#the enemy??? tsk tsk

[hajimedics]

bro…….we are teens 🤧

[vipermenace]

Pyrite gets captured by Cerevor's lackey Galena! How will she escape?

[icewindandboringhorror]

me everytime I am preparing a meal with multiple elements I have to balance so they all finish cooking at the same time: Wow this is just like the 2009 hit Nintendo Wii game 'Food Network: Cook Or Be Cooked'

[haologram]

unforgiven 🏹 b.sk (m)

🏹 synopsis: Seungkwan may have been represented by his considerably heartwarming traits, but he ruined his own fate with his vengeful and prideful behavior. Despite his flawed outlook, he can still see you in every lover — until it's you, again.

🏹 genre: greek god au ; second chance romance au ; angst, fluff, smut ; sort of former enemies/rivals to lovers.

🏹 pairing: athena!boo seungkwan x reincarnated arachne!fem!reader | side pairing: eros!mingyu x psyche!tzuyu (twice) | side characters: zeus!seungcheol ; hades!jeonghan ; hephaestus!wonwoo ; hermes!vernon ; eris!saerom (fromis_9)

🏹 word count: 40.8k (and what about it?)

🏹 rating: 18+. minors please do not interact.

🏹 warnings: human x god dynamics. swearing, alcohol. mentions of infidelity, mentions of envy-fueled death, lowkey murder. seungkwan is a perfectionist, reincarnated reader is good at everything. seungkwan can be very hot and cold, reader is way too flirty and toes the line entirely too much. smut warnings: virgin!seungkwan...surprise! multiple scenes (3 shitty ones!), oral (m. & f. rec), fingering (f. rec), unprotected sex (in this economy?!), so much heavy petting (and casual intimacy), frottage, some begging, a bit of dirty talk, lots of pet names (baby, angel, threadling, brat,etc.), dacryphilia and breeding kink if you squint (and i mean really, really squint), praise kink, biting, nipple play, riding, body worship (including the feet...mostly f.rec), a little bit of humiliation.

🏹 what to listen to: run away - tzuyu ; highway to hell - ac/dc ; back to me - the rose ; cinnamon girl - lana del rey ; she's my religion - pale waves ; i'm your baby tonight - whitney houston ; take me back to eden - sleep token ; faithfully - journey ; ruby - woozi ; cry for love - baekhyun ; spell - seventeen ; sailor song - gigi perez ; tattoos - reneé rapp.

🏹 author's note: thank you to everyone who encouraged me to write this, and this is for the greek god collab hosted by maren and aeris (link here!) for betas and support: @cheolism, @seokgyuu, and @diamonddaze01! thank you to everyone who forced me to get a fucking grip and just WRITE this. after two months of agonizing over it, writing and rewriting scenes (mostly the smut) and crying over boo seungkwan, it's finally here. seungkwan, my beloved little goblin...the brainrot has been far too real and i hope you get all the love in the world, and that this does you justice for the lack of seungkwan fics on this godforsaken app. xoxo. (star divider by @/enchanthings here on tumblr. link here.)

ONE.

It seemed you and Jeonghan were good friends by the way you speak to each other.

"Back so soon?" He calls, unsurprised. You huff, dusting your knees of rubble before looking up to him sitting cross-legged on his throne, flipping through a newspaper and tapping his pen on his chin. "Tsk, tsk."

"I'm just saying, Seungcheol shouldn't make me the best if he doesn't want me to show it off." You scoff, grimacing at the streaks of ash on your legs.

Jeonghan snorts, "Pride is a sin." Shrugging, you slump over the table before him, ignoring the pain in your diaphragm from the very obvious arrow sticking out of it. He gives you a quirk of his brow, folding the newspaper and folding his hands over his lap. He gives you a pointed look, making you groan. "Hannie, we've been through this so many times. Can't you just send me back?" "You know I can't." He smiles, and you throw a piece of gravel at him. Cerberus growls at you, and you stick your tongue out at the three-headed beast. Jeonghan rolls his eyes, pushing off his seat and tucking his hands into his pockets. "Say you're sorry." "But we know I'd be lying." You try and weasel your way out of begging the god for mercy, but he just gives you a wider grin in response.

"Oh, but you're so pretty when you beg." "You're a fucking freak." You mutter, and he just shrugs.

"You can beg or you can rot. I shouldn't even be giving you a choice, but I just like you so much, darling." He teases, flicking at your forehead. You frown, shoving his hand away before lowering to your knees.

"Come on! I promise I won't be a douche anymore." You exclaim, and Jeonghan just laughs.

"You said that the first time we had to do this. And tell me, Y/N, were you a douche again?" "Saerom deserved it!" You hiss, pointing a menacing finger at the god.

He smirks, a thoughtful look glazing his eyes. "Maybe I should just keep you here. You'd be a nice little pet, I think." He looks around, before you shudder.

"Hell no, you'd probably make me clean the floor with my tongue." You grimace, but sigh in defeat. You feel your cheeks burn in subtle humiliation as you adjust your knees on the gravelly terrain, touching your forehead to the hot pebbles and extending your arms out flat.

You hear Jeonghan clear his throat. "Recite the oath I wrote for you." Groaning inwardly, you feel his boot toe your rib. You scowl up at him, but the glowing maroon of his eyes tell you to get on with it. While this little odd game of Jeonghan's fruitless flirting was entertaining, his process definitely took a lot out of the two of you.

Often why Wonwoo reminds you that you should be grateful Jeonghan keeps letting you get away with it, fighting with Seungcheol constantly over you.

"I apologize." You start, and Jeonghan hums.

"What are you apologizing for?" "I apologize for allowing my pride to overcome my senses and cloud my judgment, allowing me to perform in ways I wouldn't otherwise. I see that my ego has grown further than I can control, and I ask that you allow me to prove that I can be better by returning me to the Overworld and allowing me to perform differently. If I am sent back due to my behavior, I will honor the wishes of those who sent me, and perform under your watchful eye." You're sure Jeonghan can practically hear your eyes rolling, but he sighs nonetheless. "Alright, you goblin. Get up, you're forgiven." You do so excitedly, wiping away any gravel stuck to your skin. Jeonghan smiles at you, a tilt to his head before he speaks in a serious tone, his fingers carefully wrapping around the fletching of the arrow. "This is the last time, Y/N."

You quirk a brow at him as he yanks the arrow out, rolling your eyes. You couldn't really feel anything when you were down here with him, much less did you care about the blood dripping down your front. "Right, same time next week?" He shakes his head, and you feel your brow furrow. "I talked to Seungcheol. We agreed that your presence in the Overworld, while entertaining, is fruitless. You're great at what you do, and the reason Seungcheol allows it is because he's hoping you'll eventually use it for the greater good. In your first life, you decided to challenge Seungkwan of all people. Seungkwan, Y/N." "Listen, just because he–"

"No, Y/N. This is the last time. If you're sent back, you're staying here for good." Jeonghan says sternly, and you think you see a glint of disappointment in his eyes. "You're too smart to keep doing this, stop letting your ego get in the way. You're a mortal, and you will always be a mortal." He turns away from you, and you hear the heavy gates of the Underworld open. Cerberus presents himself next to you, ready to guide you back out. You watch as Jeonghan carefully takes his seat again, and you purse your lips. Your hand rests on the open wound in your torso, feeling a bit of resentment fester in your lower belly.

"How are you sending me back this time?" "I think your original form would be good, no? I know you like the crazy hair colors but we should stick to the blueprint. Maybe then you'll behave." He says, shaking his newspaper off and opening it to the crossword. "Seungkwan regrets hurting you, you know." "Yeah, right." You scoff, feeling a pang in your chest as you recall your first time landing in the Underworld. Jeonghan had nearly sprung out of his seat, his long black hair pinned back by deep purple Gladiolus flowers. You were covered in spider's thread, wrapped tightly in the web and littered with leaves and twigs.

You'd challenged Seungkwan to a weaving contest. Your father had been highly praised amongst mortals for his talent in textiles, leading you to follow his legacy – your weaving had garnered the attention of anyone within a hundred-mile radius. This lead to your chest swelling with pride at the compliments you received, and the business you were able to bring your father. But, like Icarus, you'd flown a bit too close to the Sun. You started boasting that not even the wisest and craftiest of gods could rival your talent – even going as far as saying that Seungkwan, the god of wisdom and craft, would fail at creating something even worth his weight in silk.

Once word reached him in Olympus, he agreed to face you. He presented himself in Lydia, quickly guided to the home you shared with your father by looking for your tapestries. The owl on his shoulder blinked at you, a soft chirp from its beak as you carefully lugged out a loom to your backyard, unaware of his presence.

Seungkwan had watched you carefully from his spot behind a few bushes, something Jeonghan had later told you as he unwrapped you from the web you were bound by. You soaked up the sun in your long dress, before carefully stretching your fingers and threading the yarn through the loom. You seemed at ease with the loom, comfortably and confidently weaving the yarn through your nimble fingers.

What Jeonghan didn't tell you? Seungkwan – though turned off by your ego –  was enthralled by you, his attraction only heightened by your beauty. He would've never assumed that you would blatantly boast god-like talent without an ounce of respect. It seemed now that he was wrong, as he watched the way your pride practically seeped out of your fingers as they did what you knew best. He couldn't help but feel a bit of jealousy tangle in his stomach.

Seungkwan waited three nights to return to your home, taking shelter in the forest around your town. He returned peacefully, with a clear mind as he knocked on your door. He heard soft laughter and a gentle reassurance to your aging father as you gracefully opened the door. Your eyes were hidden behind your plump cheeks, full lips spread into a smile as you greeted him.

"Hello." He didn't respond nor introduced himself, only scanning you quietly. His eyes lingered on your lips, before noting your bandaged fingers folded neatly in front of your apricot-colored skirt.

"Can I help you, sir? Are you here on business?" You'd had no idea who was in your presence. Your warm smile almost made him forget who he was.

"You're Y/N, right?"

"That's me, sir. What can I help you with? Oh, we just got a shipment of beautiful violet yarn. It's dyed–"

"I'm Seungkwan. You said you could out-weave anyone."

Your expression changed at that, your smile turning into a smirk as you looked down at your bandaged fingers.

"A god is threatened by me?" Your voice had been teasing, but it only managed to irritate him.

"On the contrary, I quite enjoy your little act. What am I, if not a just and fair opponent?" With that, your gaze hardened slightly, and you extended your hand. He shook it carefully, watching as you walked to the center of your village, your fingers reaching for the cornucopia carefully held by a stone carving of Dionysus. You brought it to your lips, blowing what seemed to be a memorized tune.

Children flooded out of homes, followed by their parents and even some domesticated animals trailed around. Everyone smiled at your presence in the center of the village as you replaced the cornucopia.

"Everyone, I thank you for coming out. It seems we've got a visitor." You'd gestured towards Seungkwan, earning various gasps and even a scream from a young child in the crowd. Murmuring had quickly started, your bandaged hands calling for their attention as you waved them around.

"Seungkwan, the god of wisdom, craft and strategy…has come to accept my challenge." There hadn't been much speaking after that – the villagers quickly moved to watch as your father and a few other people moved looms out for you and Seungkwan. Your fingers quickly threaded the yarn through yours, watching as Seungkwan took his time unraveling it and threading it through. He noted your impatience through the flare of your nostrils.

The villagers watched in awe as the two of you wove like your lives depended on it – though, your art told different stories. The people had heard tales of Seungkwan's relentless discipline, only confirmed as he weaved those tales into each corner of his tapestry – and it caused a bit of anxiety to fester in their stomachs. His tapestry held symbols of peace, his infamous olive branch weaved into every space he could fit it.

Your tapestry told tales of Seungcheol – the god of the sky and his countless romantic escapades. You shunned him, intricately weaving each and every face of his lovers with yarn and creating a bigger battle to be faced by the god himself. You took the thrill and rush of the callout to continue onto the god of music, weaving Jihoon's lyre into the tapestry with tales of his manipulation of mortals with his song, as well as his scorn. You even went as far as involving who would one day become one of your closest friends – the god of the Underworld, Jeonghan.

You wove mercilessly, spilling truths that were unbeknownst to you. You expressed resentment against Jeonghan with your yarn, spewing hatred of his isolation and cruelty towards the damned. You implemented his manipulation of other gods and mortals, his way with words and the imposement of his feelings upon the damned.

You flew too close to the Sun.

Seungkwan watched as you fell frantic with pride, your fingers working almost overtime as you burned through yarn like there was no tomorrow. He was impressed, but his expression hardened at your disrespect of the gods. What could you, a mortal, ever understand about being a god? What could you, a simple village girl who sold tapestries for a living, understand about pressure and having to guide all those to wander to where they need to be? Who were you to judge a god for having multiple lovers – had you ever had one? Who were you to talk down on a god for being cold and isolated, when you were the very same – boasting about your pride, isolating yourself to perfect a craft that would lead you to your demise? Who were you, to complain about the blessed tune of a god, can you do anything other than weave your loud-mouthed opinions?

The damned. That's who you were, if not who you would become.

"That's enough." He'd stopped you just as you reached the end of your yarn, tearing through the tapestry you'd woven before him. Your mouth fell, watching as the god ripped your work to shreds. You, ever so human…said exactly what passed through your head.

"You gods could never imagine someone to be better than you. You, of all gods, could never accept someone that's more capable than you. Someone faster, someone wiser–"

Seungkwan decided your idea of friendly competition had taken a turn for the worse. He simply held the shreds of your work in his hands, and gave you a stern look. "Pride will get you killed, you know." And, it did. However, you didn't exactly know how, and neither did Jeonghan – just that you were wrapped in the web, with spider-like limbs protruding amongst the rubbish tangled in the spindle and your dark hair framing your tear stained face.

It seemed you couldn't get enough of the thrill, though.

You begged Jeonghan to set you free and send you back – but Jeonghan knew of your insults directed at him through your tapestry. He'd clicked his tongue at you, eyeing your clothing. Your skirt was made of only the finest thread, your fingers bleeding through the taped cloth on them. Your hair was tangled and your skin was dull, and you were truly coming to the realization that that was all you were. A human, a mortal. A plaything, if he so desired.

Nothing in comparison to Jeonghan. Nothing in comparison to Seungcheol, Jihoon and, as much as you hated to admit it, Seungkwan.

He'd made you apologize, and he kept you in the Underworld for three days and three nights. By then, Wonwoo had come to fetch you – called by Jeonghan and Seungcheol. You'd met Wonwoo several times, often trading your finest tapestries for anything he'd give you.

He'd made you and your father a special pair of scissors in exchange for a woven satchel and the cloak you'd made of hemp for him, dyed carefully with safflower petals. He wore them as he sauntered into the Underworld, bearing a gift for Jeonghan – a pomegranate, forged from bronze and riddled with garnets of all shapes and sizes. He offered Jeonghan it as a trade-off for you, and the god accepted – not saying anything about you being free to return to the Overworld. But not without a catch, and not without a punishment.

What was the catch? 

You looked nothing like yourself. You were…different. Different slopes in your nose, different curves of your ears and your legs shorter. Your fingers permanently bruised from your past life of weaving and hubris.

And it happened again, and again, and again – until Jeonghan expected you to crash into the graveled ground like a spider falling from the sky. He'd always give you the same look, the same sigh, and the same flirtatious routine. Though, the more he saw you, the more he grew fond of you. He enjoyed humiliating you, watching you squirm under his gaze – but by your eighth visit, he was tired of the act.

Wonwoo was the only one who knew how much you'd been thrust in and out of the Underworld, offering you his spare room. He and his wife had long separated, so you were simply filling the void of a companion for him.

The punishment for your shenanigans? You lost your father, and didn't get to say goodbye.

Wonwoo took care of him, from a distance, while you were routinely jostled through the experience of living and dying, and physical change. Your father was never allowed any information about you, simply being told that you'd disappeared. No one expected him to live on in peace without his only daughter –  and he fell ill with worry and stress – leaving the god of fire to beg Seungcheol to let you return to him for a final goodbye. Seungcheol refused, and your father died after three nights of hard rainfall. 

Your punishment was not the worst there was. You knew that – but it still aches deep within. You challenged anyone and anything, you didn't really care to find a cure for your pain. You fought against anyone who would allow you to – your latest quest proving that you could entice anyone into a fight far quicker than Saerom, the goddess of discord and strife.

She obviously didn't take too kindly to that, sending you back down to the Underworld with a golden arrow in your chest. Leading you to this very conversation with Jeonghan – potentially your last ever conversation with him where he doesn't banish you to the depths of hell with all those who have wronged him.

You sigh, glancing down at your fingers. The same bloodied cloth from all those years ago reappeared on your hands, your bruised fingertips softly throbbing. Your apricot skirt hung carefully on your hips, the bandage top now carefully wrapped around your torso. You felt the weight of your jewelry return to your ears and neck, the singular ruby ring sitting snugly around your right thumb.

"Are you sure? Won't they remember me?" You ask softly, and for once, Jeonghan can see inner turmoil. He shakes his head. "Everyone has either left or died. And, you're always welcome to move around as well. As far as I know…they need a weaver in Olympus."

You look up to see Jeonghan's maroon eyes glint with mischief, his smile wide as Cerberus grunts next to you. Seeing your lips curl gently, he waves his fingers at you. "I'll see you in a few decades, yeah?"

Nodding, you take a deep breath before turning your back on him, seeing the three-headed beast begin to lead the way out. "I'll see you, Jeonghan."

TWO.

Seungkwan was restless.

He promised his life to this. A life of being just, a life of being fair, a life of being a pure and sound god with nothing but the best of intentions for the mortals he helped guide. A life of losing himself, and his own desires, in order to be there for those who truly needed help, those who were truly in need of guidance and a path to follow.

He was there to answer questions and solve problems. He was there to make decisions for everyone who needed him to.

Who answers his questions? Who solves his problems, who makes decisions for him when he is too overwhelmed to think for himself? Nobody. If he doesn't do it, it simply won't get done.

He'd even attempted to take lovers in, trying to kiss and touch his way out of his own stress only to pull away before things got too heated. He couldn't, in good faith, allow himself to submit to just anyone. The mortals were just excited to be with a god, someone who could easily break them, someone who was deemed an esteemed part of their community – he didn't want them to see him like that, not during an intimate affair. He wasn't just a notch on a bedpost; he too, felt things. He'd see hurt flash through their eyes as he casted them away, shame radiating off his shoulders as they gathered their clothing and left his temple.

He felt like something was missing in all of them. He thought about it tirelessly – he felt attracted to them. He felt lust, he felt desire, but nothing got him to the point where he felt it could be quenched. His yearning for someone deeper, someone real, someone deserving of him ate away at his heart.

He sighed, hearing the echo of his shoes against the marble tile of the temple. He'd had a long day, only to be rang with yet another qualm – a mortal who searched for a job was granted access to his temple, and had been sent by Jeonghan and brought to the sacred home by Vernon, Wonwoo, and Cerberus.

Jeonghan said the mortal was good at almost anything and everything, and was looking for a mentor to take her under as she had no remaining family in all of Olympus. Vernon and Cerberus came into view as Seungkwan reached the open doors of the temple, hearing soft laughter rip through the air as Wonwoo appeared as well, but it wasn't from him.

He sees a bandaged hand resting lightly on Wonwoo's shoulder, a hint of an apricot skirt peeking from behind Vernon's leg.

"I've missed you, Wonwoo."

His ears perk at the tone of voice. It's soft, it's melodic, it's teasing. 

He clears his throat, the three-headed beast flaring its nostrils as Seungkwan takes the steps down to the gathered polycule. Wonwoo smiles at him, something mirrored by Vernon as he quickly spins around. Cerberus carefully lowers to the ground, watching Seungkwan's every move as he clears his throat again.

"Gentlemen?" He questions, and Wonwoo steps aside. He sees the long, dark hair he spun into cobwebs so long ago flowing freely down your back once more. The sliver of your honeyed skin peering through the white bandage top you wore, your taped fingers folded in front of the loose apricot skirt you wore that very day.

"Hello." You speak softly, and Seungkwan doesn't reply as your smile reaches your eyes, the same way it had the first day he'd met you. He looks at Vernon, who shrugs. Wonwoo does the same, before holding up his satchel.

"She won't take up much space, and she can help you with anything you need here. Jeonghan said to talk to Seungcheol if you have any issues." Wonwoo seems to speak as though his word is law, making Seungkwan's jaw tick. They knew how meticulous he was – a place for everything and everything in its place. His home was holy to him, his gardens crafted so not even a single blade of grass was out of place. His windows washed morning and night to let the light in perfectly, his meals like clockwork.

He wasn't sure if there was a place for you here.

Seungkwan can't bring himself to say anything to Wonwoo and Vernon, who seem dead set on leaving you here. You carefully open Wonwoo's satchel, holding out a hemp sash. It was dyed a soft olive green, likely from nettle or dandelion leaves.

"For you. They said you like green." He sucks his teeth, taking it gently from your hands and draping it over his forearm. Wonwoo smiles to himself as you move to stand by Seungkwan's side, who shuffles a bit away from you. Seungkwan was never one to shy away from a mortal, he took his job seriously.

"Well." Vernon gives a smirk, one full of mirth as he pats the scaly beast next to him. "It's best we get going, Wonwoo here has got quite the journey back to Lydia." "So you're just going to leave her here?" Seungkwan asks, a bit of a bite in his tone making Wonwoo grin.

"You'll find a job for her, right? She's good at everything, she can even make you tapestries to help decorate. Your place feels like a prison sometimes." Seungkwan scowls at this, the older man reaching to pinch his cheek gently. "We'll see you around, Boo. We'll come check on you every few weeks, try not to rip each other's heads off." The men turn on their heels and saunter off without so much as a second glance or word to either of you. He can feel you practically vibrating as they walk into the distance. He doesn't know if it's nerves or excitement, but he can't bring himself to ask as he notices your body is covered in quite a thick layer of grime. There is black streaks of dirt all over your shoulder, your arms covered in green, likely from dying the sash.

"You need a bath." He states, missing your scowl as he turns, marching back into the temple quickly. You pull your skirt up to scamper after him, your worn leather sandals clicking against the tile. He silently leads the way to a large bathroom, a clawfoot tub in the center surrounded by beautiful herbal soaps and sprigs of lavender and rosemary.

"Have you any other clothing?" He asks, carefully turning the knobs of the tub and receiving a steady flow of water.

He rings his ringed fingers under it as you shake your head. "No, just…this."

You gesture at your dirty clothing, making him click his tongue as he nods. "I'll find something. Feel free to use anything here, and I'll be back."

He can feel your eyes trail after him as he leaves, before hearing the soft thwip of your clothing being pulled off your body, the jingle of your jewelry being pooled together. He hears the splash of the water as you lower yourself into the tub, and a hum as you test the temperature.

He scurries off to his bedroom, throwing open a few of his drawers to see if he has anything he could offer you. You looked exactly the same as before, but he'd sworn that you'd died. He'd wrapped the cobweb so tight, he was sure you would have kicked the bucket at some point.

But, here you were. As if you didn't remember, as if nothing had happened between the two of you that would make you want to hate him. He had to tell you, right? It was the just thing to do, the honest and right thing to do.

He grimaces to himself, yanking a white chiton out of his drawer. It'd been a gift from a former lover, but it'd be your pajamas for the night. He shuffles around for towels, taking the softer ones out of his closet before trekking back out and hearing you hum a soft melody. One that reminded him of Jihoon, his tunes of love and desperate isolation.

When you come back into view, your entire body is submerged below the soapy water. The bandages on your fingers soaked through as your hand dangles over the edge of the tub, your thumb ring a sparkling contrast. Your legs are crossed, one foot in the air as you examine your toes. It was like it was your first time on Earth.

"Here." He drapes the items over the towel rack a few inches away, and you look up at him. Your face was stained as well, a few odd lines likely from streaming tears paving their way through the dirt on your cheeks. You give him a smile.

"Can I ask you for a favor?" You ask gently, and he sighs, folding his hands in front of him before nodding. You sit up, your bare chest peeking over the soap as he looks away. "I can't…my fingers are really messed up."

You hold your hand up, the bandages threatening to peel off before you close your fingers again. "Can you wash my hair?" This is innocent. Even seeing you in the nude, meant nothing to him. He'd done this for dozens of mortals who had worked under him. He knew he was a tough guy to please, his perfectionism often shown in the pricking of his pupils' fingers and their sore joints. He nods.

"As you wish." He moves around as you adjust, dragging a stool from behind the door to the tub and lingering at a shelf in the wall. "Rosemary? Lavender? Thyme?" He gestures at the jars of infused shampoos, and you shrug your shoulders.

"Whatever you'd like is fine." He plucks the rosemary shampoo off the shelf, opting to roll his sleeves up and sliding his rings off before he sits at the stool. He shoves the rings in his pocket, before running his fingers under the running water once more to ensure its warmth.

"Lean back for me." He murmurs, and you tilt your head back, letting the water stream over your hairline and brows. Your eyes flicker open, watching as his hands gently card through the tangled locks, carefully undoing the knots you'd acquired.

It's not long before his dull nails are working the shampoo into your scalp softly, making your shoulders sag in relief. He assumes you'd been gone for a very long time, probably under the watchful eye of Jeonghan and whatever other damned souls were down there. He scratches behind your ears softly, making you shiver and close your eyes as you lean into the touch.

"How long has it been since you've had a bath?" He asks aloud, and you sigh quietly. 

"In this form, or the others?" 

"The others?" He echoes, and you peel an eye open to look at him.

"I remember you, you know." He tries not to let relief show in his face as he nods with an unimpressed look. "I figured as much, otherwise Jeonghan wouldn't have sent you here. Your second chance is my punishment." "My ninth chance." You murmur as he tilts your head back into the running water, the shampoo running off the sides. You close your eyes again, and Seungkwan says nothing as he rakes his fingers through your hair. He gently rubs the dirt off your cheeks before you move away.

"I don't expect you to like me, nor do I expect you to do me any favors beyond this one. I'm only here because Jeonghan said he wouldn't send me back again, so I have to be on my best behavior." You mutter, sitting up before tugging your bandages off with your teeth and flinging the wet cloth onto the floor by your dirty clothes. Seungkwan grimaces, before watching as you grab a bar of soap and run it under the water.

"I can take care of myself. You can go now." You say, the gentle tone gone as you lather the soap off the bar and gently work it into your face. Your fingers are so bruised he worries they hurt. 

He stands, replacing the stool to its rightful spot and moving towards the door, stopping at the threshold. "Your room is down the corridor to the left. You are the only other person in the temple, so you will have to work with me if you want to stay here. I hope that's understood." He doesn't give you a chance to reply before closing the bathroom door behind him, almost slamming it as he walks away. He walks to his kitchen, dragging a tub of beeswax his previous pupil had collected carefully over the course of her time in his temple. She tended to his gardens, before sending her on her way back to her village with a new skill to use for profit.

He can hear you clamber about, but chooses to focus on his task. He's carefully melting the beeswax in a pot, when he hears you walking around the temple. He doesn't move except to gather his ingredients – peppermint oil, calendula infused oil, olive oil. It would help your fingers, and hopefully you wouldn't be so stuck in your ways this time that you end up hurting yourself trying to be the best.

Something he has yet to learn how to stop doing – but if he admits to imperfection, if he admits to flaws, is he a god? You're pacing around the temple and taking everything in, he can practically hear you murmuring to yourself as you wander into the kitchen, nearly bumping into the dining table.You catch yourself, and he continues to watch you out of the corner of his eye as you pick through the fruit in the bowl. You pull an apple, rubbing the skin against his chiton. 

Your teeth sink into the flesh of the fruit, the crunch satisfying to his ears as you inch closer to him. You're peering over his shoulder, when he finally speaks.

"Do you always just make yourself at home?" He asks, and you're so close to him he can practically feel the shrug of your shoulders. 

"This is home, isn't it? I'm here for a while, maybe the rest of my measly, mortal life. Might as well be a nuisance to you, oh wise one"

You're teasing him, provoking him. He knows he shouldn't buy into it, that's what landed you back here in the first place. "Watch it." He snaps, and you giggle behind him.

"Whatever you say." Your words are drawn out as you prance out of the room, a hum from your throat as you do so. He grumbles to himself as he measures out everything perfectly, heating everything just right so it will help your fingers in the best way possible. He should be freaking out. He should be storming the Underworld right now, demanding Jeonghan take you back to whatever hell you were in before he sent you to him. He should be angry that you're in his presence, your ego so hard to swallow even when now you've only been sent back as a way for Seungkwan to right his wrongs. Or so he thinks.

However, just as you are vain and you are prideful, Seungkwan is selfish and Seungkwan is intolerant of your disrespect. It could very well be a challenge not only sent by Jeonghan but by Seungcheol, to prove his worthiness and show that he can be perfect, too.

Not that any of the gods were perfect by any means.

He sighs, carefully pouring the mixture into a tin, where it'll slightly solidify and you'll be able to use it as a salve for your tired hands. And eventually, your tired feet, because you certainly won't have any downtime.

He carefully walks back towards his bedroom, the hot tin in his hand as he does so. Your head of curls is seen ducking into the room, and he tries to hold back his annoyance as he turns into the room as well.

"What are you doing here?" He announces as you throw open his shutters, the moonlight illuminating the room and your frame as you stare out the window at the rolling hills of his backyard. You don't look back at him as you take another bite of your apple, crossing your arms and leaning on the windowsill before responding around your food.

"I told you, this is my home now, too." He doesn't respond, choosing to slide the hot tin onto his vanity before carefully slipping his shirt over his head, the worn wool tossed into a woven basket by the door. You're not looking at him, but he's hoping you'll get the hint and get out as he disappears into his closet. He removes the rest of his attire, grabbing his robe and tying it around himself before exiting the closet to see you now draped across his reading chair, a lit candle in your hand as you skimmed his open books.

"You have books in your room," he calls, and your eyes twinkle with something he can't place as you blow out the candle. He watches as you replace it gently, and push off his chair. 

"Goodnight, wisest one." You blow him a kiss as you skip out of his room, and he feels like he might be stuck in a constant state of déjà vu. He shakes his head, grabbing a towel before heading towards the bathroom. He sees your clothes still gathered on the floor, struggling not to roll his eyes as he drapes his towel over the rack, carefully picking your clothes up and placing them inside a wooden basket by the door. He turns the water on, and is about to take his robe off when he hears you knock at the door.

"Kwannie? Can I call you Kwannie?" You call, and he tongues his cheek in annoyance as he flings open the door. 

"Yes, Y/N? How can I help you?" You shrug, "I don't like my bed. Can I have yours?" He scoffs out a laugh, before seeing you blink up at him owlishly. "You're not being serious." "But I am, Kwannie! I'm a guest, you wouldn't let your guest sleep on that horrible bed, would you? You're a gracious host." Your hands are holding onto the fabric of his robe, your thumbs circling it before his hands are on your wrists, pulling them off him.

"You take what you're given, threadling." His voice is stern, and he's about to close the door when he sees the pout on your lips, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose before sighs. "Fine, take the bed." "Really!?" You squeal, making him shut the door in your face. 

"Don't. Just go to bed."

Seungkwan couldn't stop thinking after that. He quietly slipped into his bedroom after his bath, seeing you sound asleep with his pillow covered in your mess of curls. Your lips were slightly parted, slivers of your teeth illuminated by the moonlight. He took the moment to look closely at your face, a few surface-level scars scattered across your skin. Your eyes were thickly lashed and you had deep bags from lack of rest.

You left the other side of the bed with the covers pulled back, almost inviting him to slide in with you. He eyes it, taking the pillow and tucking it under his arm.

He sat at his desk, watching your even breathing as he slid the pillow against his lower back. He wonders who else you challenged and why they sent you back. He wonders why they gave you so many chances as a mere mortal, and why Seungcheol didn't strike you down the moment your insults gained wind.

"Stop staring at me."

Your voice rang through the room, and Seungkwan just tilted his head.

"No." Your head moves up slightly, and you sigh. "Whatever." You roll onto your side, facing away from the open window. The moonlight now shines on your back and legs, and he notes the way your feet peek out from under the wool blanket. Your toenails are painted in a chipped carmine, and he simply sighs to himself as he crosses his arms over his chest and attempts to get comfortable in the wooden rocking chair.

"You'd be much more comfortable on the bed." You call, and he hums in response. His head rests against the wooden rest, crossing his legs at the ankles as you sit up. "Seungkwan." "Yes, threadling?" His eyes are closed, hands folded in his lap as he responds. He shows no interest in what you could possibly have to say. You're just another chore to him, another mission he must complete to prove himself. He'd be a fool to fall for your charms, or your deceptions. You could flirt all you want, you could challenge him all you want – but he won't give in to you.

Not again.

THREE.

The night had continued without another word from either of you, and you were not in bed when he woke up. He heard the soft running of water and assumed you decided to bathe once more. Seungkwan's back was incredibly sore, but he rose with the sun anyway. He stretched on his patio, before retreating into the kitchen to make breakfast – spotting you tinkering in there already.

You're not wearing what he gave you yesterday – instead, a red, glittering sash from his collection bunched and pinned, tied around your waist like a skirt. It dropped to your mid-thigh, and your chest was covered by a pinned piece of white linen you'd likely found in his closet, something he didn't have use for.

You really knew how to make something out of almost nothing.

You stood in front of his stone oven, holding the wooden peel as a staff and tapping your bare foot against the marble floor. He peers over your shoulder to see a dimpled focaccia with halved cherry tomatoes and coarse salt above the flame. Your eyes are illuminated by the fire baking it, and your shoulders jump when you hear him speak behind you.

"What are you doing?" "Making bread. We should really go to the market, you've run out of fish." You respond, gesturing to the table. He looks over his shoulder, seeing an array of fresh fruit and goat cheese neatly placed on plates from his cupboard. There is a pile of juiced oranges and a few carrot peels in his compost bin, and the juice sits in a pitcher next to the jar of honey.

"I left a salve for you on the vanity. Did you put it on?" He asks, not moving from behind you. You nod, holding up your free hand. Your fingers are freshly bandaged, this time in strips of linen. The salve was carefully spread around your fingertips.

"Why are you being so nice to me? You killed me off eight years ago, what makes now any different?" Your question catches him a bit off guard. His head whips up to look at you, and sees you already staring down at home. The flame in your eyes is just as intense, if not more, than the one in the oven. It's like you resent him.

"I'm not a human. I don't have to admit or explain anything to you, we're not the same." He speaks with confidence, and it only makes your brow furrow deeper.

"You don't have to be human to admit your wrongdoings. You killed me off because I made you look bad, Seungkwan." He scoffs, adjusting his pajama shirt. "I sent you to the Underworld because your ego was absolutely suffocating. I don't understand how anyone within a ten-foot radius wasn't crushed by the sheer weight of your hubris."

"Isn't this my land, too? Isn't this where I can express my feelings and my rights, where I can–" His hand comes up, cutting you off just like he did the day you left.

"You are a human. You can train to be the best, you can try to do whatever you desire in this world. You will never be perfect, therefore you cannot compare where you don't compete." He can tell the words hurt you as your eyes glaze over slowly, but you refuse to back down.

"I may not be perfect, but you're also far from it." You grumble, turning away from him to take the bread out of the oven. "Being a god means nothing. You're just like me, all you've got is something fancy to show for it. Something that proves that there are favorites in this world. Without your so-called wisdom, without your so-called perfect presentation, you'd be just like me." He doesn't speak, feeling a bit of fury pool in his stomach.

You carefully pull the bread out of the oven, sliding it onto the cooling rack you left on the counter. You adjust the wooden peel against the wall, before turning to him with one last slip of your tongue.

"You may be a god. You may be good at what you represent, you may be rich in wealth and you may be handsome. Your fellow gods boast your compassion, but you've shown me none. You are nothing but a frail shadow of a man playing pretend, nothing but someone who lacks what life is truly rich with – love." His eyes scan your face.

"What would you even know about love?" He doesn't like the way you smile at him.

"You'd like to know, wouldn't you? You'd want me to tell you all my secrets, to show you what it's like to be normal and not have to live up to anyone's unrealistic expectations." You're stepping closer, a finger to his chest as you speak. "You'd love to know what the touch of a woman feels like, what it's like to be coddled and kissed and touched until you can't think anymore." You're so close that your lips are brushing the shell of his ear now, and he can feel your lips curl into a smirk as you whisper.

"You want to be forgiven for your sins, but you know if you ever so much as think of telling anyone how much of a screw-up you really are, you'll be seen as less than. Less than your peers, and a disappointment to your elders. You want to be loved, but to be loved is to be known. I don't think you're ready for that."

He feels you brush past him, and his face heats in embarrassment as he hears your feet patter away, and the door of your bedroom shut tightly.

He ignores the tear that slips down his face, letting it drip onto the floor as he scans the array of breakfast once more. He's not hungry. He hates that you've chipped a bit away at his façade, he hates that you're able to read him so easily. It only means he has to try harder to dominate this relationship.

The rest of the day was filled with nothing but silence and tension. 

After your encounter in the kitchen early that morning, it seemed you had no interest in interacting with Seungkwan. He didn't really care, taking the time instead to make the trip to the market. He'd heard you rustling about in your bedroom before he made his leave, and assumed you were trying to make yourself comfortable.

It'd begun raining after he left, making him agitated as he watched vendors put up their tarps in the market. He carefully roamed through the market, picking the best produce amongst the selections. He even stopped by a textile tent and picked out a few fabrics for you, assuming you'd need more clothing. He packed everything and made his way home, parasol over his shoulder as he arrived.

Only to enter the temple and see the oven aflame again, but you are nowhere near it. A loud roll of thunder sounds overhead, and he hears a soft sigh from the gardens. He leaves the items he got on the table, quickly making his way towards the garden doors to see you standing with your hands clasped behind your back, your clothing clinging to your skin as you let the rain drench you.

"You're going to get sick." He calls from the threshold, and you only peer over your shoulder at him. Shrugging, you turn back to look over the flower field he'd carefully curated, and he sees a few sprigs of lavender tucked over your ear. Your hair has been long soaked, sticking to your shoulders and back as he groans inwardly.

"Y/N, come inside."

"No." You turn to face him. "I like the way it feels." "The rain? It's cold and you're wet, your clothes are ruined." He says pointedly, and you shrug once more, looking up at the sky. 

"We were born naked, we will die naked. Who cares?" "You're being existential and it's freaking me out, come inside." He rolls his eyes, and you tilt your head at him. 

"Why don't you come out here? Have you ever danced in the rain?" "I don't dance, Y/N. Now, come on. I won't ask again." You seemingly oblige, slowly strolling back to the limestone and stopping a few feet in front of him. He steps to the side, assuming you'll walk inside. You shake your hand, holding your hand out. "Dance with me." He rubs his temples, a grimace on his face. "Didn't you say Jeonghan told you to be on your best behavior? This doesn't seem like very good behavior." "He said best behavior when you're bossing me around, not when I get to simply exist. It won't kill you to indulge me, aren't you supposed to be warm and welcoming?" You argue, your hand not dropping from where you've extended it.

"I'm supposed to guide you so you don't do something stupid, and you're here so I can ensure that your life can bring you something of fruit. Now, come inside, before I bring you in here myself." He's stern, but he can't help and notice the way your eyes flash as you take a step back.

"You're going to have to catch me, then." You're shrugging dramatically, and Seungkwan groans. 

"Y/N, don't do this." "I like it when you beg." You smirk, taking yet another step back. His jaw ticks and he sees you sprint off the limestone patio and into the flower field. He crosses his arms, letting you get as far as the marigolds before he sighs inwardly, stepping out into the rain and walking towards the field. "Gotta be faster than that, Seungkwan!"

He scowls at your teasing, feeling his stomach churn as he breaks into a jog, watching as you twirl into the zinnias. He doesn't like this, feeling like he's following your lead because you refuse to respect him as a god. He doesn't like the fact that he feels his shoulders less tense at the idea of it, and his mind has only the goal of dragging you inside before you get sick.

"Missed me, missed me!" You call, even making a show of doing a curtsy into the tulips. He's close enough to grab you, but waits. Your back is turned to him when he grabs your arm, pulling you to him. 

"Y/N, this is not a game." He mutters as you let him tug you close, a smile on your lips proving your enjoyment at making him work to catch you.  

"Yet, you played along." You reply coyly, before he rolls his eyes, and you nearly scream as he single-handedly throws you over his shoulder. 

"No more of this. You're going to have a bath and we're going to eat and go to bed. The real work starts tomorrow." You're silent as he walks the two of you back to the temple, feeling your cheeks hot at the placement of his ringed fingers around your thigh. You don't really like Seungkwan, because, well – you resent him for having sent you to the Underworld over friendly competition. But, you're still just a woman, and the feeling of his warm fingers gripping your skin was proof of carnal desire's existence within you.

He sets you down in the threshold, his nimble fingers making quick work of the pins in the makeshift skirt you'd wrapped yourself in earlier that morning. This seemed normal for him, gathering the pins between plump lips as he nearly ripped your top off. You weren't complaining, his knuckles brushing against your skin gently. "Go. Bathe. You'll get sick."

"Seems like an excuse just to see me naked, Seungkwan." "Go." His voice holds a bite before he gathers your hair in his hand, carefully wringing the water out just outside the doorway. A soft push of his damp hand on your shoulder makes you move forward, and you make your way to the hallway, peering over your shoulder to see the god grimacing as he peels his own top off, a low whistle from your lips before you disappear down the hall.

You can hear him groan as he walks around, likely cold from the rain. "Would you like to join me?" You call, and hear a scoff from the kitchen.

He doesn't respond, and you hear the trickle of water into the sink. You assume he's wringing your clothes out, and you shrug as you draw yourself a bath once more. You scour his shampoo jars carefully, this time grabbing the citrus one. The bathroom quickly fills with soft basil and grapefruit notes, and you sink yourself into the warmth of the water.

You don't know how much time has passed when you hear a soft knock at the bathroom door, and Seungkwan clearing his throat before asking if he can come in. You hum in approval, choosing to keep your eyes closed as he opens the door. You wear the soft brush of his robe against the door, and you ignore the disappointment settling in your stomach.

"I got you these at the market. I figured we'd be able to make something of them." He holds up a few pieces of linen, different patterns catching your eyes as you peel them open. You nod excitedly, leaning over the edge of the tub to look closer. "I have pins and sewing needles somewhere around here, we can get some measurements done when you're out." He says pointedly, giving you a quick once over before he holds up a towel and places it on the rack. "Be quick." "Don't you also need a bath?" You ask, leaning your cheek on your palm. 

He gives you a quizzical look. "Did you expect me to take it with you?" "Would that kill you? To be enticed by a human?" Your smile is sly, but he rolls his eyes. 

"Mortals and gods are meant to interact, Y/N." "Have you ever slept with one?" 

His brow furrows, before he scoffs. "Do you always ask such personal questions?" Shrugging, you lean back into the water. "Just wanted to know. I know some humans like sleeping with gods, it makes them feel important or whatever." You roll your eyes, and he just waves you off.

"I've no need to sleep with a mortal. There's a certain insatiability to humans that I simply don't have time for." He states, and you look up at him with squinted eyes. 

"You mean…?"

Sighing, he leans against the doorway of the bathroom. "Once you start messing around with humans like that, you can't stop. It's like…you feed off their mortality. You become addicted to how they feel, how they taste, how…vulnerable, they are." He looks a little disgusted as he says this, but shakes it off as he looks at the linens in his hands. "It would make me an unjust god to involve myself that way. My job isn't to bring you…sexual gratification." "Is that why Seungcheol is the way he is?" You ask, and you don't miss the way Seungkwan's eyes trail the way your legs peek over the soapy water. Shifting, his eyes snap back to yours, "No, Seungcheol is the way he is because he likes attention. He needs it to function." Rolling your eyes, "He's the god of the sky, everyone practically worships him." "Everyone but you, it seems." He says, and you smile at him. 

"Am I supposed to?" "My job is to guide you, but I won't tell you what you should or shouldn't do, you're a mortal. You've got free will." He clicks his tongue, before his fingers toy with the doorknob. "I'll be in my bedroom." "Get pretty while you wait for me." You wink, and he scowls. 

"You're such a brat." The door closes before you can say anything, only a laugh from your chest as you unplug the drain, watching the water slide down. You rinse off with the running water, carefully squeezing your hair of excess as you step out of the tub, gingerly wrapping the towel around yourself and tucking the corner in. 

Opening the door, you carefully walk down the hall to Seungkwan's room, hearing him rustle around before you knock. A muffled come in is heard, and you open the door to see him holding a few pins in his mouth as he drags a step stool to the center of the room. His eyes glance up at you, before he beckons you forward. You walk in, arms crossed over your chest as you watch him get situated.

"What's all this?" You peer at the materials he's laid out, seeing a pair of scissors oddly reminiscent of Wonwoo's style. 

"I can't have you working under me without proper attire. So, we're going to do some measurements, and I'll have this done by morning." "So I'm expected to be nude for the next few hours?" You scoff out a laugh, and he gives you a raised brow. 

"I have a few robes, if that'll make you feel better? It doesn't bother me either way, it's your body." "And you've never been attracted to a mortal?" You tease, causing him to pinch the bridge of his nose before taking a deep breath. 

"You won't let this go, will you?" "You may be a god, but you're also a man. Forgive me for assuming you think with both heads." You say, perching on the edge of the step stool and crossing one leg over the other. The towel bares your thighs, and he shakes his head.

"Not being intimate with mortals doesn't mean I don't feel lust or desire." He rolls his eyes, and you smirk at him. 

"But you won't give into your desires because it shows you're just as human as any of us, right?" He sighs, beckoning you to stand. "On the stool, please. Careful." He holds his hand out for the towel, and you peel it off slowly before handing it to him. He drapes it over the back of his desk chair as you step onto the flat seat of the stool. 

He analyzes you carefully, walking around your nude body with his fingers tapping his lips. "Do you prefer your clothes loose?" "On the bottom, easier access if I want to execute my free will." You use air quotes, and he snorts. 

"All humans are the same, riddled with their own desire." "I'm just a woman, Seungkwan. I have needs, too." You roll your eyes as he holds a piece of linen to your hip, before his other hand trails your back to meet the two corners of fabric together. He pins it carefully, before you speak again.

"So what do you do? When you're overwhelmed with want?" You make a show of your words, jazz hands around him as he drapes fabric in certain ways for a different flow. 

He shakes his head, "Do I have to answer that?" "What are you if not an honest god, Seungkwan?" Your teasing makes his jaw clench, you notice, but you say nothing as he pins the fabric in another spot. He doesn't respond, instead choosing to drape the fabric yet another way for more dimension. A few more folds and pins later, he steps back and looks at his work. "Pretty?" He asks, turning you to face the mirror behind you, his hands on your hips as he watches your reaction change into a timid smile. 

"Yeah, pretty." "Perfect." He nods, unpinning it at the hip so it can stay together as it falls off and he drapes it across the bed carefully. "I'll sew this for you and it can be your outfit for tomorrow! I think you need sleepwear, right?" He taps his chin as he thinks, scanning the remaining fabrics. "I don't mind sleeping like this, actually. I'd rather have more day clothing." You speak as you step off the stool, and he hums in response.

"Are you sure? It can get quite cold in the bedrooms." He says, reaching for a bright yellow piece of linen. He holds it up to your chest, a quizzical look in his eyes as he gazes at you carefully. 

"You can warm me up if I get too cold, can't you?" "What is it with you and these odd little questions, threadling? Are you attracted to me?" He rolls his eyes, not expecting you to shrug your shoulders. 

"I'm human, not blind. I might not like you, but I can appreciate that you're nice to look at." You worry his eyes might get stuck in his head if he keeps rolling them, but he shakes his head as he pins the yellow linen over your shoulder. "Humans, such odd creatures." "Odd is good though." You say into the air, and he smiles as he raises your arm to pin the fabric against your ribs. 

"Odd is good, you're right. It keeps me entertained." "I'm not going to be your jester, if that's what you're alluding to." You warn, and he actually laughs, for the first time since you'd arrived. 

"Nonsense, I'd never put you in that position." "What about others?" His face is closer than it had ever been as he pins the fabric around your neck, and he lets out a hum. "I guess we'll never know, will we?"

You're not satisfied with that answer, but Seungcheol made you good at everything – including luring people into your web of lust and yearning, making them a moth to your flame. Surely, Seungkwan was no different.

"But we could." You murmur, trailing your eyes down the soft curve of his jaw. Sighing, he steps back slightly and you feel his warm breath against your skin as he turns you to face the mirror once more. 

He holds the loose fabric in his fingers, pulling it taut against your torso. "We'd pin this back here. What do you think?" "I think you're avoiding my questions because you're scared of giving in to me." You say pointedly, watching his face in the reflection as he purses his lips. 

"Do you like the draping or not, so we can try something else?" "Yeah, I like it." You roll your eyes, feeling the fabric become loose once more as he lets it go, carefully moving around to unpin you. His fingers linger against your skin, before you're nude in front of the mirror once more. This goes on for a while, different linens being draped across your body in almost an expert manner. Pins are carefully put in and pulled out, and soon his bed is covered in your carefully folded options and set aside to be finished for you. "Here, I'm going to take a quick bath and then we need to eat dinner." He slides a robe over your shoulders, prompting you to slip your arms through the soft silk. 

"So seeing me like this does nothing for you?" You try again, and he just chuckles in disbelief.

"Do you want me to compliment you or something? You realize I've seen plenty of naked bodies in my lifetime, right?" He says, replacing the stool in the corner of the room as you perch on the edge of the bed. 

"Oh, I'm sure this is the norm for you. Just loads of beautiful women throwing themselves at you because they think you have something to offer them." "And yet, they never get anything from me." He nods, not seeing the way your eyes widen. 

"What?" "Exactly what I said. You're not the first human to be in this temple, and you might not be the last. Everyone needs me for one thing or another, and once they've gotten their fill, they think I can offer to fill their carnal desires. I guess they see it as a payment, but it's honestly just a bit insulting." He shrugs, and you hum in response.

"So you've never…slept with a mortal?" You ask, leaning on your hands as he rustles through his closet, conjuring a towel and returning in yet another robe. 

He shakes his head. "I never let it get that far." "But you'll do other things? You'll let them touch you?" You prod, and he shrugs, with a smile. 

"I like the game, not super into the prize. As much of a prize as a mortal can be, I guess. I know they don't really want me for me, so I just play along until they realize I won't be giving them what they want. At least, not fully." "What does that mean, though?" You call as he begins to take his walk down to the bathroom, and he sighs loudly. 

"Why does it matter, angel?"

Your lip twitches at the pet name. You choose not to respond, instead letting the conversation seep into your mind and hopping off the bed, making a beeline for the kitchen. 

Might as well make myself useful, you think.

It doesn't take long to prepare a light dinner. Wine, oiled bread and carefully speared fruit. You're forcing a skewer through lamb chunks when you hear him wander into the kitchen, the top notes of his minty soap slightly overwhelming.

You are just a woman, after all.

"Lamb?" He asks, and you can feel the heat of his body behind you. 

You hold up the skewer, nodding, "I figured it'd be quick and easy. I'd like to get to bed early, you said tomorrow would be my demise." "You're dramatic, that is not what I said." He snorts, moving away from you to get the fire started. The two of you work in unison to get dinner on the flame, opting to sit on the same side of the table and sip your wine as you stare at the fire.

"Do you ever feel lonely?" You ask, resting your wine in the dip of your lap. He shakes his head.

"No. I've heard a lot about that, though. Humans feel like they need someone, or something, to fill a void. I think it's just a feeling of emptiness because they've yet to love themselves and choose to fill the hole with material things, or attempt to patch it with someone else."

He sips his wine as you gawk at him, a scoff from your throat.

"That's not at all what that means, Seungkwan."

His head lolls to the side, a smile on his lips. "Isn't it, though? What do you take it to mean?" Okay, maybe he's right. Maybe.

"It means that you…the human emotion is very complex, you know? It means wanting more, it means being satisfied with yourself but wanting companionship. It means–" "It means humans are greedy." He interrupts, and you almost miss the way he inches a little closer. "It means all you do is take, and take, and take. Humans are slaves to the desires they feel, you don't really need anyone to be happy or fulfilled. It's all a human concept."

Your nose scrunches as you grimace, and he sighs, sliding his cup onto the table. "Humans act like loneliness is…for example, you see the stars." He gestures to the window above the counter, the sky now clear and the moonlight floods into the kitchen.

"Humans want to say that loneliness is the stars in the sky looking wrong. Or, they make up things like speaking to the moon and hoping their lover is somewhere else, looking at that very same moon and doing the same. Humans are experts in yearning, because of that free will you've been granted." He states, and you slide closer to him, your thigh bumping his.

"So you've never yearned for anyone?" You ask, looking slightly down at him as he leans back onto the table. 

He shakes his head, "I've never had anyone be worth enough to pine after. I'm just not the kind of god that needs that fulfillment, like Seungcheol or Wonwoo." "So you don't think any mortal and god love stories could be successful? Or any love stories, in general? Have you got a glacier for a heart?" 

He hums, "I do think it's possible, to love and to be loved. However, let's take Mingyu and Tzuyu, for example. Mingyu fell in love with her after striking himself with one of his own arrows. They've been inseparable since, but that doesn't mean they have a beautiful love story. It started as an honest mistake, and now they've been together for as long as I can remember." "Don't you remember how much Tzuyu fought for him after she betrayed him? How she faced his mother, who wanted her dead, to win him back? You don't think she loves him after all she suffered to earn him, and then Mingyu taking her to Seungcheol to make her into a goddess, moved by her love and dedication for him? You don't think that's far more than just a mistake?" "What, you believe in fate?" He asks lazily, and you scoff. "Yes! I do! I believe they were destined to be together!" You argue, and he smiles. 

"You would believe that, yeah. After all, Tzuyu was a mortal. Maybe you want the same for yourself." Your brows furrow, and you knock his shoulder gently. "I would never want to become a goddess, I'd rather die than fall in love with some god who thinks he's too good for me." "Oh, but isn't that what Mingyu did? Fall in love with a mortal despite being better than her, and bringing her to his world to have her forever?" He raises a brow, and you scowl. 

"Mingyu doesn't think that he's better than Tzuyu, otherwise he would have never asked Seungcheol to turn her into a goddess." Seungkwan sits up, his face now mere inches from yours as he speaks. "She betrayed his trust, after he said he could never see his face. Don't you know why that is?" "Have you ever thought that maybe it was to protect her?!" You tongue your cheek in annoyance, the acknowledgement of knowing maybe you're subtly wrong appearing on your face. He smiles, returning to his original position before sighing.

"You're somewhat right, I guess. But, I get it. I can see why that's a beautiful love story to you, full of forgiveness and dedication for a lover. Even if it did start off wrong, some of the most amazing stories never have very clean beginnings." He nods, before standing to retrieve the now cooked skewers from the fire.

You eat silently, the two of you still staring at the fire as you chew. Seungkwan swipes his napkin across your lip a few times, and you find yourself missing the touch as you clean up. He finishes off his wine, and yours once you offer it, and diligently washes both cups as the cicadas chirp outside the window.

Following behind him as he leads the way, you're hesitant to walk past him to your own bedroom. You'd lied about the bed, it was fine. In fact, you were sure it was better than Seungkwan's. "Something on your mind, angel?" He asks as you stop a few feet from your door, and you can almost hear the smug smirk on his face. You tap your foot, wondering if you should admit to the silly little fear of yours. "Closed mouths don't get fed." He calls again, and you huff, turning on your heel and walking to stand in front of him. "Can I sleep with you tonight?" You mutter, hearing his tongue click and echo around the temple. 

"Why? And it's not that my bed is better than yours, I know that." You scowl, "I don't like sleeping alone. I don't like the dark."

His amused look is hidden by his hand over his mouth, a pout on your own as you cross your arms. "You're such a human." "You're being mean." Mumbling, you push past him and tug the covers off his bed. He watches you silently, your robe sliding off your body and pooling at your feet before you slide into the warm duvet. He bites back a laugh, before stepping into the room and gently closing the door behind him. Walking up to the bed, he picks the robe up and hangs it on the bedpost, before rounding the frame and copying your movements on the opposite side. Your eyes are open, and you watch as he slips in next to you.

"Stay on your side. You can obey that, right?" He says into the air, facing away from you as he pulls the cover over his waist. Your eyes trail his back, shoulders slightly tensed as he gets comfortable. You want to reach out and touch him, but choose to clench your hands under your pillow, before sighing and turning the other way.

"Goodnight, Seungkwan."

"Goodnight, angel."

FOUR.

Somehow, Seungkwan was on the other side of the bed.

You were nestled into his naked torso, your lips pouted against his neck. Your hair was a mess around you, your leg flung over his waist as you slept soundly. He rolls his eyes, wondering how to get out of the position without waking you. It's barely dawn, he likes some time to himself before dealing with the mortals that are honestly the bane of his existence.

He gently wraps his fingers around your knee, moving you off his body with precision. He'd never let any of the other mortals sleep in his bed, much less with him, but he knows it's the guilt from killing you off years ago. Unfortunately, Seungkwan is far too aware of his wrongs. In the past, he'd gotten scolded by several of his peers due to his harsh nature. He and Vernon got drunk over an aged wine a few years after your disappearance and Seungkwan admitted he'd jumped the gun on punishment.

What he didn't know was that Vernon spoke to Seungcheol about it, who then spoke to Jeonghan about it. That's how they came up with sending you back to Seungkwan for your last chance at life, maybe you could right your wrongs with each other. You both struggle with pride and yearn to be perfect, never wanting to admit when you're wrong.

But you were human, you knew you couldn't be perfect. You had a softer heart, not having seen the things Seungkwan had seen or lived the life he'd known. Seungkwan had built his walls up nice and high, and rarely let anyone in to take a peek. You in his bed was something he'd never allow if you were just anyone.

He knows it's also his attraction for you coming to the surface. It didn't take a genius to realize that it was this he'd been looking for in every lover he'd ever tried to have – your witty remarks, your obvious disinterest in him or his skills as a god. You weren't looking at him as some being worth worshiping, but someone who needed to be loved, to be held together and forgiven – despite resenting him.

He knows you can't possibly know how much his past decisions weigh on him, but it is scary to think that you can sense something about him. You know something, something that makes him feel uneasy, and it's what's inside. You know his pain, his truth, his heart.

Sighing, he softly rolls you onto your back, covering your bare frame with the duvet. It's only half true, what he said about your body – he's amazed at every curve and dimple, he wants to run his hands all over you until the end of time. He likes the way your hips swing as you walk, the bounce in your step and how soft your cheeks are. How soft you are.

What kind of god is he if he gives into his desires? If he sinks his teeth into you like a cat catching a mouse, if he lets you teeter him around like a puppet for just a taste of you? What kind of god is he if he lusts after you when he knows getting involved with mortals won't end well for him, especially when he knows the moment you sink your claws into him, he'd be a goner? Not much of a god then, is he? "Don't go." You murmur, eyes still closed and brows scrunched as you touch his wrist. He jolts slightly, but moves to pull away anyway. "I have to. I need to make your clothes." He whispers back, the sun beginning to peek in through the open window. 

Pouting, you pull him closer. "Just a little longer." "The sky's awake, angel. I have to be up." He works your fingers off his wrist, splaying your hand across his pillow. "I'm still in the room, I'm not going anywhere." This seems to be enough for you, as he grabs the robe you wore the night before and shrugs it on. He wipes at his eyes carefully, stretching before he slides off the bed. He tucks the corner of the duvet under the pillow, watching your fingers grasp at the pillowcase.

He moves around quietly, gathering the linens he'd pinned for you the night before. He sits at his desk, opening his drawer to get his glasses out and prepares needle and thread. Glancing up, he sees you pouting still, burying your face into his pillow with a sigh – and feels a twinge in his chest.

Zeroing back in, he quietly sews the linen as the sun rises slowly. You toss and turn, frustrated sounds coming from the direction of his bed enticing him to look over – but he doesn't. It's not until he accidentally pricks his finger with a pin that he notices you've gotten up and are settling on the floor next to his chair. 

"What are you doing, threadling?" He asks, almost as if he doesn't really care what you're doing. 

"Can't sleep." You mutter, reaching your fingers out to touch his ankle as you lay down, wrapping yourself like a burrito in the blanket. He peers down at you, seeing the way your fingers ghost over his skin when he sighs, pushing his chair back carefully.

"Alright, come on. Get up." 

You groan up at him, feeling him move away from your fingertips as you sit up. "What?" He doesn't respond, choosing to walk away from you and sink back into the bed. He huffs a bit, trying to hide the giddy feeling in his stomach as he sees you slowly approach. "Quickly, before I change my mind." You climb onto the bed at that, abandoning the blanket on the floor as you lay next to him, your arm loosely wrapping around his torso as he pulls the duvet over you. "Don't lay on the floor again, okay? Just ask me to come back."

"I did, you left me anyway." You murmur, a sad look etched on your brows before you sigh into his robe. He stops himself from comforting you, his fingers aching to run through your wild hair and biting back his apology. He sits silently, letting you drift back asleep holding his hip.

He doesn't like wasting the day. He knows he should pry himself away, and pull you out of bed too. He just can't bring himself to disturb your peace that way.

He gives in, his fingers gently stroking your hairline, moving stray hairs off your face. You lean into the warmth of his hand as he moves the hair off your neck, thumbing the shell of your ear carefully before clearing his throat.

"We've got a busy day, Y/N. We need to get up."

His fingers graze your neck softly, before his thumb caresses your jaw. You sigh into the air as you open your eyes, looking up at him. "It's so early." "Early bird gets the worm. You've yet to have breakfast and get dressed. Come on." He's speaking softly, his thumb now tracing circles into your soft cheeks. He can't help it, pinching the fat gently before moving away. Thankfully, you don't question his actions, just sluggishly throw the duvet off your body. He holds up the skirt from before, the ruby red material glittering in the light. "This one, yes? And the pink top? Or the white one?" "What is this, dress-up?" You yawn, and Seungkwan frowns. "Be nice, I made this for you." "Sorry, oh wisest one. Dress me like a doll." You stand and stretch your arms up, and he rolls his eyes as he carefully wraps the skirt around you, feeling your hands on his shoulders as he pins it in place. 

"Maybe I'll add a little drawstring so it's more secure, hm?" He's speaking to himself, but you nod anyway. "Arms up." He says, before tugging the soft white shirt over your head, carefully slipping your arms through. "There we go. What do you think? Pretty?" He turns you to face the mirror once more, hands on your hips as you sleepily look at yourself. You nod in silence, and he cards his fingers through your hair gently, pulling it back and pulling a piece of white ribbon out of his pocket. He ties the hair back carefully, the ribbon looped into a bow. "So it won't get in the way. Oh, and I'll get my leathersmith started on some shoes for you sometime this week. You'll just be indoors today, so don't worry about getting hurt."

You're peering at him through the mirror, your hands folded in front of you as you speak. "Why do you ask if I think the outfit is pretty?" He raises a brow, "Why the question?" "You asked if I think I look pretty. Why does it matter? It's just us." You shrug, the flowing material of the skirt flowing smoothly as you turn to face him. "And it's not like you'd tell a mortal she's pretty, would you?" Seungkwan can feel that same guttural guilt he felt earlier slowly begin to slip away. He couldn't figure you out – you could be so sweet, so flirty and pouty, and then you could be this. Defiant, bratty, argumentative.

"Can't I want to know if you feel good in what I'm making for you? Would you rather I make you wear a sack? Or walk around nude for anyone to see you?" He scoffs, seeing you smile inwardly. "Does anyone involve you?" He doesn't respond, shaking his head as he sinks into his closet.

Yeah. Anyone involves him, and probably just him.

The morning was messy.

You and Seungkwan bickered over breakfast, ending with the entire kitchen being covered in flour, spilled milk all over the floor and broken eggs across the counter. He'd pulled a recipe from his collection and said that since this was day one of you officially working under him, you'd have to learn how to cook, clean, tend to the garden, amongst other things. You didn't think a dozen biscuits would make you snap.

He'd watched you carefully the entire time, correcting you every time you were wrong with an almost hawk-like precision. It began to irritate you, so you started to make snide remarks. Something about him looking down on you, something about him not trusting you to make a stupid recipe. He'd given you a hard look and said that measuring was important, prying the wrong measuring spoon out of your hand. It took a bit more of Seungkwan saying that's wrong, wrong measurement…for you to throw an egg at him. You missed just barely, with Seungkwan grimacing as the egg splattered and slid down the wall. You mixed angrily as he watched the egg pool on the floor, before his eyes took in the mess you'd made all over the kitchen – spilling milk from him telling you that you poured too much, flour dusted all over the floor from him telling you to let the dough rest before you molded it.

It resulted in Seungkwan leaving the kitchen to collect himself, before returning to seeing you watching the dough intensely. Your impatience would be the bane of his existence.

Neither of you spoke after the portioned dough went into the oven. Jaws tense, shoulders rigid as you moved around each other to clean up. Or rather, as you cleaned up and he sliced fruit for breakfast.

It seemed that neither of you really wanted to do anything else, either, as you watched Seungkwan tinker around the garden alone. He'd said nothing about needing space, but you figured it was probably what was best – so you dragged the stepstool to his bedroom window and watched as he carefully picked flowers from the garden, your eyes drawn to the decorative patches of daisies. You felt a bit like a prisoner. Nobody had told you whether or not you were allowed to leave, or go beyond the temple. You were sure Seungkwan wouldn't force you to stay here, after all, he'd reminded you quite a bit of your free will. Free will that you can't really act on, because then you'd be invading him. It felt almost like a betrayal, the way your body responded to seeing him again. Like he'd grown more interesting to your brain, something sunken in the back of his gaze that said maybe he liked seeing you, too. It was annoying, how you felt this overwhelming need to be around him, even if you knew you just wanted to bicker and bother and nag him. You wanted him to be sorry, you wanted him to show you he was sorry for what happened between you all those years ago.

Unfortunately, you also know well enough to understand why he did it. Pride, the easiest sin of all, had marked you as its prey. And it's fine. You're fine, you think, because if Seungkwan can sin so can you.

Sighing to yourself, you've seen that the god has vanished from the garden. Your eyes gaze upon the vast garden, searching for him when you hear his light footsteps echoing in the temple. You refuse to look back, hearing him enter the bedroom as you cast your eyes to the windowsill. A butterfly rests carefully, when you hear him clear his throat.

"I'll be going into town. Don't expect me home before nightfall."

You turn quickly, your eyes wide. "Can I go, too? I don't want to be locked away here like some damsel in distress." He shakes his head, "Not tonight. I'm just meeting a friend. You can go wherever you please, but I bought something for you from an old student of mine. I'd like you to be here to receive it." 

He's rolling his sleeves up, and you see now the basket of flowers he'd been gathering placed gingerly on the vanity. "Are the flowers for her?" "Her?" He echoes, and you narrow your eyes. "It's a her, right? The friend you're meeting?"

"Jealousy isn't a good look on you, angel." He taunts, before swiping his hair back carefully. "Again, I'll be back before nightfall. Roam the gardens, meet the few neighbors we have, do as you please. Make sure you eat dinner." In a way, you feel like a neglected housewife.

"You're leaving now?" You don't mean to sound so sad, so small. So…needy.

He looks at you over his shoulder, a raised brow. "You don't want me to?"

You don't say anything, flitting your eyes to the flowers on the vanity. He sighs, walking towards you and reaching for the window shutters. He pulls them closed, "Looks like rain, anyway." "No, go. You can go, don't stay because of me." You rush out, standing quickly. He glances at you carefully, eyes narrowed. "It's Mingyu and Tzuyu, they'll understand." "Please, go. It'll do me some good to be alone with my thoughts for a while." You nearly clasp your hands together in prayer, as if begging him to leave. He's hesitant, eyes scanning your features quickly before nodding. "I'll be home soon, okay?" You nod as he inches back towards the doors, and you pull the shutters back open, letting the setting sunlight back in. He takes the basket of flowers gingerly and you retake your seat on the stool quietly, before calling out to him.

"See you later."

Seungkwan can barely hold himself up as he nears the temple. Mingyu and Tzuyu offered to drop him off after their dinner together, but he refused – insisting he needed some time to think.

Tzuyu had asked about his latest pupil – upon hearing that it was you, she nearly choked on her wine. He simply focused on his mushroom soup, insisting he didn't really care.

Mingyu hadn't bought it, and casually dropped you into conversation every chance he got. He waxed poetic about the way a mortal loves, the way they feel, the way they taste. Everything Seungkwan had been told was like a drug – and something he couldn't bring himself to indulge in any more than he already had – despite it not ever doing much for him. He had even told you so – mortal and god relationships weren't for the faint of heart, for eventually, it'd be the god left standing alone.

So, no. He wouldn't indulge – even if the god of love himself was encouraging it. 

Mingyu and Tzuyu were a special case. It wasn't everyday Seungcheol had something pull at his heartstrings, such as the love between the couple had. A love that proved imperfection could be overlooked, that Mingyu's heart sang for Tzuyu as the birds did every morning.

Seungkwan just blinked and drank his wine, keeping quiet as the trio eventually scoured the market.

He had seen a few things he thought you'd like – many a ball of yarn, skirts that wouldn't fall lower than your mid-thigh woven from dyed silk and sparkled with glued rhinestones. But one thing caught his eye most – a gold necklace with a small emerald pendant. Representing growth and renewal, the emerald mocked him. Representing you returning to the Overworld to change, and choosing to change for the better. He bought it, and shoved it in his pocket as Mingyu and Tzuyu perused new linens for their home.

Seungkwan understood that he could desire you. He could, and that it was perfectly okay to get involved with you. It was perfectly okay to explore your body, to become one with you, to let you into his heart and let you make yourself at home in it. His fear wasn't in the commitment or the fact that it was you, someone he'd hurt so long ago – but the fact that your suspicions of his imperfection would ring with truth. He knew he wasn't perfect, he knew that he had his flaws – but what kind of a god was he to admit that to a mortal? At this point, he considers admitting it to himself to be progress.

Sighing, he grabs the pillar of the temple to steady himself. He'd drunk a bit too much to stand up straight, but he was coherent enough to hear you toss and turn as he entered the sacred home. Your groan was evident, as was the thwip of his bedsheets as he quietly walked down the hall.

He tugs his shirt over his head before opening the door softly, watching as you shoot up in bed with the duvet covering your chest. 

"You're home." You breathe out, and he just nods silently, stumbling into the closet and fumbling around as he peels his clothes off. He hears the clatter of the necklace he bought on the marble tile, before looking down and picking it up. He holds it up to the moonlight, before grabbing his robe and shrugging it on, slipping the jewelry into his pocket. 

He doesn't acknowledge you as he walks to the bathroom, beelining for his toothbrush. He could bathe in the morning – he just wants to lie down next to you and breathe you in.

"How was it?" You call as he trudged back, his hands shoved in his pockets as he slightly swayed from side to side. Shrugging, "Ate. Talked to Mingyu and Tzuyu. Got a little drunk, I'm definitely going to feel it in the morning. Sorry." You smile at him, shaking your head before pulling the duvet back as he reaches the side of the bed. You're sitting with your knees to your chest, and he catches a glimpse of the skirt you were wearing earlier hung across the back of his desk chair. "Do you ever wear clothes to bed?" "Just when you make me." You shrug, and he shakes his head, biting back a smile. "I got you something." You quickly tuck your legs under yourself as you sit up, the duvet falling off your body and the moonlight illuminating your skin. He tears his eyes away, pulling his hand out of his pocket and holding up the necklace. Your hand floats to your chest, having abandoned your own necklace in the bathroom the day you arrived at the temple. It felt too heavy, then. Too synonymous with your first life.

"It represents growth. You're making a choice to grow as a person, and make better decisions. No matter the reason behind it, you're still attempting to make amends and I think that deserves a small reward." Your eyes are wide as you stare at him, his fingers carefully unclasping it and beckoning you closer. He watches as you scoot to the edge of the bed, wary of him as your knees touch his thighs. "I don't bite, you know. Not unless you want me to."

"Haha, very funny." You roll your eyes, and he raises an eyebrow before his hands ghost over your skin. His fingers carefully hold your hair out of the way as he clasps the necklace around your neck, the pendant sitting low on your chest. He fixes it, twisting it so the gem faces out. "I expect you to treasure this." You blink up at him, before wrapping your arms around him and enveloping him in a soft embrace. "Thank you." You whisper, and he feels himself tense up as you squeeze gently. His hands ghost over your back, before slightly shaky fingers touch the warmth of your skin.

"You're welcome, angel. Did you eat dinner like I said?" He asks, not having the courage to pull away from you, not when your warmth feels so…something. You nod against his chest, your cheek pressed against his skin making him feel a little hot.

"It wasn't much, I didn't like being by myself."

"I'm here now, angel. I'll take you with me next time, I promise." He reassures, feeling his stomach feel with giddiness at the thought of spending time with you around his friends. Okay, that involves admitting Mingyu was right – but he doesn't need to touch base on that just yet.

"Oh, your friend dropped by." You make no move to get out of his grasp, his fingers now subconsciously tracing circles into your lower back. "Mmh? Did you like your gift?" He'd asked Chan to source a loom for you. He knew it was something you liked, and probably something that could fill any free time that he managed to have. He knew it'd remind you of your father, too, and he wanted something to give you a sense of belonging.

"I love it. Thank you." You murmur, and he feels your lips press lightly into his chest. Warmth blooms in his cheeks as he pulls away from you, his hands sliding up your body and now resting on your shoulders. "We'll be in the garden tomorrow, so we should get some rest." You nod, laying back onto the bed, inching over to your side (that wasn't really your side, just 'yours' because you refused to sleep in your room.) He hung his robe on the bedpost, and slid under the covers, facing away from you and urging the heat in his body to go away. HIs mind doesn't get to wander much further, though, as your sigh is the last thing he hears before he hears before he feels his eyes heavy with sleep.

He could think about it tomorrow.

FIVE.

Okay. This is normal. This happens to everyone. This happens to everyone.

…He's not everyone.

He's trying to convince himself that your ass pressed against him isn't affecting him in any way, shape or form. He's trying to think of the most disgusting things to make his hardening cock go down so he doesn't wake you so lewdly. He can't even fucking move away from you, because somehow, throughout the night – you managed to get him to spoon you, and now your fingers are interlocked with his over the top of his hand.

He's literally trapped between a rock (hard boner) and a hard place (again…his boner.) He tries not to let his internal panic show as he controls his breathing, carefully trying to pull himself out of your grasp. He feels your grip tighten around his hand, and peers over to see your brows furrowed and lip jutted out in a pout.

"Stay." You murmur, obviously completely oblivious to his predicament.

"I have to get up, angel." He wiggles his fingers under yours, making you sigh discontentedly. "You said you'd stay if I asked." He did. He did say that.

"I know, angel, I know. I'll come back, I promise." He murmurs, and he sees you peel open one of your eyes and gently twist your head to look at him. Your eye scans his face, before you close it and turn back.

"If you want me to help you, I can. It doesn't have to mean anything." He chokes slightly, seeing you snuggle your face further into your pillow.

He wants to. He really, really wants you to touch him, he wants to feel you all over him. He wants to hold you close and feel everything you have to give him, taking everything you want to give him.

He feels your thumb gently stroking his knuckles, the cool metal of your ring startling before you speak softly. "It's just me. I won't hold it against you if you don't want to, or if you do. It's normal." Your reassurance isn't something he expected nor knew he needed. He clears his throat, before the warmth of your hand has moved. You're turning to face him, peering up at him with sleepy eyes. You're so beautiful.

He doesn't realize he's staring at you until he feels your nails gently raking up and down his torso. Your eyes are drinking him in carefully, before they ultimately close again and you nuzzle your nose into his neck without a word. Your fingertips graze the tip of his cock, making his hips jerk involuntarily as a whine rips through him. He hasn't been touched by anyone that isn't himself in years.

And now, it's you. Your hands, your body, you.

"Can I make you feel good? Please?" You press soft kisses into his neck, nipping lightly at his skin. He nods quickly, a muffled yes slipping past his lips as he covers his mouth with his hand. You push him onto his back gently, trailing kisses down his neck and chest as you take his weeping cock in your soft hand. You hold it as your teeth graze at any inch of skin you can reach, before looking up at him.

"I can't kiss you, right?" He can feel his heart ache at the slight…sadness? in your tone, and the way it shows in your eyes as he shakes his head no. "I…" "You what? You're sorry?" You roll your eyes, squeezing his length gently. "Don't be, gorgeous." He doesn't get a chance to respond before your tongue is on him, running carefully along the underside of his cock. He covers his mouth with his hand, a shudder running through his body as you spit in your hand, stroking him slowly and pressing kisses all over his stomach. His free hand grips the duvet, before you slot your fingers in his.

You don't look at him as you take him in your mouth, your tongue licking gently as he groans softly. His fingers squeeze around yours, and you hum to yourself as you sink further down his length, gagging around his tip as his hips buck. A whimper from his throat tears through the air as you stroke what doesn't fit, hollowing your cheeks slightly.

He's holding back noises, the room filling with the wet sound of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Soft huffs of yeah, murmurs of holy f-fuck only spur you on further, feeling his hand untangle from yours to card through your hair and move your head up and down at his leisure. His grip tightens as you swirl your tongue around his tip.

"Oh my…" He whines, and you tease your tongue down the thick vein. "Oh my…what? Oh my God?"

He scoffs at you, but his words fade on his tongue as you sink down on him again. You gag around him, pulling a throaty moan from his bitten lips as he cants into your mouth. "S-Sorry, I can st–" You groan around him, feeling his tip twitch as it touches the back of your throat again. He whimpers, his release spilling into your mouth. It's a little salty as it coats your tongue, but you slide him out with a pop. Your tongue diligently cleans the mess, overstimulating him as he squirms, pushing your head back.

You trail soft kisses up his torso, nipping at his chest before moving up his neck. You peer down at him, eyes locked with his as he blinks up at you. "All better, right?" You say gently, and feel your chest swell with pride, seeing his cheeks tinge pink as he looks away.

Shrugging, you brush his hair out of his eyes, kissing his cheeks lightly. You press a kiss to the tip of his nose, smiling as he scrunches it. Lowering your head, your teeth tug at his earlobe before you speak softly.

"Always an angel, never a god." You murmur, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you slink off the bed. You stand up straight, stretching your arms over your head with a soft groan.

You don't see his humiliated expression, flipping your hair over your shoulder as you make your way out of the bedroom. You don't see the way he covers himself with the blanket as you turn into the bathroom, or the way he hides his face in his hands and angrily wipes at his eyes.

Always an angel, never a god.

The day went by quietly.

You bathed and made breakfast, and stayed…mostly true to your word. You didn't bring up anything that happened that morning, and Seungkwan didn't say anything about your condescending comment afterwards. He chose to spend his day in the garden, even as the rain started falling.

You watched from the doorway, holding the cloth he'd given you right after breakfast. He'd instructed you to wash the windows around the temple, and you'd done so without a fight. A part of you felt that today wasn't a day to mess with him, but you also figured that what you'd said this morning was enough to knock him off the pedestal he'd put himself on.

You felt a little guilty, but was it not the truth?

What kind of a god is he to fall prey to your temptation? What kind of a god is he to take from you what he's not willing to give, to your knowledge? What kind of god is he, to judge you for being lustful, to judge you for yearning for another's touch, when yours made him come undone?

Not a very good one, that's what. Right?

You watched him as the rain fell, the way his brows furrowed as he continued picking flowers and wrapping herbs with twine. He walked around like the rain did nothing, and you sighed inwardly. You turned on your heel, abandoning the bucket of soapy water and the cloth in lieu of entering the kitchen, rooting around for his kettle. You'd grabbed a towel earlier and draped it over the back of the dining chairs, hoping he'd come in eventually.

He'd want something warm, you think.

You busy yourself with making a warm tea, hearing Seungkwan groan as he slips his wet clothing off at the entrance. You hear the wet plop of the clothing dropping on the floor, and you hear his teeth chatter a bit as you peek your head around the corner.

His chest was blooming with evidence of your teeth on him from earlier. You feel your chest fill with heat as you notice the prominent trail of love bites down to his waist. Your eyes widen as you grab the towel, silently trekking the expanse between you and holding it out to him. He gives you a frown.

"Take it, you'll get sick." You grimace, and he ignores you as he kicks off his shoes, his fingers toying with the buckle of his belt. He pulls it through the loops, tossing it to the side when you huff, shoving the towel into his chest. "You're going to get sick!" "I don't need your help, Y/N." He shoves it back, and you scowl, the words tumbling from your lips before you can stop them.

"You didn't mind my help this morning. Take the fucking towel." His eyes narrow as he chooses to turn away, shoving his pants down his legs and kicking the soaked material out of his way. "I didn't need it then." "You're such a fucking brat, Seungkwan." You throw the towel on the ground as he pushes past you, heading towards the bathroom. You storm back into the kitchen, your brain telling you to dump out the tea.

Unfortunately, you don't quite listen to your brain very often. You pour the tea into a cup, hearing the rain slow down. Looking out the kitchen window, you see it stop entirely. You start to think the rain is symbolic of every time you have a spat with Seungkwan, and you wouldn't put it past Seungcheol to try and Pavlov that idea into your brain.

Grimacing, you stir in a spoonful of honey. The only water you hear now is that of the running faucet in the bathroom, and you felt your chest heavy as you think of Seungkwan.

How his skin felt under your bruised fingers. The way he tasted. Something soft, balanced. How he reacted and how he forced himself to hold back, how his fingers felt as they squeezed your hand for dear life.

You shake your head, biting down hard on your cheek to ground yourself. This was ridiculous. Today was only the fourth day of him…'mentoring' you. It seems that the two of you had forgotten that that was why you were sent here – to 'develop' your skills, to 'embrace' your mortality, to 'find yourself.'

Quite the contrary – it felt an awful lot like you were losing yourself in this. In him, the comfort of his bed, the warmth of his touch and attention. You weren't complaining – truthfully, it'd been a long time since you felt desired, or any sort of desire bubbling within you. There was that one time with Wonwoo six years ago, and that oddball moment with Jeonghan right after your fourth visit to the Underworld. 

This…felt different.

You felt guilty, you felt like you weren't putting your best foot forward. With Jeonghan and Wonwoo, it was something that happened in the heat of the moment. Something that was for the instantaneous satiation of both parties, and you were never one to shy away from a night of fun with anyone – including mortals. You'd had your fair share in just your first life, why would you stop now? Seungkwan…felt like something just out of your reach, as much as you hated to admit it. He felt like something you had to work towards, someone you had to prove yourself to. He held himself in a high regard, with standards that you weren't so sure you met.

But he looked at you with such an intense mix of disdain…and desire. Something that screamed he didn't want to look at you as anything more than yet another pupil, but he couldn't help his eyes from wandering. He could lie to you all he wanted, but you feel different.

Sighing, you leave the tea on the table, clasping your hands behind your back. You walk silently out of the kitchen and down the hallway, passing the bathroom just as Seungkwan opens the door. He gives you a quizzical look but you continue on anyway, making your way to your bedroom.

The place is barren aside from the bed, the lamp, a pair of nightstands and the loom you were given. The floor is colder here than the rest of the temple, and you don't know if that's on purpose or not. You flop onto the bed with a grunt, your head hitting the pillows and you stare at the ceiling.

What is the point of you being here, anyway? You and Seungkwan hardly speak. He's not teaching you anything you don't already know – even if baking a dozen biscuits isn't your strong suit, you can make a decent batch. You know how to pick pretty flowers, you know how to make tea, you can make clothes and you can certainly weave a damn good tapestry.

Why can't you just keep doing that? Why can't you just keep your word to Seungcheol and Jeonghan and stay out of Seungkwan's way? "It's because we don't trust you." You jolt out of the bed, your head just barely missing the edge of the nightstand as you fall off. You feel your shoulder hit the corner of an open drawer, drawing a loud fuck! from your lips.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" You groan from the floor, and Jeonghan just chuckles as he hops through the open window, rounding the bed to kneel beside you. You sit up, rubbing furiously at your shoulder in attempts to soothe the shooting pain. "A little bird told me you were being a bad girl, Y/N." "Oh fuck off, I was not!" Whining, you look at the already bruising skin under your shirt. You scoff, peering up at Jeonghan, who smiles down at you. "So what do you call sleeping with the enemy?" "I did not sleep with him! I merely performed a sexual act for him. God forbid I have a little fun." You scowl, and Jeonghan pinches your cheek gently. "Seungcheol is not happy about it, darling. You know the rules." "The rules were I don't challenge anyone. You never said I couldn't go down on the person holding me hostage." You say pointedly, making Jeonghan snort out a laugh. "I mean, I don't care. I get it, and I think I know you better than anyone when I say you're not interested in Seungkwan for what he can offer you, but what you can discover about him…with him." You slump against the wall, a pout on your lips when you hear a knock on the door. Jeonghan's eyes grow wide as Seungkwan edges the door open, worming his arm through and holding a plate out to you.

"Dinner." "You eat alone here?" He asks, and Seungkwan's head pokes through the crack with eyes so wide, you feared they'd pop out. "Jeonghan? What are you doing here?"

"Just reconnecting with my little troublemaker." He shrugs, pinching your cheek as you frown, shoving his hand away. Seungkwan's eyes show his conflicted feelings, and he simply steps in and slides the plate on the nightstand. "Bring the plate back to the kitchen before sundown." He spins on his heel, and leaves. The door shuts quietly behind him, and Jeonghan gives you a knowing look. You give him a sheepish smile in return, but neither of you make a move for the light dinner on the nightstand.

"You eat alone?" "No. I think…ugh." You bring your knees to your chest, burying your face into them as you groan. "I fucked up, Jeonghan." "Oh, good! The plan is working!" He cheers, before reaching for the plate on the nightstand. "Here, let's split this lovely dinner. I'm a long way from home, you know." You just groan again, and Jeonghan clicks his tongue at you. "That's the whole point of this, darling. You get knocked down a few pegs, and Seungkwan gets loosened up. Granted, neither Cheollie nor I figured you'd go this route but, whatever works." "Cheollie?" You snort, and Jeonghan shrugs. "That's my best friend, and he pays for all my fish. I can call him whatever I want." You shake your head as Jeonghan offers you a piece of bread, and you bite into it as you lean your head back against the wall. "He hates me." You mutter around the bread, and Jeonghan laughs.

"I'd argue the opposite, my dear. I think that the two of you find each other very intriguing. It's almost like two cats sizing each other up before deciding if the other is a threat. In this case, you're a small cat with a huge ego and he's a big cat with…well, a multitude of problems. You are human enough that you know how to relax, but also annoying enough to figure out what buttons to press to rile him up enough to break." "I don't think calling me annoying is helping your case here, Jeonghan." You smack his thigh, and he laughs gently. "I just think the two of you balance each other well. You're so painfully human, and so open about your flaws. Seungkwan has a hard time admitting aloud that he isn't perfect, because this lavish life we live…it weighs on him. Sometimes, I wonder if Cheollie did the right thing." "What do you mean?" You ask, taking a piece of sliced peach off the plate and peeling the skin off. Jeonghan shrugs, and speaks around a chunk of fig.

"Seungkwan is very loved, don't get me wrong. However, Seungkwan is quite literally Seungcheol's biggest headache. He came about after Cheol had yet another affair with someone aside from his ex-wife. Seungkwan cannot fathom being anything like Seungcheol in regards to his adulterous behavior and incessant need for attention, so he isolates his heart." Jeonghan turns to you, eyeing the furrow in your brow as you chew. "You bring it out of him, you know? The ability to feel more than he allows himself to. The range of emotions is much broader with you around, and we feel like it will be good for him." "You know he said he won't kiss me?" You mumble, and Joenghan leans his head on your shoulder, closing his eyes. "I know, darling. It's addicting, the kiss of a mortal. You should know better, your pretty lips are what gets you in trouble." You scoff, but sigh.

"How does he know? Has he…kissed other mortals?" You don't know you're pouting until you feel Jeonghan's thumb on your lip. "Plenty. I think…maybe there is something different about you to him. Maybe it's the guilt." "Or he's in love with me." You roll your eyes, the phrase feeling foreign on your tongue. You'd never been in love before, and to be honest, you didn't care to be. Jeonghan hums next to you, before looking up. "Maybe." There is a moment of silence before you choke out a laugh. "Yeah, right. The guy hates my guts." "He doesn't hate you, darling. He just doesn't understand you, but that's why you're here." Jeonghan shrugs, before pressing a kiss to your temple. "Be a good girl, okay? He's trying his best, just like you are." "I'll try my best, Jeonghan." You sigh, watching as the god stands, and stretches before he steps in front of the window. "And, Y/N?" "Yes, Jeonghan?" Jeonghan smiles, his maroon eyes flashing with a hint of mirth as he swings his legs over the windowsill. "Don't fall too fast." You scoff as he disappears, and look down to pick at the last piece of fruit on the plate. Half a fig.

Sighing, you pick it up and stand, walking towards the door and opening it. You slip into the hall quietly, noting the moonlight lighting the temple nicely. Walking into the kitchen, you see Seungkwan nursing a glass of wine as he sits in front of the oven.

There's yet another dimpled focaccia with halved cherry tomatoes and coarse salt baking before you. The two of you had practically inhaled the first loaf, sneaking bites throughout the last two days. He looks up as he hears you step in, lips pursed before turning back.

You sigh inwardly, shoveling the last fig you picked at into your mouth before leaving the plate in the sink. He says nothing as you slide into the seat next to him, but offers his glass. You take it silently, keeping your gaze forward.

"You don't like skin on peaches?" He asks quietly, and you press your lips into a thin line. "No. My dad always peeled them for me." "Dads…" He nods, and you glance at him. "Yeah. You're…Seungcheol's favorite, right?" "Don't." The wine bottle from behind him is brought to his lips, and you stare at your fingernails. "Don't…what? Isn't he–" "Hardly." Seungkwan mutters, and you don't press further. You know that Seungkwan doesn't resent or dislike Seungcheol, all the gods in this world seemed very close and proved it often. Seungcheol has spoken highly of Seungkwan in all the times you've ever gotten to speak to him, usually in Jeonghan's presence. Typically over a dinner before Jeonghan would send you back with Wonwoo and Cerberus.

Seungkwan sighs beside you, and you resist the urge to reach and touch him. You grip the edge of the bench, forcing yourself to stare at the bread before Seungkwan gets up, taking it out carefully with the wooden peel. He slides it onto the counter, before the fire goes out in front of you.

"It's nightfall. Off to bed." He murmurs, and you nod silently, downing the rest of the wine in the glass he gave you. He takes it, gently placing it into the sink as you stand. "Goodnight, Seungkwan." "You're sleeping in your room tonight?" He asks, eyes expectant. You clear your throat, feeling your cheeks burn as you nod. "Yes. At least, I'll try to." He hums, nodding. "Good luck, threadling. I'll see you in the morning." Pushing past you, you hear him walk briskly down the hallway, his heavy door opening and shutting before you even turn around. You let out a breath you weren't aware you were holding, running your hand through your hair as you spin on your heels, quickly walking down the hallway.

"Fuck." You mutter to yourself as you breeze past his bedroom, hearing him rustle around. You were good at many things and feared almost nothing – but you held this fear near and dear to your heart. You hated being alone, and you were scared of ending up alone forever.

You're as human as they come.

You skirt into your room, quickly closing the door behind you and closing the open shutters of your window. You light the lamp on one of the nightstands, stripping quickly before ripping your duvet off and wrapping yourself in it. Sitting on the bed, you scoot up all the way until you're practically sitting on your pillows, and bring your knees to your chest.

It's time to learn to be alone.

Seungkwan can't sleep.

He's been laying in his bed for what feels like hours, tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling. 

He sighs, knowing that your absence is taking a toll on him. He felt bad about everything that has happened throughout the day, but he can't bring himself to admit that to you. He can't bring himself to say sorry about speaking to you the way he did earlier, or making you eat alone, though it wasn't his intention. He just assumed you'd want to be alone, but his heart sank when he saw the teacup you'd left him, so warm and sweet and everything you were that he couldn't have.

Groaning, he kicks the covers off, grabbing his robe off the bedpost and wrapping it around himself. He slides out of bed, walking to his door and yanks it open, letting it go as he takes the sharp turn down the hall to your bedroom. He can see the glow from the lamp under the door, and he wonders if he should knock.

He decides against it, choosing to open it slowly. He sees you curled up against the wall, your eyes half closed when he clears his throat. You jump, eyes filled with panic when you finally see him. He bites back his laugh as you scowl, walking towards your bed. He kneels on it, tugging the corner of your duvet over your shoulder. 

"How are you holding up here?" He asks, and you frown as you turn away from him, screwing your eyes shut. "I'm fine." "You're sitting on your pillows, angel." He tuts, making you groan. "Go away, Seungkwan." "And to think I was going to ask if you wanted to move to my room." He sighs, and you peel one eye open, looking him up and down. "As if you'd spare me." "Contrary to popular belief, I was going to do so." He says pointedly, and you turn to face him. Your cheek is lined with the rough pattern on the wall, making his heart ache. He felt awful that you were forcing yourself in here, and he clicked his tongue.

"Come on. You're not faring well in here, it seems. It's only just that I spare you this one time." Rolling his eyes, he ignores your small smile. "This one time, he says. What a just and fair god." "Shut up." He stands upright, and he hears you sigh as he turns away. "I'm sorry about earlier, Seungkwan."

He stills, hearing you clear your throat. "I said one thing and did another, that wasn't fair of me. I shouldn't have said anything about what transpired this morning–" "You're a human, Y/N. I'd be foolish to fully trust your word, you know that, right?" He interrupts, and you're silent. He peers over his shoulder, seeing your eyes narrowed as you slip off the bed, keeping the duvet wrapped around you as you shove your way out of the bedroom.

He sighs, putting out your lamp before following suit. You're already in his bedroom by the time he reaches the door, and you're laying on the very edge of the bed. As far as you could be without being on the floor, and as close as you could be to another being so as to not be alone.

He shakes his head, closing the door behind him. Slipping his robe off, he slides into the bed. His stomach is far more at ease having you at arm's length, being able to just barely make out your frame from under your layered duvets.

"Goodnight, Seungkwan." You mutter, and he turns onto his side. "Goodnight, angel."

SIX.

You didn't sleep very well, you weren't going to lie to yourself.

It was like you were on the verge of falling asleep, but it just never happened. You could feel your body more sluggish than you'd felt the past few mornings. However, today, you were once more graced by Seungkwan pressed to your back. The sun wasn't up, the sky gloomy as you turned in his hold. His eyes were closed, but he was so close you could count his eyelashes. You stared at him tiredly, before you heard him speak. "You're staring awfully hard." "I can't sleep." You mutter back, and his eyes remain closed as he nods. "Mmh. Would you like to stay in the bedroom today? It smells like rain."

"You can smell rain?" You ask, and he shrugs. "Some days it's stronger than others, the smell. It's like wet Earth and whatnot." 

You nod, though he can't see you. Sighing, you close your eyes again, hoping you'll fall asleep at the proximity between you two. You weren't going to lie to yourself, he brought you a comfort you couldn't quite place. Like he could judge but he won't, like he could leave, but he won't. 

"Do you need anything to help you sleep? I know humans can be fussy if they don't get enough rest." He murmurs, and you peel open one eye to look at him. His eyes are still closed, as if he's also trying to will himself to sleep. You don't reply, hoping he'll use some stupid godly power to read your mind.

"Y/N, closed mouths don't get fed." He reminds you, and you groan. "Fine, fine. Can you just…hold me?" "Hold you?" He repeats, and you shift next to him. He sighs, before carefully draping his arm over your waist, pulling you closer into him. His fingers are cool against your back, tracing circles into your skin as you nestle into the crook of his neck. "Better?" "Mhm." You hum into his skin, before feeling his lips press to your hairline. It's quick, and so light you almost missed it. "What's that for?" "For yesterday." He mumbles back, before settling again. You brush it off, choosing to relax in his embrace as his breathing slows. He's fallen back asleep, presumably only awoken by your movement.

You must've fallen asleep as well at some point, because a crack of thunder startles you awake. Pressing a hand to your chest, you look up to see Seungkwan staring behind you, seemingly lost in thought as his fingers continue to trace shapes into your back. Your leg is now draped over his hip, and he's holding himself up on his elbow.

"Seungkwan?" His eyes dart down to you, before a look of concern takes over. "Hm? Are you okay?" "Yeah." You nod, and he gives you a curt nod back, before returning to his spacing out. You don't have it in you to tell him you're overheating, so you just settle back in. "Are you okay? What are you looking at?" 

"Nothing. I'm just waiting for you." He shrugs, and you tilt your head at him. "For what?" "You ask a lot of questions, threadling."

"You avoid them a lot."

He raises his brow at your quip, before splaying his fingers across your hip, giving it a soft squeeze. "I didn't want to disturb your rest. If I get up, you'll wake up. Then everything after is a domino effect." You stare up at him, your eyes tracing his features. Round eyes, soft lips. Lips that let painful things slip, only to be soothed by other things tumbling out. Eyes that held truths, that held fire and held want. A wanton yearning to be loved.

"You're staring, angel." "You're pretty." You shrug, and he rolls his eyes, but you don't miss the way his ears tinge pink as he sighs. "Well, you're up. Let's get a move on, the day is full of opportunity."

He looks down at you, eyes narrowing as they fall to your shoulder. You hadn't noticed the bruise that bloomed from your fall yesterday, and he moves your hair out of the way gently. His fingers grazed the welted spot, "What happened here?" "Oh, I fell off the bed when Jeonghan appeared yesterday." You look down at it, his brows furrowed. "Does it hurt?" "I'm sure it will if you press on it." You roll your eyes, and he frowns. "Why didn't you tell me?" "Why would I? You were mean to me yesterday." You scoff, making him return the noise of disdain. "You started it!" "Let's not play the blame game. Clearly one of us should be the one who leads here and you're not doing a very good job of it." Shaking your head, you hear him groan above you. 

"Fine. It wasn't my intention to treat you poorly yesterday, and I will try my best to not have it happen again. Is that what you wanted to hear?" You frown at him, your lip jutted out just slightly. "You can't just say sorry?" Your eyes lock with his for a second, scanning each other. He wants to, you can tell, he wants to apologize. He wants to make it up to you, but pride is a far stronger power than any remorse in the air. His hand gently tucks a stray curl behind your ear, fingers lingering on your cheek.

"Don't pout, it's not a good look on you." He presses his lips to your forehead, before pulling away and throwing the duvet off the both of you. You huff, watching as he slips out of bed and grabs his robe from the bedpost. He pulls it on swiftly, and you roll onto your back stretching your arms over your head before pushing the duvet further off your body. You're sure it's well past noon at this point.

You hear Seungkwan click his tongue, and you look up to see him standing at the window, leaning on the window sill. He's scanning the vast gardens, likely trying to plan for yet another day of rain. You slide out of bed, crossing your arms over your bare chest as you walk over to look with him.

"Wonder what's got Seungcheol in a mood." You murmur, seeing the flooded pond towards the edge of the garden. A frog hops into the flowers, and Seungkwan shrugs. "Sometimes he just likes to make it rain. Anything to get his name in someone's mouth." You snort, and he smiles inwardly.

"If the rain lets up this week, we can go to the market. I need to find out if my leathersmith can make shoes for you, and I don't think Chan brought the yarn for you, did he?" He peers up at you, and you sigh, shaking your head. "I don't mind waiting, though. I can find something else to do." "Like washing the windows that you forgot about yesterday?" He says pointedly, and you scoff out a laugh. "Way to be subtle." He smiles widely, reaching to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer. You oblige, allowing him to move you in front of him. "It's pretty, though, isn't it? The rain?" "It's dreary sometimes. I think of it more as a necessary evil." You nod, feeling his chin rest gently on your shoulder. "It brings things to life but it also drowns out any happiness I have for the day. The lack of sunshine makes me depressed." "I heard that, yeah. Something about mortals not faring well during the colder months, because there's no sun." He nods, and you feel his hands wrap around your waist, clasping together over your navel. "I assume it's just that same darkness, right? It's like, desperation." "It just makes me sad. There's a lack of life, in my opinion." You twist to look at him, seeing him close his eyes. "I agree, there's something missing when the days get shorter. I lose a lot of motivation." Your eyes widen at his admission, but you don't get a chance to expand on it before feeling his lips plant a soft kiss on your shoulder. "You should get dressed, we haven't eaten anything yet."

He makes no move to let you go, instead choosing to trail his lips along your skin before reaching the thin gold chain he'd given you a few days earlier. "Seungkwan…" "Mmh?" He tugs at it with his teeth, before nipping at your neck softly. You jolt in his hold, your skin littering with goosebumps at the contact of his teeth. Shivering, you twist further in his hold, feeling his hands move up from where they were clasped. The pads of his fingers ghost over the bottom of your breasts, and you feel your entire face heat as he speaks into your skin. "Face forward."

You huff, but move to look back out the window. Your eyes try to focus on the garden when you feel his thumbs graze your nipples, before his large hands begin palming gently. The cool metal of his jewelry against your hardened nubs makes you shiver, and you squeeze your eyes shut, taking a shaky breath.

"Sensitive here?" He breathes against your skin, pinching your nipples gently as you let out a low, choked whine. His teeth tug at your earlobe, making you jolt before you hear him speak again. "Eyes open, angel." "You're horrible." You mutter, feeling his lips curve against the shell of your ear. "I can stop." "No! Don't, please." Your head hangs a bit, burning in humiliation as a soft chuckle sounds behind you. It seems you don't know how to shut your mouth, because the words tumble out before you can stop them.

"Please touch me." "How can I deny you when you're so polite?" He's mocking you, and you feel the warmth of his right hand leave your chest, ghosting down your torso. "Where, angel? Here?" His hand rests on your stomach, making you shake your head frantically, taking his wrist in your hand and guiding him lower.

"Here." You feel almost embarrassed as you feel him rest his forehead against your shoulder, before his fingers slowly glide over your center, his middle landing a teasing tap to your clit. You jerk slightly, making him laugh behind you before he moves further, dragging his fingertips through your wet folds with ease. You feel frustration grow slightly in your belly as he teases you, before he removes his hand completely.

You scoff, about to complain when you see him hold his hand up to the light. His fingers are slick with your arousal, strings of it connecting his knuckles as he separates them.

"Would you look at that?" His tone is one full of mischief, before he brings his hand closer to your face. "Open." His forefinger taps your lip, and you instinctively stick your tongue out, sliding it between his fingers without a word. Your eyes flutter closed as you taste yourself on his skin, the mix something invigorating, your need to be touched by him only fueled by the heat of his eyes on your face.

"Dirty little thing, aren't you?" He murmurs as you run your tongue over one of his rings, before you kiss the metal. "I'll be whatever you want me to be." He doesn't respond, instead choosing to push you slightly against the windowsill, trailing his lips down your back. You lean forward, anticipation brewing in your belly when you feel him kneel behind you, before feeling his teeth sink lightly into your ass. You can't hold your groan in, or hide the way your hips push back. He lets go of the bitten flesh, opting to lick at the marks with a sigh. "So pretty when you're needy." His lips press to your skin in peppered kisses, before he gently spreads your legs a bit more. You oblige, leaning on your forearms across the windowsill and holding the outside edge. His hands circle your upper thighs, and he squeezes them gently as he presses a kiss to your clit. You sigh, trying not to push against him as his tongue darts out, slowly dragging through your folds. He gathers your arousal messily, pulling soft whines from your throat when he finally wraps his pouty lips around your clit, sucking lightly. Your head hangs low as sounds slip from your mouth, your fingertips turning white from how hard you're gripping the windowsill when he begins to shallowly thrust his tongue into your hole, his hand moving from your thigh to thumb at your clit.

A whimper of profanities jumble from your lips, grinding your hips against his face and hand as your thighs begin to tremble. Your knees buck a bit, Seungkwan's arms reflexively moving to wrap around your waist as he buries his tongue deeper into your cunt. He groans into you, arms tightening around you as your hips continue to push back onto him. He grunts, pushing you away from his tongue entirely.

"You know, you're not very nice." He begins, making you groan. "I'm–" You're cut off by the wet sound of his fingers teasing your entrance carefully. You feel his teeth sink into the flesh of your ass again, your eyes fluttering shut as he slowly slides his fingers inside you, a low groan from your throat as he speaks. 

"You're what? A brat? A pain in my ass? Sorry, for both of those things, maybe?"

You huff at his words, "I'm sorry." He hums into your skin, his eyes trained on the way your gummy walls swallow his fingers with ease, curling them as you squirm. "Sorry for what?"

His fingers brush the spongy spot, making you jolt with a high-pitched moan. "Sorry for what, angel?" He coos, carefully keeping his slow pace as he stands, lips pressed to the skin of your neck and shoulders. 

"E-Everything." You sigh, your forehead pressed against your forearm, clenching around his fingers as he bullies them into you. "Everything, she says. What's this everything, hm?" He kisses your shoulder gently, peering over your shoulder to see your eyes screwed shut. Smiling to himself, he stills his movements, hearing you groan and peel your eyes open. "What are you sorry for?" You breathe out shakily, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as he slowly starts again. "I-I'm sorry for being a brat." "Oh, are you?" He nods, watching your hips push against his hand with a smirk. "Are you sorry for being a pain in my ass, too?" "No." You blurt, shaking your head as he snorts. "At least you're honest." "I keep you on your toes, you can't punish me f-for that." Your voice is no higher than a whisper as he moves his free hand to your face, carefully swiping away the stray hair sticking to your skin. "For the record, I don't hate you." You shake your head, eyes clouded with lust as you peer at him. "You do, though." 

He doesn't reply, opting to move his hand, now rubbing soft circles into your clit. Your legs tremble slightly at the added stimulation, whines from your throat as he begins to speak. "I don't. How could I?" He knows you'll probably forget this later, so why hold back? He presses his lips to your neck, peppering kisses there as he feels your pussy start to clamp around his fingers. 

"How could I, Y/N? I think about you all the time, you know? Fuck, you're so pretty." His teeth nip at the skin, and he feels you struggle to hold yourself up as your orgasm approaches. "Could never hate you, gorgeous. So good for me, right? Just for me." You shudder as the words hit your ears, and Seungkwan takes this as an incentive to keep going. "Wouldn't be the end of the world, would it? My pretty angel, all mine? Hm?" 

Your bitten lips part in a silent sob as you nod, your orgasm coating his fingers as your head hangs low. Seungkwan's eyes close as he presses his lips to your warm skin, unintelligible whispers slipping as he carefully withdraws his hand from between your legs. You remain silent as he slips away, before feeling a warm towel between your thighs.

"Take a bath. I'll make breakfast…or lunch, I guess now." He murmurs, tossing the towel aside and gently pulling your bruised elbows from the windowsill. You nod silently as he plants a soft kiss to your temple, before quietly guiding you to the bathroom. You feel your cheeks flush as his hand brushes your hip, pulling you close when you stumble. "Sorry." You mutter, but he only shakes his head as he pushes the bathroom door open, the sun now shining through the open window as he reaches for the faucet. He turns it on, running his fingers under the water until he deems it warm enough to help you climb into the tub.

"Any particular scent?" He asks as you settle into the cold tub, and you shake your head silently. No words are exchanged as he picks out his scent, the basil leaf in the jar mocking you as he slides it onto the rim of the tub. "Call me if you need anything, alright?" Nodding, you press your lips into a thin line as he carefully swipes your hair out of your eyes. His own are conflicted, but he nods curtly and takes his leave. 

You sigh shakily, your fingers reaching for your tense thighs as you think about his words. He'd come across the past few days as someone who didn't feel the need to prove anything to you – you were a human, someone who was virtually just a speck of dust in his universe.

Your eyes burn lightly, the tears of shame slipping down your cheeks as you groan inwardly. You certainly hadn't expected him to show you any of his feelings that way, but you weren't mad at all. You just felt…a pit of despair settle into your stomach.

Feeling like Seungkwan was out of your reach…that gap should be bridged now, right? He showed you his desire, he spoke about it. So why does he feel so much further away now?

SEVEN.

The next week and a half were the most mind-boggling thing you think you've ever experienced.

The two of you did not speak of the prior events – opting to both drown them out and keep repeating the same mistakes by enticing each other. If he wasn't waking you up with his tongue circling your clit, he was grinding his clothed cock against you in the kitchen and telling you how badly you got on his nerves. If you chose to run your mouth, he'd put it to better use – whether that meant he shoved a piece of bread into it or his cock was up for whatever the stars aligned with that day.

The past two days had been touch-free; the god was bent over his desk as you got ready to leave the temple. He'd promised you a visit to the market for new shoes as well as yarn for your loom, but he was everything but ready. He didn't move as he heard you standing in the doorway of his bedroom, your wine red skirt low on your hips as you leaned on the frame.

"Seungkwan?"

"Mmh?" He hummed, not looking up as he flipped a pen through his fingers. He heard you sigh, walking up to his desk and plucking it from his fingers. "You said we'd leave by noon. It's past that." "I did say that." He nods, reaching for his pen as you hold it out of reach. "Seungkwan."

He sighs, before finally looking up at you. His eyes widen slightly, and you look at him expectantly as he stares in silence. "Are you having a stroke?" "What?" He blinks, before shaking his head. You snort, before setting the pen on the desk. "Are you having a stroke? You've been odd all day."

Has he? He thinks back – bath, breakfast, a bit of time in the garden with you while he tried to teach you how to prune the marigolds…emphasis on tried.

"No. I'm fine. You look…nice. Ready?" He clears his throat, watching as you carefully slip your hair over your shoulder. You look exactly the same as you have since you arrived, but…something feels different. You feel different.

Could explain the absolute heat in his chest when he woke up to your face these past few days. And why he couldn't bear to look at you any longer than a simple conversation, he notes, as his eyes divert back to the philosophy book on his desk.

"Well…come on? I'm hungry and the walk is long." You smile, before turning on your heel. Seungkwan takes a deep breath, before standing and trailing after you. Neither of you stop to gather any bites for the road, but he can't unglue his eyes from the soft swing of your hips. 

Get it together. He shakes it off, opting to look away as you trek down the steps of the temple. "We can get new shoes for you today, I know I said we'd touch base on that." "We did!" You stretch in the afternoon sun, the light hitting your supple skin perfectly. Skin he longs to run his fingers down, sink his teeth into, kiss raw–

"Do you think they'll have yarn like my father's?" You ask, waiting for him to catch up to you. You link your arms once he does, ignoring the way he stiffens slightly as you slip your fingers in his. "I really liked the dyed yarns we'd get from Olympus. Lydia was always very barren for wool and such." He listens to you talk about your father for a while, as he subconsciously guides the two of you through the two-hour walk to the market. Why hasn't he gotten a horse? Why is he making you walk two hours, when you could be rambling about your memories upon a noble steed? He makes it a mental note as the twinkling lights of the market come into view. You stop talking and gasp lightly, your fingers squeezing his as you look over the treetops to the gaggle of tents and life. You smile inwardly, excitedly pulling him closer as you walk quickly. His cheeks burn as you finally reach the entrance of the market, a few bystanders looking at you as your eyes widen.

"Wow. It's beautiful here." You murmur, your eyes scanning the glittering of gold jewelry at the green tent he'd bought your necklace at. He lets you pull him carefully through the sweaty bodies, your eyes wide as you take in all the colors and glitters and the way you instinctively float over to a pair of slender shoulders hunched over a tent of yarns and wool.

The vendor looked up quickly, her smile bright as she saw you scour everything excitedly. You pulled your fingers out of Seungkwan's hand, leaving the god to stand a distance behind you as you ran the pads of your fingers across all the wool she had displayed. There were beautifully dyed yarns – from deep, earthy greens to royal purples, you carefully collected a few as the vendor showed you sample after sample.

"What do you think of this one?" Your voice brought Seungkwan back to Earth, his eyes landing on a soft, ocean blue yarn dyed lightly with indigo. You bounced the material in your palms, rattling off ideas of what you could weave with it when Seungkwan interrupts you.

"Get whatever you want, threadling. I've got it." Seungkwan pats his pouch, thankful he remembered to snag it off the desk before the two of you left the temple. In the glowing twinkle lights of the market, Seungkwan can almost make out a blush on your cheeks as you quickly whip around to look back at the vendor with a shy smile.

It wasn't long before you held a bag full of yarn, Seungkwan silently digging into his pouch for gold coins to give to the vendor. He took the bag gingerly, before you absently looped your arm with his as you bid the vendor a good evening. Your fingertips were cool against his, but he welcomed it as he squeezed them gently.

Seungkwan couldn't help but admire you under the twinkling lights and low sun. Your skin glowed slightly, the bruise on your shoulder from Jeonghan's visit now yellow with time. Your white top wrapped tightly across your chest, worn sandals guiding you through the people who began to gather around the jewelry tents.

His chest feels tight at the idea of falling in love with you under this romanticized perspective.

"Did you ever come here with your father?" Seungkwan asks softly, and you frown slightly, shaking your head. "My father was much too old to make the journey here. Our markets were further south, but it was mostly fish and fruit. I often went alone to gather our weekly rations. My mother…she was good friends with Taeyeon. I'm sure you know her, right? The goddess of harvest?" Seungkwan nods, "I do. She ventures into these parts every so often."

Smiling, you slow down and lean your head on his shoulder as you walk through the dusty market. Your gaze falls upon tasty treats and wide-eyed children holding sugared apples, and you find yourself leading Seungkwan over. "Are you hungry?" "I'm alright. Would you like something?" Seungkwan shifts in your hold, watching the vendor carefully peel an orange off its pith. You nod, pointing at the scrawled menu. "Have you ever had candied orange peel?" "Have you?" He snorts, looking at the jarred delicacy. He watched as your hands ghosted over a custard sitting on a bed of ice, before the vendor stood quickly, orange in hand as she pushed her partner away from the boiling sugar above the fire. "No, but I've also never really had desserts. My father was very strict about sweet things at night." Seungkwan nods as he watches the vendor shakily shove the slices onto a wooden skewer, before carefully coating them in the hot sugar. His fingers squeeze yours as she dips them into a bucket of ice water, the sizzle of the sugar making the water pop over the edge. She holds it up and out to you, a pointed look in her eyes.

"Take it." Seungkwan encourages, and you shyly reach out for it. She gives you a napkin, before mumbling to wait a bit to eat it. Seungkwan offers her money, but she shakes her head. "I haven't seen a pair of lovers in a while, just enjoy it." Seungkwan hates the way his entire body heats at the idea of being your lover, but you're not faring much better – your smile is shy as you nod, letting your hair fall into your eyes as you look away. The tips of your ears are flushed as you ask her for a jar of the candied peels, which she simply shoves into your hand. "On the house. Or on the tent, I guess." You pull Seungkwan away with yet another thank you from your lips, when Seungkwan's eyes catch the leathersmith beginning to set up shop. "Wait, you need new shoes. Let's go this way." You oblige, allowing the god to tug you carefully. The leathersmith was an older man who had his son along as an apprentice, aiming to have the younger man take over the shop once he passed on. Seungkwan had quite the hearty relationship with the older gentleman, but often found a small taste of disdain in his mouth after speaking to his son. He was young and a bit snobby, ungrateful – a few of the traits Seungkwan deemed unattractive.

"Oh, Seungkwan! I haven't seen you in quite a while. How are you? And who is this beautiful young woman? I'm Mr. Kim." The leathersmith took his hat off quickly, offering his hand for you to shake. You did so cheerily, as the older man smiled at you.

"I'm Y/N. I'm a…pupil of Seungkwan's." You say with a bit of hesitance, but Seungkwan's fingers squeeze yours in confirmation. You were, after all…just a pupil. Someone he's not supposed to have feelings for, he reminds himself.

Mr. Kim quickly gestures to his son, who is setting up the machinery. His hands are coated in oil from it, and Seungkwan feels his stomach turn at the idea of his fingers smearing it over your skin when they measure you. He'll have to wash your feet for you when you arrive home–

No? He won't?

"This is my son, you remember him, right? Jisung, say hello." The son glances up with a look of discernment, before Seungkwan notices his eyes land on you. You've begun to nibble onto the candied orange slices, licking your lips of bits of sugar. Seungwan instinctively pulls you closer, before the leathersmith looks at the god as he speaks. "Yes, I do. How're you, Jisung? Taking well after your father, I assume?" The younger man barely acknowledges him, his eyes still on you as you glance around all the leather scraps. There are a few different patterns on the soles of pre-cut shoes, and Seungkwan feels you pull away to run your fingers through the intricate designs. Stars, small waves, dainty paisley. There is a pair with flowers that stop at the arch of the shoe, and you hold it up.

"These?" Your eyes are a little brighter as you hold the candied oranges in your teeth, tracing the pattern with your bruised fingertips. Seungkwan smiles, starting to speak when Jisung cuts him off. "You have to get fitted and come back, we can't just give you pre-made soles." Seungkwan feels his lips tug down as Jisung takes the sole from you, and you nod carefully. "You could be nicer about it, you know. I'm sure your father wouldn't appreciate you treating his prospective clients with this attitude." Mr. Kim's eyes widen as his son scoffs, a quick flush overtaking his cheeks and ears as Jisung tosses the pre-made soles back into the bucket. He clears his throat as you turn away from Jisung with a frown full of disdain, before speaking up. "I assume you are here for shoes, right? What soles did you want?"

You shake your head and shrug. "Whatever you can make for me, I'll take it. I would hate to cause you any trouble, Mr. Kim."

It's clearly a jab at his son, but if he notices, he says nothing. The older gentleman rounds the chair he's had set up and fishes through the bucket for the soles you'd had in your hand. "These, right? They're marigolds." He taps the sole with his knuckle, before patting the chair with his hand.

"Sit, I'll fit them for you. They're pre-made for a reason, emergencies. Your straps are about to fall apart, dear." He grimaces at your sandals, and you feel a soft blush coat your cheeks. "Well, they've been through a lot with me." Seungkwan watches as you carefully take Mr. Kim's hand to sit atop the lifted chair, and as he carefully takes your sandals off. Your feet are slightly swollen from the walk to the market, and he nearly misses the way Jisung takes Mr. Kim's spot in front of you. He spreads his thighs over the edge of the stool, his hand grabbing your ankle out of the stirrup and examining your foot. He grimaces as he runs his fingers over the carmine-covered toenails, carefully tugging on your toes to make your joints pop.

It all felt too intimate for Seungkwan's taste, but he tongues his cheek as Mr. Kim starts digging through his bucket of leather straps.

"Do you want braided straps? I have a few of those, I think they'd suit you." Mr. Kim speaks as Jisung runs a wet sponge down the arch of your foot, making Seungkwan grimace inwardly. Your eyes flutter closed at the cool water dripping along your skin, Jisung's hands carefully massaging the sore arch. You don't respond, so Seungkwan nods in Mr. Kim's direction with a forced smile.

"Feel good?" Jisung's voice breaks through the air, and Seungkwan doesn't like the way his stomach tightens as your nose scrunches, his thumb digging into the heel of your foot. "Feels nice, yeah. We walked the entire way here." "Did you, now?" Jisung glances over his shoulder, and it's as if the shared horse for the father-son duo picks up on his commentary, whinnying behind the tent. Seungkwan frowns, "She asked to." "So you just do whatever she wants?" Jisung asks lowly, and Mr. Kim holds up a matching pair of fishtailed straps. "Aha!" Jisung gives Seungkwan a sour look as he carefully wipes your foot of excess water and dirt, leaving the god to cross his arms over his chest while holding your bag of yarn. You're trying to focus on the candied oranges in your hand, carefully biting at the sweet flesh when Jisung swipes the wet sponge across your other foot, holding it up to his face as he examines your toes. "Walk barefoot a lot?" "Well–" "Pretty girls like you shouldn't be doing that." He tugs at your toes, popping the joints in this foot as well before squeezing gently. "What kind of a god are you, letting her walk around in old shoes? Don't you care?"

Your eyes are wide as he speaks directly to Seungkwan, who only scowls. "Isn't it inappropriate to compliment your clients? Just do what you're here to do, I can take care of her on my own." "Seems like you can't, if she's walking here and wearing old shoes." Jisung barks back, and you shift uncomfortably. Seungkwan can tell you're starting to pick up on his disdain for the younger man, who only digs his fingers into the flesh of your calf. Seungkwan doesn't respond, opting to move over to Mr. Kim, who is hunched over his workbench. He's carefully piercing the leather with a thick needle, his fingers covered in makeshift thimbles as he holds the leather in shaky hands. Seungkwan doesn't let your conversation with Jisung leave his mind as he eavesdrops, Jisung asking you where you're from and if you're single. You just answer with a disinterested tone, something that makes Seungkwan smile inwardly as Mr. Kim holds the shoe up. 

"Think they'll fit?" He asks, needle tucked between his lips as Seungkwan examines it, nodding carefully. "If they're a little big it's fine too, she's on her feet a lot." No you weren't. You hadn't done anything in the temple but lay in his bed with him and prune flowers. He stopped making you step into the kitchen, last week allowing you to simply exist within the temple and the gardens. You enjoyed dipping your feet into the pond, and grabbing the frogs in your palms as they croaked quietly.

There hadn't been a single drop of rain since he had you against the windowsill in his bedroom. Almost as though Seungcheol was listening, and eerily enough, maybe even watching. 

Seungkwan took the time to tend the garden when he wasn't riling you up in whatever form he could. He hated that he was starting to enjoy the way you poked at him, wanting to elicit a reaction out of him, yearning for the way his hands would grip you firmly if he was pushing you against any surface he could manage.

Yet, your lips still have yet to graze in the way you beg for constantly. He'll kiss you anywhere you ask, anywhere you want – but your lips remain untouched, bitten by your own teeth, glossed by your own spit and calling his name out wantonly. 

How he yearns to shut you up that way sometimes.

"How is it, having a new pupil? You haven't had one in a while." Mr. Kim asks as Seungkwan's eyes trailed the way Jisung's hands go up a little too high on your knee. You frown a bit, your lips pursed as you push it down. He apologizes swiftly, a twitch in his lip as you cross your legs at the ankle. You both continue the odd conversation, with Jisung questioning your attire. You answer that Seungkwan made it for you, and isn't it so pretty?

Jisung glances over his shoulder before scoffing out a yeah.

"It's fine. She's very smart and quick witted, and keeps me on my toes." Seungkwan nods, watching you and Jisung out of the corner of his eye. Jisung is now massaging your feet with a salve, likely one from the apothecary two tents down. It smells of eucalyptus, a scent Seungkwan noticed you avoided in the shampoo shelf – the citrus basil disappearing much faster. Your nose scrunched once more as he wrapped your feet in warm towels from a basket, before your eyes met Seungkwan's.

You blink at him, tilting your head towards Jisung before making a face of annoyance. He huffs out a small laugh, earning a smile from you as you return your attention to the younger man in front of you. You ask Jisung if he always does this for his customers, and he snorts in response as he tucks the towel corner under your ankle with a resounding no.

"She's very pretty, Seungkwan." Mr. Kim pipes up from his workbench, and Seungkwan's eyes dart to the older man. He's giving the god a pointed look, watching as Seungkwan shifts silently before letting out a sigh. "I'm not ready, Mr. Kim." "We never are, when the right one comes along." He murmurs, and he looks up to ensure you can't hear him before he proceeds. "What's stopping you? The fact that she's a human?" "Somewhat." He shrugs, opting to leave out the extensive story of your past – how he sent you to the Underworld within hours of meeting you, how you made him feel vulnerable in a way he hated. How you made him feel like putty with your hands, your mouth, your words of praise and reassurance as you trailed your lips anywhere he'd let you. 

He remembers telling you how greedy you were as he nipped at your neck three nights ago, your incessant whining for a kiss on the lips only making him slow the rut of his hips against your clothed core. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, mouthing at his jaw with whimpers from your throat as he palmed at your body beneath him. "So, so greedy. Can never just take what I give you, hm? Always want more."

"What else?" Mr. Kim asks, and Seungkwan rubs his neck lightly, a worried smile on his lips as he admits defeat. "I just know that it won't work. She's a mortal, it won't be good for either of us. One day, she'll be gone and I'll still be left here." "Isn't the purpose of life to find something that fulfills you?" Mr. Kim objects, raising his brows at the god before him. "If she makes you feel happy, and you feel fulfilled making her feel loved, cherished, whatever the case may be – shouldn't that be enough for you to take it and run like the wind? Love is something so fickle, something so hard to find yet so easy to ruin. Don't let your doubts ruin what you and Miss Y/N have. You yearn for her, Seungkwan." "I do not." He scoffs, glancing at you as Jisung removes the now cool towels, your eyes closed as he wipes away the salve that went unabsorbed. Mr. Kim only smiles in response as he hands Seungkwan the shoes, the leather warm against his fingertips. "Just think about it, Seungkwan. It can't do any harm." Except it can, he thinks.

Seungkwan is selfish. He'd always been that way – wanting only the best for himself, opting to choose the better routes, the better classes, the better books. Carefully selecting anyone and everyone he allowed into his hermit-like life, his secretive ways.

He only wanted the best, and he fears that if he doesn't figure himself out soon, you'll be the only best he sees slip through his fingers. He knows that you're good – he knows that your heart is so painfully fragile, wrapped in layers of hurt from losing your father and missing out on the last years of his life. He knows that you're trying so hard to keep up the same facade that he is – that you're stronger than you let on, that you're braver, that you're better.

He's only a god because Seungcheol said so, he's no different than you are.

He figured that a few nights ago, watching you sleep against his chest. Your cheek was squished against his shoulder, your lips glistening with a bit of drool. He wanted to kiss you so deeply then, his fingers carefully carding through your tangled hair and tugging at the necklace he'd given you. You'd stirred slightly, barely opening your eyes to peer up at him. He smiled silently, making you grunt softly before snuggling back into his skin.

It's odd, he realizes. How easily just a taste of you, just one moment of his walls being down, led from angry, bitter words to playful banter and dirty phrases whispered into sweaty skin. How in just a few days, you carefully removed layers from his guarded heart, desperately wanting to earn a spot in it. And…he just let you. He just let you call him pretty, he just let you kiss his worries away. He let you toe the line of the boundaries he'd set in place, your lips just barely hovering over his when he'd let you take the lead, your skirt bunched around your hips as you both relished in the wet sound of your cunt dragging against his bare thighs.

He just let you prove to him, over the course of a few nights, that you desired him…but deeper than anyone ever had. You cared nothing about his presence as a god, in fact, you challenged it – you poked and prodded, you pissed him off with your carefully chosen words and you mended him back together just as quickly. You jerked his emotions around, riling him up by touching him inappropriately for a pupil, but he gave in so fast. He loved it, he loved how you felt against him, he loved you.

And it pains him inside.

"Let me see the shoes." Jisung breaks Seungkwan out of his thoughts, and he reluctantly hands them over to the younger man. Seungkwan fishes in his pouch for money, placing fifteen gold coins in Mr. Kim's change cup. Ten more than the leathersmith often charged, but Seungkwan paid him no mind as he watched Jisung carefully slide the sandals over your feet. 

Too. Intimate.

He carefully wrapped the straps around your ankle, the pads of his fingers lingering before Seungkwan cleared his throat loudly. Your eyes dart to the god, who has a frown on his lips as he offers his hand for you to step off the chair. The sun was slightly lower now, meaning it would be time to start heading home soon. You take Seungkwan's hand gingerly, carefully stepping down as your other hand presses against his chest for extra support.

"How d'you feel, Miss?" Mr. Kim asks as you bounce on your toes, and you seem content as you give him a warm smile and a thumbs up. You seem happy with them, but Seungkwan doesn't miss the way your eyes trail to the worn sandals you'd previously donned. They held history, they'd taken you wherever you'd been and seen everything you had. Seungkwan understands as he gathers them in his hand carefully, holding them out to Mr. Kim. "Can you refresh these? Is that possible?" 

Your eyes grow wide before they're squished by the fat of your cheeks as you smile, now wrapping your arms around Seungkwan's as Mr. Kim nods eagerly. "Return within a fortnight, I'll have them as good as new." Seungkwan nods, before pouring a few more coins into the change cup and bidding his goodbye. Mr. Kim gives him yet another pointed look, before looking at you. His eyes speak volumes – volumes of kiss her, of hold her, of love her.

Seungkwan nods curtly, before spinning on his heel and pulling you away.

"It'll be chilly soon. Would you like to get a blanket for the walk back?" He asks quietly, and you nod eagerly. "Maybe also, something else to eat? The candied orange was good but…I'm not full yet." Seungkwan glances over at you, seeing a bit of sugar crystals gathered at the corners of your lips. He smiles to himself, wiping his thumb against the skin carefully. You look at him as he licks the sugar off the pad of his finger, an amused look in your eyes as you shake your head. "If you wanted some of it, you could've said so." Seungkwan only smiles to himself, holding you close as he pulls you behind a tent. Your eyes scan his face as he carefully moves your hair away from your face. "I'm sure you still have some left, right?" "I finished it. See?" You hold up the empty skewer, your eyes innocently scouring him as he feels his chest warm. He takes it out of your hand, tossing it into a tent's garbage bin. "But you can give me a taste anyhow, can't you?" Your eyes cast confusion until his lips ghost over yours. "Didn't like how he was touching you." He murmurs, just barely touching your skin. "M'sorry." You mumble back, nuzzling your nose against his. 

"Are you?" He asks, pulling away slightly. Your cheeks are ruddy with embarrassment under his hands, his thumbs carefully pinching the fat. Your hands rest on his chest as he carefully takes your jaw in his large hand, the cool metal of his rings against your warm skin making you jolt. "Didn't like it. Only want you to touch me like that." You admit softly, your hands bunching the fabric of his chiton under them. He smiles, "Only me?" "Only you." You nod, and he hums in response. His thumb moves to pull at your plump lower lip, and he sighs as he moves back. "Well, we should start heading back. We can make it back before sundown, and it won't be as chilly." You look disappointed as he pulls back, your hands still holding onto his chiton as he does so. Your lip is jutted out into a pout, "Come on, Seungkwan." He bites back a laugh, opting to act dumb as he turns back to you. "Come on, what, Y/N?" "Kiss me." You frown, tugging his shirt gently until he's lowered enough to touch your nose to his. He lets you pull at him, his hands snaking around your waist. "Hm? Not sure you've earned that, angel." "You're so mean." You pout, your lower lip brushing his. He nips at it quickly, tugging it between his teeth as your eyes shutter closed. "Mean? You think so?"

He doesn't let you reply, pressing his lips against yours gently. He feels you sigh into his mouth, your hands moving up to his neck, arms gingerly wrapping around his broad shoulders. His hands hold your hips, squeezing them softly as he pulls you closer to him. His tongue gently eases into your mouth, tasting the sweet tang of the orange against your teeth. Your fingers curl into the nape of his neck, licking into his mouth with precision, trying to hide your desperation as you claw at him. He pulls away carefully, his tongue swiping across his lips as your eyes open.

"Why'd you stop?" You whine, only prompting him to press one, two, three chaste kisses to your open mouth. "Because we're in public, and if you want more, we have to get home, angel." "You'll give me more?" "I'll give you whatever you want." He nods, his forehead touching yours. "Promise?" Your voice is small, but he smiles, pulling you into his chest. "I promise, angel."

The trip home was full of soft touches and his fingers pinching any skin he could manage. He pressed his lips against yours more than twice on the way there, the thick blanket he'd bought you draped carefully over your shoulders as he held your bag of yarn and candied orange peels. Your hand held a small bag of roasted chickpeas, the only other snack you bothered to pick out after Seungkwan kissed you. You suddenly weren't hungry for food, only the white-hot feeling of his lips against yours. You didn't talk as you walked home tiredly, only looked at the sky and at the straps of your new sandals.

"Let me run you a bath, angel." He offers as the temple comes into view, and you look up hesitantly. "Join me for it."

"Hmm. Maybe." He shrugs, his hand finding its way to the nape of your neck and carefully wrapping around it. It's comforting, the weight of his warmth against your skin as he pulls you closer to him. You allow it, resting your head against his shoulder as the two of you reach the steps of the temple. The wind-down is easy. It's simple, he strips you of your clothing in his bedroom as he kisses you gently, his lips sweet against yours. Soft hums of approval as he felt your hands touch him as much as he'd allow, before guiding you down to the bathroom. He lets you tug off his chiton, his pants following as he holds you flush to him as he runs his fingers under the running water. 

And, he promptly joined you in the tub. Your back was nestled closely against his chest, his fingers wrapped around your hand and lips peppering kisses to your knuckles. Your hair had long been cleaned, his shampoo wafting off you as the warm suds surrounded your naked bodies. This…you'd read about this. Lovers, so close together. Lovers, holding each other dear, cherishing each other, worshiping each other.

Seungkwan's lips against your shoulders tear you from your thoughts, making you twist your head to peer at him. You wonder what's changed between the two of you. You know Seungkwan has kissed other mortals, done things he's done with you with other mortals. Why are you any different? Why is the taste of you any different, anything more than what he's had before?

And most of all, why does it weigh on you? Who cares about the other girls, as long as you get the guy?

You huff inwardly, toying with the suds at the edge of the tub.

"Closed mouths don't get fed, Y/N." His voice rings in your ears, the low rumble startling you slightly. He gives you a pointed look, his eyes sharp as he scans your features. "Sorry. Just thinking." "About?" He questions, his arms moving to wrap around your waist beneath the water. You shake your head lightly, leaning against his clavicle with a sigh. "Just everything and nothing, all at once." He doesn't press the issue. If he senses something is wrong, he says nothing. He instead runs his hands up your torso, pads of his fingers tickling your skin. "I really enjoyed spending time with you, today." He admits softly. You feel your cheeks heat as you look back at him again.

"Really?" "Really. I know we were late, we can go back another time and go as early as you'd like." He nods, and you smile widely as you nod in excitement. He smiles, his thumb moving to stroke your cheeks gently. "Let me take you to bed, yeah? It's late, we have a lot to do tomorrow." "You always say that, then you leave me wrapped in the duvet all morning and hand-feed me breakfast." You roll your eyes, making Seungkwan snort. "I can make life a lot harder, if you'd like." 

"No, don't do that." You feign a pout as you twist in his hold, opting to straddle his lap under the warm water. He looks up at you, his hands resting on your upper thighs. "Tread lightly, angel." "I'm not doing anything." You smile down at him, opting to run your hands through his damp hair. He tongues his cheek. "You're always up to no good." "Just miss you." You murmur, pressing your forehead against his. He hums in response, pressing yet another chaste kiss to the corner of your lips. "Let me take you to bed." He repeats, voice raspier than before. You nod, before planting your lips against his without second thought. He allows it, kissing you back slowly as his arms wrap around your waist. 

"Come on." Once more, the night is smooth. You notice a few clouds gathering in the distance as Seungkwan wraps you carefully in a towel, his hands gently massaging your shoulders as the two of you trek to his bedroom. You hadn't slept in your own since that one night, with Seungkwan guiding you himself so as to not lose you in the dark.

You hated the way your stomach turned as you reached the bedroom and the clouds seemed closer, hoping it meant nothing. Hoping that you'd get to have this soft side of Seungkwan for longer, hoping that Seungcheol's mind games were just his own problems seeping through in the form of rolling thunder and bright lightning.

"Smells like rain." Seungkwan murmured as he dried your hair carefully with another towel, your eyes closed as you inhaled deeply. "It does." Neither of you say anything else as you close the window tightly, placing towels on the ground should the forthcoming rain leak through. You slide under the covers as Seungkwan lights a lamp on his desk, burning slowly before he slides in next to you. He holds you close this time, instead of leaving you at arm's length.

"Goodnight, angel." "Goodnight, Seungkwan."

You try to ignore the clap of thunder in the sky as you snuggle into his chest, your cheek once more squished against his shoulder as he presses a soft kiss to your hairline. His own heart is thundering against his chest, and you can only hope it's because he fears the same thing you do.

Fighting once the night has passed, and the rain continues to pelt the wet Earth – and your blooming relationship alongside it.

EIGHT.

It has been six days since you and Seungkwan have been intimate at all, and there has been endless rain. He hasn't spoken much to you as it is, instead finding his way outside or busying himself in his bedroom – with his door closed. Your cheeks burn in humiliation when he closes the door behind him before bed, leaving you to burn the lamps in your bedroom through all the oil they've got while you curl yourself against the sheets. He doesn't spare you these nights, leaving you to feel your eyes heavy in the mornings, often retreating back during the bright afternoons to nap.

He feels relieved when you're not around.

Your lingering touches earn his hand pushing you away, the confusion in your eyes remaining unanswered as he pushes past you in the mornings. He won't look at you, he won't kiss you, he won't speak unless you speak first. He'll slide breakfast onto your nightstand and disappear for hours once you've awoken, his shoulders hidden behind bushes of flowers and tall trees in his garden. He silently washes the dishes, bakes countless focaccia loaves, pours your wine and runs your bath water.

He didn't join you again. You bit your tongue, hoping maybe it was just some odd rut of his. He seemed lost in thought as he rearranged flowers in clay pots left behind by former pupils as gifts, but you didn't miss the way he stiffened as he heard you behind him.

"Everything okay, Seungkwan?" You questioned softly, a gentle look on your face as you peered over his shoulder. He nods quickly, clearing his throat. "Yes. Lunch is soon, so why don't you spend some time in the bedroom? Or outside? I'll–" "Come outside with me." You suggest, before scanning his posture. "You've seemed really out of it for the last few days. It's starting to worry me." "Don't worry about me. I'm just in my head about things, I've got a lot to do." He lies like a dog, and you frown inwardly before stepping forward to stand next to him. "Come with me, Seungkwan." I miss you, lingers on your tongue, but he sighs frustratedly before his hands find your bare shoulders, turning you quickly and pushing you towards the garden doors. You try not to melt into the heat of his fingers, instead shaking them off quickly as you reach the beginning of the garden. The oak trees lining the garden tower over you, and you frown as the sky turns slightly grey at your presence. The clouds begin to roll in gently, covering the sunlight as you sigh.

"Are you upset with me?" You blurt, turning to face a rather unconfident Seungkwan. His eyes widen as he shakes his head. "Not at all. Come, we can prune the tulips–" "Seungkwan, be honest with me. I don't like this." Your confession makes his eyes dart away from your face, his hands folding in front of him as he loses purpose for them. He doesn't respond, instead tilting his head in the direction of the tulips. You tongue your cheek, before you step closer to him. His breath hitches in his throat, and you don't think you'd ever seen him look this unsteady.

"What is going on?" You murmur, your hands carefully rising to hold his face. He frowns, quickly capturing your wrists as your palms cover his cheeks. "Nothing is going on, Y/N." "Where have you gone?" Your whisper is slightly broken, your eyes full of concern for the equally ruined god in front of you. His eyes tear away from yours, nibbling his lip as you raise onto your tiptoes, moving him to face you. "I thought we were making progress here." "I don't need you to make progress in anything." He says, almost too quickly for you to believe him. Definitely too quickly for you to believe him, "You don't mean that." "I do. I do mean it, Y/N. Whatever was happening here, it can't continue. I know it must've been confusing, trust me–" You frown, cutting him off abruptly. "How can I? How can I trust you, when you've done all of this? You give me everything you've got, expressing nothing short of desire for me. You touch me in ways I haven't been since my first life, even by those I've slept with in the past. You kiss me like it means something and then you abandon me, you make me sleep alone like a dog and you don't speak to me. What twisted game are you playing? Is this the just and fair god you claim to be?"

Your anger bounces right off him, his cheeks flaming red as he sighs. 

"Y/N, this is a dangerous game. It's got nothing to do with you, or how I could or could not feel about you." His hands take yours off his face, holding your wrists tightly as if he needs them to ground him. Your eyes meet as your back hits the oak tree marking the end of the marigolds – you can see him holding back feelings of desire, and you're sure yours scream the same as the words slip from your lips.

"Then kiss me like you mean it." He groans, his grip on your wrists loosening as he pulls away. "You know I can't do that, Y/N. It's not right."

"Why? Because I'm some mortal? Because I'll never satisfy you?" You wrestle your wrists out of his grasp, crossing your arms defiantly across your chest. "Y/N–"

"Why won't you let me show you that you're just like me? Because you want to keep up this façade that you're perfect? Huh? Is that it?" You push his chest lightly, watching as the sky rolls with dark clouds in the distance and water begins to pelt the two of you. "Why won't you let me in?"

"Because." His jaw is tight as he turns away, and you grab his arm so he doesn't walk away from you, his shoulders tensing at your touch. "Because what, Seungkwan? Aren't you always spewing that you're a just and fair god? Aren't you always telling me that it's your job to guide? Well, I need some guidance here! Give me something to follow! Let me help you!" He huffs inwardly, turning back sharply and pulling you to him by your shirt, his other hand pushing your now wet hair out of your face. His eyes trail your face, and he speaks quietly.

"I can't, because you won't be here someday. I'll be left to yearn for you for the rest of my miserable eternity and I can't do that to myself. I could beg and plead with anybody who'll listen to let me have you forever, but I'd be disrupting the natural order of life. I can't kiss you, now or ever again, because you'll suffer. And I think you've had enough suffering for yet another lifetime."

Your brows furrow as you lean in closer to him, feeling his fingers quickly card through your hair and pull you back, your lips just missing his. Your eyes close at the tug, the way you know his rings will snag and you'll like it. 

"You can't tell me when I've had enough." You murmur, and he folds.

His lips slot against yours in a fiery kiss, pushing you against the tree and pulling a whimper from your throat as his teeth nip at your lips. You try to keep up, his hands choosing to roam your body, grabbing at any exposed skin they can before finding the slit of your skirt. His fingers circle your thighs carefully, bearing your weight against the rough trunk of the tree and wrapping your legs around his waist. 

"This is hard for me, too." He pulls away, eyes closed as he rests his forehead against yours. "It doesn't have to be. Just let me in, I can help you." You plead with him, his shaky breath against your lips.

"I can't." His eyes close, his fingers tight around your thighs as your red skirt bunches higher. Your hands reach for his face again, thumbs carefully rubbing his cheeks as his eyes open to stare into yours. "Just trust me, Seungkwan." "It's not right, Y/N." He shakes his head, only for your words to come out with a bite. "You're selfish."

He huffs, nodding. "So what? I am, I am selfish. I can't imagine a fucking life without you tugging on my sleeve, is that what you want to hear? That I'd rather die an honest death than let you help me figure out something I should know on my own? I'm a god, for fuck's sake. I don't need your help, now or ever!"

"Then what the fuck are we doing? Why can't you just mentor me the way you were supposed to, huh? Why did you…" You trail off as you push him away from you, your lips pursed tightly as you fight off tears. Things are happening way too fast – but they started fast, anyway. Impatience usually makes things crumble like sand at your fingertips.

"Just…leave me alone. You don't need me, so I don't need you." You pinch the bridge of your nose, before pushing your wet hair off your face. "Don't walk away from me, we're not done here." His hand shoots out to wrap around your arm, his cool rings digging into your skin as you twist away from him. "Aren't we? You hurt me, Seungkwan. You're actively hurting me, by pushing me away. You don't care about anyone except yourself, because if you did, you would've never kissed me in the first place. You would've told Jeonghan no when he sent me here, you wouldn't have taken me in. You…you're selfish. You're selfish and you're a liar. And I hate that. I hate you!" You spit, angry tears streaming down your cheeks as you turn away from him.

"I'm not like you, Seungkwan. I can't just hide how I feel, not when I wear my heart on my sleeve. You can pretend all you'd like, fake it until you make it, do whatever you please." You mumble to yourself, sniffling deeply before meeting his eyes. Eyes that have glossed over with tears he won't dare let slip, but you only sigh.

"I deserve better than this." Your lip quivers as you push past him, the rain quickly drenching your top. You shiver as you walk away, wrapping your arms around yourself to create your own warmth as you hear a roll of thunder over your head. "I fucking heard you, Seungcheol. I got it." You mutter inwardly, feeling relief as the rain stops pelting your shoulders the moment you duck into the temple.

You silently walk to the bathroom, turning the faucet on for warm water to run out as you strip off your wet clothing. Your fingers fumble with the pins, holding them between your lips as you ease yourself into the filling tub, not bothering to grab for soap. You sigh as the warmth engulfs your limbs, shivering as you sink further.

Who were you kidding, really? You knew things between a god and a mortal weren't made to last. He'd said it, you'd agreed to it, you even admitted you'd rather die than become a goddess to live alongside a god who deems himself better than you. 

But, it doesn't mean you don't know that Seungkwan is far greater than you'd be, potentially ever. He held a power you'd never know anything about, this weight on his shoulders that he admitted himself to. You knew of gods who didn't care for their particular talents, gods who boasted nothing of their importance and gods who simply lacked interest in who or what they represented. You knew of gods who loved endlessly and deeply – Wonwoo and Mingyu. You knew of gods who admitted their wrongdoings – Jeonghan, Woozi, and Vernon.

You knew of gods who willingly did wrong, who willingly admitted it, who still searched and aimed for better – Seungcheol. If the god of the sky could openly spew his own faults, if the god of the sky could do as he pleases without so much as a second thought, why can't Seungkwan? Why can't you be the reason behind his loss of control, why can't he see you as something more than a mortal he's got to hold together? You're not broken, you're not ruined by anything but the way his skin feels against yours, his lips slotted perfectly into yours, him showing you that he wants nothing more but to melt into you and never stop being one.

So why suddenly switch up his act? Why stop kissing you when he's been all over you for longer than he hasn't, why pretend you're not someone he desires to hold near and dear to his heart when you both know that you were slowly, surely, chipping away at him? Because he'd be admitting imperfection.

And god forbid Boo Seungkwan admit he's not perfect.

You felt a sob in your throat, but pushed it down as you thumbed at the necklace he'd given you. Emerald, for growth. Scoffing to yourself, you peel it off, leaving it to dangle from the faucet handle as you turn away from it. The rain has stopped now, the sound of nature being overtaken by a few birds chirping in the trees and the occasional frog croaking beneath the windowsill.

The next three days were quieter than ever. 

You were locked in your bedroom, ignoring any of Seungkwan's attempts to speak to you. You let breakfast go uneaten, only sneaking out of your room when you'd see him hunched over in the garden from your window. You hid yourself away, opting to weave your fingers numb with the new yarn you hadn't used since you brought it home. 

He hadn't been home since last night, either. You didn't question anything, didn't care to. If he'd cared for you to know, he would have told you. After all, he is a just and fair god, is he not?

It's laughable.

All you could do was weave depictions of what you and Seungkwan could have been, or what you were. A large owl wearing an olive branch, a single spider perched carefully on the predator's shoulder. Unassuming, maybe hoping for the best despite expecting the worst from the bird. A twist of the neck, a bite off the head – and you'd be dead. "Would it be a painful death, at hands so soft?" You murmur to yourself, untangling the yarn from your fingers. The ocean blue was your background, the owl beige and brown with eyes of gold, the spider black with a single patch of gold on its chest. Representing what? Growth? A bruise of pain? A change of heart? You roll your shoulders back carefully, the soreness digging deep into your left cuff as you stretch. Sighing, you thread your fingers through the loom once more, your tired eyes drooping as you gingerly pull the yarn through. You felt alone, and yes, lonely alongside it all. You hadn't expected the god to weigh so heavily on you. You reminded yourself he chose that, though – he told you that he didn't need you. He doesn't need you to teach him anything. He doesn't need you at all.

Scoffing to yourself, you hear the creek of the window shutters behind you. You don't look over, only hearing the oh-so-familiar click of Jeonghan's boots on the marble tile. "Y/N." "Tsk, don't remind me that I've been a bad girl this time. Just tell me how I fucked up, yeah?" You respond with practised ease, not bothering to acknowledge him further. Jeonghan sighs, squatting next to your bent form in front of the loom. His fingers ghost over your hunched back, before they touch your skin. His fingertips are nothing like Seungkwan's – ice cold, even a bit callused. You move away.

"You never listen, do you?" He clicks his tongue, and you nibble at your lip without response. Shrugging, you try to act nonchalant when you feel his cold fingers swipe at your cheeks carefully. You look at him with a sigh, earning a pitiful look. "Don't pity me, Jeonghan." "I don't. I think you're an idiot, but I'd never pity you. You don't deserve that." He shrugs, before sighing. "Nice tapestry." "Thanks." You look at your fingers, when Jeonghan's hand moves to rest on your shoulder. "How's the shoulder doing? Still gets painful after you bury yourself in work?" He's referring to your constant whining of shoulder pain from the first time he met you. Something must've happened when you landed, because you'd been groaning about the pain for a few hours until he shoved you in front of a loom and asked you to weave it out – his way of asking you to shut the hell up. You'd woven something for him before he let you leave the Underworld, but like always – lost yourself in the task. You wove beautiful tales of fruit and love, and the tapestry hung proudly behind Jeonghan's throne. You hadn't seen it move since the second time you'd been dropped in.

"It's fine. Haven't had a chance to make myself a salve, Seungkwan won't let me fucking be. He's been gone for a night, though, so I might sneak out if he's not in upon nightfall." You mutter, thrumming your fingertips against the taut yarn. Jeonghan smiles, "Maybe you should let him make you the salve, Y/N. Let him take care of you." "I'd rather die than take his help." You scowl, crossing your arms with a wince of pain. Jeonghan rolls his eyes, resting his forehead against your bicep. "Darling, don't you think you're being too hard on him? You haven't spoken in three days." "He chose that. He basically told me I was just a game to him. How the fuck do you know that, anyway?" You move away from his touch again, only for the god's maroon eyes to swirl something dark. "Are we forgetting I assigned you here? I know everything that happens – every branch that snaps, every frog that croaks, every pretty little moan from that throat of yours. I see it all." "Creep." You stick your tongue out at him, making him stifle a grin. "He talks about you a lot when you're not in earshot. Mostly to himself, but you know." Jeonghan gestures to the air, insinuating he sees all, hears all. Every thought Seungkwan's had of you outside of his own head, Jeonghan knows about.

Meaning Seungcheol also probably knows about it.

You shrug again. "I don't care. He said what he said in front of me, and that negates anything he could've ever said behind my back. He kissed me, Jeonghan." 

"Didn't you beg him to?" He taunts, pinching your thigh playfully. You tongue your cheek, an embarrassed blush coating your skin as you nod. "I did…but I guess I got ahead of myself. No…god would ever fall in love with a mortal. Not the way a mortal would a god." Jeonghan's eyes widen at your words, taking your hands in his quickly. He squeezes them gently, "Don't say that." "Isn't it the truth? No god just falls in love with a mortal, Jeonghan. A god would be a fool to do that, even Mingyu did it by accident. He struck himself with an arrow, that love is nothing but purely coincidental. It's just held together by that, strings of coincidence." You scoff, and Jeonghan's brows furrow incredulously.

"Are you hearing yourself, darling? This isn't you." He shakes head at you, his bangs falling from the crown of Gladiolus flowers he wore religiously. You snort, tucking the stray hair under the petals quickly before sighing. "It's the truth, Jeonghan. Whether I want to believe it or not, whether I felt something for someone like Seungkwan at some point, it's the truth. It's not meant to be, so as soon as you say I can leave this place…I'm going." Your words pierce something within him, you can tell as he frowns deeply. His jaw ticks, as he mutters under his breath. You tilt your head at him, leaning closer, to hear the words spill from his lips. "You're the fool, Y/N." You frown inwardly, as Jeonghan groans in frustration. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. The two of you were on a good path. You were figuring things out, even if it was by exploring each other the way you chose to. You were intimate in ways Seungkwan hasn't been with anyone else before – he kissed you, he was letting you in. What happened?" Jeonghan paces in front of you, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked around. His lip tucked between his teeth as he nibbled lightly, your own voice tearing through the air as if to cut through any building tension.

"He just regrets it. It happens." You shrug, earning a scoff from the god in front of you. "Regrets it? Y/N, the guy was practically falling in love with you! You're smart, you're charming, you're the biggest brat I've ever met! How could he regret you, darling?" I don't know, you want to say. But a part of you doesn't want to know, either. Your eyes sting as you look away, but you close them only as you speak once more. "You're right, either way. I am the fool, Jeonghan, as are you." "Me!? I was trying to help you!" He balks, a look of incredulity in his eyes as a strong wind blows your shutters open. You jump in your seat, the tension in your shoulder making you groan as you dig your fingers into it carefully. "I know, and I appreciate it. It's just a shame it went to waste, I guess. He doesn't need me, and soon, I won't need him."

Jeonghan's jaw is tense as he stands upright, towering over you as you awkwardly adjust yourself on your stool. "Fine." "What?" You glance up at him, your hands now folded in your lap. "You can go. Whenever you're ready, you can leave the temple without another word." Jeonghan's words are anything but comforting, something you weren't used to from him. His eyes are darker than normal as he rubs at his temples, his tongue running over his lip as he sighs. "I expect you to return to Lydia and find Wonwoo. You'll room with him while you get back on your feet. I can get you an escort by tomorrow morning, if you choose to stay the night here. It smells like rain." Your brows raise at the phrase, something Jeonghan doesn't care to acknowledge. "I expect you to be on your best behavior, because we meant what we said, Y/N. No more second chances."

You blink at the god before you, who only shakes his head. "You can never say I didn't try."

Jeonghan ruffles the tendrils of your hair, carding his fingers through it before pressing a chaste kiss to your hairline. He sighs, "Good luck. You know where to find me." He spins on his heel, the soles of his shoes clicking against the marble once more as he treks the room. "Finish that tapestry before you leave. It'd do you well to leave Seungkwan a parting gift."

You don't respond as Jeonghan hops out of the window, pulling the shutters closed as he lands on the ground. 

Was it really that easy? You just get to say you're done? It's never been that easy before. Jeonghan has never let you off the hook so smoothly, much less when it's something that benefits him just as much (if not more) than it benefits you. 

You turn back to the unfinished tapestry, the yarn now tangled at your feet. You bend at the waist to pick it up, feeling your shoulder tense up as you begin undoing the knots. Soon, it's all just strings of blue and beige and brown, and your eyes feel tired as you weave into gloomy sunset.

No rain yet.

"It's certainly a pleasure to see you, Seungkwan." The younger god squirms under Seungcheol's gaze, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach. He rarely visited, and if he did, it was never without good reason. Like you, he too loved to do shit he wasn't supposed to. It often landed him here, whereas most mortals landed with Jeonghan – call it father-son privileges.

"Likewise." He replies curtly, clearing his throat as he lowers himself to the chair one of the angels has brought forth for him. He sits silently, with Seungcheol simply arching his brow at him in curiosity. "What brings you here? Trouble in paradise?" Seungkwan chokes as Seungcheol smiles into his teacup. "What?" "Before there was you, there was me." Seungcheol gestures at their surroundings with his bejeweled hands, setting the teacup down before him. "You've come to ask for redemption." "I have not!" Seungkwan scoffs as the servants place a plate of sliced fruit and warmed bread in front of him, the honey wand still inside his teacup as they slide it down. Seungkwan's ears burn in embarrassment as Seungcheol folds his hands, his eyes holding the same kind of mischief they've always shown. Seungkwan grimaces at the spread of food before him, his stomach churning at the idea of you sneaking out of your bedroom tonight as well, hoping he won't be in the kitchen as you steal bites of focaccia and cheese, pieces of salmon and lamb disappearing from the counter. Pieces he's left out for you, hoping you'll take them. Even if you don't accept the silent apology behind them.

"Being a god weighs on you heavier than I've ever seen before." Seungcheol speaks softly, earning a wistful look from Seungkwan. He doesn't respond, Seungcheol running his hand through his hair as he sighs. "You know I can't do anything for you up here, right?" "I was just hoping you'd give me some peace of mind." Seungkwan's eyes flutter closed, and Seungcheol scoffs out a soft, humorless laugh. "Me? Of all people?" "Believe it or not, I do admire your insane strength sometimes. I'm sure it'd drive me mad to be in charge of everything and everyone. I can barely handle one person." Seungkwan admits quietly, making the older man smile sadly. "I wasn't always like this." "I know." Seungkwan nods, his hand moving to take the honey wand out of his cup. "I think it was you who told me that I can't be good at everything right away. I have to learn my way." "And was I wrong? Have you not become better at things?" Seungcheol's voice holds a tilted tone, strong brows pointing Seungkwan in the direction of what's needed to be said. He sighs, nodding as he brings the teacup to his lips.

"Why does it come so easily to her?" He whispers against the porcelain, and Seungcheol only shakes his head. "What comes easily to her, comes easily to you. Both good and bad, but you both choose to focus on the things you don't have. You're human that way, you know." Seungkwan's brows raise as he looks up at the older god, who stirs a bit of cream into his tea. "I know I'm not a love expert. I've done it all – adultery, multiple wives, reverse harem at one point." Seungcheol clears his throat, cheeks tinging pink as he continues. "But I know a good woman when I see one. Y/N…she gets you. She fakes you out just enough, but never takes it too far. She knocks you down a few pegs, she makes you loosen up." "I do nothing for her." Seungkwan mumbles, holding the warm tea in his hands. It's only a few shades lighter than the first cup of tea you'd ever made for him. Seungcheol hums, "I'd argue that you do a lot for her. You feed her, bathe her, clothe her." "That's my job." The younger god tries to argue, but Seungcheol shakes his head with a smile. "Your job, Seungkwan, is to guide her. You let guilt take you down a path you would've never taken in the first place, but that guilt has begun to melt away into something much deeper. You peel her peaches. You add tomatoes to the focaccia when you hate tomatoes, you pour her wine, you fit her clothes. You hold her close and you've kissed her, Seungkwan. You've let her get further and deeper than anyone ever has."

Seungkwan sits in silence, feeling his eyes sting with tears as he looks away.

"You love her." Seungcheol whispers, making Seungkwan rest his elbows on the table, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes as his shoulders shake lightly. Seungcheol reaches over, running his palm down Seungkwan's back with a gentle sigh. "You have to talk to her, Seungkwan. She figured you out faster than anyone has before. She unwrapped you from the day she got there." Seungkwan wipes at his eyes with frustration, letting a breath slip through his lips as he leans over the plate of food in front of him. He hopes you're eating something by now.

"You have to apologize, and admit your faults. You won't get through this life being so uptight about everything. They know we mess up, mortals are mortal, they're not dumb." Seungcheol rolls his eyes, earning a soft smack from Seungkwan. Wiping the younger's cheek, Seungcheol strokes the side of his head gently. "So you admit, you're looking for redemption?" Seungkwan struggles not to roll his eyes, before reluctantly nodding his head. "We can do that. Shall we?"

Seungkwan follows Seungcheol with his head low, hands clasped behind his back as the two of them make their way down the weaving halls of Seungcheol's paradise. One he'd built brick by brick, with the sweat off his brow and blood of his fingertips – housing over hundreds of gods.

Including Mingyu and his wife, Tzuyu.

Seungcheol knocks on the soft pink door, the gold knob twisting open to reveal a barely dressed Mingyu with hair stuck to his forehead. Seungcheol snorts as he pushes past, seeing Tzuyu sitting at their shared desk with a pile of books draped open in front of her. "No hello?" She calls, and Seungkwan watches as she turns in her seat.

Her outfit of a long gown and glittering sandals screams date night. Mingyu's lack thereof screams night in. A couple's quarrel, Seungkwan can tell, from the tick in her jaw and his sleepy eyes. The flowers from a few weeks ago sit in a jar, still teeming with life despite being brutally murdered by his shears.

"Hello. I've come to deliver something much more interesting than date night." Seungcheol wiggles his brows at the goddess, whose wings twitch with curiosity. "Seungkwan?" "Just trust me." The god of the sky pushes the younger one forward, and Tzuyu's eyes flash something wild as she looks over at her husband, who is now tugging a light beige chiton over his chiseled physique. "I've no reason to trust you, Seungcheol. But…I guess this is better than nothing." "Baby, I already said I was sorry. I'll make it up to you." Mingyu whines as his head gets stuck in the top of his shirt, making Seungkwan roll his eyes as he reaches over to help him. Mingyu's head pops out with a dazed look, before he shakes his head to regain his composure. The goddess before him frowns, but sighs in resignation. "What are we doing?" Seungcheol smiles, grabbing Seungkwan's shoulders and pushing him forward. "Loverboy here needs some guidance."

She quirks a brow in interest, her wings flickering behind her as she stands. The goddess flits around the duo, her manicured hands resting on her chin as her husband sits on her cushioned bench. "What are we guiding, exactly? And take your shoes off!" Seungcheol only smiles as Tzuyu forces Seungkwan to sit down, a worried look in the younger god's eyes as she hums. "This is about that pupil of yours, isn't it? Y/N, the mortal?" He nods silently, picking at his cuticles as Tzuyu gives the other gods a look of mirth. "Young love." She grins, before patting the god's shoulders. "I can fix you." "Don't. I'm fine like this." Seungkwan blurts, making Mingyu's eyes crinkle at the corners. "Yeah?" "Yeah. Can't be perfect all the time, can I?" He shivers as the words slip past his lips, and the surrounding gods only nod in agreement. "Well, let's get started." Tzuyu's voice breaks in once more, and Seungcheol steps back to allow her some more room. Seungkwan's eyes fill slightly with a bit of fear, but they close at Seungcheol's command.

Nothing but warmth can be felt around him, his chest tightening with the thought of you flooding his mind. So this is love.

It's well past nightfall as you massage your shoulder gently, your fingers not going nearly as deep as you need them to but the finished tapestry mocking you in the corner of the room. You groan in frustration, tears gathering in your waterline as you paw at yourself. You didn't manage to leave the room for dinner either, hearing Seungkwan (or…who you assumed to be Seungkwan) stumbling around in the kitchen. Truth be told, you're too much of a wimp to check. 

It didn't matter now, anyway. You'd agreed with yourself to leave the following morning, hoping for no rain. Your tapestry was large and completed, bold blues and soft beige catching the corner of your eye every way you turned. You situated your items into the bag that the yarn vendor gave you, including the blanket Seungkwan had purchased before the walk home. Your clothes were neatly rolled at the bottom, and one singular book of poems tucked under the red glitter sash you'd stolen from the god on your first few days here.

It's an odd feeling, imagining your life continuing without Seungkwan. No one to badger, no one to long for. Wonwoo would be around, but he was more your friend than anything else. Someone who took care of you as you did him, because that's what friends are for.

Jeonghan is just another god who gave you another chance. You've no friends outside the two of them, if you can even consider them to be friends. You don't know why you did it in the first place, but it makes you sick to admit that maybe, for the first time – Seungkwan's words of you not being perfect are starting to seep in deeper.

You hear a soft knock at your door, and you quickly wipe your face of any tears that would give you away as you sit up on your bed. You cross your legs over another, before clearing your throat, "Come in." Seungkwan's tired eyes peer in through the crack of the door, scanning you quickly. "Can we talk?" You don't really want to talk to him. You know that if you do, you might cry. Not that he wasn't good at making you do that anyway, but it's not like he cared. Who knows where they got 'compassionate' from, but you figure that a cruel goodbye is better than no goodbye. Nodding slowly, you watch as he slips into your bedroom, a shaky sigh from his lips as he looks at the silver tin in his hand, paired with wrapping sheets and a towel. His way of apologizing, you noticed, was this. Homemade things that would or could be of use to you, or something you might like. Like the linen he'd gotten you on your second day here with him.

"For your shoulder. It's…it's menthol and peppermint, and a little capsaicin for heat." He opens it, the muted orange salve glistening at you. You shrug, a wince crossing your face as your shoulder ticks with pain. He looks at you, and there's something in his eyes you don't recognize. You didn't really know Seungkwan, you were certain now – but his behavior seemed out of the ordinary.

"Thank you. I'd put it on, but…" You gesture at your clothing, and roll your eyes as your shoulder throbs. "You can just leave–" "I can do it for you, if you'd like." He speaks quickly, fumbling with the lid as you raise a brow at him. You recall the way he barked at you just days before, telling you he'd rather die than ever let a mortal like you help him in a time of need. The fury in his eyes when he said he didn't need you to teach him anything, and his subtle acknowledgement of that meaning he'd be depriving himself of you and your touch, your presence, your love – for the rest of your time on this Earth with him.

You click your tongue, but he rushes to sit on your bed, the wool mattress sinking below him. He adjusts himself to sit behind you, his inner thighs gently pressing against your hips. You don't say anything, simply reach for the pin that holds your top together and take it out, letting the soft cloth slip off your torso.

His hand moves your hair carefully, fingertips brushing your neck as he swoops it over. Your fingers hold it in place as you see the tin appear on his thigh, slender fingers taking a bit. "This'll be cold for a moment." The salve is cool as it touches your skin, the feeling against heat of your pained muscle making you jump. He lets out a muffled sound, his fingers softly working the salve into your skin. "Easy, don't move." He murmurs, feeling the heat of the capsaicin in his fingertips.

He's gentle and focused, and you remain rigid in front of him as thunder rolls ahead. Sighing at the sound, you peer over your injured shoulder. "Almost finished?" His eyes flicker to yours, lips pressed lightly together as he nods. You don't turn back around just yet, watching his face carefully as he continues. His free hand grabs a wrapping sheet, and he presses it firmly to your skin. 

"So it won't get on your clothes." He murmurs, and you nod, before facing out the window again. The clouds are rolling in, and you see a singular lightning bolt light up the sky. You wonder what Seungcheol could be doing now.

He wipes his fingers on a towel, tossing it into the empty dirty clothing basket behind you. Capping the tin, he uses his other hand to move your hair back. He slides the tin onto your night table, before grabbing the pin for your shirt and moving his hands to your front, gathering the fabric in his fingers and pulling it up, his knuckles lightly grazing your bare breasts. You don't react.

Neither does he.

He carefully pins your shirt back into place, adjusting the neck so it's a little loose. He doesn't move, so you speak up. "All done?"

Nothing. You feel his fingers card through your curls gently, tugging slightly. Maybe reminiscing how it felt in his hand when he kissed you in his garden for the first time. It had been just about to rain that day, too…and it did. It poured like a motherfucker. His fingers stop, instead ghosting over the slope of your neck and along the naked skin of your uninjured shoulder. He shifts behind you, and you feel his hand drop from your skin, instead feeling his forehead pressed against your body. His hair tickles, and you sigh.

"What are you doing, Seungkwan?" Your voice is gentle, it's tired. It's confused, as he breathes against you, his arms circling your torso and pulling you closer to him. Your back hits his chest, and you feel his warm lips caress your skin, heat surging your cheeks as he presses them into you. Once, twice, three times.

"I'm sorry."

You tense, his hands clutching the cloth of your shirt for dear life. "What?"

He rests his chin on your shoulder, peering up at you with the most sorrowful eyes you'd ever seen on a man, much less a god. They're glazed with unshed tears. "I'm sorry."

Here he was. The same god who insisted he'd never admit to anything, any wrong doings, especially not to a mortal. The same god who looked down on you for being so irrevocably human, the same god who watched as you did the most mundane things and wondered aloud if you needed to do those things – and insisted they were weird to him.

"You're…sorry." You repeat, and he nods slowly.

"I've been horrible to you. From the beginning, I was cold and I was indifferent and I should've welcomed you with open arms because that is what a just god would do." His voice is shaky, "I don't want to make you feel like…you're not important to me. You're so important to me and I don't want to live a life where I know I can't find my way back to you, where I have to look for you in every person I try to fill the void shaped by you."

You're silent, and he takes it as a sign to keep going.

"I need to wake up in the mornings not knowing where I start and where you end. I need to know you're not gone from my life forever if I ever wake up alone, but somewhere in this place I call home, a place I need you to call home."

A singular tear rolls down his cheek, meeting your shoulder as you keep staring.

"I need you. I'm sorry I haven't been making it seem that way, I'm sorry I lied about it. I'm sorry that I couldn't admit that I was afraid I wouldn't be enough for you. I feared that your prophecies would ring with truth and you'd leave me behind." He confesses this all in nothing higher than a whisper, tears continuing to roll down his face as he presses his cheek to your skin. You feel your chest ache something awful, before looking away. "I told Jeonghan I'd leave for Lydia in the morning. I'm going to be staying with Wonwoo." You lie easily when you're not facing him, but the weight of it all hangs heavy on your shoulders as he peers over you. "You're leaving?" The silence is deafening as you nod your head, moving away slightly from his hold. His hands fall flat against his thighs, fingers squeezing them as though to ground himself. He shifts behind you, a soft apology tumbling from his lips as he moves to climb off your bed – but you place your hand on his knee, instinctively. You sigh, patting it gently as you twist to look at him. "I'd rather a nice goodbye, Seungkwan. I don't want you to be…this. Sad, I assume." "Then don't leave." He whispers, his hands reaching for your waist. He caresses the sliver of skin softly, "Don't leave me here to miss you." "You left me, first." You shake your head, but his hands only grip onto you tighter. "And I want to prove that I deserve you, that I need you to stay. Please, please don't go." "I don't know if I can trust you to do that, Seungkwan. You…I…" You trail off as he nudges you with his nose, his lips just barely brushing the shell of your ear. 

"I know I don't deserve it, I don't deserve a chance to show you that I am deeply, irrevocably in love with you. I am truly just a man at your disposal. Please don't leave me, not now. Not ever." Your cheeks burn as he presses a chaste kiss to the lobe of your ear. His fingertips move to brush the tops of your knees, exposed by the way your skirt bunches around your thighs. You push down a shiver as he palms at your skin. "I can't get you out of my mind. Every waking moment I have is consumed by you, it's killing me inside. I can't sleep without you in my bed, I don't feel full if we're not eating together. I don't feel satisfied." "That only proves that you're a man. Because you're selfish, to the depth of you. You're a selfish, careless man who hurts people who love you." Your voice is thick with tears, an accusatory finger to his chest as you turn to face him fully. He smiles sadly, before nodding as his hand floats to tuck a stray curl behind your ear. 

"I am. I'm so insanely selfish and I only want you. I could go the rest of my life without my wisdom, my wealth, anything I could ever conjure up with all the words I know." He sighs, his knuckles pinching the fat of your cheek gently. You frown, pushing his hand away, only for his fingers to interlace with yours and pull your hand to his chest. "But you? Angel." You huff, your nose burning as you swallow your tears. "You don't get to just apologize and then we move on, Seungkwan. That's not how that works, that's not life." "Isn't it? Should I grovel at your feet? I'll do it. I'll do anything you ask of me, if it means you stay." He holds your hand tightly, rings digging into your skin as he scans your face. "I miss you, Y/N."

You close your eyes, a soft sob escaping your throat as he pulls your face to his chest. "I'm sorry, my angel. I know I've hurt you. I will never forgive myself if I let you out of my life knowing you don't see yourself how I do." You cry softly into the soft material of his chiton, his voice hushed as he rains gentle praises over the crown of your head, his lips pressing kisses gently against it. His fingers tangle in your hair, carefully undoing the knots like the day you arrived, his fingernails scraping at your skin with precision. You feel his thumb pad at your under eye, pushing your face back to press a kiss to your forehead.

"Let me prove myself to you. You can leave, if I'm not enough. I won't stop you, then and only then." His eyes hold hope as they meet yours, a shaky sigh from your lips as you look away. "What if you're not?" "Then I'll suffer. I'll suffer for the rest of eternity and I'll deal with it, I've made this bed. I'll lay in it." He holds your face carefully, before you stand from his hold. His hands fall to your hips, eyes looking up at you expectantly as you nibble on your lip. "What made you change your mind?"

He doesn't respond, only pushing you back slightly to stand before you. His hands squeeze you with anxiety, "Kissing you for the first time made me feel like I was on fire. It took everything in me not to give myself to you entirely that night. I can't lose control like that, it's terrifying." "Show me. Show me how much you care." You murmur, your fingers clutch at his shirt, "Trust me, Seungkwan." His lips are on yours before another word can slip out. It's messy, it's desperate, it screams I missed you. His arms move to embrace you fully, pulling your body to his as one of his hands snakes up to the nape of your neck. Clashes of teeth and tongue as he spins the two of you around, your knees hitting the edge of the bed as he pushes you back onto it. You peer up at him, watching the way his eyes take you in slowly.

"You're so beautiful." He murmurs, sinking to his knees on the floor. You feel his hands wrap around your ankles, and you brace yourself for him to pull you towards him – only to feel his lips pepper chaste kisses to the skin of your foot. You glance down at him, his eyes closed as he trails his lips and tongue up your calf, sinking his teeth into the soft muscle as you jerk. "Hated seeing his hands all over you. I'm still not over that." "That was over a week ago." You remind him with a soft breath, earning a scoff. "Should've never touched you in the first place. I'll fix it." He shrugs, continuing his ministrations down your plush thighs, nipping and licking with precision as your body jolts against him. He rests his cheek against your inner thigh, arms pulling you closer to his face. "Can't believe I went without you for so long. I'm sorry, my angel." He speaks to himself, bunching your skirt at your hips when you sheepishly reach for the corner, untugging it from its tucked place and tossing it over the side of the bed. 

Your thighs are spread before him, your cunt glistening with your arousal as he sighs shakily, inhaling deeply with a chaste kiss to your clit. It's almost torture, how his tongue fluidly glides through your folds like he was made to please you, to devour you in one go and enjoy it so lavishly. His eyes remain closed as he holds your hips to his face, sucking languidly at your clit as you bite back your moans, your hand holding onto his hair. 

"Let me hear you, baby. Wanna hear you." He whines, almost unable to detach himself from your sloppy cunt to speak. It's muffled as you pull on his hair, a moan from his throat vibrating against you making it all the more stimulating for your poor mind. 

"Missed you. Missed you so fucking much, my gorgeous girl." He keeps talking into your skin, lips coated in your slick as he buries his tongue impossibly deeper, rings digging into the supple flesh of your ass as you cant against his mouth, chasing the feeling of the end.

Your legs threaten to snap shut around his head as you sob out his name quietly, his hand finding yours and squeezing it as your orgasm seeps through you, coating his lips and tongue messily. "That's it, angel. Fuck, look at that, hm? So pretty for me. Just for me." "S'too m-much–" You gasp as your hips betray you, chasing after his tongue as he smiles into your skin. "Oh, but there's so much more to love, angel. You'll let me, right? You'll let me show you how much I love you, won't you?" "W-want you inside," You pout as he hovers over you, nimble fingers pulling at the pins holding your top shut. "We'll get there, I promise. I just want to kiss you right now." He pulls at the fabric, the white wrapping sheet stark against your skin as he gently removes the top you've wrapped around yourself.

"Kiss you…bite you…worship you. All for me, my girl. My angel." Seungkwan's voice is hushed against your stomach, his teeth biting at any skin you'll allow. Red marks bloom almost instantly as he whispers sweet nothings, his hands carefully holding you hostage against his warm body. "Seungkwan." You groan impatiently, feeling the rut of his hips between yours, a choked moan from his throat as his lips trail up your chest, tongue darting out to land a teasing lick to your pebbled nipple.

"Seungkwan." You sigh, his hand now pinning your unwrapped arm above your head. His tongue laps at your chest like a man starved, your head now nestled between the pillows. You can't move from his grasp, only squirming beneath him before wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him flush against your core. "Fuck me already." You wrestle your arm out of his grip, interlacing your fingers as his nose brushes yours.

"I'm nervous." He admits quietly, his eyes scouring your face for any chance of laughter. Something to humiliate him with, something to dangle over his head. Your cheeks flush softly, running your fingers through his hair as you pull him down for a kiss. "Let me help you." "Y/N–" "Please. Trust me." Your lips hardly disconnect from his, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you use your weight to flip him onto his back. He sighs as your lips drag down his jaw, eyes fluttering shut as you tug his earlobe through your teeth.

"Always so tense, hm? Just let go." You murmur, feeling his cock brush against your core. You zero in on his skin, carefully tugging his shirt over his head and reconnecting your lips. Your tongue slips through his lips, licking at his own as his hands hold your hips tightly, scared to let you go. You sigh against his lips as your hips begin to rut against him, feeling his jaw slack at the friction. "Don't worry about anything. I've got you, I promise."

He only nods in response, your hand reaching down to palm him through his pants. "Don't tease me, please." He shudders at your touch, his hips bucking into the warmth of your hand as you coo at him. "I won't, gotta get these off."

You tug his pants down quickly, his leaking cock painfully hard in your hand. He whimpers against you, eyes screwed shut as you press your thumb against his tip lightly, a gasp of please falling from his bitten lips. You throw his pants over the edge of the bed, quickly readjusting yourself over his lap as his hands find your thighs.

"Be gentle." He mumbles, tears collecting at the corners of his eyes as he remains vulnerable, your hands stroking his face softly as you kiss his nose. "I'll take good care of you, okay? We've got the rest of our lives." If you feel the jolt in his chest at your words, you say nothing. You only rock against his hard length carefully, slowly sinking down. You stop as his hands squeeze your thighs with vigor, choked whimpers from his throat as you carefully grind into his lap. "Good?" "S-so good, angel. Fuck," A few tears spill from his eyes, your lips quickly kissing them away as you sink further down, the muscled flesh of his thighs flat against your ass. "Want you to see me, Kwannie. Please." You kiss around his face, his eyes peeling open to reveal absolute floodgates of adoration.

"I love you. Please, please don't leave me." He sobs softly, making you smile against his skin. "Shh. Let me show you, yeah?" You carefully begin a rhythm, his cock stretching you just right, dragging perfectly against your gummy walls. Your noises are caught in your throat, mutters of you feel so good, oh my God…from your lips making his fingers grab at your hips tightly. His eyes are glued to your face, the way your lip is caught between your teeth as you try to hold back. Your fingers are digging into his shoulders as you feel his hands move to your breasts, carefully rolling your nipples through the pads of his fingers as you whimper.

"So beautiful." You call softly, entranced at the movement of your hips and the warmth of his hands on you, his own sight lost at the feeling of you so tight and wet and all for him. "Wanted you for so long, angel. Can never get you off my mind." He whines at your quickening movements, your hands holding his against your chest as your soft sounds fill his ears.

"Want you forever." You whisper, clenching around his length at the guttural moan from his lips. He flushes in embarrassment as you lean to speak in his ear, the wet sounds between you only making everything feel heavier. "Want you only, Seungkwan. Forever."

"I'll be better. I promise, angel, I'll be the best man I can." He nods frantically as you clench around him, a shaky moan from your lips as his thumb snakes between your legs, tracing circles onto your clit as your thighs tremble. "Want you all to myself, please. Please let me have you." You nod nervously, your fingers shaking as you sigh, your orgasm building quickly in your lower belly. "I'll give you everything, for you in return. Promise me. Tell me you're mine just as I am yours." "I promise, angel." He ruts his hips up into yours, matching your pace gently as he brings your face lower, your lips brushing barely as he speaks. "For as long as I live, I promise I'll be nothing but yours. My dying days, my worst moments, I'm yours."

Your lips connect messily, the kiss nothing but bumping of teeth as you come undone around him with a low whine, feeling his skin stick to yours. The flutter of your walls is overwhelming him, high-pitched whimpers from his throat, "B-Baby–" "I know, I know. Please, make me yours." You sob against his lips, your hips desperately canting against his as his cries hit your ears, feeling his cock twitch inside you before he finally lets go. He shudders, pulling you impossibly closer in a bruising kiss.

His hand loosely circles your neck as he holds you close, lips moving in sloppy tandem with yours as he lazily thrusts into you through his orgasm. Ignoring your soft cries of overstimulation, only whispering be mine, please against your spit-covered lips as you shake slightly in his arms.

You force yourself away from him on trembling arms, your thighs locking his hips down as he chases after your mouth. You muster a stern look, your eyes examining the vulnerable god before you — with parted splotchy lips and cheeks, teary eyes glazed over with post-orgasm sleepiness. Brows scrunched at the middle, your thumb instinctively reaching to pad out the wrinkle.

“You think way too much.” You mutter, watching his eyes go wide as his mouth begins to open to speak. You place your hand over his lips, sighing before you speak. “You think entirely too much for one person. You’re a selfish brat, you’re carrying way too much on your shoulders. You can’t save everyone, Seungkwan. Who saves you, huh?”

He doesn’t respond, only blinking up at you quietly. You give him a pointed look, making him look at your chest in defeat. His brows raise, before looking back at your eyes. “You do.”

It’s muffled, but earns a tired laugh from you anyway. “You know I can’t, right? I’m not like you.”

He tugs your hand away from his face, voice hoarse as he tries to sit up gently. He only makes it to his elbows, his fingertips brushing your knees innocently. “Goddess or not, the power you have over me is unfathomable.”

“Big words already? Already back in your head, huh?” You teasingly tap his temple, and he huffs embarrassedly. “You drive me fucking crazy, alright? Up the wall insane. Is that good enough?”

You only smile down at him, your hand cupping his face gently as you pinch his cheek. “What am I going to do with you, hm?”

“Love me.” He blurts. “Love me until you can’t anymore. Please, have that mercy upon me.”

“It won’t be easy. This…you and me.” You admit, sighing as your hands splayed across his chest. “You have to give me all of you, not just what you deem fit for my consumption. I’m a mortal, I’m not weak or dazed or whatever you may think of me. I don't care about what you are, god or mortal.”

“I don’t think that of you at all, angel.” He shakes his head quickly, but you just run your hand through his hair to stop him. "We'll get there, okay? I just…I don't know how to do this. The relationship thing, I've spent so long being a pain in Jeonghan's ass."

You earn a snort from him, his fingers tracing light circles into your knee as he shrugs in defeat. "I don't, either. There's a lot of things I don't know how to do, but I'm not worried if I'm learning next to you." He speaks softly, and you roll your eyes. "You're a sap." "You'll stay, right?" His eyes search your face with care, heart picking up its gentle pace in his chest as you smile down at him, pressing your lips to his forehead with a sigh. "Wouldn't dream of leaving."

The two of you jump at the sound of thunder rumbling, your hand flying to your chest as the shutters flew open. Seungkwan steadies you atop him, wincing at the reminder that he'd still sheathed inside you. He doesn't make an effort to move you off, only mumbling. "We're sticky." You snort, "Wanna get stickier?"

EPILOGUE.

Opening his heart to you only opened an unlimited number of doors for Seungkwan.

He noticed more about you — particularly, the way you loved him. Your fingers easily picked the cherry tomatoes off his pieces of focaccia before handing it over, your hands bared the heat of his hot tea as you stirred it. You whispered dirty words in his ears to fluster him, your hands snaking around his body without hesitation. Every surface in your shared home was christened with you in whatever position imaginable, crumbled whines of how much you loved him falling from your lips as he worked tirelessly to please you.

He noticed the way you’d silently take the lead if something became too overwhelming for him, something he’d yet to figure out on his own. You’d take shears from his hands in the garden, you’d put a pretty spring of lavender over his ear at the slightest sound of a discouraged grunt. You’d kiss his temple, his cheek, his nose, lips with such gentle fervor, he’d feel himself melt away.

Much like he is in this moment, seeing you holding a skewer with candied orange slices. Your lips are slightly coated in sugar crystals, your hand growing weak from gripping the thin stick so tightly. He walks over silently, his fingers prying it from your grasp as you stop talking to Mingyu to acknowledge him with a gentle smile.

“I’ve got it.”

He only takes the skewer, rolling his eyes. “I’ve got you. Just let me.”

“This is a beautiful look on you, Seungkwan. So young and in love.” Mingyu’s voice is full of teasing, earning a scowl from the younger god — one that gets pinched away by your fingers on his cheek. “Stop that.”

Seungkwan’s eyes fall to you, your relaxed shoulders surrounded by everyone you’ve only ever heard of — and stories you’ve only told, never known. You’re covered by the tapestry you’d made for him, the large owl on display across your back as a matching blue hood covers your hair carefully. You’d been far too proud of it to only display it in the temple — and you’d been right to do so, you’d only received compliments since, from gods and mortals alike.

Your posture only proved how little everyone's power affected you. You cared nothing of their advantages, their own hubris, nothing – you spoke to everyone the same way. You smiled mischievously, you nibbled on the inside of your cheek when deep in thought. You nodded along to deeper stories of woe and war, and held your wine glass close to your chest when offered more.

Your eyes would look for him in the crowds of gods, looking for the bright green wreath he donned regularly amongst his peers. He'd meet them every so often, a soft look of concern on his face as you simply smiled and turned back to your conversation. You'd find him for comfort, for strength, for someone to hold your drink if your wrist got tired. You stood in front of everyone with a brave smile, but he knew that deep down, you'd be once more leaving everything you'd known life to be – this time, for him. To be by his side, as an eternal being he can love and worship and tend to. A goddess of his very own, one that no one has to understand but him – and he selfishly hopes no one ever does decipher the intricate ways of your heart, the weaves of your fingers and stories of your mind.

So sure, it might not be the best thing ever. It might be an admittance of imperfection, it might be lack of common sense for a god so skilled to fall straight into the sticky web of a lying, deceiving mortal. A mortal who has pushed and pulled him back and forth, a mortal who has shown him pure and unadulterated appreciation despite knowing that their past is one of the rockiest starts to a love story ever possibly written. A mortal who is now knelt before his fellow gods, Seungcheol's hand hovering over your head as he gently allows yet another disturbance of natural order – yet another mortal, who fell for a god, and a god who lost his first fight to love.

"Hey." You murmur, weaving through a few people to reach him. He looks up, eyes wide as you untuck your hair from the cloak. In your hand is the singular crown of marigolds Seungcheol had given you, something that Seungkwan brought forth when you made the trip to see the god of the sky. Seungcheol welcomed you into his home with a warm smile, giving Seungkwan a wink as the two of you left everyone in awe.

"Hey, you." He nods, setting down his glass of wine on the bar. Your candied orange is still in his other hand, and you happily take it back, sinking your teeth into the crumbly sugar. "Drinking all by yourself, handsome?" "You don't have to keep flirting with me, you know. I'm already a mess." He rolls his eyes, but you only coo at the tinge of pink in his ears. "But I do, my love. It keeps our love alive." You gesture methodically to the air around you, making him laugh.

"How are you feeling? I don't know the mortal-to-goddess route." He snakes his arms around your waist, earning a whistle from Mingyu across the room. He childishly sticks his tongue out at him, making you smile. "Mmh. I feel the same, I think. Just a little bit of pressure." "Comes with the job, I fear." He nods, plucking the marigold crown from your fingers. "You need to wear this, pretty." He jostles it gently, blooming the petals further with his fingertips. You bow your head slightly, and he places it carefully atop your hair.

"I love you." He murmurs, tucking a loose strand of your hair over your ear. You only smile in return, pressing a sugary kiss to the side of his lips. "As endlessly as I love you?" "Probably more. I would die without you." He nods quickly, pressing his lips to your cheek. "Can't have that, can we?"

So much for unforgiven.

haologram © 2024 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[hanasnx]

this might be kind of an obvious assumption but i’ve always pictured zuko (aged up or in his fire lord arc) to be very into praise. now this could work in a soft dom kinda way or maybe even a subby way but personally i like the idea of a praise kink!soft dom zuko idk

MINORS DNI 18+

“There you go. That’s it.” ZUKO croons, stroking your hair back with his hand. Loving and tender, he eases you into taking him, the sensation of your hole ever so gradually opening up around him causes his breath to hitch in his throat. “You’re doing well, how does it feel?” Oddly formal, you still find him endearing, scoffing into a tired smile. Foreplay was tumultuous as usual, a wrestle match of eager tongues and reaching limbs, pinning each other and by the time he’s reintroducing his cock to your sex you’re already spent from the orgasms leading up to it.

“Good, my lord, feels so good.” The affectionate petname plays coyly off your grinning lips, and he tsks.

“Enough of that. You know what I want to hear.” he reiterates, calling back to a time in which he scolded you for addressing him as your superior.

“Zuko,” you breathe, and he sighs at the sweet sound, capitalizing on the momentum by sinking in to the hilt. You gasp at the sensation of being filled, your soft tissue already overstimulated from how long he’d gone down on it prior to this.

“Yes,” he encourages in a grateful exhale, bowing his head to tuck between yours and your shoulder. His hands clutch onto you, pressing you as close to him as possible, until your lungs have little room to inflate. “Say it again.” he whispers.

“Oh, Zuko,” you purr, pleasure running away with you. Fire ignites within him as his name is chanted, using it as drive to rut into you. Back and forth, the velvety skin of his cock drags across your insides that send tingles like electricity up your spine. His lips brush your collarbone every time he bottoms out, a new layer of sweat permeates both of you, mixing the salt together as his pace quickens.

“Very good. Please—continue.” The subtle beg spurs you on, and his name on your lips grows in volume and haste as he matches your energy, fucking into you as you encourage him. The son of the Fire Nation had gone by many names, especially in enemy territory under disguise. His identity was concealed for his safety, and now you may speak it freely. Call him by his name.

[bi-writes]

ex-tf141!mercenary!fem!reader x ex-husband!simon because there's nothing hotter than being covered in blood and debating whether or not to kill him or fuck him (18+) ⚠️🔞

cw: reader is curvy (deal with it), mature language and content, suggestive language and content, dramatization + graphic depictions of murder + violence, criticizes military service, blood kink, size kink (simon's huge ok), pet names (luv, sweetheart, baby, honey), mw3 spoilers, reader is unhinged and unapologetic about it, dark content ahead, unprotected piv, cumplay, (can this also be considered a throuple fic? maybe...)

this isn't her. he doesn't recognize her. she doesn't fight the way he remembers, she doesn't look like she used to.

she wears all black. the black cargo pants are tight around her perfect thighs, and the way they cinch around her waist makes his mouth water. her vest covers her torso, but he has vivid memories of ripping an identical one off of her, ripping the fabric of her shirt so he could bury his mouth between her tits.

when she used to be his. when she used to be a good girl.

he watches, frozen, as she shows off her newfound ruthlessness. she fires her weapon at one man's knees, bringing him to the ground. he feels sick when she kicks him onto his back, getting on top of him, and uses her tactical knife and shoves it into the softness of his neck. she leans over him, splatters of blood freckled across her face, and she watches the life leave his eyes.

she doesn't get up until he stops twitching.

he doesn't remember this. when she used to watch his six, he remembers having to hold her close at night, quieting her cries. he remembers the conversations they used to have, where she used to tell him that whenever she closes her eyes, she sees every person she ever killed.

the justification of murder behind the patches she wore on her vest had never been enough to quiet her nightmares. she was always so soft-hearted. she was always too good, too considerate, too kind. it was something her superiors always wanted to rip away from her; it was something simon fought hard to keep.

he had lost his humanity, but she had not, and he remembers smoothing his hand over her chest and across her heart, telling himself that he would never let it go, never let her lose it.

it is gone. he knows it--he knows it because she doesn't just kill her opponents, she tortures them. she aims for vulnerable places, and then she kills them angrily. she likes to hear them scream. she watches them cry. she wipes the blood of her enemies on her thigh, and then she gets up and does it all over again, in different ways, in heinous ways. she's terrifying, and she's laughing, and there is nothing behind those fucking eyes.

he holds her in his sight. he adjusts the scope, gripping the rifle tighter, and suddenly it feels too heavy in his hands. he can see her in it, and he watches in horror.

he knows his orders. permission to kill on sight, those are his orders--mercenaries had gotten the same intel as them, but they are not here to destroy the biochemical weapons. they are here to steal them.

he can kill her right now. he has her, right where he wants her, and even from this far away, he knows he won't miss.

when she's finally alone, she stands, and she looks up, turning in a slow circle. his heart squeezes--she knows he's here. she holds up a hand, four fingers held up. he reaches up to his radio and turns the knob to the right channel. it crackles, and then he hears her voice.

"hey, baby," you coo, and he sees you smile, and it's ugly, and he hates it. "you miss me that much that you gotta follow me around at work?"

"'f y'know wot's good for you, you'll pack up your shit and leave."

you tsk, spinning the knife around in your hand before sticking it back into your boot. you wipe the sweat from your forehead, and blood smears along your brow.

"awww, teddy bear, don't be that way," you pout. "how about you come down here?" you grin wide, turning just his way, giggling when you see him perched for overwatch. "hmm? you're just cranky, baby...need me to help you relax..."

"you're right fuckin' mad," he spits, and you reach down at the man beneath you, snatching his rifle off his back and making sure it's loaded. "and i'm gonna fuckin' kill you."

you wink up at him.

"yeah? so take the shot, honey," you challenge. the smirk that blooms on your face infuriates him. he hates you. but then you turn around and keep walking, knowing that he won't shoot, and his gaze follows the sway of your hips. instead of thinking about your brains splattered against gravel, he thinks about when he used to bend you over his bed in the barracks and eat your pussy from behind you--when he used to get on his knees and fuck you with his tongue and make you cum into his mouth.

when you disappear from his view, you laugh over comms. "you're pathetic, simon," your murmur. "could never trust you to get the fucking job done."

he remembers when you left. johnny had left a scar on you--an angry one, one that refused to heal. and while simon was equally as buried in his grief, he always felt just a little better when he was kissing you, holding you, feeling the warmth of you, knowing you were alive.

"you didn't love him. not like i did--" you snap, continuing to pack.

"are you fuckin' mad?! do y'hear yourself talk?! wot the fuck do you know about me and johnny?!"

"then how are you not angry?!" you scream. "how are still standing there, so fucking normal, how are you so fucking calm?!"

"sweetheart--"

"don't fucking touch me," you bite. "you don't get it--" angry tears flow easily down your face. "--you didn't love him the same."

"i did--" he grips your face, making you look at him. "i loved him like i love you, don't say that. don't fucking say that, don't you dare pretend you're the only one that feels anything--"

you rip his hands off of you, narrowing your eyes, and he does not recognize you. this is not you.

"y-you're a liar," you whisper. "you're a fucking liar. and you make me sick."

ghost steps over the bodies that you left behind. it is a massacre of men that you leave at your feet. slit throats, bullets in knees, in stomachs, little finishers you leave between their legs. you are not a fan of men--he knows this because of how hard it had been to get close to you. how difficult it had been to even so much as touch your arm, your face--to get you into his bed, to marry you in secret and fuck you spineless. the only easy thing that had ever happened to you was the way johnny fell right into step with you.

and the hardest thing that he had ever done was fucking die.

when he finds the trunk of biochemical vials, you are not there. he has found it first, and he bends down to inspect them, closing the lid and securing them inside before moving his hand up to press on the button of his comms to alert his team.

"uh uh uh," a low voice warns. "take your hand off the radio, sweetheart."

he moves, but the bloodied tip of a tactical knife is sharp against his throat, and he swallows hard. he calls your name, and you just giggle. this is a game to you. he lowers his hand, and you reach down, grabbing his rifle and tossing it. you also unholstered his handgun and the throwing knives from his boot, throwing them behind you.

"mmm..." you smooth a hand down his back. "you're as hot as the day i met you, baby..."

ghost grunts as you grip one side of his ass, and you grip his shoulder tight, kicking him just right so he was kneeling on both knees now. you lean over him and plant a warm, wet kiss to the jaw of his mask, moving so you were standing in front of him now. you kick the trunk of vials to the side, looking down at him, digging the sharp edge of the blade harder against his neck.

"look at you..." you hum, licking your bottom lip. "you're still so big, teddy bear..." he hisses when you lean over, cupping him through his pants. your warm hand squeeze the length of him, and you whine when you feel how hard he is, how much he still feels for you. he glares at you under that plastic, terrifying mask, but your panties are soaking. "so fucking hard for me, too...you miss me, baby?"

he leans over, into the blade, growling.

"'f you leave now, you can still take your life with ya."

you pucker your lips, and he snarls. your face is not one he knows--you have drying blood along your cheeks, smears of it along the softness of your neck. you have blood and dirt under your fingernails, and there is fire in your eyes, and you are not the good girl he fell in love with, but you look like her, and it scares him.

"awww, baby, if i thought you would kill me, you would be dead--" you lean forward and lick along his hard jaw, tasting the salt and sweat of his mask. "...right along your other boys. don't lie to me. it's not a good look for you."

he bites, and you laugh, and then you nod your head.

"sit down," you demand, and he sits. he is big, and his gear is heavy, and he sits with a grunt, and you climb over him, into his lap. you reach down, your eyes on his, and you unzip his cargo pants, your hand slipping under and pulling his cock out, and you smile when it stands hard and heavy. "oh, baby...you want this, don't you?"

you lean in, kissing him through the mask, sucking along the fabric and whining.

"you want this, don't you? you still want me? you still love me?"

"fuckin' hell--"

"you wanna fuck me, teddy bear?" you spit into the palm of your hand, reaching down and smoothing your wet hand over the red tip of him. "you're so big...as big as i remember..." you whimper. "say you wanna fuck me, simon--" fuck, you're using his name, "--say you want me."

against your lips, you feel him whisper yes--fuck--yes, luv--and you can't help it. you can't help yourself.

he's so warm and big. you hold onto his shoulders, still gripping the bloody knife, and you sink down on him. it's easy though, because you're soaking, and even though you're so fucking tight, you suck him in, right until your clit is grinding against the little hairs at the base of his cock and you're bouncing in his lap.

simon is weak. he's weak, and he knows it, because he loves you, and your pussy is so tight, and your moans are music, and fucking you is the only thing he truly understands, the only thing that still makes sense.

you smooth your hands along the back of his neck, and when you whimper and moan, simon thinks he sees you. his good girl, his pretty little wife, the soft girl that he loves, the one crying as she rides his cock because he's hitting all the gooey, pretty places inside of her that make her so fucking wet. he grips your ass tight, guiding you up and down, fucking up into you as he feels his stomach turn and his balls tighten.

"simon--" you cry, and he nods his head, cradling you to his chest, his head tilted back as he looks up at you. there is blood on your skin and a knife digging into his back, but you're saying his name, and his heart aches, and your pussy is so good-- "gonna come--gonna come--"

"yeah--" he growls, and you push up his mask, lick into his mouth, kiss him sloppy and hard and desperate. "fuck--fuck, yeah--"

he takes off his glove to touch you, two big fingers on your clit as you fuck him desperately. when you come, you soak his cock, and when you tighten, he comes, too, rolling his hips as he spills out of your tight hole and onto your thighs, onto his.

it feels so good. it feels so good to be full of him, to feel him deep, and you smooth your hands down your stomach, feeling him there, stretching you so wide with his come on your thighs, and when he pulls out, you giggle when he gathers the slick onto his fingers and feeds it to you.

you suck his fingers, tasting him, and you whine, looking right into his dark eyes. your heart hurts for a moment--but only a moment. when he pulls his fingers from your mouth, your eyes flicker.

because he still wears his fucking wedding ring.

at the sight of it, you grip your knife tight, and you sink it right into his stomach.

he is laying there in a pool of blood when you're dressed, when the trunk of vials is secure for you to take. you lean over him, pressing on the button of his radio, and you call for medevac to his team, and then you rip the radio in two.

you cup his cheeks, kissing him softly over the mask, and you smooth a finger down his cheek.

"don't pull the knife out, baby, or you'll bleed out," you coo. you tilt your head to the side, knowing you only have a few second window to leave, and you smile down at him.

"until next time, simon."

when you go, you take a piece of him with you.

and fuck--fuck you. because he wants it back.

[jymwahuwu]

anon who got beaten by covid coming through with more Capitano thoughts.. (no thirsts..yet. I need to coach myself with scenario building..Capitano talks you through every climax. There. That is the most I can write 😭)

Capitano tried to be patient, he truly tried. But he only sighs softly when communication cannot work but force must.

He is a very broad man and it's quite easy for you to spot his looming shadow over you when you had fallen onto the ground, having tried to escape the cabin with only the moonlight as your guide.

"S- Sir.." You look up, tears welled up in your eyes as you try your best to calm your racing heart. You've seen how he has dealt with..most unsavory soldiers. What will he do to you? A lone soldier who has deserted their post?

The man doesn't say anything for a moment, the darkness of his helmet staring holes into you.

"Have I done wrong with you?" He finally speaks, crouching down to speak with you. Despite him trying to match your height..it only makes it more threatening. "I don't believe.. I've mistreated you?"

He's genuinely confused, he can't..register the fact that he's feared by a soldier that he has treated so gently and nicely. "I apologize if I have harmed you.." He tried to make amends anyways.

But then you go and ruin it by trying to run..tsk, tsk, and of course, he only needs to grab your wrist and you're completely immobile. You are a deserted soldier..and unfortunately it seems like you must treat you as the soldier you are.

Even if he wishes you were more than just a soldier.

Bingo. All he has to do is make your punishment..become his bride. He doesn't like phrasing it as a punishment but..perhaps a training session would be better?

You're still training..just..training to be his wife. (Also training to take his very impressive size that he always sighs as he coaxes you into taking every inch of..)

cw: dub-con, forced marriage, yandere, size kink, female reader

Thank you for sending me a story, I really enjoyed it😽💖 You posted it in two parts, and I replied to both here!! (part 1 of the story is here)

Like gentle giant and skittish darling trope! Frightened, awkward you.

Be informed that you have been chosen as a warrior, and that you have given it your all…but, maybe you don't have the talent here. The combat movements are a bit clunky and don't flow smoothly. The vision tied around your waist shines with the light of the elements, but your skills… (such as flowing out a small amount of water, like a spring spring, or just condensing some cheap gems, or electricity like a kitten claws, etc…). Those skills are just not suitable for fighting, you know? Will you use gentleness against Heavenly Principles, against enemies?

After training, failure and frustration have overwhelmed you, and the physical pain and exhaustion cannot be ignored. Not to mention that Capitano in his cape looks down at you like an unshakable mountain. You rubbed your cheek against his palm and couldn't help biting your lip, shedding tears like a little kitten. He pats your head gently and tells you how to improve your movements and use elemental powers. Easier said than done. You nodded, but there was still no way to improve next time.

He's not biased, really. In Capitano's eyes, everyone can fight, but you… may be able to put your talents in other areas, such as cooking and knitting. Your elements are just as gentle as yours. Maybe you can keep that water and food warm. His confession to you is formal and prepared. He asks you in serious terms if you can marry him and spend the rest of your life together.

You… look terrified, hyperventilating from shock. "Me-me?" You pointed at yourself, shaking. Captain wants to marry you? That first of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers? He was just joking, right? You refused and distanced yourself from him like he was a flood.

I like drama🫣😹 so I added some wind and snow. On a moonlit night, you planned an escape, only to fall on the snow and almost be washed away and submerged by the wind and snow. Looking back, I saw that familiar huge figure walking out of the falling snow. He grabbed your wrist a little too roughly, "Sir- Sir?" As always, you looked at him with tears, but fear gnawed at your heart even more.

"You might be dead." There was ice in his voice. He knelt down on one leg and looked down at you. "What are you doing? Did I… hurt you? If you feel that way, then I apologize."

"I-I'm sorry!" You cried, even the tears froze. You know he's right. He is worried about your safety. How is he going to treat you? Will he put you in jail? Capitano carries you in his arms and takes you back to his home. It's there to restore your body temperature and keep you warm. He immerses you in the warm water and towels you off.

If you don't plan an escape, you can still enjoy your options. Since you ran away… you can't return to Fatui, but as his wife stay with him and receive training. Starting from looking directly at his mask, you panicked, but now you can't. You have to look directly into his dark blue eyes, from the depths of your soul. A huge cock stood erect in the middle of his pubic hair and was leaking pre-cum. You stammered, placing your hands on his heated belly as you looked directly at the impressive size of his cock for the first time, "W-What is this? How does this work…!? Can you- can you be a little smaller…"

That's why you need to be trained to accommodate his size. Capitano knew it was unlikely to work the first time. His cock swells against your belly and rubs against your clit, or pushes deeper into you, opening up the tight folds of flesh. The pounding of pulses sends pleasure through your limbs, into your brain as flesh slaps and pops, until the warm cream spurts and rushes into you.

There will be another training next time.

[vhagarys]

The Slayer of Bastards

brother!aemond x sister!reader, brother!aegon x sister!reader, brief jace x reader

summary: After being denied of their birthright to claim you as theirs, you are shipped to Dragonstone to marry Jace Velaryon. Your brothers will have you, no matter the cost.

warnings: canon-typical incest, smut, possessive!dark!aemond, possessive!dark!aegon, manipulation, death, penetrative sex, oral sex, spitting, degradation, slapping, breeding, dumbification, basically aemond and aegon are depraved

MDNI

Their sister was gone.

Aegon and Aemond, your beloved brothers, were denied a betrothal to you, and awoke the next morning to the news of you being shipped over to Dragonstone to marry their nephew Jace Velaryon.

The brothers fumed. As their sister, it was within their birthright to claim you as theirs. Their mother insisted this alliance was far more important than their domestic desires.

Within the hour, the two plotted to bring you home and take your maidenhood so you’d be unfit to wed anyone else but them.

Their lust for their sister was undeniable. Since children, they’ve always harbored a possessive nature towards you. Warding off those who dared to venture too close to you, despite your obliviousness to other men’s advances.

You were so naive, so pure, your brothers knew they had to keep you for themselves.

They waited until the small hours of the night to sneak into the dragonpit, and took Vhagar and Sunfyre to the skies. The brothers were consumed with anger at the prospect that their insolent nephew may have you, that he may corrupt you with his bastard hands.

Their sweet baby sister in the hands of bastards and traitors.

No one was going to stand between you and them.

After fleeing from the Red Keep, they managed to land without being detected, cloaking their dragons within the forests surrounding Dragonstone.

Like shadows in the night, they snuck past the guards asleep at their post and through the halls of the castle.

Silently wandering through their enemies homestead, their ears tuned in at the slightest sound of your voice. Soon, they found you sat in the throne room with Jace.

“You’re lucky you know, Aunt Y/N. You just barely escaped the hands of your monstrous brothers clutches,” Jace proclaimed as he sat across the table from you.

“You will not speak of them in such tone, they may have committed wrong doings in the past but i will not sit here while you berate my closest family. They are my brothers Jace, and your uncles,” you responded with a hint of annoyance in your tone.

Jace scoffs at you, his face unable to hide the offense at your words.

“Do you deny who they are? They are criminals to the throne. They killed my brother and have committed atrocities the gods may never forgive. For you to sit here and defend them shows you are no better then them.”

Your body simmered in rage, fingers digging into your palms in attempt to restrain yourself. Just as you were about to retort Jace’s vile accusations, a voice at the door made you freeze.

“Tsk, thats no way to speak to your betrothed little nephew,” murmured Aemond with a darkness in his eye. Forgoing his eyepatch, the sapphire in his other eye gleamed in the moonlight.

“No go one nephew, please continue this tangent of your love for your uncles,” Aegon quipped with a smirk on his lips.

You swiftly turned towards your brothers, who both locked eyes with you. Time seemed to stop as both of them looked upon you with a longing and something darker you had not yet seen before.

“Gōntan ao miss īlva dōna haedar?” Aegon smiled at you. (did you miss us sweet sister?)

You couldn’t help but feel relief at the sight of your brothers here, the betrothal to Jace made without your consent.

You always knew how much your brothers loved you. They would always hold your hand and accompany you through the castle, let you sit on their lap and hold you when you were needed comfort.

Anything you required, your brothers were there at the drop of a hat.

You wished you didn’t have to leave them and be married off to another family. The idea of being away from your brothers made you sick with unease. After all, they promised they would always protect you.

Jace fumed at the sight of your brothers. He practically jumped out of his chair to stand in front of you, as if to shield you from them.

“How in the seven hells did you manage to get in here undetected? You really have such little regards for your own lives? Tell me why i shouldn’t draw my sword and slit your throats where you stand.”

Aemond hummed, “I’m afraid dear nephew, that would make you a kinslayer as much as i, you wouldn’t want that on your conscience hm? I, on the other hand, have already dirtied my hands. What’s a little more bastard blood spilled? I may even enjoy killing you even more than your baby brother,” Aemond grinned darkly.

Aegon chuckled under his breath. You turned to Jace and saw nothing but black in his eyes. As he went to lunge towards your brothers, you grabbed both of his shoulders.

“Stop this! Please, stop tormenting each other. Why must every encounter end in threats and physicality,” you cried out, using all your strength to hold him back, to which he shrugged off and paced toward your older brother.

Aemond stepped behind you and tucked a piece of your silver hair behind your ear. “No need for tears dōna haedar (sweet sister), we won’t let him hurt you. You’re coming home with Aegon and i where you will be rightfully married to us, your own blood.”

Jace laughed as he slowly stepped towards Aegon. “Like hell you will, she is betrothed to me. She’s mine, and i’d do right by her and rid the world of her abominable excuses of brothers.”

Jace proceeded to jab his finger into Aegon’s shoulder, a provocation that you knew would end badly.

“I dare you,” he roughly grabbed the collar of Jace’s tunic, “to utter one more word bastard. I will delight in feeding you to my dragon, a poetic end to your pathetic life, wouldn’t you say? Seeing as your brother became a snack for Vhagar,” he seethed, his anger palpable.

You couldn’t believe the situation unfolding before you. Your heart filled with dread at the inevitability of this encounter. You felt helpless. Chasing any sort of comfort, you leaned into the warmth of your older brother Aemond as he gently wrapped an arm around your hip.

You turned into his body and wept on his shoulder, begging him to put an end to this and take you back home. You knew if you didn’t leave now something awful were to occur.

“Kostilus gūrogon issa lenton lēkia,” you stared up at him with glossy eyes. (please just take me home brother)

‘Hush little one, you’re coming back home with me, i won’t allow anyone to keep you from me. Al sytilībagon naejot īlva, hm? You know we will never allow harm to come to you,” Aemond whispers as his hands held you tight against him. (you belong to us)

Seeing his sister with tears running down her cheeks awoke something primal in Aemond. His mind flashed to the tears he imagined you’d be spilling as he used your throat to pleasure his cock. He pictured you on your knees, laid bare for him, covered in drool as you let him fuck your mouth full of his release. He could almost hear you whine as you leaked your own arousal with his seed on your tongue, opening your mouth for him to spit in and brainlessly swallowing anything he gave to you. like a good girl. their good girl.

Aemond knew this was an inappropriate time to indulge such thoughts, and tried to resist the urge to press his cock against you as you cried on his shoulder.

Jace shoved Aegon off of him with a loud grunt and immediately lunges towards him in an attempt to tackle him to the floor. You couldn’t bear the fighting a moment longer.

You broke away from Aemond and rushed toward the two, grabbing Jace’s arm with your hands.

“Please Jace, we are family and i do not wish to see anyone hurt. I don’t believe any good may come of their matrimony and you know it too. It is best if i return home and seek forgiveness with your mother and Daemon on the morrow. We will leave quietly, please-”

The sting on your cheek throbbed as you stumbled to the ground. Your hand immediately reached up to touch the ugly red splotch on your face. Your body stunned as you looked up to see the disgusted look on Jace’s face.

“They’ve already fucked you, haven’t they? Corrupted you with their seed, stolen your virtue? I can’t stand to look at you. Just wait until the realm hears of you, the Targaryen cocksleeve-”

The sound of metal sliced through the air as Aemond plunged his sword through the middle of Jace’s form.

You went to scream, but Aegon grabbed you and covered your mouth with his hand.

“Shh, shh sweet sister. It’s alright, he won’t hurt you ever again. Your brothers are here, everything is alright,” he delighted in seeing Jace writhing in pain, something he’d hoped would happen for quite some time. What delighted him more though, was the feeling of you pressed up against him.

He’d finished himself countless times to the thought of you completely at his mercy. Holding you down while he pummeled into your soaking cunt. His hands wrapped like a noose around your neck, licking up your tears and swallowing down your screams. Fucking you so violently you’re rendered speechless. Just his pliant, little cocksleeve for him to ravage when he craved release. He knew you would eventually succumb to them, always looking to please her brothers.

“Brother, what are you doing? Why is there something hard poking me?” you breathed out confused, your mind feeling like mush after the overwhelming scene before you.

Unlike his brother, Aegon never possessed much self restraint. He pressed you tighter against his front, rutting his hard cock on you from behind.

“That, my sweet sister, is me showing you how happy i am to have you back. Now tell me, are you happy to see me?” Aegon whispered into your neck as you felt an odd tingling surge through you.

“O-of course i’m happy to see you lekia (brother), but i-“

“I’ll have to see for myself, don’t fight me, relax little one,” Aegon moved your hands away and worked past the layers of your skirts, gently pressing his finger on your clothed cunt.

“Gods, you’re very happy to see your brothers, isn’t that right gevie,” (beautiful) murmured Aegon as he ran his nose up your neck and traced lines up and down your center.

“Tsk, what do we have here,” Aemond removed his sword from Jace’s dying body and slowly stalked over to you, his eyes fixed on his brothers fingers on your cunt.

“Brother, it seems our innocent little sister is more depraved then we thought. Her cunt is weeping after watching you kill our nephew,” Aegon began rubbing small circles on your pearl.

The new heady sensation made your mind short circuit. You let out the most pathetic mewl, and bucked up your hips to chase Aegon’s fingers.

Aemond’s eyes darkened as he watched his sister succumb to the pleasure his brother was giving her.

“i don’t believe this, what happened to my sweet baby sister?” Aemond teased.

“Look how responsive she is, brother. Practically begging us to touch her,” Aegon mused as he continued to tease your cunt.

“Poor thing is leaking all over the floor. Let us see just how wet you are,” Aemond unsheathed his knife and cut through your small clothes, leaving your pink cunt soaking and bare for them.

You whined louder, “P-please stop, it’s too much. I don’t-”

“We can take the pain away baby sister, how does that sound? Need your brothers to help you don’t you, poor girl. What would you do without us?” aegon ripped through the bodice of your dress until your breasts spilled out.

Aemond groaned and reached out to fondle your breasts.

“Gods you were made perfect for us. Can’t wait to fuck you full of my seed”.

In a moment of clarity, the words sunk in and you jolted up, away from your brothers touch.

Your mind began to sober at the depravity you were partaking in, and your hands flew up to cover yourself.

“But we’re brother and sister, this i-is wrong. We mustn’t do this.”

The brothers exchanged a smirk. “Sister, this is exactly what siblings are meant to do, to keep the bloodline pure. You are ours to breed so that you may produce targaryen heirs sweet thing,” Aemond caressed your cheek while Aegon continued his ministrations sucking dark spots into the crevice of your neck.

Aemond took your silence as an invitation to kneel closer to your dripping cunt. He gently blew on it and watched as you clenched around nothing.

You flinched and tried to pull away to no avail.

“You see sister, no one else knows how to pleasure you like we do,” Aegon pulled your hands away and began to grope at your breasts.

You couldn’t help but arch your back as he pinched at your nipples. Your mind began to cloud over again with the intoxicating sensation coursing through your veins.

Aegon groaned into your ear, “You were made to fit our cocks and to take our seed. you were made for us to have, in any way we desire, right brother?”

Unable to hold back from tasting you, Aemond offered a hum before leaning down and licking a fat stripe up your dripping folds, slurping up your essence like a man starved.

Your body twitched and spasmed at the all consuming pleasure. You gasped, chasing the electric feeling your brothers tongue offered you.

“I’ve got you, little girl,” Aegon turned your head toward him and swallowed your cries in a forceful kiss, dominating your mouth with his tongue.

After only a few minutes, you were on the brink of release. Your virgin cunt not familiar with such intense pleasure from someone’s mouth.

Suddenly, Aemond retracted his mouth from you, cursing under his breath and scooping up some of the wetness still leaking from you.

You watched as he reached over you and pushed his fingers into your older brothers mouth. A moan came from aegon as he sucked all of your juices off.

“Fuck” Aegon drawled, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

You couldn’t help but whine in frustration, your brothers leaving you throbbing with need but effectively ignoring you.

They both looked down at you drunken with lust.

“Use your words, sweet girl. what do you want, hm? what’s wrong?” Aegon chuckled at his brothers teasing.

“You really are cruel brother, our sister clearly won’t be satisfied until she’s felt our cocks stretch out that tight cunny,” Aegon began removing his trousers.

Aemond gripped your cheeks with his hand. He examined you, the way your tongue slightly stuck out, your eyes glazed over as you met his gaze.

“Not a single thought in that pretty head of yours is there. Already too drunk on the idea of cock you can’t speak?” Aemond grinned cruelly at you.

You whined his name. he squeezed your cheeks so you lips parted just in time for him to spit into your mouth.

“Show me,” you stuck your tongue out to show the glob of spit. Aemond nodded then commanded, “Swallow it.”

Aegon began to run his cock up and down your folds, hissing at how sensitive he was.

“Did you enjoy that sister?” Aegon slowly circled your entrance with his head, aroused at the scene before him.

You shyly nodded, too embarrassed to meet either of their gazes.

Aemond sighed, “Of course she enjoyed it, you love making your brothers happy right byka līve?” after which Aegon grabbed your face and spit into your mouth. (little whore)

You were overwhelmed by the need to feel your brothers, to please them. “P-put it in please”, you whispered to your older brother.

They both looked at you with a sick fondness, their lovely sister reduced to nothing more then a begging, cock slut.

“Asking so nicely, how can i refuse you gevie,” Aegon slowly pushed in.

The feeling was intense. the stretch of his cock in your virgin hole hurt so much. You could do nothing but cry and wreathe at the painful sensation.

Oh, how pathetic you looked when you cried. Aegon wished to make you cry whilst he spilled his seed into you.

After a moments pause, he pulled out and sheathed himself back inside, setting a brutal pace for your poor little cunt.

“Ah! slow down, lēkia, it’s too m-” (brother)

The rest of your sentence was muffled as Aemond took the opportunity of your mouth wide open to stuff his cock down your throat.

You gagged at the intrusion, and clawed at your brothers thighs to push him off. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked so you met his gaze. The soft look he gave you contrasted the way he was choking you with his member.

“Such a filthy little girl aren’t you? letting your brothers have their way with you after committing treason,” Aemond moaned. His other hand slithered down to your neck and began to squeeze, just hard enough you began to gasp for air.

Soon, you lost your strength and could no longer try to push him off of you.

Aemond smiled at you, “That’s it, just a little more dove. Don’t fight it, that’s a good girl,” the lack of oxygen made your eyes roll back into your head.

He soon loosened his grip on you, stroking your cheek lovingingly before bringing his hand down to strike at your cheek. The same one Jace laid his hands on earlier.

You gagged helplessly as he fucked your throat without mercy.

Aegon had never been so turned on his life, his hips sporadically thrusting into you. He knew no whore in the seven kingdoms could please him after tonight.

“No one else will ever lay a finger on you ābrazȳrys, only me and Aemond (wife). Fuck, I think she likes getting slapped brother,” he hissed and dug his fingers into your hips, sure to leave bruises come morning.

“Would you like me to spill my seed down your throat baby sister,” Aemond watched in delight as you gurgled incoherently around him.

He reached down and pinched your nostrils together, effectively blocking off your airways.

“I asked you a question līve, answer me,” (whore) he taunted and you did your best to nod your head while grabbing at his hand which finally allowed you to breathe again. He knew he was close to his peak, ramming his cock in and out of your warm, wet mouth.

Your brothers both moaned in bliss, minds overcome with the pleasure of finally corrupting their sister. They did not hear your cries and pleas, they were utterly consumed with you.

You could nothing but take it. Soon, your mind went blank as your brother prodded at your g-spot over and over.

You could feel your release approaching right as Aegon began thrusting faster, but n cock begin to swell.

“Fuck, you’re gonna take my seed aren’t you sister, gonna breed you as many times as it takes. fuck you’re mine, fucking take it,” he groaned as he let go and filled your womb.

“Can’t wait to take you back home, were going to have such fun together aren’t we”, he stayed inside you and pushed his release back inside your with his spent cock.

The sight of his older brother spilling inside of you sent Aemond over the edge. After Aegon pulled out, Aemond took his cock out of your mouth and sheathed himself inside you.

“This seed is going to take, and you’ll soon be round with our child, would you like that? You’re squeezing the life out of me. Tatagon rūsīr issa,” he grunted in your ear. (finish with me)

Your release hit you like a lightning bolt. You cried out at the aftershocks of your peak. you reached down to cradle your belly that swelled with the amount of seed inside you.

Your body soon collapsed with exhaustion, blacking out for a moment before coming to again.

Both of your brothers knelt on either side of you and tenderly kissed your forehead.

“You did so well for us gevie,” Aegon murmured as he caressed your cheek.

“Made us feel so good.” Aemond watched your cunt clench around nothing, already missing the cock that was inside.

He would claim her cunt when they returned home.

A soft “mm” was all you could manage.

As you sat and composed yourself, you looked over to see Jace’s body still lying there.

Before you could dwell on the tragedy before your eyes, you were scooped up by Aegon who muttered, “Time to go home ābrazȳrys”. (wife)

authors note: tada! hope you all enjoyed my first fic! please leave me feedback as i’m new to this :)

- alice <3

[ridingthatd]

.｡.: SUKUNAS FILTHY THING

.｡.: sukunaxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, sukuna is filthy, breeding kink, gojo is involved

sukuna wanted you since the first moment he laid his eyes on you- his seven eyes on you, to be more specific. not only in this life, but in all of your 1000 thousands life, each one of them he only seems to fall in love harder and harder- and each life it gets harder and harder for him to let you go, because you seem to make him promise you the same stupid promise in each of your life- to not revive you, at first he just laughed it off.

but to his surprise you were serious every life before you leave his miserable self, you would tell him to promise you that he wouldn't revive you- that he would just look for you in your other life, since you wanted the same feeling of falling in love with him all over again- you claimed it was the best feeling in all of your life's combined. sukuna didn't disagree, watching you bloosm and live all over again brings peace to his cold heart, he wouldn't want you to be like him- living for thousand of years, being sick in the mind, he's aware to the fact he's pure evil and he doesn't mind that one bit- but to his surprise this life of yours is gonna be different.

"who knew i was gonna see my little flower, bearing a seed of another man" sukuna tsk as he stares at your sleeping figure, looking as beautiful as you have always been, but what's different this time was your round belly, pregnant with a baby, the baby of non other then saturo gojo his moral enemy. sukuna couldn't deny that his very attractive, very lovely little filthy human looked so fucking sexy pregnant who probably has no idea what a waste of oxygen the father of her baby is.

you belong to sukuna.

for sukuna, who’s spent more nights than he’d care to admit furiously fisting his cock to the memory of you.

and seeing you pregnant?

even though he can process the thought that you were swollen with this waste of human being man, sukuna could hardly complain about the sight of you, his shaft straining painfully as he lays eyes upon your gloriously swollen, heavy breasts.

"such a sexy little thing" sukuna growls as he make himself comfortable on your bed, hugging you from behind, completely pressing his front against your back, he couldn't help but groan once he take a look at two large wet spots that have soaked through your shirt heavy, swollen breasts. the milk leaking from them, soaking through your clothes and inevitably trailing down your stomach.

two of his large hands make their way under your nightgown toward your preaky nipples poking through your shirt,so full filled with milk that his tongue is aching to lap on, so that's exactly what he do- as soon as his hands reach your swollen breasts, he form a mouth on his palm and place them directly on your nipples, two of his hands are now sucking, drinking your milk.

he purrs at the sweet taste of your milk, so so so sweet just like the clear liquid that he always used to lap on coming from your sweet little pussy.

you gently moan out once he starts sucking your earlobe in his mouth, he knows this is your sensitive spot- and he knows that you can cum just from him sucking on it and your breast- he knows any minute your body will arche and squirt all over the bed, but what he doesn't know was that as soon as you came milk also started squirting out of your boobs.

sukuna growls at the sight of you making a mess, covered in milk, and your clear cum, you were such a sensitive little flower as he always used to say- but pregnancy only seemed to make you more sensitive.

he smirks thinking about the filthy ways he can tease you, he can use your sensitivity against you, ways he can have you sobbing, begging to stuff you both in your sweet pussy and tight little ass.

but not today he isn't patient with the way he roughly use his other two arms to un tie his kimono, while he kept his other two mouth covered hands full with your nipples still sucking on your nipples that he bets are more swollen and bright red by now.

as soon as he takes his kimono off, he hiss as he free his two hard cum leaking cocks, stroking both of them together, as they make a wet noise from how much he has leaked just by making you squirt.

sukuna keep his sinful mouth-hand latched onto your heavy, engorged tits, greedily drinking every spurt of breast milk that comes leaking out of you, the flow growing steadier with each lap and squeeze. 

you whine in your sleep clearly not handling the sensitivity, even when sukuna himself put you to sleep, you still arched, whimpered, whined, squirted, your body missing his-

sukuna roughly flip you to your back, while he's on top of you lining his cock, getting ready to stuff your greedy cunt that's clenching around nothing. "tsk look at this, look at you, such a little whore couldn't wait for your masters cock so you used another man's instead" he tsk at you grabbing you harshly by your neck, not caring if it leaves marks- you're his after all.

he shove his tongue past your lips- the same time he shoved his cock inside of your little cunt. you jerk back, your eyes shooting open- just to roll behind your skull, your body was twitching against his, the more you arch the more you moan out.

sukuna doesn't care that you're awake now, it boils his blood with pleasure to see you this way, so drunk off his dick, can't think straight- sukuna doesn't care as he shove his other cock into your tight ass, tearing through it.

"fuuuuuck just like that so fucking tight" he groans into the ceiling, as he slams his hips into you, earning whispers from your, your body reacting to his cocks tearing through you, he looks at your belly, as he growls out.

"this- this baby is gonna be mine, it's gonna be filled with my seed instead so full of it". he only goes faster and faster- in humanly faster, as he leans in place his forehead on yours, caging you in his arms.

it’s the combination of both of his cock hitting harshly into your sweet, sensitive part of nerves and the sight of milk dripping down his chin as he decides to messily drinks from you that sends you tumbling over the edge, your orgasm washes over you. clear liquid squirting from your cunt and soaking the front of sukunas kimono. squirting on him for the second time, sukuna would do anything to have you squirting on him forever, drowning him with your sweet honey.

sukunas eyes darken as he gently picks up your chin with his two fingers, and coo at you "good girl".

"my good fucking girl".

and what drives sukuna mad was- “yours,” you pant. “I’m yours master", your soul remembers his touch so much that you can speak those words mindlessly.

and when he leans down, holding eye contact with you as he licks up your milk that was rolling down one of your tits, from how his fingers pinched your hard bud and made you squirt it out, your body trembles not handling the sensitivity of your nipples, not handling the two cocks that stuffed both of your holes, making sure you can think about anything but his big fat cocks.

he follows moments after you, driving his length in to the hilt as he groans, fingers gripping you tightly, his thick cock pulsing heavily inside both of your holes, as he fills them in, cunt deep with ropes of cum. as fucked out as you feel, you can’t help but whine at the feeling of being filled with his thick cum, shivers run through you as cum leaks out of your ass, your pussy quivers around the stretch of his cock, milking every drop of sukunas seed from him. 

sukuna feels you rocking your hips back into him, and his answering a dark chuckle as he reaches between you. he plays with your overstimulated clit, pressing gentle kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck as his seed begins to leak out of you. you moan softly, head falling against the pillow you and gojo share, pleasure mounting inside of you once more. both of his cocks still inside of you , remains of his softening cock, he slowly fucks his cum back inside of you, his rough whispers of praise a warm caress against the shell of your ear as your entire body feels completely boneless.

he bets gojo would love the sight of you like that too.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ end ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ

[eccentricallygothic]

When Bf!Pedri comes back a winner from a Classico and you are a Madridista… 

Warning(s): Painal, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, humiliation, spanking, mirror sex, body writing, kinda hate sex but not really because it's an established thing, football rivalry. MDNI. 

Pedri eats you out and worships your pussy if Madrid wins, and he fucks your ass and then some if Barcelona does. 

Meaning it goes his way if he comes home a victor.

That is the deal.

The room is engulfed in silence and the menace in the air seems to cut at the tears sitting on your eyes. Your gasps and hisses are lost on you due to how loud and heavy your heart thumps in your ears. Your fingertips are cold against the edge of the table that they remain curled around and your knuckles have turned white from the force you're putting into your grip.

When another one of Pedri's spanks bring you to a state of temporary coherence, you hear his cold chuckle as well as the humiliating smacking of his balls against your blushing ass that is gaping around his rock-like girth. 

“I know, baby, I know” the white jersey that he makes you wear especially for the occasion scalds into your skin when he brushes your hair out of the way and smooths the pearly fabric down to make the name of one of his rivals even clearer to his lust-ridden, proud view. “It hurts to lose” his taunting coo burns into your cheeks and you clench your jaw in loathsomeness despite the unmeasurable love you hold for your cruel defiler.

You try to lower your head to avoid your view so he grabs your hair and pulls at it to make sure you are upright enough to see yourself in the full size mirror that he has placed before the table. The pathetic score with which your club lost to his is written on your forehead with a big, black, and bold marker. 

“Look at how pretty you look bent over with your Madridista ass spread around my cock” the mat of his thick hair sticks to his forehead as the ends hang over his intimidating eyes that are so dark they appear almost wholly black. He is still wearing his kit, he never takes it off on nights such as this. One of his hands hold your tear stained face up towards the mirror and the other keeps one of your knees pushed over the table to make his destroying of your ass even deeper.

Now you understand why he gave you a cool snort and careless once over before reassuring you that it was okay when you revealed yourself to be a Madridista on your very first date. It had been surprising for you, because you had almost imagine him dumping you out of disgust. But he had told you it was okay. That you could love him and your club at the same time and the world would still be the same, if the two of you were good for each other. 

And oh, the two of you were more than good for each other. 

In a once in a lifetime kind of way.

Which is why this deal was a fun and mutual decision between the two of you. 

“You pretend to be mad and embarrassed, but I can feel your tiny little pussy trying to greedily clamp down onto me everytime I graze by, tsk.” And now you are reminded of why it had come to be in the first place.

Because your lover that belonged to the enemy had not spoken one word false. You are a mess of burning wanton between your legs, your hips try to reach out to him with no regard to the stinging of your poor pucker each time his snap against yours. And you bite your lip before sucking down on it in sick anticipation of when he will lay you down under him and make you look at his face as he would take you over and over again until his name and face will be all that you know.

You cannot wait.

. . .

MASTERLIST 

[heli-writes]

A dragon's heart, part 11.

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: mentions of injuries, mentions of rape and abuse, mentions of breeding, mentions of death

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Note: Things are about to take a turn, can you guess what's next?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

„Well... that sure was... something.“, Mitsuki says while staring after y/n.

„Tsk, I've told you she's got fire.“, Katsuki tells her smugly.

Part of him understands y/n's anger. Hell, he's angry with his mother too. He can't imagine what it must be like for y/n when people talk over your head. Katsuki knows that y/n isn't stupid. He's sure she figured out that this argument was about her. It's not like his mother tries to hide her disgust about y/n.

Suddenly, the entrance to the tent shifts and Katsuki half-expects y/n to enter the tent again. However, it's Kirishima who pokes his head into the tent. The red-haired man seems to shrink a bit when he spots Mitsuki.

„Uhm, hey chief, hate to interrupt but our scouts have returned from the kingdom. You might want to hear what they have to report.“, Kirishima informs Katsuki.

Katsuki gives him a firm nod and follows him outside. His mother is close behind him. Together they walk to the war tent. It's where the maps are and where the tribe plans its raids and strategic maneuvers. On their way there, they come face to face with multiple injured men. They're taken to the healers. Many of them are unconscious or clutching very bloody wounds.

„What happened?“, Katsuki wants to know but Kirishima only shrugs.

„Don't know any specifics only that the mission must've gone wrong.“, the man tells his leader. Katsuki scoffs. While his men often got injured due to their reckless fighting style, the sight is worrying.

Upon entering the tent, the men inside stiffen and give Katsuki and Mitsuki a sign of respect. Nobody dares to say a word.

„So?“, Katsuki barks, „What happened? Why are my men bleeding to death out there?“

A man in dirty armor stands up. He's not looking too good, actually. Katsuki guesses he's been with the scouts.

„We've been scouting out an area East of the mountains. It was a bit more inland, deeper into Todoroki's territory than usual. It's a rural area far off from any havens or big rivers so we didn't expect to run into any trouble. We were looking for small settlements that we could attack in the next few months.“, the man explained.

„And let me guess, you did run into trouble?“, Katsuki follows up and the man nods.

„Yes, we've just scouted out the area and landed to discuss which settlements would be the best to attack during our next flight when we were ambushed by Todoroki's soldiers. In all honesty, we didn't see them coming. They were hidden from the sight above and even upon landing, our dragons weren't alarmed.“, the man continues.

Katsuki furrows his eyebrows. Their dragons usually can smell prey from miles away. It's strange that none of them sensed the enemy. Moreover, it's quite the same as when y/n and him were ambushed by those bandits. Is this a coincidence? Or is there a connection between the two incidents?

„And then what? Don't tell me our mighty dragon warriors lost to a few mere human soldiers?“, his mother interrupts his trail of thoughts. The scout suddenly looks really pale.

„Well, there were just too many of them. We have no idea where they suddenly came from. We tried to fight them, but it got clear pretty quickly that they overpowered us in numbers. That's why we retreated.“, the man explains in a squeaky voice.

„Retreated? Since when do we retreat? We fight till death! We are warriors!“, his mother's voice booms to through the tent. All men looked at their feet not daring to meet their former chief's eyes.

„We've lost enough people the last few years. We can't afford to lose further tribe members by being reckless. You made the right call.“, Katsuki tells the men and indirectly puts his mother into her place. His mother scoffs and mutters something about cowards under her breath.

„So, how did the king know we'd send scouts to this place? Do we have a traitor among us?“, Kirishima changes the topic.

„The question is did he know or is he simply strengthening his forces?“, another man chirps in.

Katsuki isn't sure about that. They already noticed that there is a stronger military presence throughout the kingdom. He's sure that his tribe's attacks play a significant role in that. In the past few years they've raided more paces than they usually would. They've grown bolder, more desperate, and moved further inward. It might be that the king mistakes their raids for attempts to see how far they can get, to see if they can weaken the kingdom and overtake parts of their territory. Maybe the king doesn't see that these riots are due to the weakened state of the tribe, to ensure their survival.

Or maybe the king senses an opportunity to end the Dragonblood tribe once and for all. Strategically speaking, it wouldn't be a bad idea. The tribe lost strength and if there would be a fitting time to get rid of them once and for all, it would be now. Katsuki did his best to keep the plague a secret and make the tribe look strong on the outside. However, somehow some information must slipped through the cracks. It might be due to outside contacts like Deku or Uraraka. Katsuki refuses to believe there might be a traitor among them. The last thing they need is a riot.

Katsuki's quiet while his men start yelling and fighting in front of him. His mother nudges him. Waking out of his trance, he notices how his men are almost about to start a fistfight.

„Silence!“, he yells and his men freeze before letting go of each other and straightening their posture. 

„How many did we lose?“, Katsuki asks calmly.

„About 13 and counting. We don't know how many make it through the night.“, the scout tells him.

An eery silence befalls the tent. It's too many lives lost. Not even four children have been born this year to replace them. Plus, these children were born weakly and maybe won't live until adulthood. If this rate continues, the tribe will be gone before the end of the next decade.

„We need to bring in more women.“, Denki says into the silence. 

„Why that? These women only give us weak children! If any at that!“, another warrior comments. Some murmur in agreement. Kirishima looks conflicted and is very careful when he starts speaking.

„Maybe we should consider hiring men from other tribes. If they and their families settle with us, it will improve our situation from a strategic point of view.“, Krishima carefully proposes.

Immediately, men start speaking over each other.

„Bring in outsiders? No way, we can't trust them!“

„These outsiders can't compete with our strength!“

„They will piss themselves just at the sight of our dragons.“

„Silence!“, Katsuki yells once again. The volume comes down again and everybody looks at their leader expectantly.

„We're of dragon blood.“, Katsuki declares, „It's already humiliating that we have to mix our blood with those of commoners. At least that offspring will have some of our ancestors' strength in them.“

„Then what do we do?“, another man asks. Katsuki staightens his posture and lets his eyes wander through the tent.

„We lay low for a while. Scouts will fly in smaller groups. We stay on the outskirts of the Todoroki kingdom. Also, we should scout other kingdoms as well, such as the Yaoyorozu kingdom.“, he declares.

„What about raids?“, a man asks.

„We only hold small raids. Our focus will be bringing in as many females as we can. Leave gold and treasures behind. We only focus on the resources we really need.“, he tells them.

A murmur goes through his men. They don't like holding back. Katsuki understands them. There's no feeling more empowering than letting fire rain on an enemy and taking their treasures. But for now, they will have to focus on more important things.

„Kirishima, send a small scouting party to the Yaoyorozu kingdom. And get me that damn Deku here, goddamnit!“, he orders and pushes himself off the table he was leaning on.

„Now, get the hell out of here!“, he yells at his men. His men rumble and reluctantly leave the tent. Kirishima gives him a worried glance before leaving his friend and his mother alone. When they're alone, Katsuki turns to his mother.

„Do you understand now, Mother? Why I can't wait until one of our own is of age?“, he tells her.

Mitsuki stays silent in response.

~*~*~*~

Y/n's a shadow. She slips in between the tents trying to stay out of sight. Somehow it feels forbidden to seek out another woman. Luckily for her, the warriors of this tribe seem to hold a conference. It makes it easier for her to find her way back to Nadia and it also means that Nadia's husband won't be looming over her and they might just have a minute to talk.

When y/n found her way to Nadia's tent, she stands in front of it inconclusively. She's not sure how to make herself noticeable. It's not like they have a doorbell. Y/n takes a deep breath and decides to carefully enter the place. She pushes the fabric at the entrance away and pokes her head into the tent.

„Nadia?“, she softly calls out to the other woman when she can't see the other woman in the darkness of the tent.

Suddenly, there's rustling and the shuffling of feet. Nadia's face appears in front of y/n and she immediately grabs y/n's arm pulling her into the tent.

„What are you doing? Are you crazy? You can't just walk around in the middle of the day!“, Nadia whispers. Y/n gives her a bewildered look.

„What do you mean? Are you forbidden to go outside?“, she asks the pale woman.

„Aren't you?“, Nadia asks back carefully. 

Y/n thinks about this for a moment. Actually, she's not sure. It's not like she could understand Katsuki even if he told her about a rule like that. Then again Katsuki didn't seem too pissed when he saw her walking around earlier. He didn't even chase after her when she left his tent. Y/n shrugs.

„I don't know.“, she answers the other woman truthfully.

Nadia shakes her head in disbelief.

„You need to be more careful.“, Nadia tells y/n. Y/n furrows her brows.

„Why? What are you afraid of? Does your husband really forbid you to go outside?“, y/n rambles desperate to get some information out of Nadia.

Nadia looks into y/n's eyes for a few seconds silently before stating: „You really don't know anything, do you?“

It sounds accusing as if it's somehow y/n's fault that nobody tells her anything. At least not in a language she doesn't understand. Also, she doesn't think that Katsuki is the explaining type of guy.

„No.“, she tells Nadia calmly, „That's why I'm here. I don't understand what is happening. Please tell me everything you know.“

Nadia sighs deeply and then waves for y/n to sit down at a chair. She makes some tea before joining y/n. The women stay silent for another moment. Y/n is itching to pressure Nadia further. Before y/n can open her mouth, however, Nadia carefully asks:

„Do you know why they've brought you here?“

Y/n looks into her tea cup. It's a difficult question. She assumes that Katsuki brought her here because he liked her. A dreadful feeling starts to form in her stomach. What if that's not all? What if Katsuki has further plans for her?

Nadia takes y/n's silence as the answer.

„They brought you here for breeding.“, Nadia tells her without any emotions in her voice.

„E-excuse me?“, y/n asks taken aback. It's a word she has heard farmers use for cattle but never in the context of human beings.

„Have you seen any women around here? Probably not. It's because they're all dead. They bring us here so that we bear their children.“, Nadia explains.

Y/n stares at the woman. She puts down her tea cup. That... can't be right. No, Katsuki wouldn't do that. Of course, there was some tension between them and she's sure that if she'd let him, Katsuki would fuck the living daylight out of her but... not because of that. Because of... what actually? Love? Y/n almost has to laugh at that ridiculous thought. They've known each other for a couple of days. She's sure Katsuki is fond of her, but it's not love. Yet, a hopeful little voice says in the back of her head. Y/n shakes her head to get the thought out of her head.

„That's ridiculous.“, she tells Nadia. The woman leans back in her seat.

„A normal person might think like that. But these aren't normal people. They're monsters, barbarians who don't care about anything but themselves.“, Nadia answers. She sounds bitter.

„I'm sure Katsuki doesn't think that way“, y/n thinks out loud. Nadia's head whips upward.

„Katsuki? As in Katsuki Bakugou? Don't tell me you'll be married off to him!“, Nadia says in horror.

„I'm not sure about the marrying off part...“, y/n trails off.

„Did he put you into fancy clothes and paint and showed you off?“, Nadia asks. Y/n nods silently.

„Then he takes you. For himself or for one of his men, I don't know. Not that it would matter anyway. They're all the same.“, Nadia states.

Y/n crooks her head.

„Tell me Nadia, what did these people do to you that you think so lowly of them? So far, Katsuki wasn't cruel to me.“, y/n asks carefully. Nadia swallows hard.

„They attacked our village. When they've slaughtered most of the men, they rounded the women up. Some of us were chosen and taken to their camp. The others... I don't know raped or killed or both.“, Nadia says in a shakey voice. Clearly, the memory is hard for her.

„You've been taken here against your will?“, y/n asks even though she should be able to guess the answer.

„You weren't?“, Nadia asks again in disbelief. Y/n shrinks under her gaze. She feels as if she should feel ashamed for going with Katsuki.

„I didn't have much of a choice.“, she decides to reply. Nadia starts looking at her hands.

„Neither did we.“, she continues, „We've been brought back here. The men who chose us presented us to the chief who... I don't know, gave them his blessing or something like that. And then...“

Nadia doesn't finish the sentence. It sounds as if she's choking. Y/n doesn't see any tears glimmering in the dusk of the tent.

„Then what?“, y/n whispers breathlessly. She wants to know, even if it's horrible

„Then, the man who chose me took me back here. Violated and abused me right there on this bed.“, Nadia whispers back and points to the bed on the other side of the tent.

„Ever since then, I'm forced to live here as his wife or something. He continues to hurt me, to... He's not a kind man. I'm scared of him. Of him, of this place, of everything.“, Nadia whispers. 

Now, y/n sees the shimmer of tears on the other woman's face. She's at a loss for words. What can you say to a woman who is a victim to such terrible crimes? Y/n just bows her head and stares onto her own hands.

She's been blind. Blinded by Katsuki. By his strength that saved her. By the security his presence promises. She's heard the stories of the Dragonblood tribe. Was she really stupid enough to believe that they were all lies? She's seen what Katsuki can do to a few grown-ass men. Murder, abduction, and rape are all she connected to this tribe for years. After a few days with Katsuki and y/n lost all common sense. Mostly, she feels ashamed for not questioning this whole thing further. What kind of person just rides off with a strange man and his firebreathing beast? A stupid one.

„I'm really sorry.“, y/n whispers and takes Nadia's hand. Nadia grips her hand tight.

„Don't be. It's better you're prepared for what happens next.“, Nadia tells her.

Y/n doesn't have the courage to tell her that Katsuki isn't like that. Then again, could she say these words with confidence? She starts to realize that she doesn't know Katsuki at all. Maybe he is that kind of person. He seems to allow his men to commit these acts. So he either approves or doesn't care. Either way, it's bad.

„How many others are there? Women they've brought in?“, y/n asks Nadia. Nadia shrugs.

„I barely leave this tent. I'm too afraid and it's too cold out there anyway. The others probably feel the same, so there is no real way of knowing.“, Nadia tells her.

„You can't just rott here!“, y/n exclaims, „We should contact the other women. It's best if we stick together.“

Nadia looks up at her with tired eyes. Her posture is slumped. Y/n thinks that she looks a hundred years old right now even though she's not much older than y/n herself.

„Y/n...“, Nadia starts, „I can't. I'm too afraid and too tired. You don't know what it's like to do this day in and day out. Never knowing in what kind of mood he comes home.“

Nadia looks exhausted. As if she's already given up on everything and anything.

„Nadia, I'm sure we can do something!“, y/n tries to motivate her. 

The pale woman doesn't answer her. She just stares into her tea cup. Everything about her looks dull, y/n thinks.

Suddenly, there's clamoring outside. Voices of men and clashing of metal can be heard. Nadia bolts up.

„You need to go. You can't be here when he comes back!“, Nadia panics and grips y/n's arm. She pulls y/n onto her feet and starts pushing her out of the tent.

„Wait, there's still so much...!“, y/n starts and is interrupted by a sharp hiss by Nadia.

„You need to leave. Now. Or we're both not safe. Don't come looking me for a while. It's too dangerous. I'll find you soon“, Nadia spits out and pushes y/n completely out of the tent.

Y/n stares at the fabric in front of her. The last part sounded like a lie. She's sure Nadia won't try to find her and start something. She's too much in survival mode.

~*~*~*~

It's already dusk when y/n is pushed out of Nadia's tent. Men light torches next to their tents and along the paths around the settlement. Keeping Nadia's words in mind, she tries to avoid the men. Most of them, however, don't pay attention to her or only give her curious looks. No one yells at her or tries to drag her back to Katsuki's tent. It makes her wonder how seriously Nadia's explanations should be taken.

Y/n wanders aimlessly around until the sun has set completely and only the torches illuminate the settlement. Men retreat to their tents and the smell of food lingers in the air. Just then, y/n notices how hungry she is. She only had a small breakfast before the presentation. She was too nervous to get much down. Nevertheless, she doesn't want to return to Katsuki. At least not yet.

Her head is pulsing with information she can't really process. She hoped that visiting Nadia could help her navigate this place somehow, to better understand Katsuki and the others. However, Nadia confused her more than it helped. Her own perception of Katsuki and the tribe is so different than Nadia's. 

Y/n considers trying to find other women. There must be others that speak her language. Nadia said that multiple women from her village were taken. But since most men returned to their homes, y/n doesn't dare to just open a random tent and peek into it. She promises herself to look into it tomorrow.

When her hands and feet grow too cold, y/n decides she must go inside soon. Somehow she's not ready to find Katsuki yet. Sleeping a night separate from him would be best. Close proximity to Katsuki makes her mind and emotions unpredictable. She needs to clear her head and find a focus.

Unfortunately, she doesn't know any place to go. She considers looking for the tall red-haired man but then again it's likely he settled down for the night as well. And there's no way of telling what his tent is. 

So, the only place she does know is the great red's den. Y/n shudders at the thought of having to cross paths with all the other dragons in order to get there. Y/n figures that if they didn't attack her earlier, they probably won't attack her now. She's probably just a fly to them.

The path to the dragons' living space is not as lit as the rest of the settlement. Y/n steals one of the last torches at the outskirts of the settlement. The path is uneven and y/n stumbles over her feet a couple of times. The darkness doesn't bother her. Her people often camped in forests or mountainsides. She's used to hearing strange noises at night or walking in the darkness of the night in order to pee. When she's at the gorge's entrance, she halts for a moment. In contrast to earlier, the place lies in absolute silence. Maybe all the dragons are asleep?, she thinks before taking a deep breath and entering the dragon-occupied territory. 

Luckily, she remembers the path to the great red's den well so she walks at a fast but quiet pace. She keeps her eyes low, focused on the path. It's best not to make any eye contact with a dragon. Especially not one of the scary black ones. Her eyes flicker up when she's close to the den. Y/n lets out a shaky breath in relief. She made it!

Suddenly, a hot stenchy breath hits her shoulders and face. Y/n freezes in her step. Don't look, don't look, she tells herself. Another hot steam hits her face. It's hotter than before and closer. The dragon must be right beside her. How did she not notice a giant lizard crawling up on her. 

Y/n hears the giant creature shuffle closer. Go away, go away, she prays in her mind. A huge, scaley snout shoves her shoulder. The pressure pushes her over and y/n lets out a loud yelp before dropping to the side and letting go of her torch. Instinctively, she tries to shuffle away from the creature that now completely comes into view. It's a green one. Y/n is sure that the beast must have a bilious green shade in broad daylight. A color as poisonous and deathly as the breath y/n is forced to smell. 

The dragon is smaller than the black ones, maybe even than the blue ones. In contrast to those and the great red, it has no horns at the side of its head but a row of sharp spikes from the middle of its head all the way over its spine to its tail that is crowned with two longer, crescent-shaped spikes. Cunning red eyes watch y/n's every move. If y/n wasn't panicking, she probably would've thought that they looked similar to Katsuki's eyes. The pupils of the dragon are formed into fine slits and y/n is sure it is focusing on its prey right now. The prey being her of course. 

The creature snarls at y/n and snaps at her. It's enough to make y/n yell out in fear. However, it's clear that the dragon did not intend to truly catch her in between those sharp teeth of its mouth. It's playing with me, y/n thinks. But not in the cute way that the small ones did earlier. More like a cat playing with a mouse. Making it dance and bleed before snapping it in two. It's cruel and befitting for a dragon, y/n thinks. 

It kind of makes her angry, too. Clearly, this is an intelligent creature. It makes her sick to the stomach thinking about that this is how she's supposed to die. I can't fight it, y/n figures. And I shouldn't provoke it either. My only chance is to make a break for the red one's den. 

Y/n tries not to advert her gaze. If she looks into the direction of the den now, it'd be a dead giveaway. She tries to collect herself, to even her breathing. She closes her eyes for a second and tries to set her intention. When she opens her eyes again, she's met with the burning red ones of the dragon. She gives it a determined stare. I'm not going to back down, I'm not going to die, she recites in her mind over and over again as she slowly stands up keeping her posture bowed and small. She takes one deep breath before starting a sprint in the den's direction.

She can hear the yelping sound of surprise behind her and the massive stomps of the beast following her. Suddenly, electricity lies in the air. For a moment the air seemed to become cooler. Y/N's heart starts racing. She's felt this before. Right before the great red burned that man into ashes. That's it, y/n thinks while quickly sliding down in a sad attempt to dodge the fire.

However, the flames don't reach her because suddenly the great red is standing right in front of her spewing its own fire. Y/n turns back and sees the fire of the green one meet the red one's in a firestorm. Seeing it side by side, y/n thinks that the green dragon's fire has a hint of blue in it in contrast to the red one's fire which is just a glowing red and orange. The green one cannot keep up with the red one's firepower and retreats. The red one throws an eardrum-busting roar after it. Y/n's hands race up to her ears protecting herself from the sound.

Small fires still smolder on the ground when the red dragon resumes its fighting stance. It turns to y/n and she's sure the look the great red gives her is angry. She's so sure about that since Katsuki has the same wild, untamed look in his eyes when he's angry. The red one snarls at her and retreats into its den. Y/n doesn't wait a single second to follow it inside.

„I'm really sorry for just showing up here, you know“, she rambles, „I don't want to go back to Katsuki and I didn't know where else to go. You see the situation is really complicated and...“

Y/n stops her spewing of words mid-sentence. What even is she doing here? Talking to a dragon? Y/n drops her arms to her sides. Suddenly, she feels exhausted and desperate and just... done. This day has been so frustrating. Y/n stares intensely at the ground.

What am I even doing here?, she thinks. Like literally, what am I doing? Following a total stranger who has a terrifying reputation back to his tribe of brutes and warriors? Walking straight into dragon territory? It's like all my logical thinking has gone out of the window since the moment I met Katsuki.

Y/n feels hot tears pour out of her eyes and down her cheeks. 

This is so stupid. I'm so stupid.

Maybe it's wrong to blame Katsuki for this. Maybe her making bad decisions started when the world started to fall apart. When the sickness took first her mother and then her father. When her brother left. Why didn't she follow him? Maybe she couldn't have joined the military but she would've made a fine nurse. Why on earth did she think she was better off alone?

Her tears hit the ground. She tries not to let out any sobs. Somehow showing weakness in front of the dragon is humiliating. Nonetheless, she can't help but cower to the ground. She remembers the first day with Katsuki. When she was all alone in the woods and the weight of everything that had happened started to crush her down. She feels the same right now. Only like ten times worse. At least back then she could've had the chance to return to the kingdom, find her brother, do something.

Right now, she's stuck. Her actions are so very limited. She can't tell these people what she wants or doesn't want. Also, she's sure that Katsuki and that blonde woman couldn't care less about what y/n wants. Katsuki didn't even ask her if she wanted to come along. He just assumed and put her onto the back of his dragon. He also didn't ask or even attempt to explain to her what happened this morning. When suddenly three strange women stripped her down and dressed her up like a playdoll.

Maybe Nadia's right. These people do not care about her or the other women. Maybe they do only care about producing children. Maybe that's what Katsuki wants. Maybe him liking her is just a plus point. A little extra he gets because he's the big scary leader.

Y/n pulls her hair at the roots. She lets out a choked scream. She's angry and desperate and so, so frustrated. 

Suddenly something nudges her foot. It's one of the little red dragons from earlier. It looks up to her with almost puppy-like eyes and it nestles its head against her leg like a kitten. Y/n lets out a raspy breath she didn't notice she was holding. Furiously, she rubs her eyes.

How silly, she thinks, it's not like crying will help it. She pats the little one's head and suddenly another little one appears on her side. Before she can help it, she's getting tackled again. This time, they're softer than before. Competing for head pats rather than trying to sink their baby teeth into her arms and legs. It's like they are sensing y/n's bad mood and trying to cheer her up.

A giggle rises in y/n's throat and she tries to swallow it down. As she tries to give each of them a head pat, the great red moves over to her and nudges her with its snout as well. Y/n knows better than to touch it without permission. She gives it a small smile however and she believes seeing something like content in its eyes.

Eventually, the little red ones grow tired of tackling y/n and set to rest against the great red. The bigger dragon shifts its wing like it did when y/n and Katsuki looked for shelter under them during the rain. Y/n takes it up on the invitation and slides in between the little ones. She leans against the red's tummy. While the little dragons fall asleep around her and even the great red's breathing starts to slow down, y/n stays wide awake in the darkness.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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[Please comment beneath the last update if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

[allthesmutl0vers]

I’ll hope on the train! Draco x Reader!

Yes!! I love some Draco smut. You didn't specifically request smut or any kind of situation, but I will do my best!🫡

A/N: PSA to everyone sending me requests, please tell me if you want Angst, Smut, or Fluff (Or a mix). Otherwise, I'm just going to assume Smut because it's like 98% of what I write. 🫠🫶

MDNI, NSFW, 18+.

Requests: OPEN

Masterlist

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x F!Reader

Summary: Draco has been your arch-enemy since the first year. He was always running his mouth, calling you 'mud blood' or calling your friends 'blood traitors.' But damn, if he didn't soak your fucking panties at the same time. It was your own personal Hell, and frankly, you were burning. How could he be anything besides cruel? How could you possibly want him and hate him at the same time? It should be a felony how much he can turn you on and piss you off in the same breath.

TW: Angst, Hate Sex, Taunting, Teasing, Smut (P! in V! -you're on birth control), Hair pulling, Choking, Name calling, Cursing, Ends with fluff.

Song Inspo: Click here. (Take me back To Eden: Sleep Token)

"Come on, just bloody admit it," Ginny groans across the train car. "You know he's into you, so what's the holdup?" She asks for the millionth time.

I roll my eyes, annoyed by her constant nagging of the subject, and sigh. "I told you, he's vile. I wouldn't touch him if he was one of the last men on the planet," I try not to snap back at her, but do anyway.

"But he's in our house, and he's hot. Who cares if he's a player?" She asks as she tosses more Bertie Bott's Beans into her mouth. I sigh and look out of the window. How can I possibly explain to her that I'm not interested in Cormac because all I can think of is one particularly vile Slytherin?

"I need some air," I brush off her question as I stand up from my seat. I exit the train car and head to the bathroom to splash some water on my face. The cool water does very little to douse the flames under my skin. "Get your shit together," I mutter to myself in the mirror, gripping the edge of the sink so hard my knuckles turn white.

I sigh and stand up to straighten my tie when the bathroom door opens. Bloody hell, Ginny. I turn to snap at her, but instead, I'm greeted by the one person I swore to myself to avoid at all possible costs. "Great," I huff and roll my eyes.

"Now, is that any way to greet your superior?" Draco quips as his eyes narrow down at me.

I can't help but laugh. "Superior? Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. Now, move," I tell him firmly, clenching my jaw so I don't clench my thighs. Honestly, how could someone this hot be so damn infuriating?

Instead of stepping back, he steps forward, coming into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. "No. Don't think I will," he seethes, looking down at me.

I reach for my wand, only to realize I left it in the cabin. Great. Draco tsks and shakes his head with a smirk. "Forget something?" He quips.

I straighten my back. "No. I don't need a wand to kick your ass. Slytherin trash," I spit back at him with venom lacing my voice.

"Mm," Draco hums in response, taking another step closer. "Give it your best shot, mud blood," he says with a brow raised in curiosity.

I clench my fists, bringing one up and back and throwing it right at his face. Draco catches my fist with no effort at all, enclosing it in his ringed hand. "Nasty are we?" He taunts. "Too bad I was feeling generous today," he quips with a smirk and closes the space between us, his chest flush with mine. My heart pounds so hard I can hear it in my ears, and I pray he can't feel it through our clothes.

"What's wrong, love? Dementor got your tongue?" He teases as my mouth hangs open mike a fish. I mentally kick myself in the ass for it.

"Piss off, Malfoy," I spit back at him. I look at my hand, still encapsulated in his, as he smirks. His tongue dips out to lick his bottom lip, and I hate my traitorous pussy for getting wet as he does it.

Draco chuckles and smiles for just a moment before he presses me against the wall of the bathroom, grabbing my other wrist and pinning both above my head. "I do hate it when we fight. Why don't we call a truce?" He says, looking down at me, his free hand trailing my jaw and gripping my chin, forcing me to look up at him. "Hmm?"

"Thought you didn't fuck mud bloods?" I taunt, instantly wanting to take it back, when I realize I didn't say no. Which doesn't go unnoticed.

Draco's grip on my wrists tightens. "I think I can make an exception just once. I didn't hear you say no," he teases. My thighs clench together, and I fight the whimper that wants to break free from my throat.

"And if I do say no?" I swallow hard.

Draco's jaw ticks, and his eyes narrow down at me. "Then I'd say you're lying," he says, leaning into my ear. "Not just to me, I don't care about that. But lying to yourself, and that's just pathetic," he whispers in my ear, his warm breath a stark contrast from the coolness of his fingertips as they glide down my body to the end of my skirt. "You're a lot of things, love. But I never pegged you as pathetic."

My breath hitches in my chest as his fingers dance around the hem of my skirt, only fueling the fire inside of me. "So. you have two choices," he says firmly as he looks into my eyes. "You can walk out that door," he leans closer, our noses brushing. "Or, you can let me give you the best fucking sex of your life. And maybe we stop hating each other so much."

He releases me, taking a step back as my hands fall to my sides. "You have to the count of three. Otherwise, you surrender the choice to me. One," he starts to count.

God, what am I doing?

"Two," he says in a slightly deeper voice. I should run, I should run, and never look back. I should leave him hanging just as he's left me before.

"Last chance, love," Draco says darkly, starting to undo his tie. It's now or never. I swallow hard, and in the last instant, I decide to let him keep me. For now.

"Three," Draco counts, placing his tie on the counter and pulling out his wand. He does a hurried enchantment, soundproofing the bathroom and locking the door magically before he sets his wand down, too. "You're all mine, now."

I open my mouth to speak but am quickly silenced by Draco's mouth, landing on mine in a fevered kiss. His hands grip my waist, pulling me closer, and I can't stop my hands from draping around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

Draco groans into my mouth as I part my lips, allowing his tongue to enter for the first time. Sparks erupt under my skin as he licks the roof of my mouth. My hands run through his hair, pulling the silky stands and breaking our kiss as we gasp. "Merlin, I need you," Draco groans as he grips my thighs, lifting me off of the floor and sitting me down on the bathroom counter.

"I need you too," I moan softly. "God, I hate you so much," I pant as his lips land on my neck, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin behind my ear.

"Hate, love, I really don't see the difference. Nor do I care," Draco pants as he pulls back and reaches under my skirt, pulling my panties down and off. "All I care about is fucking you so hard you can't say anything besides my name," he huffs as he undoes his pants, pulling them down and pumping his cock in his hand.

"Then fucking do it," I taunt him, my wetness practically dripping down my thighs.

A low growl escapes Draco's throat as he pulls me off of the counter and spins me, pushing me so I'm bent over the bathroom counter. "As you wish, love," he teases as he thrusts into me, giving me no time to adjust to his large size.

I gasp as he thrusts into me, white-knuckling the edge of the sink. "Fuck, give me some time to adjust; why don't you?" I spit over my shoulder.

Draco wraps my hair in his hand and yanks my head back to look at me in the mirror. "You fucking love it," he spits back. His free hand lands on my hip with a bruising grip. He pulls back and thrusts into me again with a moan. "Fucking tight. Guess you're not as much of a slut as I thought," he taunts.

Draco slams into me with a bruising force, making my eyes roll back as he pulls my hair tighter. "Draco," I moan, unable to stop myself.

"That's it, love. Scream my name," he moans as his thrusts quicken. "Let me hear how much you love it."

I thrust back onto him, forcing myself to take him deeper. Draco lifts one of my thighs, putting it on the edge of the counter and hitting that sweet, spongy part inside of me. "Fuck, yes!" I moan loudly. "God, Draco, yes!"

"Mm, never heard my name next to 'God,'" he chuckles darkly as his grip on my hip tightens.

I groan and moan at his audacity. "Shut up and fuck me, you fucking snake," I spew with venom.

Draco's hand leaves my hip, reaching around me, and his fingers start to circle my clit in fast circles. "Then cum for a fucking snake," he fires back.

I feel myself clench around him as my orgasm starts to crest. "Fuck, yes! Draco!" I cry out as my eyes close.

Draco's hand leaves my hair to grip my throat. "Open your fucking eyes," he demands. I obey and meet his eyes in the mirror, mascara falling down my cheeks. "Look at how pretty you look. Watch me fucking ruin you."

I keep my eyes locked with his as he repeatedly impales me with his stupid, delicious, devil fucking cock. And my God, is he right. I look beautiful, like an angel after they fell from grace. Draco leans forward, nipping my shoulder as he pulls down the collar of my shirt. He pulls me back by my throat, sucking a hickey onto my neck, right where it's the most visible. "Fucking mine," he growls. "Mine to fuck, mine to ruin, mine."

His words throw me off the edge. The possessiveness, the sucking, the stolen kisses, the brutal way he's fucking me all send me spiraling down to where? I have no idea. All I know is it isn't heaven. "Draco!" I cum with an Earth-shattering cry. Draco thrusts into me once, twice, three more times before he spills himself inside of me, filling me impossibly full as he cums with my name on his lips and his head tilted back.

After we both finally come down from our highs, we clean ourselves up and re-dress. "You're on birth control, right?" Draco asks me, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," I nod. "Don't worry, you won't have any mud-blood kids coming," I bite as I move toward the bathroom door.

Draco stops me, grabbing my arm and turning me to look up at him. "I'm tired of fighting," he admits, taking me aback with his sincerity. "I don't want to fight with you anymore. I just want..." his voice falters.

I bite my lower lip. "You really mean that?" I ask cautiously. Sure, he just plowed me, but how can I know it's not just afterglow?

Draco nods and pulls me closer. "My parents be damned," he sighs. "I just want you. It's always been you."

I nod looking down, unable to believe what I'm hearing from his mouth. Did Hell freeze over when I wasn't paying attention?

Draco tips my head back up to his face with a gentle finger under my chin. "I mean it. Whatever I need to do to prove it to you, I will."

"I suppose an apology to my friends would be a good first step."

Draco nods without hesitation. "Lead the way, love," he says, grabbing his wand and undoing the magic on the door. I exit first, and he actually follows me, taking my hand in his. When we get back to the car I share with Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron, he follows me inside. "Hey, guys," I say nervously as their eyes widen in shock. "Look who came to apologize," I say with a smile as Draco steps into the car with me.

"Bloody fucking hell," Ron grumbles.

"You owe me a galleon," Harry chuckles and nudges Ron.

[reverie-verse]

Can u do eris x reader with previous az x reader(but he is an ass he just used her for sex to get over mor). So basically eris and yn are mates and they have sex and he discovered she never had aftercare before and yn is so overwhelmed with the love and care she receives that she cried and eris was mad with az and next time he saw him he stabbed him and left.but pls give the aftercare the biggest part in this thanksss

Eris x Reader: My Enemy Didn’t Deserve You.

A/N: I’m trying something new as you can see, I’m creating boards now haha I had so much fun doing this sooooo, I think imma do it more often!😊 I definitely tweaked a few things, this is my second time writing Eris, and I see him as a talker more than full on fist fighter. And again Lestat is how I picture him, I can’t explain it I’m sorry but that’s how I see him😭.

My requests are open! So please do not be afraid to ask meeeee anything! I hope you enjoy it! Also this is kinda long and im sorry 😭

——————————-

You weren’t sure how long you’d been laying on this cushion of a lounge chair, your arm hung over the armrest, some of your hair joining it. You were completely bare, Eris rested between your legs, his lips devouring your sex. You were reading earlier, your book thrown somewhere in the midst of all your clothes. Your moans grow louder by each lick and nip. Eris lets go of your bundle of nerves with a pop, he rests his cheek against your thigh, his long slender fingers already pumping at a delicious pace. Your eyes are screwed shut, your mouth hangs open. Your other hand lifts to grasp at his hair, Eris hums, reaching to grab the hand that held him down.

He tsks. “ Ah-Ah, Y/N you know better”

“ Fuck-Eris-“ You could feel the pressure building in your tummy, you clench around his fingers as he opens you. Prepping you.

“ I haven’t buried my cock in you yet-“

You sucked in a breath “Mother!-” You felt another orgasm edged out of you, your body shook, as the release caused you to become soaked and glistening. You could’ve sworn your saw stars.

“No mother here, only me” He says as he maneuvers himself to his knees, he pushes your legs wider, he lines himself with your entrance. He leaned down briefly, capturing your lips with his. His tongue slips into your mouth stroking against yours. Your hand moved from the armrest, moving between your bodies as you take some of your slick placing it onto him, you grip him pumping him at a decent pace. He groans into your mouth, you greedily take it, swallowing his gorgeous sounds. “ Y/N” he growls, as he pulls back to nip at your lips, his own trailing down to your neck.

“Eris” You whine but not before Eris moves to capture your lips again, it was then that you helped him glide through your folds, slowly, and towards your leaking hole. Eris releases your lips again, your eyes moved to look downward watching him slowly enter you.“ Fuck-“ You whispered, Eris rested his forehead against yours watching your movements not caring how impatient you’re being. You were so open, inviting, your hips wiggling to get closer. You needed him.

“ Needy girl taking what she wants” Once he was about half way in, he took control pushing further in till he bottoms out, the two of you moaning in unison. His hips roll, you hum in an encouraging response. When it came to the bond, it was indescribable, the two of you connected in every way, sometimes it was overwhelming and sometimes it still felt as if it wasn’t enough. You placed your fingers on his neck, some of them intertwining with his hair, you brought his lips back to yours. This allowed Eris to take advantage, he rolled his hips, again, his thrust increasing in pace, drawing out your beautiful noises. He took them with no remorse, relishing in the sound.

He was relentless, his tip hitting each of your sensitive spots, your cervice, your g- spot in every part of you, he could possibly reach. Your skin hot, sweaty, his skin, practically on fire, you swore you saw steam leave him. Eris chuckles out loud at your thought. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. Eris used a free hand that was not gripping the armrest, to cup one of your breasts. He kneads it with fever, rolling it the sensitive budds occasionally. He pounded into you at a delicious pace, your mouth opened to release a moan, Eris was quick to catch it, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip every now and then. His groans at the feeling of how slick and wet your gummy walls were, the fluttering around his cock, squeezing him. It drove him mad, in fact it only encouraged him to thrust faster, chasing that high he so desperately wanted you to reach.

The squelching had only made you wetter by the second, you craved Eris who was thrusting with all of his might, his hips starting to sputter and become sloppy, Eris removed his lips from yours, his forehead resting against yours. Eris slid his hand from the breast that he cupped, down to your sweet plush of nerves. His fingers worked quickly, bringing you near another orgasm. The two of you watched your own bodies react to one another, molded into each other. Your breaths intermingle, the both of you fight for air but not exactly caring if you had any, the pleasure was intoxicating.

“ Fuck-“ He swears.

“ Eris!-Oh!-fuck! “You gasp out, your breathing gaining speed, your moans increasing, your head Lullying back again, your body begins to convulse. You released faster than you expected, your orgasm shooting out of you, squirting onto him, it was enough to make Eris release himself. The sight of you so gorgeous and beautiful, he needed to keep a mental image, as he thrusted himself back into, chasing after his own high. As he rocked himself to complete, he eased the soreness, you continued humming, running your hand down his chest. His own climax following suit, your touch was all he needed to push him over the edge. A loud moan leaves his lips, you smile sweetly at the sound.

Eris breathes, his chest and heart working to slow down its pace, he leans back on his knees, unsheathing himself from you, you let out a whimper. Eris looks down at the apex of your thighs, you have completely soaked the material of the lounge chair, your release mixed with his seed. He takes two of his slender fingers gathering the combined orgasms, shoving his fingers into your mouth. You sucked diligently on his slender digits, your hands holding his wrists, you hummed at the feeling and the taste. The two of you connected in almost every way possible.. In the midst of it, he conjures a wet towel, as he wipes your sex clean from the sticky mess. His finger slipped from your mouth, you shuddered at the feeling of the cold material. You hiss, weren’t used to this sensation, and it wasn’t something you experienced before.

“ Eris?” You questioned as you propped yourself up, your eyes watching his movements, his touch delicate, gentle, he took his time. You were confused, your heart already on overdrive, Eris didn’t help the situation by caressing you through the bond. A feeling of love and loyalty. He swore in his mind that you will always be his, no one else. Your eyebrows furrowed as he continued his ministrations and his loving confessions.

“ Hmm?” He replies, he tosses the towel to the side after he finishes, he gives your thighs a reassuring comforting squeeze.

“ Why did you do that?” You asked, his amber eyes meet your own, he watches you closely. He didn’t need the bond to know that you had never had this before, he could see it in the way your body tensed. You were so lax and comfortable until he cleaned you. He wasn’t sure if you liked that he had done so. Over the centuries he had learned from his past lovers that they enjoyed after care, the feeling, the connection, the moment, the time when nothing else existed outside of the room they occupied. Had you not had past lovers who took care of you in this way?

“I supposed I did it because I love you, and this is my way of showing you that I do, that I care for you-“Eris shot another wave of love through the bond, you were struck hard, your chest swelled, your heart pounded at the feeling. Overcome with love and appreciation, with the notion of willingness to be with you. You couldn’t detect a single negative thought or emotion. Didn’t feel disregarded and you didn’t feel like a used object either. Not in the way you had experienced in the past. “-Did you not like that I had? Would you prefer it if I didn’t?” He asks you with the most sincere voice.

“ I-“ Your heart couldn’t take it, tears welled in your eyes, you weren’t sure how to respond. How do you tell the love of your life, the light of your soul, the torment you went through. How do you tell him, that you did enjoy it, that you were taken by surprise is all..but that surprise unlocked a door that you had closed long ago. Old wounds reopened only for him to heal them. Eris pulled you into his arms, it was there, when you felt his comfort, his warmth, his strength and his peace. You felt safe, you felt protected. Your tears left you no sooner, a gentle stream down your cheeks, they rolled off your skin splattered against Eris’s shoulder. He held you tighter as you cried.

His own heart shattering, what had you gone through enough to make you feel this way? Who did this to you? Why did they do this to you? Eris felt that you had been deprived of a sweetest most intimate form of affection, of love and devotion. No one had the right to take that from you. It made Eris’s blood boil at the thought of it all, to be used simply as a means of release repulsed him. Sure everyone once in a blue moon, a male or a female may seek comfort from others, but by the looks of this, it was someone you knew who did this to you often. You must’ve sought out for comfort and were rejected each time.

Eris didn’t mean to growl out loud, but he did, you pulled yourself from the crook of his neck and shoulder to look at him. You placed a hand on his cheek, you could see the frustration, the anger on his face, you could feel him through the bond, it made your skin feel hot, inside and out. “ I-I love you too, I’m sorry that I’m crying, I just- no one has ever done this before..I-I Iike it..” you admitted it quietly.

“ You don’t deserve to be treated with such little care. You deserve more than that, you deserve to have all of the sweetest moments intimacy has to offer. Never apologize for that, no male should’ve taken advantage of you the way that they did-” He lefts a hand, his thumbs swipes at the salty tears that roll down your cheeks, he wipes the pain away, he places a soft but firm kiss on your forehead. You shut your eyes letting his reassurance wash of you, calming you down, easing your pains and worries. The way your body melted, sinking into him. Eris’s jaw tenses. “ Who did this to you?” He whispered against your skin.

“I’m not sure I should tell you..”, you move to pull yourself completely from his arms, you pull underwear on, you grab his tunic and throw it on. Eris was quick to follow you, throwing on his own underwear and trousers.

“ Why not?” His interest peaked, you had finally wiped the last of your tears away, you made your way back to your shared bedroom, you looked for your bathroom, needing to pee. Eris of course was hot on your heels.

“ I don’t know..I’m kinda nervous” You give a small shrug, you enter your bathroom, Eris stays by the door, he heaves a frustrated sigh. A soft smile stretches across your lips. Your heart is swelling again, at the feeling of your mate caring for you. Wishing to know who and what haunted you, to heal you and start over. Appreciate warming your chest.

“ You don’t need to be nervous, I’d rather you tell me now than to find out later, involuntarily.” He speaks out as he leans against the threshold. His eyes scanning your space, the room in which the two of you called your own. A sweet dream, a safe space, a comfort.

“ Alright you won me over with your charm-” the sound of flushing could be heard, followed by washing your hand in the sink. Eris looked at you through the mirror. Your eyes connected “ If I tell you, you must promise me that you will remain calm, and they are still my friends even though they hate me-“ You turned back to look at him.

“They don’t hate you- they are simply mad that the cauldron had paired you up with someone who they think is a monster-it doesn’t matter, I don’t care what they think but if that’s what you wish, then I will do my best”

“ Thank you..” You bowed your head in a nod” Umm-how do I-…Before I met you, before the bond-I was with Azriel. Really it was sort of a-a bedroom relationship..at the time I was in love with him, and he was in love with Mor, he was trying to get over her.. so we slept together..“

“-If he wanted someone for sex he should’ve gone out to a brothel or a club. I’m sure he could’ve picked anyone off the street-“ He growled at the thought of Azriel using you, of all the males in Prythian. It had his bones searing on the inside. His blood already boiled, his skin practically on fire. Rage as one might call it reflects in his eyes. His hands warmed in sensation, fire licking at his fingertips.

“ Eris, hey, It was a long time ago, it was his fault as much as it was mine too, I was madly in love with him, I would’ve done anything back then. It was naive and stupid, I know that now-“ You were by his side holding his face in your hands. Your eyes flickered between his, you reached a finger up to sooth the angry lines that formed on his beautiful face. His body still rigided but relaxes under your touch.

“ He had no right, even if you were in love with him, he had taken you for granted. He knew you loved him, he knew you cared for him. He knew that if he had you, you wouldn’t leave him. The depths he went to, you must’ve laid there afterwards waiting for him to console you, speak with you, laugh with, and nothing-“ Your lips crashed into Eris’s. He didn’t resist or stop you, instead he let go of the words that wished to run out. Your body pressed against him so tightly, he let you guide the kiss, which was unusual but he needed it. Eris turned his head allowing for the kiss to deepen, your tongue massages the roof of his mouth. You let out a soft moan as Eris’s hands curve around your hips, kneading your body as he reaches to cup your ass.

When your lungs could no longer resist air, the two of you pulled back with only an between you.“ I’m not sure I can keep my promise” He says breathlessly, his forehead pressed to yours.

“ Eris” You shake your head.

“ I won’t kill him, I suppose I’ll have to resort to other things” He tells you as he bumps his nose with yours, the urge to kiss you was strong. His thought’s intermingled with pleasure. All the dirty things he could do to you, in various positions, in various rooms, anywhere, you wanted. To think that Azriel was stupid enough to let you go to neglect a gorgeous female such as yourself, it drove him mad.

“You can’t poison him either or use your magic or anything. You’ve always been the one to use your words-“ Eris pulled you into the space of the bedroom, his hands couldn’t stay off of you, he wanted you right then and there, he wanted you to scream out his name like a prayer as one might do in a temple.

“I am a man of my word, I won’t kill him, but I wouldn’t mind breaking a bone or two, if he decides to cross my path or comes near you-“ His eyes grow darker with lust, the smell of his arousal prominent. You allow him to toss you onto the bed.

“ Eris, that’s a bit much, no?” Eris climbed above you, his hands resting on either side of your head.

“ No, not when it comes to you.”

“ Then let me give you a piece of advice.”

“ Y/N”

“Don’t let him win”

____

Autumn solstice was today, guests had already arrived and mingled with one another. Music filled the room, guests danced with one another, smiles adorned their faces. The aroma of the food floated outwards catching the guests who were hungry, friends laughed together as they ate and drank. Everyone seemed to have been enjoying themselves, the atmosphere vibrant and enjoyable. Upon the arrival of the inner circle, this was what they least expected from Autumn. They were truly surprised, they had no intention of coming but with the alliance between the two courts, a visit was required..not to mention they missed you more they imagined. Your absence was truly felt.

Feyre missed you dearly, you were the one female here that helped her transition from Spring, to Night, to Spring back to Night, you helped her ease into her fae body. She was forever grateful. Nesta couldn’t describe the pain she felt when Rhys had sent you off. She hadn’t spoken to him for months, you were the one person that understood her the best. You were patient with her. Cassian missed the way you so easily understood his sense of humor, oftentimes you added to it, which made irritating the inner circle that much more sweeter. He wished he had spent more time with you, his best friend. Rhys on the other hand missed your presence, you were a resilient soul, your strength was something to admire. He often looked to you for the true console just everyone else had.

Azriel struggled with your absence the most, the withdrawal of not having you near took a toll on him in more ways than one. He missed you as a dear friend, just as the others, but there was a deeper rooted feeling. Not too long ago you were attached to his hip. You were there every beck and call he had, every wish and thought he expressed, you filled the void. You there when Mor couldn’t have been. You were there when Elain first emerged in his life, again you tended to every need. Azriel made no move to return the gestures of what you felt back to you, he had never felt romantically attracted to you. You were a means of sexual escape, away to let out all his frustration, his anger, his pain, into. All the females he had craved gave him nothing in return except you. Even with his rejections, you continuously had given him everything, all the love he ever needed, but it was never enough..

The inner circle's eyes scanned the area, they searched for you, their dearest friend, and when their eyes found you, they each held their breath in awe. You stood in the middle of the crowded room, you were radiant, glowing, your hair in an elegantly loose but not too tight style, creating a perfect balance. Your skin adorned simple jewelry, but as simple as they were, each piece crafted in amber. Your dress was unique, the color of Phtalo green, silky material cascaded down your body, the hem barely touched the floor, when you moved, it was like watching a gentle stream of water. You flowed with such calmness it was enchanting, the little gems that were delicately sown on, shimmered as if the sun's light kissed it. You looked as though you lived and breathed autumn, the heart of the court…

“She’s exquisite isn't she?”Eris tenses at the sound of the familiar voice. The male he despised with everything he had in him.

“She is“ Eris replies his heart squeezing with love, his eyes following you as you stop in your tracks, Nesta, Feyre, Rhys, Cassian approaches you. You practically beamed with excitement as they all crashed into you. You had been speaking with Lucien, who also shared the same excitement. It was a sweet moment to witness something he’ll enjoy hearing you gush about later.

Azriel stood next to Eris watching his family closely. As Azriel sees you he can’t help but think- maybe in another lifetime, one where he might’ve returned what you felt. Choosing to have a life of happiness with you rather than to wait for someone else to return his love. That you might be as happy as you are now. But in the end he just couldn’t feel the same way about you- this thought he carried was one that was just-a dream-a wish-but not true to his emotions and his reality. “How is she adjusting?” He asks, no matter what happened, no matter how little he felt about you, he still cared enough to ask as a friend.

“She’s adjusting well.” Eris wasn’t as forthcoming with your information, Azriel figured as much. Eris refused to give him any sort of insight on how your life might be. It was truly none of his business.

“ Do you mind if I speak with her?” Azriel takes a brief look at Eris, who just so happened to already have set eyes on him.

“Feeling regretful are we?” He turns his gaze back to you, you must’ve told a humorous story, the laughter that erupted out of everyone was loud. You were filled with such joy, it practically buzzed through the bond, Eris lips tilted upward slightly. None of them showed you distan or hatred. But Azriel the shadow themselves fringed upon your beautiful soul. Eris sighed.

“ Regretful no, but curious yes. She left the night court to be with you, I can’t imagine it being a pleasant experience” He says simply as if you meant nothing, and only jab at Eris was his goal.

“ You speak of experiences but if I remember correctly her experience with you was just that, unpleasant” Eris retorted, forcing Azriel to remember who the true villain was.

“ You know nothing of what happened between us” Azriel glares at the crowd, he shouldn’t be as frustrated as he is, he was the one who started the argument.

“I don’t?” Eris questions sarcastically, fine let the games begin.

“Yes” He says through his teeth.

” Look at you, upset because I spoke the truth. I thought your court was known for the truth.” Eris tsks as he shakes his head, as if scolding a child.

“I am not Mor, there is a difference between her and I” he replied his jaw tense and tight.

”Is there? Then again wasn’t she sleeping with others to avoid you.” Eris shrugs knowing that this would strike a cord in Azriel. A tit for a tat, he came after you, the least he could was target him the same way.

“ Shut your mouth!” He snaps, the two now facing one another.

“Did I hit a soft spot?” Eris challenges.

” Don’t you ever speak of Mor in that manner-“Azriel growls.

” Yet that’s exactly what you had done to Y/N? No? Did you forget already? Did you take one too many hits to that bat brain of yours-“Azriel shoves Eris forcing him back causing him to bare his teeth “- You made her feel as though she were only good to keep your bed warm, you left her unsatisfied, craving more than just sex, a companionship! -”

“ -She asked to be with me! She asked to be a means of release! She hated seeing me pawn over someone else! So I let her be as in love with me as she was.-” Azriel continues on shoving back Eris, who was waiting for a moment of violence to come.

” -You let her believe you were going to give her more!-“The conversation becomes more heated by the second.

” -I had too!” Azriel argues as if his words really mattered as if manipulation was the only option left for him to pick. The crowd in the room starts to murmur, the music abrupting to a halt, all eyes were on the pair. You and Rhys made eye contact for a brief moment before the two of you moved into action. The Lady of the court, Eris’s mother, encourages everyone to keep dancing, to let the music keep playing. A distraction.

“ No you didn’t, you could’ve told her how you felt instead of leading her down a path that you weren’t going to follow. If I were you Shadowsinger I’d save the manipulation tactics for the battlefield not for the bedroom, at least there we know you can get the job done” He bites back bis fists clenched ready to strike. Azriel clenched his jaw and his hand curled in a tight hold, waiting to see who’d throw the first punch. You were faster, you placed yourself between Eris and Azriel. You placed a hand on Eris’s chest and one outward to Azriel. Rhys and Cassian were right behind you moving to Azriel’s sides. They too also held their hands up trying to stop Azriel from making a mistake.

“ Az” Cassian warns.

“Go back home to Velaris, take the others with you. I have to fix the mess you made.” Rhys orders. He nods his head at Cassian who with the help of Nesta drag him out of the room.

“ I’m so sorry” Feyre apologizes.

You offer her a reassuring sad smile. “ It’s okay, I thank you all for coming. I appreciate it” She nods at you returning your expression, her eyes shooting to Rhys who gave her a sweet smile, telling her in his own way to go back with their family. Your heart shatters a little at the sight of your friends leaving. You wished you had spent more time with them. And you wished that there wasn’t so much hatred between the two groups, even with the alliance.

“ This will not happen again, I can assure both of you. I do hope that you can forgive my spymaster” Rhys says as Lucien pulls Eris away from you, giving him the opportunity to cool down.

“ I hope it doesn’t happen again..as for my mate he can be protective and I’m sure you understand what that’s like” you replied.

“ I do and for that I apologize. I’d hate it if this was to be the reason we lose our greatest ally.” Rhys, ever the politician.

“ I’m glad we can agree on the same point. We need each other more now than ever. This cannot be our downfall”

“ Of course.” Rhys bows slightly, offering you that comforting smile you missed so much. You turned to look over at your mate and his brother. Eris smacked Lucien’s hands away who only glared at him. You sighed deeply, one of ease and relief. You looked at your mate crossing your arms.

“Don't-.” Eris says as fixed his cufflinks after he had shoved Lucien away from him, who now found himself at the food table.

“-I was only going to say thank you.” You gave him a reassuring smile, Eris lifted his eyes to yours. He honestly expected you to rip him a new one. He was surprised, caught off guard, and he felt better. You uncrossed your arms wrapping them around his neck. Eris immediately wound his arms around your hips, pulling you as close as possible.

“He had no right to speak about you the way that he had. He came here searching for a fight, I cannot allow such disrespect in my home and to my mate. You don’t need to thank me. I’d do anything to protect you.” His eyes flickering between yours.

“He walked out of here unscathed, untouched. He had to be dragged back home. But you-you spoke with such strength and courage. You dared him to cross paths with you. You didn’t need to fight him, your words were sharper. You didn’t let him win” Eris’s heart warmed at your words. His chest swelling with love, with respect and with passion. He couldn’t have imagined anyone else by his side other than you. He tilts his head down slightly, capturing your lips with his, he kisses you with such intensity as if to thank you for thanking him. For loving him, for accepting him and for understanding him.

The two of you pull away briefly, your foreheads touching, he whispers to you“ Quite the high lady you’re becoming” the two of you giggle.

“ You’re becoming quite the hero” You replied, Eris shook his head, both of your shoulders shaking slightly as the two of you continued your giggling. Eris loved you more than you could’ve ever imagined. He was quick to defend you, he'd come to your aid you if you needed it. He was there every step of the way. He cared for you deeply, he wasn’t ever okay with anyone hurting you. He hated what Azriel did to you. You looked up at him with so much adoration and love, he cherished it, held it close to his heart. Eris presses a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes fluttered closed, Eris’s mother could be seen making her way over to you both. Now that was someone he knew would never hear the end of it.

[butterymangowrites]

dad thief

paring: dabi / todoroki touya x fem reader

warnings: smut, non-con/dub-con, cum eating, creampie, childhood friends to enemies to whatever this is, obsessive dabi, possessive dabi, jealousy, non-con filming, blackmail, endeavor is a shitty dad but you both have daddy issues, child abuse, domestic violence, hate sex

word count: 2.5k

Even captured by one of the most dangerous villains in Japan, you still had the audacity to smirk. He wanted so much to wipe it off your face, make you sullen, make you regret. You had always been a pain in the ass, a bitch, and a dad thief.

—

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked. 

What Touya saw was you, a girl his age whom he had been friends with for a while now, wearing an Endeavor’s T-shirt two times your size. “That’s my dad on your shirt.”

“I know.” You smirked, didn’t tell him you stole it from someone, just like all the merches you had at home because you couldn’t afford to buy one. “He’s my fav hero after all.”

Having a fire quirk, you related so much to the number 2 hero. Meeting Touya was the best coincidence you could ever hope for.

But Touya hated it, your quirk was powerful, not more than his, but so much more stable. At Least you didn’t get burnt every time you tried to use it. His dad looked at you like you were a gift from God, given to him to replace his own incompetent children. You had become Endeavor’s favorite in such a short time. 

—

“So you’re still my dad’s simp,” the white haired villain said, looking at you from an old couch where he lay down, shirtless, his torso patched up with staples holding burnt skins to the body so they didn’t fall off. He looked like a doll that the owner didn’t want to throw away and chose to keep repairing. 

“Rich coming from someone with daddy issues.” Standing at his feet, you peered down at him. He had changed a lot, appearance-wise. Half of his face was burnt and stapled just like his body. With black hair, piercings, and impassive demeanor, he became someone else entirely, fooling everyone even his own family—he became Dabi. But those eyes, those were Touya’s eyes. “That was a desperate act back there, airing the plot twist on tv and shit.” 

It was amazing how quickly you got on his nerves. Dabi pounced from the couch and grabbed you by the neckline of your hero costume. You staggered forward from his pull but let him drag you to the couch and down onto him who now had his head back on the armrest. His hands adjusted your legs to straddle his waist, positioning you to his heart’s content. Your skin-tight suit was for sure fireproof; yet, you still felt heat emitted from the bare skin of Dabi’s naked torso. 

Seeing him face to face this close, you couldn’t help but tease your childhood friend a tad. “Fuck, you’re ugly. No wonder your dad didn’t remember you.” 

“This mouth of yours,” Dabi tsked, placing his index finger on your hot lips, “fucking needs to be shut.” 

He lifted the finger from your lips to point to the opposite side of the couch where a TV should be if there was one. Instead, there was a camcorder set up on a tripod, an ominous red dot blinking rhythmically. 

“It’s recording us,�� Dabi said. “I’m gonna fuck you on it.” 

“Tsk, tsk. What happened to dates and dinners?”

His expression shifted dangerously. And you yelped, loud, when he suddenly snaked his hand around to unzip your suit from the back. 

“Touya, knock it off!” You swatted his hand. But too late, you already felt the suit loosen. 

“As I was saying,” Dabi continued, “I’m gonna film us fuck.” 

Heat crawled onto your back when he slipped his hand under the open suit and started to skim around. 

“But since I’m a generous man, I’m giving you two choices.” He tapped on your back once before saying, “Be a good girl and I’m keeping the footage”—he tapped twice—“or not, and I’m sending it to Endeavor’s office so he can see his favorite intern getting dicked up, down, six ways to Sunday by his eldest son.” 

His body heated up a little more; you knew it was from excitement. 

“Do you think you’ll still be his favorite after that? I don’t think so if you asked me.” 

You were… speechless.  

“Come on, am I really ugly?” He nudged his face against yours, which was so Touya of him. “I’ve heard people say I’m still hot, baby.” 

“Yeah, hot like the fire that burnt you this bad,” you countered.

He guffawed. “So, what will it be?” 

You thought about burning him, burning this whole place down, but your flame was no match for his. Having experienced what he could do firsthand on the battlefield, you would not withstand his flame—you would die. 

Contrary to his belief, you were not Endeavor’s favorite. That spot belonged to Shoto since the day he was born. Touya was just dumb and blinded by jealousy and prejudice to actually see it. You were nothing compared to Shoto—you and Touya were nothing compared to the half-hot half-cold prodigy. But Touya was not totally wrong, you still wanted to be his dad’s number 1, not wanting to disappoint the only man you considered a father figure.

But fuck if you didn’t hate Touya. “I’m not choosing shit.”

So he chose for you, tongue plunging down your throat while his cock drove in and out of your cunt. Standing in front of the camera, Touya stood behind you with his scarred arms around your midsection, forcing your whole body tight against him. Every short thrust made your breasts jiggle and eyes roll. The camcorder got it all—the visual, the sound. Even with Touya’s kiss shutting you up, you weren’t really silenced. And without it, you were loud. 

“Fuck baby, you like it that much?”

You would have closed your mouth if your hands weren’t stuck in his suffocating embrace. “Not—that good.”

Touya chuckled. “Yeah?”

He quickened the pace, and your brain almost shut itself down. 

“Stop,” you cried, legs starting to shake. That was when he really stopped. That dickhole.  

“This is what bad girls get.” He said, withdrawing his cock but still not releasing you from his clasp. When he walked back to the couch, he hauled you with him like a child hauling a big bag of toys to his secret lair. 

Guiding you to sit on him—again—you still faced the camcorder. 

“Dad, are you watching? Look at me. Am I doing good?” One of his hands mapped a path up to fondle your tits, switching left and right to pay his utmost attention into making you squirm out of your human seat. 

But he didn’t plan to let you go. His other free hand jerked his cock once, twice, before rubbing it on your still-wet pussy. No one was gonna believe you did not want this. Endeavor would not. 

“Have you fucked her yet? Do you want to?” He grinned against your temple. 

You swore out a soft ‘fuck’ when his cock eased its way in. It was burnt, too. Not as bad that it had to be patched up, but you could feel the bumpy texture against your moist walls.

“You know my dad is an abusive bastard, right? Fucking neglecting his own wife and children. He beat mom, too, have you heard? Did he have the guts to tell you that?” he said, tilting your head up so you could see him looking down at you. You were so hot he prayed his dad hadn’t touched you, he might never let him, too good of a pussy to share. 

“He’s not a good replacement for your scumbag of a father, trust me.” 

—

“I can do that, too,” you said from behind the bush you had been hiding, starling the boy you directed the sentence to. He jumped. You laughed. You had been watching him practice for almost half an hour. He looked sort of tired now. 

“Look,” you said before doing the same trick you saw him do, making a flame dance on one hand and moving it to the other hand like you were juggling a ball. 

He frowned, not looking very impressed, but didn’t take his eyes off you. 

That was the first day you met Touya—making friends with him—and after that, coming out to meet him almost every day. Soon after, you got to meet his family. Your eyes almost bugged out of their sockets when you saw who his dad was. 

The big man spared you only a glance when Touya first introduced you to him. The second glance, however, came after Touya said you had a fire quirk. 

Shoto was only two at the time, too young for his dad’s intensive training. 

Two years later, when Endeavor asked if you wanted to train with his youngest who had just turned four and you said yes, Touya didn’t talk to you for three days. On the fourth day, he didn’t let you in when you rang the doorbell. 

“Go away, dad thief.” 

But you didn’t want to. The Todoroki house was your paradise, the highlight of your day. Since Touya brought you to his home, you had been here everyday, spending your weekdays’ after-school time and whole days on weekends playing with the Todoroki siblings—Fuyumi, Natsuo and Touya himself if he wasn’t a bitch, complaining that his sister and brother hogged you all for themselves, and leaving dramatically to play alone, expecting you to follow. 

He was possessive like that. One time, he locked you in a room to only play with him. Rei���his mom—had to use a spare key to unlock the room and scolded her eldest. 

Now, the table had turned. Since your weekdays’ playtime had turned into training sessions, Touya was shunning you. 

“Go back to your shitty father,” he said through the crack of the side door before slamming it to your face. 

He played dirty mentioning your dad like that when he was the one who followed you to your ratty excuse of a home one day and saw your dad slap you on the face for no reason. It was a low blow since he was the one who interfered just before your dad used his fire quirk on you and your mother who was trying to shield you from the oncoming flame. Despite being the one who helped you that day, he used the fact that you had one of the worst dads a child could ever ask for to hurt you. You hated him so damn much for that. 

“Just you wait, Touya. One day, I’ll really steal him from you,” you said to the closed door, knowing he was still behind it. Tears were flowing down your face, but it was alright because Touya would not see them—because he would not open the door for you, and you resented him for it. 

How… wrong you were. 

“No.” 

Just when you walked back to the hand-me-down bicycle you got from the person you were most angry at at the moment—he was kind for that; you had to admit—you heard him before you heard the door open. Wiping the tears off your face, you turned to him and haughtily asked, “No what?” 

Touya didn’t answer. His eyes were locked onto your shirt. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked.

“That’s my dad on your shirt.” 

“I know.” You smirked. “He’s my fav hero after all.”

Touya scrunched his nose, his hair that used to be red at the ends was now full white. Then all of a sudden, he jumped you. 

You shrieked. It must have been a jaw-dropping scene for a passerby if there had been one—two 12-year-old children grabbing each other’s hair on the floor, fighting with their little hands. 

“Get off me!!” you screamed, but Touya who successfully got on top of you just laughed maniacally. Looking back, he sounded a bit too psychotic for a child. 

He shouted into your ear, “Dad is mine! Dad is mine!” 

From the corner of your eyes, you saw someone’s feet. 

“Touya-nii! Stop!” It was Fuyumi. “Mom, help!” 

The hands in your hair didn’t relent one bit despite the call for an adult who was soon surely going to rip his ears off if he didn’t get off you, but he did quiet down. 

“You’re mine, too,” he said softly into the ear he was shouting into before. “Dad’s not home today. Let’s play. You and me, okay? No Fuyumi-chan and Natsuo-kun. Just you and me.” 

The next thing you knew, he was pulled off you by his mother. Touya didn’t shed a tear when Rei spanked him in the ass, asking why he did that to you. She told him to apologize. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You knew he wasn’t. But he sounded genuine enough Rei let him off with only a one-week-no-tv punishment.

—

To you, he had been… off since that day. Today, he was full-blown unhinged. 

Your legs were spread wide over his own open ones, basically preventing you from trying to close them and hide your fucked pussy from the camcorder. His hands were busy, one grasping at your waist for leverage while the other circling over your clit. You were all bare to the camera with Touya’s cock ramming in and out, concentration drifting like smoke in the wind, so close to coming. 

“Such a good cunt. I’ll fuck it everyday”—he panted—“come in it. You can count on me.” 

“Don’t—” 

“I’ll be a good boyfriend. Will never fucking stray,” he prattled on. “Won’t hit you. Won’t be like dad. You’ll see.” 

You tried to hold it, but the hand on your clit just didn’t stop, pushing you to the top and making your hips buck up uncontrollably Touya had to push you down so his dick didn’t slip out. You felt the throbbing when he spilled inside. The little shit really did it—he creamed your pussy. 

“Want a taste?” Touya proposed, his hands spreading and closing your pussy to see the white thick cream dripping out. 

“Don’t be disgusting.” 

“Bet you drink his cum just to please him.” 

“I never fucked your dad, you villain scum.” 

“Mmmm.” You turned your head just in time to see Touya licking his fingers clean. When he saw you look, the menace put his tongue out to show his own cum on it. You knew what he would do next without a word being said and tried to turn away, but Touya grabbed your cheeks, stilling you, then he squeezed to force your mouth open.

His tongue invaded, feeding you his cum, and ending with a kiss. He took his time, like he had a lot on his hands, making sure you swallowed every drop. 

“Not even sucking his dick?” He continued questioning you. 

“No, you sicko.” You felt your body temperature rising, quirk activating, but didn’t let the fire come out. 

“Bet you thought about it, dad thief.” 

“Bet YOU thought about it, obsessive patchy bitch.” 

He laughed with his whole chest, shaking your whole body with it. “Guess we both ain’t shit, baby.”

[yoongiseesawmp3]

banana pancakes - seungcheol (m)

summary: when the city girl comes back home for the summer, the cocky diner owner tasks himself with making her feel welcome. 

word count: 12k

warnings: not quite enemies to lovers, more like annoyance to lovers; smut, afab reader, gendered nicknames (mostly just city girl), oral (m receiving)

masterlist

seungcheol was in the middle of a lunch rush when you walked in. you looked frazzled and out of place, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. he almost dropped someone’s blt because he couldn’t stop staring. you however couldn’t figure out who in this dingy place could possibly be the owner, so you awkwardly stand to the side at the counter while you squint at the specials board.

“what’ll you have?” cheol asks as he rounds the bar, ending up at the cash register in front of you. “speak quickly.”

“excuse me?” you ask, taken aback.

“it’s busy, you’re holding up the line, order now or i’ll pick for you,” he tries again and you blink at him in shock. people in the city were rude, sure, but not like this.

“fine, order for me then,” you say as you hand him your card. “and add a black coffee. all of this is to go.”

“i scared you off so soon?” cheol smirks as he rings you up. “total’s two dollars and fifty cents.”

“uh, that’s all?”

“meal’s on me,” he shrugs. “won’t charge you for it if it ends up being something you don’t like.”

“oh, well, thanks,” you say as you sign the receipt. “when will it be ready?”

“when it’s ready,” cheol replies like it’s obvious. 

“wonderful service here,” you say as you roll your eyes. you take a seat at the newly open stool at the counter and cheol tsks.

“seats are for customers who eat here,” cheol says while he gets to work with your coffee. 

“make the food faster and i’ll leave sooner,” you counter back. cheol nods, smiling to himself as he goes to the back. when he reemerges he’s got one container in his hand that he drops off to you before skillfully helping everyone else at the counter. you watch in quiet appreciation, noticing how his buff chest makes his plaid shirt fight for its life to not pop open. you see bits of curly hair peeking out from under the backwards cap on his head, and-

“that’s the last of it,” cheol says as he drops another container off in front of you. he comes back a moment later with a bag and starts packing it up for you as he explains, “had some left over banana pancakes from breakfast, hope you’re fine with that even though it’s past noon.”

“no, that’s great,” you sputter out, “that’s my favorite kind actually.”

“noted,” cheol says as he holds your gaze for a moment. “then i made you some turkey sausage to go with it. hope it’s worth the two bucks.”

“i’m sure it will be,” you say as you grab the bag. “thanks-”

“cheol,” he smiles. “and you are?”

“y/n,” you reply. “you new here?”

“nope, but you are.”

“no i’m not,” you shake your head. “i grew up here. i’m just home for the summer.”

“from school?” cheol questions, wiping down the counter.

“my big city job, actually,” you reply. “i just quit so i need to live at home for a bit while i find a new one.”

“well it’s nice to meet you, city girl,” cheol smiles. “enjoy the food.”

“bit of advice?” you ask as you stand up, sipping your coffee. “fix the attitude. good coffee though.”

-

“and then he ended up paying for my food,” you finish explaining to your best friend, vernon. as soon as you left the diner you headed to vernon’s house (where he still lives with his parents - don’t mention it, it’s a touchy subject). 

“yeah, seungcheol’s a weird guy,” vernon replies as he takes another one of your pancakes and folds it up like a taco. “at least you got free food though, that means he likes you.”

“doubtful,” you roll your eyes. “he seems like a dick.”

“oh then he’s just your type,” vernon teases, and you kick at his lap. he’s the definition of bachelor living at home, he has the whole basement of his parent’s house to himself and there’s really just a bed, a couch, and a full set of instruments set up in the corner for his band that practices here. you’re currently sat on the couch, a movie long forgotten on vernon’s projector. you couldn’t stop talking about cheol, or thinking about him, since you left the diner. he really irked you today. “whatever. pretend you don’t think he’s sexy, but i think someone’s got a little crush.”

“screw you,” you laugh as you snatch the take out container from his lap. “you don’t get to eat my food anymore.”

“seungcheol does deliveries, you know,” vernon says coyly. “i could call him and he’ll be here in minutes...”

“eat all you want, just save me a pancake.”

-

after your debrief with vernon, you finally headed back home. you needed the time with your best friend to catch up and get some much needed insight on your current situation. you were staying at home for a while, yes, but you couldn’t decide how long that would last. you had quit your job in the city because you were burned out, and you didn’t know what was coming next. but the little bit you’ve spent at home has reminded you of how easy life here can be. you can’t decide if you need to refresh your city life, or just stay at home and slow it down for a while. vernon wasn’t much help, he just reminded you of all the things you’d miss about both places, and then not so subtly mentioned that cheol only exists in your small town. 

cheol. he’s a mystery to you, but thinking about him makes your blood boil. unfortunately, vernon told you, his diner is the only edible place in town right now. you don’t feel like cooking for yourself tonight, and your parents are currently out of town on vacation, so if you want a meal then you’ll have to face the bully in a baseball cap again. 

once you’ve unpacked at home, you collapse onto the couch in your living room, ready to relax and maybe order a pizza to keep you from seeing cheol again so soon. you spend a few minutes channel surfing only to be interrupted by your stomach growling, and you realize your fate is set. you’ll have to go back to the diner. 

when you walk through the door, you’re met with the ding of the bell and silence. there’s only one other person there, sitting at the far end of the counter with his food. at the sound of the bell cheol emerges from the back, wiping his hands and smiling. 

“back so soon, city girl?” he asks. “sit anywhere, i’ll bring you a menu.” wordlessly you find the stool you sat at earlier today and sit, smiling awkwardly at the only other customer here. he nods back, a patch of ketchup on the side of his lips. when cheol comes back he passes you a menu and asks the man, “all good hoshi?”

“you got anymore ketchup?”

“check your face.”

“charming, isn’t he?” hoshi, apparently, asks you. you chuckle politely and look at the menu, but hoshi’s interest is piqued. “sorry, what’s your name?”

“city girl!” cheol shouts from the back, and you shoot him a glare he doesn’t see.

“i’m y/n,” you reply. “nice to meet you. aren’t you friends with seungkwan?”

“i am! how do you know him?” 

“we went to school together,” you explain, and hoshi nods. 

“you’re vernon’s big city friend,” hoshi connects the dots. “what brings you back home?”

“need to save money while i look for a new job,” you tell him, and cheol joins you at the counter just then.

“saving money and yet you’ve eaten here twice today?”

“well you gave me my food for free earlier, so i thought i could get another deal,” you joke. 

“she got free food?!” hoshi shrieks. “i come here every day! i keep your lights on! i deserve a free meal every once in a while!”

“yeah, but you’re not a pretty girl, hosh,” cheol replies. 

“oh, i see what’s going on here,” hoshi smiles knowingly. you sputter trying to defend yourself, but cheol won’t let you. 

“do you know what you want?” he asks you, “or you want me to pick again?”

“how’s the fried chicken?” you ask hoshi instead. 

“oh, to die for,” he tries to convince you. “but if cheol really likes you then you should ask for something off menu-”

“gross,” you interject.

“-like pasta, he makes a killer carbonara-”

“hoshi,” cheol warns, and you hide your smirk seeing the blush on cheol’s cheeks. when he turns back to you it deepens because he sees how you’re staring at him. he clears his throat and asks, “so? chicken or not?”

“i’ll do the chicken and potatoes please,” you say with a nod. “and another coffee too.”

“it’s almost 8pm,” cheol stops. “you’re gonna drink coffee at 8pm?”

“you’ve still got some in the pot,” you nod toward the machine. “just give me what’s left and you won’t have to throw it out. i’m the only crazy person who drinks coffee this late apparently.”

“you’re never gonna sleep,” cheol continues to scold you.

“i will, promise,” you insist. “now give me the coffee, please. i’m a little tired of you telling me what i can and can’t have here.”

“this is riveting,” hoshi says with his chin on his hand, leaning over the counter as he watches your interaction. with cheol safely in the back, he scoots a couple seats closer and asks, “so do you think he’s hot?”

“excuse me?”

“it’s alright, you can tell me,” he says. “your secret is safe with hoshi.”

“i’m sorry, i don’t-”

“stop bothering my customer, man,” cheol says as he returns with a clean coffee mug. he pours what’s left from the pot and passes it to you, your hands brushing as he passes it over. “you tired or something? why’re you drinking coffee so late?”

“it’s 8pm, this isn’t late,” you say before taking a sip. “and it’s good coffee. sorry i wanted to give you money.”

“can i get the check?” hoshi asks, interrupting the way seungcheol was trying to commit the shape of your lips to memory. “i’ll leave you two alone.”

“no, you’re fine,” you say quickly, but cheol is faster and has the check and change ready for hoshi. he politely waves goodbye to you both, and after the ding of the bell the diner falls silent. cheol leans back against the counter with the coffee, watching you. “shouldn’t you be in the kitchen?”

“nope, i was waiting to see if anything interesting was gonna happen out here,” he replies as he crosses his insanely buff arms over his chest. 

“sorry buddy, but i’m all good,” you say as you take another sip of coffee. “just incredibly hungry.”

“then let me help you with that,” he says with a smirk before disappearing. you notice that your cheeks are hot, probably from how enraging seungcheol is. no other reason. 

-

one thing you’re determined to do while you’re home is clean out your childhood room. your mom has been complaining about how much junk you and your siblings have left here over the years, and you’re tired of the passive aggressive comments whenever you come visit. consider it an early birthday present mom, the old toys and decaying art projects will be gone before you know it!

it takes a few days for you to sort through all the junk, throwing out what’s unusable and making countless trips around town to donate the rest. you’re finally left with the bones of your room: a few childhood mementos you can’t bear to part with, the twin bed you’ll be sleeping on for the next few weeks, and a broken desk you can’t seem to move on your own. you’ve been frustrated by the thing more times than you can count, so you cave and call vernon for help.

“come move my desk for me,” you say as soon as he picks up.

“hello?” he replies, confused.

“hey,” you continue. “you know the desk in my room that’s been broken since high school? help me move it, please.”

“why?”

“because it’s annoying.”

“just like you?”

“please vernon?” you whine. “it’s too heavy for me on my own and my car isn’t big enough to drive it somewhere.”

“fine. you owe me pizza though,” he says as you hear keys jingling in the background. “be there soon.”

eventually there’s a knock at your front door, and you slump up from the couch grumbling about how late vernon is. you open the door, ready to complain about his punctuality, only to be met with cheol’s smiling face.

“hey city girl, heard you need a truck?” he asks as he leans forward, peeking into your house. “where’s the desk?”

“um, my room?” you reply, and you watch in shock as cheol walks in and makes himself at home. “where are you going?”

“to your room?” he turns around, hands in his pockets but smirk still perpetually on his lips. “vernon said you’d have it ready to go but i guess he didn’t realize how spoiled you must be.”

“spoiled?” you scoff, pushing past him to your room. “because i can’t move a desk by myself?”

“it’s alright, everyone has flaws,” cheol nods as he follows you like an eager puppy. he stops at the doorway to your room, taking it in. he tries to hide a smile when he sees the baby blankets and dolls strewn across your bed. “you gonna introduce me to your friends?”

“shut up,” you snap. “come help me with this.”

“can’t even give me a please?” he sighs, coming into your room anyway. he joins you at the desk, facing you at the other end. he gets a good grip and then says, “lift on three. one, two, three,” he huffs. it’s astounding how easy it is to move with cheol’s help, and he backs out of your room carefully to make sure you don’t trip. 

“so where’s vernon?” you ask, carefully walking the desk out of your house. you get to the front steps and cheol stops.

“you think you can get it down the stairs?” he asks. “don’t trip.”

“i’ll be fine,” you insist. “answer my question.”

“vernon doesn’t have a truck.”

“i didn’t say i needed a truck,” you grumble. “this could’ve fit in his van.”

“that broken down thing?” cheol chuckles. “i’m pretty sure the extra weight would make the car stop altogether. vernon felt the same, that’s why he asked me so nicely to come help a damsel in distress.”

“you’re obnoxious, did you know that?” you ask him as he guides you to lift the desk up into the back of his truck. 

“and you’re stronger than you look,” he comments slyly, watching as you straighten your clothes. “so where’s this going?”

“the dump?” you reply. “thanks for hauling it, i guess.”

“hey, whoa,” he whistles as you start turning back to your house, “where are you going?”

“inside?” 

“you’re not coming with me?” he asks with a pout. 

“you’re a big boy, you can manage on your own,” you reply with a similar pout.

“no, seriously,” he says, “you gotta come with me to tell me where this goes.”

“i don’t care, just drop it off somewhere,” you reply. 

“hm, and you said you weren’t spoiled,” cheol tsks as he climbs into his truck. “whatever. see you later city girl.”

“wait!” you shout over the sound of cheol’s truck starting. he rolls the window down to hear you better, an eyebrow quirked as he waits for you to go on. “um, let me grab my keys. i’ll be right back.”

“sure thing,” he smirks. “i’ll keep the seat warm for ya.”

-

“are you sure this is the right way?” cheol complains. you’ve circled this block three separate times, so sure that the donation center is somewhere on this street. 

“if you would just slow down,” you whine. “i was here the other day, i know it’s close by.”

“oh, so you can do things on your own?” cheol teases, and you cross your arms. “sorry, that was rude.” silence. “are you giving me the silent treatment now?” nothing. “god. you’re irritating, you know that?”

“hm right back at ya,” you reply. “turn left up here.”

“why?” 

“because i said so.”

“fine,” cheol grumbles. as soon as you’re around the corner you see the donation center and you point toward the drop off, already unbuckling your seatbelt so you can be out of the car ready to unload before cheol even puts it in park. “hey, be careful,” he scolds, following behind you and lowering the tailgate. “you’re annoying but i don’t want you to get hurt on my watch.”

“i’ll be fine,” you bark, and cheol holds his hands up in defense. 

“did i say something?” he asks as you work together to bring the desk back down. “you’re touchy.”

“you’re getting on my nerves,” you explain, “so let’s move this desk and get this lovely afternoon over with, hm?”

“so nice to someone doing you a favor, sweet thing,” cheol replies, and your grip on the desk almost slips at the new nickname. 

“what was wrong with city girl?”

“i like to spice things up,” cheol smirks, knowing he’s getting to you. once you drop the desk off he rushes back to the truck to open your door for you, offering his hand so you can easily climb back into the cab. you ignore him and pull yourself up, and cheol gives your ass an appreciative glance. you let him close the door for you, and you stew silently as he closes the tailgate and gets back into the driver’s side. “you all buckled?”

“yep.”

“you gonna be a brat the whole ride back?”

“depends, you gonna call me spoiled and irritating some more?”

“depends,” cheol smiles, and you let your head fall back onto the headrest with a groan. you drive on for a while in silence, and you try to sneak a glance at cheol without him noticing. he’s wearing a new flannel, the sleeves folded up to his elbows to show off his strong arms. his hair is still hidden by that cap, and you’re tempted to ask him to take it off so you can see the curls you know are hiding underneath. “whatcha lookin at?”

“you,” you don’t try to hide it. “just trying to figure out how someone the town seems to love so much can be such a jerk.”

“when you make the best food for miles people tend to overlook the attitude problems.”

“so you admit it?” 

“admit what?”

“that you have an attitude?” you ask, leaning forward to look at him better.

“yes, i do,” he says with a sidelong glance at you. “and the sooner you admit to yours the sooner i think we’ll get along.”

“in your dreams.”

“so you want me to dream about you?” 

“oh my god,” you groan, letting your head fall against the dashboard. “drop me off here, i’ll walk home.”

“no can do, city girl, there’s lots of scary things round these parts.”

“you’re one of them,” you say with an accusing finger pointed cheol’s way. 

“but i’m a sweetheart,” he says innocently. “and we’re almost back at your house, take a chill pill.”

“alright dad,” you grumble. there’s another beat of silence before you quietly mumble, “thank you, by the way.”

“what?” 

“i said thank you,” you repeat. “i don’t know how i would’ve moved that desk on my own. so thanks.”

“you’re welcome, sweet thing,” cheol says happily. “you know, if you got my number, you could ask me for help whenever you need it.”

“i think i can manage on my own,” you say with a nod as cheol pulls up to your house. he puts the truck in park and turns to face you, arms still draped over the steering wheel. 

“well, you know where to find me,” he replies. you think he’s going to say something else, but he just stares at you instead, so you awkwardly clear your throat and say your goodbyes. cheol watches you walk up to your house, making sure you’re safe inside before pulling off. you see him waiting when you turn to close the door, and you shyly wave goodbye before closing it behind you.

-

the next day you find yourself outside the diner again. you had been running around town all morning finishing up errands, and you tried holding out on grabbing a cup of coffee for as long as possible. you don’t know what cheol does to make the coffee so good but you can’t stop thinking about it. the coffee and the man serving it are addictive, and you take a deep breath before opening the door to find an empty diner. no diners, no cheol.

“hello?” you call out to no reply. you slowly walk toward the counter and take your usual seat, looking around. you hear footsteps but you’re not sure from where, and cheol appears from a dark corner at the end of the counter. he looks surprised but pleased to see you, and he takes his time moseying down to stand in front of you.

“well hey there sweet thing,” he greets you. “coffee?”

“please,” you nod. “how did you know? and where did you come from?”

“you’re a creature of habit,” he replies. “and my apartment is upstairs, it was slow so i went up to take a break.”

“really mixing your work life balance living above your business,” you tell him. “that’s not good for you.”

“coffee’s not good for you either,” cheol scolds despite handing you a fresh cup.

“then why do you serve it?” you question, taking the warm mug from him regardless.

“brings in the money,” he answers. “you want anything else?”

“hm, i’m good for now, thanks,” you reply, trying to organize the bags at your feet. cheol stands on his toes, looking over the counter to stare at your stuff.

“shopping till you drop?” he teases, and you groan as you sit back up.

“i promised my mom i would restock the house before my parents came back from vacation, so i had to get some groceries,” you start to explain. “but i forget we live in the middle of nowhere so i had to go to a couple stores to get everything i need.”

“your parents are coming back?” cheol asks, and you hum in response. he leans on the counter, abnormally close to you, before he says, “when do you want me to stop by to meet them?”

“um, never?” you respond. “you’ve probably met them already, why do you have to be weird about this.”

“because i like seeing you squirm,” he smiles before pushing back from you. “if you don’t need anything else i’m gonna go check on something in the back.”

“take your time,” you mumble. you busy yourself with something on your phone and almost miss the plate that cheol slides in front of you. you look up to see him with hopeful eyes, and then you look down to find out he’s giving you a piece of pie. “what’s this?”

“cherry pie.”

“i didn’t ask for pie,” you say, and he rolls his eyes.

“but i’m giving it to you. you could say thanks.”

“what if i don’t like cherries?” 

“tough!” he replies. “i’m not leaving you alone until you take a bite.”

“what if i’m allergic?” you try testing him further, squinting at him. he squints back before he replies, watching you take your first bite.

“then i’ll administer mouth to mouth,” he retorts, making you almost choke.

“that’s not how you stop an allergic reaction,” you cough out, and cheol watches on amused. 

“you want some water?”

“no, i need you ten feet away from me,” you laugh nervously. “i’ll take the check, i should go anyway.”

“but you didn’t finish the pie,” he pouts, and you feel something in your chest tighten. you settle back on the stool and sigh, taking another bite. “so?”

“it’s really good,” you mumble, some crumbs falling to your lips. cheol motions for you to wipe your mouth and, embarrassed, you grab a napkin. “but seriously. you can give me the check, i’ll go ahead and pay and you can go back to doing whatever diner man things you do.”

“i don’t have any diner man things to do right now,” he shrugs. “the check can wait.”

“why do you like messing with me so much?”

“everybody needs a hobby,” cheol smiles. “what do you like to do? throw flaming darts at a picture of me?”

“fascinating that you think i put that much emotion into how i feel about you,” you reply, and cheol mimics getting stabbed in the chest.

“damn, city girl, that hurts,” he hisses. 

“sorry, that was mean,” you backtrack. “i just. i don’t know how to handle you.”

“you can handle me however you want,” he nods. “i can take it.”

“good to know,” you mumble out, focusing on the pie. “thanks for this.”

“you’re welcome,” cheol smirks, watching you intently. “i’ve heard they pair well together. kinda like you and me. the coffee is bitter, like you,” cheol teases, “and the pie is sweet, like me.”

“i’m gonna vomit.”

“not on my counter,” cheol replies with a laugh, and you glare at him as you reach for your wallet. you hand your card over to him and he pretends to swipe it at the register. “should i make fake beeping noises to sell it or will you just let me give you this for free without a fight?”

“you can’t turn a profit if you keep giving people free food you know,” you scold. “not a good business plan.”

“i only do it for you,” he shrugs. “so i think i’m fine. come back whenever want, city girl. i’ll take care of you.”

-

one of the benefits of being home is seeing all of the friends you’ve missed while you were in the city. you’ve missed your movie nights with vernon and seungkwan specifically, so when vernon calls asking what your friday night plans are you’re thrilled to tell him you’re not busy. within minutes of showing up at his house you’re settled on the ginormous bean bag chair you claimed as yours several years ago. the boys are on the couch bickering over which movie to watch, but knowing vernon, he’ll probably have the final say regardless. you don’t care what you watch, you’re just happy to be here. 

“y/n, help,” seungkwan whines. “tell vernon i don’t want to watch cars.”

“it’s his house kwan,” you reply. “if he wants to binge all the cars movies then i’m afraid that’s what we’re doing tonight.”

“and this is why y/n is my favorite friend,” vernon says with a finger pointed in seungkwan’s face. he rolls his eyes and moves vernon’s hand before fighting back.

“if we’re watching cars then i need a drink,” he grumbles, and vernon reminds him that he keeps the minifridge stocked with beer just for seungkwan. he asks if you want one but you decline, too comfortable curled up on the bean bag to sit up just so you can drink. 

“you gonna make it through the movie or are you gonna fall asleep on us?” vernon asks you with a smile. you hum as you think about it.

“depends,” you say with a stretch. “are we eating? food would wake me up.”

“yeah, it’s on its way,” vernon replies and you nod, nuzzling back into the bean bag chair so you can see the screen better. 

“ok,” seungkwan starts as he sits back down, “i will watch this movie, maybe the second one, but i am not watching the third. and vernon i swear to god if you make me listen to life is a highway in that disgusting car of yours-”

seungkwan is cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing, and you assume vernon, the one who lives here, will get up to check. you peek over at him and instead see both of the boys staring at you expectantly. 

“what?” 

“go get the door,” vernon says. “that’s our food.”

“you get it! this is your house!”

“you’re closer to the stairs,” vernon replies. “you know the rules.”

you groan loudly as you get up, and continue groaning as you stomp up the stairs, and you make sure your footsteps are loud and obnoxious as you walk to the front door to make the boys very aware of how annoyed you are. you pull the front door open just as the bell rings again, and you almost shriek when you see who’s on the other side.

“y/n,” seungcheol smiles. “fancy seeing you here.”

“what the hell?” you ask in disbelief. 

“you’re not happy to see me?” he pouts, readjusting the bags of food in his arms. “bummer.”

“i-what?”

“vernon ordered food, didn’t he?” cheol asks, and you nod. “i’m delivering the food. what about this is hard for you to understand?”

“none of it i guess,” you mumble, stepping aside to let him in. “do you need help carrying it?”

“nope, just show me where to go,” cheol says as he waits for you to close the door. you start walking him toward the basement and then stop, making cheol almost run into you. “whoa city girl, warn me next time.”

“s-sorry,” you stutter, “um, i was just gonna say the stairs are kinda narrow, so seriously, give me something to carry. it’ll be easier.”

“if you insist,” cheol sighs, nodding to the bags on top. “take those. if we’re going down stairs they might fall.” you take the bags, but don’t move further. cheol gives you a look and asks, “you forget where you’re going?”

“why are you here?”

“told you,” he smiles. “i’m making a delivery.”

“but the diner, who’s watching it?”

“it’s late, diner’s closed,” he explains. “i’m doing this and then going home.”

“and you always do the deliveries yourself?” you question, finally walking back toward the basement. 

“if they tip well,” he jokes. “and i’d heard you would be here, so that’s an added bonus.”

“you invited him?” you ask vernon as soon as you’re back downstairs. he turns to look at you and smiles when he sees cheol trailing behind you.

“i ordered food from him, yeah,” vernon says. “it’s good to support small businesses, y/n.”

“yeah, y/n,” cheol mimics. you try to help him place the food on vernon’s shoddy table so you and the boys can eat, but he insists, “i got it, sweet thing, you can sit down-”

“no, i’m trying to help so you can leave-”

“seriously, i’m good-”

amidst your bickering you accidentally knock into cheol, making the last part of the order topple over onto the floor. you gasp as you watch the drinks spill all over vernon’s rug, and you reach for the paper towels before kneeling down to clean the mess.

“vernon, i’m so sorry,” you say quickly, trying to dab everything up. you see him and seungkwan spring into action out of the corner of your eye, kwan looking for a real towel and vernon in search of something to handle the stickiness. that leaves you and cheol, who kneels in front of you to help in the meantime.

“you don’t know when to stop,” he mumbles as he frustratedly tears off some paper towels. you stop moving and glare at him as you ask, “what?”

“i said you don’t know when to stop,” cheol repeats, taking the dirty towels to the trash. “you don’t like people helping you. you’re too stubborn.”

“first i’m spoiled, now i’m stubborn?” you ask, still kneeling on the ground. cheol’s standing over you, returning your harsh stare, and for a moment your mind flashes to a very different situation with cheol looking down at you on your knees. “i hate you.”

“you keep telling yourself that,” cheol scoffs, walking away. “does vernon keep soap down here?”

“i mean it,” you say as you stand and follow him wandering around.

“if you hate me then why do you find a reason to see me every day?” cheol asks, spinning around to face you. “you’re either in my diner or in some kind of situation where you need my help-”

“your help?” you spit back. “i’ve never asked for your help.”

“moving your desk? feeding you? cleaning up a mess you made?” he lists off.

“oh you’re so full of yourself,” you mock. 

“is that why i feel like i catch you staring at me whenever you think i’m not lookin?” he asks, and you back down. “no, tell me. am i imagining that? or am i right, are you as obsessed with me as i am with you?”

“you, what?” you whisper, watching cheol intently as he calms himself down. 

“nothing. forget it,” he mumbles as he turns to leave. “enjoy the food.”

-

with your parents coming home, there was less time for you to hang around town and risk running into cheol. that’s a good thing, because you don’t think you could face him again after what happened in vernon’s basement. it was hard enough explaining to him and seungkwan what went down without them exchanging knowing glances, so you’re sure whatever feelings you have and don’t understand are just as obvious to cheol. 

cheol is glad for the break too, but he finds himself hopeful at the sound of each bell, looking up to see if it’s you coming through the door or not. yes, you’re annoying. yes, you made him mad the other day. but he still wants to explore whatever’s happening between you. he knows he can be hard to read sometimes, and you’re the first person in maybe years that he’s felt this way towards. so, in the hopes of bettering himself, cheol buys a self help book. he usually turns to books when he needs a break from reality, either escaping to a fantasy world to neglect the problems in his own or buying a book that will help him with his business. it’s not out of the ordinary to find him reading behind the counter when it’s slow, but he forgets that the eyes everywhere in town make it hard to keep anything a secret. 

people have noticed you suddenly stopped going to the diner, and they’ve seen cheol’s face fall every time someone other than you walks in. hoshi especially is keen to what’s going on, so during his next visit he comes in with a purpose. 

“hey hosh,” cheol greets without looking up from his book. “sit anywhere, be with you in a minute.”

“sure,” hoshi nods, taking his usual spot at the counter. he lets cheol read a second longer before asking, “whatcha got there?”

“a book, you seen one before?” cheol asks as he joins hoshi further down the bar. “what can i get you?”

“i’ve seen a book before,” hoshi replies seriously. “read one? no. and i would like your finest hamburger, please. extra ketchup.”

“not sure why i even ask anymore,” cheol chuckles, writing the ticket anyway. “you always order the same thing.”

“i like what i like,” hoshi shrugs. 

“yes you do,” cheol nods. “it’ll be out soon.”

“gives you more time to read, hm?”

“what? sure,” cheol agrees, scooting the book farther from hoshi so he can’t see what it is. 

“whatcha reading?” he asks anyway, and cheol clears his throat, ready to lie. “something about love?”

“what?” cheol whips his head up, embarrassment in his eyes. 

“there’s a big ole heart at the start of that chapter, are you reading a romance? tell me about it,” hoshi says as he rests his hands on his fists, watching cheol expectantly. 

“it’s um, it’s not about love.”

“no?”

“well, not like that,” he explains. “it’s, um...you have to swear not to repeat this.”

“what’s in it for me?”

“i’ll stop serving you,” cheol warns.

“noted, your secret is safe,” hoshi agrees. “so what is it?”

“it’s a book about relationships, mostly. teaches you how to be in love better,” cheol replies, making hoshi smile.

“and who’s the lucky lady?” he asks, causing cheol to blush.

“let me go check on your food, man.”

“whoever it is i wish you a very happy life together!”

-

you’re able to last well over a week without visiting the diner. it’s been nice not running into cheol, because you haven’t experienced that weird feeling that comes with being in his presence. what’s even weirder though is the new thing you might be feeling. you think you miss him, and you really want to apologize for being such a problem before. 

one saturday you’re up early, and you find yourself pacing back and forth outside the diner. it’s so early the diner isn’t even open yet, but you still trudge to the door and knock quietly, knowing if you don’t address it now you never will. 

you knocked softly enough you hoped cheol wouldn’t be able to hear, but before you can run away you see his broad chest through the blinds. you hear the door unlock, followed by the bell tingling as cheol opens the door. he looks you up and down then grunts, “we’re closed.”

“but i want to come in.”

“you think you’re special, city girl?” he asks with the hint of a smile. 

“i’m a paying customer, you really gonna turn me away?” you reply, and for a moment you’re afraid he’ll actually tell you to leave.

“i’d never turn you away,” he says at last, stepping to the side so you can come in. “take a seat, i just made a pot of coffee.”

“it’s like you knew i was coming,” you smile before melting into a yawn. cheol watches you fondly, placing a menu at your usual seat. “i don’t need a menu.”

“what do you want?” he asks while he makes your coffee.

“um, i uh, i wanted to say i’m sorry?” you answer, awkwardly standing next to the stool. 

“you sure about that?” cheol asks as he hands you the mug. your fingers brush, and you find the confidence to look him in the eyes as you try again.

“i’m aware i can be a little hard to get along with,” you try again. “you’re really nice. and i wasn’t always appreciative of that. so i’m sorry.”

“that’s all?” 

“huh?” you ask, cheeks warming in embarrassment. “i said i’m sorry-”

“i mean, are you done with your apology?” cheol corrects himself, and you nod. “good. because it wasn’t necessary.”

“it wasn’t?”

“no,” he shakes his head. “i like that you’re a little bratty.”

“oh my god,” you roll your eyes, taking a sip of the coffee to avoid saying something ‘bratty’ in response.

“sorry,” he smiles. “i should’ve said i like you just the way you are, city girl. but thanks for smoothing things over.”

“good,” you nod. “now let me pay for the coffee.”

“nope,” cheol shakes his head. “first cup of the day is always free.”

“you’re a liar,” you accuse him.

“and you’re pretty,” he counters, and you choke on your next sip slightly. “what? you disagree?”

“just wasn’t expecting that,” you say as you wipe your face. “can i get a napkin please?” 

“you wanna order too?” he asks as he grabs a napkin for you. “want me to tuck this in your collar?”

“see, i thought we had reconciled and now here you are saying something insufferable again.”

“i’m good at that, aren’t i?” he smiles, passing you the napkin. “so are you staying for a while? you want banana pancakes?”

“please.”

you watch on as cheol finishes opening the diner, getting comfortable enough at your seat that you pull out a book and start reading while you wait for your food. you’re there long enough for other customers to start trickling in, and you’re too immersed in your book to hear the murmurs about you being there so early. what everyone assumes is that you just spent the night there, so the rumors that the diner owner finally found a special someone are traveling through town at the speed of light. you and cheol are both oblivious, so when he brings you your food before serving anyone else there’s several sets of eyes watching the exchange.

“what are you reading?” he asks, wiping off a set of utensils for you as he waits for your response. 

“ah, it’s this book my coworker recommended,” you explain, then correct yourself. “ex-coworker, i guess. keep forgetting i don’t work there anymore.”

“you wanna talk about it?” cheol asks, helping someone else at the counter without pulling his attention from you. you shake your head, and he asks a different question, “tell me about the book then.”

he listens intently as you describe the plot, mentioning that it’s supposed to be a love story and you don’t usually like those. cheol realizes this is the most he’s ever heard you talk, and he briefly thinks about how easy it would be to sit and listen to you all day. he lets you finish before he excuses himself to make rounds through the diner, and you catch your gaze following him wherever he goes. he smirks to himself when he sees you staring, and he may or may not puff out his chest a little just to give you something to look at. 

it doesn’t take you long to finish your food, and cheol keeps the coffee coming. it’s easy for you to lose track of time, and before you know it cheol is stopping in front of you with a deep sigh. you look around and notice the diner is exceptionally empty, and cheol looks exhausted.

“you ok?”

“fine,” he nods, “just a long morning.”

“what time is it?” you ask, searching for your phone.

“almost noon,” he replies, and you can feel your stomach growl. you hope cheol didn’t hear, but of course he did. “you hungry, sweet thing?”

“no, i should really go-”

“stay right there,” he says without giving you a chance to leave. he comes back with a sandwich and fries, and you start to protest when he says, “chill out, this was a pickup order no one ever came for.”

“but i don’t wanna be a bother-”

“y/n,” he says sternly, silencing you quickly. he never calls you by your name. “you’re fine. i like the company.” 

“well i’ll only keep you company if you take a break and eat with me,” you conclude, and cheol has to hide his smile as he wipes his hands off. 

“let me go grab a plate, we can share.” 

when he comes back, you take the empty plate and slide more than half of the fries onto it followed by the bigger slice of the sandwich. cheol tries to complain, reaching for your plate so you’ll end up with the fuller meal, but you push your body weight into him to keep him away.

“cute,” he hums, letting you win. “i am stronger than you, you know.”

“more reason for you to get the bigger plate,” you say as you pop a fry into your mouth. “now eat.”

“so bossy,” he shakes his head as he obeys regardless. then, with a mouthful of sandwich, he asks, “how do you like being home?”

“eh,” you shrug. “it was nice at first because it had been so long, but now i’m kind of antsy.”

“why? missing the city too much?” cheol asks, sliding a napkin to you and motioning to the edge of your mouth. he wants to wipe the mustard off for you, but he doesn’t think that would be a good idea. 

“a little,” you admit. “i miss my friends-”

“you have friends here,” cheol points out.

“i miss having things to do,” you add on. “i still don’t have a job.”

“hey, i could always use a dishwasher,” cheol teases, and you push his arm that keeps brushing against yours. “i get it though. this town’s just too small for you city girl.”

“what’s your story?” you say next, catching him off guard. to clarify, you add, “i mean, growing up you weren’t here. visiting during college i never saw you. then all of a sudden your diner is the hottest spot in town. how’d that happen?”

“you sure you never saw me before you came into the diner?” cheol asks, and you do have to think about it for a second.

“no,” you conclude, shaking your head. “i would’ve remembered your face.”

“i’ll take that as a compliment.”

“you should,” you reply, quirking an eyebrow at cheol when he looks at you surprised. “so when did you move here? how’d you start the diner?”

“my dad grew up here,” he begins. “actually, i think we went to the same university. i was talking to vernon about it and i was a couple years ahead of you, but i was there. i always dreamt of having my own business, i just didn’t know what it would look like. at first i tried setting up a cafe downtown-”

“who’s the city girl now?” you joke, and cheol pinches your arm before continuing. 

“but i failed before i even started. i lost so much money i had to move back in with my dad, and he was thinking about moving back here. so i started looking at places, and planned out the diner,” cheol says with a sweep of his hand. “honestly, i’ve always been afraid of the city. so i think it’s great that you seem to thrive so much there. takes a very special kind of person.”

“i’ll take that as a compliment,” you mimic, and cheol smiles.

“you should.”

“i can’t believe this is so new though,” you say as you look around. “it feels like it’s been here forever. you’ve done a good job making this feel like home, even if it wasn’t part of me growing up here. i come in and i just feel..”

“feel what?” cheol asks, watching you intently, slowly inching closer.

“i feel safe,” you say quietly. “being here, in this town, usually gives me so much anxiety. but i come in here and...all of that goes away.”

“that’s good to hear,” cheol smiles, tentatively reaching for your hand on the counter. he places his larger, callused hand on yours and squeezes, holding your gaze as he says, “you look comfortable here.”

“it’s because of you,” you admit, and if cheol weren’t so close he would’ve missed it. you don’t elaborate, and cheol thinks things may go further, but it’s like he watches you realize what’s going on in real time. “um, i mean, you’ve worked so hard. to make this place nice, to fit in with everything else in the town. it’s um, because of you that everyone likes this place so much.”

“uh huh,” he nods, tongue in his cheek as he watches you pull away. he would try to stop you, but a quick glance at the clock on the wall tells him it’s about to be lunch rush. he won’t be able to talk to you again for another couple hours anyway, so he lets you go, even though he desperately wants to know what would’ve happened if you’d sat there a little longer. 

“um, ok, so, thanks for the food,” you stammer out, making sure you have all of your things. “i really need to go now. you’ll need this stool soon.”

“sure,” cheol agrees, watching you rush toward the door. “hey!” he calls, and you turn with a frazzled look in your eyes. “what are you doin tomorrow?”

“um, nothing, probably,” you reply. “i’ll be here at some point for coffee.”

“ok,” cheol hums. “see you later then.”

-

the next day, a saturday, cheol’s busiest day, there’s a knock at your door around dinner time. you ended up grabbing coffee with vernon at the bakery this morning, so there was no need for a diner visit today. that’s why you’re shocked when you open the door to see a well dressed cheol with a nervous glint in his eyes. 

“hey, city girl,” he smirks. “you free for dinner?”

“am i..what?”

“you never came by the diner today,” he pouts. “so i had to make a home visit. now come on, let’s go eat.”

“um, ok, i just, let me change first?” you ask, and cheol nods. 

“i’ll be here,” he says, content to wait on your porch as you rush back inside to make yourself presentable. you go for something casual, because even though he had on a white dress shirt he was still wearing his signature baseball cap and walmart jeans. he looked incredible, but that was not what you needed to focus on right now. once you’re satisfied with your look, you sneak out the back door near your room and walk up on an unsuspecting cheol kicking rocks in your front yard. his head lifts at the sound of footsteps, and a proud smile graces his features as he says breathlessly, “you look beautiful.”

“i didn’t do anything special,” you try to downplay, but he shakes his head.

“nope, don’t do that,” he scolds. “you look beautiful. end of discussion.” 

“well thank you,” you mumble, and cheol extends his hand for you to take. you shyly lace your fingers in his, and he pulls you forward so he can wrap a hand around your waist. you let out a quiet ‘oh’ as you place your hands on his chest to steady yourself, and when you look up to find cheol staring at your lips you don’t know what else to do other than lean forward and leave a delicate kiss on his. you pull back more nervous than you were before, but cheol looks pleased.

“i was just gonna say your lip gloss was smudged,” cheol says cockily. “but that was nice too.”

“oh then let me take it back,” you joke, and cheol nods, diving back in to kiss you again. “that’s not what i meant-”

“what, you want that one back too?” he asks with a playful look in his eyes. 

“no, we’re good,” you laugh nervously as he starts leading you down the path from your house. “what are you up to?”

“i like you,” he says like it’s obvious. “so we’re on a date. we just kissed, remember? you were there.”

“i was, but, i mean, why?”

“why do i like you?” he asks, “or why did we kiss? because you started that.”

“ok, i’ll try again,” you groan. “why now? why not ask sooner?”

“i didn’t think you liked me back,” cheol replies with a shrug. “but after you spent the day mooning at me in the diner i was sure.” 

“to be fair i wasn’t sure i liked you until i started mooning at you yesterday either,” you admit. 

“i’m glad we’re here now,” cheol smiles, squeezing your hand as you see the diner in the distance. “hope it’s okay for us to eat here?”

“sure,” you shrug. “i hear it’s the best food in town.”

“wait until you’ve tried the place upstairs,” cheol says mysteriously, and you watch as he unlocks the diner and tells you to go toward the hallway that leads to his apartment.

“you closed the diner for this?” you ask, and he blushes. 

“i didn’t want anyone to bother us,” he replies shyly. “plus i didn’t want my place to smell like fries when i invite you over for the first time.”

“you know you could invest in an air freshener,” you tease, letting cheol open his apartment and lead you inside. the sight in front of you takes your breath away and quells whatever smart remark you were about to make. “cheol, oh my god.”

“is it too much?” he questions, tsking as he guides you with his hand at the small of your back. you’re silent, taking it all in, noticing the fresh flowers on the table amongst the plates of food. cheol has made what looks like homemade pasta, and you think you could cry. no one has ever done something so nice for you before, and you turn to cheol to tell him exactly that, but he looks worried. “it’s too much.”

“no, cheol, i can’t believe you did this for me,” you say in disbelief. “i love it.”

“you do?” he perks up, and you assure him everything is great. “here, take a seat,” he pulls a chair out for you and hands you your napkin before grabbing a bottle of wine. “do you like red wine?”

“no,” you shake your head, and cheol laughs. “but i’ll have some tonight.”

“tried to make everything perfect,” he sighs, pouring you a small glass that you take gratefully. “guess i’ll try harder next time.”

“next time?” you question, and cheol hums. you take a sip of the wine before adding, “next time i’ll have to cook for you.”

“i’ll hold you to that,” cheol says as he finally sits down across from you. you both laugh as you notice the flowers obstruct your view, and cheol quickly moves the vase, telling you that the flowers are yours to take home later. 

“thank you,” you say for the first time tonight. “thank you for all of this.”

“anything to make you feel more at home, city girl,” he says. “now try the pasta.”

you tentatively try a piece, noting that the freshness makes it easier to fork it. you watch cheol as you take the bite, and it’s embarrassing how quickly you melt at the taste. you let out a content sigh, verging on the kind of moan that only comes out when you eat the most delicious piece of food you’ve ever had. cheol couldn’t be happier, and you blush when you notice how closely he’s been watching you. 

“how did you learn to cook so well?” you ask with a whine. “it’s not fair.”

“not fair?” cheol laughs, and you nod as you try to get as much pasta in your mouth as possible. “don’t hurt yourself.”

“could you leave us alone please?” you ask, a spot of pasta sauce on your chin. unlike yesterday at the diner, cheol doesn’t back down from reaching across the table to swipe the spot away with his thumb. before he can stop himself he licks it off, meeting your eyes shyly. 

“sorry,” he clears his throat, finally picking up his own fork. 

“you never answered my question,” you try and change the subject. “you study in italy or something?”

“yeah, actually,” cheol replies. when he sees how confused you look he smiles before explaining, “i had a study abroad in italy. it was before i knew i wanted my own cafe or diner or anything, but one of the excursions for the trip was a pasta making class. guess it stuck.”

“okay now i’m jealous,” you tell him. “of you, for going to italy. but then of anybody else who’s ever had your pasta. this is incredible.”

“you’re the only one,” cheol says nonchalantly. 

“why are you so nice to me?” you ask softly, and cheol reaches for your hand across the table. he absentmindedly rubs his thumb over your knuckles as he explains.

“because i like you?” he chuckles. “i already told you that.”

“yeah, but why?” you ask, leaning closer. “why me?”

“i could ask you the same thing,” he replies, but the way you’re staring at him pushes him to answer. “you remember when you came into the diner a couple weeks ago?” you nod, and he continues. “you remember how you were a little rude?”

“if i was rude it was only because you started it,” you grumble, and cheol laughs.

“that’s why i like you,” he says, “you were the first person to take my attitude and give it right back to me.”

“well i’m glad you finally met your match,” you tease. “now can i have my hand back? i want some of that garlic bread.”

“yes ma’am,” he lets go with a final squeeze. he hands you the basket before reaching for the wine, asking, “do you want some more?”

“honestly? no,” you shake your head. “i’m fine with water.”

“i’d offer you something else, but all i have is wine, beer, and a ginger ale that’s been open for two weeks,” cheol tells you. 

“actually i’ll take a beer,” you say, and cheol stares at you with a new look in his eyes. “what, weirdo?”

“careful, you might make me say the l word.”

“lasagna?” you joke, and he rolls his eyes as he gets you a beer. he gets one for himself, and you cheers once he’s sitting back down. he watches you take a sip, admiring the way your lips wrap around the bottle, and then you both go back to eating. talking to cheol is easy, you notice. this is a first date but it doesn’t feel like it, and as the night goes on you get this feeling of dread in your gut that you’ll have to leave at some point. 

“why do you keep looking at the clock?” cheol asks nervously, a smile on his lips to hide the fact that he’s worried you’re bored or ready to go. “you need to leave?”

“no, no, the opposite,” you assure him. “you fed me the best meal of my life, i’ve now had a glass of wine and two beers, so i’m getting tired..but i don’t think i could leave even if i wanted to.”

“you full?” he asks, standing to clear the table. “because i made dessert too.”

“are you gonna force me to eat cherry pie again?” you ask as you try to help him clean. everything you pick up he just takes from your hands, so instead you grab the empty beer bottles and search for his recycling. 

“no, but i made a tiramisu-”

“you made tiramisu?!” you ask, whirling around to see a confused cheol. he nods like it’s nothing, and you groan as you say, “i didn’t think the man of my dreams existed, and yet here you are.”

“i’m the man of your dreams?” he asks, the confusion gone as he sidles up to you to wrap his hands around your waist. “this is great news.”

“hm, suddenly i need to go,” you say as you try to step back, but cheol’s grip tightens and you think you hear the slightest growl come from deep within his chest.

“no.”

“no?”

“no,” cheol confirms, thumbs slipping under your shirt to rub circles onto your skin. “you have to at least try the tiramisu before you go.”

“what if it makes me want to stay even longer?” you ask, and cheol leans in to give you a delicate kiss. without pulling far from your lips, he whispers, “then you stay longer.”

you let your eyes linger on his for a moment before you connect your lips again, your hands moving from their awkward spot on his chest to wrap tightly around his neck. one hand steadies you, and the other tangles into the hair at the nape of his neck that just peeks out from beneath the cap on his head. you groan into his mouth and he can tell it’s a sound of frustration, so cheol pulls back to ask what’s wrong.

“do you ever take your hat off?” you ask him. 

“what?”

“take it off,” you command, and you wait for cheol to loosen his grip on you to reach up and remove his hat. you keep watching as he ruffles his hair, letting down the curls you knew were hiding beneath. “do you keep those hidden from the world because you know it makes you hotter?”

“no, i work in food service, keeps my hair out of people’s lunch,” he says, pulling a shy smile from you. 

“forget i called you hot then.”

“never,” he replies, leaning back down to kiss you. he pulls one of your hands from his neck and places it on his full head of curls, which you take as a sign to play with and tug at his hair as much as you please. cheol deepens the kiss, his tongue darting out to meet yours, and you unintentionally pull his hair harder. he moans into your mouth and you feel yourself shiver, but you pull back for some reason. cheol really growls this time, asking in a low voice, “where ya goin, sweet thing?”

“mind your business,” you scoff as you kneel in front of him, your hands finding the waistband of his jeans. you look up at him and ask, “is this okay?”

“more than okay,” he groans, hands lacing through your hair now. he watches on with hooded eyes as you unbutton his jeans and pull them down just below his ass, slowly tracing over the bulge in his boxers next. you’re mesmerized by the size of it and you’re still not face to face with his cock, and cheol calling your name pulls your attention back in. “having fun?”

“sh,” you hush him, tracing his outline one more time before pulling at his waistband to let it snap against his skin. he hisses and the grip on your hair tightens, his breath quickening above you.

“baby, you’re killing me,” he whispers, so you glare at him as you pull his boxers down, almost getting hit by his boner when it’s finally set free. you’re quick to grab his shaft, spitting on the tip as you hold eye contact with cheol. he lets out a shaky breath, and he tries to burn this moment into the back of his eyelids so he never forgets the way you look on your knees ready to swallow his cock. you pump him a few times, licking at his tip while you hype yourself up to take him into your mouth. 

“you know, i think i’m getting tired,” you tease, trying to push cheol’s buttons. “think i might just head out.”

“you talk a lot,” cheol mumbles. “i’ve got something that could shut you up.”

“oh, you mean this?” you ask, picking up the pace of your hand stroking him until you think he can’t take it anymore. “what if i don’t want to?”

“then i won’t return the favor,” cheol challenges you. he watches, pleased, as you roll your eyes but still lean forward to wrap your lips around his tip anyway. he keeps watching as you inch further down his cock, taking him like it’s nothing. he doesn’t have to worry that he won’t fit, because you keep going until your nose is pressed against his skin. you surprise him by swallowing around him once, then twice, and he uses the grip on your hair to pull you off completely. “shit, baby, you really are trying to kill me.”

“excuse me, i’m doing some of my best work down here,” you say as you wipe the saliva off your chin. “now shut up and let me suck your cock.”

cheol lets you get back to work, but he doesn’t stay quiet. he lets himself moan freely, groaning as he tries to get you closer to him than you already are. every time you swallow around him he cries out, and you can feel yourself getting wetter. you can tell he’s trying to let you lead, his hold on the back of your head strong but reserved. he bucks his hips slightly each time you pull back and suck on his tip, but you want more. you hollow your cheeks and pick up your pace, tears stinging at your eyes as you gag around his cock. cheol has been talking you through it too, telling you how good you’re doing, how sexy you look, how good you’re making him feel. you would be embarrassed at how cock drunk you are right now, tears in your eyes and spit dribbling past your lips, but you’re addicted to the weight of cheol on your tongue and the way his strong hands tug on your hair. you have to pull back to catch your breath, a string of spit connecting your lips to his tip. as you sit back on your calves, cheol takes his cock in his hand, swiping at the spit before smearing it over his tip. he strokes himself lazily as he lets you catch your breath, and when you try to knock his hand out of the way he doesn’t let you get back to work.

“move,” you say sternly. “i’m almost done.”

“yeah, so am i,” cheol laughs. “you’re gonna make me come, city girl.”

“good,” you say proudly, “let me taste it.”

“you’re evil,” he groans, guiding his tip back to you awaiting mouth. he sighs happily when you swallow around him again, and he tentatively thrusts forward to test the waters. when you catch his eye and nod, he knows it’s okay to try again, picking up the pace so he can fuck your mouth. he’s close, and if you wanted a taste that’s what he’ll give you. “i’m about to come baby, you ready?” you moan around him and the vibration sends him over the edge, his release shooting down your throat. it’s sinful the way your eyes roll back as you swallow around him, and cheol thinks in that moment you are the most perfect woman to ever exist. he helps you carefully pull yourself off his cock, and he shudders when the cold air hits him. “you okay, beautiful?”

“all good,” you nod, voice a little hoarse. “i’m tired though.”

“too tired for me to eat you out?”

“in the morning maybe?” you ask, yawning.

“yeah?” cheol asks as he helps you up, and you nod. “you wanna stay the night?”

“can i?” you ask, realizing you didn’t know if he wanted you there or not. “i mean, is that alright?”

“yeah, of course,” cheol says quickly. “i’ll get you some clothes. and water. and a toothbrush.”

“you’re too sweet,” you say shyly, taking the flannel and boxers that he offers you. he leads you to the bathroom where he finds a clean toothbrush, and he disappears while you change so he can get you a glass of water. when he returns he finds you snooping in his medicine cabinet, his lotion on your hands and his fancy floss wrapped around your fingers. “oops?”

“no, make yourself at home,” cheol laughs, handing you the cool glass. “what’s mine is yours.”

“i’m sorry, i got too comfortable,” you say. “sorry. thanks for the water.”

“thanks for the head,” cheol smirks, and you push him slightly as you easily finish the glass. “you want more?”

“no, i’d have to get up in the middle of the night to pee,” you complain. “can i, um, do you mind? if i go to bed?”

“please, baby, you don’t have to ask,” he says, carefully leading you to his room. “i’m gonna wash up, be back in a minute.”

you carefully pull down the blankets on his bed, simultaneously feeling at home yet nervous. you feel comfortable around cheol, sure, but this still feels like a lot all at once. cheol walks in on you contemplating this dilemma that’s only in your head, and he asks with a smirk, “you gonna stare at the bed all night or you gonna get in?”

“sorry,” you mumble, scampering to get under the covers. 

“stop apologizing,” he says as he walks to the other side of the bed. “you look cute in my clothes by the way.”

“you look cute without your hat on,” you counter, and you’re proud to see a slight blush on his cheeks as he lays down next to you, mimicking your posture. he lays facing you with an arm under the pillow, and you suddenly feel overwhelmed. “cheol?”

“yeah?”

“is this too much?”

“what?” he asks, the happy look in his eyes faltering slightly. 

“me spending the night. it’s our first date,” you whisper, suddenly afraid that speaking too loud will make your worries bigger. 

“i don’t mind,” cheol says, pulling for your free hand beneath the covers. “i am very happy to have you here.”

“i’m happy to be here,” you say quietly, and cheol looks at you with an appraising look. 

“you sure about that?”

“i am,” you assure him. “i had an amazing night. i’m glad i could do something nice for you after all that you’ve done for me. but...i’m scared.”

“scared? why?”

“i like you,” you whisper. “i like you a lot. but i’m afraid of what the town will say. i’m afraid i like you too much, and i’m afraid of leaving.”

“then don’t leave,” he says simply. “and who cares what the town thinks?”

“no, like what if i get another job? what if i have to leave?” you ask, and cheol thinks for a moment before he pulls you closer, burying your head in his chest. he kisses the top of your head and whispers against your forehead, “then we’ll talk about it. for now just go to sleep.”

-

you wake up early the next morning, light trickling in through the curtains of cheol’s room. you feel more rested than you’ve been in months, maybe years. cheol is still wrapped around you from the night before, and you chuckle when you see how his lips stay pouted as he snores slightly. you watch him a little longer, pushing a stray curl out of his face, and he softly wakes up. he sees you staring down at him and he smiles, taking your hand and kissing your palm before laying it back on his cheek. 

“morning, sweet thing.”

“morning, handsome.”

“how long have you been up?” he yawns.

“not long.”

“you been staring at me the whole time?”

“mind your business.”

“you hungry?”

“starved,” you reply, sitting up to stretch. “and i need coffee. bad.”

“good stuff’s downstairs,” cheol mumbles, nuzzling back into his pillow. you’re about to ask where when you look down and see he’s back asleep, so you lean down to kiss his cheek before getting up. you slide on some slippers, shuffling downstairs to the diner to make coffee. you forget to check the time though, because the quiet doesn’t necessarily mean that the diner is closed. when you appear in the doorway, obviously clad in cheol’s clothes, and the ten or so customers in the diner turn to stare at you, your heart drops as you scurry back up to cheol’s apartment. you find him in the kitchen scratching his ass, and he turns to say, “where the hell did you go?”

“you said the coffee was downstairs!” you half scream, and realization dawns on him. he’s shocked for a moment, then tries not to laugh.

“how many people saw your walk of shame?” he asks, failing to hide his smirk.

“enough,” you groan as you fling yourself into his arms. “so i’m sure everyone will know by the end of the day, and it won’t just be our business, and if i ever do leave then everyone will blame me for us breaking up, and-”

“whoa, whoa, slow down,” cheol backtracks, holding you at arms length. “you’re freaking out over nothing.”

“but-”

“no! enjoy this!” cheol says, kissing you on both cheeks. “enjoy this for as long as you can, even if you have to leave. but like i said last night, we’ll talk about that if we get there. i just want to date you and see how much fun that can be. it’s nobody’s business but our own.”

“but everyone downstairs saw me in your clothes,” you whine.

“then they’ll know how nice your legs are.”

“i’m being serious,” you push him. “it was embarrassing.”

“would coffee and tiramisu make it better?”

“throw in some banana pancakes and i might just forget it ever happened.”

“deal.”

[reareaotaku]

Enemies 2 Friends to Something More

Summary: When a girl in his class corrects him, Ford decides that he will go through any lengths to one her up like she seems to do so often to him. Tw: Slight NSFW [Would anyone even read NSFW work of him?]

Linktree 4 the People of Palestine

Ford had never been corrected before, because he's never been wrong. So, when he was sitting in class one day and had gone to answer a question, only for a h/c haired girl to correct him. Ford wasn't necessarily mad, more so confused, because he thought he was right. Though, when he went back and checked his numbers, he realized the girl was right. That was fine. Sometimes people were wrong and he's at college to learn, so maybe it's good that there's someone with the same level as intelligence as him.

But then... It happened again. It was a little more embarrassing for it to happen again, but he tried not to think to much about it. That was UNTIL it happened for a third time. That time he was annoyed.

He looked back at you as you smirked down at him. You took joy in his embarrassment, that's what he believed, and it bugged him to his very core. He had to get you back. He wasn't sure how, but he would.

---

Ford stayed up late last night, having finally crafted the perfect question that he knew would stump you. Instead of bringing it up in class, he wanted to talk to you personally, because the question was made for you, no one else.

So, after class, Ford made sure to call you back, having learned your name from his roommate, Fiddleford.

"Y/n!"

You looked back at the sound of your name to; Only to be surprised when seeing it was Stanford Pines.

"Stanford?"

"Call me Ford."

You sigh, looking him up and down. "Okay, F-o-r-d," You stretch out the letters of his name. "What is it you want?"

"Can I not talk to a fellow classmate?"

"Oh, Ford, don't be silly. I know you want something. I see how angry you get when you get something wrong. You clearly want something from me."

He holds his ands up in surrender. "You caught me. I actually... wanted to discuss a-" He tsks. "theory- Question if you will. If you're willing to occupy my company."

"I do like intelligent conversation and you're the most intelligent guy here, so I guess I can give you some time."

He smirks, happy that the trap had been set.

---

He pulls out multiple papers, putting them on the table, before looking up at you. You looked at him confused why he would have so many papers.

He goes on and on about the theory of life and what the purpose of all living things are. While you were confused on the topic, since he wasn't asking for your opinion, you were amazed by his passion on the topic. It seemed he wanted to prove something to you- Prove that he was a genius.

It wasn't like you didn't know that. Everyone that knew Ford or interacted with him knew he was genius, so you were confused why he felt the need to prove it to you.

You thought he was kind of cute. Going on and on. You kind of wanted to fuck him. Your face turned a light pink when the thought entered your mind.

"What do you think?"

"What?" You were caught off guard, since your mind was occupied.

"About life."

"I- uh, never really think about that stuff?"

"You have no opinions about it?"

"Uh, I mean, you've said every thought that I have." You lean in, a stupid smile overtaking your face.

"Yeah?" Ford's face turned a light pink when having your face close to his. He could almost kiss you... Almost... He wanted to- I mean, he admired how intelligent you were, and he felt you were one of the only people he could have a real conversation with without dumbing himself down. He would have kissed you if a book wasn't slammed down at the end of the table, causing Ford to glare at the person, Fiddleford.

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?"

You sit back in your seat and smile, "No. Uh, no. I was going to go anyway. I'm sure my roommate is waiting for me." You turn to Ford, "I'll see you... later?"

"Yeah. I'll see you."

---

Ford stared at his ceiling, his alarm clock the only light in the room. He couldn't keep his mind off of you. He wished he had kissed you or something. It would have been the perfect moment. So, why didn't he?

He could feel his body heat up as his thoughts got more intense. He pulled one of his pillows out from under him, before slamming it against his face, hoping to rid himself of the thoughts. God, how was he supposed to see you again knowing what he felt?