scientist. “A love potion. Totally mysterious. You’ll love it.”

You looked at the bag. “A potion? Really?”

“Yeah!” Riki said, pulling out a small glass bottle that looked like it belonged in a mad scientist’s lab. Inside was a bubbling purple liquid, with what appeared to be floating herbs and glitter.

You tried to hide your amusement. “Uh, okay… What’s it supposed to do?”

“It’ll make you… um… fall in love with me,” Riki said, with far too much enthusiasm.

Your eyes widened. “You want me to drink that?”

“Yeah! It’s totally safe,” he said, though it was clear he had no idea what he’d actually made.

You couldn’t help it. You burst out laughing. “Riki, this is insane.”

But you took the bottle from him anyway. “I’ll take it,” you said with a smile, “but don’t expect me to fall in love with you because of this.”

Riki beamed. “It’s worth a shot, right?”

As you walked away, you tried to hold in your giggles. The potion was definitely the most ridiculous thing Riki had ever done, but it was kind of cute. You could tell he’d put a lot of effort into it-even if it was a total failure.

That afternoon, you showed your friends the bottle, and they all had a good laugh at Riki’s expense.

“I swear, he’s got to be delusional,” Karina said, eyeing the potion. “But, like, in the best way.”

“You should definitely keep it as a souvenir,” Giselle said, raising an eyebrow. “It’ll be hilarious to bring up later.”

Julie smirked. “Maybe you can actually drink it and see what happens.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling.

Meanwhile, Riki sat with his friends, eagerly waiting for any word from you.

“So, uh, did she drink it?” Jake asked.

“No,” Riki said, deflating a little. “But she took it, so that’s something.”

“You’ve got a better chance with her if you just, you know, talk to her like a normal human being,” Heeseung said.

But Riki wasn’t listening. As far as he was concerned, this potion was his ticket to success.

As the day ended, you threw the potion in your bag, secretly touched by Riki’s effort, but fully aware of how ridiculous the whole thing was.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Maybe Riki was a bit of a disaster, but he was also kind of charming in his own, chaotic way.

The Unintentional Date

Riki’s love potion-while the perfect display of his desperation-wasn’t exactly the magical breakthrough he had hoped for. But that didn’t deter him. If anything, he was more determined to win you over, now that he’d officially made a fool of himself.

The next morning, as Riki was heading to class, he saw you at your locker. You were looking through your bag, completely unaware of the impending chaos that was about to unfold.

Riki decided to make his move.

“Hey, you!” he called out, giving his signature awkward-but-trying-to-be-cool grin.

You turned, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, hey, Riki. What’s up?”

“Uh, not much. Just-” He paused for dramatic effect, trying to look calm, but failing miserably. “Just wanted to see how the potion worked for you last night.”

You blinked at him for a moment. “The potion?”

He nodded, his expression too serious for the situation. “Yeah, you know, the love potion.”

You snorted. “Oh right, the one that looks like it came straight out of a mad scientist’s basement?”

Riki winced. “It’s… it’s a special recipe.”

“Oh, I can tell,” you said, trying not to laugh. “I haven’t drunk it yet, but I did keep it as a reminder of how creative you are.”

He smiled, clearly proud of himself. “I knew you’d keep it. You know, it’s a one-of-a-kind potion. It’s got… uh… special ingredients.”

“What kind of ingredients?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Riki looked around nervously, as if trying to remember what he’d actually put in the potion. “Uh, a secret blend of… um… lavender, honey, and… a dash of, like… magic?”

“Magic,” you repeated, deadpan. “That’s totally reassuring.”

“I mean, yeah. Magic is always part of the equation, right?” Riki shrugged, clearly grasping at straws.

Before you could respond, Heeseung appeared behind him. “Riki, you’ve got a huge glob of chocolate syrup on your shirt,” he said, pointing.

Riki glanced down at his shirt in panic. There, right in the center of his chest, was a sticky blotch of chocolate sauce.

“What?!” he exclaimed. “Where did that-”

You couldn’t hold it in any longer. You burst out laughing, and Heeseung did the same.

“Nice,” you said, still laughing. “Looks like you’re really sweeping me off my feet with that shirt.”

Riki groaned, swiping at the mess with his sleeve, only making it worse.

“Did you steal the chocolate syrup from the cafeteria again?” Heeseung asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Shut up, it’s… I’m not stealing!” Riki said, looking utterly defeated.

As if on cue, Sunghoon walked by, shaking his head. “You’re a walking disaster, man.”

“Thanks for the support, guys,” Riki muttered, still trying to wipe the chocolate off.

“Honestly,” you said, trying to stifle your laughter, “I think I��ll just drink the potion now. Maybe it’ll fix your whole ‘hot mess’ thing.”

Riki stared at you in horror. “Wait, what?!”

You flashed him a mischievous grin. “Just kidding. But you do look like you need some kind of miracle.”

Riki looked like he might die on the spot, but somehow, he managed to give you a crooked grin. “Yeah, guess I do.”

Later that day, Riki, still trying to salvage what little dignity he had left, decided to take a different approach. He’d seen the school was having a “Karaoke Night” for the senior class, and he figured that if he could sing something ridiculous in front of everyone-especially you-it would definitely get your attention.

The problem? Riki couldn’t sing. Not even a little bit.

But did that stop him? Absolutely not.

That afternoon, he spent hours researching “romantic songs” on his phone, hoping to pick the one that would absolutely sweep you off your feet. His friend group, of course, was less than supportive.

“You’re really doing this?” Sunghoon asked, facepalming. “Riki, you’re tone-deaf.”

“I’m not tone-deaf,” Riki argued, crossing his arms. “I have an amazing voice. Trust me.”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been singing in the shower for years, and we can still hear you across the hall.”

“Yeah, bro. You sound like a cat being strangled,” Sunghoon added.

“Thanks for the confidence boost, guys,” Riki muttered. “But I’m doing this. For her.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Heeseung said, tapping him on the shoulder. “You might need a backup plan… like, a good excuse for why you completely butcher the song.”

Riki grinned. “I’m gonna do this. You’ll see.”

That evening, Karaoke Night arrived, and the gymnasium was buzzing with energy. The lights were dimmed, the stage was set up, and students were taking turns picking songs from the cheesy setlist.

Riki, with a mix of nervousness and determination, stepped up to the mic, the crowd falling silent as he grabbed it with shaky hands. You were sitting with your friends near the back, watching with amused expressions.

“What’s he doing?” Karina asked, eyebrow raised.

“I think he’s about to make a fool of himself,” Giselle said, already bracing for impact.

Julie grinned. “I can’t wait for this.”

Riki adjusted the mic, then announced, “I’m gonna sing ‘I Will Always Love You’ by Whitney Houston.”

The crowd gasped, and you did your best to hold in your laughter.

You could already imagine how this was going to go.

The music started, and Riki-bless his heart-sang the first line with full, unfiltered enthusiasm.

But instead of hitting any of the notes correctly, he sounded like a dying walrus. His voice cracked at all the wrong times, and he missed the high notes entirely. The audience went silent for a moment before everyone burst out laughing.

From the back, you could hear Heeseung shout, “God, Riki, you’ve ruined this song for generations!”

Riki, completely undeterred, kept going. His confidence was through the roof-despite how much of a disaster it was turning into.

“Riki, please,” Sunghoon shouted from the back, “we’re begging you to stop!”

But Riki was in it now. He was not backing down. He finished the song with as much gusto as he could muster, ending with an off-key, completely butchered high note.

The gym erupted into applause-but not for the quality of the performance.

Riki walked off the stage, out of breath, and completely humiliated. He gave a half-hearted wave to the crowd and sat back down at his table.

“I’m going to die,” he muttered, burying his face in his hands.

You couldn’t help yourself. You were laughing so hard that you could barely breathe.

“Nice job, Riki,” you called out, still laughing. “You really… um, sang your heart out.”

He looked up, red-faced and defeated. “Please, just tell me you didn’t think that was horrible.”

You wiped away tears of laughter and gave him a soft smile. “Okay, I’ll be honest. It was awful. But, like, in the best way possible.”

Riki blinked. “What?”

“You know,” you said, shrugging, “it was so bad that it was actually kind of… impressive. Like a car crash you can’t look away from.”

He groaned, slumping in his seat. “I’m never doing that again.”

But you noticed the faintest smile on his face, and for some reason, it made everything feel a little less embarrassing. Maybe there was hope for Riki after all.

Riki's Poetic Disaster

The classroom buzzed with the sound of chairs scraping the floor and low murmurs as your small poetry club prepared for its weekly meeting. You sat in your usual spot, notebook open, fingers lightly tapping your pen as you waited for your turn to present. It was your favorite place, a peaceful escape from the chaos of school.

That peace, however, was shattered when the classroom door burst open.

Riki swaggered in like he was about to perform at a sold-out stadium, not join a poetry club meeting. His varsity jacket was slung over his shoulder, and he looked around the room with a grin that screamed I’m about to change your life.

Giselle leaned over to whisper in your ear, “Oh no. He’s Shakespeare-ing his way into embarrassment, I can feel it.”

You sighed, bracing yourself. “What is he doing here?”

Riki spotted you and immediately lit up like a neon sign. “Yo!” he called, waving with both hands as though you were on opposite ends of a football field. “This the poetry thing?”

The entire room turned to look at him, a mix of amusement and disbelief on their faces. After all, Riki had once loudly declared in English class that “books are just fancy napkins with words” and “poetry is for sad people with nothing better to do.”

“Yep, he’s officially lost it,” Karina muttered from the other side of the room.

Riki walked up to the front of the room, all confident. “Hey, uh, I’m Riki. Some of you might know me as the star of our basketball team-no autographs, please. But today, I’m here to…uh, you know, embrace art and stuff.”

You blinked. “Why are you here?”

He winked. “I’m here to support you, obviously. And, uh, to share my gift with the world.”

“Your…gift?”

“Yeah,” Riki said, completely serious. “Poetry. I wrote a poem. It’s deep. You’re gonna love it.”

The club stared at him, stunned. Finally, the president of the club, a quiet senior named Mina, gestured for him to go ahead. “Well…we’d love to hear it.”

Riki cleared his throat, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. He unfolded it with the precision of someone unveiling the Mona Lisa.

“This,” he began, “is called ‘Love is Like Basketball.’”

Giselle buried her face in her hands. Karina groaned audibly.

Riki began, his voice overly dramatic and far too loud for the small room:

“Love is like basketball.

You gotta dribble through life,

but sometimes…

the ball hits you in the face.

And that ball?

That’s you.

You’re the ball.

And I’m…the player.”

Sunoo, who had somehow slipped into the back of the room to spectate, muttered, “This is physically painful.”

Riki continued, oblivious:

“I shoot my shot,

and sometimes I miss.

But then I rebound,

because love is all about…

rebounds.

Also, you’re hot like the sun,

but cool like water.

And that’s why I like you.

End poem.”

The room was dead silent. Somewhere outside, a bird squawked, as if protesting the tragedy that had just unfolded.

Giselle whispered, “I’m in physical pain. I think I’m getting secondhand embarrassment hives.”

Riki, completely unaware, smiled proudly and folded his paper. “What’d you think?” he asked, looking directly at you.

You blinked at him, unsure whether to laugh, cry, or stage an intervention. “Uh…it’s…unique?”

“Right?” He grinned wider. “I’m basically the next Shakespeare.”

“That was worse than the time you tried to rap during gym class,” Karina said, shaking her head.

“Hey, that rap had bars,” Riki shot back.

Giselle smirked. “Bars? That poem had potholes.”

Riki ignored her, his confidence unwavering. “I put my heart into that, okay? And I wrote it for you.” He pointed at you, completely serious. “So…what do you think? Be honest.”

You couldn’t help it-you burst out laughing. You laughed so hard your stomach hurt, and tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

Riki’s grin faltered. “Wait, are you laughing at me?”

“Riki,” you said, finally catching your breath, “that was the worst poem I’ve ever heard. But…thank you.”

He perked up. “Wait, so you liked it?”

“No,” you said, still laughing. “But I appreciate the effort.”

Sunoo leaned against the doorframe, shaking his head. “Man, she just told you your love poem is trash, and you’re still smiling. That’s commitment.”

Riki shrugged, his grin returning. “Hey, at least she laughed. That’s a win in my book.”

“You don’t even like books,” Giselle reminded him.

“Shut up, Giselle.”

As the meeting wrapped up, you couldn’t stop smiling. Riki’s poem might’ve been terrible, but his effort wasn’t lost on you.

Maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than his over-the-top confidence. And judging by the way he looked at you, he wasn’t planning on giving up anytime soon.

The Unfortunate Art Class

It was one of those days where everything that could possibly go wrong would go wrong, and for Riki, it was a day where his attempts to woo you went from embarrassing to downright disastrous. It all started in art class.

Riki had been practicing his sketching-well, more like pretending to practice-while thinking about how he could impress you next. He’d tried singing (and failed), created a disastrous potion (also a failure), and now, he figured, it was time to move on to something different: art.

“Yeah, I’m a man of many talents,” Riki muttered to himself, casually flicking his pencil across his notebook. He’d signed up for art class, mostly because it was a “chill” subject and because he knew you would be in there. You were always so effortlessly cool while sketching, and Riki thought that maybe, just maybe, if he could draw something beautiful, you’d finally take him seriously.

It was a flawless plan, in theory.

Except for the fact that he was absolutely terrible at drawing.

As you walked into the room, Riki immediately straightened up, trying to act casual while pretending to concentrate on the absolute mess of a sketch he was working on. It looked like someone had thrown a bunch of spaghetti at the paper and then tried to pass it off as “modern art.”

You glanced over at him. “What’s that supposed to be, Riki?”

Riki froze, his pencil hovering over the page. He glanced at his work and then back at you, trying to cover up the chaos he’d created. “Uh, it’s… it’s a modern interpretation of… love?”

You squinted at the scribbles, unsure whether he was being serious or if this was another one of his random, ridiculous attempts to impress you. “A modern interpretation of love?” you asked, not hiding your amusement. “It looks like a blob of mashed potatoes got into a fight with a pencil.”

“Excuse you,” Riki said, puffing out his chest. “It’s abstract.”

“Oh, I see,” you said, nodding, “I didn’t realize ‘abstract’ meant ‘I-don’t-know-how-to-draw-a-stick-figure’.”

Riki groaned, his face turning bright red. “It’s art, okay? You wouldn’t get it.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to get it,” you said with a teasing smile. “I’ve got better things to do than trying to decode your spaghetti disaster.”

Riki sat back in his seat, sulking, and that’s when his art teacher, Mr. Han, walked up to inspect his work.

“Ah, Riki,” Mr. Han said, adjusting his glasses and peering at the page. “Interesting… piece.”

“Thanks, Mr. Han,” Riki said, looking proud for a second, before Mr. Han continued.

“It’s… very… unique.”

Riki’s smile faltered. “Is that a good thing?”

“Well,” Mr. Han said slowly, “the concept is ambitious, but I think you might want to, you know, work on making things… recognizable?”

Riki’s face fell. “Okay, okay, but it’s modern, Mr. Han. It’s supposed to be about the chaos of love.”

Mr. Han raised an eyebrow. “Sure, but love’s supposed to be nice, not this. I think you’re looking for a different kind of love.”

And with that, he walked off, leaving Riki to stew in his misery.

“See? Told you,” you said from across the room, still chuckling under your breath.

“Shut up,” Riki muttered, throwing his pencil down in frustration. “It’s harder than it looks, okay?”

You shrugged, grinning. “Well, if this is your idea of love, I think I’d rather be single.”

Riki slumped in his chair. “Yeah, well, I’m sure you’d love that.”

As the class went on, Riki couldn’t help but sneak glances at you while pretending to concentrate on his new abstract “art.” He kept thinking of ways to get you to notice him, to actually like him. The potion was a bust, the karaoke disaster still haunted him, and his art was more of a crime scene than anything else.

But then, like a bolt of inspiration, it hit him. He didn’t need to be good at drawing. He didn’t even need to be good at singing. What if he just pretended to be good at something else? Something you liked?

That’s when he saw it-on the shelf near the back of the room. The most perfect thing he’d ever laid eyes on: the class’s art supplies. Specifically, a pack of colored markers. He quickly grabbed one, then another, and another, all while ignoring Mr. Han’s suspicious gaze.

“I’m going to do it,” he whispered to himself, suddenly determined. “I’m going to draw her the most beautiful picture she’s ever seen.”

Thirty minutes later, Riki proudly presented his latest masterpiece to you. He walked over to your desk, a big grin on his face. “Ta-da!”

You looked at the picture, then looked back up at him, and tried to hide your reaction. Riki had drawn what could only be described as… a stick figure of you, holding a giant heart with “I <3 U” scrawled inside it. Around you, Riki had drawn himself, in what he considered a romantic pose, though it mostly looked like he was having a seizure.

You blinked, trying to process what you were looking at. “Riki…”

He watched eagerly, his eyes wide. “What do you think? I’m going to call it ‘Love in Motion’.”

Your eyes flicked from the picture to Riki’s hopeful expression. “It’s… well, it’s certainly… something.”

Riki’s smile faltered. “Something good?”

“No, definitely something,” you said, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “It’s the most abstract thing I’ve ever seen. I didn’t realize you were such an avant-garde artist.”

Riki let out a dramatic sigh. “Great. You don’t get it again.”

“But hey, at least you didn’t include mashed potatoes this time,” you said, still chuckling under your breath.

“That’s it, I’m done!” Riki snapped, storming away from your desk.

“Come back! I’ll keep it!” you called out, still smiling. “You might need to work on the anatomy, though.”

After class, as Riki was leaving with his defeated art supplies, he caught up with his friends.

“Dude, what was that? Did you just draw her a stick figure of you two?” Jake asked, holding his stomach from laughing so hard.

“It’s called art, okay?” Riki muttered. “It’s supposed to be deep.”

Sunghoon, who had been walking behind him, raised an eyebrow. “The only thing deep about that is your delusion.”

Riki groaned, his shoulders sagging. “Why does she have to be so… perfect? I keep trying everything and it’s just not working.”

“You’re trying too hard, man,” Heeseung said, slapping him on the back. “Maybe you should just chill out a bit and be yourself.”

“Yeah, because ‘myself’ is an artless, tone-deaf disaster who can’t draw a stick figure right,” Riki said bitterly.

“You’re a work in progress, that’s for sure,” Sunghoon added.

Meanwhile, you were walking with your friends, holding onto the “art” Riki had given you. You glanced at it one last time and grinned.

“You know what?” Karina said. “That might just be the worst thing I’ve ever seen, but I kinda think it’s sweet.”

“I think it’s cute that he keeps trying,” Giselle agreed. “He’s a mess, but at least he’s trying.”

“Yeah,” you said with a soft smile, “but you’ve got to admit, his failures are kinda entertaining.”

Julie raised an eyebrow. “But what if you did give him a chance?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Maybe. But for now, I’m having too much fun watching him crash and burn.”

The Desperate Measures

Riki had hit rock bottom.

He was no longer just the awkward, cringe-worthy guy trying to impress you with grand gestures. Now, he had become… desperate. Desperate to the point where he was willing to go behind your back and ask your friends for advice-terrible, absolutely terrible advice, which he took way too seriously.

It all started one afternoon during lunch. You were sitting with your friends, Karina, Giselle, and Julie, chatting and laughing about some random school gossip. Riki, seated at a table nearby with his basketball crew, could not stop staring at you. Every time you laughed or smiled, it felt like a small dagger to his heart-but in a good way-because, you know, he was in love.

But this was it. He was done. He couldn’t keep pretending to be casual about it. He needed a real plan. He needed help.

After a few minutes of overthinking, Riki made up his mind. He could already imagine how amazing things could be if he just figured out how to get you to like him back. His friends had tried to help, but every time he took their advice, he ended up making things worse. This time, he was going straight to the source: your friends.

He’d seen Karina, Giselle, and Julie talking to you during lunch, so he mustered up all the courage he had and casually walked over to their table. He cleared his throat dramatically.

“Hey, ladies,” he said with a grin that looked more like a nervous twitch. “What’s up?”

Karina raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, hey Riki. Didn’t know you were interested in joining our table.”

“I wasn’t,” Riki replied, a little too quickly. “I just need… uh… some advice. About her.” He nodded towards you, trying to be discreet.

Giselle smirked, clearly knowing exactly what he meant. “Oh, you mean Y/N?”

“Yes,” Riki said, clearly desperate. “How do I… get her to like me?”

There was a moment of silence as the three girls exchanged amused glances. They were all fully aware of Riki’s crush on you, and each one of them had been watching his attempts from the sidelines, laughing and waiting for the inevitable failure. But now that Riki was asking them for help, they were more than ready to give him advice.

Julie leaned forward, her voice low but full of mischief. “Well, Riki,” she began, “the thing is, you’ve gotta show her that you’re different from the other guys. You know, stand out in a way that makes her think you’re… special.”

“Oh, totally,” Riki said, nodding eagerly. “I can do that.”

Karina chimed in next. “Also, be unpredictable. You know, surprise her. Do something she won’t see coming. Maybe like, I don’t know… show up to class with a puppy or something.”

“Wait, a puppy?” Riki asked, confused. “Like, you’re saying I should just-”

“Yeah,” Karina interrupted, leaning back in her seat. “It works every time. Who could resist a cute dog? I mean, think about it. You walk into the room with a puppy, and she’ll melt. Instant win.”

Riki’s eyes lit up. “A puppy… right. Got it.”

“Also,” Giselle added, “don’t forget to be mysterious. Like, when you talk to her, keep it vague. Don’t reveal everything about yourself all at once. Make her curious.”

Riki took notes in his mind. “Mysterious, yes. Vague. Keep her guessing.”

Julie winked. “And don’t forget to compliment her, like, all the time. But make it subtle, you know? Like, I like your vibe or you’re different from everyone else. Keep it casual. Don’t sound desperate, even if you are.”

Riki nodded so furiously he nearly gave himself whiplash. “Right. Keep it casual. Subtle compliments.”

“And most importantly,” Karina said, her voice suddenly turning more serious, “don’t let her see you sweat. Even if everything’s going horribly wrong, just act like it’s no big deal.”

Riki took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. “Okay. Okay, I can do this. I’ll do everything you said. Thanks, guys.”

As he walked away, he was practically glowing with optimism, as if this was the breakthrough he’d been waiting for. What could possibly go wrong?

Later that afternoon, Riki put his plan into action. He had managed to convince his cousin to lend him a tiny puppy (who was far too energetic for Riki’s lack of experience with animals), and he had every intention of marching into your class with that puppy in tow. He had his compliments prepared, his mysterious vibes ready, and his subtle confidence locked and loaded.

He walked to your classroom, puppy in hand, his heart pounding in his chest. The puppy squirmed in his arms, clearly not impressed with Riki’s handling skills, but he was too focused on you to notice. He entered the classroom and immediately caught your attention.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, trying to sound cool but still managing to squeak a little. “Look what I got.”

You looked up from your seat and blinked. “Uh, what’s that?”

Riki proudly held up the puppy. “A puppy. I thought it’d be a fun surprise.” He flashed a grin, trying to channel his best “mysterious” energy.

You looked at the puppy for a moment before looking back at Riki, your expression unreadable. “Why are you showing me this?”

Riki’s smile faltered for a second, but he quickly recovered. “Because, you know, puppies make people happy. And I thought… I thought you’d like it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You got a puppy for me?”

“Yeah,” Riki said, still grinning, but now it was starting to feel forced. “Just, you know, to show I care. And that I’m different.”

You stared at him for a moment, clearly confused, before glancing at the puppy again. “Well, it’s cute, I guess. But, uh, where’s the rest of it?”

Riki blinked. “What?”

“You know,” you said, deadpan, “usually when people get puppies, there’s like, a point to it. Like, you’re adopting it. Or… giving it away. Are you just borrowing this puppy for a vibe check or…?”

Riki froze. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Uh…” He turned the puppy around and tried to make it do something cute, but the puppy only managed to chew on his sleeve. “Well… yeah, I mean, I just thought I’d bring it by. You know, to impress you.”

“Impress me with a dog?” you asked, looking genuinely perplexed. “That’s… a first.”

Riki’s face turned bright red. He wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. This was nothing like what he’d imagined. He could hear his friends’ advice echoing in his mind: Make her think you’re special… Keep it mysterious… Compliment her subtly.

Instead, here he was, holding an unruly puppy that was completely sabotaging his “plan.”

“Uh, Riki,” you said, breaking the awkward silence, “I gotta go. Maybe next time you try impressing me, you could leave the puppy with its owner and just, I don’t know, talk to me like a normal person.”

Riki stood there, watching you walk away, the puppy tugging at his sleeve like it, too, was trying to escape.

Later that evening, Riki found himself sitting in his room, utterly defeated. He had tried everything. The puppy was a disaster. His mysterious vibe was nonexistent. And when he’d tried to compliment you earlier, it had come out as awkward rambling.

But what hurt the most? The lies his friends had told him.

“I thought a puppy would be enough to impress her,” he muttered to himself, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t get it.”

The Game-Changing Disaster

Riki had spent the entire week psyching himself up for this moment. It was the biggest basketball game of the season, and everyone was talking about it. The energy in the gymnasium was electric, and the entire school was buzzing with excitement. All eyes were on Riki, the star player of the team, and he was determined to use this opportunity to finally, finally impress you.

He had it all planned out. He wasn’t just going to play well-no, no, no. He was going to dedicate his performance to you, and in doing so, he would show you how much he cared. This would be the moment where everything would fall into place. All those awkward attempts, the puppy fiasco, the art class embarrassment-it would all be worth it once he made you notice him in the most epic way possible.

The game had started, and Riki was already in the zone. He was running up and down the court, weaving between his teammates and opponents, effortlessly sinking shots and making assists. The crowd roared in approval, chanting his name. He was on fire. This was his time to shine. The only thing left was to make sure you saw it all.

As the game went on, Riki began scanning the crowd, looking for you. He spotted Karina and Giselle waving their hands frantically from the bleachers, but that wasn’t what he was focused on. No, his eyes were locked on you-sitting in the third row, looking effortlessly cool with your friends, totally unaware of the storm of emotions Riki was experiencing from the court.

His heart skipped a beat. This was it. This was his big moment. He could feel the weight of the ball in his hands, the adrenaline coursing through his veins. As he dribbled past an opponent and took a quick glance at the crowd to make sure you were watching, he had an epiphany: he would dedicate this final shot to you.

“I’m gonna do it. I’m going to win this for her,” Riki whispered to himself, a smile creeping onto his face. “She’ll see. She’ll finally see how much I care.”

The clock was ticking down, and Riki could feel the heat of the game intensifying. The score was close, and the final seconds were approaching. His teammates passed him the ball, and he was wide open for a shot. This was the moment.

As he dribbled toward the basket, Riki suddenly had the thought of you in his mind. He could almost hear the crowd cheering for him, but all he could focus on was you. This is for you, he thought as he took the jump shot.

And that’s when it happened.

Right as Riki was soaring through the air, preparing to make the perfect shot, his gaze shifted back toward you in the stands-just in time to see you laughing with your friends. Why is she laughing? What’s so funny?

And that was the fatal mistake.

In his distraction, Riki misjudged his footing. He stumbled mid-air, his legs flailing wildly as he lost control of his balance. The crowd went silent for a moment as they watched Riki completely biff it mid-court. In one glorious second, he went from being the hero to the clumsiest guy on the court.

Riki’s foot caught on the floor, and with a loud thud, he crashed onto the hardwood, his body sprawled out in a full-on disaster pose. The ball, meanwhile, ricocheted off the backboard with the precision of a rock skipping across a lake, missing the hoop entirely and landing at the feet of a very confused player from the other team.

For a brief moment, there was a stunned silence in the gym. Everyone, including Riki, seemed to be in shock. His teammates stood frozen, and even the opposing team stopped mid-play.

Riki slowly pushed himself up from the floor, his face redder than a tomato. His heart was pounding, and he felt like crawling into a hole and staying there forever. The gym slowly erupted into laughter, and he couldn’t tell whether they were laughing with him or at him-he suspected the latter.

“Riki!” one of his teammates, Jake, shouted in disbelief. “What the hell was that?!”

Riki just groaned, clutching his forehead in embarrassment. “I… I wasn’t looking where I was going,” he muttered, utterly defeated.

From the bleachers, Karina, Giselle, and Julie burst into laughter. “I knew he’d mess it up,” Karina laughed, nudging Giselle.

“I didn’t think he’d do it this spectacularly, though,” Giselle added. “At least he can’t blame the puppy this time.”

Riki was too mortified to even respond, his mind still stuck on that disastrous fall. He was supposed to be impressing you, not doing an impromptu audition for a slapstick comedy show. He couldn’t even face you, especially after you’d probably seen the entire thing unfold.

But then, as he stood up, trying to salvage some shred of dignity, he heard the sound of someone clicking a camera.

“Hold up,” a voice called out from behind him. It was Sunghoon, his ever-sarcastic teammate. “I think I got a shot.”

Riki turned around, his eyes wide with horror. “Sunghoon, no.”

“Oh yeah, I got this for sure,” Sunghoon said, flipping his phone in his hands. “This is gold.” He held up his phone, showing Riki the photo-an image of Riki in mid-fall, mouth wide open, and arms flailing in a way that could only be described as pure chaos.

Riki’s face went pale. “Are you serious?” he asked, horrified.

“I’m not just serious,” Sunghoon said, grinning. “This is my new favorite thing to pull up whenever you start acting all cocky about your skills.”

“No, Sunghoon, don’t you dare-”

But it was too late. Sunghoon already had a plan in mind. “You can’t be mad at me when this is priceless. If you ever try to pretend you’re a smooth operator again, I’ll be pulling this up on my Instagram story.”

Riki’s stomach dropped. He could already imagine the comments: “Riki the basketball pro, more like Riki the human trampoline”, or “When you try to impress someone but end up impressing the floor instead”.

As the game continued, Riki couldn’t focus. He was too embarrassed to even think straight. His team managed to win the game despite his epic fail, but he couldn’t find any joy in the victory. Instead, he was consumed by one thought: How could he make it up to you after this disaster?

After the game, Riki sulked back to the locker room, avoiding his teammates’ teasing and pretending to focus on changing into his regular clothes. But he couldn’t stop thinking about you. What had you thought when you saw him crash like that? Was he still embarrassing? Was there any chance he could salvage what little dignity he had left?

And then, his phone buzzed.

It was a notification from Instagram. He opened it up, and his heart sank.

There it was-the photo that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Sunghoon had uploaded it, complete with a hilarious caption.

Riki groaned and buried his face in his hands. He knew that he would never live it down.

School Festival Chaos

The school festival was a legendary event every year-one of those days where the entire school came together to put on extravagant booths, games, and performances. The air was thick with the smell of food, the laughter of students, and the constant hum of excitement as people rushed from one event to the next. This was the day Riki had been waiting for.

The day he would finally win you a prize.

Riki had spent the past hour going from one booth to another, determined to prove to you that he was capable of doing something right for once. He had so many chances to impress you-so many games to win, so many prizes to grab. But despite his best efforts, he kept coming up short.

At the first booth, he tried to win a stuffed bear by throwing darts at balloons. Simple, right? Well, apparently not for Riki, whose aim was so off that he might as well have been throwing the darts with his eyes closed. The booth attendant was trying to hide their smirk as they handed him a consolation prize: a tiny rubber spider.

“Great,” Riki muttered, clutching the spider like it was the most embarrassing thing he’d ever touched. “Perfect for impressing Y/N.”

At the next booth, it was a ring toss, and this time, he was determined. The objective was simple-get the ring on the bottle, win a prize. It was foolproof. That is, until Riki threw the first ring, which somehow flew over the booth, narrowly missing someone’s head and landing in the bushes.

He stared at the ring as if it had betrayed him. I swear, I’m getting closer each time, he thought, trying to maintain his optimism.

After several failed attempts, he walked away from the booth defeated, feeling like a man who had lost his dignity in the process. But no! He couldn’t give up now! He had to keep trying. He had to show you he could win something, anything.

Meanwhile, you had been watching from the sidelines with your friends-Karina, Giselle, and Julie-amused by Riki’s increasingly desperate attempts.

“Is Riki… trying to win prizes for you?” Karina asked with a raised eyebrow, a teasing grin on her face.

Giselle snorted. “He’s been at it for, like, an hour. I thought this was supposed to be easy for him.”

Julie chuckled. “I don’t know, I’m just here for the chaos. This is honestly better than the game last week.”

You, however, couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him. Sure, it was funny, but it was also kind of cute in its own way. It wasn’t every day that someone was this determined to impress you.

Riki finally stumbled over to a prize booth that seemed like it was perfect for him: a giant basketball hoop toss. The sign promised a grand prize-an oversized plush lion. And you had mentioned before how much you loved lions.

This is it, Riki thought. This is my moment. She’ll finally be impressed. I can do this.

He stepped up to the booth, the prize looming large in his mind. His hands were shaking with nerves as he grabbed the basketball. It wasn’t a real one, of course, just one of those cheap foam balls you could get at a carnival, but Riki didn’t care. He was already envisioning himself handing you the giant lion, your face lighting up in admiration.

With a deep breath, he tossed the ball.

It missed the hoop entirely.

Riki groaned and let his shoulders slump. He watched in horror as the ball bounced off the edge and rolled across the floor, completely out of his reach.

“Nice try!” the booth attendant called out with forced enthusiasm. “Would you like to try again?”

Riki waved them off, his spirit broken. “No, I think I’ve had enough for today.”

From across the way, you saw Riki standing at the booth, looking absolutely defeated. Despite his continuous failures, you couldn’t help but smile. It was hard not to appreciate his effort. It was like he was trying so hard that it had become almost endearing-almost.

“Riki’s been at this for ages,” Giselle commented, watching him walk away from the booth, dejected. “This is gonna be a disaster if he keeps at it.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation. “It’s like he’s determined to impress me, but in the worst way possible.”

Karina shot you a playful look. “Maybe you should help him out.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Help him? With that? He’s got this.”

But then you thought about it for a second. He was clearly trying so hard. And although he was failing miserably, you could see the genuine intent behind it.

“You know what?” you said, standing up. “Maybe I’ll show him how it’s done.”

You walked over to the same booth Riki had just left, where the attendant gave you a casual smile as you approached.

“Hey, what’s up?” they said. “You looking to win a big prize?”

“Yeah,” you replied with a smile, “I’ll give it a shot.”

Riki, who had been walking in the opposite direction, noticed you standing at the booth, ready to give it a go. His heart immediately started racing. What was this? You? Playing the basketball hoop toss? He couldn’t believe it.

This is going to be embarrassing, he thought. If she wins, it’ll be like rubbing salt in the wound.

But then something surprising happened.

You grabbed the foam basketball and made your first shot. It swooshed perfectly through the hoop.

Riki froze. “No way.”

You grabbed the ball again. Shot two. Swish.

His jaw dropped. “Wait, what?!”

You continued, effortlessly making shot after shot, as if you had been practicing for this exact moment. In just a few seconds, you had hit the required number of successful shots, and the attendant handed you the giant lion plush.

Riki stood there, stunned.

“Uh, well,” you said with a smirk as you approached him, the massive lion in your hands. “Guess you need to work on your aim a little more, huh?”

Riki could only blink, a mix of shock and admiration on his face. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You… you really just did that.”

You handed him the lion with a grin. “I figured it was the least I could do after watching you fail so many times.”

He took the lion from you, blushing deeply, feeling like the biggest fool on the planet. “I… I thought I could get it for you. You know, so you could be impressed with me.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I am impressed, just not for the reasons you think.”

Riki’s blush deepened as he hugged the oversized plush to his chest, too embarrassed to look you in the eye. “Thanks. I don’t deserve this… but thank you.”

You smiled warmly at him. “It’s nothing, really. You were trying so hard, Riki. That counts for something.”

Riki stood there, holding the giant lion in his arms, his mind completely overwhelmed by how much he cared about you-and how much he wanted to make you proud. Maybe he wasn’t perfect, but at least he was trying, and he was getting closer to impressing you, even if it wasn’t the way he expected.

Later that day, as the festival continued, Riki’s friends couldn’t help but tease him about what had happened.

“I knew you were gonna lose,” Jake said, snickering.

But Riki just laughed along with them, holding the giant lion proudly. “Yeah, yeah. I guess it wasn’t meant to be. But hey, at least she won me a prize.”

His friends gave him a knowing look, but he didn’t care. He was content just knowing that you had finally noticed him.

Confessions Gone Wrong

It had been a few days since the school festival disaster, and Riki had barely been able to think of anything else. Despite his epic failures, there was one thing that kept him going-you. He’d been replaying the whole day over and over in his head, and it hit him like a ton of bricks: he had feelings for you. Big, gigantic, overwhelming feelings.

Now, he had to tell you.

It was time to confess.

Riki sat in the cafeteria, fidgeting nervously with his hands. His mind was racing a mile a minute. What if you said no? What if it was super awkward? What if you laughed in his face? He didn’t know why he thought confessing was a good idea in the first place. It was way too risky. But no, he couldn’t chicken out. He had to do this.

His friends, however, seemed to have other ideas.

“You got this, man,” Heeseung said, clapping Riki on the back. “Just be straight with her. Say something like, ‘I like you.’”

“Yeah, man,” Jake added, leaning in from the side. “Don’t overthink it. Just… do it.”

Riki stared at them blankly. “You guys don’t understand. I’m not just telling her I like her, I’m… I’m confessing. This is big. This is… important.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “Is this like, a romantic confession or more of a ‘I’d like to take you to dinner sometime but also I might die of embarrassment in the process’ type of deal?”

“It’s… both,” Riki mumbled, his mind swirling in confusion. “I don’t know, I just-”

“You know what would really work?” Jay interrupted, his voice suddenly deadly serious. “You gotta be like, ‘I don’t know what’s happening between us, but I just can’t stop thinking about you.’ You know, make it sound deep. Like you’ve been contemplating it.”

“Yeah, like you’re having an existential crisis about it,” Sunghoon chimed in. “Like, ‘I’m not sure if I’m alive or just existing without you.’ It’ll make her swoon for sure.”

Riki’s face turned crimson. “What? No, that’s way too much! I just want to say something simple!”

“Fine, fine, okay,” Heeseung said, shrugging. “Here’s the thing, bro: when in doubt, just make it funny. Humor is everything. You don’t want to come off too serious, like you’re trying too hard, right?”

“That’s true, but also, you gotta act confident,” Jake added. “Like, you’re the catch here, you know? Show her that you are the one who should be adored.”

“Got it,” Riki said, though he was starting to feel more overwhelmed than before. “Just be funny and confident. Easy.”

After what felt like an eternity of pep talks from his friends, Riki finally spotted you sitting at your usual table, chatting with Karina and Giselle. He took a deep breath, straightened his back, and made his way over to your table, trying his hardest to look cool. His heart was pounding, and his palms were sweaty. This was it-he was finally going to confess.

As he approached, your friends gave him a knowing look, but you remained completely unaware of what was coming.

“Hey, Y/N,” Riki greeted, standing awkwardly in front of your table, his fingers twitching nervously. “Can I, uh, talk to you for a sec?”

You looked up, your expression warm and friendly. “Sure, what’s up?”

Riki cleared his throat, trying to appear calm. “Okay, so, um… this is a bit hard for me to say, but… I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and…”

And then, just as he was about to continue, he felt the eyes of his friends boring into him from across the cafeteria.

“Say something smooth!” Heeseung mouthed from behind you, giving him an exaggerated thumbs-up.

“Don’t mess up!” Sunghoon whispered, and Riki swore he saw him holding up a fake phone to his ear like he was recording it for blackmail.

His heart rate picked up, and in the middle of the intense pressure, he completely forgot the smooth, confident line he’d planned. Instead, all that came out of his mouth was:

“Do you wanna, like… hang sometime?”

Your expression didn’t change, and Riki was already bracing himself for the awkward silence when-

“No, wait! I mean, bang…! I mean-!” Riki slapped his hand over his mouth immediately, realizing what he had just said. He blinked, stunned by his own words, and then the horror set in. He had just asked you-asked you to hang-and then he accidentally blurted out bang?!

You stared at him, your eyes wide in shock, and then… you burst out laughing. It was a genuine laugh, the kind that made Riki’s face burn with embarrassment.

“You… you want to-what?!” you gasped between laughs, clutching your stomach. “Did you just-”

“No! No, I meant hang out!” Riki sputtered, shaking his head frantically. “I swear, I didn’t mean to say that! I’m-Oh my God, this is so embarrassing…”

“Did you just..bang?” Karina asked, unable to hold in her laughter, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Riki, are you asking Y/N to… what, exactly?”

Riki wanted to die right there. This was it. This was his confession. He had just managed to make a fool of himself in front of you in the worst way possible.

“Bro, you gotta stop digging,” Jake said, face-palming from across the cafeteria. “This is like watching a slow-motion train wreck.”

Your laughter died down, but you still had a grin on your face as you wiped away the tears from your eyes. “I… okay. You really know how to make a confession memorable, I’ll give you that.”

Riki stared at you, trying to process what had just happened. “I swear, I didn’t mean that. I was just trying to say something simple and-”

“Yeah, you definitely kept it simple,” you teased, giving him a playful wink. “I think this is the most creative confession I’ve ever heard.”

Riki buried his face in his hands. “Oh my God, I’m never living this down, am I?”

“Honestly?” you said, leaning back in your chair, looking far too amused for Riki’s liking. “I think I’d rather hang out with you than bang...”

“You’re killing me here,” Riki groaned, his face bright red. “I swear, I’m going to die from secondhand embarrassment.”

But you just smiled, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “It’s okay, Riki. I get it. You’re nervous. You can always try again… just, you know, without the ‘bang’ part.”

“Yeah, bro,” Sunghoon piped up from behind, clearly enjoying every moment. “You gotta learn how to do this without sounding like a walking disaster.”

You turned to your friends, still chuckling. “Honestly, though, I think this is the best confession I’ve gotten all week.”

Riki raised his head and gave you a weak smile. “Well, at least it’s memorable.”

“You’re telling me,” you quipped. “In fact, this might just go down in history as the most awkward confession of all time. But hey, at least you didn’t say something worse, right?”

Riki wanted to die, but at the same time… he didn’t. Despite the awkwardness, despite his humiliation, there was something about the way you were teasing him-playfully, not mean-spirited-that made him feel like he might actually have a chance.

Later, as Riki trudged back to his friends, who were all practically rolling on the floor in laughter, he couldn’t help but smile through his embarrassment. At least you didn’t hate him. Maybe, just maybe, he had a shot at getting it right next time.

The Panic Panic

It was another regular school day-well, as regular as a school day could be when Riki was still trying to recover from his disastrous confession. He was walking to class, still embarrassed, but at least he was trying to act like nothing happened. His friends kept bringing it up every chance they got, but for the most part, Riki had learned to laugh it off… well, at least he pretended to laugh it off.

You, however, were always on his mind. It was impossible not to think about how cute you were when you laughed at his confession. It wasn’t mean, just funny in a way that made him feel a little less terrible. Plus, he loved how you didn’t seem to mind his blunders, and honestly, that made him want to impress you even more.

That afternoon, as Riki was sitting at lunch with his friends, he noticed Julie staring at him with a mischievous grin on her face. She was sitting with you, Karina, and Giselle at the table, clearly plotting something.

“Hey, Riki,” Julie said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You know, I’ve been thinking… Y/N really deserves someone special, don’t you think?”

Riki froze, his heart skipping a beat. “Uh… yeah?”

“Yeah!” Julie said enthusiastically. “But you know, she might need a real man, you know? Someone who actually knows how to talk to her and doesn’t mess up their confessions in the most cringe-worthy way possible.” She smirked, raising an eyebrow.

Riki could feel his face heating up. “Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

Julie winked. “Well, the whole bang thing was a little… memorable. But don’t worry! Maybe I should just set her up with someone else, someone who could actually sweep her off her feet.” She leaned back in her chair, giving Riki a teasing look. “What do you think? Should I hook her up with, like, Sunghoon or someone? He does know how to talk to girls.”

Riki’s eyes widened in panic. No way-he couldn’t let that happen. Not after everything he’d been trying to do. He had to prove he was the better option.

“No! No way, I-I mean, no! I’m totally… totally better than Sunghoon!” Riki blurted out, his words tumbling over each other. “I mean, I’ve got this! I know I messed up last time, but I can fix it! I can prove I’m… I’m a good choice! Way better than Sunghoon. Way better.”

Julie raised an eyebrow. “Really? You? Prove it, then.”

Riki looked over at Sunghoon, who was sitting with his friends across the cafeteria, casually chatting. He had his usual confident smirk on his face, like he could talk to anyone without even trying. Riki felt a spike of jealousy. Of course, Sunghoon was perfect. He was always smooth with the ladies. 

But there was no way he was going to lose this.

“I can do it,” Riki muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. “I can… I just need to do something that’ll really impress her. Something big. Like, heroic.”

Giselle, who had been listening to the whole conversation, let out a laugh. “Heroic? Riki, do you even know what that word means? You barely survived your confession last week!”

“Oh, shut up, Giselle,” Riki snapped, puffing out his chest. “I’ve got this. I’m going to do something so impressive, she’ll forget all about the ‘bang’ thing.”

Julie grinned. “Sure, sure. Go ahead, then. I’d like to see how you plan to outdo Sunghoon.”

Riki, determined not to back down, stood up from his seat. “Watch and learn, everybody. Watch and learn.”

After some thought, Riki had what he thought was a brilliant idea: he would impress you with something athletic-something that would highlight his strength and talent. He couldn’t just be the awkward guy who messes up his words. No, he was Riki, the basketball star. Surely that would be enough, right?

Later that afternoon, Riki found you standing near the school gym, talking to Karina and Giselle. His heart skipped a beat. This was it. He had already seen Sunghoon playing basketball earlier, and he knew he could do better. He was definitely better.

“Hey, Y/N!” Riki called, jogging over to you with a grin plastered on his face. “You like basketball, right?”

You turned to him, looking mildly curious but not too interested. “Yeah, I mean, I guess. Why?”

“Well, I was thinking, maybe we could… I don’t know, shoot some hoops together?” He tried to sound casual, but his voice cracked at the end.

Karina raised an eyebrow. “Are you seriously asking her to shoot hoops with you?”

Riki shot her a glare, clearly ignoring her. “I’m totally fine with it, no pressure. I can show you some of my sick tricks.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by his sudden enthusiasm. “Sick tricks? Like what?”

Riki grinned, feeling an overwhelming surge of confidence. “Like, watch this!”

Without waiting for a response, he jogged over to the basketball hoop. He grabbed a ball, dribbled it a couple of times, and then made a jump shot from a distance. The ball flew through the air, and… hit the rim.

It bounced off and fell straight to the ground.

Riki’s face immediately turned red. Okay, that wasn’t supposed to happen. He picked up the ball and tried again, only for it to miss the hoop entirely and roll across the gym.

“You got this, bro!” Sunghoon yelled from across the gym, watching with his usual smug grin. “Totally nailed it!”

You and your friends burst out laughing. Even Karina couldn’t hold back.

“You know, you really should’ve stuck with your original plan,” Giselle said, still snickering. “You know, the ‘just talk to her and don’t say anything weird’ plan.”

Riki stood there, trying to recover from his failed attempt, but now he was sweating. This was not going according to plan. This was supposed to be his big moment. Instead, it felt like a huge disaster.

“I-uh, okay, okay!” he said, finally looking back at you. “I can do better. I’ll-wait for it.”

You looked at him with an amused expression, barely holding back another laugh. “You sure you’ve got this, Riki? I’m not sure this is the ‘heroic’ moment you had in mind.”

Riki’s face was so red he could’ve passed for a tomato. “No, no, I’ve got this! Just-just wait!”

Julie, who had been watching from the sidelines, gave him a slow clap. “Oh, look, it’s the basketball star. Never mind, Sunghoon’s got this one, right?”

Riki felt a surge of panic. No, he couldn’t let this happen. He needed to redeem himself, and fast. He looked at you again, the pressure mounting. “Okay, okay, let’s-let’s just hang sometime. Maybe we can… actually do something fun. How about… a movie? Or something?”

You smiled, clearly enjoying watching him flail. “Sure, we can hang. But if you’re going to keep embarrassing yourself like this, I’m definitely going with Sunghoon next time.”

The panic that flooded Riki’s chest was almost unbearable. He was getting crushed by his own nerves and the weight of your expectations. No way was he going to lose to Sunghoon. He had to step up his game… but how?

Karina's Makeover Plan

The school dance was just around the corner. The buzz of excitement and nerves filled the hallways as everyone began preparing for what was sure to be a night full of glitter, lights, and, of course, a lot of questionable dance moves. For some students, the thought of attending the dance was an exciting prospect. For others, like Riki, it was the perfect opportunity to do something incredibly dumb for the sake of impressing you.

“Okay, listen up,” Karina said one afternoon as she pulled you aside after school, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “The dance is coming up, and you need a makeover. No more hiding in the background like some cute but invisible wallflower. It’s time for you to shine, and I-” She gave a dramatic pause, “-am the one who’s going to make that happen.”

You blinked, unsure if Karina was serious or just playing one of her usual pranks. “A makeover? Karina, I’m fine. I don’t need-”

“Nope, not happening,” she interrupted, her arms crossed and a determined look on her face. “You deserve to feel amazing. Plus, I need you to show Riki just how incredible you really are, especially now that he’s been-how do we say it?-failing miserably at everything.” She gave a dramatic roll of her eyes.

You groaned. “You seriously think Riki is the reason for all of this?”

“Well, yes! He’s a mess, and it’s obvious,” Karina said, her tone as blunt as ever. “But a makeover will give you that extra oomph to make him realize that you’re not just some girl who trips over her words. You are a force to be reckoned with.”

Reluctantly, you agreed. It wasn’t like you had a choice in the matter when Karina set her mind to something. You had a feeling she had already gathered a whole team of “makeover” supplies without even asking you for input.

The next day, you found yourself sitting in front of Karina’s full beauty arsenal-a bunch of hair tools, makeup, and the most fashionable clothes she could dig out of her closet. It felt like something straight out of a high school makeover montage, but you couldn’t deny that Karina had a way of making things work.

“You ready for this?” Karina asked, flashing you a grin. “We’re going to take Riki’s mind off every embarrassing thing he’s done. After this, he’ll be so smitten, he won’t know what hit him.”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical but willing to go along with it. “Do you think this will actually work?”

Karina winked. “Trust me, it’s foolproof.”

Hours later, the transformation was complete. Karina had somehow managed to do her magic, and you looked… well, different. Your hair was perfectly styled, your makeup was subtle yet striking, and your outfit? Stunning. You barely recognized yourself in the mirror. You looked like you belonged in one of those high school romantic comedies where the quiet, shy girl takes off her glasses and suddenly turns into the hottest girl in school.

You turned to Karina, unsure of how to feel. “This… I look like I’m about to star in a drama.”

“Exactly!” Karina replied, her voice filled with pride. “You’re going to slay, trust me. Now, get out there and make Riki wish he had never messed up that confession.”

As you walked down the hall toward the dance, you could feel everyone’s eyes on you. It was like the world had suddenly stopped, and all attention was on you. You spotted Riki in the crowd almost immediately. He was with his friends, standing near the snack table, looking as if he were discussing the most important thing on the planet-most likely how he could redeem himself from his last attempt to impress you.

The moment he saw you, his entire demeanor shifted. His eyes widened, and his jaw went slack. His friends immediately noticed his reaction.

“Dude,” Sunghoon said with a knowing grin, “you’re drooling.”

Riki didn’t even seem to hear him, still staring at you in absolute awe.

“I think he just short-circuited,” Sunoo said, his voice dripping with sass. “Like, seriously, bro. He’s just standing there like a puppy who’s been hit by a bus.”

“Wait for it,” Jay said, eyes glinting with mischief. “He’s gonna try to walk over and make a move. Let’s see how he screws this up.”

Sure enough, Riki started to move toward you, his feet awkwardly shuffling in the most un-Riki-like way possible. His friends exchanged knowing glances.

“Here we go,” Jake muttered, sipping his drink. “This is gonna be good.”

As Riki approached, his face was flushed with excitement-or maybe panic, it was hard to tell. He took a deep breath, trying to act cool. “Hey, Y/N,” he said, his voice coming out slightly higher than usual. “You, uh, look… wow.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “What, no bang this time?”

Riki winced, the memory of his previous mistake still fresh in his mind. “I-uh, no. I meant to say you look amazing, like, wow, incredible. Seriously. I mean, you always look good, but tonight-whoa.”

“Thanks,” you said, trying not to laugh at how flustered he was. “It’s Karina’s work, so you know it’s dangerous when she’s involved.”

Riki chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Karina really knows how to… transform people. You look so-” He paused mid-sentence, clearly struggling to put his thoughts into words.

“Like a goddess?” Sunghoon called out from behind Riki, earning an eye roll from Riki in return.

“Shut up, Sunghoon,” Riki muttered, his face now entirely red.

You couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t worry, Riki. I’m used to people staring at me like I’m a foreign species after a makeover.”

“That’s not the point,” Riki blurted out, finally gaining some semblance of confidence. “I-uh, I think you look amazing. I mean, seriously. Like, wow.” He nodded emphatically, and you could tell he was trying way too hard to not look like a complete disaster.

“You’re killing me here, Riki,” Sunoo said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re acting like you’ve never seen a girl before.”

“Yeah, bro, relax,” Sunghoon added. “She’s just a person, not a whole new species.”

“Shut up, both of you!” Riki snapped, clearly annoyed but still unable to pull his eyes away from you.

You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a little bit of satisfaction. You had managed to break him in the best way possible, and honestly? It was kind of hilarious. But there was something else, too. Something more than just amusement. You liked that Riki was so flustered by your appearance. Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to realize how much he actually liked you.

“Well, thanks for the compliments, Riki,” you said, a teasing smile on your face. “I’ll take it as a win, considering how awkward you’re being right now.”

“I’m not awkward!” Riki insisted, but even he could tell that his voice had a higher pitch than usual. He was a mess, and he knew it. “I-uh, I just wasn’t expecting you to, you know, look like that. You’re… wow. Really wow.”

“And I think he’s short-circuited again,” Sunoo added with a sly grin, earning laughter from the rest of the group.

Riki buried his face in his hands, embarrassed beyond belief. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

As the night wore on, Riki’s attempts to act cool around you only became more ridiculous. But secretly, deep down, you kind of liked it. There was something about his awkward charm that was endearing, even if it made him seem like a nervous wreck every time you were near.

The dance was just beginning, and Riki was clearly trying to muster up the courage to ask you to dance. Would he succeed? Or would he trip over his own feet like usual? The tension was real, but you couldn’t help but feel a little excited to see where this would go.

Mutual Feelings

The days after the school dance were quieter than usual. The whirlwind of awkward moments, and teasing had settled down a bit. But there was something in the air now, something that wasn’t there before-the heavy, palpable feeling of anticipation. You could tell that Riki had changed. He still teased you, still tried to impress you in the silliest ways possible, but now there was a certain realness behind it. It wasn’t just a game anymore. It wasn’t just about winning your attention. No, he was genuinely trying to show you how much he liked you.

And while you pretended not to notice, you couldn’t help but feel the same way. You’d always been the quiet girl, the one who stayed in the background and let things unfold. But the more you saw Riki’s awkward, goofy charm, the more you realized that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t quite as indifferent as you thought.

It was after school one day, and you were walking down the hallway with Karina, Giselle, and Julie. The air felt heavy with the usual chatter of students, but something about today felt different. As you reached the end of the hallway, you saw Riki leaning against the lockers, his friends gathered around him as usual. His eyes locked onto yours immediately, and a slight blush crept onto his cheeks.

Karina nudged you with a teasing smile. “So, are you just gonna keep pretending like you don’t see him, or are you finally gonna admit that he’s been getting to you?” she whispered, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

You rolled your eyes, but your heart skipped a beat when you saw Riki standing there. He wasn’t even trying to hide the way he looked at you anymore-his gaze was open, hopeful, maybe even a little vulnerable.

“Let’s just go,” you muttered, trying to play it cool. But before you could take another step, Riki called out to you.

“Y/N!” His voice was a little too loud, a little too eager. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

You stopped in your tracks, your heart doing an odd little flip. You glanced at your friends, who were suddenly far too interested in their shoes, and then back at Riki.

“Sure,” you said, trying to sound casual, though you were anything but. You walked over to him, arms crossed, trying not to look too affected by his presence.

Riki shuffled awkwardly, clearly nervous. His usual cocky demeanor had melted away, leaving a more vulnerable version of him. It was almost adorable. He glanced down at the floor before looking back at you, his eyes softer than usual.

“Look,” he started, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this for a while, but I guess… I just need to say it now.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking ridiculously nervous.

You tilted your head, trying to act like you didn’t already know exactly what was coming. “Riki,” you said, your voice light, “you’re starting to sound like you’re about to give a big speech. Just get to it.”

Riki’s cheeks flushed even deeper, and he shifted from foot to foot like he was trying to find the courage to continue. “I-uh-I’ve liked you for a while. Like, a long while,” he admitted, his words coming out in a rush. “I know I’ve been acting like an idiot. I’ve probably messed up more times than I can count. But I really, really like you, Y/N.”

The air between you two felt thick, like time had slowed to a crawl. You blinked, trying to process what he had just said. You had known, of course, but hearing it out loud? It sent a strange warmth spreading through your chest.

Riki laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well… I really am terrible at this, huh?”

You shook your head, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. “Not terrible. Just… maybe a little too dramatic. But it’s kind of cute.”

Riki’s eyes widened, and for the briefest moment, it looked like he was holding his breath, waiting for you to say something else. “Cute?” he repeated, as if the word had just been a huge revelation.

You gave him a look, suddenly feeling a little more serious than you’d intended. “Yeah. You’re cute, Riki. But you’re also incredibly frustrating. I’ve had to watch you stumble through all of this… and I’ve liked you for a while, too.”

Riki’s mouth dropped open. “You liked me? But-wait, you knew?”

You smirked. “Riki, I’m not blind. I’ve noticed. But I didn’t want to just say it out loud, especially when you were trying so hard to not tell me.”

He grinned, the embarrassment melting away into something much more comfortable. “Well, I guess it’s nice to know I wasn’t just making a fool of myself for nothing.”

“You weren’t,” you replied softly. “But… just so you know, I think you’re the one who’s been making a fool of himself, not me.”

Riki’s face lit up with that stupid, goofy smile of his. “Hey, I’m fine with that. As long as it means we’re, you know, on the same page now.”

You nodded, feeling your heart do a little happy flip. “Yeah. Same page.”

Just then, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and the rest of the gang came walking down the hallway, practically hovering near Riki like they’d been waiting for the moment.

“Finally!” Sunghoon grinned, crossing his arms. “We’ve all been waiting for this.”

“Yeah, seriously, you two are so obvious,” Sunoo added with a smirk. “Took you long enough.”

Riki groaned, but you could see the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You guys were just as bad as I was, you know?”

Sunghoon laughed. “It was cute seeing you struggle, honestly.”

Riki sighed in defeat. “Alright, alright, I get it. I’m obviously a mess.” He looked at you, his expression softening again. “But at least I’m a mess with you now.”

You grinned back, the tension finally lifting. “Yeah, you are.”

As the group started walking toward the exit, Riki fell in step beside you. And for the first time in a while, it felt like the two of you weren’t just stumbling through this whole “relationship” thing. Maybe, just maybe, you were actually getting it right.

The Big Gesture

It had been a few weeks since the two of you had finally confessed your feelings, and everything felt like it was falling into place. The awkwardness was mostly gone, though Riki still couldn’t help but occasionally embarrass himself in the most hilarious ways. But now, it wasn’t just about the silly moments. It was about the real stuff-the moments where you could finally be yourselves without all the drama. Well, except for the good drama.

But Riki? Riki had been planning something. He wasn’t going to let things just coast along. No, he had to do something big, something memorable. He had been listening to all the advice his friends had been giving him-well, most of it anyway-and he had decided to take action. This time, he was going all out.

It was a Friday afternoon, and you were in your usual spot with Karina, Giselle, and Julie at lunch. You were chatting about the upcoming weekend plans when suddenly, you felt someone’s eyes on you.

You looked up to find Riki standing at the edge of the cafeteria, surrounded by his usual group of friends. But he wasn’t looking at you like usual. No, he was smiling-grinning, even-like he had some kind of secret. And that secret? You were about to find out.

He waved at you, his arms flailing in a way that made you almost roll your eyes. “Y/N! Come over here, I need to talk to you!”

You glanced at your friends. “What’s he doing now?”

Karina snickered. “I have no idea, but I’m ready for the drama. Let’s see what stupid thing he’s pulled this time.”

“Probably something that involves a microphone and a dance-off,” Giselle joked. “You know, classic Riki.”

But you stood up, curiosity getting the better of you. “Alright, alright. I’ll go see what this is about.”

When you reached Riki and his friends, they all looked at you with wide grins, clearly trying to hide something. Sunghoon was the first to speak up, his usual sarcasm oozing out. “Hey, Y/N. How’s it going? You know, Riki’s been planning something for you… and it’s definitely not a disaster. Not at all.”

Sunoo raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, no pressure. Totally foolproof plan here.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “What are you guys up to?”

Before anyone could answer, Riki suddenly stepped forward, his face almost serious-except for the small, nervous twitch in his eye. “So… I’ve been thinking about this for a while. And I figured it was time I did something big. You know, for you. Something that, uh… shows you just how much I like you.”

You blinked. “Wait, what? Are you serious? What are you planning?”

Riki grinned, a little too confidently. “Well, I can’t give everything away. But trust me, you’re gonna love it. Just meet me after school on the rooftop.”

You were about to say something more, but before you could, Sunghoon quickly added, “It’s going to be great. Just-no more questions. Just go.”

“I don’t trust any of you right now,” you muttered, but you agreed to meet him anyway. You were curious, after all.

Later that afternoon, as the school bell rang, you found yourself walking up the steps to the rooftop, your heart pounding a little faster than you’d like to admit. The rooftop was quiet, the sun beginning to set in the distance, casting a golden glow across the school.

As you reached the top, you saw Riki standing near the edge, his back turned to you. The breeze ruffled his hair as he turned to face you, his eyes twinkling with excitement and nervousness all at once.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice more serious than usual. “Thank you for giving me the chance to, well, be me around you. I know I’ve been a total mess… and yeah, I’m still not the best at this whole ‘romance’ thing. But I want you to know that you mean a lot to me.”

You were silent for a moment, your heart swelling at his words. He was so Riki-awkward, goofy, but somehow perfect in his own way.

Riki stepped forward, pulling out a small envelope from his pocket. He handed it to you with a nervous smile. “I wanted to write something for you. I thought maybe if I just, you know… talked about it, it wouldn’t have the same effect. So, um… here.”

You opened the envelope, reading the letter that he had written. It was sweet, surprisingly heartfelt, and completely Riki-filled with awkward metaphors about basketball and weird references. But underneath it all, it was clear that he meant every word.

“Riki,” you said softly, a smile tugging at your lips. “This is… this is sweet. And kind of embarrassing, but mostly really sweet.”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I mean, I didn’t think you’d want some perfect love letter. I wanted it to be real.”

You set the letter down on the ledge beside you, taking a deep breath. “I’ve always liked you, you know. I just… wasn’t sure if you were serious. But now? I think I get it. You’ve really put yourself out there.”

Riki’s eyes widened, and he took a step closer, a goofy smile spreading across his face. “So, does that mean…?”

You laughed softly. “Yeah, Riki. It means yes.”

There was a brief moment of silence, a beat of nervous energy in the air. Then, almost without thinking, Riki leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a soft, sweet kiss. It was like the entire world paused around you. There was no one else around, no interruptions, just the two of you.

It wasn’t some grand, dramatic kiss like you’d seen in movies. No, it was better. It was the kind of kiss that felt real, warm, and full of promise. The kind of kiss that told you that maybe all the embarrassing moments, the awkwardness, and the goofy gestures were worth it because they led to this moment.

When you pulled back, Riki was grinning like a fool. “So, uh, I guess that means I did the right thing, huh?”

You laughed, your heart still fluttering. “Yeah. You did.”

And just like that, the rooftop, the sunset, and the world seemed to align perfectly for both of you.

As you both made your way down the stairs, the rest of the gang appeared, jumping out from behind corners, from every direction-like they had been waiting for this exact moment.

“FINALLY!” Sunghoon yelled, throwing his hands up. “Took you two long enough!”

Sunoo smirked, crossing his arms. “I told you he’d pull this off. He’s actually not an idiot.”

Jake nodded seriously. “Riki? Actually doing something romantic? Who would’ve thought?”

Riki groaned, clearly embarrassed, but you just smiled, your hand slipping into his as you walked back down the hallway.

“You guys seriously had to follow us, huh?” you said with a playful eye roll.

Karina, Giselle, and Julie were standing nearby, all grinning like fools. “We knew this was coming,” Karina teased. “Just didn’t know it’d be so sweet.”

Julie grinned. “Honestly, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say Riki’s finally got his act together.”

And that was the moment-no big gestures needed, no speeches, just the quiet understanding that, in the end, everything had worked out. You’d both found something real, something worth celebrating.

And even though the teasing and jokes from your friends never stopped, you didn’t mind anymore. This was just the beginning of something amazing.

please comment, like, or reblog! those are highly appreciated

[sinnabarmoth]

Tribute for the Dragon (14/18)

(A/N: Sorry about the late update but I was running a fever of 103 and puking a lot so I couldn't finish writing. But I live and so does this story! We're finally at the chapter that prompted this entire fic!)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: With Sylus back home you learn exactly how much he has missed you.

Content Warnings: Adult language. Dragon rut. Breeding sex. Breeding kink. P in V. Cunnilingus. Rough sex. Overstimulation. Multiple creampies. Sex on the dais.

Length: 4k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (15)

Read on AO3

After having a moment to embrace Sylus and take in that he was truly home you grabbed him and took him next door to the workshop. “There’s something I want to show you. Think of it as a welcome home present.”

You led him over to the sculpture you had spent days crafting. It was a tall twisting sculpture meant to look like rising flames. From the base it was a soft blue and melted into colors of red, orange, and yellow as they went up. When on the ground it came up to about your hip. In the flames were hidden figures and shapes like a dragon wing and a wreath of flowers. Tiny moments from your life melted into the flames.

“I was inspired by the sculptures we saw when you took me to see that dragon tradition. I know that you don’t have one and I know it isn’t the same culture wise but I thought you might appreciate it.”

His hand hovered over the sculpture and the fine twisting tendrils that created the dancing flames. “It’s remarkable. You really did this?”

“Mmhmm.” you smiled wide. “Does that mean you like it?”

“I love it.” Sylus gathered you in his arms and kissed you. “You don’t know what this means to me. Thank you.”

“Only question is how to get it home.” you laughed. “I probably should have made it smaller so it was easier to transport.”

“No. I love it exactly as it is and I’ll come back for it later. But first, you said we had to get married?”

“Yes, let’s go get that over with so we can go home.” You grabbed Sylus again and found your father before heading for the church.

It was meant to be a quick affair, just with family and a few close friends but by the time you had grabbed Tara and were on your way back to the church it had been filled with people. You could only guess they were excited to see a dragon get married.

Upon seeing that there was a ton of people waiting your friends grabbed you and hauled you away again to get dressed in something better. You tried to tell them it was just a formality to make your father happy and that you didn’t need the whole ado but they weren’t listening. They had dug out your mother’s old wedding dress for you to put on and spent what felt like an eternity on your hair and make up. You didn’t tell them all this effort was for naught considering that Sylus was going to undo it all the moment you got back to the mountain.

It was strange, last time you had been pampered over like this it was to send you to be killed by a dragon. Now you were marrying one. Funny how life turns out.

When they deemed you ready they let you return to the church. Sylus stood out like a sore thumb in the middle of the church, shuffling his feet as he waited for you to return. You really wished there were less people here. It was awkward enough showing up in an entire wedding dress when he was still in his normal attire but to have the majority of the town seated to watch was not helping. Made you wish you had a bouquet if only for something to grip.

But you made it to the front and had the excuse of holding Sylus’s hands as the ceremony began. “Sorry about all the theatrics. This was supposed to be quick.” you whispered to him.

“It’s fine. Made for a fine excuse to see you in something so pretty.” he whispered back. “Although the virginal white is less than truthful.”

“Sylus!” you hissed at him.

The ceremony continued and you made your vows. “You may now kiss your bride.” the officiant said.

You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to kiss Sylus in front of so many people. Sylus had no such preoccupations and had taken the opportunity to pull you flush against him and kiss you hard. You staggered for a moment as he dipped you slightly. When he pulled back you noticed that he had blocked everyone’s view with his wings.

“Now,” he whispered, “I get to take you home?”

“Yes you do.”

Sylus scooped you up off your feet and strode out of the church before anyone could say any words of congratulations. You were back up in the biting winter air, the village shrinking beneath you as you soared through the grey sky. You looked out over the world and the blanket of snow that covered every inch of it. You knew that it would look amazing from high up.

You snuggled into Sylus’s chest, leeching whatever warmth you could get off of him. You were finally going home.

~~~

In the coming weeks more news came to the village about how the tide of the war was finally turning in the kingdom’s favor. They were expecting a defeat of the enemy soon enough. It was a relief to know that this would hopefully all be over soon. Apparently a lot of troops had fled and abandoned their posts when they had thought that the enemy had dragons to help fight for them. They only had Sylus for a couple weeks but it had done a great deal to help.

Speaking of Sylus he had been especially clingy since returning. Now, Sylus being clingy of you was nothing new. The man loved having you within arms length at any given time. But since coming back he had barely left your side at all. Wherever he was, you had to be. It did not matter what you were doing or what he was doing, you needed to be with him. You’d call it cute but knew how your precious dragon felt about being called cute.

You could practically hear his voice already in that deep baritone. “What is cute about me, little bird? The horns? The claws? Your idea of what is adorable must be horribly skewed if that word fits me.”

He had also been spoiling you rotten. Pampering you like you had never been before. He was doing everything for you and giving you gifts every single day. You figured he was just making up for all the time he was gone. You didn’t want to complain but it started annoying you when he tried to insist on carrying you everywhere. That’s where you finally had to draw a line.

You had finally gotten a moment to yourself when Sylus suddenly disappeared to some other part of the cave. You didn’t know for what reason he had decided to now leave you alone but you were taking advantage of the alone time by taking a relaxing hot bath. Being a dragon’s mate had some great perks, the hot springs were one of them. It always left your skin so warm and extra soft afterwards.

After you were done you redressed and started poking around looking for Sylus. You liked your alone time but now you were curious as to where he had gone. He wasn’t in the bedroom or the kitchen. You decided to try the hoard room next and that was where you finally found him. He was arranging the treasure around the dais in the center.

“Sylus?” your voice rung with an echo in the vast room. “What are you doing?”

He had gone ramrod straight, his tail flicking out and straightening at the sound of your voice. He snapped his gaze up at you and even from across the room you could tell there was a fire in his eyes. A literal fire. You usually only saw his already crimson eyes alight like that when he was angry or…possessive.

He vaulted over the dais, wings erupting from his back as he dove towards you like a hawk chasing its prey. His tail was actually what got you first, looping around your waist and pulling you towards him while he was still midair. He landed, trapping you against the wall. His mouth landed on your neck, biting hard into the soft flesh over your pulse.

“Ah, Sylus,” your voice came out as a gasp.

His tail curled tighter around you, plastering you to him. One hand cradled the back of your head, partly to protect it from hitting the wall and partly to pull it back so he could have better access to your neck. His wings were still out and they cocooned inward, encasing you entirely in his presence and his scent.

“So soft…” he muttered as he lathed the bite mark on your neck with his tongue.

“Not that I’m complaining,” you sighed as he moved to the other side of your neck and began to bite and suck a matching bruise onto your skin. “But can I know why we’re doing this now?”

He pulled back just enough to look in your eyes. The glaze of lust had abated just a bit as he fought for clarity. “It’s nature,” he said. You watched his throat bob as he swallowed, eyes roaming over your face. “Need you. Need all of you to reek of me.”

You were starting to understand. “Mark.” his fingers brushed the bruises on your neck. “Claim. My most precious treasure.”

Oh fuck. Was he in rut?

This was something you had read about during your research. Dragon mating was already intense but nothing about it was that much different from human mating. One glaring and obvious biological difference was a dragon rut.

Dragon ruts had their own quirks that had similarities to other animal mating practices. One factor was that dragons have the impulse to exercise their rut surrounded by their treasure. It’s a way of centering their mate and making them feel safe. The other large part of a rut was the, well, sex part. They needed to make sure their mate was thoroughly marked as their own, and that meant overloading them with their scent and pheromones so no one could mistake that they were already claimed. That also usually meant impregnating them, no better way to claim your mate than that.

“Sylus…” You knew this was something you were going to have to deal with one day but you hadn’t realized it was so soon. Dragons didn’t have regular mating seasons, it was random for each. If you had been paying more attention you would have realized his was upon him. The signs were there. The clingingness, the pampering, the gifts. They were all behaviors dragons exhibited before rut to earn the approval of their mate and let them know they wanted to breed.

“Sylus, I need you to slow down a second.” you managed to get out.

Pulling away from you looked as if it physically pained him. He was breathing hard as he stared at you. “Yes?”

“Are you in rut right now?” you asked, wanting to make sure this is what was absolutely happening.

He nodded. “Meant to talk to you…” his grip on you tightened. “Hard to think straight.”

“Are you…” you swallowed back the nervousness in your voice. “Are you trying to breed me?”

Hearing the word breed he pressed himself closer to your body. You could feel his hard cock pressing against you. “Yes.” he put his mouth back on your neck. “Fucking hells…want to fuck you. Want to breed you. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“I see…” a rush of warmth spread through you getting the confirmation.

“If you don’t want to you have to tell me now.” he muttered against your skin. “Because when I start I’m not going to be able to stop.” he kept grinding against you. “Need you so bad. Need to have you reeking of me.”

You wrapped your arms around him. “I want to. It’s alright.” you pulled his head back up to look you in the eyes. His gaze was intense and desperate but he was still him behind those glazed eyes. Probably not for long though. “I love you and I want to have a baby with you. Fuck me. Fill me up until you get me pregnant. Please. Please Sylus, I want you to breed me.”

That snapped the last thread of control he had. He crushed his mouth to yours and dragged you over to the dais. His claws dug into the fabric of your clothes and raked them down your back, shredding what you wore to rags. You gave a small squeak of surprise as you felt the ribbons of fabric fall off you. He picked you off your feet and sat your naked ass on the cold smooth stone.

He was wasting no time. But either out of desperation or a humane part of him that was still in control, instead of immediately sinking himself into you he took a knee, threw your legs over his shoulders and started devouring your pussy. He was at least attempting to ready your cunt before he started fucking you. It really was not needed though. The moment you had realized he was in rut you had felt yourself getting excited.

He lapped up what arousal was already staining your thighs and when you were even wetter than you were he shrugged your legs off and stood. He hovered over you, hastily undoing his pants to free his cock. He hadn’t bothered taking them off entirely and instead spread your legs wide and pushed on your chest so you were laying flat on the dais.

Sylus paused, his hand drifting lower to your stomach. “Gonna put a baby in here. Gonna see you swell with my seed. Want to see it so bad.”

He shoved himself into your heat, moaning loudly as he filled and stretched you. “Want to look in your eyes when I get you pregnant.” he began thrusting, holding your hips down as he pistoned in and out of you. “Ah fuck! Gonna fuck a baby into you. Gonna breed you over and over--ah!”

“Sylus!” your whole body was being jostled by the force of his thrusts. If it wasn’t for him holding you in place you were sure you would have slid off the other end of the dais. “Fuck Sylus! Please!”

“Say it!” he growled. “Fucking say it! Need to hear you say it again!”

“Oh gods! Please Sylus! Please! Fuck a baby into me! Breed me! Please!” you begged. Your cunt squeezed down tight around him as the filthy damning words came out of your mouth. You wanted it! You wanted it so damn bad!

He bent close to kiss you hungrily, his thrusts getting faster as he chased his own release. “Gonna do it. Gonna fill you up so much, little bird.” he muttered in a harsh whisper against your lips. ��Fill my mate up so much it’ll be leaking out of you for days. Gonna fucking breed this pussy. Fuck!”

He grabbed your hand and pushed it between your bodies so you were touching your clit. “Play with yourself. I want you to come when I breed you.”

You swiped at your clit, pushing your body headfirst into your orgasm. Your cunt clenched and spasmed around his cock and it was enough to finally undo him as well. A hot warmth spread through your cunt as he came deep inside you. He didn’t stop thrusting as he was coming, his com coating his own cock as he kept pushing into you until finally his body slowed and he stopped.

Your legs were shaking but otherwise you were fine. That wasn’t as bad as you thought it would have been. It was definitely intense. When you imagined a dragon rut you were expecting more of a--

Before you could finish the thought Sylus pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach, bending you over the dais. He kicked your legs out so you were spread wide and slammed back into you. Oh gods, you were still going?

His hips bounced off your ass as he railed into you from behind. “Gotta put more in you.” he stressed through clenched teeth. “Need to fill you up.”

“Sy--Sylus, I--ah!” your body was still sensitive from the last orgasm and the way he was pounding you was driving you towards another at a frightening pace.

“Wanna plug up this pussy with my cock. Keep you sat on it all day and just come in you constantly until you’re bred.” he was panting hard. His hands were around your hips to keep you in place and you didn’t know if what you felt trickling down the outside of your thighs was sweat or blood from where his claws broke past your skin. You knew what was sliding down the inside of your thighs at least.

The combination of his cum and your arousal made it so he could glide in and out easily. Your pussy had been stretched to a raw red hole leaking with cum and you knew all he could think about was adding more. Overloading you until you were pregnant. Until he had bred you.

You tried to find some purchase but your feet were slipping on the gold coins scattered around the dais. Fuck you were going to come again! A ripple shot up your spine and left your mouth as a loud cry as you came again. “Sylus!”

“Fuck yes!” he lifted your hips up a bit to meet you at a deeper angle. “Ah fuck yes! Feel so fucking good! Gonna cum in you again. Gonna breed you so good so no one can take you!”

Tears leaked from your eyes as the overstimulation started to fray at your nerves. Your body felt like it was vibrating. You were tripping between pain and pleasure as every thrust, every little touch sent a jolt of electricity across your skin.

“Sylus…” your voice was weak, only able to moan and whine. “Please. Please. Please!”

You weren’t even sure what you were begging for. You wanted something but your brain was nothing but mush. All you could focus on was the tingling along your skin, the burning friction between your legs, the wet slapping sounds of your bodies, and Sylus moaning as he fucked you.

“I’ll give you anything you want.” his voice had deepened, dropping into a growl, “Just get pregnant. Fuck! Please! Get pregnant! Get pregnant! Get pregnant! Get pregnant! Get fucking pregnant!”

He shot into you again, his body stilling as he pumped more of his seed into your already spent and coated cunt. You turned your head to look at him and saw his eyes screwed shut tight, face pinched with concentration, and his body glistening with sweat. When his eyes opened and looked at you they were still glowing red. Oh gods above was he not done?

His eyes roamed over your body lazily before locking in on where you were still joined. There was a deep rumble in his chest that sounded like a growl. He grabbed your ass and parted your cheeks to get a better look. Whatever shreds of Sylus had been there while he was fucking you before had evaporated and you saw a feral animal staring back at you. And his cock was still rock hard and hot in your pussy.

In an instant, without pulling out he pushed your body further up the dais so your feet left the ground. His arms bracketed on either side of you, claws digging into the stone as he laid planked against your back. Then he started rutting against you. No large thrusts, just rutting shallowly over and over.

His breath was hot in your ear as he panted, no longer even speaking. Your hands found the lip of the dais and held on for dear life, nails scratching at the stone. Short keening whines fell from your lips.

Too much! Too sensitive! Sylus wasn’t giving you any break between orgasms, if he even noticed them at all. He was too far gone in his own world. You tried to breath, to squirm away to give yourself a second to breathe but you were thoroughly pinned underneath him.

You whimpered and moaned, unable to stop the orgasm from drawing steadily closer again. Hot tears were streaming down your face. It felt good! It felt too good! You’d never been driven this far into pleasure before and that was saying something considering how often you and Sylus had sex.

You cried out and it must have sounded enough like you were in pain that Sylus stopped. Maybe you were in pain. You couldn’t fucking tell anymore!

“Need to stop?” he asked, his voice quiet and tense with control. He brushed the tears away from your eyes. “Hurting you?”

You shook your head. “Good…feels good…” you took a second to breathe until the worst of your trembling had abated. “I’m good now. Keep going.”

“Certain?” he asked. You could feel his cock twitching inside you. His body was shaking with the need to move. Yet he was still checking on you.

“I’m certain. Keep fucking me.” you said, taking in a shaky breath. “Breed me. Please Sylus. Breed my pussy!”

His hands stretched and covered yours where you were holding onto the edge of the dias. Then he began fucking you again, rutting even faster.

The top of the mountain must have broken off because you swore you were seeing stars. You had no idea that sex could feel this good! “Ah yes! Yes! Yes! Fucking hell yes! Sylus!” you chanted his name over and over. “Come with me! Please!” your voice slurred. “Want you to come with me Sylus!”

His hands gripped yours tighter.  Your toes curled, your eyes shut, and you screamed in pleasure as you came again. Your brain had fully left your body and you were floating in the heavens. The only thing you could hear was the deafening roar that left Sylus as he came in you a third and final time.

You were shaking violently, your body still hyper-sensitive and crashing through wave after wave of arousal. Sylus was shuddering on top of you. You could feel his forehead pressing against the back of your skull, his breath tickling your damp neck as he came back to reality with you. The warmth between your legs was red hot but you finally felt his dick going soft again.

As gently as he was capable he rolled to his side, taking you with him. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“Yeah…I think so…shit…” your body was limp and useless now.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “You were crying awfully hard.”

“Felt too good.” you told him. “But I’m alright. I promise.”

“I’m going to pull out now. Deep breath.” he said, pressing a reassuring kiss to the back of your neck. He pulled you off his dick and you cried out again. A flood of warmth spilled out of your cunt, no longer plugged up by Sylus’s cock. “It’s alright, I’m right here. You’re alright.” he spoke soothingly.

His hands rubbed up and down your arms. Like massaging out a sore muscle he was simultaneously activating and banishing the sensitivity lingering over your body. “Sorry for being so rough with you.” he said, kissing your temples. “It was hard to keep cognizant during it. It wasn’t until you reeked of me that I started to come back to my senses.”

“It was vigorous, I will say that much.” your body had melted against him and you turned in his arms so you could look at him. It was hard to do considering how sore your body still was and Sylus helped move you. He wrapped his arms around you, and even his tail had curled around your leg.

“I had meant to talk to you about ruts before this happened. I thought I had more time.” he said. “How did you know I was in rut?”

“Found a book in the village that detailed a lot about dragon mating practices, including ruts.” you nestled into his chest, “I would have liked a little more warning but you live and you learn.”

“You did so well. Love you so much.” he kissed you gently. “Do you think you’ll be alright for the rest of the rut?”

Your eyes went wide. “What do you mean the ‘rest of the rut?’ Did we not just finish?”

“Guess that book you found didn’t tell you everything.” he smirked. “Dragon ruts don’t end after getting off one time--”

“I think you got off like three times.”

Sylus rolled his eyes. “Dragon ruts can last over a week, sometimes even an entire month.”

Your jaw dropped. “A month? Are you saying that you are going to fuck me like that everyday for a month?”

“A month is an extreme case, most likely I’ll only be like this for a week.”

“Still! Why is it so long? I think you more than got me pregnant today!”

“And the rut doesn’t stop until I know for sure. I’ll be able to smell the change.” his hand drifted down to rest against your stomach. “Usually takes a week to be able to tell so that’s why it lasts that long.”

“I see.” you took in a deep breath. Your rested your hand over his. “This…this is really happening, isn’t it? We’re going to have a baby.”

The smile nearly split his face. “Yes. I know that you said yes when we started but is this truly what you want? To have and carry my children? There’s every chance that you didn’t get pregnant so if you want to wait we can wait. The rut will pass on its own.”

“I want this. I can’t wait to start a family with you.” you kissed him again, joyful tears brimming in your eyes.

“Neither can I.” he pulled your thigh over his hip. “Good thing too cause I’m ready to take you again.”

“Oh dear gods above.”

[justanothermemestrider]

40k Sfw Alphabet: Perturabo

As per the poll, Peter T is next for the alphabet series! I have a particular and peculiar soft spot for this man. I don't fully understand why, but it did make writing this one a lot of fun.

I apologise for any spelling errors, ooc moments and grammatical mistakes. If you guys have any requests for future headcanons or fics, please send them thru!

Otherwise, please enjoy :)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Showing affection does not come easily to Perturabo, but that does not make him an unaffectionate person. All his life, he's been starved of unconditional compassion, and that has hardened his heart. But beneath all of that is a man who craves affection. Perty may not be willing to admit it to himself, but that doesn't stop it from being true. And when you suddenly. come along, showing him that yes, there are people in this world who can and will love him for him, not for how he might serve them, those walls around his heart will begin to erode.

After that, Perty will show his affection for you through gifts and acts of service. You will never be left wanting for anything, and often you will return to your shared home to find a new ornament, music box, fidget toy or other such trinket left out for you. Handcrafted by your husband to assure you that, while he struggles with words and physical touch, he loves you in his own way.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Have you guys seen those memes on Instagram and/or tiktok about the mean-girl-who's-actually-a-girl's-girl? You know, someone who looks and acts all mean and judgy, but in a pinch will absolutely step up to help a friend in need? I see Perturabo being that kind of best friend.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Perty doesn't like cuddling but for your sake he will... tolerate it. He might grumble and complain, but he'd never deny you. When you do cuddle, he's a big spoon all the way, holding you from behind or lift you up onto his chest, resting his arms around you like weighted blankets. Secretly, he craves physical touch, but he's way too prideful to ever admit it.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Perturabo's biggest want in life is to be seen as something other than a war machine. He wants to build what he wants, to live how he wants, and he wants to do so without judgement. So, absolutely, I can see Perty wanting to settle down. Eventually, he wants a calm, peaceful life where he can build toys instead of tanks and playhouses instead of siege weapons.

Also, he would be a fantastic house husband. So long as you show him the right amount of appreciation for what he does, he would love nothing more than to stay at home, build his contraptions and be left to do his own thing. Side note: if you were the bread winner of the pairing, Perty's pride might be hurt on instinct, but I could see him getting over it. He would see that your going out and earning a living for your both gives him the time he needs for all the little projects he's been wanting to work on.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Yikes. I mean, there are definately worse 40k characters to break up with, but Perty is definately up there. Expect a lot of shouting, a lot of insults and so, so much pettiness. It's not because he actually means any of it, though: it's all to cover up how heart broken he is.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Perturabo is absolutely lives by commitment, and this extends to your relationship. Once he's squared enough of his demons away to understand that he loves you, he's never going to want to let you go. Your engagement ring will be the finest, most intricate piece of jewelry ever crafted by a human hand, as would be your wedding bands, dress and veil. In a compete reversal of tradition, Perty would demand to take full charge of planning the wedding. The stress of trying to ensure that everything will be perfect, though, would have the poor man ripping the cables out of his scalp, so be prepared to give him ample moral support.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Contrary to popular belief, and his own exterior persona, Perturabo is surprisingly good at being gentle. It's doesn't come naturally: particularly with the emotional side of things, he has to make a concerted effort. But like everything he does, when Perty puts his mind to something, he is always staggeringly competent at it.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Much like cuddles, Perty doesn't like hugs, but for your sake he will tolerate them. And if he can see that you are upset, ill or otherwise under the weather, he will initiate the embrace in order to comfort you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Not very fast. Not very fast at all. I do think that, eventually, he would muster up the courage to say it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

In my humble opinion, Perturabo is the most jealous of the primarchs. And this is because he's easily the most insecure. Any indication that another man might MIGHT be interested in you, Perty is spiralling. In these moments, he will be angry, not at you mind you, but rather the offending male. He will need your every reassurance and bit of praise.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

At first, Perturabo's kisses are stiff and mechanical. He doesn't really know what he's doing, and such intimate physical touch makes him feel awkward and uncomfortable. Once he gets over that, though, his kisses become hard, aggressive and overpowering. They'll make your jaw ache and lips swell up.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Terrible at interacting with children, absolutely unrivalled at making the things that children like or need. Toys, cribs, cradles, mobiles, walkers and everything in between, Perturabo can and enjoys to make.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Perturabo is almost never in bed when you wake up. He's always up early so as to get ahead of his work. When you eventually get up, though, you'll usually find a plate of freshly-made breakfast waiting for you in the kitchen.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Perturabo rarely sleeps first- you'll be already half asleep by the time he finally makes it to bed. It's during these late night moments, when he is feeling tired, peaceful and a little horny, that he is the most physically affectionate. He will kiss your neck, pull you into his chest and simply enjoy the feel of your body and your energy.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Perturabo is far from keen to reveal things about himself to you. The surface level things, sure, but anything deeper than where he lives and what he likes to do in his spare time, he's more than hesitant to share. This is for two reasons: one, his past is a dark thing, not a lot there that he likes to relive. And two, many of the things he's done in the past, he is ashamed of, and he has a lot of regrets. With his insecurities already being neck-high, he can't bear the thought of you knowing about them, lest you think less of him or even decide he is not worth your love.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Perturabo's temper has an infamously short fuse, and that doesn't change when he's with you. If he's stressed, tired or pissed off, it's gonna be your problem as much as his. Just don't take it to heart because it's not your fault. It's never your fault. And if he says something that might insinuate that, he will make it up to you with a special gift or gesture (he's not yet mature enough to say sorry, so he's gotta show it).

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Perturabo is as detail orientated a person as you could get. Therefore, he remembers everything about you. Even the weirdest, most mundane things. Like the way you tend to hold a knife and fork. How long exactly you tend to brush your teeth for. Random stuff like that, he just remembers. His knowledge of your habits and quirks is near-encyclopedic.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

I know this is the sfw alphabet, but for this one I gotta say it's the first time you two shared a bed. It was Perry's first time, and let me tell you, it changed him. And it was thanks to the clarity and peacefulness of the afterglow that he was able to finally admit to himself (and to you) that yes, he does in fact love you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Perturabo is hyper protective. Partially out of jealousy, partially out of fear for your safety. You are literally the only good thing that's even happened to him. You're the one person who has given him the affection, validation and appreciation that he has needed ever since he was a little boy. If anything happened to you... Perturabo can't even bear to think about it.

As for Perty himself, he needs you to protect his heart. Specifically, his self esteem and his self worth. He won't ever ask for it, but you'll be able to tell when he needs a kind word or loving touch.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

All of these fall under acts of service. Therefore, Perturabo excels at all of them.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

I think all of Perturabo's problems can be catagorized as a lack of emotional maturity and a very damaged, weakened sense of self worth. His relationship with you forces him to become self aware of these issues, but it is a monumentous task overcoming them.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not really at all. Perturabo cares only for functionality, not fashion.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yup. See P for some elaboration as to why.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Perty talks in his sleep. Soft little mumblings and coos that are entirely incoherent and totally, utterly cute. He doesn't even know he does it.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Honestly? Perty wouldn't like being with someone who reminded him of him. He needs an opposite; someone who balances him out rather than matches him. If it wasn't that, then the relationship would crumble under the weight of bad tempers, insecurity and emotional deregulation.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Perturabo's sleep schedule is almost non existent. Seriously the man hardly sleeps at all. Often times, when night time rolls around and it's time for you to go to sleep, he'll lift you into his lap and let you sleep there, pressed back against his chest or curled up on your side using his arm as a pillow, while he continues working on whatever pet project he's got going at that moment.

Taglist: @solspina @beckyninja @egrets-not-regrets @wolf-feathers12 @jaghatai-khock @lemon-russ @moodymisty

[k-s-morgan]

I have to say I am so …..surprised and amazed how strong person you are. With all troubles you are going through, you said you had best celebration of new year? I am following your posts all time and I know all bad things that happened to you, as the war itself is not enough, but you still have strength to write, to be okay, to have fun....if anything means to you, you gave motivation to person who are struggling with mental health. If you are okay then I have no other option but to be okay as well🙌And I'll try to look at every single good thing that happened to me and appreciate it.

What inspiration you are💕May luck follow you, be well🙏🙏🙏

Thank you so very much for your supportive words! Your ask is so touching, I really appreciate you sending it. Especially since I often don't feel strong - I'm the weakest link in my family in this regard. My family members tend to simply do their thing when there are explosions outside - cooking, reading something, cleaning, etc. I'm the only one hiding in the corner and shaking like a leaf. When we know there are missiles incoming in several hours, everyone sleeps fine while I can't sleep at all, my body keeps waking me up every 15 minutes in panic.

But I do know that such things are deeply subjective, and honestly, I'm proud of myself for staying sane at all, especially considering how badly I react to everything war-related. I learned to live in a moment and enjoy every peaceful minute I get, and it's been really helping.

I wish you all the strength, hope, and resilience. Thank you again for reaching out, and hopefully, this new year will be a little kinder to us <3

[writingdevil]

STP Prompt

(This is a ContraCold request made by @saranorah228 -I love this duo and their fun dynamic.Enjoy!)

It was snowing,and Contrarian demanded to go outside.

They haven't experienced much snow in their lives, and Contrarian was determined to make the most of it.

While the others were more concerned about heating their home up and not getting barricaded in by snow,Contrarian dragged the first person who he knew would want and appreciate a snow day-Cold.

He giggled in glee as he gripped Cold's hand, marching outside,and feeling how the snow crunched beneath his feet.Cold hadn't said much, but Contrarian saw him take one look outside the window,and his eyes lit up,and then Contrarian was shoving him outside.

They walked out until they were far enough away from the house,and he stopped and spun around, feeling snowflakes stick to his feathers.

He giggled uncontrollably,catching a glimpse of Cold,who was busy staring straight up at the sky, and the snow dotted around his feathers in a way that kind of made him look like a weird yet pretty snow creature.Cool.

As dizziness took ahold of him,he stumbled over to the other,leaning against his side as he asked,"Do you feel at home,buddy?"

Cold just made a questioning noise,putting his arm out and watching the snow hit his feathers,and Contrarian noticed how they puffed up at the contact.

"How do you mean?"Cold finally asked,and Contrarian managed to shove the dizziness away to stand up properly and say,"Well,you're Cold-you're basically in your element here!"

Cold smiled softly at him,and that did something funny to Contrarian's stomach,so he switched his attention to the snow.

He started by stomping around,kicking his feet up and giggling as the snow was thrown about across the field."This stuff is weird!"Contrarian exclaimed over his shoulder."It kinda looks fluffy,don't you think?"

"Skeptic said that he thinks it might actually just be frozen water from the sky,"Cold said,and then Contrarian was stunned as Cold stuck his tongue out to taste the snow.

A blush suddenly exploded across Contrarian's face,and he forced himself to look away,crouching down to touch the snow with his hands.His body shook,but he wasn't sure if it was from the bitter weather,so he just kept focusing on the weird feeling of the snow-light yet solid enough to bunch up in his palm.

He held a small pile of it,then smiled as he let it drift down through the gaps in his fingers.Then-he got an idea.

He used every fibre of his being to stop any laughter from coming out,glancing over his shoulder to see Cold with his arm out,inspecting the shaking of his fingers and they were starting to look paler than before.

He was distracted.Good.

He worked quickly,spreading his wings out to block Cold from seeing what he was doing.He slowly stood up when he was finished,glancing over his shoulder to see Cold about to crouch and touch the snow like he had.

Before he could though,Contrarian shouted, "Hey, Cold!"and the biggest grin spread across Contrarian's face,as his arm shot out,and he clocked Cold right in the face.

There was a single second,where pure shock took over the bird's usually blank face,before Contrarian burst out laughing.

He clutched his stomach as laughter practically erupted out of him,and he ducked his head to avoid any heated glares that Cold may send him.But come on!How many times can someone say that they've genuinely caught Cold that off guard before?It was unheard of!

Contrarian was only beginning to feel a sense of pride at being one of the few birds to accomplish that,when he suddenly felt something hit his head.

He snorted,expecting this,and he lifted his head, only for another snowball to hit him in the face.He stumbled backwards,as one,two,three-fucking hell Cold was good at this-four snowballs hit him in the face.

His face was beginning to go numb,so he quickly waved his arms out and yelled,"Okay,I'm sorry,I yield!I yield!"

There was a pause,and Contrarian dared to open his eyes,finding Cold staring at him in soft amusement,a snowball resting in the palm of his hand.They held each other's gazes for a few seconds,before Cold silently lowered his arm, looking down at the snowball instead.Contrarian found himself a little disappointed that the moment ended so quickly.

But then he noticed the way Cold was eying up the snow in his hand,and he couldn't stop himself from chanting,"Do it!Do it!Do it!"So without any further motivation,Cold bit into the snowball.

Contrarian rushed over to him,cackling as he watch Cold's face for any more changes.His hands reached out to softly grip Cold's arm without even thinking about it,and he watched as Cold furrowed his brows in deep thought-before his expression completely fell with disappointment.

"It just becomes water in your mouth,"Cold said with slumped shoulders.Contrarian's smile also fell as he went,"Aw,really?"and then picked up some snow for him to try himself.

He attempted to chew it,but just as Cold said-it just dissolved on his tongue.

"Well that's boring,"Contrarian said,letting water dribble out of his mouth,and making Cold chuckle softly.

He liked that sound.He liked being the one to make Cold sound like that.

Contrarian rubbed his mouth clean,and the two of them just stood there,taking a moment to watch the snow fall around them.

It was really pretty.Contrarian never thought that something so pretty and so fun could fall from the sky.His mind was already going through all the pranks he could pull on the others,and then some were just fun things to do in the snow.Like-what other things could they make with the snow?What did the snow do to other things like trees and lakes and-

Contrarian didn't know when it happened,but at some point,his attention had drifted from the snow, and onto Cold.

He had a peaceful,almost soft expression on his face,and he kept his gaze up at the sky,his shiny feathers sticking out amongst all the white snow.

-and all he knew was that he wanted to make sure that Cold enjoyed every minute of this.

His face heated up,and his feathers puffed up,and Contrarian had no idea what this fluttering feeling in his stomach was,but it was so different than anything else he's felt before.He wants to ignore it, but he had a feeling that ignoring it meant ignoring Cold,and Contrarian could never bring himself to do that.

He sighed in frustration at himself,before he noticed what happened when he did that.

"Hey look!"Contrarian exclaimed in excitement, hardly able to contain his joy as Cold turned to look at him.Contrarian bunched his hands into fists and squeezed as he revealed,"Look!I'm just like you now!"and then he let a big exhale out,and grinned at how he could now see his own breath.

Cold's eyes widened slightly,with snow still clinging to the feathers on his face,and he let a breath of his own out,his signature frost floating out around them.

Contrarian began to bounce on the spot,and then his heart pounded at the way Cold smiled down at him,as if amused by his reaction.

But then Contrarian froze in shock as Cold leaned in closer to whisper,"That is interesting."

The dark glint in his eyes told Contrarian that Cold may not be talking about the snow anymore.

[sniixnn]

they get high and kiss i think

[monstermoviedean]

if you have a good vibe/kind thought to spare and could send it my way. i'd really appreciate it.

[dollfacefantasy]

CRY IF I WANT TO ♡

pairing: negan x fem!reader

summary: life has been different since you've been taken to the sanctuary. you're not sure how you fit in here. some may call you one of the wives, but you don't think that's accurate. maybe his pet? his doll? as the days pass, you're not sure it really matters. the distinction doesn't get you any closer to escape.

cw: nsfw (18+), dark fic, smut, dubcon, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), kidnapping/captivity, stockholm syndrome, coercion, forced ddlg/daddy kink, humiliation kink, dacryphilia, violence (from negan, simon, and reader), hurt/comfort sorta

wc: 10.9k (oops lol)

a/n: ermmm... hehe yeah. i've been wanting to write this so i hope someone likes it. reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated <3

kinktober slot: day 13 - mindbreak (i think)

"Rise and shine, little lady. We got a lot of things to do today."

Your eyes flutter open, the bright light from the window in front of you broken up by the silhouette of the man at your bedside. The sight of him, even just the outline of his body, sends a nauseating crackle of dread through your bones. It's a feeling you can't verbalize of course - not if you want this day to resemble any sort of pleasant.

"There she is," Negan says, speaking with his signature cadence that made you want to rip out your hair, "How'd you sleep, babydoll?"

"Fine," you rasp as you slowly sit up. The mornings were the only time you could get away with dull answers like that. Any small bit of attitude could be blamed on you being 'cranky' rather than feelings of hatred that hadn't been broken down by this point.

He smiles at you, his rough hand cupping your jaw.

"You're so pretty in the mornings," he mumbles, sweeping a thumb over your pouty bottom lip.

You pause for a second, but so does he. Like he expects a reply. Unfortunately, you know the words he wants to hear. Swallowing the last sliver of dignity you have, you force out the response you'd been trained to say over the last however-long.

"Thank you, daddy."

He grins even wider if that's possible and pats your head. "You're welcome. Now let's get you dressed. Like I said, daddy's got a lot to do today."

You get out of bed and follow him over to the dresser that held your outfit for the day. The chill of cold air bites at your legs as the lack of blankets leaves them exposed. The generator had been out for the past day or so, leaving the Sanctuary victim to the harsh Winter raging outside. You were hoping he'd take that into account when picking your clothes, but you didn't hold out too much hope.

The two of you shuffle around the gray furniture of Negan's room. Even though you'd been in here more times than you could count now, you still marveled at the quality of the chairs and sofa. Items like these seemed luxurious with how the world was outside these walls.

When you reach the dresser, you follow the routine you'd become used to. You peel the small shirt you're permitted to sleep in off and drop it in the basket nearby. Your panties are next to go. You pull the dainty garment down and toss it to the same place as your top.

You can feel his eyes on you with every move you make. They watch how your breasts bounce when freed from their confines. They admire the curve of your ass when you bend over. They glimmer with smug satisfaction as you stand there nude before him.

"I'll tell you what. I never get sick of seeing this," he teases.

You offer a weak smile in return. The lack of energy almost seems to please him more.

He walks around to stand behind you, giving you a light pat on the ass as he does. His hands land on your hips first and then slide up to cup your breasts. He pulls you back, positioning you flush against his chest.

"You know I'd keep you like this all the time if I could," he murmurs in your ear, "Sweet and ready for me. Ripe for the pickin' whenever I felt the need."

The deep, gravelly rumble of it seems to trigger a flicker of heat in your lower belly on instinct, and you despise yourself for it. Shame burns so hot in your heart, it threatens to take the nausea you felt earlier into a full on dry heave. You're glad there's not a mirror in front of you. It's easier to keep a docile look plastered on your face when you don't have to stare yourself in the eyes.

The rough pads of his fingertips pinch and tweak your nipples, causing you to squirm a bit where you're standing, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of a noise. You can feel the warmth of his breath fanning across your neck.

You choose not to say anything to his last statement. There's no guarantee that he hasn't actually considered that, and you don't want to find out. Displaying you in that way in front of everyone doesn't seem like his style, but back when he had you lined up on your knees with the rest of your group, you wouldn't have imagined yourself ever calling him daddy either.

As you'd quickly learned in regards to most things around here, the risk just isn't worth it.

"I'd never do that to you though. Don't think anyone could keep their hands off if they saw all of you, and I just can't have that," he whispers, calming your fears for you. He pulls his hands away from your breasts and steps back to grab the pieces he'd be putting you in today.

He starts with panties. This pair is pink and ruffly just like the last. You step into it with rehearsed timing. One foot then the next. He slides them up to your hips and lets the elastic snap into place against your skin.

You had no clue where he got this shit. You didn't want to believe that his hold on his men was so strong that they'd waste an entire supply run raiding a Victoria's Secret, especially for women they never even got to touch.

It wasn't worth thinking about though. It's not like discovering the origins would spare you from wearing the damn things every day.

Next, Negan shakes the wrinkles out of your dress. You step into that too, just like you did with the underwear. Looking down, you catch a glimpse of the garment.

It's just as humiliating as all the rest he makes you wear. The fabric is bright white and baby pink. Like everything else, you have no idea how it was kept so pristine. The waist is accentuated with a pretty pink ribbon wrapped around it, tied into a large bow at the front. It's extra tight up top and melts into a puffy skirt down below.

He shimmies it over your body and yanks the zipper up in back. The dress conforms to the shape of your figure, leaving little to the imagination in terms of how much the neckline shows and how high the hem of the skirt sits.

Spinning you around, he whistles when he gets the full picture.

"Good God Almighty. Pretty as a picture," he praises, reaching out to pinch your cheek.

Again, you force yourself to smile.

He'd already dressed himself for the day before getting you up, so the rest of the time before you leave the room is spent working through the remnants of your morning routine. He takes you into the bathroom connected to his room to brush your teeth and do your hair.

"Say ah, sweetheart," he smirks before jamming the brush into your mouth.

He's not careful or attentive. He only does it long enough to let the weight of humiliation settle in your stomach. It's always obvious when it kicks in. You get this look on your face like that of an abandoned puppy. Only then does he let you spit and move on to the next task.

He styles your hair into something cute, though you hate it anyway. Like the dress, it's only intended to make you stick out. To draw attention to your status as his possession.

The last thing he does is put your socks and shoes on. Your feet get covered in a pair of frilly ankle socks before he slips a pair of chunky sneakers on you. At least if this place got overrun and you had to bolt, you wouldn't be totally fucked.

"You ready to go, honey?" he asks you when the first part of your torture has finally come to a conclusion.

Again, you nod while looking up at him.

He grins at you. "You're quiet today," he says.

"Sorry, daddy," you respond. The way he said it sounded like teasing, but you could never be too careful.

"Don't be. I like it," he says.

You don't know how he does it, how he deflates you so easily without even trying.

He turns and grabs that stupid bat he carries everywhere, swinging it to his side before facing you again and sticking out his hand.

"Got my two favorite girls, now we're really ready to go," he says. He gestures with his fingers. A small impatient reminder. "You know the rules."

Of course you know what he's referring to. Always hold daddy's hand when you leave the bedroom. One of the rules he'd prattled off to you when he first brought you here.

You reach out and take his outstretched hand, earning a kiss to your head.

The way he'd been holding his arm caused the leather sleeve of his jacket to ride up a bit. Beneath the stiff fabric, you could see the fading scar you'd given him around the same time you'd been informed of the rules. Two crescent shaped marks in the pattern of your teeth.

You can barely stand to look at it now. All it does is bring back memories of when you still held hope for escape or rescue. Back then, you'd thought it'd only be a matter of days until Rick or Michonne burst into the small bedroom they were keeping you in.

The day you'd sunk your teeth into him, he'd just finished giving you one of his speeches about your new life at the Sanctuary. According to him, you'd be so much happier here. Sure you couldn't see your family, but now you had someone better than them. You had him. And he would spoil and take care of a pretty thing like you in the way you deserved. Show off to the rest of your old group how generous he could be.

He'd reached forward to pinch your cheek just like he'd done earlier today. You wanted to smack him away, but he had your hands bound. So you did the next thing you could think of and bit him. Hard.

His eyes burned with fury you hadn't seen since. You can still hear in your mind the way he yelled, shouting "Goddamn it" so loud that the walkers out at the fence probably heard.

After that was a bit hazy. He'd snatched that limb away from you before bringing it back and striking you hard across the cheek. You'd nearly fallen off the bed from the force.

"You little bitch, you try some shit like that again, and I'll knock your fucking jaw loose," he growled before yanking you up right and forcing you to look at him.

Involuntary tears leaked from your eyes as you glared up at his face. Blood oozed from the stinging wound you could feel inside your mouth.

That cut had healed by now though.

You squeeze his hand harder while walking down the hall out of his room. Even though it was the hand that struck you, it was the only thing you had to hold onto now. 

Your brain tries to compartmentalize him nowadays. There's Negan, and there's daddy. Negan is the one who gets mean. Negan is the one who yells. Negan is the one who killed your friends. Daddy is the one who cares for you. He keeps you safe and healthy. He'd never hurt you like that. You didn't think you'd survive with a shred of sanity without that distinction.

He feels your little grip and squeezes your hand in return. That's what daddy does.

You stay close to his side as he guides you on the walkway that looks down on the commotion of the main room. Even after what you guessed had been a couple months, if not more, you still didn't like this place. Everything was so transactional. No one cared about each other. It was all about what everyone had to offer. That was by design of course, but it didn't make you any less critical of it.

Your eyes scan the clusters of people below. Although you weren't allowed to socialize on your own, you were starting to get a grasp on the cliques here. Negan's closest advisors all seemed to amalgamate in one area, spare the guy with the burnt face. The table closest to the window was where most of the soldiers ate while the one by the door seated the workers.

You weren't completely sure what class you fit into here.

The most obvious guess would be the group you're about to encounter, Negan's wives. But there are stark differences between you and them that prevent you from feeling camaraderie.

The two of you approach the room where he keeps this group of women. He maintains a tight grip on your hand as you slip through the doors. The disparities between you and the others become obvious as soon as you're within a few feet of them.

All of these women get to dress in black. They stand tall in heels, have earrings dangling next to their faces, and for some, a red tint painting their lips. All of them get to openly glare at him. They don't have to hide their hatred behind a feigned smile or soft laugh.

You know it isn't right to be jealous of them. They're suffering too. This isn't a happy situation for them either. But god, you can't help it. Envy nearly sears a hole through your heart every time you come into this room. What you wouldn't give to be one of them. To be allowed to drink and talk with other people. To not be under the constant threat of punishment.

Despite all these thoughts swirling through your head, you manage to keep your mask on. A simple, thoughtless look on your features as you stand next to him like an oversized accessory.

He looks down at you before dropping your hand.

"Stay right here for me, sweet thing. Daddy's only gonna take a minute," he says.

He stalks off to the back corner of the room with a woman you'd come to learn is named Sherry. They speak in hushed tones, so you can't make out what they're saying. You figure it's about one of the girls sneaking around with some other guy. That's what it's usually about when he makes a stop here with you in tow. Even with their status elevated above yours, they don't get to escape the wrath of his possessiveness.

You stand there awkwardly, arms crossed over your midsection while your weight shifts between your feet. No one tries to talk to you. You can feel their eyes on your pastel form, but their gazes don't hold curiosity or interest. It's pity.

In the beginning, you thought they were looking at you with jealousy. After all, you got your own cell and then graduated to Negan's bedroom while they had to share amenities.

But they weren't naive like you had been. None of them wanted Negan's attention. They didn't want to be his pet or his dolly or whatever the fuck he would classify you as. They had each other, and they got to share the load between all of them.

You sigh quietly and look down at the sparkly trim of your white sneakers.

He finishes his conversation with Sherry and then migrates across the room towards a blonde, crying girl. They speak at the same volume as him and Sherry. It's not worth trying to eavesdrop on.

Instead, you patiently wait the couple minutes it takes for them to finish up and for him to return to you. When he walks back over, you can tell the discussion hadn't been a positive one. His shoulders seem weighed down by whatever information he'd gathered from them.

But the dark cloud above him fades away as his hand slips back into yours. He leads you out of the room just as you'd come in and continues walking with you.

You hesitate but decide to try. "Are you ok?" you ask softly.

His head turns slightly to cast you a look. For a moment, it seems the daddy act has fallen away. He looks at you like he would any other woman who asked him that. Cold. Analytical. But the persona makes its reappearance seconds later as he pulls on a smirk for you.

"Just fine, honey. You don't gotta worry about me," he answers.

You know you should just nod and shut up, but it drives you crazy being led around like a child expected to be seen and not heard. So you decide to try again.

"Did they do something bad?" you ask. You hate how weak your voice comes out. There's no spark to it, no bite or sharp edge. All of that, he'd extinguished in you.

He drops your hand and drapes his arm over your shoulders, pulling you to his side.

"What are you so curious for, huh? You know something about it?" he responds.

You shake your head. Your arm rises and wraps around his torso.

"No. I just don't like when you're upset," you say. You lean your head into his chest to really sell it.

"Oh-ho, look at you. Turning on the charm," he chuckles, "I am just fine, sugar. I swear it. Sometimes those girls give me trouble, but it's nothing I can't handle."

You decide to just take it and nod this time. 

He looks at you with satisfaction. "They can't all be like you, y'know? So well-behaved," he praises.

The compliment makes your blood curdle. You couldn't stand that he would act like obedience was your defining trait.

When you were with your group - your family more like -  you would never have been described as obedient. Whether at the prison or Alexandria, it felt like every other day you were sneaking off to try something. You were always quick to spring into action, never the type to let someone belittle you. Rick got on your ass about deviating from plans in spurs of emotion more than anyone else. Maybe that's how you wound up here.

You had tried to stop them from taking Daryl. On that dark night in the woods, surrounded by the ring of headlights, you had tried. You didn't rush at Negan like your friend. Not wanting someone else to get their head bashed in, you were more subtle than that. But you attempted to get in the way of the guys carting him off. That's what landed you here. Tucked under his arm, the very weapon that took away two people you love swinging a foot away from you.

But you swallow down all of this rage and nod again. You nuzzle into his chest, a way to conceal the tightening sensation in your throat and the sting of tears at your waterline.

This is the worst part about Negan, you decide. The way he makes you act like you want it.

From your first day here, he made sure to tell you over and over how he's staunchly against rape. He's not a monster. He's not that kind of guy. No, no. You are a prisoner, so yes, technically here against your will, but never in a million years would he violate you in that way.

And he'd stuck true to that. Whenever you screamed or cried or yelled "no" on a loop until he shook you around like a bobble head, he always backed off of his advances. He never copped a feel or slid a wandering hand in your panties while you slept, never held you down or physically forced himself on you.

Instead, he broke you down until saying yes seemed like the only sane option.

You didn't want his affection? That meant you must not want to talk to anyone at all. For days. You didn't want to sit in his lap? Maybe you'd prefer kneeling by his feet for a week, in private and around everyone else. You didn't want to sleep in his bed? Fine. You could sleep on the concrete floor without a pillow or blanket while the heat was out.

You reflect on all of this as the two of you trot through the boxy halls. He takes you around on all his errands for the day. You stop by the doctor's office, inventory, and Dwight's room. All over the place. You stay quiet the whole time. busying yourself with your thoughts as you stay attached to him.

Everyday the line between survival and free will becomes blurrier. You tell yourself that you have to be like this with him. You'll be worse off if you don't act the part of the sweet, adoring girl he wants. But then sometimes you wonder if you truly are becoming obedient. Like a wildcat tamed into a lazy house pet. You almost never resist his touch anymore. You even go to him for comfort sometimes.

The idea kills you, so you deem it best not to think about for now.

Rather, you focus on guessing what the rest of the day would hold. It's already the afternoon by now. The sun hangs low by the tree line, shimmering into the Sanctuary through the rectangular windows across the walls. He wouldn't have a meeting with the lieutenants today. Those were almost always around lunch time. You didn't think he'd spend it with one of his wives either. If that was the case, he usually gave you a heads up in the morning.

The most likely possibility you come up with is the dilemma from earlier. You had never been invited to see the culmination of those though. Normally, he kept you safe and sound in his room while he tended to matters like that, ready to provide him some stress relief when he finished.

But things can always change, and now it seems like that's the case.

He guides you back into the main room. A crowd has gathered down below. You can't see the center point of their conglomeration. All you can sense are the nerves vibrating between everyone.

Their feet shuffle around on the hard concrete flooring. They look between each other with anxious eyes. Hushed chatter clouds the area until you and Negan begin to descend the stairs. That's when they all go quiet. Mouths close and pupils snap to the position of their leader.

You look down to lessen the ache of humiliation that came with accompanying the center of attention. The few times you had scanned the crowd for others' reactions, seeing if you could find a sympathetic gaze or outraged expression, all you found was animosity. The male workers and soldiers leered at you. They smiled and smirked, visibly amused by your girly outfits and docile disposition. On the other side of the aisle, the women glared, taking in the details of your appearance with disgust, like somehow it was your fault you got toted around like this.

His voice booms out to his audience as he takes step after step towards them.

"You all know what we're here for today," he starts, "We got simple rules 'round here, but some people still seem to have trouble following 'em."

Your hand stays linked with his as the two of you reach the landing.

"Watch your step, babydoll," he murmurs to you before continuing his speech. Your cheeks burn with shame.

"It feels like I'm doing this every other month. It's getting ridiculous," he lectures, "I don't like having to be so harsh. Truly, I don't. But rules are rules, and I don't know how I can make myself any clearer. They are not optional."

He walks further into the room with you. Being level with everyone else, you can see more of what's happening. They're gathered around a furnace. Dwight stands near the opening to the flames, clearly preparing something. Another man sits a few feet away. Over in the corner, the woman from earlier is looking at him and crying.

Looks like your guess was correct.

"So we're gonna do this again. Hopefully it's the last time," he concludes.

The crowd parts as you and him head towards the center of the room. He leads you over to an empty spot near the wall. Dropping your hand, he cups your jaw and makes you look him in the eyes.

"Stay right here for me. Daddy'll be right back," he says.

You nod and then watch as he turns away, waltzing over to where Dwight stands.

While your eyes are up, they can't help but catch on somebody familiar standing at the front of the crowd.

Daryl.

Your heart stutters, and you can see on his face that his does too. He looks worn down. Eyes dimmed and face hollowed. His clothes, dirty and ill-fitting. You start to feel tears pricking at your waterline from the sight. You weren't the only one they'd broken down.

In him, you find the compassion you'd been searching for. The look that told you at least one person here didn't take enjoyment from your suffering. But it comes from someone who truly can't help you. Who's in a situation as bad as your own.

You sniffle and try to wipe away any beginning tears before Negan or someone who would tell him notices.

The loud creak of a metal door opening drags your attention to the furnace though. You watch as Dwight pulls out the item he'd been preparing. A burning, metal iron becomes the new focus of everyone in the room.

Upon seeing the small object, so many things connect in your head. You know what's going to happen. You realize why Dwight's face is scarred. You understand why that woman is crying. And you know no one is going to stop any of this now or in the future.

Your heart pounds harder, and your breaths become shaky. Tears blur your vision further. You dig your nails into your palm to try and ground yourself, but it doesn't help. The scene in front of you has whipped your mind into a frenzy. You haven't felt this bad since the early weeks of being in this place.

This stupid fucking place. You hate it. You hate how cruel it is here. How disconnected and lifeless everything feels. You hate him for being the only one allowed to really live. You hate everyone else here for letting him get this powerful.

It's a complete spiral whirlpooling in your mind, only made worse by the fact that you have to keep it contained. You try to tell yourself you just have to wait it out. This couldn't take more than five minutes and then you could go back to the bedroom. You'd be ok. You could take off this itchy dress and put your hair back to how you like it. You could kick off these shoes and hide yourself beneath the warm blankets. None of these people would be around, all you'd have is the quiet between those walls where daddy could make it all better.

As you're in the process of mentally talking yourself down, Negan takes hold of the iron. To free up his hands, he offers Lucille off to someone nearby. Your eyes follow his leather-clad limb to the neck of the bat and then up to its new handler. You see Simon.

You have to look down now. If you don't, everyone here will see the look of pure terror on your face. You close your eyes and rein in whimpers that threaten to spill from your lips. Everything feels fuzzy around you, intangible and like your hands would drift right through them. Your head heats up, the sensation making you dizzy. You try to steady yourself by leaning back against the wall, but the cool, flat surface does little to ease your nerves.

It does even less when you hear his voice closing in on you.

"Hey there, princess," he starts, voice laced with mockery, "You feeling alright?"

You're not looking at him, but the image of his stupid face projects with HD clarity in your mind. You swallow hard and nod.

Laughing lowly, he comes to stand beside you. "You sure about that? You're looking kind of lightheaded," he taunts.

"I'm fine," you choke out.

His hand darts up and grabs your jaw. He doesn't gently guide your eyes where he wants them to look. He yanks your face in his direction like an unruly child with a doll.

"I don't know about that. You're looking kind of rough," he says while glaring down at you with those ruthless eyes, "Maybe I should take you over to the doctor's. We both know Negan wants his favorite toy kept in good condition."

Your entire body vibrates with hatred for this creature. Every breath you take acts as an effort of restraint, a way to lull yourself into not ripping out what hair he has left.

You didn't just despise Simon because he's an asshole or because he was the person harassing your group leading up to that horrible night you were taken. Your aversion for him stems from experiences entirely your own.

A few days after the biting incident, you had tried getting physical with Negan one more time. You'd managed to worm one of your wrists out of your restraints, and instead of aiming for escape, you decided revenge held a higher priority. You waited for him to come check on you, keeping your arm tucked to your body as if it was still bound.

When he finally came in, you sat there and took the speech, took the condescension, and took the promises that you would conform. And then he leaned a bit closer. That's when you backhanded him as hard as he had you the few days prior.

After the hit landed, you lunged forward and tried to wrap the rope connected to you around his neck. You pulled as hard as you could, and for a moment, you thought you had won.

But wrangling you off was easier than you anticipated. They hadn't been allowing you much food or sleep, so the strike took most of your energy. It only took him a handful of seconds to snake his hand under the rope and then pry your arms away.

He stood up and slammed you into the wall with his hand around your throat. In that moment, he didn't look at you with the same fury he had before. This time around, frustration dominated his gaze.

"Was that fun for you?" he asked.

You didn't answer. Your chest puffed with exertion while your eyes stared daggers into him.

"What did I tell you last time? What did I fucking tell you?" he asked. Despite the look in his eye being less volatile, his tone of voice was dangerous as ever. "I told you I would knock that jaw of yours loose. That's what I said, and I meant it. I don't want you thinking I didn't. But I'm not gonna do that right now because I don't think it would work, and I'm not one to waste my own time."

Internally, pride swelled in your chest, thinking you had called his bluff. But then he kept speaking.

"I have a bad feeling that if I struck some sense into you that you'd just try to strike it into me right back, and I can't have that. That's just not gonna fly around here," he said, "So I'll tell you what: I have a better idea. You don't wanna play with daddy? Then you can spend a weekend with your Uncle Simon. See how much fun he can be."

Back then, you didn't know Simon as the right hand man. You didn't have his name and face connected yet. Now, you wished you could go back to that state of mind.

You were with him for three days while Negan did a tour of the outposts and subjugated communities. Only 72 hours. But an hour of him would have been enough to scare you for a lifetime.

When he first came into the room, you didn't get the feeling that him and Negan would handle you so differently. You could tell from the way he looked at you that, like his boss, he looked at you as something to toy with. A source of amusement. The difference, you soon found out, was how they played with their toys.

Unlike daddy, Simon didn't talk just to talk. He didn't warn you of future spankings or timeouts. He hit. And he kicked. And he shoved you down and tossed you around. He didn't offer the same condolences daddy did, there was no "this hurts me more than it hurts you." Nothing he did even bothered Simon. He watched you hurt, and he enjoyed it.

You didn't even get a reward once you'd settled down. Your attitude had disappeared almost instantly. Having the wind knocked out of you once was enough for you to become more amicable, but your change in demeanor didn't phase him. It wasn't his goal.

The only rules Negan left him with were the basic ones for the Sanctuary along with no killing you or causing permanent damage. But that didn't mean he couldn't threaten you with breaking them. He went on and on during the down periods where you cowered in the corner or huddled against the wall of your bedroom cell, telling you stories of how he went rogue before. Any horrible thing he could think of, he dangled in front of you as a potential fate.

When Negan finally came back, you eagerly awaited him. Despite your sleep deprived and bruised condition, your eyes stayed locked on the door like a puppy expecting their master. For the next week, you latched onto him. Didn't want to leave his side. He had made his point. You could hate him as much as you wanted but leave you alone with Simon for a little while, and you'd beg for him back.

That's how you feel right now, staring up into Simon's eyes while he holds your jaw. The pressure his fingers put on your cheeks serve as a reminder of the pain he can inflict while his other hand holding the bat twirls the weapon near your calf. As much as you had been internally preaching your hatred for everything to do with Negan minutes ago, all you want to do now is run into his arms.

You feel more tears wanting to slip down your cheeks, but you try your best to hold them in. The more you cry, the more I like it. That's what he'd told you more than once over those three days.

"Just leave me alone," you tell him. You try to sound as firm as possible, but even your own ears catch the way your voice quivers. "Negan wouldn't like you talking over him."

Your attempt at taking a stand falls flat. He doesn't back off any, rather, he leans in closer.

"Negan, huh? Are you even allowed to call him that?" he mocks and feigns a pout. 

"Just shut up!" you say. You mean it as a threat; though, it hits his ears like a plea. More hot panic rushes down your spine from the stress of having to remain quiet while also trying to be assertive.

His lips flatten into a line before he continues speaking. "Your head's getting too big for those shoulders, little girl. You better watch your attitude, or I might have to suggest you're due for some more correction," he mutters.

A loud scream rips the two of you from your conversation. He drops his hand from your face, and you both straighten up against the wall. Negan stands in the center of the room, pressing the blazing iron to the side of the man's face.

He wails until he passes out, and that's when his leader peels away the device of torture. Sticky skin goes with it before snapping back against his face like a rubber band. You grimace, your stomach twisting at the sight. You'd seen so much blood and guts over the years of living out on the road and fighting with other groups, but melted skin was a new one.

Negan turns to Dwight and gives him the iron back. You breathe an involuntary sigh of relief, subconsciously soothed by the thought of him returning to your side.

The reprieve ends suddenly though when a small, sharp pain slices along the meat of your calf. You whimper and lift your leg away on instinct. Looking for the source, you see the bat twirling from the motion of Simon's wrist. One of the barbs had caught your skin. Your eyes flit up to him.

"Watch out!" you say. The old you would have been seething. She would have pulled out her pocket knife and given him a little receipt for the cut. But now, you watch him with fearful eyes, trying to gauge whether or not you would get in trouble for calling him an asshole.

"Remember what I said," he tells you quietly as a trickle of red runs down to the lacy frills of your sock.

Before you can respond, a warm hand lands on the small of your back. Your head turns to find Negan smiling down at you.

"What's with the long face, sugar? Simon bothering you?" he asks, clearly not meaning it seriously even though to you it is exactly that.

You part your lips to answer, but Simon beats you to it.

"Bothering her? C'mon. I'm just checking up on her. She looked a little dizzy, so I offered to take her to the doctor's," he says, light as ever, "I'm just watching out for her, y'know? Sweet thing like her will get eaten alive here if she's not careful."

Negan raises his eyebrows, and for a second, you think he's about to take your side. But then he just chuckles and shakes his head. 

"She's doing just fine. That was her first time seeing one of those, so she's probably a little shaken up," he says, rubbing your arm.

"Hm... Sounds about right," Simon replies, "I know that's not how her little group did things."

"Yeah. So I'll get her back to the room. Think you can handle shit down here?" he says, gesturing around to the dispersing crowd.

"Always," Simon says with a mock salute. He then hands Lucille back.

Finally, you find some relief, some true sanctuary as Simon walks away. Your body physically relaxes. Negan feels it underneath his arm and spares you a glance as the two of you walk back up the stairs.

"Is something wrong?" he asks.

You want to just take the easy route and say no, to play along with this sadistic charade and not cause any trouble. But you can't get the single syllable out. It feels impossible to even shake your head. Even though Simon's gone, the weight of everything that happened still remains along with the stinging in your leg.

Your throat feels tight, and your eyes feel like they're two seconds from overflowing. The lights suddenly seem too bright, and everyone here is too loud. You can't show him that though. You don't want more correction. You don't want someone to like it when you cry. But you can't ignore him either. That would be the worst thing to do.

All you manage in response is a shaky shrug. You let out a broken sigh with it and lean into his chest. The tension in your shoulders returns as you fight to keep the tears from leaking out against the worn leather.

At first, he doesn't say anything, and the two of you keep walking. Your steps remain in time with his as you traverse the walkway and around the corner. Then the two of you come to a stop when you're out of sight. He turns you by your shoulders, holding you in front of him so that you can't shy away.

"I got one more thing to attend to out by the fence. Think you can handle that?" he asks.

Your heart pulses to an uneven rhythm, trying to decide what to do without devolving into pure panic. You bite your lip as you mull your options over. Say yes and go with him. Then inevitably fail to contain yourself and get in trouble. Or, say no now and risk punishment for being defiant. You're not sure which one will end up worse.

"Can... can we just go back to the room?" you ask. Your voice comes out weak as if every word siphons a drop of energy from you.

He eyes you with uncertainty of his own; though, there's no fear in his look. His gaze is careful, an attempt to decipher if this is some kind of deception. You'd been pretty well-behaved as of late, but one bad day could take even the most obedient pet to a rabid dog, jaws primed to gnash.

But you didn't really have a reason to lie. The bedroom with him would provide the least likely chance at escape, and in the condition you were in now, you didn't seem to be planning an attack.

Slowly, he nods. "Sure, honey. I'll have Arat handle the other shit," he tells you before leading you in the direction of his bedroom.

The words he mumbles through his radio sound distant to you. You watch your legs switch between one and the other as you walk. On your right, you see the small red splotch staining the pristine cloth of your sock.

Before you know it, he's pushing open the bedroom door and bringing you inside. It then closes behind you, creating a barrier between you and everything else out there. It gets a little easier to breathe.

He guides you the few steps over to the edge of the bed and sits down, pulling you onto his lap. You feel his eyes scanning over you in an attempt to figure out the problem without asking. His hand rubs up and down your back over the crinkly fabric of your dress. His other palm focuses on your legs, coasting over your knees and the area of your thighs the skirt doesn't cover.

The code is harder for him to crack than usual. Normally when you got upset, it resulted from something he said. And he knows that because, usually, that's his intention. It was always either that or you'd just generally be feeling down, missing your home. But that doesn't seem to be the case right now. You seem more antsy than your normal bouts of sadness. He doesn't think it was from watching the spectacle downstairs. He knows you hate the saviors indiscriminately. Watching some random guy's face melt off wouldn't have you this upset. Finally, he relents.

"What's wrong?" he asks. He actually makes an effort not to sound like he'll make fun of whatever your answer may be.

"I just don't feel good," you choke out and bite your lip.

He feels you shudder on his lap, and he knows it's not the full truth. Pulling you a little closer on his thighs, he continues to look down at you.

"C'mon, baby. Tell daddy what hurts," he coaxes.

Your face tenses, but you know he won't drop this. "Just... just... I don't know. A lotta stuff," you say. You couldn't decide on a lie to commit to.

He sighs and bounces his leg with you on it a few times. "Did someone say something to you? Was someone bothering you?" he asks as his scope of potential causes narrow.

You're in the middle of trying to think of a cover story when his hand glides down to remove your shoes. He knocks one off. Then the other. The foamy white sneakers clatter to the ground next to his foot.

He goes to bring his hand back up, dragging it over the fine threading of your socks, but his eyes catch on the bloody splotches near the edge. Grabbing your ankle, he tugs your limb upward. It puts you at an awkward angle and nearly knocks you from your perch on his thigh. He stares the small wound down, assessing every detail of the tiny scrape.

"How'd you get this?" he asks. He looks over to you.

In reality, it may have been the most standard question in the world. But it hits your ears like an accusation and brings a fresh wave of tears that you can't control. Your lip quivers as your lids blink a few droplets over your water line.

"Simon did it," you weep.

You're scared he won't believe you, but after a few seconds, he drops your foot and pulls you close. His arms wrap around you tight and keep you flush against his chest. The warmth of the embrace encompasses you. You let the dam burst and cry into him, pouring all your sadness out against his body.

His hand sweeps up and down your back in comforting strokes. "Shh, shh, shh, sweetheart. Daddy's got you," he murmurs.

You feel him shrug off his jacket and push it aside, leaving the plain material of his t-shirt to soak up your anguish. He keeps you as close as possible. One of his hands cradles the back of your head to ensure you don't pull away.

"Does Simon bother you a lot?" he asks.

You nod. "Whenever I'm not with you," you choke out.

He hums in acknowledgement. "I'll talk to him. He's not supposed to hurt you when you're being such a good girl for daddy."

"I was trying really hard," you sob, your voice cracking, "I've been trying to be good. But he just hates me anyway. He's so mean to me."

Your arms snake around him as tight as a pair of snakes aiming to kill. You cling to him with everything you have, as if he's your one true savior from this living hell and not the cause of it.

In your head, you feel like you're annoying him. He's probably waiting for you to calm down, so he can nip this blossom of resentment in the bud. Good girls don't have tantrums or meltdowns, right? And all he cares about is that you act the part of a good girl.

But you only think all of that because you can't see the smile on his face right now.

He's grinning more than any of the times he got you to say something humiliating or cooperate with a punishment. The look he displays now reaches a new level of smugness, higher than the night he killed two of your people and traumatized the rest of them. His satisfaction runs deeper this time because right now, you're truly broken.

This isn't something you agreed to because the other option was worse. It's not something he had to coach you into or manipulate a situation into becoming. You did this all on your own. You came to him. Sure, he had to coax it out of you a little bit, but once he got his foot in the door, you let him right in. You're clinging to him for comfort, looking to him for a solution. He couldn't be more pleased. This is exactly what he wanted - to break you down. Now he just had to reel you back in the slightest bit, get you in that perfect middle ground between too independent and non-functioning.

"You have been doing really good for me, y'know? I'm proud of you, baby," he tells you in the most earnest tone he can manage, "Don't worry about Simon for right now, ok? Daddy's gonna set him straight. He won't bother you again."

You nod, but the reassurance doesn't stop the flow of tears from your eyes. Your fingers stay clenched around the fabric of his shirt.

"No more tears, honey, c'mon," he coos. He pries your limbs from around him and boosts you to your feet, standing you between his thighs. "I'll take care of it just like I take care of you. Let's just worry about what my little baby needs to feel better right now."

You take a few seconds to think about it, but the answer comes with relative ease. The most agitating thing about this situation right now is wrapped all around you, scratching at your sides and digging in under your arms.

"Can you take my dress off?" you sniffle.

His eyes fall from your face over your body. "What? You don't like this pretty little number?" he teases.

For once, you don't feel like you're two seconds away from punishment. You feel like it's a joke, and you don't have to awkwardly straddle the line between playing along with the humor and submitting to the literal interpretation.

"It's ok... it's just kinda scratchy," you say and wipe away your tears with the back of your hand.

"Spin around for me then. We'll get it off you. Can't have it irritatin' that soft skin while you're tryin' to relax."

You take the few steps to turn around. His fingers grasp the zipper and undo the baby pink prison you'd been trapped in for the day. Feeling the chafing fabric pulled away from you lets you take a real breath for the first time in hours. Already a small bit of relief. It only compounds when the garment hits the floor and pools at your feet.

He tugs you back by the waist and lays you across the bed, body on full display for him. Right now, you don't mind his gaze tracking your curves. He leans over you, his hands coasting from the sides of your breasts down to your hips.

"You're prettier like this anyways, princess," he praises.

"Thank you, daddy." It spills out as naturally as water from a faucet.

He rewards you with his lips on your stomach instead of words. Kissing the smooth, warm skin, his lips travel from just above your navel to the divot between your breasts. Your nipples rise to attention automatically.

His hands slide up to cup your mounds of flesh. He fondles and gropes them as his lips migrate up the curves to the hardening little peaks. They don't latch on just yet. He teases them with kisses instead, letting the anticipation of blissful suction build.

You take your lip between your teeth as you watch him. Chills break out across the rest of your body. You know you should be fighting. You know you should kick and scream and cry. You should try to take advantage of his closeness and get towards your revenge. But in your hellish life, are you not allowed one moment of pleasure? You haven't let those plans of escape and vengeance go, but you want this right now. You want to feel good, and he gives you that. 

This isn't Negan. This is daddy. And you don't wanna hurt daddy.

His tongue peeks out from between his lips to trace wet circles around your nipple. The sensation draws a whine from you. Your body squirms beneath him with an eagerness to feel more.

"I think I know how to make you feel better. Take your mind off all that stuff from before," he whispers.

He takes one of your nipples between his lips, flicking the bud with the tip of his tongue and scraping his teeth against the sensitive area. You reward the choice with a mewl and squirm your legs. He chuckles and then switches to the other one.

"That feel good?" he asks.

You nod, your head tilting back and your eyes fluttering.

Grinning, he continues his work on your chest. You whine and squirm for him, giving him all the reactions he craves. Soon, his hand ghosts up your inner thigh. His fingertips drag over the flesh and land on your clothed center. Through the thin pink cloth, he rubs at your clit. That garners a breathy moan and a full body shudder.

"Goddamn, you are so cute," he chuckles, "Just a few little touches and you squirm around like a virgin for me."

Heat floods your cheeks, but you don't bother disputing the claim. It was the truth. You weren't sure what it was about him that got you so amped up and needy.

The pad of his middle finger swirls around the little nub in your panties. He can already feel the fabric getting sticky from the wetness between your thighs.

"Poor baby. You're so easy to play with," he says.

His mouth leaves your breasts now and begins to retrace its path down your stomach. It glides over your skin with open-mouthed kisses all the way down to the hem of your underwear. His fingers fall away from your center to your dismay.

Your disappointment is short lived though. You feel him position your thighs on his shoulders. When you look down, his eyes are staring right back up at you, gleaming like that of a panther ready to pounce.

"You want daddy's mouth on you? Will that help you feel better?" he rasps.

You nod quickly. "Please, daddy," you whimper.

"So polite. You didn't even need me to remind you of your manners," he smirks.

You don't even care about that remark. It washes right over you. All your mind is concerned with right now is getting more of his touch.

He brings his index finger back between your legs. He hooks it beneath the soaked seat of your panties, pulling it to the side and revealing your slick folds to him. The thumb on his opposite hand comes up to rub over the length of your slit up to your clit. Back and forth, nice and slow, just to tease you.

Your hips writhe the slightest bit, and he nips the skin of your inner thigh.

"Tsk. You know good girls are patient. They don't wriggle around. I've taught you better than that," he chides.

"Sorry," you say, backing down quickly.

"It's alright. I know you're having a rough day, so I'll let it slide this time," he says. He then leans in to lay some kisses on your clit.

Your eyes roll back and your toes curl. He never let things slide. This must have been a miracle. The same man who always toted that the rules weren't optional, letting you bypass one? Maybe you were his favorite. That's what you took it as anyways.

He makes out with your cunt like it's the prettiest thing he's ever seen. His lips engulf it, spreading his affection from your little bundle of nerves all the way down, nearly reaching your puckered entrance below. You whine and clutch at the bedsheets. You were still too scared to grab his hair. You weren't sure if he'd like it and groan or glare at you in a way that said you'd pay for it later.

It doesn't matter to you right now though. What you hold isn't important when you feel this good. It feels like a firework show is erupting in your belly, bright bursts of all different colors. Your heels dig into his back, subconsciously keeping him buried between your thighs.

He's tempted to tear your panties off and fling them aside. He would if not for the limited number in his possession. If this was normal life, he'd rip a pair to shreds on a weekly basis. These things were so cute when he put them on, but when he wanted at you, he despised them. If this was normal life, he'd just buy you new ones whenever a tattered one had to be tossed. But then again, if this was normal life, he wouldn't have you at all, so it isn't really worth thinking about.

Refocusing his mind on your pleasure, he dives further into your cunt. His nose bumps your clit as his tongue fucks into you. He pushes it in a few times before pulling back and just lapping at your pussy in broad strokes, getting every drop of you he can. Two of his fingers prod at your entrance before slipping in. They fuck deeper than his tongue, but don't stretch you out like his cock. A happy medium to walk the steps of preparation.

He maneuvers his digits with expert precision, scissoring and curling them at the perfect intervals. You can't help the way your hips buck in response. He doesn't get on you about it though. He just wraps your arms around his hips and holds you in place.

Your thighs squeeze around his head too. Luckily, that wasn't against the rules. He loved feeling the heat of your plush legs wrapped around his skull, keeping him close.

He pumps his fingers faster, curling them right against that spot that got you to squeal and cry out his name.

"Cum for me, babydoll. All over my face. I wanna feel it," he rasps.

It's a fortunate coincidence he gives you that command because you were about two swipes of his tongue away from doing it on your own. You melt against the bed, eyes fluttering and body jerking and quivering as rushes of pleasure sweep through you.

Your fingers grip the blankets so tight they threaten to tear into them, but then they loosen completely and go lax next to your hips. He licks your cunt through the entire thing, not letting you come down until the euphoria has thoroughly washed through you.

While you're lying there, dazed and blissed out, he untangles himself from your legs and stands at the edge of the bed. He wipes your nectar from his facial hair before pulling his shirt over his head and unzipping his pants.

"I think daddy deserves a little reward for making you feel so good, pretty girl. What do you say?" he asks.

Of course, you nod. There was no way you would reject him while still so close to the high of your last release. He grins at your hazy movement and shoves down his pants, jerking his cock a few times and crawling on the bed to hover over you.

"You're such a good girl for me. Better than I ever thought you'd be," he says while looking down at your face.

"Wanna be good for you, daddy," you say softly, blinking at him with your misty doe eyes.

His grin spreads even wider. In your sane mind, you probably would have thought it looked like some creature out of hell. But right now, the look just makes you giggle and squirm.

Down below, he lines up at your entrance. He slides his tip through your arousal a few times, getting it nice and wet before he sinks in. A smile of your own rises on your face, and he groans at the deep satisfaction of having your cunt embrace him so readily.

"Perfect little pussy, fuck," he grunts, "Think it's the best I've ever had."

You preen at that compliment. He balances his forearms on each side of your head as he begins to thrust. Your legs rise up and lazily wrap around his waist, which he loves. He can't get enough of the fact that you want him, that you're pushing him deeper and not letting him pull out too much.

His head falls beside yours, letting you hear every pant and grunt that falls from his lips. Your walls squeeze around him every so often. The noises make your tummy flutter for him. It drives you wild to know you brought him to such a state of lust.

"Christ, you're so fucking tight," he mumbles.

You giggle again and drape your arms around his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. You just get lost in the feeling of him inside you, his cock battering all your sweet spots just right. He leans in and kisses at your neck. His hips pump deeper, ramming his shaft further into the warm depth of you.

In this moment, everything feels so good and pure. You can't even imagine any of the pain he inflicted on you before. It all feels like a distant dream. Memories that belonged to someone else, not you. At this second, it feels as though this bliss will last forever. Just you and him tangled in the throes of passion without a concern for anything else happening beyond the privacy of his room.

When you open your eyes, they're a little watery from all the stimulation and how good it feels mixed with your saccharine thoughts. You arch off the bed a few inches, pushing your pert breasts against the warmth of his chest. He pushes you back down with ease, keeping you angled exactly where he wants you.

Pulling back a little to look at your face, he smiles when he sees the water gathering in your eyes.

"Oh, those are the tears I like to see," he croons.

You moan, a little shiver coursing through you. It only encourages him to pound his hips harder against you, in and out, in and out, until you're both approaching the edge.

"You gonna cum again for me, sweetheart? Show daddy how good he's making you feel?" he murmurs.

"Yeah, mhm, ah-" you whimper, "I wanna cum daddy, wanna cum for you."

"I know you do," he chuckles, "I can feel it."

Your cunt contracts and releases around him with increased frequency now. He knows you're moments away from reaching the peak. Swiveling his hips, he tries to strike that chord and bring you crashing down.

You whimper, the pitch getting higher as the glass gets closer to shattering. Finally, with one good jerk of his pelvis, you tense up and cry out. A couple tears trickle from your eyes. Your nails dig into his shoulder blades.

Your body trembles and rolls with the feeling. He fucks you through it, savoring every delicious squeeze of your cunt around him. A few breathless groans rumble out of him. He gets every last second in your hole he can before he has to pull out.

He snaps his hips back, replacing the tightness of your pussy with his hand. It's not the same, but it will do. He gives it a few quick strokes before he explodes and spills on your belly. You lift your head and watch as the ropes of hot, sticky cum land on your skin.

His hips jerk with each surge of release firing from him. When he finishes, his head hangs, and he takes a moment to catch his breath. He scoots off of you and cools down beside your body on the bed. It's quiet for a few moments; though, he's never one to be vulnerable, so he doesn't let the silence linger for too long.

"You feeling better?" he asks and rotates his head to look at you.

You nod, visibly more relaxed than before.

"Thank you, daddy," you say, sweet as can be, before leaning in and pecking his lips.

He stares at you for a few moments in fond satisfaction. Then he gets up, and pulls you to your feet with him.

"C'mon. Let's get you cleaned up," he says.

You follow obediently to the bathroom where he wipes you off with a damp rag and makes sure you're all set to get some rest after. Both of you make your way to the dresser next. He pulls another set of those panties out and slips you into them. They don't feel so horrible this time around, but in the back of your mind, you're sure that won't be the case tomorrow morning. A soft, thin shirt covers your upper body next. It's the same baby pink color as the dress, but you don't mind since it's much more comfortable.

On your own, you tuck yourself to his side for the short walk back to the bed. He climbs in first and then tugs you into your spot next to him.

"I want you to try and get some rest," he tells you, stroking down the side of your face, "When you wake up, I'll get you something to eat, but for now, I want you to take a nap, ok?"

You aren't particularly tired, but while living here, sleep has become your greatest method of escape. You never reject a chance at it. The only thing is, right now, you don't really want to escape. You don't feel a horrible gnawing sensation from being so close to him.

However, you agree anyways because daddy knows best for you, and you don't want to make him upset.

You lie your head on his chest and snuggle up to him. He holds you close, rewarding the compliance by rubbing your back.

"Sweet dreams, babydoll," he murmurs.

You shut your eyes, allowing your mind to recede into visions of the life and people you had before this. The life you still hoped one day you would get back, even as it became more and more like a fantasy rather than a realistic future.

[retrosabers]

𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐝.

FICMAS DAY 5 - UNWRAPPING

A RETROSABERS X PANDAPETALS DOUBLE FEATURE

old man logan x fem!reader

summary: logan didn’t believe in exchanging christmas presents. so, you offer him something you know he can’t refuse. a night where’s he’s free to have you all to himself.

contains: 18+ content below the cut. MINORS DNI. making out, some dry humping if you squint, oral (fem receiving), implied age gap, a dash of angst, swearing

word count: 2.6k

a/n: you thought i’d let a whole season pass without a little taste of some festive smut? absolutely hilarious. this is my first time writing for old man logan, and i think i did pretty alright considering i have yet to watch the movie (i’m terrified of the pain it will bring)

any feedback is always greatly appreciated!

also, don’t be confused by the fact that this says day 5 when i still haven’t posted day 4, i’m writing these bad boys out of order

and finally, a huge shoutout & thanks to the wildly talented @pandapetals for agreeing to do a little collaboration! please go check out her blog and all of her amazing work! <3

FIND HER PART HERE

!! divider by @estrelinha-s !!

FICMAS MASTERLIST

“are you sure your eyes are closed?”

logan grunts. “they’re closed, darlin’. promise.”

he’s been sitting here for almost fifteen minutes now, waiting for you to bring out this so-called “surprise.” from the ambient lighting and freshly washed bed sheets, the man thinks he’s got a general idea of what it is, but you’ve been fiddling in the bathroom too long for him to be certain.

still, he appeases you, and waits patiently at the foot of your bed. even if it’s a little bit uncomfortable on his knees.

meanwhile you’re fussing over every little detail of your appearance in the groggy bathroom mirror.

this was your solution to getting around logan’s “i don’t need anything for christmas” rule. you always begrudgingly abided by it, save for the box of cigars that always mysteriously turnt up in his nightstand on christmas eve. you knew he could never turn it down, no matter how much he tried.

logan could never say no to a smoke break with a nice pack of cubans. and he most certainly couldn’t say no to you.

that's how you decided upon this whole scheme. dolling yourself up and donning a new set of lingerie themed to the occasion, knowing logan had no leg to stand on. because technically, you didn’t buy anything for him. you bought this for you. he just so happened to be the person who was going to help take it off.

or rip it off, knowing your man’s track record of impatience and eagerness.

you share the exact same sentiment, though your tendency to be anile overpowers all else. you know it doesn’t matter if you have a hair or two out of place, or if your lips are slightly over lined. perfection never mattered to logan, but it still didn’t stop you from doing everything in your power to be pretty damn close to it tonight.

even if it meant making him wait a few extra minutes.

you pay your reflection one final glance before sauntering out into the bedroom.

he smells you before he hears you.

your scent wafting into the room captures his attention more than anything else. logan’s senses may not be as keen as they once were, but the fragrance of you was something utterly unmistakable. a sweet yet sultry aroma that he ached to have on his skin, his clothes, anywhere, to keep him grounded. to remind himself that you were real and you were his. it only adds to the anticipation building inside, the mere seconds he has to wait dragging on like hours in his mind.

a wave of lust overtakes you as logan comes into view. somehow just the sight of him is enough to send a bout of arousal down to your core.

that crisp white dress shirt he always wears is unbuttoned at the top, sleeves rolled up to reveal those chiseled forearms you love to have wrapped around you. the soft glow of the lamp on the bedside table illuminates the weathered curves of his face so beautifully. a contrast to the ruggedness of his position; legs lazily spread wide and long, thick fingers tapping mindlessly against his thigh.

the picture of a real man. and he’s all yours for the taking.

the sound of your footsteps padding against the floor grows louder. obediently, logan’s eyes stay shut, despite the fact that the other aroma you carry is hot and heavy in his nostrils. his upper lip twitches with a knowing smirk.

so this is exactly what he had in mind.

on instinct, his thighs spread even further when he senses your approach, hands itching to find their place on you somehow. when your own stay glued to your sides, he takes that as his cue to do the same.

logan really hates to admit it, but there’s something about this little bit of mystery that’s got him going before you’ve even begun.

“you ready?” your voice comes out breathy, and if logan didn’t know any better he’d think you’re nervous. and truth be told, you were. not that logan wouldn’t get his kicks, you were certain of that. more so that you’d be unable to walk come tomorrow morning.

though neither of you would consider it a bad thing

“yes ma’am,” he grumbles in response, knowing exactly the effect it has on you. the cockiness on his face is inevitable when he hears your breath hitch.

tease. if that’s how he wants to play, you’re in for a long night.

with a quiet sigh, you splay your fingers over the expanse of his broad shoulders. the man takes it as permission, calloused palms wrapping around your calves and not daring to travel any further. he knows he’ll lose any remaining self control if he gets so much as an inch closer to the apex of your thighs.

“okay.” you murmur. “you can open your eyes.”

slowly, those dark irises begin to drink you in. his grip on you tightens as soon as he gets the whole picture, a visible tent forming in his dress slacks almost immediately.

logan thought you were the most beautiful women he’s ever seen under any conditions. didn’t matter if you were sick, if you were bare faced, none of that changed how otherworldly you looked in his eyes. but nothing, and i mean nothing, compared to the sight of you before him right now.

you look like something out of a dream. hair styled in a way that drives him particularly crazy, makeup done to highlight your features so elegantly in the dim light. the best, and quite possibly logan’s favorite part, however, is that your lips are painted a shade of red to perfectly match the ensemble adorning your body. it sparks a slideshow of rather lewd images in his brain, wanting the color scattered across his cheek, his chest, his cock. anywhere you’re willing to brand him.

he’s committed every inch of you to memory by now. countless nights of exploring, mapping out your curves with hand and tongue. and still, everytime he sees you like this, practically offering yourself on a silver platter, he can’t help but stare back as though this is the very first time.

especially when that crimson silk is accentuating your figure so nicely.

“do you like it?” you ask coyly, bottom lip tucked between your teeth like you’re not fully aware of the power you have over him.

logan scoffs out a laugh, dragging his hands higher and higher until they tug at your hips, pulling you to straddle his lap in one swift motion. you squeak at the sudden display of strength, forgetting that despite his age, he was still infinitely stronger than any man you’ve ever met.

even beneath the layers of fabric between you, the sheer size of him was impossible to ignore. fuck, and he wasn’t even fully hard. you bite back a moan at the outline of his length pressed between your legs.

“that answer your question?” he quips back lowly, smirking smugly.

you hum in content, pressing your hands further into his shoulders as you experimentally grind your hips. the pair of you preen at the contact, desperate for any form of relief after being pent up and waiting.

“careful,” logan grits out in warning. “gonna cum in my pants like a fuckin’ teenager if you keep that up.”

you tsk in response, cocking your head with faux concern. “can’t have that, now can we?”

logan shakes his head at your antics, eyes wandering back over your body once more. before tonight, his favorite set of lingerie you owned was a black lacy number. simple and classic. but the more time he spends inspecting what’s currently adorning your frame, the more he thinks that red might be his new favorite color.

something warm spills over him when he glances at your chest again. something different than what he normally experiences every time he catches a glimpse of your cleavage, anyways.

“is that a bow?” he questions, a little bit amused.

you let out a soft giggle, nodding in reply.

“wanted you to be able to unwrap your present.”

you can count the amount of times logan has laughed, really truly laughed, on one hand. and as much as it sounds like music to your ears, you’re rather confused as to why he’s laughing right now.

“what’s so funny?” you huff, brows knit together and bottom lip jutted in a near pout.

logan averts your inquiry, burying his face in your neck so you can’t see him grinning like an idiot. instead, he busies himself with dragging his lips up and down the column of your throat, reveling in the breathy moans spilling from your lips with each and every press against your skin.

from the moment you met logan howlett, you fantasized about that salt and pepper beard. longed to feel the delicious sting of scruff against every part of you. as addicting as it is, the sensation isn’t enough to keep you completely distracted.

“logan,” you whine, titling your head back to grant him more access. “m’serious.”

he doesn’t halt his ministrations, too consumed with making sure your neck is painted every shade of lavender under the sun. he only stops when you rake your fingers in his hair and physically pull him off, much to both your dismays.

you give him a look. that pursed lips, narrow eyed “what aren’t you saying to me” look that signals he’s going to have to fess up to whatever’s on his mind, or else the evening would be coming to an end right here and now. from the way he’s about to burst through the zipper on his dress slacks, you know he’s not considering weighing options.

logan sighs heavily. if you didn’t know all the variations of the sound, you’d think he was upset with you. but that was far from how the older man felt. he begins to examine your face, observing everything from the slopes of your bone structure, to the color of your irises. he studies your features like an artisan in a gallery, content on not missing a single detail.

after a moment, the corners of his mouth turn up a hair. eyes almost dopey; filled with a lovesickness he never thought could be possible.

“you’re somethin’ else, y’know that?” he murmurs into the air, rough fingertips tracing back and forth across your spine.

you speak the language of logan fluently, knowing exactly what the underlying message of his words were. in reality, he was saying, “what did i do in this life to deserve you? will you ever know how much i love you? i hope you’ll be mine for as long as you’ll have me.”

suddenly his round of laughter from before rings brighter in your ears.

instead of saying another word, you guide his face to yours, connecting your lips in a silent understanding.

logan always kisses you like a man starved, devouring you whole as though every kiss may be the last. there was nothing tame, or tender about the man they once called the wolverine, but you managed to slip between the cracks of his stony disposition, and bring forth all the parts of himself he swore he lost decades ago.

your hands encircle around the back of his neck, logan’s squeezing at the flesh of your hips. he pulls you impossibly closer, pressing the swell of your chest against his own. the feeling of your nipples pebbling through velvet fabric reminds him of the true nature of your current situation.

tonight was for him. his pleasure, his enjoyment. he knew you’d be heavily dissatisfied if he didn’t indulge in what you were offering.

and what kind of man would logan be, if he disappointed his sweet girl?

you’re not expecting him to be so gentle when he turns and flips you over, mouth never once leaving yours. a large hand spread across your back as he lowers you down onto the mattress with a care reserved for you and only you. a fact that adds to your current state of arousal. your legs open like second nature, and logan slots himself between them as though that’s where he was always meant to be.

the whine that leaves you when he pulls away would be embarrassing if it weren’t for the hunger in his stare. those normally hazel pupils now a brownish black that overshadowed bright white. he sits back on his haunches, glazing over your pretty little lingerie with a newfound appreciation.

he reaches to toy with the end of the bow tied snugly between your breasts, a teasing invitation that he graciously accepts.

at a tantalizing pace, he begins to unwrap his present, watching with lustful eyes as more and more skin becomes exposed. you arch your back the slightest bit to get the job done faster, the shoe of impatience now snug on your foot instead of his.

normally, logan would scold, spit something about “being a good girl and waiting.” but he’s just as riled up and eager as you are, and he gives the velvet one final tug that has your breasts springing free.

god you were absolute perfection.

he can’t resist running a thumb over your erect nipples, reveling in the way you squirm over such a small touch. your color coated lips swollen and shiny from his kisses. body already relaxed and pliant, willing to do whatever he so pleases.

a few minutes ago, he would’ve torn your outfit off without second thought and shown no mercy. let the shitty week he was having take control, guide him through the motions of achieving pleasure. but something inside logan urges him to be a little sentimental; take his sweet time on the off chance that he wakes up and discovers this was all a dream.

so he decides that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

the path down to your core was a familiar one, a route he knew like the back of his hand. sloppy, wet kisses trail down your stomach, a small crack in logan’s otherwise composed exterior. by the time he reaches the hem of your panties, tongue teasing beneath the waistband, you’re bursting at the seams with desire, unable to stop yourself from whimpering and bucking your hips upward.

“i gotcha honey,” he whispers against the inside of your thigh, rubbing soft circles with his thumb. “m’gonna take real good care of ya.”

logan knew you were soaked the second you walked into the room. didn’t need to see or feel it to know. still, he indulges his ego and stares proudly at the dark patch in the center of your underwear. knowing it was all his doing, that he was the only one who could get you like this.

when he pulls the fabric to the side and is met with your glistening folds, he can’t help the groan that rumbles in his chest.

“merry fuckin’ christmas to me,” he all but growls before diving right in.

it’s in moments like these where he wishes that photographic memory was his mutation, though he doubts he’ll ever forget this. his perfect girl, laid out so delicately beneath him, basking in the pale moonlight that seeped in between the curtains. his own personal utopia, paradise within the four walls of this rickety building you called home.

logan wonders if maybe he’s finally succumbed to the poison in his bones. because this sure does feel like heaven.

at the very least, it most definitely feels like christmas.

because having the privilege of watching you come undone was the gift that kept on giving all year round.

thanks for reading! <3

taglist: @alastor-simp @j4desblurbs @pandapetals @hextech-bros

!! if you would like to be tagged in the rest of the ficmas blurbs, please send me an inbox message or leave a comment !!

[exorcxqsm]

Only a fool would bargain with the leader of Onychinus

Word Count: 5,8k

tags - WARNINGS: mdni, reader isn’t the lnds!mc, explicit sexual content, first time sex (not virginity loss) alterations to the main story, dr/y humping, thigh riding, b/egging, f!receiving oral, p in v, unprotected sex, creampies, squirting, dirty talking, use of pet names (kitten, sweetie, baby), violence, mentions of injuries. 

Notes:Some of you may have already read my fic, The Price of Desire, in which the reader’s evol is mentioned. If you have, you’ll notice that the evol is the same in this story; however, there is no connection between the two. The concept of a reader with this ability was too appealing for me to resist, and since it was briefly mentioned in the previous fic, I decided to explore it further in this one. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! All likes and reblogs are appreciated. :3

Going on missions for Sylus was nothing new to you by now. You had spent years by his side since he first found you, a wild creature desperate for survival. Sometimes, you could still recall how close you had come to killing each other back then. You had been hunted by nearly every illegal underground group, all seeking your evol, and while on the run, you stumbled upon him like a scared and feral animal.

You had instinctively tried to attack him on sight; it was all you knew how to do, having fought for your freedom for as long as you could remember. You were no stranger to the danger he represented—the bloodthirsty leader of Onychinus. If other groups sought you as a mere experiment for your power, you could only imagine what Onychinus would do if they got their hands on you.

The moment you realized the person you had fallen headfirst into was the white-haired menace himself, you had attempted to fight him with everything you had. Sylus, of course, dodged every single one of your attacks effortlessly, but he was merely toying with you, for he possessed something you were unaware of; he could not be killed.

You had always been feared for your lethal evol—one touch from your bare fingers could send someone halfway to the other world. You were an extraordinary weapon, yet Sylus was not deterred; he was intrigued, even enamored by you.

With his energy manipulation, it was impossible for you to harm him, particularly when he thrived on high levels of adrenaline and excitement.

So, even as you forced yourself to keep trying to touch him, desperate to end the chaos, he reveled in your fierce determination. He loved witnessing the fire in your eyes as you believed you could take him down. When he finally grew tired of your little game and decided to put an end to it, he was blindsided by a fact he had overlooked.

While he had learned nearly everything there was to know about your evol and your abilities, he did not realize one important thing; you were immune to his mist.

No matter how fiercely the red and black tendrils curled around you, the moment your flesh made contact with them, they vanished into thin air.

Sylus had nearly salivated when he realized the challenge you presented. It had been far too long since he had encountered someone so intriguing, and he was determined that you wouldn’t walk out of that valley without becoming his.

That’s how you found yourself in his group now. Unlike everyone else, Sylus had made a promise that night: if you went home with him willingly, he would never force you to use your abilities for his research or personal gain. He needed you to choose to be there if you were going to help him.

His condition was simple: think of aiding him, and in return, you would gain his protection, a life free from fear and the constant need to run for your freedom.

You had taken a significant risk when you decided to go with him, but the white-haired man kept his word. It took you months to contemplate helping him instead of merely enjoying the luxury of his lifestyle, but he was patient. In time, you became not only his most valuable asset but also his right hand. Whenever he was out of town for deals or missions, you handled matters back home on his behalf.

Deep down, back then you knew he wasn’t just a kind-hearted man simply looking to help a struggling girl off the street. What he truly sought to protect was your evol because he believed you would eventually come around to assist him when he needed it most. So when you finally did, it was no surprise to him. He had merely given you a subtle nod and handed you the first files.

Now, two years later, you stood beside him at one of the many auctions taking place in the N109 Zone. He was after a particularly important and valuable protocore—one he had pursued for years—and today presented his chance to possess it.

Being next to him not only amplified his chances of leaving unscathed without extensive negotiation—after all, who was crazy enough to challenge the leader of Onychinus and his lethal right-hand woman?—but it also made it easier for him to operate, as you inevitably drew attention and distraction from other bidders.

His hand curled possessively around your waist as he proudly showcased you to the crowd. The dress you wore was as red as his eyes, hugging your every curve and accentuating your figure. Your hair was styled in a simple updo, revealing your back to the admiring gazes around you.

The less fabric you wore, the more difficult it was for his mist to approach you, and that was one thing you clung to. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you—he had come to not only depend on you but to trust you as well. Still, you maintained a small resistance, a defiance that you weren’t ready to surrender, no matter how much it irritated him.

Your gloves were snugly in place, allowing you to interact with him without draining his energy, thus enabling you to warn others of the imminent danger your touch posed. One slip of fabric, and whoever you touched would be lost forever.

“Mr. Sylus, I didn’t think you’d make it tonight,” a distant voice interrupted your thoughts, drawing both of your attention. A young man addressed your boss, his tone a mix of surprise and formality.

“Not happy to see me?” Sylus replied, his voice smooth as silk and sweet as honey, the smugness evident in his expression as he arched a white brow at the man.

“Of course, sir! I’m sorry, sir. I just thought you’d be out of town—”

“Change of plans." Sylus muttered, cutting him off with a tight smile before guiding you forward, his hand resting firmly on the small of your back.

As you walked toward the room where his meeting would take place, you tilted your face up to catch a glimpse of his profile. “He’s right, you know,” you began, curiosity lacing your words. “Weren’t you supposed to return next Tuesday?”

Sylus’s smirk deepened at your question. “If I had known you’d be so disappointed by my early arrival, sweetie, I would have made sure to come back yesterday.”

You scoffed at his remark, subtly flexing your back to shake his arm off, but his grip only tightened, keeping you glued to his side. “Be good now. You know how important tonight is,” He leaned in closer, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine as it tickled your ear. “Don’t screw this up.”

You couldn’t shake the uneasiness that crawled up your spine from the subtle threat lacing his tone. Sylus had been under immense pressure lately, but you refused to let him take it out on you.

“Sylus.”

He let out an impatient huff as you halted him just outside the door of your final destination, but he turned his body to face you fully, his expression a mix of frustration and intensity.

“I’m not your enemy,” you asserted, holding his gaze with unwavering resolve. “Many people work for you, but aside from Luke and Kieran, no one stands by your side with the same loyalty I do. I know you’ve been struggling, but I’m the last person you want against you right now.”

“Oh, is that right, kitten?” His brows furrowed, drawing closer until your chests nearly touched. To an outsider, you might have appeared to be lovers, but the tension between you was palpable and lethal. “And why is that? Because you’re oh-so-dangerous?”

His provoking smirk ignited your anger, and while you couldn’t fathom what was going through his mind, you chose to avoid making a scene. Stepping away from him, you tried to regain your composure. “They’re waiting for us.”

Before you could take another step toward the door, you were abruptly lifted off the ground, hanging upside down over Sylus’s shoulder.

“What the hell are you doing?” you whispered-yelled, frantically scanning for prying eyes. Your surprise deepened when, from the shadows, Luke and Kieran rushed toward you, effortlessly pulling you from Sylus’s grip. “What—”

“Take her to the car and wait for me,” Sylus commanded sharply, his tone clipped and leaving no room for negotiation. As you were carried away from him and the room, you felt a pang of frustration.

“Let me down!” you practically shouted as the twins put distance between you and the auction building.

“Sorry, ma’am, no can do.”

“Yeah, ma’am, we’re sorry, but no one bypasses the boss's orders!”

Your heart thumped loudly in your ears as the events unfolded, anger and frustration boiling within you at how Sylus had treated you. It was the first time since you started working for him that he had dismissed you so callously, and you couldn’t ignore the pang of hurt that coiled deep in your stomach.

You sat in the backseat of the car while the twins chatted and bantered in the front, oblivious to your turmoil. It felt surreal, as if they were living in a different world. Maybe you were overthinking it—after all, you hadn’t expected him to disregard you like that, especially during an auction so crucial to him. You were valuable to him, weren’t you? He needed you by his side, didn’t he?

Your thoughts spiraled until they were abruptly shattered by a loud bang. Before you could process the sound, part of the building in front of you exploded in a fiery eruption. Wait—was that the floor where the auction was being held? The very floor Sylus was on?

Without a second thought, you threw open the car door, sprinting toward the burning building despite the twins’ frantic shouts urging you to stop. Your mind was consumed by one thought: Sylus. He couldn’t be hurt. He couldn’t die. Foolish girl, not even his evol could save him from an explosion of that magnitude.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, sweat clung to your skin as you pushed your limits, charging up the stairs to the floor where you had been just forty minutes earlier. You stumbled multiple times, falling to your knees, but the thought of Sylus pushed you onward.

When you finally reached the floor, it was a scene of devastation. The area lay in ruins, engulfed in smoke and chaos, with scattered survivors struggling to breathe amidst the wreckage. You focused your eyes and ears, straining to find Sylus amidst the agonizing cries of others. Time blurred as you searched, exhaustion creeping in and threatening to overwhelm you.

Just when you thought you might pass out, you spotted it—silver locks, now dirty and disheveled, just a few feet away. Panic surged through you as you fell to your knees and crawled with the last remnants of strength you had left. When you finally reached him, your heart stopped. You had never seen Sylus so vulnerable, so exposed.

You reached out to touch his face, your irritation intensifying at the realization that you still had to keep your gloves on, unable to feel his soft, dirt-streaked skin. With the last remnants of your strength, you shook him gently, your voice coming out hoarse as you tried to call his name.

Slowly, his eyes peeled open, and you let out the breath you had been holding. Unfortunately, you had inhaled too much smoke, resulting in a violent cough that wracked your body.

Clutching your chest, you hunched over, trying to cough out the smoke while moving away from him. Just then, you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you down to him. You attempted to focus on his face, searching for any injuries, but your eyes were tearing up, and your vision was blurred from the smoke-filled atmosphere.

Just as you thought you might lose consciousness, his voice broke through, shaky and hoarse but still as sharp as a knife. “What are you doing in here, kitten?” His eyes were half-lidded, and he groaned as he struggled to sit up. “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me outside?”

You tried to help him rise, but his heavy body only dragged you down, sending you sprawling onto the floor. As he noticed your condition, his eyes sharpened with concern, and his features turned serious. He began removing his coat, which was now dirty and full of holes.

“Sylus—you need to get out of here,” you urged, trying to push him away as he attempted to cover you completely with his coat.

“Don’t talk right now, sweetie.” His movements were urgent, almost desperate, as he made sure no part of your upper body was exposed. Your hands were now firmly pinned to your torso beneath his coat. “And don’t fight me.”

His fingers came to your face, squeezing gently until your lips formed a pout and your attention was solely on him. “Stubborn little kitten,” he muttered, his voice a mix of frustration and affection.

Just before you slipped into unconsciousness, you felt the tendrils of his red-black mist enveloping you, pushing through your evol’s resistance and carrying you away from the chaos.

When you finally opened your eyes, it took a moment for your surroundings to come into focus. The unmistakable scent of Sylus’s mattress enveloped you, grounding you in reality. You were back at the mansion.

Your limbs felt heavy, and a dull ache throbbed in your head. Every part of your body screamed for you to stay in bed, to drift back into sleep and forget everything that had happened before you lost consciousness. But your mind was fixated on one thing: Sylus.

With a groan, you attempted to sit up, quickly glancing over your body. To your relief, you realized you were freshly cleaned and dressed in one of your nightgowns, with no significant injuries aside from a few scratches on your skin.

You took a moment to steady yourself, ensuring your vision wouldn’t fade to black before you attempted to walk across the room toward the door. Sylus’s office was just down the hallway, and as you stepped outside, you could faintly hear Luke and Kieran’s voices drifting from inside. You paused, heart pounding, and when you heard Sylus’s gruff tone, a wave of relief washed over you. He was okay.

After a brief moment, you knocked once before turning the doorknob and peeking through the small opening. Sylus’s gaze met yours immediately, and the twins turned to regard you with their rare smiles. It wasn’t often they dropped their masks, even in the mansion, but now their boyish features shone through. Their red hair was pulled back into matching messy ponytails, and a hint of blush colored their cheeks as they took in your appearance in the gown.

Sylus coughed discreetly, and the twins exchanged glances before standing up to give you two some privacy.

As they made their way to the door, Kieran paused to ruffle your hair playfully, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “You gave us a scare there, little crow.”

You regarded both twins with a small, apologetic smile before turning your full attention to the white-haired man seated behind his desk. He still wore his torn shirt, which left his muscular frame fully exposed. With a languid movement, he rolled his chair away from the desk and beckoned you with a finger.

Taking slow, deliberate steps toward him, you felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over you as his intense gaze roamed over your form. Despite the butterflies in your stomach, you approached and stood before him, his legs slightly apart, causing your knees to brush against the inside of his thighs as he looked up at you.

Your eyes fell to his toned chest, now marred with scratches and bruises—evidence the damage inflicted, perhaps a sign that he was running low on evol energy and unable to heal completely.

“Are you okay?” Your voice emerged as a barely audible whisper, still tinged with hoarseness. You clasped your hands behind your back, fidgeting awkwardly.

You weren’t quite sure what had come over you; you had never before found yourself in a situation where you needed to actively express your concern for Sylus until tonight, and you hoped he wouldn’t recall too much of what had transpired in that building.

“Worried, kitten?” he asked, a small smirk curling at the corners of his lips as his gaze swept over your body. His fingers twitched with the urge to reach out and touch you, yet he seemed equally torn, grappling with the worry that had gripped him when you had passed out in his arms.

You sniffled softly, your eyes darting anywhere but to him, your body tense and rigid as if your bones were locking into place. Instead of answering his question, you opted to redirect the conversation. “Do we know what caused the explosion?”

His expression was unreadable, and you noticed his jaw tick slightly as he processed your words. After a moment, he exhaled slowly, raising his hand to brush his knuckles gently across your arm. A shiver coursed through you at the contact, and you could see the corners of his lips curl slightly at your reaction. This time, he didn’t bother to hide himself from you.

“I did.”

“What?” Your voice came out louder than intended, earning a deep, rumbling chuckle from Sylus. He relaxed further into his chair, locking his carmine eyes onto yours with an intensity that sent your heart racing.

 “What are you talking about, Sylus? When I came in there…” It was becoming increasingly difficult to mask the emotion in your voice. “When I came in, you had fainted. What would have happened to you if I hadn’t found you in time?”

Amusement danced freely in his eyes at your small outburst. You truly were exquisite in your concern. “You underestimate me too much, sweetie.”

“You’re the one underestimating your enemies, Sylus!” You raised your voice, your hands gesturing in disbelief. “Just because you’re the leader of Onychinus doesn’t mean they can’t get to you if you’re unconscious.”

“Burnt men can’t walk, kitten.”

A small gasp escaped your lips at the speed and bluntness of his response. His smugness only fueled your anger at his reckless behavior. Leaning down, you gripped the arms of his chair, effectively caging him in. You were about to respond when you suddenly realized the position you had put yourself in. It gave him a full view of your breasts, the fabric of your nightgown flowing away from your skin and leaving little to the imagination.

Your ears and cheeks burned a deep crimson as you tried to pull away just as quickly as you'd leaned down. However, Sylus’s arm had already wrapped around your waist, anchoring you in place and pulling you impossibly closer. Your breath hitched when you noticed the way his pupils had dilated, his lips parting slightly as he fixated on your slowly hardening nipples.

“Sylus…” Your voice was barely a whisper now, heat pooling in your core under his intense gaze.

Finally, Sylus’s eyes met yours, and he began to stroke your back slowly, his tone low as if he feared shattering the delicate bubble that enveloped you both. “The explosion; It was my plan all along. Why else would I want you out and away from the building, sweetie?”

A frown crossed your face at his admission. Despite your initial shock, your body grew more compliant under his gentle strokes as he pulled you in, guiding you to straddle his thigh. His red irises darkened just a bit when your pulsing core made contact with his jeans and you felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks at the realization that he could probably feel just how wet you were.

Yet, he continued speaking, his voice smooth and steady. “Tonight had no other way of going. It was necessary and inevitable.”

“But why?” Your eyes had softened since you’d first entered his room, and you found yourself relaxing more beneath his touch as he explained the events of the night.

“Because, kitten, tonight’s transaction was off the table the moment it was proposed by the other side, a few days back when I was still away."

By now, confusion began to cloud your understanding of Sylus’s motives. “But…” Your gaze drifted to his desk, where numerous files lay scattered. “Is this why you came back earlier? Tonight’s transaction was for that protocore you needed, Sylus. I thought nothing could screw this up for you. Weren’t you after it for years?”

Sylus let out a small scoff, his lips pressing into a thin line as he studied your face intently. “You never asked me what the price of that protocore was, kitten.”

Curiosity piqued, you looked up at him again, instinctively leaning closer. Your breasts brushed against his chest, heightening the tension between you as if his answer were a secret he needed to share. “And what was the price?”

“You.”

Your eyes widened in shock, and a dark cloud crossed his features as he spoke. His grip on your waist tightened slightly, causing you to squirm on his thigh, which elicited a low grunt from him.

Your emotions were a chaotic mess, thoughts swirling together and leaving you breathless as you tried to process what he was implying. “So what you’re saying is…”

“The deal was off the table the moment they thought you were for sale.” Sylus’s leg bounced suddenly, and you couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped your lips. Your hands instinctively flew out to clutch the fabric of his open shirt for stability. “I came back because I had to send a message.”

His voice dripped with malice as he continued to move his leg, sending shockwaves of sensation through your core as it ground against his thigh.

The pleasure mixed with confusion made you feel light-headed; even if you wanted to resist, your body had already betrayed you. There was no stopping your hips from chasing the friction, no way to quell the whimpers that escaped your lips. Sylus’s fingers curled tighter around the fabric of your nightgown at the sound.

As you continued to grind against him, he spoke with a dark intensity. “They had to know, kitten; Nobody lives to say they tried to bargain with what belongs to me.”

“I—I don’t belong to you,” you breathed out, unsure whether you were trying to lie to him or to yourself.

“Is this why you’re drenching my thigh, sweetie?” As if to emphasize his point, he bounced his knee again, causing it to press against your sensitive nerves with a force that made you moan involuntarily, your head falling to rest on his shoulder.

“You poor thing,” he cooed in your ear, his hand sliding to your lower back, urging you to grind down against him.

“Tonight—you put yourself in danger, Sylus.” You struggled to form coherent thoughts as you chased your orgasm on his thigh, your mind slowly turning to mush. “That was so stupid, even for you.” You finished your sentence with a moan, and Sylus groaned, instinctively moving his hips upward, his own hard-on seeking friction.

“Were you worried about me, kitten?” He dipped his head to your neck, his lips leaving open-mouthed kisses as he awaited your response, which never came. Sensing your hesitation to voice your concern, his hand slipped between your bodies, his fingertip pressing onto your throbbing clit, making you cry out. “Answer me.”

“I—yes. Yes, I was s'worried.” Your head fell back in bliss, granting him access to suck and nibble on your throat as your hips moved faster and harder. The tight coil in your belly was only a few movements away from bursting. “I thought I’d—”

“Go on.” Sylus urged, his fingers dancing over your clit as he bounced his knee in sync with your movements, relishing the way you were making a mess on him, your whole body heating under his touch.

“I thought I’d lost you.” The words escaped your lips just as your orgasm washed over you, making your vision go black and your entire body shake with its intensity. Sylus’s arms wrapped around you, caging you against his chest as he let you ride it out, offering the small comfort you sought after your confession.

When you finally came down from your high, you were breathless, panting, and a few tears had escaped your eyes. But he was there, holding you gently and running his fingers through your hair. “I’m not that easy to get rid of, sweetie.”

You pushed your head off his chest, your eyes meeting his soft red ones. Without thinking clearly, you reached out to cradle his face. The moment your fingertips made contact with his skin, his whole body visibly flinched, and just like his heartbeat, it felt like time had stopped.

Horrified and regretful, you realized you had let your emotions get the best of you and forgotten about your evol. You stood up from his lap, pressing your hands tightly against your chest, the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Just a few seconds. Just a few seconds, and he’ll wake up, like he always does, right? Doubts gnawed at you; he was so weak after tonight, but his evol would heal him. It had to.

Just when you were about to scream for help, Sylus’s chest began to rise and fall again. His eyes fluttered open, and relief flooded your entire being. Your shoulders slumped, and your body shook, even though he was alright. How could you have been so careless?

“Sweetie.” His voice was soft as he stood from his chair, towering over you. “Look at me.”

You tilted your head up hesitantly, your regrets gnawing at you for what you had just done. You tried to open your mouth to apologize, but no words came out; instead, his lips found yours, silencing any sound you might have made. He threaded his fingers through your hair, pulling gently to angle your head to the side and deepen the kiss until you thought you might faint from lack of breath.

This time, you made sure to keep your hands glued to your sides, not daring to touch him again. When he finally pulled away, you were both panting. He rested his forehead against yours and moved his hand to the back pocket of his pants, retrieving something.

You tilted your head to watch him unfold two pieces of leather gloves. He carefully took your wrist, drawing it toward him before placing the glove on your hand, then moved to the other to do the same. It was a temporary solution, one that frustrated you to no end, but you wouldn’t jeopardize his life just for a touch of his soft skin.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your thoughts crashing over you like a tsunami of negativity at the prospect of harming him. Your frustration only fueled your desperation, and you found yourself clawing at the remnants of his shirt, trying to pull him closer. “I need you, please, Sylus, ’m so sorry.”

Sylus groaned as he felt you tugging him nearer, his own hands finding refuge on your body, touching and caressing anywhere he could reach. “Are you sure, kitten? Once we start, I don’t know if I can hold back.” His voice was low and controlled, while your legs trembled with desire and need.

“Then don’t hold back. Give me everything you have. I can take it, Sylus.” You pressed kisses all over his exposed chest, making him gasp and thin his patience. In one swift motion, you found yourself lifted off the floor, your body cradled in one of his arms as he carried you toward his desk.

“You really know how to bring a man to his knees, sweetie.” He placed you gently on top of the desk, taking his position between your legs. Your lips connected again as his hands deftly worked to rid you of your clothes.

Once you were bare before him, he stepped back, his gaze roaming over your body like a starving man taking in a feast. “Breathtaking.”

He fell to his knees in front of you, throwing your legs over his shoulders with a force that sent you backward, your elbows bracing against the desk for balance. He was too impatient to tease; he dived right in, his tongue lapping at your folds with urgent fervor.

Your back arched immediately, moans and whimpers spilling from your lips as he worked his mouth on your cunt, devouring you as if you were his last meal. Your legs tightened around his head, the pleasure overwhelming, which only made him groan and feast on you harder.

His tongue plunged into your tight hole, sending shockwaves of sensation coursing through your body. You thought you could hold on a little longer, but when his large hand spread across your tummy, pressing down, you exploded in his mouth. Your vision went white as you drenched him, your thighs shaking violently around his head.

The realization of what you had done hit you when he pulled away, his chin and exposed chest glistening with droplets of your release. You shot your gloved hand to cover your mouth, your legs instinctively closing in embarrassment.

Yet, he looked even more exhilarated, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them apart as he positioned himself between them, his lips finding yours once more. “You’re going to do this again. And this time, you’re going to do it on my cock.”

He pushed you back, a firm hand on your chest as you lay spread out on top of his desk. Your eyes focused on his hands as they deftly undid his pants, pushing them down along with his briefs. The moment you saw his girthy cock—veiny and the tip angry and red for you—your mouth went dry.

You craved to satisfy him as he had satisfied you, but when you tried to sit up, his hand pressed you back down against the desk.

“Not tonight, sweetie. Right now, I just need to be inside you.”

Even though he spoke, he made no move to get on you, waiting for your consent first. You nodded, your eyes clouded with lust.

“Use your words, kitten. I need to hear you.” He was pumping his cock with his hand, his fingers barely wrapping around it. Standing before you in all his naked glory, he resembled a Greek statue, and your chest tightened at how wickedly beautiful he looked.

“Yes. Please, Sy, need you inside me.” Your voice came out breathless, and that was all the confirmation he needed. He wrapped an arm around your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the desk and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder to spread you open exactly as he desired.

He pushed the tip in at first, making you clench around him instinctively, as if trying to suck him deeper. An unsteady breath escaped him, and his body stuttered momentarily. You were killing him in the sweetest way. “So goddamn tight.”

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure as he pushed further inside you, his grip on your thigh tightening the moment he was fully buried in you, his pelvis pressing against yours. You could feel him all the way up into your stomach, and your legs began to shake, even though he remained still.

His breathing had turned erratic, and the moment your hips squirmed forward, his other hand came down to keep you in place. “Shit, baby, don’t move. Give me a moment.”

You were a whimpering mess, sweat beading on your forehead from the anticipation. But the instant he started moving, your whole body unlocked, turning to pudding under his thrusts. He began with a slow, deliberate pace, his lips parting as small grunts escaped him, each thrust igniting the fire building within you.

The more you clenched down on his cock, the faster he moved, until the desk scraped against the marble floor. “Fuck, kitten. You’re squeezing me so tightly.” His voice was thick with lust, and the sound of skin slapping against skin only intensified the fire burning deep in your core. “Do you love my cock that much?”

Your mind had turned to mush, thoughts consumed by how he stretched you and filled you to the brim. You nodded uncontrollably, crying out every time his cock brushed against your sweet spot. “Yes! I love it so much, Sy.”

“Good girl.” Sylus’s thrusts quickened as he heard your pretty sounds, the way your walls sucked him in making his thighs tremble slightly as he felt his release drawing near. “Such a good girl, so cock-hungry for me.”

“Ah— fuck.” Stars began to form behind your eyelids, your whole body rocking on the desk. If it weren’t for Sylus’s hands gripping your thighs, you would have slid right off and ended up on the floor from his relentless force. The desk shook violently from his pounding, and you were certain the whole house could hear you.

Sylus’s hand reached for your face, his thumb brushing against your lower lip before slipping past it to press down on your tongue, making you clench around his cock instinctively. “That’s it, sweetie,” he breathed, his eyes closing and his head tilting back in pleasure as your cunt hugged him tightly. “Give it to me; I can feel how close you are.”

You were indeed on the brink, your whole body burning and trembling under Sylus’s powerful thrusts. But what sent you over the edge was a sudden knock on the door, followed by Luke’s voice calling out to see if everything was alright.

The moment you realized you had been caught, and Luke could turn the doorknob at any second to find you spread for Sylus, his cock pressing against your cervix, you exploded. Your loud moans were partly muffled by the white-haired man's finger in your mouth. The pressure you applied around his cock as you climaxed made Sylus falter, his own orgasm crashing over him with a force he hadn’t anticipated.

His hot seed coated your walls, filling you to the brim and spilling out of you, trickling down your thighs as he continued to thrust, ensuring every last drop found its way inside. You were a crying, spent mess on his desk, while he tried to catch his breath, slowly lowering your leg back down from his shoulder.

Luke was long gone from outside the door, having heard enough to realize what was happening between you and Sylus.

You could only look up at him with a small shared chuckle before he leaned down to kiss your lips, his newfound gentleness contrasting sharply with the intensity of the moment. “I believe they received a lesson about eavesdropping now,” he murmured, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

[tsukimefuku]

3rd of july ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆.˚ nanami kento

piece written in collaboration with my beloved friend and one of my favorite people, @rahuratna, for nanami's (a.k.a. internet's collective husbando) birthday. 💜🧡 content warning: fluff/comedy/sugestiveness word count: 1k

Nanami wasn't one to make big celebrations on his birthday. Up until he met you, he'd usually go about his work day quietly, saving up a few extra hours to simply go bowling or visit his favorite restaurants for dinner.

After you both started dating, not much had changed. You'd simply tag along for whatever he had planned, and would usually surprise him with something by the time you both got home - a box of dark chocolate, a new set of lingerie, a nice warm scented bath, a new CD album he had been looking for.

This time, however, you decided to push your luck on teasing the poor man.

On his birthday, of all days.

"Kento, how do you feel about surprise parties?" you ask, hiding the smile pulled on your cheeks behind your tea cup.

On the couch by your side, you could feel Nanami holding the urge to flinch the moment you were finished speaking.

"They are not my favorite," he answers in earnest.

"Seriously?" you inquire with a faux disheartened look.

"Yes," Nanami replies, with a tinge of concern to his voice.

"That is... unfortunate, then," you ensue, putting your tea on the coffee table and pulling your robe tighter around your body.

His Adam's apple bobs as he silently gulps.

"Why?"

"Well, my plan was to surprise you when you got home, but I figured you wouldn't want to get instantly jumped. So I told them to wait in the room," you finally say, with a grave finality, pointing to the closed bedroom door.

Truth is, he has no clue what you are really up to.

"Darling…" Nanami sighs, ever so patiently, "I thought it would just be the both of us unwinding, like the past years."

"I… I'm sorry, I really wanted to surprise you with something different this time."

You do sound regretful, and he plants a soft kiss on your cheek in response. Even now, he doesn't quite find it in himself to be annoyed at you, even if the prospect of Gojo lurking around his bedroom is enough to send disgusted shivers down his spine.

"It's… fine. Let's get this over with at once, and then have the house to ourselves."

"Are you sure? I could always go in there and tell them to-"

"No," he counters firmly. "You've arranged something a little different this year, and I'm going to appreciate it."

"Come on, then."

As perceptive as he is, Nanami doesn't notice the mischievous smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. Naturally, since you have successfully planted a seed in his mind, a terrifying image of his pristine suits being tried on by students and his custom made bowling ball being transformed into a disco light by the white-haired menace he calls a colleague.

When you reach the door and step aside for him, he visibly braces himself, fingers almost straightening a phantom tie at his throat.

"Sweetheart, I need to go and fetch a scarf. It's a little chilly in here."

Bless his heart. He's actually playing along.

You raise your voice.

"Oh, I left the blue one on the top shelf. Your closet."

"Right."

Nanami heads in with the air of a man charging from the trenches to face a volley of cannon fire. He stops dead in his tracks, eyes taking in the room.

It is empty of people, for starters.

The comforter on the bed has been pulled back, the white sheets scattered with rose petals. Candles have been placed strategically on the bedside table and vanity, emitting the subtle scent of the ocean. On a corner of the bed, a few ribbon-wrapped gifts await; a small stack of books and a box of his favourite dark chocolate with orange.

You saunter in behind him and he turns to you with a look that is both a solemn reprimand and a loving promise of a punishment you may appreciate later.

"Hmm. It's awfully crowded in here, my dear."

"Well, the rose petals were quite chatty, Kento. They've taken up all the space on our bed."

"They have indeed, you little-"

You laugh as you slip out of his reach, standing coyly in the doorway.

"Have a look at your gifts first."

He narrows his eyes, but approaches the bed, fingers unraveling the ribbon that holds the books together.

"What do we have here? 'The Master and Margarita.' Ah, wonderful. 'Bowling your way home: A salaryman's escape from bondage.'"

He pauses and raises an eyebrow and you gesture airily for him to keep going.

"Fine. What's this one? The-"

His voice cuts off abruptly.

"Kento? Are you all right?"

Very slowly, he turns to you.

"You got me the Kama Sutra?"

"I figured it would make a nice addition to your collection. I may even borrow it, from time to time."

You approach him now, casually opening the book to where you've placed a strategic leather marker within the section on sex positions.

"Since it's your birthday, maybe you'd like to start with the Virsha here?"

He considers the page seriously, before taking the book from you and flipping through it.

"I'm not sure, darling. You've put in enough effort setting all of this up."

Handing it back to you, he watches the flush that spreads upwards, across your neck as you are presented with the Indrani pose he has chosen instead.

"How about you let me do the work from here on out?"

"Well... "

"No, I insist."

His voice has that special intonation now, the husky rumble of desire, the inflection of hushed intimacy, the promise of that playful nature that only reveals itself when you're entangled in the sheets together.

You lay the book down, open to the very instructive illustration.

"In that case, let me present you with my last gift."

"There's another?"

Wordlessly, the robe you've been so studiously arranging around yourself slides to the floor. His kindling gaze takes in the sheer, violet lace, the tiny flowers embroidered strategically over the parts of you that he will discover at leisure.

***

Later, when the gossamer material lies discarded on the floor, when his exhausted limbs entwine with your own, when his golden hair runs like silk between your fingers, you speak into the hush of the bedroom.

"Happy birthday, my love."

His voice is muffled from where his face is pressed against your stomach.

"That was quite the surprise party."

"Maybe we should have one every year."

He snorts indignantly, but his lips curve in a smile against your skin all the same.

[chubby-bun-bun]

untitled (part 6)

He helps you deal with a problem in his own thoughtful way—unconventional (and illegal) it may be.

nav: one, two, three, four, five, six (current) or: read on ao3

tags: sylus x reader, an au where you're an average citizen, slow burn, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, mentions of death, descriptions of a panic attack, problem-solving the n109 zone way

There’s nothing quite like dragging someone into your nonsense—especially when they always let you get away with it.

After that impromptu Frostlight holiday hangout, the long-overdue coat-and-sweater handover felt far less nerve-wracking, even during the meetups that followed. Over the past few weeks, you’ve managed to whisk the busy fruit vendor away to some of the most random spots the city has to offer.

Sometimes, your plans are scenic: the aquarium, park strolls, cozy cafes, trendy restaurants, and curated museums. Other times, they’re chaos incarnate: amusement park rides, escape rooms, and that one rage room session sparked by your urge to send your manager to the afterlife. While Sylus’ schedule frequently takes him out of the city doing whatever it is that in-demand fruit vendors do, you’ve come to appreciate the effort he puts into showing up whenever he can.

(You’re yet to successfully pay for anything. No matter how sneaky you try to be with the waiters and cashiers, he always seems to be one step ahead, swiping his card before you can even reach for yours.)

Funny enough, the more time you spend together, the less you view him through rose-tinted glasses. You've grown to look past his conventional looks and genuinely enjoy his company—especially his deadpan tendencies and razor-sharp wit. That doesn’t mean you’ve stopped obsessing over your appearance before hanging out with him, though. You still agonize over your outfit, fuss over your hair, and polish every detail you can catch in the mirror before stepping out of the house. You can’t help it. But in many ways, you’ve also grown comfortable enough to be yourself around him and bother him with your shenanigans.

Like so.

[You] You sent fruit man a link. [You] let’s go ୧(•ᴗ•)୨ [fruit man] Now why would a kitten go to a cat cafe? [fruit man] Visiting your colony mates? [You] because i said so [You] LETS GO

And so, here you are at the cat café you frequent, gently petting the resident caracal you've grown so fond of.

The café staff often marvel at how calm he is with you, noting that while he doesn't harm anyone, he tends to hiss at every guest and employee. No one else seems to have managed to break through his haughty exterior like you have. Now, the giant feline is practically putty in your arms, its massive paws kneading biscuits into your thankfully jean-covered thighs. 

You tell Sylus as much, smugly stroking its floppy ears.

“Well aren’t you comfortable?” he drawls, glancing at the cat.

“He sure is!” you coo, planting a big, fat kiss on its fluffy head.

You miss the way he narrows his eyes at the feline. “Your drink’s getting cold,” he says, pointing at your neglected cup on the table. “Shouldn’t you finish it while it’s warm?” 

You hold the caracal’s face, its big, round eyes tugging at your heartstrings. “Yup!”

You continue cooing at the cat, massaging its ears. Sylus scowls.

“This café seems to have quite the selection of pastries,” he comments airily, head tilted back as he skims through the barely readable menu above the counter. “Do you have any recommendations?”

That perks you up, snapping your gaze back to him and pausing your petting. “I think they have some seasonal goods this time of the year! I’ll take a look for you. Stay here.”

With that, you get up, sneak in another scratch under the big furball's chin, and take your leave. Once you’re out of earshot, Sylus smirks at the cat, who hisses at him.

“Know your place, little one.”

He’s met with another discontented hiss.

As your eyes trace the elegant cursive of the overhead menu board, you absently note the familiar chime of the café door. Your focus flits from brownies to croissants, savory dishes to frothy lattes, until a featured seasonal s’mores cookie catches your attention. Your mouth waters. Maybe Sylus would like this?

The decision is cut short when you’re abruptly shoved against the counter, the edge biting into your abdomen. A sharp yelp escapes you as pain blooms, forcing your palm to press against the throbbing spot. Rattled, you spin around.

“Excuse me—“

The words die on your tongue.

Standing before you is a man in a crisp white button-up, the sleeves rolled neatly above his forearms. He must be important—if the expensive-looking suit jacket draped over his shoulder is anything to go by. 

But it’s not the over-gelled hair, the tacky accent color of his suit pieces, his inability to use his inside voice in a small café, nor his apparent lack of spatial awareness that has you frozen in place.

This is the guy that killed your family.

You're sure of it.

You can’t be mistaken. How can you be mistaken? 

That smirk—cocky and insufferable—has been seared into your memory since the day you sat in that cramped police room, papers shaking in your hands as his lawyer delivered their settlement offer. You’ve never fully remembered the details of that day, but the sinister curl of his lips as he shook your hand would haunt you till the day you die.

He’s talking. Laughing. With a woman at his side and a man on the other. Maybe they’re his colleagues? You’re not sure.

You’re going to be sick.

Ears ringing, you hold a hand out as you move to the café’s door. The dull gleam of the sun registers faintly, along with the jagged pattern of the sidewalk bricks and the discarded, empty cup beneath a bush. As you stumble outside, the cool air bites sharply, unforgiving against your exposed skin.

Then you’re in the alley, doubled over by the dumpster, heaving until there’s nothing left but bile and ragged breaths.

What are you doing?

You know time doesn't stop. It never has, and it never will—not even in the face of mortal loss. The world doesn’t get to pause for your grief; people will still go to work, teachers will still hold their classes, the sun will still rise, and people will still find joy and laughter in their everyday lives. Death is inevitable and universal. Some face it sooner, some in ways more cruel than others—but in the end, it claims everyone.

You know this. You know this.

So why does it feel like your graduation day all over again?

You don’t know how long you’ve been hunched over, knees and palms pressing painfully against the rough concrete. Gradually, the ringing in your ears begins to subside, and you slowly discern the distant garble of words behind you and the grounding hold on your back.

“...You’re okay. I’m here, sweetie. Come back to me. You're okay.”

Large, calloused hands cradle your jaw with careful tenderness, gently guiding you to meet a pair of worried scarlet eyes. The moment your unfocused gaze regains some semblance of clarity, he lets out a slow exhale, the cold air puffing around him.

“There you are,” he murmurs, smiling slightly.

“...Sylus?”

He traces a finger along your cheek. “Did something happen?”

The spell breaks, and a wave of heat rises up your neck as you finally register your form on the ground, your unpleasant mess just beside you. Worse, you’ve inconvenienced him. And for what? For some overreaction to a man you had already agreed to settle things with?

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” you say with a shaky laugh, trying to push yourself up. But your knees give way, and you collapse back onto the ground. Shuddering from the impact of the cold, wet concrete, you flash him an embarrassed smile. “I, uh, might need a few more moments.”

Without a word, he lifts you by the armpits, a startled squeak escaping you as he effortlessly cradles you in his arms. He gently guides you to sit on one solid bicep, then scoops up your fallen bag with his free hand. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck.

“Wait—”

“You don’t have to tell me what happened,” he says as he begins his trek toward his parked SUV. “You’re not obligated to explain yourself to anyone.”

Your breath catches. He opens the door to the passenger seat and carefully lowers you onto the plush leather. Leaning down, he meets your gaze, his forearm resting on the roof’s edge.

“But know that you don’t deserve to have your feelings or experiences downplayed—especially not by yourself.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

Sylus settles into the driver's seat, the engine purring to life as he starts the drive, presumably toward your house. He must be thinking that a familiar, comforting place would be best for you right now.

A wave of guilt washes over you for cutting your time together short, especially since you were really looking forward to surprising him with that s’mores cookie. But the words won’t come, lodged tight in your throat.

By the time you reach your neighborhood, the sky has darkened. Just as he pulls up, ready to open his door, you reach out, placing your hand on his forearm.

"Sylus, I..."

Your voice falters.

To your surprise, he takes your hand in his, his fingers brushing over yours in a gentle caress. He doesn’t rush you. No hint of impatience. Just a quiet, comfortable presence, giving you the space to breathe and find your words.

Slowly, you tell him everything.

Keeping his earlier words in mind, you tell the facts as they are, your emotions as they unfolded. You describe the accident, how it happened, and the events that followed—the pressure to accept the settlement offer, the intimidation. You talk about the loneliness that set in, the growing distance between you and those you once felt close to, all because their happiness became too much to bear. How the world kept moving, while you felt trapped in the same place, stuck in time.

You talk about how you saw the driver again in the café earlier, how it resurfaced all those unpleasant memories and unearthed emotions you’d buried. Despite his advice on not minimizing yourself, you let an apology slip for letting things get to you and cutting your hangout short as a result.

You don’t tell him, but his presence in your life—albeit unexpected and fairly new—has done wonders in pulling back the heavy darkness weighing you down. You hope the depth of your gratitude comes across in the way you hold his hand, gripping it tightly, like it’s the only thing keeping you from sinking.

“Wow, I feel much better,” you finally say, laughing shakily at how silly your earlier reaction seems now. You squeeze his hand gently. “Thanks for listening to me, Sy. I really appreciate it.”

You miss the way his eyes flash at the nickname.

You watch as he examines your reddened eyes and watery lashes, his expression unreadable, before squeezing your hand in return. “I’m just honored that you trusted me enough to share that with me.”

You muster a grin. “I promise to make up for earlier. I've been dying to try this new recipe I found. How about a box of experimental cookies?”

After a brief pause, he lets out a low chuckle. “As long as it’s edible,” he says, lips curling into a smirk, effectively dissipating the lingering tension.

You give his arm a soft whack. “You’re gonna regret it when they turn out actually good!”

He sighs, gazing at where you swat at him with faux pity. “What, with that little kitten pat?”

After a few rounds of bickering—with you insisting that it was not a little kitten pat—you finally exchange your goodbyes. Stepping out of his SUV, you wave cheekily, heading toward your doorstep. He returns the gesture, his wave a little slower, as he waits for you to reach the door.

As soon as you turn your back, the bright scarlet in his eyes dulls to a dangerous crimson hue, black-red tendrils barely contained within a closed fist.

—

You stare up at the building in front of you, mouth agape.

At least eight stories high, its grandeur is impossible to miss, even amidst the notable luxury shops and high-end establishments of the uptown plaza. Massive windows stretch across the facade, their panes glinting like polished gems in the late afternoon light. At its center, a grand arched entrance commands attention, flanked by twin marble columns with gold detailing. The architecture is reminiscent of those vintage and timeless mansions you always see on royalty-themed documentaries.

Discreetly, you pull out your phone to scroll through your conversation with Sylus, double-checking the maps link he sent.

[You] sy!! [You] the cookies turned out pretty good!! [You] i wanna give you some [You] should we meet up?? [fruit man] Congrats on the successful outcome of your baking experiment sweetie. [fruit man] When do you want to hand them over? [You] i was thinking today if it’s ok! they taste best while they’re still fresh [fruit man] I might run late due to a meeting. why don’t you head here while theres still light out? [fruit man] We can go have dinner after. [fruit man] fruit man sent you a link. [You] oooh is this the place you’re staying at? [fruit man] Its an old guest lodging I run. [fruit man] Its convenient for whenever I have business in Linkon.

You stare at the screen incredulously, then glance back up at the towering behemoth before you. This is the old guest lodging he was talking about? You’re no lodging connoisseur, but you’re pretty sure this is a five-star hotel.

Deciding not to question it further lest you get a headache, you square your shoulders and step inside.

Immediately, you feel like an outsider as you pass through the elegant interior, your gaze flitting between the extravagant glass chandelier and the plush velvet sofas in the vast lounge area. Even the guests moving about look like they own at least three vacation homes around the world, like they spend their weekends at the golf club for fun.

A staff member approaches to greet you, her gloved hands neatly clasped as she dons an excellent customer service smile.

“Welcome to the Noir Manor! Do you have a reservation?”

“Um, no." Crap, even your voice sounds out of place. "But I’m here for Sylus?”

Her eyes widen. She reaches into the pocket of her work skirt and pulls out a small notebook, swiftly scanning its pages. She reads your name aloud, her eyes flicking to you for confirmation.

“That’s me, yes,” you say, fingers fiddling with the handle of your wooden picnic basket.

Without missing a beat, she pulls a walkie-talkie from her breast pocket.

“Attention, over. We’ve got white dove in the lobby. Please be advised. Over.”

She then tucks the device back and turns to you with a more genuine smile.

"Mr. Sylus is currently in a meeting on the top floor, but he’ll be finishing shortly. Please, make yourself comfortable in the lounge area in the meantime."

You don’t need to be told twice. The wide lobby space and high ceilings are starting to make you feel claustrophobic. After relaying your thanks, you beeline for the single sofa chair at the farthest end.

You’re content enough just admiring the impressive architecture and interior design of the place, but strangely, hotel staff keep coming up to you every few minutes, bringing fresh pastries and tea. They also keep bringing in soft throw pillows, helping you settle more comfortably in your comically large seat. The attention has you mortified—both from the employees and the guests casting furtive glances at the table they brought over, laden with your private snack spread.

Desperate to shake off your nerves, you scan the room again, your eyes immediately locking onto the massive widescreen TV mounted on the pillar near the lobby desk. It’s muted, but the bold headlines and auto-generated captions on the news report are more than enough for you to follow along.

You barely make out the words flashing across the screen. Something about the new CEO of a prominent national bank chain drunk driving down the highway and crashing into a streetlight pole. The family has apparently urged the local police to investigate for foul play, citing the unnaturally high speed he was driving. An image of the driver flashes on screen.

You stand up abruptly, your pulse hammering in your ears.

It's the guy at the café.

Your family’s killer.

He’s dead.

“There better not be a missing cookie in there,” an amused voice says from behind you, making you jump.

Sylus. He’s wearing a patterned maroon button-up. Normally, the exposed collarbone beneath his inner white shirt would have you looking away, heat rising to your cheeks. But you're too stunned by what you’ve just learned to even register it.

Your thousand-yard stare has him frowning. He rests a hand on your shoulder, the other tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear.

“Everything alright, kitten?”

Words catch in your throat as you weakly point a finger toward the TV, the report now showing a live interview with the former CEO—the driver’s father. Apparently, they’re filing for bankruptcy by the end of next year’s first quarter and are asking for prayers during their difficult time.

You don’t see Sylus’ face, your eyes drifting in and out of focus on the gold pendant of his necklace. Instead, you feel him gently guide your head against his chest, a hand softly patting your back in a soothing rhythm.

“If anything, he had it coming.”

The vibration of his voice hums against your ear, and you exhale, your eyes fluttering shut. "It just feels surreal, I guess," you mumble, your hands hanging limply at your sides. "I mean, I just saw him, what, two weeks ago?"

A brief silence hangs between you before he pulls back, carefully cupping your cheeks and guiding your bleary gaze to meet the intense scarlet of his.

“How about showing me what you've made for me? I've been looking forward to tasting it with you all afternoon.”

You nod absentmindedly, allowing him to guide you to the private elevator concealed behind the lobby desk. With your bow-adorned basket in one hand, he flicks a finger over his shoulder. Instantly, the staff moves with practiced ease, swiftly tidying up your previous spot in the lounge.

As the elevator doors close and begin their ascent to his office on the top floor, he gently coaxes you out of your dazed state, sharing stories about a fishing excursion he recently took up north. He laments his lack of catch during the three-day trip, especially since it was supposed to be the prime season for a rare species in the area.

Had you been more present, you would’ve noticed that, despite his apparently horrendous luck, he seems awfully chipper.

note: i'm 6 parts in and i still can't decide on a title 🧍‍♀️

nav: one, two, three, four, five, six (current) or: read on ao3

tag list: @thepotatoislost, @xxfaithlynxx, @browneyedgirl22, @vorfreudevortex, @midiplier, @wisteriaflowersss, @euclase0, @leighsartworks216, @keyiswatching, @goldenbirdiee, @delaythings, @datura109, @iloveboysinred, @everythingistaken00, @moonlight-inthe-sea, @blueberrysquire, @mourning-into-dancing, @bookfreakk, @everywherenothere, @vvhira, @laidenbreecatchall, @kyushii, @lucifer-says-hii, @sylus-crow, @carmelves, @nishayuro, @comatosebunny09, @withering-dream, @rmjace2, @tinnyrabbit, @socutesotall

check out my other works!

[folkling]

Windbrook Save 2.0 (In collaboration with @cowboycid and @bobnewbie)- Feat. a family by @oshinsimss

DISCLAIMER: While this is a CC free save file, it is pack and kit heavy. To give more context, this save utilizes ALL EPs, GPs, and SPs (except My First Pets) as well as ALL KITS (except Bust The Dust and Poolside Splash) While you may not own every pack or kit that I used, the save file is still playable. Everything missing will be substituted.

What's new in 2.0

Willow Creek has new homes, rentals, and one new retail lot

Newcrest has been built (restaurant, gym, retail, and generic lots)

Magnolia Promenade has been built, while somewhat finished, still needs work

Every lot that's finished (including commercial) and families have descriptions, stories, jobs, etcetera

New townies from @simsontherope and @cowplant-snacks

Families from @bobnewbie

A special family, The Westfalls made exclusively by @oshinsimss

Special collaboration with @cowboycid

Other worlds are still empty, I do plan on building new worlds

SCREENSHOTS AND MORE INFO BELOW

SPECIAL THANKS

First and foremost I want to thank my good good friend @cowboycid for collaborating with me on this project. I'm so happy we met when we did because I was starting to lose light. You inspired me to keep going, and for that I appreciate you DOWN. You're a real one sis, no tea. Hugs and kisses for ever. I also want to thank @bobnewbie for coming through with families. You don't understand just how life saving they were. I didn't get a chance to use all of them, and my original concept for the save fell through due to time constraints, but I'm thankful to have had access to the diverse array of families you made for the save. A huge thank you to @oshinsimss for taking the time to create a beautiful family, The Westfalls, exclusively for Windbrook 2.0, I love them so much. Also a big thank you to @cowplant-snacks and @simsontherope for their townies. Without them, the townies would just be... ugh, you know. So, thank you for having them available on the gallery. I also want to thank @anthonydaydreamer for just showing up for me through this whole process. Like, you just get it boo! Hugs and kisses! Finally a quick apology to those I intended on sending preview copies of the save. Time was not on my side near the end, things took more time than I thought. Honestly, I needed to get this project off my computer ASAP. I really hope you guys understand. Big hugs and kisses. Thank you everyone for all the kind words and support over these past few months, your words kept me going, even if I didn't feel I had anymore left to give. This save is a love letter to you all, the simblr community.

Thank you, honestly, truly.

*terrain replacement in screenshots by K-hippie, you don’t need it, it’s just for screenshots + updated download link to include The Westfalls made by @oshinsimss for Windbrook 2.0 - please find more info here*

*updated download as of 10/11/23*

Download (SIMFILESHARE)

TOU: Don't upload any part of this save to any platform without explicit permission, thank you.

[n0tamused]

Jiyaaaan request coming your way~

While training his soldiers, one of them accidentally calls him 'Dad'. This leads to the reader teasing them but Jiyan teases back by calling them 'Mom' (or the gender neutral for it?)

(Was reading tv tropes and Jiyan had the 'A Father to his Men' tropes in his character tab lol)

A/n: Anon this request was so sweet, thank you sm for sending it in! Jiyan the father of an army fr.. I do hope I executed it well. Enjoy!

Content: Jiyan x F!Reader, fluff and playful stuff, nothing more

The morning sun had long since shifted its axis towards the center of the sky, blazing down through cotton clouds that sailed the azure skies. Below them, in the open fields, west of the main base cacophony sounded, consisting of commands, groans and other sounds of effort as the Midnight Ranger performed their training. And today Jiyan had come to overlook the session himself, although it wouldn’t be the first time. He was often so preoccupied with tasks at the front lines that he didn’t have the time to be leading drills too frequently, but when he did get the chance to do so he would take it. While it wasn’t a full reprieve from the battle, it was still a stark contrast to the grotesque and twisted fates he’d see daily on the battlefield.

Jiyan was noticeably more disheveled by the end, hair messy and hanging in strands and clinging to his sweaty forehead, hands on his hips as his voice rose to meet all ears present. You have just been passing by, helping carry supplies that just came in, and loading old and empty boxes back to be refilled in the city. For once there was no rush that would make your legs ache or your lungs hurt, allowing you all the precious time to bask in the views, the soft chatter and, of course, your dear lover.

The sun caught his figure and formed a golden aura around him, his skin glistening, and you couldn’t help but take a seat at one of many big boxes at the side of the training grounds after you had finished your task. In passing you caught a few looks, and a few smiles of the soldiers you knew from before. They looked much  more lively, despite the rigorous training they just went through. It made your heart warm seeing them in better spirits, wishing nothing more than to see them prevail and be happy. And just as you had recognized a bunch of familiar faces did Jiyan conclude his small speech, about to dismiss everyone with advice of rest hanging on every word. He had spotted you from the start, when you were going by with supplies in arms and soon he’d have a chance to speak to you too, he thought.

“General Jiyan! General Jiyan, a word or two- if I may?” 

It was a voice of one of the new recruits, Jiyan noted as he gazed at the face of the youth, a boy of twenty or so years by the looks of it, and eyes full of curiosity and admiration. He had come up to Jiyan just as he had turned towards you, prompting him to stay rooted in his spot a little longer. A few more young rangers came up behind the recruit, sharing the same curiosity but also being aware of whatever the recruit had on his mind.

“Yes? Is there something you need?” Jiyan questioned, looking at the young man. From his peripheral vision he spotted you moving down from the boxes and joining his side, staying quiet after a short word of greeting towards his Rangers, but your presence felt like a cool breeze under this sun, and he appreciated it all the more.

“I just wanted to say how great today’s training session was, we learned so much more than we did with our drill sergeant” he praised, smiling up at Jiyan all the while, “And I just wanted to ask whether or not you’ll be leading our training session tomorrow as well? Or any other day that is, we would really benefit from your teaching. I mean, you've seen it all for yourself at the front lines!"

The other few with him nodded along, prompting a small smile of pride to form on your face from seeing their fascination with Jiyan. To them he was everything they aspired to be - strong, enduring, tough but not lacking kindness or knowledge. There were times where they were scared to approach him, not knowing how he’d react to their questions, but from observing his interactions with others they warmed up to the idea and plucked all their courage. 

A polite smile curled up on Jiyan’s face as he regarded the youth with gentle golden eyes. His presence as the drill sergeant today wasn’t due to his availability, but a simple coincidence and necessity to fill the shoes of their drill sergeant that had been injured due to Tacet Discords, and Jiyan just happened to be able to be there. “Ah, you have my thanks, rangers. If a replacement for your drill sergeant does not arrive tomorrow and I am not required to be at the front lines, then I will be leading your training tomorrow as well” he told them, which pleased them greatly to hear.  “Although I’m sure Sargent Jin’xi has much more to teach you, something much more important for your sound development in this profession. You cannot take his method lightly. He has seen everything I have, as well. His knowledge is as valuable to your growth, and even more so than mine. You need the good foundation he can give you” He was aware of how confusing or hard it could be to listen to Jin’xi, as the sergeant had quite the eye for details and slow progress in lessons due to his meticulous nature - but that also made him all the better for his station. He was observant and could pluck out bad behavior and mistakes like weeds, and that is better to be done here, than in the middle of battle.

“We know, general, but sergeant Jin’xi is just so hard on us.. sometimes it really seems like he has no limit” one of the women standing behind voiced, earning a look from Jiyan that spoke of his understanding but also his disagreement with the subtle message they were trying to send - please, replace sergeant Jin’xi, or, save us.

“Yeah! One time I accidentally mixed up the weapons in the storage room and he had me do everything on my own again, saying how such mistakes can’t happen on the front lines, how it all means life or death” the first young man said, brushing his fingers through his hair and sighing. “I understand it, but we just got here..” he added and looked at his comrades. 

What was supposed to be a short chit-chat turned swiftly into a gossip galore about Jin’xi. Had Jiyan been any different from the man he was currently, he would’ve scolded them, taken offense at how they spoke about his colleague, but he was in their shoes once, always on edge around the higher ups, and he wished not to bring that same unease to them. He didn’t fail to remind them to not speak like this in front of everyone, and to respect sergeant Jin’xi when he does eventually return, and they gave him their word.

The first young man that approached looked at Jiyan after their discussion, both hands on his hips and looking more relaxed. “We won’t forget that, I promise on my last name! Still, we appreciate your kindness, and one more thing dad- I MEAN- GENERAL!” His entire face crumbled into a look of terror, and all eyes of the group shot to him, looks of surprise and amusement appearing before several of them erupted into laughter after taking a wary glance at Jiyan - who was not offended.

“General Jiyan! Oh god- I apologize, general, I don’t know where that came from-” he stammered, shaking his head and his hands, face flushed from sheer embarrassment. More choked words tumbled out of his mouth, desperate to excuse himself and forget about this. 

Jiyan can’t help but chuckle, the corners of his lips twitching in a failed attempt to hold back his smile. “At ease, recruit. You have not done any crime” he nods at the other, his eyes softening and not showing any sign that he’s about to dish out some punishment - that’d be ridiculous. 

You can’t help but crack a laugh too, covering your lips with your hand as to stifle the sound, but your mirth was evident in your eyes. “Have I missed a chapter? I didn’t know you had kids, general Jiyan” you teased, earning a few shocked but heavily amused looks from the group. Giggles erupted once more, all stifled as they waited for Jiyan to respond to the quip.

Jiyan turns his head to look at you, his eyes boring into yours and questioning your intentions - you can read the thoughts going through your head and your smile only widens in a silent call to a challenge of wits. He didn’t expect you to say something like that, but he could only huff, hiding his amusement under an abrupt guise of confusion.

“Kids?.. Why, I had hoped you’d recognize your own kids, Miss (L/N)” he shot back instantly, making your jaw drop at his rebuttal, a gasp flying past your mouth. “General” you said, accusations plenty heard in your tone as the atmosphere melted into one of jest and play.

Many eyes flickered between you and him, taking in the easy way you conversed with one another.

“Yes? What’s the surprise for? The recruits look up to you too, if you fail to notice. You can confirm with them right now” he is shifting the spotlight to you, and the recruits are quick to jump in too. “It is right, miss. Personally I haven’t been around you for long, no longer than I interacted with the General, but you two are alike, you treat us new ones with a firm but kind hand” a young woman said, smiling at you, and you feel your heart climb into your throat. 

“Can we really be surprised, they’re always together too-” "Aren't they married?" Whispering is heard amidst the group, and Jiyan looks amidst the faces to catch the one that said that but fails to do so, or refuses to weed out the individuals, and his eyes go back to you to catch your response. It’d be a lie to say your relationship with him was a secret, everyone knew there was something deeper between the two of you, something you didn’t show in public due to the war and status, but it was undeniably there. Still, hearing it loud and clear like this was like a splash of cold water. Despite their chatter, the group remained respectful, sweet in their musings.

“Ah, quiet, I do not want to hear it. This is about you, General”

“Ah, don’t run from it now. You’re the one that started this” he commented, rolling his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest. “Anyway, you’re all dismissed. I have a word with.. mother over here. Off you all go. I will see you all in the morning for another training drill. Get some rest” he speaks to the group, gazing upon their faces, only to see how they looked at him with some sort of childhood wonder, and that’s when he realized he must be flushed too. A sheepish smile bloomed on his face. 

“Alright! Awesome-” “Yes, sir!"

“Have a good day, General! And you too, Miss!” 

He watched them leave, bidding them all farewell, and when he turned to face you again he saw you pinching the bridge of your nose, hiding away the biggest smile of the day, the apples of your cheeks redder than before. The Midnight Rangers were undeniably close in connection, having spent so many nights and days huddled together for warmth or laughs or protection, and this small exchange only warmed Jiyan’s heart, to witness how positively they felt around him - and you. 

“Didn’t think we’d become parents so soon. Have we gotten that old already?” Jiyan commented, tone softer in a way he only addressed you when you were alone, and there was no one near the training grounds to hear you.

“Oh, shut up, Jiyan-” you playfully snapped, biting your lip as you looked up at him, stifling a giggle. “You are unbelievable!”

“Hm? Did you expect me to stay quiet today or ignore your quips?” he smiled bigger and you have to admire the little dimples in his cheeks as the smile reaches his eyes, making them squint at you softly.

“I don’t know what I expected, but your response was certainly the last thing I expected” you replied and shook your head, as if that would shake off the redness tinting your skin, imitating him now by crossing your arms. The two of you were looking at each other, wordlessly admiring your red faces while throwing these little quips at one another. 

“Ah.. you’ll get used to it, dearest wife”

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[sungstars]

┊NOW OUT. two boyfriends dress them up like twins. (psh x afab!reader x kjw)

┊synopsis. youre the head basketball cheerleader at your university and just so happen to be hooking up with the captain of the basketball team, yang jungwon. you may also be hooking up with the co-captain and jungwon’s best friend, sunghoon. what’s the worst that could happen?

┊WORD COUNT. 7.6k

┊WARNING. MINORS DNI. 18+. smut.. porn little plot. reader is messy as fuck. jungwon is also messy. isa is mentioned just for some plot building. p in v, squirting, protected sex (yay), unprotected sex (not yay), face fucking, swallowing, fingering (f. rec) , oral (f&m rec.), threesome, cumming inside, sorta some angst. i think that’s everything!

┊authors note. WOWWW after 5 months, i finally finished and posted this! i’m so sorry for such a delay on this, but i wanted to make sure i put my best into it! i will be working on the next installment of this fic soon! it will definitely not take me five months to post! should i do it in chronological order or who would you guys like to read about next? it’s been a long time since i’ve written a smut fic, so hopefully this is up to your standards! likes & reblogs are appreciated! my asks are also open so please send me some! thank you!!!

┊taglist! @strawberrywonz @denleave1088 @sunjaywoning @having-an-internal-crisis-rn @sjakewrld @lovewonkiki @rikisly @forrds

You loved game days. You loved how everyone would buzz with excitement, how you got to dress up, how many eyes would be on you. Everyone knew who they came to watch, and it wasn’t the basketball team.

Even the team knew it, their eyes lingering a moment too long instead of focusing on the court.

Especially when the captain, Jungwon, would noticeably bite his lip and miss the basketball flying at his head. That was a moment for the books, especially because it was his co-captain Sunghoon. You basked in the attention.

You giggled to yourself at the memory as you adjusted your red bow to sit comfortable at the top of your head.

As you were about to apply your lip gloss, your phone buzzed once, then twice, then three times. You were going to yell at your phone in annoyance, but quickly changed your demeanor when you saw who it was.

wonnie 🎀: hey pretty girl

wonnie 🎀: will i be seeing you tonight?

wonnie 🎀: you ditched me after the last game, i think you should make it up to me?

Instead of replying, you left him on seen. He thinks you owe him because you “ditched” him?

Jungwon is many things, but he is not a fool. He knew that you didn’t ditch him, you just weren’t going to wait around while he felt up one of the other cheerleaders.

So if he considers you ignoring his phone calls and texts asking where you are, or “please pick up angel” ditching him, sure.

You weren’t making it up to him though, that’s for damn sure. However, you’re sure it would be fun to fuck with his head.

y/n 🌷: okay :).

y/n 🌷: i’ll see you after the game.

Your message was almost read immediately, but you quickly closed out of it, not wanting to give him any satisfaction of you waiting for a reply.

Instead, you clicked out of his name, muted his messages, and scrolled to the one you really wanted to see tonight.

y/n: are you busy after the game?

Within seconds, a reply came through.

BEST DICK EVER: for you? never.

y/n: perfect <3. meet at my place?

The moment the game was over, you felt relief take over your entire body. It was a rough game, and unfortunately your team lost by a plethora of points.

They looked sad, and as hard as you tried to keep cheering them on, even your spirits were slightly crushed.

So as soon as the final buzzer rang and the players went back to their respective locker rooms, you booked it to the parking lot.

There was only so much time you had to get ready, and you couldn’t waste even a moment. Your teammates noticed your quick exit, but decided not to comment on it, towards you at least.

You would have to send out a group message later to explain yourself later, but for now, your mind was set on getting ready for your company.

The first call came in as you were turning into your apartment building, and you decided to let it ring. Maybe Jungwon would think you fell asleep, but you both knew better than that.

The second call came in as you unlocked your door, and this time you decided to answer.

“What?” You asked in an annoyed tone, “I didn’t answer for a reason.”

“Where are you?” Jungwon replied in an even more annoyed tone, “I don’t see you.”

“Because I’m not there,” You threw your keys onto the table and removed your white tennis shoes before walking towards your bedroom, “I have plans.”

“Yeah, I know,” He bit back, “With me.”

“Oh no,”

“What?”

You tried to stifle your laugh at his reaction, “Oh, so you weren’t too busy feeling up Isa to notice that I left?”

Jungwon groaned into the phone, “Get over that y/n, it’s not like we exclusively fuck.”

“Last time I checked, you were begging to see me after that game, begging me to let you hit because you, in your words, couldn’t wait to feel how tight I am around you, couldn’t wait to make me come undone your fingers because I looked so hot cheering for you,” You spat back, “I don’t remember you telling me you meant to send that to her.”

“She approached me, and plus, I tried to call you later that night,”

“I don’t want her sloppy seconds,” You cut him off, “So let’s try this again next week.”

You hung up the phone and threw it on your bed, anger boiling inside, who the fuck did Jungwon think he was? You are nobody’s second option.

Instead of dwelling on Jungwon, you carefully removed your cheer uniform, hanging it up in the closet and removing the bow from your head.

You could not wait to get the tight ponytail out and let your curls breathe before they get ruined in other ways.

Ping!

Again, your phone went off, and you knew it wasn’t Jungwon, he was still muted from earlier. A small smile plastered on your face, and quickly dropped because you were not ready.

You stood in nothing but the team branded sports bra and your safety shorts, but fuck, it didn’t matter. It’s not like they would be on for too long anyway.

BEST DICK EVER: i’m here angel

Quickly, you went to open the door and practically swung it open.

There stood none other than Park Sunghoon. His dark hair was damp from the shower he must’ve taken at the facility, and there was an unreadable glint in his eyes.

“Well, are you going to invite me in or just stare at my arms?”

You scoffed, “Was not.”

You shifted to the left to let him in, eyes lingering on how defined his chest and arms look in that confining white tee.

“Maybe a little,” You admit as he takes his shoes off and makes his way to your couch, “Or a lot.”

Sunghoon took his place on the couch, looking at you expectantly as you made your way to stand between his legs.

“Missed you,” His hands came up to hold your hips, “You did great tonight.”

“Did great or looked great?”

A laugh escaped his lips and his thumb began stroking your hip bone, “Can’t it be both?”

You closed your eyes, basking in his touch for a moment before he pulled you down to straddle his thighs, “You did great tonight too, Hoon. You always do.”

He stared at your features, taking you in as you looked at, biting your lip ever so slightly.

“So,” He broke the silence, hand traveling to the small of your back, “Are you going to let me eat it?”

You hummed in thought, “Maybe,” Your hands went up to his shoulders, fingers gracefully skimming over his silver chain, “Only if you let me wear this.”

He cocked his eyebrow, intrigued nonetheless, “You wear all of your sneaky links chains?”

“Maybe,” You shrugged, “But that doesn’t matter, I wanna wear yours.”

“What my pretty girl wants, Sunghoon removed his hands from your thighs to unclasp his necklace, “She gets.”

Sunghoon brought it around your neck, watching it lay between your tits, “And damn do you look good in Tiffany.”

Your face flushed, at a loss for words as Sunghoon moved you to lay back on the couch and he was now sitting between your legs, “You look so pretty wearing my chain, I bet you look even better wearing just that .”

His hands moved up to your sports bra, fingers dancing over your nipples before sliding them under the hem.

The contract made you gasp, his lithe fingers were cold against your nipples. Sunghoon pushed your bra up until your tits were on full display, bringing one of your nipples to your mouth.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, small moans leaving your mouth at the contact.

Sunghoon began to kiss down your stomach, hands still rolling your nipples around in his nimble fingers. Once he reached your safety shorts, he looked up at you with a lustful look.

He took the thin fabric between his teeth, pulling it down slowly, exposing your glistening cunt to his hungry eyes. His fingers hooking underneath the fabric to pull them down your legs.

Sunghoon stared at you, his hand caressing your right thigh as he lifted your left thigh to rest on his shoulder.

“I fucking love this cunt,” His sweet tone dripped like honey, “You get so wet for me so easily baby, I’ve never seen such a more perfect cunt.”

You let out a sigh, unsure what to say, but you didn’t have to say anything. Sunghoon used two fingers to spread you before laying his tongue flat against your core.

His free hand held your leg in place as he started kitten licking at your clit. Your hands came to grip his hair, tugging at it gently.

“Hoon,” You whimper as he flickers his tongue against your clit, “Feels good.”

He grinned up at you, pushing two fingers into your cunt as he continued swirling his tongue around your clit. Sunghoon’s fingers were going at a brutal pace, causing broken moans to leave your lips and legs shake underneath his grip.

“Hoon, I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that," Your grip tightening on his hair.

"Make a mess all over my face, baby." Sunghoon said, not slowing the pace of his fingers, "Show me how good I make you feel."

With Sunghoon's praise, you let the knot in your stomach finally let go. Your orgasm hit you harshly and all you could do was moan Sunghoon's name and rut your hips against his lips.

His tongue or fingers didn't stop, lapping up the mess from your orgasm. The overstimulation felt too good, and you could feel your hips chasing after his fingers.

Sunghoon pulled his fingers and sat up, looking down at you.

And what a site to behold.

His hair was disheveled from your pulling and lips were shining with your wetness.

“You think I’d let you cum again on just my fingers?” He asked, hands trailing up to pinch your nipples, “Baby, I’m not done with you quite yet.”

Sunghoon brought his hands to your hips, flipping you onto your stomach. He forced your hips up, “Come on baby, arch for me.”

You complied, sitting up on your knees and leaning forward. All of your weight was on your palms, and arched your back the way Sunghoon wanted. You could hear rustling behind you before his hand came back to hold your hip.

“Think you can handle it?” He leaned down, his bare chest pressed against your back.

A scoff left your lips, “More than capable, but do you think you can handle this?”

“Mm, I don’t know” Sunghoon whispered, kissing down your back before pushing into you, “Definitely the best pussy I’ve ever had.”

You pushed your hips back against him, moaning at the stretch of his cock, “Definitely the best dick I’ve ever had.”

Sunghoon gave you a moment to adjust before fucking you back onto his cock at a fast pace. You tried to keep yourself up, but fell to your elbows and face smushed into the cushion below you.

One of Sunghoon’s hands snuck underneath your stomach and began rubbing figure eights into your clit, causing a borderline scream to escape your lips. He laughed at your reaction, letting up on you ever so slightly.

“God y/n,” He groaned, “I’ve never seen somebody go crazy for my dick like this before, must’ve really missed it.”

Sunghoon pushed your back down into a deeper arch, groaning when you clenched around him, “Fuck baby, you gonna squirt on this cock?”

The pleasure was too overbearing to the point only broken moans could leave your lips, the familiar knot in your abdomen was forming once again. Sunghoon’s brutal pace only quicked, causing a silent scream to escape from your mouth as you let your orgasm take over once again.

Sunghoon slipped out of you, slapping his tip against your sensitive folds as he looked at the mess between your thighs, “What a messy baby, squirting all over my dick like that.”

You could barely hold yourself up, trying to compose yourself as you came down from your high.

“You didn’t cum yet,” You breathed out, turning yourself to lay on your back, “And I wanna feel it.”

Sunghoon smirked at you, leaning down to kiss you as he slid himself back into your cunt, “Anything my pretty girl wants.”

You were busy sucking a hickey underneath his jawline as he fucked into you slowly, groaning into your ear.

“You’re the best fuck ever,” Sunghoon whispered, hips stuttering as he approached his own orgasm, “Nobody takes me as well as you do.”

A laugh escaped you, hands playing with his hair as you continued leaving small hickies down his neck, “Have fun explaining these to your other bitches.”

“You’re the only person I fuck, y/n,” He rolled his eyes, pulling out of you.

“Oh.” Is all you said, sitting up as you searched for your safety shorts, pulling them back over your hips.

Sunghoon threw his clothes back on lazily, stretching as he stood up, “Well, have a goodnight.”

“You aren’t gonna stay?”

He laughed as he kissed the top of your forehead, “Do I ever stay?”

Sunghoon gently kissed your lips before opening the door, “Call me?”

“What about your chain?”

“I’ll get it next time.”

“Who’s chain is that?” Jungwon asked, stopping in front of you with an accusing look, “That’s new.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him, “It’s nobody’s, and like you said, it’s new.”

Jungwon stared at you, looking for any reason to accuse you of lying, “Are you still mad at me?”

The truth was, not really. You kind of forgot about Jungwon and Isa for the last few days, thanks to Sunghoon. He really knew how to make you forget things. Must be his dick.

“Nah,” You shrugged, “Don’t care. If you don’t mind though, I have practice.”

This time, Jungwon scoffed, “I know, we practice at the same time.”

You laughed at him, turning away and letting your hair hit him in the face, “If you are sorry, well, prove it.”

“See you after practice?”

Bingo! You thought to yourself, sparing him one more glance, “Sure.”

Jungwon watched as you walked away, noticing how good your ass looked in those shorts and how easily your hips swayed.

“Whatcha starin at?” Somebody asked from behind Jungwon, making him jump.

He sighed in relief when he saw that it was just Sunghoon, “Oh, nothing.”

Sunghoon’s eyes caught you just before you turned the corner, “Ah, nothing.”

Jungwon paused for a moment, eyes catching something he hadn't noticed until just now, “What happened to your necklace? The one you swore you wouldn’t take off even when you reached the pearly gates?”

“Oh,” Sunghoon said casually, “Needed to be cleaned, supposed to get it back soon.”

“Right,” Jungwon replied, “Let’s get to practice. I have plans.”

Jungwon met you at your apartment, waiting for you to open the door at any moment. He regretted wearing a sleeveless top in the nippy weather, but he knew that his arms made you go insane.

Finally, when you did open the door, Jungwon felt his slight annoyance melt away with how dolled up you were.

You wore a purple knitted headband, curls pushed back and spilling over your shoulders. You wore clear coated lip gloss and shimmering silver eyeshadow, matching your jewelry. Jungwon noticed something significant already missing.

“Took your new chain off, huh?” He asked, waiting for you to step to the side, “Guess you didn’t like it that much.”

“Guess not,” You rolled your eyes, moving to let him in, tightening your robe around you, “Sorry for the wait, I had to get ready.”

Jungwon winked at you, shutting the door as he followed you to your bedroom, “All dolled up for me, darling?”

“For myself,” You corrected, holding a candle in your palm and you lit it, “But I guess for you as well.”

He waited for you to come to him, leaning back on his arms as he watched you move, “You know, y/n, with you ditching me, I was wondering if there was somebody else who took my place.”

A cackle escaped your lips as you looked at him with a challenging look, “Took your place? Oh, I guess you noticed after you were done fucking my teammate when you know, you should’ve been in my bed.”

“One, I didn’t hook up with Isa,” Jungwon stated, “Just some heavy petting, and two, you know you’re the only girl I take seriously.”

“Grow up Jungwon, even you know that isn't true,” You stalked closer to him, “Because I don’t take you seriously.”

“Aw, you don’t?” He asked, sitting up and leaning towards you, “Such a shame, I would love to be your favorite on the roster.”

You met him halfway, “There is no roster. I thought you came to fuck, not try convince me you want to take me out or some shit.”

“I do wanna take you out, pretty girl,” Jungwon whispered, thumb grazing over your cheekbone, “And ruin everybody’s day.”

Jungwon laughed loudly as you pushed him back, slowly moving to straddle him, “You don’t think that would be fun?”

“Nope,’ You emphasized, coming nose to nose with him, “You’re just a sneaky link.”

A playful pout appeared on Jungwon’s face, “Aw man, if I knew that, I wouldn’t have let you borrow my necklace that I never got back, I might add.”

“Get it before you leave.” Is all you said before connecting your lips with his.

The two of you softly kiss for a while, Jungwon running his hands up and down your smooth thighs, squeezing them periodically.

Jungwon pushed his hips up into you eliciting a quiet moan from your plush lips. His hands move up to your hips, pushing them down as he rolls his up.

“Wonnie,” You whimper, fingers digging into his shoulders as you felt him harden underneath you, “Missed me bad, huh?”

Jungwon smirked up at you, his thumbs teasing at the waistband of your shorts, “The way you’re rubbing yourself on me, I think you missed me bad.”

You rolled your eyes as you removed yourself off his lap, Jungwon immediately sitting himself up on his elbows with a pout, “What are you doing?”

“I think you’re the one who missed me badly,” Was all you said before dropping to your knees and in between his legs, playing with the drawstrings of his joggers, “Take these off,”

Jungwon looked down at you, lifting his hips up to pull them down, kicking them off next to you. His thumb played with your bottom lip, pushing it into your mouth and smiling when you automatically started to suck.

“Such a good girl,” He cooed, pulling his thumb out and replacing it with the tip of his cock, “So me how good you can make me feel.”

Like second nature, you stuck your tongue out and Jungwon slapped his cock against it, forcing a moan out of you. Slowly, he pushed his cock into your mouth, groaning at the warmth.

His hand came behind you, putting your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he pushed you down on his length, making you gag.

Your hands gripped his thighs, hands digging in as he began to fuck your mouth, letting out soft moans around him.

“Your mouth feels so fucking good,” Jungwon moaned out, tugging on your hair a bit tighter, “Fuck.”

All you could do was moan, bringing a hand to wrap around the base of his cock, eliciting a string of moans from Jungwon.

Jungwon’s thrusts got sloppy, and you knew he was getting close to his orgasam. His hips stuttered as you squeezed the base of his cock and sucked harshly on the tip.

Jungwon’s hand pushed you as far down on his cock as he could, his cum spilling down your throat as he let out a loud whine.

That was new.

You waited a few more moments before pulling off his cock, looking up at him.

What a sight to behold, your eyes were watering and your shimmering eyeshadow was running down your cheeks. Jungwon was pretty damn sure that your lip gloss was on the base of his dick, but who’s paying attention to details.

His hand stroked your hair, adjusting your headband before pulling you back onto the bed.

“Still doing okay?” Jungwon asked, looking down at you and rubbing your thigh gently.

You gave him an enthusiastic nod, lifting your hips as he pulled down your shorts and panties.

Jungwon ran two figures between your folds, biting his lip as he looked at the wetness that coated them, “So wet just from sucking dick, huh.”

“Stop,” You covered your face in embarrassment, because Jungwon knew you like the back of his hand, unfortunately.

“I like it,” He cooed, rubbing your clit and taking in your moans, “Glad to know I make you this wet, only I can make you this wet, huh?”

That wasn’t entirely true. . . but it’s not like Jungwon knew about the other people you see in explicit detail, and it’s also not like he tells you about his other endeavors.

“Just you, Wonnie.” You moaned out, hand wrapping around his wrist as he continued rubbing your clit.

He leaned down to kiss you harshly, slipping two fingers into your cunt and causing you to cry out.

Jungwon fucked his fingers in and out of you as he sucked hickeys into your neck, it completely slipping your mind what he was doing.

One of your hands was tangled in his hair, tugging on it while the other hand was wrapped around Jungwon’s cock.

He was particularly whiny, which is new, Jungwon doesn’t typically whine despite you telling him how hot it was to hear.

“Won,” You moaned as he continued sucking on your neck, “Fuck me already, please.”

“Condom?”

“In the usual spot.”

Jungwon pulled himself away from you, leaning over and opening the drawer. He rummaged around before pulling the foiled package out and slipping the condom on.

“Ready?”

You nodded, moaning at the stretch as Jungwon pushed into your cunt slowly.

Jungwon waited a few moments to let you adjust before slowly moving his hips, “Fuck, your cunt feels so good around me.”

His pace began to pick up, causing you to dig your nails into the back of his t-shirt and moaning against his neck.

There wasn’t much to think about except how good Jungwon fucked you, and your mouth couldn’t fix itself to say much besides his name.

You lifted your hips to meet his own, causing his cock to hit your sweet spot and have you seeing stars.

Broken moans and the slapping of skin were the only noises that filled the room, your hands moved all over Jungwon’s back.

Jungwon was getting close, the way his hips stuttered and his eyes squeezed tight.

“Close so soon?” You tried to tease, but immediately regretted it when Jungwon thrusted particularly hard into you, “Let me finish on top.”

He shook his head, “No baby, have to make up for making you upset. Let me do the work, you just lay here like the good girl you are.”

With words like that, how could you resist being a pillow princess right now? Jungwon wrapped your leg around his waist, moving his hand to rub your clit as he fucked into you with more passion.

“Your cunt feels so good, y/n,” He moaned into your ear, “Nobody could take my cock the way you do.”

Instead of coming up with a reply to Jungwon, you just grinded back onto his hips, helping yourself reach your own orgasm.

“Won,” You whimpered as he continued rubbing your clit in figure eights, “‘M so close.”

“Finish baby,” Jungwon kissed down your neck, “Cum on this dick, make it yours.”

You arched your back and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your orgasm hit you, clenching down on Jungwon which pushed him over the edge, spilling into the condom.

Jungwon rested on his elbows as he looked down at you, taking in the sight of how fucked out you were, “Your pussy is for sure the best I’ve ever had.”

“That’s quite a compliment considering how many girls ran through you,” You teased, kissing his forehead, “But get off, you’re heavy.”

He winced as he pulled out, standing up to dispose of the condom before coming back to you.

By time he reached the room, you already cleaned up and scrolling on your phone, “Didn’t even let me clean you up.”

You just hummed in response, “Are you staying or going?”

He scoffed, pulling his joggers back on and fixing his shirt, “As if you ever let me stay, plus, I’m seeing somebody else after this.”

What an ass, you thought, rolling your eyes before turning back onto your side.

“Whatever, grab your necklace before you go.”

Jungwon visibly frowned at your nonchalant behavior, but turned to your dresser to retrieve his prized necklace.

His fingers danced over the cherry-wood box, opening the side where you normally keep your necklaces. He ran his index finger over the necklaces, stopping on a familiar one.

His eyes must be fucking with him, they had to be.

There is absolutely no way he is touching a necklace that has PSH on the clasp. A necklace that he knew was one of a kind. One that he never saw the true owner without.

“Holy shit,” He whispered, grabbing his necklace and slamming the door shut a bit too hard, hoping you wouldn’t notice.

You were too engrossed in your phone to notice, were you texting Sunghoon?

“Bye.” Jungwon bit out, trying to subside his anger as you bid your farewells.

This was fucking great.

You haven’t heard from Sunghoon or Jungwon in about a week and a half. It was quite odd seeing that Sunghoon always texted back, and Jungwon reached out first.

Every time you tried to catch their eyes at practice, they would revert on their own and focus on whatever they were doing more intensely.

Jungwon always acted like that though, and he was the one who went to see Isa after he was with you, so you’re not sure why he was upset.

Sunghoon said you were the only one he was seeing, and he always wanted to see you when your schedule allowed for it.

Did they figure out that you were– No that is impossible. There is no way they would have reason to even talk about you. Sunghoon maybe, but Jungwon? Absolutely not.

Even then, Jungwon is not the type to keep quiet about something like that.

This bothered you, but what could you do when they avoided you like the plague?

Nothing, the best thing would be to act nonchalant to see who cracks first.

And that’s what you would do.

Game on.

It was Friday night, which meant it was game night. Playoffs were tonight, and you needed to make sure you looked and did your best tonight.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, admiring the work you did. There is no way that those two can resist you tonight. From the shimmering eyeshadow to your glossy lips to the two necklaces that adorned your neck, your plan was now in motion.

The hard part would be to not look at them if they looked at you, probably harder than you imagine it to be because you face the court all night.

When the game started, you stood in front of the locker room that the team comes out of, holding your hands together as you anticipated their arrival.

As soon as you saw the doors move ever so lightly, you began your call off to the other girls that it was time.

The anger, annoyance, and the small sliver of excitement rippled through you as you stomped and shaked while the basketball team ran out on the court.

Of course, Sunghoon and Jungwon would be last to come out of the locker room, so you tried your hardest to keep your eyes forward, staring at your teammate across from you.

However, your facade almost slipped when Sunghoon glanced your way for just a second, eyeing you as you cheered for him.

You almost stumbled over yourself trying to get back to the stands after that, wanting to quickly shake such an interaction from your mind.

It was going to be a long night.

And it was a long night indeed. You had no idea that the team your school was playing had such good skill. Maybe it’s time to return back to your MaxPrep days after this.

There were a few fleeting moments of Sunghoon and Jungwon looking at you, but you only watched them out of your peripheral vision, not letting either of them have the satisfaction of you looking their way.

Instead, you would send flirty looks to another player, Jay? You think that was his name. Who cares? He was hot, plus you just wanted Jungwon and Sunghoon to give you attention.

For the remainder of the game, you focused on leading your team and hoping the two noticed you ignoring them, rather focusing on their blonde teammate.

The buzzer rang indicating that the game was over, and unlike last week, your team won by a plethora of points.

Winning this game meant your team was heading for playoffs, quite a comeback from the insane loss of last week.

You were sure the basketball team and by extension, the cheerleading team, would be out celebrating together.

Was Sunghoon or Jungwon going to be there? Shit, who cares. Maybe Jay will.

If either of them won’t give you attention, their teammate definitely will.

“y/n,” One of your teammates, Isa, came up to you as you were grabbing your cheer bag from underneath the bleachers, “Are you coming to NV?”

You shrugged, “Depends on who’s going.”

“All of the basketball team,” She purred, twirling hair around one of her manicured fingers, “Jungwon asked me to invite the girls.

Dickhead. You thought, but let the smile remain on your lips, “Sure. When are we going?”

“Now.”

“In our uniforms?” You asked, “Kind of tacky.”

Isa’s smile seemed a bit too sweet, “Well, we figured we would win, so we talked about it earlier this week. Everybody brought something to change into.”

“Must’ve missed that memo,” You rolled your eyes, knowing that it must’ve been somewhat purposeful that nobody told you, “But luckily, I have clothes in my car.”

Thank God you never cleaned your car out from that one time Sunghoon fucked you in the backseat.

“See you there,” Isa sang as you sauntered off to your vehicle.

You hummed to yourself as you threw your duffle into your trunk, not noticing the tall figure standing next to you.

A yelp left you when you did take notice, and it was none other than Park Sunghoon. He was wearing a simple white button down and jeans.

He looked good, but you didn’t want to show any interest in him, not right now anyway.

“Do you have my necklace by any chance?” He asked, eyes looking everywhere but your face, clearly nervous.

You scoffed, pulling it from underneath your cropped turtleneck, quickly unclasping it and practically throwing it at him.

He caught it, but he still stood there, “You’re not going to speak to me?”

Turning towards him, your eyebrows furrowed and stepped closer, “Just returning the fucking favor, Sunghoon.”

Now he had the audacity to roll his eyes, “Well, given what I know, it was warranted.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about?” You threw your arms up, “Was I supposed to just text you and beg for your attention?”

“Clearly that wasn’t needed, seeing how you were eye fucking Jay,” He spat, “Who’s next? My roommate Heeseung? My fraternity brother Jake? God already knows you conquested Jungwon.”

You took a step back, trying to mask your horror of him knowing this, “Don't threaten me with a good time. I’ll make sure they leave a Google review too. You’re not my boyfriend, Sunghoon. What do you care who I fuck?”

Sunghoon’s face had a flash of hurt, “I know I’m not, y/n. But Jungwon is my friend, and you should’ve told me. I don’t know why you didn’t.”

You ran your hand down your jaw, looking down at your feet in shame, “Because Sunghoon, Jungwon and I just fuck. He is just a sneaky link, and I’m just a sneaky link to him. There’s a whole roster, and I know he doesn’t take me seriously. Same for you. We just. . . fuck, and just because you said there wasn’t anybody else doesn’t mean that’s entirely true.”

A sigh left Sunghoon’s lips, “y/n, I like you. I think you’re great, and I thought I made that clear.”

“But you didn’t,” You felt your heart contracting, as if it were tightening up, “You only came over to fuck, and I begged you to stay. Every time. Which is fine, that’s what we did, so don’t try to make me feel bad for fucking your friend because I don’t feel bad.”

“I let you wear my necklace, that’s clearly meaningful. I’m never without it, so sorry I didn’t stay the night, but I showed it in other ways.”

“God,” You laughed at him pathetically, “You sound even more delusional than your friend. You like me so much to fuck me and let me wear your necklace, but don’t stay the night. At least Jungwon was semi-realistic.”

“Oh so now you’re comparing us?” Sunghoon laughed, squeezing his jaw, “Who’s better then, huh?”

“Don’t.” You spat, slamming the trunk of your car closed, “Your ego is already fucking bruised.”

Sunghoon moved closer to you, “Oh, you think Jungwon’s better then, huh? He makes you squirt all on his dick and into an incoherent mess?”

“Well—no,” You began, breath hitching as Sunghoon continued to move closer, “But he does things better than you do.”

“Like what?” His hands reach out to grab your waist, pulling you close to him, “Tell me so I can show you how much better than I am.”

“That’s not being a good friend,” You whisper, fingers playing with the ends of his hair, “But he is a way better kisser than you.”

Sunghoon closed the gap between you two, his plush lips warm against your own. You moved your arms to wrap around his neck, gently biting down on his lip to push your tongue into his mouth.

He moved his hands to your thighs, fingers dancing over the hem of your cheer skirt. They slowly began to creep underneath the thin material, making you shiver at the contact.

“Starting without me?” Somebody interjected, causing the two of you to pull away.

Your face became hot when you saw Jungwon standing there, a wide grin and arms crossed.

“Don’t be embarrassed now,” He continued, “Sunghoon just can’t seem to accept the fact that I had you first and I’m better.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “In your dreams.”

“Tell him,” Jungwon motioned towards you, “Tell him how I make you whine.”

“Um,” You bit your lip, “Actually, I’m the one who makes you whine.”

It was Jungwon’s turn to blush as Sunghoon let out a very loud cackle, “That’s great, but I’m still better.”

“I think we should let y/n decide,” Jungwon shrugged, trying to take the heat off him, “y/n?”

You pondered for a few moments, trying to piece together what exactly he’s asking, “Like. . . now?”

“Not here,” Jungwon giggled, “But maybe your place?”

The heat between your legs seems to be unbearable, fucking Jungwon and Sunghoon? Did you die and go to heaven?

“Yeah,” You nodded almost too enthusiastically, “But what about NV?”

“What about it?” Sunghoon asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “Let’s go, angel.”

You slid into the driver’s seat, waiting for the two boys to get in the car. You felt like you were shaking the entire ride home, with excitement and nerves.

There’s a lot of things you’ve done, but a threesome? Never.

The two boys were silent, probably feeling the same nerves of anticipation that you were.

Pulling into your driveway, you shakily put your car in park and practically ran up the slope to your front door.

Your grip on the keys were tight, trying to not drop them. When you heard the soft click, you pushed the door open and the rep followed in behind you.

Kicking your shoes off, you turned around to face Jungwon and Sunghoon. You bit your lip, waiting for one of them to say or do something, anything.

“Um,” Sunghoon coughed, “So?”

Jungwon busted out in laughter, ignoring the glare Sunghoon shot at him, “You never had a threesome before?”

You and Sunghoon both shook your heads no, causing Jungwon to step forward and wrap an arm around your waist, “Well, I’ll show you how to do this, Hoon.”

Jungwon looked down at you, a glint in his eyes as you leaned in closer. You could feel his breath fanning across your lips, gently pressing his lips onto yours.

The kiss started off gently, hands gripping your waist as your arms wrapped around his neck. Jungwon’s fingers delicately slipped underneath your top, grazing your back. As he bit your lower lip gently, Jungwon pushed his tongue into your mouth as you felt a presence behind you.

Sunghoon pressed himself into your back, hands dancing underneath your skirt. Jungwon’s kiss got more feverish, fingers moving to the front of your top. His thumbs circling your nipples over your sports bra, eliciting a moan from you.

Jungwon pulled away from you, forcing you to turn and face Sunghoon now, who looked like he wanted to devour you.

His lips crashed against yours, replacing his hands back under your skirt and resting on your ass. You pushed into his hold, moaning into his mouth when Jungwon’s nimble fingers found their way underneath your sports bra.

You whimpered when Jungwon pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers as Sunghoon squeezed your ass. The safety shorts you wore under your skirt felt uncomfortable as they cling to your thighs the more wet you got.

Sunghoon pulls your shorts down, waiting for you to kick them off your feet before he slides his hands between your thighs to your cunt. He dragged his fingers between your folds, circling your clit to elicit a moan from you.

You gripped his forearm and leaned back into Jungwon, who was still playing with your tits.

Jungwon leaned down, placing kisses and hickies along your neck. You exhaled roughly through your nostrils when Sunghoon slipped a finger into you.

The two men found a rhythm between themselves, Sunghoon pumping his lithe fingers in and out of your cunt while Jungwon used one hand to pinch your nipples, the other rubbing your clit.

Your knees went weak minutes ago, pressing your weight between the two boys and making borderline pornographic noises. Sunghoon smirked at you, picking the pace of his movements up and Jungwon made slow figure eights on your clit.

Pressure rose in your stomach, the familiar knot beginning to form and Sunghoon noticed, watching how your thighs spasmed.

He picked up the pace of his fingers, leaning in to attach his lips to one of your nipples and suck harshly.

A string of moans escaped from your lips, one hand wrapping around Jungwon to grip his forearm and the other on Sunghoon’s back.

You tighten your thighs around Sunghoon’s hand as you reach your orgasm. His lips muffled the borderline scream that left you.

It took you a few ragged breaths to untangle yourself from this awkward position, Sunghoon pulling his fingers out of your cunt and into his mouth.

Fuck, he’s so hot. You felt like you could go again.

“I need to fuck you, like now.” Sunghoon said, interrupting your train of thought, pulling away from you momentarily.

Jungwon unattached himself as well, quickly pulling his shirt over his head and somewhere in your living room.

You followed suit, pushing the rest of your sports bra up and over, keeping your eyes on the two men in front of you.

Sunghoon pulled his sweats off, no underwear, slut. The tip of his dick red and leaking precum already.

He grabbed you by your waist, bringing you to sit on his lap when he settled onto your couch.

“How should we do this?” Sunghoon asked, looking at Jungwon, then at you.

You shrugged while Jungwon tapped on his chin thoughtfully.

“Have her ride you in reverse so I can get a taste of that sweet cunt,” Jungwon purred, winking at you when he noticed your flustered look.

Sunghoon kisses your shoulder before effortly turning you around, “You heard him, angel.”

You wrapped your hand around the base of Sunghoon’s cock, stroking it a few times before pushing the head into your heat.

His head rested against the couch as you slowly sunk down, your walls clenching at the stretch that was painfully delicious.

It took a few minutes for you to adjust, laying your back against Sunghoon’s chest. His lips dance against the nape of your neck.

Jungwon’s fingers dug into the plush skin of your thighs and he brought himself closer to you.

Sunghoon’s hands gripping your waist in a way that you were sure would leave bruises as he started to move you on his dick.

A string of moans left your lips as his thick cock split you open. Jungwon waited before you adjusted before he finally put his lips on your clit.

Your hands tangled in Jungwon’s hair as Sunghoon continued fucking you, causing your clit to hit Jungwon’s nose.

Whimpers left the younger boy’s lips as he ate you out with vigor, pushing you closer to your peak.

“You feel so good around me, y/n,” Sunghoon groaned, “It’s like this pussy was made for me.”

You were too fucked out to even come up with a coherent response, letting out a whimper and clenching around Sunghoon’s dick.

Jungwon continued eating you out, slipping his tongue into your cunt alongside Sunghoon. The grip you had on his hair was probably painful, but if it was, Jungwon didn’t seem to mind.

“Isn’t Wonnie so nice to help me fuck you into oblivion baby?” Sunghoon whispered, “Go on, show him how I make you finish.”

You squeezed your eyes tightly shut when Sunghoon practically slammed you back on his tongue as Jungwon’s tongue deliciously pushed into you.

A familiar coil in your stomach began to come undone, whimpers and moans leaving your lips as you let both men use you.

Jungwon pulled his tongue out as your cunt forced Sunghoon out, liquid spraying all over your thighs and Jungwon’s face.

“You ever make her do that?” Sunghoon smirked at the younger boy, pushing back into you.

Jungwon rolled his eyes, but a glint of pleasantries were in his eyes, “y/n, baby, can I fuck your throat?”

A chuckle escaped both their lips as you desperately nodded, tongue out waiting for him.

Hurriedly, he pushed his shorts and boxers down, pressing the head of his dick against your tongue.

You swiped over the tip quickly, eyes rolling back as precum seeped into your mouth.

“Such a doll,” Jungwon groaned, pushing his dick further into your mouth, “Choke on it baby.”

His head hit the back of your throat bluntly, causing your eyes to water as he started to thrust into it.

You used a hand to wrap around the base of his dick as Sunghoon began to thrust up into you again.

Both men found a rhythm of fucking you, muffled noises leaving your mouth as you took Jungwon.

“Fuck,” Sunghoon’s head fell back against the couch, “I’m so fucking close.”

You pulled off of Jungwon, the younger boy whining from the loss of contact, but you paid him no mind.

Your watery eyes locked with Sunghoon, leaning in to whisper, “Finish in me.”

Sunghoon’s eyes rolled back as he began to fuck into you with even more vigor, you going back to Jungwon’s dick.

The younger’s hand coming to the back of your head to push you flush against his pelvic bone, spurts of cum shooting down your throat.

You swallowed all you could, some dribbling down the side of your mouth as you pulled off with a wet pop.

Jungwon tsk’d, wiping it up before shoving his thumb into your mouth, “What a shame, normally you take it all, baby.”

You wrapped your own hand around his wrist, continuing to suck on his finger as Sunghoon’s cum filled you to the brim.

A squeal left your lips as your orgasam approached, thighs shaking and feeling such a pleasure of ecstasy.

The room was silent for a few minutes, jagged breathing heard from all three of you as you processed what just happened.

Sunghoon whimpered from the overstimulation of you on his dick, gently lifting you up as he pulled his dick out. You felt empty with the loss of contact, but laid against the arm of the couch as you recovered from an intense orgasm.

“So,” Jungwon was the first to speak, “Since I didn’t get to fuck you, I believe that this experiment is inconclusive, and we should test it again.”

Your eyes widened as a laugh escaped you, looking at Sunghoon.

“You’re so on.”

[llamagoddessofficial]

I don’t know if you’ve got this already but what about MC being the boss of the mafia Bad Sanses?

Villainous devotion is the only love I want

With you in charge, Dust is a different beast entirely. You might recall from the previous mafia posts that Dust doesn't want to be under Nightmare's command, so he does precisely what's required of him, nothing more and nothing less. Well... now, he's got a reason to remain. The one calling the shots is someone he loves and admires. He's not just your confidant and secret keeper, he's your secret weapon, the one you send when the job is so important you need to guarantee success. When you want a whole room of 'problems' dispatched so quickly and so silently no one even notices they're dead for several hours. Some say love and LOVE don't mix, but... Dust disagrees.

Horror is definitely not as clean as Dust, let's say that. And he requires a little more affection. But sometimes, unclean is exactly what you want, sometimes a message needs to be loud and clear, and what could be clearer than blood? There's no one he can't find for you, no scent he can't follow back to the source. Dust is precise but Horror is sudden and unstoppable, he strikes a real, tangible fear into everyone. He's a force of nature and he's perfect if you need the world to know you aren't to be trifled with. When he's not ripping people into pieces for you, he's baking! He loves providing for the people he cares for. And when he's visiting Crooks, you're always free to join him and his brother for dinner.

If mindless devotion were a person, it would look like Killer. The others go out and cause scenes, but he stays in and causes scenes, staying close by and warding away any embarrassments that besmirch the good title of 'assassin'. If you want him to go stretch his legs and kill someone, he'll do so happily, but his favourite place is wherever you are. He often seems unaware and silly and borderline clumsy... but it's a front. If anyone thinks they've snuck up on either of you, they are gravely (hah) mistaken. His dark sockets make it impossible to tell where he's looking, and he'll have spotted someone long before they make a move. He's heard many insults - people frequently call him your lap dog. It only bugs him because he's a cat person.

You'd think Nightmare wouldn't do well in the number two position. Considering his history and family feud. But it was never the act of being 'second' that irked him so much - it was feeling invisible, unappreciated, unrecognised. You very much make him feel appreciated. He's your right hand, and he's a damn powerful one, his iron fist solves any issues you may have with not being respected as a small human in an underworld of monsters. He's had proverbial skin in this game far longer than you have, his resources and knowledge are vast, you greatly value his advice and insight. People often mistake him for the boss... he takes great pleasure in correcting them. no, that would be my beloved. He can be the moon to your sun. That suits him just fine.