#they want and looked through the whole thing

[shiny-jr]

✂ damnation [ the crow courier ]

– Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.

– Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

– Characters: Sebek Zigvolt, Silver, Lilia Vanrouge, Malleus Draconia.

– Note: Not gonna lie, I did not reread this to make sure everything transferred alright. So hopefully the whole story is here.

– Pages: 44

– Not satisfied? Try looking here for the quiz to take it yourself and see where you end up banished!

The Praetorian Imp   |   The Crow Courier

A mask. There was a mask of cold black metal settled on the upper half of your face. It was cold, smooth against your cheeks. This was new. It wasn’t some sort of blindfold, as you could see perfectly and last you heard, they never blinded their prisoners. Concealing an evil-doer’s vision during their banishment was considered a small mercy, something they wouldn’t do, and the judges wanted each sinner to see the fate that awaited them. 

A supposedly horrid fate, but what sort of cruel end required you to wear a plate of armor and a warm cloak? Over your chest, your hand traced the curves and swirls on a metallic chest plate, reaching the black fabric over your shoulders and extending down your back. Removing the mask over your face and turning it in your hands to examine it, the empty eye holes of a feathered fiend stared back at you. The accessory resembled a bird, dark feathers carefully forged into the mask as the end curved into a sharpened beak. It was slightly unsettling, somewhat resembling the type of mask a plague doctor would don during the middle ages in times of peril. 

On the ground, just past the mask you were staring down at, were shreds of paper which caught your attention. It looked as if something or someone had torn a sheet to shreds and disregarded them in the middle of this dark and dreary hallway. Upon kneeling down to pick up a few pieces, your eyebrows furrowed as you attempted to piece them back together like a puzzle. 

Piece after piece, you managed to somewhat make out the painted image despite the face of a crowned figure being burnt black beyond recognition, but the rest of the image could somewhat be salvaged at least enough to draw a conclusion. A taller faceless crowned figure in garbs, beside a queen, holding a bundled baby in their arms that had been torn straight through. Below, on the aged paper was written text reading: Announcing the birth of the princess. A holiday is to be proclaimed throughout the entire kingdom in honor of the princess. 

Why did this all seem so awfully familiar? 

Slowly standing, you jumped upon hearing the rumbling start of thunder. Outside, past the window, dark storm clouds gathered in a hurry above a dense forest and towering wall of thorns. Thorns! Thorns so tall that even from afar, they looked as big as a house! 

“Oh… wow.” You whisper in slight horror. 

The royal family and birth of a princess, a deep dark forest, a deadly wall of thorns–– these were all part of a story. These were points of a fictional story, and yet you were here. Here, somewhere, in a corridor where the walls were dark stone bricks and a long carpet ran along the floor. How did you play into this? The bird-like mask still in your hands and staring back at you, appeared to answer that. The only bird in the story was a black-feathered one, which served as the villain’s little pet.

This couldn’t be real, could it? Why was this your punishment, of all things? How did the story go again? 

A king and queen had a child, a princess, whose birth was celebrated throughout the entire kingdom. A glittering assemblage of folk from all walks of life, foreign and local, rich and poor, from royalty, nobility, gentry, and even the rabble, were invited to pay homage and revel in the festivities. However, the procession was disrupted by the arrival of an uninvited guest, the Mistress of All Evil. She was a malevolent fairy who brought a curse, promising death upon the infant princess. The princess goes into hiding with three good fairies for years, until the curse can pass, but eventually the malevolent fairy does capture both the princess and her betrothed prince. The princess falls into a death-like sleep, and the prince escapes to rescue her. In the process, the antagonist’s avian companion is turned to stone while the malevolent fairy turns into a dragon to face off against the hero in a grand battle, only to be defeated by a holy sword through the heart! 

It caused you to freeze, gulping as you imagined such an end. Stone… You were to be turned to stone! Would that mean instant death, or were to become a prisoner forced to be still and silent until the very end of time or at least until your stone body crumbled to dust? 

A pair of wooden doors flew open, the sudden sound as it slammed against the wall caused you to scream. That, and the appearance of an odd stranger in armor, was enough to make you believe that your end was now and sooner than expected. 

“YOU!” His booming voice nearly ruptured your eardrums as he pointed an accusatory finger. Directing a rather sharp nail, almost as equally sharp as his two front canine teeth which you caught sight of but sharper was the sword sheathed at his hip.

“Me???” You looked at the intimidating stranger, baffled and uneasy. 

The man clad in armor was certainly not a shining knight of goodness or a pure princess blessed by fairies. It became apparent by his pointed nails, sharp teeth, and unnaturally thin pupils that he wasn’t human. What sort of human had slicked back natural mint green hair? 

“Yes, you!! Do not be so dense, human! Who else do you see in this hall?” He stomped up to you, frowning deeply, almost snarling. As he got closer, you realized he was very tall and built like a soldier. At his hip, opposite to his blade, was a mask of dark metal, resembling yours. However, his mask was crafted to resemble a crocodile. “Do not think yourself superior for even a second! You are only valued for the intel you can provide, nothing more, nothing less. Here you are, milling about uselessly while the rest of us search tirelessly for the girl! I shouldn’t have expected anything less from a mortal!” 

Squinting a bit at him, it took a solid second for all those words he spoke to be processed in your mind. Another round of thunder rumbled outside, sounding closer than before. “But… I am stupid?” You smiled a bit awkwardly, watching how the stranger’s face fell with each following word. “Sorry, who are you? I think you have the––” He has the wrong person. Before you could complete that thought, thunder seemed to shake the very walls as its booming clap reverberated throughout the air. 

It was loud, loud enough to startle both yourself and the uncouth bright-eyed one. 

“Have you no decency? You cannot even recall your colleague’s name! It’s Sebek! Sebek! We spoke months ago before departing for the most recent search!” He replied, frustrated that you didn’t remember his name, despite not even meeting before. Was he mistaking you for someone? It’s as if you had been thrust into some sort of role, maybe that’s why he didn’t take you for an intruder. 

“Okay, okay, Sebek. Got it. You don’t need to say it a third time. Please, spare my poor ears.” Raising an eyebrow, you nearly flinched every time he spoke. It’s like he had a megaphone built into his voice box, because he talked in what sounded like shouts. “Also, why are you yelling? I can hear you perfectly fine, you don’t have to be so loud.” 

“Why am I…?” The weirdo, apparently called Sebek, parroted in disbelief as he ran a hand through his mint green hair. His fingers gripping his head, fingers tangled through his own locks. “Why are you still here?! General Vanrouge has requested I look for you because you were absent for an assembly called by the Master! Deliberately missing special councils called by him is deplorable on every level!” Reaching forward, he suddenly caught your arm in an iron grip as he practically dragged you through a maze of corridors until they approached the source of a commotion. 

Better to allow this Sebek character to escort you than refusing and risking him having an aneurysm, you figured. Something in your gut told you to go with it, and don’t immediately bring up the fact that you weren’t who they thought you were, especially now that you had arrived in a room chock full of armed soldiers dressed in a manner similar to Sebek. 

However, all these people had two striking features, slitted pupils and pointed ears. Pointed ears. Definitely not human. Yes, you were stupid, but not stupid enough to expose yourself when you were outnumbered a hundred-to-one. 

“What’s all this––?”

Before you could completely round the corner, you nearly fell back into Sebek as a cloaked figure appeared out of the shadows. They hung from the ceiling, their face in front of yours. A terrifying individual, with thin locks of pitch black and blood red, and a face of a terrifying gnarling beast. “Boo!” 

Wide-eyed, you stared at the figure as you leaned back into Sebek’s arms who didn’t seem as surprised as you. Was this a companion of his? The matching cloak, the similar armor, and… that face of the hanging stranger was metal. A mask. A mask that looked like some horrifying monstrous bat.

Placing a hand on your heart, you closed your eyes and fell back dramatically, playing the part. Your legs went limp, the only thing preventing your form from hitting the cold hard floor was the pair of strong arms holding you up from behind. 

A snicker was the only applause for your small performance, as Sebek jostled you from your act. For some particular reason, Sebek was impatient as he forced you to your feet, but he didn’t dare raise his voice at this surprisingly short figure that somehow floated down from the ceiling like a feather drifting to the ground. 

“This is an entirely serious matter! Lilia–– General, please.” Sebek pleaded, keeping you stuck in place by gripping your shoulders to keep you facing the General. What did Sebek call him earlier? Vanrouge? This was him? 

This Vanrouge character was on the petite side, he hardly looked like a general with his undersized stature and thin limbs. Yet his armor fit him just fine, and on his belt was a great big cleaver that sparkled like jade. Definitely not about to cross him when he had that on his person. 

Cleaver aside, it was really difficult to fear him when he removed his terrifying mask. While yes, his features were far less human than Sebek’s, he was somewhat adorable. When he laughed, you noticed small sharpened fangs while his big crimson red eyes and slitted pupils shined with mirth. Even one of his pale pointed ears appeared to twitch. “I know, I know, but can’t I enjoy one moment of laughter before everything goes to rack and ruin?” 

There was no need to even ask what exactly he meant by that, because again, there was that thundering rumble that shook the very palace walls. It sounded even closer this time, like it was in just the next room over! 

Vanrouge, or rather, Lilia, appeared a bit anxious, jittery as he brushed off his nerves with a quieter laugh. His own hands had gripped your shoulders as Sebek took a step back. “See, this is why you are one of my favorite humans! Mortals are so easygoing and you get my humor.” 

“Thank you? And you’re my favorite…” You paused. What even was he? What were they? In some renditions, there were fairies, but sometimes the creature that was the malevolent fairy and her goons were left a mystery. In one story the malevolent fairy had an army of creatures with animalistic features. Is that what they were supposed to be? It would explain the masks. What if you were wrong? “You’re my favorite little guy.” 

Sebek looked down at you incredulously as if you had insulted his own mother, and you realized far too late that you had quite literally called a General a little guy. However, instead of bringing his cleaver down upon you and splitting you in half or destroying you with some type of wild fantastical twinkly fairy magic, this General only giggled. He giggled, which made you grin like a fool. You had done something right, apparently! 

Deciding against saying the first thought that came to mind, Sebek instead blurted out, “This is the only human you actually talk to! They are the only one among us fae!” 

So that’s what they were. Fae. “Details, details. It still counts.” Lilia dismissed, leading you closer to the very end of the hall where it opened up to a space with more soldiers like him and Sebek. Faes. In a huge spacious room, gathered, listing reports on the results of their scouting missions. Missions likely with the goal of finding the princess. Once there, he placed an arm around your shoulder. Here, his voice was quieter to avoid being heard by the masses. “Come, we know the Master will be in need of some good news right about now, whether you can deliver it or fetch it. It will quell his… irritability. And it may take a human to catch a human. We cannot fully comprehend how your minds work, but perhaps you can understand a fellow mortal’s and finally make this search a success. Go now, courier.” 

Lilia had pushed you out in the open just as the last of the soldiers were wrapping up their report of failed searches. Your dark garbs and metal crow mask had allowed you to blend right in, but it felt like you were a rabbit in a den of ravenous wolves. No one stared at you, because they were far too transfixed on a towering figure not too far from where the General had pushed you. 

As soon as the figure entered your line of vision, you too became just as transfixed as everyone else. Master. This was their master, which could only be the malevolent fairy, fae, in this case. It should have never been possible for someone to have both the facets of a devil but the magnificence of an angel, but he did. Horns as black as night curved atop his head and inky black scales bordered the bases, making it look like a crown while shadows appeared to blend into his robes like fabric weaved of pure darkness devoid of any light. The only light that escaped him came from his eyes, like the common slitted pupils in this crowd yet his eyes glowed an enchanting green like no other. 

It was like a moth to a flame, destined to burn, but you found yourself drawing near behind his dark throne anyways. 

“It’s inconceivable!” He hissed, loud enough so that the entirety of the gathered could hear his voice echo in the space around them. The thunder outside seemed to crack with his every word. The fae, his loyal denizens, shirked back instinctively yet they continued to awe at the malevolent one. “Twenty years, and not a trace of the princess. How is it that this one human, a mortal, has miraculously escaped the vigilant watchful eyes of every one of my most diligent knights and soldiers who have searched all but endlessly, high and low, for two decades? Hm?” 

You kept glued to the wall, the uneven bricks against your back as you attempted to make yourself as small as possible. What were you supposed to do? What could a mortal do against him, the same fae that has the ability to transform into a dragon of immeasurable strength? This fae was the one who would eventually drag you down with him. 

“Humans are numerous, and they are a tricky sort, Your Majesty.” Lilia appeared at the forefront of the throng. Despite the obvious vexation of the horned-one, he continued merrily with an encouraging smile, despite the apprehension of his armored colleagues. “We can’t exactly venture into towns too long without the risk of being discovered or the presence of that pesky iron weakening us. But we make do, and during nights we’ve checked every strip of land from the moors’ borders, to the villages and towns, even the highest mountains. Haven’t we, boys?” 

A murmur of agreement washed over the crowd. For twenty years they had tirelessly searched, and they had no princess to show for their efforts. It wasn’t that the princess disappeared into thin air, this much you could remember. There was a reason they couldn’t find the princess as she dwelled in a cottage deep within the woods with her caretakers, the three good fairies, acting as poor mortal women. What was that reason again…? 

One hand shot up from the crowd, a voice louder than the rest, the familiar voice of Sebek. “Yes, Master Malleus we did! And we will gladly continue our search, comb through every region once more, and check every cradle again all for you to extract your revenge upon the despicable humans and their wicked king!” 

“Cradles…?” The dark fae, apparently named Malleus, directed his widening eyes towards them. His grip tightened on his long twisted wooden staff. You were given the answer as to why they never found the princess within the first years. The faes had forgotten that mortals aged, so the princess they were looking for was no longer a baby in a cradle. 

“Oh no.” Sensing the impending danger, you took cover behind the throne. From behind the throne you peeked out, using the royal seat as a shield. When the towering fae’s green-eyed gaze landed on you by a glance, you stilled like a frozen statue. The hair on the back of your neck raised as your gaze met his. Seeing his eyes become temporarily focused on you, feeling his unholy presence, sensing the incoming disaster he would wrought–– everything about this man, if he even was a man, made alarm bells ring on your head. 

Suddenly, a smile graced his features. It was the sort that masked his frustration simmering beneath the surface. He was close, close enough to reach a hand forward slowly so his fingertips grazed the underside of your chin. Lips curled upward into a menacing grin, but it wasn’t the crazed sort. He was scarily calm as he peered down at you. “Did you hear that, my courier?” 

There were over a hundred pairs of eyes on you at the moment. Watching intently as you leaned back a bit, a chill traveling up your spine as his sharp black nails traced your flesh. You’re sure you were beaming like a simpleton, whether out of instinct or out of some sort of response to your current nerves. Certainly this was how the sailors felt in times of old when confronted by enchanting sirens that lured them to certain doom in watery graves. What were the don’ts regarding fairies and faes of myths? Don’t give your name, don’t lie, and don’t enter the obvious fae traps designed to ensnare curious humans. This must’ve been some sort of fae trap, it had to when he had a face like that. 

Was Malleus addressing you directly because you were the only human in the room? “Yes… Loud and clear.” One corner of your mouth twitched into an awkward smile in return, but you found yourself unable to remove your eyes from his. A brief and quiet chuckle left your lips, “It’s… kinda funny.” 

“Isn’t it?” When he removed his fingers from your chin, you nearly tumbled forward, but you managed to successfully catch yourself before you could crash into him. The fae turned around, beginning to chuckle in his deep voice, a sound which echoed in the tense silence of the packed throne room. “For all these years I have been waiting, and they have been looking for a baby.” 

The General, Lilia, was perhaps the first to realize something was amiss when the Master of All Evil began to laugh. Vanrouge seemed like the type to enjoy a laugh, but this wasn’t just a moment to crow about their recent failings. A moment of clarity dawned on him while his colleagues unsurely joined in on the commotion. Your gaze met his and you frantically shook your head as Sebek rapidly clasped his hands over his mouth in shock and regret upon realizing their mistake and his blunder. You tried to signal them to flee while you yourself retreated further back behind the throne for cover. 

It was just in the nick of time too, as the air began to fizzle with static electricity, growing with every passing second as his laugh became less humorous and more diabolical. There was the same lightning from before but instead of being outside, it sounded as if it was inside these very walls. Crashing and striking every second, one, two, three, four, five, shaking the castle. You felt your eardrums vibrate as you continued to brace yourself behind the throne until it stopped. This was your first true taste of utter terror and helplessness. 

Here you were for a reason, to die, either by stone or before, whether it be by the clubs of the fae soldiers, at the sharp end of a holy sword, or between the maws of the Master of All Evil. It felt like an eternity, but it was likely under a minute, when the destruction ended. Trembling slightly, you peeked out to survey the damage. 

It was a harsh reminder of your current plight. There were no bodies laying motionless, as everyone either had the means to defend themselves or Malleus simply wasn’t aiming for any of them in his burst of anger. The throne room had been largely evacuated thanks to General Lilia and Sebek. Only shields and the occasional weapon were left behind in the hurry to avoid being struck by his wrath, dark spots were ingrained where the lightning struck the ground, a few stones tumbled loose from any walls that were hit as collateral damage. 

If you somehow survived this, it would be no less than a miracle. 

The air cooled, no longer hot with generating bolts of electricity, as the bottom of the dark fae’s staff snapped against the ground and he frowned deeply. Turning heel, his robes swished behind him as he made his way to his lonely throne with his head hung low. As he sat in the quiet empty room, you slowly revealed yourself from behind his throne. 

The fae only glanced at you briefly, as he took a deep breath and exhaled. Averting his gaze away from you, he didn’t strike you down just for staying. In fact, his next words seemed almost out of character for his role as Master of All Evil. “I apologize for my outburst… That was unbecoming of me.” 

Furrowing your eyebrows, you kneeled beside his throne at the right side of his armrest. For some reason, the king of the faes wouldn’t look at you. Rather, he opted to keep his gaze directed at the empty open space of the throne room. “Well, I think that was a reasonable crashout after twenty years of waiting only to hear they were looking for the wrong thing. I’d probably lose my temper too if I were you. You’re pretty patient for waiting even half that time.” 

“I appreciate your attempts to ease my suffering.” Somber. The dark fae was not as cruel as you had originally imagined. Frightening, yes, but he didn’t willingly and knowingly aim to zap his own subjects. After a few seconds of complete silence, he finally directed his undivided attention towards you. “It has been some time since I’ve personally requested my courier to go. The last time was when the… beastly little royal human had been born into this world. But now, due to the ignorance my own kin have shown, I must ask you to venture into the human kingdom.” 

“O… kay.” Slowly you nodded along, already knowing what he wanted you to find. The princess would be the objective. However, even for your knowledge of the story, you only knew she dwelled in a cottage within the woods. You had no idea how to actually go about finding her! 

The dark fae peered down at you, his green eyes staring into yours. Moving his hand to your head a few inches above the armrest of his throne, he carefully examined your every feature. It was petrifying to be analyzed so closely by such a creature of imaginable power, but his otherworldly sort of allure made it almost possible to forget the frightening show of strength you had just witnessed. Almost, but not quite, as his power was just as striking. 

“Circle far and wide.” Malleus began, his fingers against your chin slowly making you stand on your feet but not stand straight. You had to remain in a low stance as if hunched over, he brought your face close to his until he stood. Stood so his figure was towering over yours like an ominous shadow, and so you had to look up at him. These next words were a command, cold and indisputable. “Search for a maiden with hair of sunshine gold and lips red as the rose. Go, and do not fail me.” 

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

Run. That was at the forefront of your mind. The alternative to a life of freedom and chance was appealing when compared to the gruesome fateful end you are destined to eventually meet. It would be easy to escape, given that you already had a black stallion as a steed to transport you from the fae’s moors and enchanted forests to the open fields and sprawling towns where your fellow humans resided. 

Run is what your mentality screamed when you had faced the Master of All Evil and stared him down. There was a good chance that other malefactors who may have ended up in similar situations as yours may have met their fate much earlier. On the ride to the neighboring kingdom’s main capital city, you had plenty of time to think of how you may have unintentionally dodged death. Should Sebek have found you suspicious and realized you did not belong, he would easily have the strength to overtake you; if Lilia had noticed that you were not one of his own, then his cleaver would have been stained red; even Malleus could’ve easily obliterated you with his magic, whether unintentionally or deliberately. 

Run is what you wanted to do when you finally reached the human city. Flee far into the countryside, in a land far far far away from here, completely out of reach for even the mighty fae and his loyal underlings. 

Such an option was tempting, that is, until you actually beheld human civilization. It was jarring, to say the least, the scene was a cold slap in the face, a reminder that this was not at all like the world you once knew. Riding into town, you found it a dreary type of place. Ever since you stepped foot out of fae territory, it’s as if the light had been sucked out of every living thing. Were things always this monotonous, or did the peaceful air in the vibrance of the enchanted forests just make things look worse in comparison? 

This was a medieval era, you were reminded as much by the colorful banners of the royal family and noble houses, the aroma of freshly baked bread, and the strong scent of burning coal and forging irons. People milled about, going on with their daily duties, completely ignoring the stranger that was you. 

That’s right–– to these simple townsfolk, you were one of them! A human, not a fae that which they feared. Perhaps a wandering knight in armor, a traveller passing through, nobody worth a second glance. This is why Malleus thought you were most fit to venture out for clues. However, what you wanted were not clues but answers. Should you stay or go? Risk your life and somehow try to change the entirety of the plot, in the hopes you would be rewarded for your loyalty by the fae king that wielded incredible power and riches? Or choose to run, run and never look back, run and hope you found something better to avoid your punishment? 

This desire for answers was seemingly answered in the form of a stranger. A stranger who nearly ran you over with a brilliant white steed, as you were walking and leading your own stallion by its leather reigns. It was close to the marketplace, but in an isolated corner of the city boxed in by towering brick walls built to fortress invasions. Which is why hardly anyone was there to bear witness as you jumped back, narrowly missing being stepped on by the hooves of the suddenly appearing beast as your own horse grew panicked. 

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” You scowled at the rider, whose face you didn’t see until their horse backed up and you had to calm your own. It was difficult to calm it, it felt nearly impossible when you had no experience with these finicky creatures as you awkwardly tugged on the reins and tried to reach a hand toward it. 

A pale hand came into view, placing itself upon the creature’s black fur on its forehead. “Here, let me help.” Instantly, he calmed the anxious creature with just one soothing touch and the sound of his hushed voice. 

A fae? No, that was impossible! The telltale sign was the soft round ears and round pupils dotting the most entrancing pair of eyes you had ever seen before. It felt impossible to name the color, but it was like dawn’s first light. The hair on his head reflected the evening sun like silver, even his outfit was pristine and not that of a commoner. Gray and white tunic of high quality fabrics buttoned with gold, tailored dark pants with black polished boots, and a white cloak flowing down his back. Even if this man certainly had the grace and charm of a fae, he certainly was not one, he was human. 

“I’m terribly sorry.” Carefully he gathered the black leather reigns in his hands, placing them in yours as his fingers brushed against your flesh. He was warm. “I didn’t see you there, and I didn’t mean to frighten your horse, or you. Are you alright…?” 

A bit taken aback, you didn’t react as he slid the reins into your hands. You were far too entranced, puzzled by his mere presence. No human should be that pretty. The guy was radiant, he stood out so prominently. Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, the words came tumbling past your lips and you only realized how it sounded once they were out hanging in the air. “What are you?” 

The refined gentleman remained mostly impassive, but his eyes widened the slightest bit and he blinked. Slowly lowering his calloused hands, he looked at you inquisitively. Specifically staring at your mask. “My name is Silver. Who are you?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You realized how peculiar you must’ve looked to others. The mask allowed you to fit right in among the fae, but here, there was no need for such a thing. So slowly you removed it and attached it to your hip. “Silver, huh…? Is that a nickname or something? It’s not really original.” 

“No, I suppose it isn’t very original.” Shaking his head lightly, expressionless, his eyes drifted to the ground as he casually admitted, “It was a name suggested by my late uncle who passed on before my birth in a terrible tragedy. My mother and father decided to keep it in his honor.”

When he looked back at you, both your hands were clasped over your mouth. Rapidly, you began to attempt to make up for your blunder, nearly stumbling over your words. “N-No, no, you heard me wrong…! I meant that it’s a very original name. Really. I mean, who else do you know that has the name Silver? Or Gold? Or Bronze? No one! Your name is perfect, I love it.” 

“Oh, well thank you…” Silver managed the slightest trace of a smile, but other than that he remained rather apathetic. Still, he peered down at you with vague curiosity. “You still have yet to tell me your name.” 

“My name?” Were you allowed to even say your name? What if you said it, and a fae heard it, and failed to recognize it? That would be a fatal mistake. “Oh, I have a name. And it’s not a metal-based one, mind you. But, everyone just calls me Courier.” That’s what Lilia had referred to you as earlier. 

The young man tilted his head to the side, looking rather confused as he guessed. “Your nickname is your occupation?” 

“… Yes.” You winced, realizing how stupid it seemed, worse than a name like his, but it was already out in the open. It couldn’t be taken back. “It’s a nickname.”

“I see.” There was no judgement on his end. All he did was nod along, taking it all with grace. Lightly tugging on the reins of his steed, just to keep them close as you did with yours, he looked around the empty street. “Courier, may I ask you a favor? It appears I’ve gotten myself lost. The last time I was here was several years ago, and I hardly recognize any of these roads. I was trying to find my way to the palace to meet with the King. Do you believe you might be able to point me in the right direction?” 

Your ear perked up at that. The King? As in one of the humans that Malleus viewed as a foe? It didn’t take long at all to find a lead! If this lead proved to be useful, then maybe it was worth the risk staying. If Malleus became the victor to receive his own happily ever after, wouldn’t that mean you would receive the same? “The King? Well, you must be someone important to meet with him.” 

“Ah, yes, I don’t usually mention this… It draws far too much attention.” Silver shifted as you gestured for him to follow. You had no idea where the palace was, but it wouldn’t be too hard to move towards the general direction of a towering estate once you saw it. Keeping up with your pace, the black and white horses in tow, he continued, “I have to meet with him because I’m the prince betrothed to his daughter.” 

You nearly screamed in delight. This was perfect! Too perfect! This wasn’t just a lead, this was one of the story’s two main protagonists! Instead, you could only grin, your giddiness probably seemed common to him whenever he introduced himself as royalty. But your excitement was due for another entirely different reason. “You don’t say!”

Furrowing his eyebrows, he responded quietly, a bit confused, “I’m saying so right now…?” 

“No, it’s an expression, duh.” You rolled your eyes, half amused by the prince’s innocence. This was all coming together so well! However, you had to remain cautious. In the story, the crow assisted in the capture of the prince and eternal sleep falling over the princess, but it was due to carelessness that the bird still got turned to stone! “So, you’re practically engaged to someone you don’t even know? Ooh… I’m very sorry for your marriage.” 

Silver paused, appearing slightly confused as he spoke in such a soft and enchanting voice. The prince made simple words sound like a lullaby. “I’m no expert in felicitations, but I believe the saying is congratulations, not I’m very sorry for your marriage.” 

Appearing to contemplate his words for a moment, you then shrug your shoulders and dismiss the comment from him. “Hmm… Nahhhh.” You know what you said. “I meant what I said.”

“What an odd thing to say.” Silently furrowing his eyebrows, he appeared deep in thought as he considered your words. Quietly the prince remarked in a hushed tone, “No one has ever said such a thing to me. Since you said that, it must mean you understand that this isn’t an entirely positive ordeal for me. I… never thought anyone would understand my life long predicament.” 

“What…?” Looking at him with a mix of confusion and amusement, you held back any laughter. All you had done was try to poke fun and tease the prince, not talk heart to heart with him! 

The prince looked at you, a delighted sparkle in his eyes that contradicted the apathetic expression of the royal. Keeping pace, he followed rather closely even as you picked up speed once catching sight of the palace from the corner of your eye. “You understand that this arranged royal marriage is not as grand as most make it out to be. I haven’t even met my betrothed yet.” 

Personally, you didn’t see much wrong with his romantic situation, but that was coming from someone of the outside perspective. Slaying a dragon aside, all he had to do was marry a wealthy princess of unmatched beauty and grace, who he’ll come to love anyways. After the wedding he’d remain royalty, and eventually become a king. “Oh, boo-hoo, what a problem to have!” Actually, scratch that. You wouldn’t want to be him when he was the one who had to face the Master of All Evil head on in combat. Malleus was frightening enough just as he was, but seeing him as a dragon was likely a thousand times more terrifying.

Again, the sarcasm went directly over his head. Instead, he nodded along, keeping pace as his leather-toed boots clicked against the cobblestone street. “Well, I wouldn’t say boo-hoo exactly. It doesn’t quite make me sad, just… disappointed, I suppose. It is a heavy burden to shoulder. Father and Mother believe that uniting our kingdoms through marriage is the best option in protecting us from the fae.” 

“The fae, hm? How scary~” You hummed. Upon the mention of the fae, you cannot help but recall the magical folk with their pointed ears and beastly masks. Certainly the way they came across with their attire could be very frightening. They were a funny bunch, but unsettling.

“I wouldn’t know. I have never met one before, my family has forbidden it.” Silver shrugged lightly, keeping his eyes on the ground in front of him. Conscious of every step he took, he made slow measured strides so as to not outpace you. “Perhaps someday, if I were to ever meet one, we could establish diplomatic relations to mend the harm that our people have caused to each other throughout history. Most humans do not want to fight, and I’d like to believe that the fae feel the same.” 

“It’s possible the fae aren’t all bad.”

For a moment, you pictured it. Peace between the Moors and the Kingdom. While some fae seemed to have an aversion toward humanity, their majestic leader didn’t appear to feel the same. Rather, his loathing was specifically aimed at the King and by extension his Princess daughter, which would then also extend to the daughter’s betrothed Prince currently walking beside you. Silver would be an enemy in Malleus’ eyes by association to the Princess. 

“What? Is your heart made out of gold or something?” You scoffed, distracting from the serious topic with a bit of light teasing. The conversation was beginning to feel too heavy. “Or should I say… a heart of silver!” When you only got a silent glance from him, you faltered. “Nevermind. Tough crowd.” 

Coming up to the guarded wooden bridge that separated the city from the kingdom, you stopped in the shadows. It was best to avoid any unwanted attention, especially from the knights standing guard at the entrance as people flowed across the bridge. This was the furthest you could go. Best not risk being caught as a human spy for the fae. 

“I thought it was funny.” Silver admitted quietly, stopping beside you in the light as he placed a hand over his horse’s neck. Even though he said he found it humorous, his expression didn’t match his words. 

Noticing this, you gave a half scoff as you pointed out the obvious. “You didn’t even laugh.” 

Silently he watched you climb onto the saddle over the black horse. At your words he nodded slowly in confirmation. Indeed, he had not laughed at your joke. Stepping forward, stopping you from leaving immediately, he placed his hand over yours which gripped the reins. Those aurora eyes gazed up at you, glittering, despite the detached expression on his face. “May I see you again? You were the first to never scoff at my idea that the fae can be reasoned with.” 

The fae could be reasoned with, you knew this much. It may be difficult, but it is possible. Perhaps once Malleus wrought revenge on those who crossed him, he would be willing to be amicable. Now if that would even be possible after the humans see a notorious fae bring death upon their royals like a curse, was a completely different story. “You want to see me again?” 

Silver nodded, confirming even despite seeing the sheer incredibility of your expression. “Also to hear more of your jokes.” 

Pulling the reins out of his grasp, your steed stepped in place but seemed much easier to control now. “Uhh… sure? Why not? I like you anyways, you’re kinda weird.” Before he could open his mouth, you interrupted, calling over your shoulder as your steed began to take off. “Don’t ask questions! We’ll see each other again, don’t worry.” 

You would definitely be seeing him again, for better or for worse. If your memory serves you right, the Malevolent Fairy captures the Prince and has him chained in her palace’s dungeon. There, while her goons are reveling in their victory, she and her avian companion pay a visit to their royal prisoner. It is then that the Malevolent Fairy reveals her plan to keep the Prince locked away for a hundred years, and only then once he’s old and on the verge of death, will he be allowed free to go and wake the Princess after a century of slumber. Maybe you could convince Malleus to spare Silver? Could that work to your advantage or would that work against you? 

As you steer the steed through the forest, back to the moors through a different path, weaving through dense foliage and shrubbery in the search for another hint, the flash of color caught your gaze. It was out of place, bright and glittering against nature’s backdrop. They were like small puffs and explosions of glitter and light, colorful like fireworks, as clear as flares. When you got close enough, you knew you had found it when you spotted a little hidden cottage. From inside past closed doors came bickering and shouting as the chimney spouted magic instead of black soot. 

Steadily a grin grew on your face as you awed at the magic dust spewing from the top. “Huh… that’s awfully convenient. But wait a minute…” 

You stayed behind, hiding your steed in the dense foliage as you crept along in the shadows cast by the trees and the back of the cottage. Eventually, a girl did arrive. A girl with golden hair and rose red lips, the one that had to be the princess. You listened as she arrived, the side of your face pressed up against the cold rugged stone walls. 

The princess was ecstatic upon receiving her birthday gifts, but she spoke of no mysterious man. No true love she met in the woods. Not even when her caretakers, who must’ve been the three good fairies, told her about her true identity as royalty, she didn’t cry because she would not see the man she fell in love with. Since she hadn’t met him, because of you. 

“Fuck…!” You cursed under your breath, dread pooling in the depths of your stomach. 

You had taken up too much of Silver’s time. So much time that he had missed the vital point in the plot where he was supposed to accidentally stumble upon the hidden Princess in the woods, and they were to fall in love. You were telling him stupid jokes while he was supposed to be falling head over heels with her! The storyline had already gone astray by this one mistake, and the terrible realization dawned on you. 

“I’m a homewrecker––” 

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“Why, our courier is back so soon.” Lilia crooned as he watched you burst through the stairs coming from the stables. Seeing your slightly disheveled appearance, he tilted his head but didn’t move from his spot lounging snuggly at the windowsill overlooking the vast expanse of training grounds. “My, my, don’t tell me the humans gave you trouble! You look like a bat out of hell.” 

Quickly shaking your head, you drew nearer to him as he carefully studied you. It made you nervous, being watched so closely by a General, but you just had to play it cool! “Nooo.” You curse the awkward crack in your voice, clearing your throat. “Of course not! I just have some very urgent news.” 

“Hmm. For a moment there I thought I would have to scare a lesson into some troublesome humans picking on our precious little courier.” Diverting his attention back to the window against his side, he hummed as he spectated some knights sparring against each other with brandished blades. 

You watched as Lilia leaned forward towards the window in interest, his nose practically pressed up against the glass. With a motion of his fingers, he caused some of the training dummies to move by magic. He lifted his fingers, controlling them like puppets so they weakly pestered and frightened any younger knights beside them.

As a few terrified screams and panicked shouts rang out from the courtyard, Lilia grinned and threw his head back in laughter. When he caught your half-amused and sort of confused smile, the mischievous fae beamed. “Come now, these are the jokes, young mortal. I’d expect you to understand. Don’t you have any otherworldly humor you could present to me? Phony says what.”

“What…?” One word. One word he said caused you to freeze, the sentence you were about to say hung off your lips and clogged your throat. Phony…? Any smile on your face was momentarily dashed as you processed what he just said, and you wanted to smack yourself for your stupidity. Audibly you gulped, forcing down anything you would have said before. The confusion must’ve been clear on your face, because it only served to amuse him further. You never were too good at hiding your shock. “You… You know I’m not––?” 

“I know you’re very very far from home. I’ve lived nearly a millennium and traveled the globe, and during my travels I’ve heard the occasional rumor of unexplainable instances concerning particular mortals. A single mortal acting odd, out of place, with more knowledge than they should, especially before monumental events. Although I never assumed it would happen here.” Lilia mused, resting his temple against the glass as his crimson red eyes never left your form. The shiny cleaver at his side looked extra sharp. “Usually, I’m not too fond of strange humans. However, you appear to be relatively harmless.” Flashing a fang-toothed grin that only made you grimace a bit, he continued, “Don’t worry, I quite like you. It sounds like you were successful in your hunt for information, and that’s what matters most.” 

You proceeded carefully, prodding a bit further just to test the limits of the current boundaries. “You’re not… mad?” 

“Oh, heavens no! Why should I be? You seem quite diligent and charming in your own right. So long as you don’t betray Malleus, then we will have no issue between us.” His voice had turned a bit serious, low, as his little grin dimmed. “He has already faced far too much betrayal at the hands of humans. Even for someone on the dense side, anyone can see that becoming a source of hatred for him would be akin to signing away their life. And I’m sure you aren’t that dull, are you?” 

Quickly shaking your head, the frown on your lips pulled down further as you remembered just how terrifying his electrifying show of power had been. And that wasn’t even the full extent of his strength! “Uh, no, I don’t think so. So… you won’t tell anyone about me?” 

“There’s no need for me to do so, so no.” With a slow beckoning of his finger, you felt an unfamiliar visible force against your back. Immediately you were pulled, magically tugged by some unseen force until he was close enough to grab you by the collar. Again, it was a stark reminder as to who you were dealing with, especially upon seeing the calluses on his palms and tiny scars littered across his slim fingers. Nervously you smiled, and he returned the gesture with a confident one. “Let’s have a bit of a partnership, shall we? A trade, if you will. A bit of tit for tat. I’m curious about what you know, and I’m sure you feel something similar towards me. Am I right? Enlighten me, dear courier.” 

“Haha…” A crooked smile made its way on your lips, as you somehow remained composed. Maybe your mind wasn’t immediately comprehending the danger you were currently in. “You first?” 

Lilia eyed you carefully, eventually letting go of your collar as he plucked your metal mask right off your face. “Very well. But only because you asked nicely.” That likely wasn’t the reason. This fae was a General, and it didn’t take a genius to realize he must’ve been a rather ruthless one if his scars were anything to go by. 

You silently thanked whatever higher force was watching over you, as Lilia could have easily decided to take you out right then and there for being a liar and an intruder. 

Sharp black nails traced every dip and groove in the metal, his fingers trailing down the long beak of the mask in his grasp. General Vanrouge made no effort to call for backup or restrain you simply because he didn’t need to. “If I were you, I would first like to know my place in all this.” 

A single nod from you was all the confirmation he needed in order to continue. 

“You are his majesty’s precious courier. A human he found one day when outside of the moors, he watched you be abandoned by your village. Those simple minded folk claimed you were cursed by fae, that there was something wrong with you. So, a fae took you in, because he needed a mortal to be his eyes and ears in the places he couldn’t go.” That explained a lot about why you were the only mortal allowed in the moors and enchanted forest. It explained why his soldier’s would sometimes watch you warily, but never outright harm you. Because you were considered his, a personal servant to their sovereign. “Now, may I have your name?” 

Immediately your mind honed in on those words. May I have your name? Faes weren’t real back home, but here, they were very real and very dangerous. If the stories were true, then they were a tricky type that chose their words carefully, often holding double meanings to what they say. You caught sight of a glimmer of magic readily swirling at his fingertips. The general didn’t just want to hear your name. “No, you may not.” You managed an attempt at a smile as he blinked at you. “You can just call me Courier, just like everyone else here.” 

Steadily a smirk grew on his face as he chuckled, “Smart, mortal. Alright, Courier. If you won’t give me your name, then answer this: why are you here? For power, perhaps glory, or riches unattainable by your current standing?” 

“That all does sound nice but believe it or not, I’m not here willingly.” Was there any harm in telling him? If he wouldn’t speak of your identity, would he mention the reason you were here to anyone else? In myths, faes didn’t appreciate liars. Besides, the near millenia old being seemed like the type to figure this out especially with your habit of letting things slip. Even if you lied now and he later found out the truth, he may not be too pleased to discover that you had the gall to lie twice to him. “It may sound like one big joke to you, but I’ll tell you.” 

Awkwardly you glanced away, unable to meet his gaze anymore. You tried looking everywhere but at him. Your gaze landed on the window, and you saw the familiar green-haired knight picking up the busted remains of ravaged training dummies. After a few seconds, Sebek’s green eyes landed on you by chance, and you immediately averted your gaze again. How did you even begin to explain your origins? 

“See, it’s like this…” You took a deep breath before beginning. “My homeland is strict and punishes criminals by banishing them. I got banished and woke up here. That’s the gist of it. And if you’re wondering what I want, well… all those things you said before do sound nice, I just mainly want to focus on surviving. This whole situation seems… familiar, in a way. Like a story I read before.” 

“Hmmm…” Although Lilia didn’t really react vocally, you could see the shock and intrigue in those big red eyes that widened at your explanation. However, he remained mostly quietly, an amused smile on his face as he was engrossed in your explanation. Only when you finished speaking did he ask inquisitively, “What was your crime? You seem so youthful, naive, and sincere. Positive qualities. Surely whatever your people found you guilty of could not have been any sort of offense worse than I’ve committed. You’re still a bit wet behind the ears after all.” 

Slowly shrugging, you replied somewhat quietly. “I’d rather not answer that.” 

“Fair enough. We all have a few skeletons in our closets that we’d prefer not to reveal. Some may be quite literal!” Wait, what did he just say? “So if you’re not willing to give up your name, or the specifics of your crime, then what are you willing to offer?” 

You watched as he sat up, his feet dangling off the floor as he sat on the window ledge. Carefully you contemplated his words, weighing each of your choices until the first thing came to mind. “I can promise you I’ll make sure Malleus gets a good ending. Because if this plays out like how I think it will, then a dragon ends up stabbed through the heart.” 

Something in Lilia’s eyes flashed as he stood up. It was chilling how the fae’s wide bright eyes went from curious and mirthful to cold and unblinking. “Is that so…?” 

“Yes. But I don’t want that, and I’m sure you don’t want that too, right?” You tried not to falter, but you couldn’t help but take a few steps back when he continued to steadily walk towards you without stopping. “Well… I’d like to prevent that with just one condition. I get to possibly live comfortably afterwards––” An involuntary gasp left your mouth as your back hit the wall, you were cornered. Slowly you sunk down, suddenly very intimidated by the small General as you practically sunk down until he was the one leering down at you. “And maybe you don’t, you know, kill me…?” 

The general’s fist was suddenly beside your head, his thumb grazing the shell of your ear as you could make out the distinct sound of stone crumbling as his fingers gripped the bricks. “So what you’re telling me is that you may be able to predict the future. So if you die, then there’s the heightened chance of our King dying?” 

“I––” You were wrong. You knew Lilia was someone to be feared, but you underestimated how utterly terrifying he was. Yes, he was darling and cute, but he didn’t even need his signature weapon to be effective. “Y-Yes…?”

General Vanrouge appeared to scrutinize you as you realized just how sharp his fangs were. In the blink of an eye, his harsh expression dropped and he smiled at your terror. “Okay! I won’t break His Majesty’s little courier he's been so intrigued by. You’ll be under my protection now. It’s as simple as that. I’m sure you won’t even consider running away from me, isn’t that right?” 

When he tilted his head, his black and red hair was so close that it brushed against your face. His nose practically in front of yours as you immediately shook your head. “I-I would never…!” 

“Good! Then it’s settled.” Lilia beamed as he took a step back, wiping off the crumbled brick dust off his hands as he laughed at your petrified form. “Scurry off now. Go tell the young master the news you’ve brought. Oh, and next time I see you, I expect to hear many jokes and I will be picking at your mind for every single tidbit of knowledge you’re hiding from me.” When you looked at him incredulously, he gave you a little wave with a wiggle of his fingers. His giggling was an unsettling reminder as he seemed to vanish around the corner. “I’ll be watching you!” 

After a few moments, you peeked behind the corner, both awed and slightly aghast to see he was completely gone. There wasn’t a single trace of him left. Rather, in his place was a certain knight. The loud one stood all the way at the other end of the hall, staring at you slack-jawed in furious disbelief. 

“You heard that, didn’t you…?” You sighed. 

“You…!!” Red-faced. He was flustered possibly with confusion and realization, the realization that this entire time he had been speaking with someone that didn’t belong. A human, yes, like he despised but worse, because this human didn’t belong at all. In an instant he was in your face, and you feared more for your eardrums than your life right now. “You, mortal, speak of affairs you know NOTHING about!!!” 

“That is true!” Hopefully no one was within the vicinity to hear him. 

Perhaps he was angry for a multitude of reasons. Lying to him, tricking people, making deals with the General, and overall still remaining ignorant of many things like why exactly did Malleus hate the King. However, it was probably because he knew you were taking advantage of the situation. A situation that was his reality, and very important to him, and he had overheard it all. “You have NO respect––!!” 

“That is also true!” Picking up your mask which Lilia had dropped on the floor, you brushed it off and added quickly before he could assault your eardrums again. “I didn’t ask to be sent here. What more do you want from me?” 

“Spare me your foul excuses, human!” Gnashing his teeth, you only now realize just how much sharper his fangs were than any other fae you had encountered thus far. It reminded you of a crocodile. “You are merely the Master’s pet, the role of the human whether you or someone else will remain constant! For some reason he sees you fit to bask in the glory of his presence, and I cannot even fathom as to why! The Master must find your human presence convenient besides just for basic intel, and for what those other purposes are, our minds can not even begin to comprehend his intentions! Although for what reasons he would want such an unsightly human is far beyond my understanding.” 

Placing your hand over your heart, you reeled back in offense as a hurt expression overtook your facial features. Forget the fact that he basically insinuated you were ugly. “Oww? Why so rude? I am many things but a pet is not one of them!” 

“Are you implying that you, a mere human, are on par with a fae such as I or even the great and mighty Malleus Draconia?” The knight gasped. “Why, the nerve of you, mortal!” 

Incredulously you squinted at him. Did all faes revere their sovereign to this insane degree, or was it just this one? Did he forget that you were his sovereign’s only human courier while he had many knights and soldiers at his disposal? “I’m not implying anything, but I’m just saying, look who has special privileges to go see your precious Master whenever I please. It’s me! Not you!” 

“Human––!!” 

As he clenched his fist, you dramatically gasped and waggled your finger. It was surprisingly fun to mess with him because it was so easy. “No, no, no. Wouldn’t want to hurt your Master’s only human courier when I carry important news, would you? I think he would be very unhappy if you did. You heard me talking with your General, I have a plan.” 

“You? Important news?” Sebek practically sneered. “You don’t mean to tell me you actually went to listen in on the comings and goings of the human kingdom instead of relying solely on your mystic knowledge? Tell me, do you really have a plan or is that one of your despicable lies again?”

“Yes, I did, actually.” There was no telling how successful you would be. Truthfully, you weren’t entirely sure where to go from here now that the plot had changed. The best bet would likely to still curse the Princess, and somehow get the Master of All Evil to consider sparing the Prince, but you would have to convince the Prince to not fight Malleus. Easier said than done. Silver seemed like the noble type, but if you could deceive him somehow so he wouldn’t rescue the Princess… “And I have… part of a plan. How hard can it be? I mean, I practically already charmed their prince! Although that part was fully unintentional.” 

“You…?” The knight didn’t seem too convinced, although there was a flicker of shock at the mention of charming a royal. “You seduced the human prince meant to wed the enemy king’s daughter? That prince? If you lie to me again, I will not forgive you twice!” 

After a brief pause, you shrugged and admitted, “I mean… I told a joke and he said he wanted to see me again––” 

“Debaucher!!” Sebek pointed accusingly, his face flush. Only now as his cheeks heated up did you notice he had the slightest trace of green scales hidden where his hair began. Weird. “I knew humans were vile and loathsome, but you…!” 

Despite his finger in your face, you actually cracked a grin. “You literally cannot call me anything worse than what I’ve called myself. And for the record, I just told him a joke and showed him the way through the human town. Nothing more, nothing less. Don’t get it twisted.” 

The fae appeared to be drawn deep in thought, holding his fingers to his chin, stroking the few scales near his neck as he actually considered your response. Or at least, for a moment he appeared to be doing that. “I don’t understand… Are humans so naturally deceptive or are they so senselessly blind to deceit playing right before their eyes? Perhaps it is both.” Just before you could reprimand him again for saying such things when you were literally less than two feet away from him, he began with a newfound sense of energy, as if reaching a profound realization. “I see! I believe I understand it now! It is because you are so disgustingly devious that the Master has decided to keep you around! Any human can be treacherous and shrewd, but it takes a truly depraved one to betray their own kind! So clearly, our human is superior to all others!” 

You stared at him hard, mostly speechless. What sort of mental gymnastics did he perform to come to that conclusion? Best not to question it, as he seemed like the type to stubbornly refuse defeat. “You know, if Malleus really wanted to––” 

“That’s Master Malleus to you, fiend!” Sebek rebuked sternly, apparently having no regard for the fact that he literally cut you off. 

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you replied sarcastically, “You know if Master Malleus really wanted to end things…” Pausing, you waited to see if he would interrupt you again, but he only grinned in satisfaction so you proceeded. “Why doesn’t he just, you know––” You slid your hand over your throat in a slicing motion. “––the Princess?” 

“The audacity of you, courier! How dare you make such an assumption?” Perhaps the suggestion was going too far. “The Master is a noble spirit, I do not know what sort of idea you have of him, but cease that affront at once! If you are to operate on behalf of our esteemed leader among the ranks of his knights, you must change your perspective of him. The Master is understanding and knowledgeable… I too once had a similar idea and asked him once, his response was that the objective of his curse was to cause the most suffering possible to those who have wronged him.” 

You piped up, “… I mean, I could do it just to put an end to things.” 

“No!! Did you not just hear me?” There was the flash of his fangs again, but he wasn’t out right snarling again. At least that was a good sign. Firmly he explained, “The Master doesn’t need your help in assassination! He is far more capable than just slitting one’s throat! With a flick of his finger, he could disarm an entire army! The Princess would stand no chance!” 

Motioning him to tone it down, you grimaced at his volume. There was no doubt in your mind that it was entirely possible that at least one person had overheard the conversation. It would be a miracle if no one had overheard any of the details at this point. “Let’s not talk about that super loud. You know, I still have to deliver the news.”

Pausing, Sebek opened his mouth, “Ah–– you are correct. That was negligent of me to take up your time when the Master is awaiting your presence.” Placing a hand on your shoulder, he squeezed slightly, and you noticed he had quite the nails and a powerful grip. The knight smiled, actually beamed with such sharp teeth. “Do not fret, courier. Although I find your mortal ways absolutely despicable, you will soon realize what a blessing it is to serve the Master! For now, you are my comrade, and I will help change your selfish desires!” 

Silently staring at him, astounded by his confidence and logic, the sarcastic comment slipped out as you looked straight into his eager sparkling eyes. Apparently he really believed he could really change your mindset. “I’m tearing up…” 

“I know, do not cry!” The sarcasm went completely over his head as he roped you in so you were shoulder-to-shoulder. Enthusiastically he continued, forcing you to walk along with him as he moved forward. “I understand, believe me, serving His Majesty is a wondrous thing! Do not be overwhelmed, even if it is very easy to get swept away by the glory of his mere presence, I am here to guide you! Together, we shall serve Master Malleus for many years to come!” After a few feet, his ironclad grip loosened enough for you to stumble a few paces forward out of his hold. “Go. We will begin tomorrow at dawn, and I will take it upon myself to enlighten you on all fae history and the biography of our esteemed leader! If you are late, I will simply track you down and force you to listen, I hope I have made myself clear enough!” 

Note to self, think of an excuse to get out of that tomorrow. Maybe lying and saying Malleus gave you some top secret important mission would be enough to get Sebek off your back. “Crystal clear. Now, if you’ll excuse me––” 

Before he could even think to begin again, you got out of there quickly. It was by asking servants did you hear that the fae king was in his study and apparently did not wish to be disturbed, probably due to the fact that he was likely bitter from the earlier disappointment about the whole cradle thing. 

“Malleus! Master Malleus!” Your fist pounded on the door. According to the servants, the general rule was to never ever bother the fae when his door was closed and especially when he was in a foul mood, but you were the exception as you brought reports. 

The door to the study where he was remained firmly shut for a few moments, until there was a wave of his hand and a green glow which unlocked the latch. Caving under your weight, the door flew open, nearly making you fall face first against the cold hard ground which caused you to shout in exclamation. 

Somehow you caught yourself, your fingers brushing against the ground but you remained on your feet for the most part. Quickly you recomposed yourself, still slightly flustered under the majestic fae’s menacing gaze. 

Malleus lifted his chin, his green-eyed gaze never leaving yours. It was another shock, a reminder, as you nearly forgot how frightening he was. Turning his attention away from the balcony, he watched you fumble about like a king would look upon their pitiful jester. “Well?” 

“Um… well…” Despite how many times you practiced your lines before arriving, your memory and any confidence went right off the balcony ledge overlooking the fae’s kingdom. When under the scrutiny of a magical being so ethereal yet so terrifying, it made your mind blank. “I, uh, saw stuff. Definitely saw things, and… uh…” Suddenly your mouth went dry, and words made no sense in your mind. If you focused on his midnight black hair, it made it possible to speak when you weren’t focused on his gaze. “So there was a Prince… very nice, mind you. Not so bad. He seems to want to think well of faes. Found him as I was walking around the kingdom, then he told me he was on the way to meet his future father-in-law, you know, the King? And then, well, I was in the woods when the strangest thing happened.” 

It was only by staring at his hair so long did you notice the odd features. The small black scales merging with his hairline, the unnatural smoothness of his hair without a single strand out of place, even his majestic horns appeared to glimmer in the light. It was easy to get distracted. 

“And… um… oh…! What I was saying is that there was a cottage, and its chimney was spewing this colorful magic.” That seemed to catch his attention, as his gaze which had begun to drift away immediately shifted when his eyes were suddenly transfixed on you and what you were saying. “Turns out, three peasant women live there with a girl exactly like the Princess.” 

“Like the Princess, you say?” The fae slowly turned towards the open balcony, where one could see the entirety of his domain which included those enchanted forests and moors. Past the wall of giant thorns protecting his land and people, in the very distance, it was possible to just barely make out the towering palace where the human royalty resided. A ghost of a wicked smile appeared on his lips. “Twenty years. I have made my old friend suffer for two decades, approximately a third of his short mortal lifespan. Last I heard from my previous courier, is that his Queen was on her deathbed from a terrible illness and the King was slowly going mad.” 

Previous courier… You should’ve expected this. Instantly you felt sick to your stomach. Did Lilia tell him? Or Sebek? But why? They promised! Didn’t they claim to detest liars? Your first instinct was to cover your face with your hands, as if being unable to see anything or hear him would make everything go away. But what good would that be? Sucking in the air through your teeth, you glanced upwards at the ceiling, praying for some sort of miracle or divine intervention. “They didn’t tell you, did they…?” 

“No, my General and knights keep their promises.” Placing a cold pale hand on your head, his fingers threaded carefully through your hair. Part of you expected him to just execute you here and now, turn you to stone himself for lying to him. “I’ve known since you awoke here. My General, Lilia, even gave you a hint. Twice. He had no need to tell me when I see through your eyes and hear through your ears. You see, I made that deal with the original. You took their role, and the curse remained in place.” 

You felt numb. This entire time, every single second, he had been there. Knowing. Listening and watching through your own senses. In. Every. Single. Moment. Nothing could be kept secret. What if he was in your very thoughts? No–– he would’ve mentioned that, wouldn’t he? 

“No, I cannot read your thoughts.” The timbre of his tone caused a shiver to travel up your spine as you straightened up, snapping out of your stupor. If he was telling the truth, which he must’ve been, then he was just very very good at reading others. “As powerful as I may be, I am not omniscient.” 

Carefully gazing up at him, you kept your head down and arms at your side, afraid he would just crush your skull between his digits. “That’s… embarrassing. You’re not, I don’t know, going to turn me into stone or something?” 

“I’m presuming that is the fate you fear is waiting for you at the end of this story.” Black nails curled along your strands of hair, his finger tracing down to your ears as you squeezed your eyes shut in awful anticipation. “Well, you need not fret. You have not told me any lies, you carried out your duty well, and found the Princess that my legion of knights couldn’t locate in twenty years. I would be a fool to turn you to stone.” So he could turn people to stone if he wanted to. “Besides, I find you quite amusing. It made me smile, knowing my enemies suffer and hearing your silly squabbling.”

Inwardly you cringed, recalling every little mistake you made since gaining consciousness in this world. Every stumble and fall, every scream or exclamation, the bickering with his precious knight, playing along with his General, joking with the very Prince that was destined to slay him! Even when you openly dealt with Lilia, openly bargaining with his life for some sort of ending that you could live with. Malleus was aware of each and every second. “Even for… you know, making that deal?” 

“No, I’m not cross.” Eventually his hand fell back to his side, as the malevolent fae continued to peer down at you. It felt wrong to even breathe within his vicinity. “It’s perfectly within human nature for mortals to claw their way towards redemption. The decisions you have made are primarily for yourself, saving me in the process is merely an unintended consequence. We both know this. Know that I am not shaken by your choice in the slightest. Trust me when I say that I know full well of the sins that humans are willing to commit for their own benefit. I know very well that humans will prioritize themselves over all others.” You felt small under his gaze, as he didn’t even blink once. The cool and collected tone of his became somewhat hushed as he mused, “You were destined to be here beside me, I believe. Perhaps as punishment…” 

Slowly you awkwardly nodded along, confirming his last words. “Well, yeah… I’m guessing you heard me say that earlier?” 

Neither acknowledging your response nor replying to it immediately, seconds of prolonged silence passed before he spoke. “That was not what I was referring to.” Instead of elaborating on what he truly meant by those words, he seemed to gloss over them as he continued. “Our fates are tied. Allow me to grant you salvation. Should you help me achieve my goal, I will protect you from the end you so fear. Should you try to save me as you have been doing thus far, I shall save you.” 

Instantly, without even thinking, you stuck your hand. This was earning you his protection, wasn’t it? You were practically under the guard of one of the most powerful beings in the world! Making deals with fae was supposedly a bad idea. However, you already made one deal. What’s the harm in one more? “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Slowly the fae blinked at your extended arm. “Well… I didn’t expect you to come to such a rapid decision. You continue to surprise me with your choices and human customs. A handshake, hm?” An amused smirk made its way onto his features, but it wasn’t ominous or threatening like the expression he wore when mentioning the King. When his hand reached yours, you half expected some mystical green light of magic to seal your fate. But it didn’t happen. Instead, the fae held your hand in a firm grip as he proceeded thoughtfully. “I will not ask personal questions, as you seemed quite adamantly against so much as mentioning your true name when my General asked. Although I must ask you to reveal your plan, besides charming the human Prince.” 

Maybe it was due to the fact that he knew your life was now practically intertwined with his, this provided any reassurance that you wouldn’t betray him along with the extra comfort that he heard and saw everything you do. At this point, personal information would be of little use to him. 

If you wanted your own happily ever after, it would require sabotaging the protagonists and changing the entire end of the story. As you considered your next words, you attempted to pull your hand away from his, only for his iron grip to never falter. “Ah, well, originally the Princess returns to the castle since the curse is almost expired. There, you’re supposed to appear in her chambers when she’s alone, and lure her towards a spinning wheel where she pricks her finger and fulfills the curse. Might I say, I would be very tempted too if I was the Princess and you appeared like that in my chambers–– Anyways! Around the same time, you capture the Prince as he went to the now abandoned cottage to meet with the mysterious girl, the Princess, he met in the woods earlier. But, I may have messed up that last part, ha…” 

After listening to your explanation, Malleus finally let go of your hand. Never did he disrupt, but he listened very very carefully, eyes boring into yours the entire time even as you nervously glanced away every few moments. “I see… It seems this human Prince, Silver, as he’s called, is quite naive. This truth can be said for most young mortals. I do find his hope for peace to be endearing, even if it seems like nothing but a fantasy.” 

Malleus knew about Silver. Of course he did. The fae was probably watching like a hawk as you interacted with the future son-in-law of his sworn enemy. It was a bit of a relief to hear that the fae sovereign didn’t see Silver as an immediate threat, for now at least. Now if only you could appeal to his greater nature, the kindness Sebek claimed his Majesty was capable of. “Maybe we can, possibly, now this is just a thought here–– spare him?” 

Malleus was silent for a long moment, and for a second you feared you may have upset him–– that is until the top of his scepter was against your chin. The smooth end with the cold orb glowing that ominous green, propped up your chin so you couldn’t look away. “Anyone that is willing to extend a hand to me or mine will be rewarded, but know this: I will never trust another human again, not fully. You are the one exception to this, my courier. So I expect you to answer the following. Who is the one that is destined to drive a sword through my heart?” 

That tone of voice sent a shiver throughout your entire body. Once again, you felt small, weak, helpless against the fae as he was peering down at you so intensely. It’s clear he wanted an answer, and he wanted it now. “The… uh… Prince–– but with the help of the three good fairies!” As if mentioning the three good fairies would help his case, now that the fae was fully aware that Silver was the one fated to slay him. 

“Now that does contemplate things. So, you implore me to spare the very mortal meant to end my life? That is quite the request.” Malleus mused, his scepter lowering from your neck as you felt you could finally breathe again. For a moment, the fae lowered his gaze in deep contemplation. It felt like hours of tense silence, as you wondered if he would be agitated that you would suggest such a thing. In reality, it was probably a full minute at most when he lifted his hand to his lower face in contemplation. “Those irritating little pixies will likely defy any orders from me in order to protect the Prince. The three alone are far too weak to do anything of significant value on their own… Is the Prince the only one who works against me?” 

“Technically, yes.” In the story, everyone was placed to sleep too by the three fairies, or pixies, or whatever they were in this rendition. The only one left awake was the Prince. “I think the only reason the Prince in the story stood a chance was because he had the help of the pixies. Everyone else is placed to sleep like the Princess.” 

Malleus nodded to himself, appearing to come up with some sort of arrangement to overcome the obstacles. “Then, I trust this task to you, my courier. While I appear in the Princess’ chambers to lead her to her terrible fate, General Lilia will be in charge of confronting the three pixies, and my Knight Sebek will be responsible for safely guarding you as you convince Prince Silver to abandon any notion of defending the Princess or the King.” 

Immediately your eyes widened, as you fumbled over your words, “Y-You want me to convince him to switch sides?” 

“Something along those lines, yes. The Prince will be of little use to them anyways. True love, the requirement to break the curse I placed upon the Princess, doesn’t exist. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, designed to give the King a sense of false hope so he would fall further into despair when his daughter never awoke. At least, she wouldn’t awake within his lifetime.” Malleus nodded in confirmation. Despite the heavy topic of the conversation that consisted of deceit and possible murder, the fae actually gave a smile. A teasing and wicked one as he hummed, “You wished for me to spare Prince Silver, did you not? This should be an easy task for you. As I recall you said earlier, you have already charmed the Prince. Perhaps I should be jealous of Silver, hm?” 

Why did you have to go and open your big mouth? Why did you have to try and be kind by wanting to save someone that was practically a stranger!? This was bad. Silver wouldn’t leave innocents like that. All you could do was lower your head in your hands and grumble, “I’ll… figure something out.” 

“I’m sure you will.” A deep laughter rumbled from his chest, and although you couldn’t see it, you were sure he was still wearing that smug grin. There was some sort of look in his eyes, something not so menacing, more endearing, but equally as chilling. “The last time I trusted a mortal with my life, it resulted in this entire debacle. I’m certain you won’t betray me as well, hm?” 

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

The same evening, hours before the sun would set and the curse would be broken, you penned a short and brief letter to Silver. With a wave of his hand, Malleus’ magic whisked it away to be delivered instantly. The message was simple: Meet me at the moor’s borders by the wall of thorns as soon as you can. Signed, the courier. 

You still had no idea how you would go about convincing Silver to essentially abandon the King and Princess. While you were contemplating if it was even possible to save this person from facing Malleus’ wrath, you were not at all comforted when Lilia appeared downright delighted to be the one facing the three pixies. It was a tad bit concerning, especially since he went on about having not seen them properly in over two decades and how they had always been a pesky bunch that favored the humans over their own kin. You were not envious of the three in the slightest, especially when you caught sight of Lilia humming to himself as he polished his green cleaver to a brilliant shine. Those poor pixies would have to deal with the General. 

Sebek was hardly any better. While not outright threatening, he droned on and on about what a privilege it was to personally be assigned a task by His Majesty. Which made it difficult for you to keep calm when he spoke of Malleus every single minute, and made it almost impossible for you to focus on the task at hand. 

“––and so you see, because of that wretched human who betrayed Master Malleus to become the king of the human kingdom, our esteemed leader has been wary of all humans and their activities ever since then.” Sebek explained, gripping the reins as he led the way on horseback, with your steed not lingering too far behind. “So the fact that Malleus is willing to offer an olive branch towards the betrothed of the daughter of his enemy, is nothing short of a gift! A mercy granted to a human who likely isn’t worthy of such a thing.” 

As soon as they reached the thorns, the wall seemed to come alive as its vines and branches slithered like snakes. Creating a temporary path for them to pass through without risk of being impaled by giant thorns. Meaning one thing: Malleus was currently watching. 

“Okay then, since you understand how important that is, that means you know not to act out right? I know the Prince is human and all, and I know how you feel about humans, but let me do the talking.” You pleaded as both horses came to a halt right outside the towering barriers. 

“Tsk, please, I am not so uncouth to– OW!” 

Upon spotting a flash of white and silver through the foliage of the forest, you kicked part of the knight’s leg to shut him up. Before he could open his mouth again, you hopped off your horse and worked your way through the underbrush as you came to a small clearing. There, by the stream, was the Prince standing beside his own noble steed that drank from the clean waters. The backdrop of the forest and setting sun already dipping below the horizon, reminded you of how little time was left. 

The Prince must’ve picked up on the sound of rustling and crunching leaves, because he lifted his head towards the source of the noise. When his enchanting gaze met yours, he smiled such a gentle smile and took a step toward you. “Courier.” However, Silver paused, freezing in place as he looked a bit taken aback at the sight of the knight appearing at your side. A fae, a being he’s never met before. 

“Heyyy, Silver. This is my friend Sebek.” Awkwardly you gestured to the knight, giving the fae a look that basically said please, for the love of his Master Malleus, keep his mouth shut for now. “Sebek, this is Silver, local prince and prettiest human I’ve ever met.” 

Sebek looked anything but pleased. It was then you realized that this may have been his first time actually properly meeting a human, as the fae looked a bit uncomfortable. Instead of saying anything, the knight merely crossed his arms and managed a terse, “Pleasure.” Not even a full, it’s a pleasure to meet you. 

This didn’t deter the Prince, or perhaps it went entirely over his head, as he managed a regal nod. Despite the fact that his expression reverted to his usual apathetic nature, there was an unmistakable sparkle in his eyes. Maybe this would work out well after all. 

“It’s very nice to meet you. Any friend of the Courier’s is a friend of mine.” Silver appeared genuinely intrigued, pleased to meet a fae. Any shock melted away into a friendly demeanor as he approached, “I had to sneak out of the palace just to be here, but I’m very glad I did. Did you really remember my words and bring me here for this? I’m touched, Courier.” 

Part of you grimaced as you exchanged knowing looks with Sebek, who thankfully remained silent for now. The knight merely glanced back at the royal before looking back at you, and he gestured with his head as if saying go on. 

“Something like that.” You spoke, mustering a smile as Silver stopped so he was right in front of you and Sebek. Despite knowing that fae were labeled as enemies, Silver didn’t appear fazed in the slightest. That was bound to change as soon as you opened your mouth. Hey, so my boss is about to complete a curse on your fiancée that’ll put her to sleep for who knows how long and three pixies are bound to put the rest of the kingdom to sleep too while a fae General will prevent them from reaching you at all, but I’m gonna have to ask you to come with us if you want to live. You couldn’t just say that! Fumbling for some sort of response, you began awkwardly, “So… you wanted to meet some fae, right?” 

“Of course.” Silver replied immediately, giving Sebek the slightest smile as he spoke softly and sincerely. “It’s a great honor to have this opportunity. Perhaps by talking more with you, Sebek, and explaining to everyone that I met a fae and all went well, it can change their mind and cause some good to happen.” 

Sebek appeared a bit flustered, unaccustomed to praise from a mortal as the knight looked at you for some sort of support. Probably not even expecting it. Quickly, you interjected, “That is great, because I have the perfect opportunity for you. I never told you, because, well, interacting with fae is generally frowned upon by humans but I happen to know the Malleus! I bet I can even get you an audience with him.” 

“You would do that for me?” The Prince’s eyes widened, his naturally soft voice raised ever so slightly. 

“Excuse us!” Sebek’s eyes widened in alarm as he covered his mouth, hissing in your ear as he pulled you away, “What are you doing, you presumptuous fool…?! This was not part of the strategy outlined by the General! You are supposed to convince the human to join us willingly!” 

Furrowing your eyebrows, you exclaimed quietly, “I am…!” Looking over at Silver, you could see the Prince was puzzled but was respectful and kept his distance. Those eyes of his looking up at the nearby wall of thorns as he waited patiently to be included in the conversation. “Look, he’ll thank me later. He’ll come with us because he wants to speak to Malleus, he thinks he can build diplomatic relations. Let him think that! As long as the pixies can’t get to him, Silver isn’t a real threat to Malleus. Hell, we can even convince Lilia to take him in, I really don’t care, as long as he doesn’t interact with the pixies.” 

“That’ll hardly be an issue. Knowing General Lilia, he’s likely thoroughly dealt with the pixies. They’ve been a thorn in the Master’s side for over a century.” Sebek straightened his posture, folding his arms behind his back as he lifted his chin to appear taller. “Just remember, I am your ally. He is not.” 

“Whatever.” Perhaps this was better. If Lilia had permanently dealt with the pixies, then there was no one else to use magic and bless the Prince with a holy sword and shield. There was no other way to defeat The Master of All Evil. It was practically game over, wasn’t it? Turning back to Silver, just as you opened your mouth to speak, a deep and familiar voice echoed from behind you. 

“My courier, is this the Prince you’ve spoken so highly about?” 

You felt your heart drop as Sebek dropped to his knees in a reverent kneel, and even Silver appeared taken aback by the sudden presence of the being that appeared feet away from you. Looking over your shoulder, there he was, hidden in the shadows cast by the trees. You took a step to the side, careful of Sebek, as you made room for The Master of All Evil. When did he get there? “Yeah–– Yes, it is.” 

Malleus approached, seeming to float as he walked, his robes blending in with the shadows that grew longer and the sky darker as the sun had completely set. Why was he here already? Was it done? Had he actually completed the curse on the Princess in such a short time? A realization came to you, which made you freeze. Surely Silver knew how Malleus cursed his fiancée. 

Stepping closer, the fae appeared to take in the sight of the Prince. Silver leaned back a bit, surprised, but seemingly unafraid. They were complete opposites. Silver appeared to embody light and virtue as he was like a warm spring day, while Malleus embodies the cold darkness like the depths of space that swallowed everything in its path. “My courier tells me you wish to establish peace. Such a lofty goal, I’m afraid, but inspiring. Do you not fear me for what I’ve done? You were there that day, as I recall.” 

“I was hoping to ask you to lift the curse.” Silver glanced at you, before returning his attention back to the fae. Despite the fact that he was in front of a being countless times older than him and far more powerful than anything on Earth, the Prince continued, “It’s true, I also want to establish relations. I believe it can do good for both our peoples. But first, my concern is the curse. Although I haven’t truly met the Princess I’m supposed to wed, I’d like to appeal for the curse to be lifted. She is innocent.” 

“What a noble request. Very well, we’ll talk.” Malleus straightened his stance, standing tall even above the Prince. Exchanging a glance with you, there was a knowing glint in his green eyes as he then commanded, “Sebek, rise. Escort our guest, gently, my knight. Gently.”

Silver appeared quick to believe Malleus, perhaps truly hoping that he would be able to make peace with the fae and get that terrible curse lifted. When the knight stood up to lead the way for the Prince, Silver paused to spare a look over his shoulder as he led his steed along. When his gaze landed on you, you witnessed his entire demeanor soften as he managed a grateful nod. It made you feel a pang of guilt. 

Only once the Prince and Knight had disappeared past the wall of thorns, did Malleus turn to you and admit with a flicker of amusement. “Quite the peculiar human you found, my courier.” 

“Someone’s in a good mood.” You note, taking notice of the twinkle in his glowing eyes and the ominous smile on his face that had yet to falter. That had to mean something. Normally he was unsmiling, so it was jarring to see him like this. “Don’t tell me you already…?” 

“I did.” Malleus confirmed with a brief nod, looking quite pleased with himself. 

The confirmation only made you shudder. You knew it would happen. Still, there was a bit of regret you felt deep within your bones. Although, surely it couldn’t be that bad. It’s not like the Princess was murdered. It was just a deep sleep where she would wake up in the future. “And what do you plan to do with Prince Silver?” 

“I told him we would talk. That is the truth. However, I never said I would lift the curse.” A moment passed, and then he proceeded, watching as the thorns slithered back into place to create that impenetrable barrier protecting his lands. “Since you failed to truly convince him, you merely tricked him into stepping into foreign territory, I’ve conjured a suitable alternative. Allowing him to roam within the moors and enchanted forest has little consequence when General Lilia had took it upon himself to rid the world of those three pixies before they could place the human kingdom to sleep. That way, their King will be awake to anguish and mourn his loss, and yet he will find no one to appease his distress. There are not any other magic users that would be willing to act in favor of the Prince or Princess for the King.” In the cold wind, strands of his pitch black hair fluttered and the emerging moon cast a heavenly sort of glow. “The Prince wanted to meet the fae, so let him. He’ll stay. Should he begin to act out, enchantments could be used to make him forget all things troubling him.” 

“You’d let him stay as a guest…? Really?” That was shocking, considering that in the story, the Prince was kept as a temporary prisoner in a dungeon with heavy chains and stone cold walls trapping him underneath the ground. However, maybe his current fate wasn’t so different from that if enchantments would be used to keep him confined within fae territory. “You know what, nevermind, that makes sense.” 

“Hmm… in addition, I thought the human prince would serve as a good distraction. The General finds human nature to be more accepting of his attempts at humor, the Knight seeks a rival in strength which the Prince is capable of. It seems like a natural fit.” 

With a curl of his finger, some invisible force dragged you closer to him, despite your squirming, it didn’t stop until you were an inch apart and his shadow loomed over yours. Those glowing green eyes that were the bane of many, leered down at you. 

“Which allows you to spend more time with me and solely me. I was betrayed once by a human before, I’m sure you’ve figured this out already. This time, it shall not happen again, I have made sure of it. As naive as you may be, I know you are not so foolish to ever turn on me, especially upon seeing the extent I go to in order to exact revenge upon those who wronged me… So, for your loyalty, I will reward you with lavish riches, wondrous glory, and my undivided attention. Is there anything else your heart desires, my Precious Courier?”

[slvttyplum]

sukuna and valentine’s day—ever think you would see those three words together? sukuna didn’t get the whole point of valentine’s day but did it anyway just for you, still grumpy and groaning while picking out your favorite things from the store. “here, i got you the damn flowers and chocolates; now stop pestering me.” looking at your smile made his heart full; he couldn’t help but make you happy even if that meant spending money on a “holiday” he denied time and time again. of course, that was just the end result. smiling at you for a few seconds before he began to whine again. he did the same shit every year where the both of you would go back and forth about valentine’s day, and he would groan, saying he wasn’t getting you anything. “use your brain! this is what they want you to do; i’m not getting that damn bag.” then, in the next breath, he would ask how much the purse was—“just in case”—while saying there was only a five percent chance of that happening. sukuna didn’t know peace; he always found a way to put his two cents in when it was time to celebrate something. after finally getting to valentine’s day and admiring how beautiful you looked, his eyes full of love, he just couldn’t let you have the last word. it was foreign to him. he had to let you know every thought that was going through his head; it was only fair since he went ahead and spoiled you, right? “you’re spoiled rotten. i still think this is a load of bull.” a fight all over again, the fight eventually leading to the pretty decorated bedroom he tried his hardest to set up, but it didn’t go to waste, nor did it stop the argument. sukuna’s hands on your hips as he slammed into you, grunting, he tried to talk and spit out more points, but he was consumed by pleasure. he had a fucking loose screw because he was still arguing with you while he stretched you out. “fuck… i just think you need to be appreciative.” while you squeezed around him, sukuna was still trying to prove his point, but he couldn’t think when his cum was dripping out of you. even having the audacity to have you ride him because his leg cramped up, just to keep running his filthy ass mouth. it was all worth it at the end of the day, at least for you; he still found something to complain about, but neither of you would have it any other way. “… you’re not getting anything next year; i’m serious.” until next time. ;)

[rizzanon]

Babysitter

a damian wayne and batsis! reader oneshot ft. jon kent | m.list

Summary: your brother forces you to take him and his bestfriend along with you to wherever you’re going

You had a plan. A flawless, well-thought-out, foolproof plan.

Step one: Move quietly.

Step two: Avoid creaky floorboards.

Step three: Do not alert Damian Wayne, resident bloodhound.

You had your hand on the doorknob, your shoes were on.

You had one foot out the door. No one in sight. Freedom just within reach—

“Going somewhere?”

Your whole body froze.

Goddamnit it.

You knew that voice.

You closed your eyes, inhaled sharply through your nose, and prayed to whatever higher power was listening that maybe—just maybe—if you ignored him, he’d disappear.

No such luck.

A second voice, softer but just as damning, followed.

“Uh, I told him we should just let you go, but…”

You sighed. Of course.

With a slow turn, you met the unimpressed stare of Damian Wayne, standing in the dim hallway like the world’s smallest, most judgmental security system. His arms were crossed, his expression far too smug for someone who had no business being awake right now. And right beside him, slightly hunched and looking far too apologetic, was Jon Kent.

You stared at them. They stared back.

Finally, you spoke.

“I knew I should’ve left through the window.”

Jon winced. “Sorry. Again, I did say we should just let you go—”

“But he didn’t,” you deadpanned, shooting a look at Damian.

Damian tilted his head, unbothered. “Because you’re sneaking out.”

You scoffed. “I am not sneaking out—”

“You’re leaving without me. That’s the same thing.”

“It is not—”

“Semantics.”

You groaned louder. “Oh my God, I hate you.”

“Likewise,” Damian said flatly.

Jon, still watching this exchange like a confused referee, hesitantly raised a hand. “I feel like I should stop this.

At the exact same time, without missing a beat, you and Damian both turned to him and snapped—

“You stay out of this.”

Jon immediately took a step back, hands up in surrender. “Ah. Alright.”

You dragged a hand down your face, inhaling slowly before fixing your glare on Damian again.

“So,” you said, voice strained, “what do you want, Damian?”

Damian ignored your question. “Where are you going?”

You deadpanned. “Out.”

“Out where?”

“It’s none of your business.”

Wrong answer.

“Tt. Incorrect. It is my business, because you’re taking us with you.”

You blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me.”

“No, yeah, I heard you. I just don’t think I should have.”

Jon stepped in, looking a little apologetic. “Sorry, he kinda roped me into this,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

You gave him a flat look before turning back to Damian. “And why, exactly, would I do that?”

“To accompany you.”

“Why?”

“You require supervision.”

You stared.

“…I require— Damian, I’m older than you.”

“By an unfortunate number of years, yes.”

You inhaled sharply, clenching your fists. “I don’t need supervision, you little gremlin.”

Jon cleared his throat. “To be fair, I think he means he needs supervision.”

You stared. “You require— Damian, you’re forcing me to babysit you?”

“Tt. Babysit is a strong word.”

“That’s literally what’s happening.”

“I prefer guardian escort.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Yet here we are.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling deeply before muttering, “Where’s Alfred?”

“Out.”

“Dick?”

“Busy.”

“Tim?”

“Comatose, most likely.”

“Cass?”

“Training.”

“Jason?”

“Wouldn’t care.”

Your eye twitched. “And Dad?”

Damian raised an unimpressed brow.

“…Right,” you muttered.

Jon shot you another apologetic smile. “So, uh… that just leaves you?”

You let your head fall back with a long, suffering groan. “You are not going out with me.”

“And you’re supposed to be grounded.”

“That’s why I’m sneaking out, dipshit.”

There was a brief silence.

Damian let out a long, dramatic sigh, like you were the most exhausting person alive. “You continue to delude yourself if you think you’ll be able to succeed in sneaking out.”

“I hate you.”

Jon cleared his throat. “Um—”

Your expression softened immediately as you turned to him. “Not you, Jon. You’re fine. You’re good. Damian’s the problem.”

Jon blinked. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a tiny, bashful smile, cheeks just a little pink.

“Oh. Uh. Thanks?”

Damian, meanwhile, squinted. “What the hell?”

You ignored him, turning back to Jon. “See? This is how you behave, Damian. Maybe take notes.”

Damian’s scowl deepened. “I am nice.”

You snorted. “To who?”

“To you.” Damian snapped, like it was obvious.

Jon let out a tiny, poorly suppressed laugh.

You shot him a look. “Jon. Don’t encourage him.”

“Sorry,” Jon said, not looking sorry at all.

Damian scoffed. “So where are you even going?”

“Out.”

“Not without us.”

You stared. “No. Absolutely not.”

Damian just blinked.

Jon shuffled a little, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. “I mean… if you don’t want us to come, that’s okay, I guess…”

And there it was.

The puppy-dog eyes.

You winced.

Damn it.

Jon Kent had mastered the art of looking genuinely dejected, and it was so unfair.

You hesitated. Pressed your lips together. “…It’s not that I don’t want you to come, it’s just—”

“Great,” Damian interrupted. “Then let’s go.”

You groaned. “That’s not what I meant—”

“You’re not exactly convincing me otherwise.”

“I will fight you.”

“I will win.”

Jon coughed. “This feels counterproductive.”

You shot him a betrayed look. “Jon. I thought we were friends.”

Jon rubbed the back of his neck. “I do want to go, though…”

Your eye twitched. You knew he was being genuine. But damn, he was dangerously good at making you feel so mean. You sighed heavily, staring at the ceiling like it held all the answers.

“I hate being the responsible one.”

Damian smirked. “Then be irresponsible and take us with you.”

You snapped your head back down to glare at him. “That’s not how this works, moron.”

Jon stifled a laugh.

Damian just tilted his head, completely unfazed. “Yet here we are.”

You clenched your jaw. Closed your eyes. Took a very deep breath.

Then, begrudgingly—

“Fine.”

Jon brightened. “Really?”

You shot him a look. “Not like I have a choice, apparently.”

Damian’s smirk widened, victorious.

“But there are rules.”

You pushed the door open, already regretting everything. “One: No causing trouble. Two: No running off. Three—” You turned sharply to glare at Damian. “No murder.”

Jon blinked. “That has to be a rule?”

You looked at him, dead serious. “You’d be surprised.”

Damian scoffed. “You act as if I lack self-control.”

“You literally tried to stab a man at the grocery store last week.”

“He cut in line.”

“You pulled out a knife, Damian.”

“And?”

Jon looked as if he was used to this.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “You are literally going to be the death of me.”

“Unlikely,” Damian deadpanned.

Jon patted your arm sympathetically. “It’s okay. Breathe.”

“I don’t want to breathe.”

“Understandable, but necessary.”

Damian scoffed. “Are you done yet?”

“Oh, I’m done,” you muttered, pushing open the door. “So done.”

And with that, you stepped outside, the two boys following close behind.

This was going to be a long day.

The night air was crisp, Gotham’s usual symphony of distant sirens, honking cars, and murmured conversations blending into the background as you walked down the quiet streets. The dim glow of streetlights cast long shadows across the sidewalk, but your focus was on the two boys trailing beside you.

Jon was practically buzzing with excitement, barely able to keep himself from skipping as he shot off rapid-fire questions.

“So, what were you going to do?”

You hummed. “What do you think I was gonna do?”

Jon tilted his head. “Go fight bad guys?”

You chuckled. “Nope.”

“Scout for intel?”

“Nope.”

“Secret mission?”

“Jon,” you laughed, ruffling his hair. “Hold your horses, kid. We’re doing nothing of that sort. Not when I’m around.”

Jon pouted but grinned anyway, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt. “Well, then what are we doing?”

Before you could answer, you caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of your eye.

Damian.

The boy had taken two steps to the side, eyes locked on the nearest alleyway, looking entirely too ready to vanish into the night.

“Oh, hell no.”

You reached out, snagging the back of his hoodie and pulling him to a halt.

“That goes for you too, mister,” you said, voice firm.

Damian let out an audible groan. “Tt.”

Jon blinked, confused. “Uh—what exactly was he about to do?”

“Disappear into the shadows”

Jon turned to Damian, frowning. “Dude.”

Damian merely sniffed, looking vaguely offended at the idea that he of all people needed babysitting. “I was merely about to scout the area for any dangers.”

You gave him a flat look. “We’re on a sidewalk, Damian.”

“And?”

You exhaled sharply. “You are not ditching me.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“Tt. You have no proof.”

“I have a brain.”

Jon held up a finger. “Technically, that’s not proof—”

You turned to him, exasperated. “Jon.”

“Right, right, sorry.”

Damian crossed his arms, unimpressed. “So, what are we doing?”

You just smiled.

Luxurious. That was the only word for the place you were in.

Soft, ambient lighting filled the space, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. The gentle sound of water trickling from an ornamental fountain mixed with the low, soothing hum of instrumental music playing from hidden speakers. A faint scent of lavender, eucalyptus, and something faintly citrusy hung in the air, lulling your body into relaxation almost instantly.

You let out a slow sigh, sinking further into the plush lounge chair as the nail technician expertly shaped your nails. Across from you, Jon was already wrapped up in a fluffy white robe, a cooling face mask spread across his skin, and a woman massaging his shoulders. He looked blissful.

Damian, on the other hand, was sitting stiffly in a massage chair, arms crossed, looking like he was being subjected to cruel and unusual punishment. His expression was set into a deep scowl, but you didn’t miss the way his shoulders had started to relax under the therapist’s touch—albeit reluctantly.

You smirked, wiggling your fingers as the technician moved on to buffing your nails. “Well?”

“Tt.”

Damian’s eyes were shut as if that alone could block out his misery. “You dragged us to a spa.”

You grinned. “I treated you to a spa.”

Damian let out another Tt.

You turned to him, amused. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying this.”

Damian scowled. “I don’t see the point.”

“The point,” you drawled, stretching your legs, “is relaxation.”

“I don’t need relaxation.”

“You literally live with Bruce Wayne. You need it the most.”

Jon let out a snort of laughter.

Damian shot him a glare. “Shut up, Kent.”

Jon just grinned wider, looking far too content. “Nope.”

You chuckled, letting your head fall back against the chair. “Face it, Damian. You like it here.”

“I hate this.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I loathe you.”

You didn’t miss the way his shoulders had slowly started to loosen.

Or the way his scowl wasn’t as deep as before.

“You love me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

Jon let out a happy sigh, sinking deeper into his chair. “I knew you had a good plan.”

You shot him finger guns. “Always do.”

Jon chuckled, then suddenly let out a little noise of contentment as the massage therapist pressed into his shoulders just right. He melted into the chair, the sheer bliss evident on his face.

“Aww,” you cooed, reaching over to gently pat his head. “Look at you, kid. Living the life.”

Jon made a happy little noise in response, fully leaning into the massage.

Damian scowled. “Are you coddling him?”

“Yes,” you said immediately.

Damian scoffed. “Ridiculous.”

You smirked. “Oh, I’m sorry, would you like to be coddled?”

Damian’s entire face twisted into disgust. “Absolutely not.”

You laughed, nudging Jon. “See? He’s jealous.”

Jon barely opened one eye, too relaxed to care. “Yep.”

Damian turned his glare to him now. “Shut up, Kent.”

Jon just smiled. “Just saying the truth, Damian.”

“You wish.”

You stifled a laugh, watching Damian attempt to shrink further into his chair, clearly regretting ever coming along. You were definitely going to remind him of this later.

The spa had been a fantastic idea—well, for you and Jon, at least.

Damian? Not so much.

At first, he acted as if he were enduring actual torture. When they tried to give him a robe, he scowled as if they’d offered him poison. When they led him to the massage chair, he sat down stiffly, arms crossed, eyes darting around as though expecting an assassination attempt. The moment the massage therapist placed their hands on his shoulders, his entire body locked up.

“This is unnecessary,” Damian muttered as you and Jon stifled your laughter.

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, leaning back as a technician buffed your nails. “Completely unnecessary. That’s why you’re staying right there and relaxing.”

“I am always relaxed.”

You and Jon shared a look.

Jon, his face already covered in a cooling mask, turned toward Damian. “Dude, your entire body is clenched like a steel beam.”

“Tt. I am merely prepared.”

“Prepared for what? A surprise attack by the scented candles?” you teased.

Damian glared at you, but then the massage therapist hit a particular spot on his back, and you swore you saw his soul briefly leave his body. His lips parted slightly, eyes fluttering for a split second before he forcibly locked himself down again, pretending nothing had happened.

“Oh my god,” you grinned. “You liked that.”

Damian turned his head away, nose upturned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

But he did shift ever so slightly to let the massage therapist work deeper into his back. You and Jon exchanged victorious smirks but wisely didn’t comment further.

Well—except for Jon’s quiet, “Told you you’d like it.”

Damian kicked him under the table.

After a tedious amount of time, Damian had finally let himself relax. Not entirely—he was still Damian, after all—but enough that he no longer looked like he wanted to eviscerate someone.

Jon, meanwhile, had been living the dream since the moment you arrived. You’d made sure to book an extensive package for him, complete with a massage, a face mask, a manicure, and even a foot scrub.

The problem?

Jon’s Kryptonian genes.

The poor spa technicians had no idea what they had signed up for.

It started when they tried using a gua sha stone on his face.

The second they dragged the tool across his cheek, there was a horrifying screech—the sound of something hard scraping against something impenetrable.

The esthetician froze, blinking at the gua sha in her hand.

Jon winced. “Uh…”

Then she tried again. More forcefully.

SCCCRRREEEEEEE—

Damian cringed as the sound echoed through the room, making your ears ring. “That is unbearable.”

“I—I don’t think it’s supposed to sound like that,” Jon said weakly.

The esthetician, determined, switched to a jade roller.

The exact same thing happened.

“Okay,” the woman murmured, frowning. “We’ll, uh, circle back to that.”

Then came the body scrub.

Which was supposed to be exfoliating.

Except the scrub was doing nothing.

Jon, ever the polite one, just smiled sheepishly as the technician literally pushed down with all her strength, trying to get some kind of reaction.

“…You don’t feel anything?” she asked, breathless.

“Uh.” Jon paused. “I mean. It’s kinda nice?”

Damian looked deeply entertained. “This is absurd.”

You nudged him. “You’re absurd.”

“Tt.”

Then came the nail buffing.

Oh, the nail buffing.

The technician tasked with filing Jon’s nails was genuinely putting her whole body into it. You could see her arm muscles flexing as she went back and forth, desperately trying to shape his nails with an emery board that had already worn down to nothing.

At one point, she wiped her forehead. “Are you sure you’re not wearing, like… armor?”

Jon laughed nervously. “Nope, this is, uh, all-natural.”

The woman blinked. Then, deciding to just accept that reality was being weird today, simply nodded.

“Alright,” she said. “We’ll… figure something out.”

Jon beamed. “Thanks!”

You patted his head. “Good job, buddy.”

Jon grinned. “I think this is nice.”

And truly, it was. You were finally getting a break, Damian had sort of warmed up to the experience, and Jon was having the time of his life.

It was peaceful.

It was relaxing.

It was exactly what you needed.

So, of course, something had to go wrong.

The peace was shattered by the sound of screaming outside.

Your head snapped toward the spa entrance just in time to see a group of civilians running past in a panic. Then—explosions.

And the unmistakable whir of something mechanical.

You bolted upright.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

Jon was already standing, ripping the robe off and revealing his Superboy costume underneath.

Damian, meanwhile, pulled a full Batman move by seemingly materializing his utility belt and weapons out of nowhere.

Before you could even say anything, the two boys were gone—leaping straight out the spa’s open balcony.

You turned to the wide-eyed spa staff, letting out a long sigh.

“Boys being boys, am I right?” You forced a smile, desperately trying to cover up the awkwardness of the situation. “They’re die-hard fans for action. Can’t help themselves.”

For a brief moment, the room was silent as the estheticians exchanged confused glances.

Then, in the most awkward and abrupt way possible, you scrambled to grab your purse, fumbling around as you threw an absolutely ridiculous sum of cash onto the counter—enough to more than cover the treatments, plus a hefty tip for the staff that definitely deserved more than a little credit for surviving this spa chaos.

The technicians just stared at the money, stunned into silence.

You didn’t stick around for questions.

You bolted after the two boys—still wrapped in your robe, your hair tied up in a towel, and your face mask half-finished.

You were praying—praying—that the day would somehow not end up on the news—though you knew full well that was already a lost cause. But hey, at least you were going to have one heck of a story to tell.

You finally made it to the street corner, and saw Amazo-tech robots rampaging through the streets, blasting apart cars and sending civilians running. Jon was in the air, flying between them, lasers shooting from his eyes as he took them down one by one. Damian was on the ground, expertly maneuvering around, slicing through the robots’ weak points.

You were impressed.

But you were also trying not to yell at the two boys.

Because Damian was still wearing his spa robe over his Robin suit.

And Jon still had his facial mask on.

“Just once,” you muttered to yourself, laughing despite the absurdity. “Just once, I want a normal day out.”

But then again, in Gotham, that was never going to happen.

The Batcave had never felt so… tense. The lights flickered above, casting shadows that seemed to mirror the dark expressions of the adults standing before you. You, Damian, and Jon stood side by side, feeling the weight of their scrutiny.

Bruce was standing at the forefront, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his eyes narrow and calculating. Alfred, behind him, looked as if he were about to take away all your privileges for the rest of your lives. Clark had one hand over his face, clearly trying to stifle an impending headache, while Lois had her fingers pressed to the bridge of her nose, fighting the urge to explode in frustration.

The silence stretched on, suffocating. Then, finally, Bruce spoke, his voice quiet but stern.

“So,” he said, voice level. “Would you care to explain yourselves?”

Before you could even open your mouth—

“It was her idea,” Damian said immediately, pointing at you.

Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me—”

He met your glare with a simple, “You were the adult in charge.”

You gaped at him. “Oh, so now I’m the adult?! When I was paying for the spa day, you were more than happy to—”

“Tt.”

“Don’t you ‘Tt’ me, you little shit..!”.”

Bruce let out a long, suffering sigh.

Jon cleared his throat. “It all worked out, though. We saved the day, didn’t we?”

The adults all exchanged a look, their faces unreadable for a moment. Lois then shakes her head and pulled out her phone, tapping something before showing the screen.

It was a photo.

A civilian had snapped a very clear picture of the battle—showing Robin, still in his spa robe, kicking an Amazo-robot in the face while Superboy, face still covered in a facial mask, was mid-air punching another.

It was already trending.

Jon looked at it.

Then, sheepishly, he shrugged.

“…It was nice...?”

Clark just let out a hearty chuckle.

“Well, it’s a memorable way to save Gotham. At least you three enjoyed yourselves.” he said, earning a small chuckle from Lois.

Bruce closed his eyes, clearly questioning his life choices. He rubbed his temples as Lois and Clark just share a look. “….We will discuss this later. Go and get yourselves cleaned up.”

It’s safe to say that your grounding just got a whole lot longer.

i had this as a scene to write for undoing fate but it didn’t quite fit into it as much as i’d like it to so it became a oneshot outside of it instead (completely unrelated to undoing fate but you can imagine it happening between chapter 7-9 when they’re posted lol) but hope you guys enjoyed this 🫶

taglist (open): @k1arar3 @kingshitonly @rainnyydaysworld @ceridwyn3 @darkfaethedestroyer @blueiones @strwberryglass @lithiumval @thephantomdanny @eli-mayhaveatencats @rockyeatrock @dreaming-of-the-reality @shirp-collector-of-fixations @gneepgnorpsneepsnorp @skerbablo @dind1n @gwyneveire @yukixies @kristalag @greantii | ask to be added <3

[wvyik]

quit pouting, winchester’ d.w. ꩜ .ᐟ

dean winchester x fem! reader

summary; dean gets all jealous over something super dumb (he’d never admit it though), and ends up pouting until you kiss him to make him stop being so ridiculous.

warnings; a hint of possessiveness, jealousy with unreasonable doubts, (duh) make out sesh, but other than that — just pure fluff, because this man is soft for you no matter how much he tries to act tough. don’t kiss and drive kids!!

notes; this is my first fic ever!! send some love. thanks so much for reading through my yap sesh. ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

words; 1008

Dean Winchester is pouting.

And, yeah, he’d probably rather die than admit it, but it’s so obvious it’s almost embarrassing. Arms crossed, jaw tight, barely sparing you a glance as he sulks in the driver’s seat of the Impala. You’d think you just crashed Baby into a brick wall with how pissed he looks.

“De.. what is wrong with you?” you finally ask, leaning against the window to look at him.

“Nothin’,” he mutters, gripping the steering wheel like it personally offended him. Nothing, my ass.

You narrow your eyes. “Dean.”

“Nothin’, i already told you.” he repeats, this time with even less conviction.

You huff, shifting in your seat so you’re fully facing him now. “Oh my God, you are such a bad liar.”

He scoffs. “I’m a great liar, trust me.”

“Not to me.”

And, that shuts him up for a second. His fingers tighten on the wheel, his mouth pressing into that stubborn, self-righteous little frown he gets whenever he knows he’s losing but refuses to admit it.

You smirk, slowly realizing what could be the cause of his state. “Oh my God, you’re jealous.”

Dean’s head snaps toward you so fast you think he might give himself whiplash. “What?”

You lean in, grinning now. “You totally are.” you say with a soft chuckle, as if the thought of him being jealous is the most hilarious thing in the whole world.

He rolls his eyes, trying so hard to play it cool, but his ears are so red. “Pfft. Yeah, right.”

“You so are.”

Dean exhales sharply, turning his attention back to the road like the empty highway is the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. You can practically hear the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out how to dig himself out of this one.

“You’re acting all weird,” you point out, watching him squirm. “You’ve been quiet for the last hour. You barely even yelled at that dude who cut you off.”

Dean clenches his jaw. He knows you’ve got him.

“So,” you press, “what’s got your panties in a twist, huh?” As if you already don’t know.

He grumbles something under his breath. Oh, he’s embarrassed. You could tell.

You blink. “What?”

More grumbling.

“Dean.” you repeated, hoping for him to finally speak up.

He exhales roughly, hands flexing on the steering wheel. Then, finally, he mutters, “Nothin’. Just— dude was flirting with you, ‘s all.”

You blink. Then blink again. “Are you talking about the gas station cashier?” Dean says nothing. Which is an answer in itself. Oh, this is too good.

You burst out laughing. “Oh my God, Dean, he barely said two words to me.”

“Yeah? And he was lookin’ at you like a damn puppy,” Dean grumbles. “Like he had a shot.”

You shake your head, biting back a smile. “That is so stupid.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugs, jaw still tight. “‘S stupid to you.”

And okay, yeah, now you kind of feel bad, because he’s being ridiculous, but also kind of… sad about it? Not that he’d ever admit it, but the way he’s gripping the wheel, the way his lips are pressed tight like he’s trying to keep everything in—he actually cares about this. About you.

Which means he deserves to suffer just a little longer.

You scoot closer, pressing your chin to his shoulder. “You know you’re the only one I want, right?”

Dean stays silent, but you feel the way his grip on the wheel loosens. His jaw twitches when you press a slow, lingering kiss to his cheek. You smirk. Oh, he’s melting.

So, you push further, brushing your lips along the sharp edge of his jaw, taking your sweet time. You can feel the tension in him shift— not gone, but different. Like he’s holding his breath, waiting for what you’ll do next.

He clears his throat, but his voice comes out rough. “Yeah. ‘Course.”

You hum, letting your lips trail just a little lower. “Then quit pouting.”

“I ain’t—”

You shut him up with a proper kiss.

And at first, he barely moves—like he wasn’t expecting it, like it takes him a second to catch up. But the second he does, oh, you’ve got him.

Dean exhales through his nose, tilting his head to meet you fully, and then he’s kissing you like he’s making up for lost time. His hand finally lets go of the steering wheel, landing firm and warm against your thigh, fingers flexing like he’s grounding himself.

You don’t hesitate to deepen it, shifting in your seat to turn toward him, your hand moving up to cup his jaw. He’s warm, rough with stubble, and you take your time exploring it, feeling the way his breath stutters when you scrape your nails lightly along the edge.

Dean groans— low, quiet, but wrecked— and then he’s pulling you closer, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your neck. The Impala swerves slightly.

You pull back just enough to whisper, breathless, “Dean, focus.”

“Tryin’,” he mutters, voice low and strained. “You’re makin’ it real hard, sweetheart.”

You grin, fingers tangling in the short hair at the nape of his neck. “Ain’t that the point?..”

Dean exhales sharply, like he’s trying so hard to keep his cool, but he’s losing. And you? You’re having the time of your life watching him come undone.

You lean in again, kissing him slow and deep, dragging it out just to make him suffer. He sighs into it, fingers pressing just a little tighter into your skin, like he doesn’t want to let go.

Eventually— reluctantly— you pull back, just enough to look at him. His pupils are almost brown in this lightning, lips pink and kiss-swollen, chest rising and falling a little faster than before.

You smirk. “Told you you were pouting.”

Dean exhales, shaking his head with a grumble—but the way he looks at you? The way his thumb traces absently against your knee, like he’s memorizing the shape of you?

Yeah. You definitely won this one.

tysm for reading! more works incoming @ library. ⊹₊⟡⋆

[luvergirl-866]

i don’t see what anyone could see in anyone else (but you)

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 6.0k

c/w - fluff, they’re both annoying and sassy, p has adhd highkey (twin)

a/n - inspired by the let’s be honest p annoying a video. i just love the girlfriends but best friends first dynamic iykwim 😣. also took a lot of inspo from some tiktok lives 🩷 anyway yeah this is stupid and late for v day but better than nothing!!

It has been a good week.

On Sunday, Azzi made it a point to spend the day getting ahead on schoolwork as much as she could. Coach had been hinting at a grueling upcoming practice week and Azzi knows herself well enough to know she’d end up putting school on the back burner anyway. And that’s exactly what happened, because come Monday, every time she left a class with homework it would end up in her desk, left there to rot until basketball wasn’t her main priority anymore.

Coach hadn’t been lying—he never is about those things. Practice was torture, often running hours into the night as the girls were made to play again and again until they were good enough in Geno’s eyes. But Azzi had been one of the few on the team who loved it, feeling just as renewed as she was drained after each practice. The more exhausted she got, the longer practice went on, the better she performed. It was unusual for her and it struck up a certain confidence, creating a subtle pep in her step everywhere she went.

The only downside to the week was the lack of Paige Time. It’s been like that for quite some time now—really, ever since basketball season started. After the long summer spent basically attached at the hip, the school year was a rude awakening for them and November was even ruder. They were juggling basketball, school, marketing, and their own personal endeavors—especially Paige’s as she prepares to declare. On top of all that, finding time to love on each other has been difficult, if not impossible. Besides for a few kisses in passing and minor flirting in practice, they really only see each other at bedtime and briefly in the mornings.

Which is why, when Azzi wakes up in her girlfriend’s room, she can’t help but smile a little to herself before she’s even really awake. Because it’s Saturday, and the sun is shining through the curtains, and most importantly, they have nowhere to be today.

She can feel Paige’s presence behind her, and can hear the TikToks playing on her phone, signaling she’s already awake. Actually, TikTok might’ve been what woke Azzi in the first place. Now that she’s really waking up, she realizes that Paige has her phone speakers turned up way too high, and a pang of sleepy irritability goes through her. “Babe,” she mumbles into her pillow, “turn that down.”

Thankfully, the tinny noises stop, but they’re quickly replaced by the familiar teasing tone in her girlfriend’s voice. “Look who’s finally awake.”

“What time is it?” Azzi yawns, eyes still closed.

“9:30,” Paige replies.

At that, Azzi snuggles further into the blankets, the scent of Paige enveloping her. “Not even that early,” she says. “Might go back to sleep.”

“Can I wake you up at ten?” Paige asks. “I’m bored.”

“Yes,” Azzi concedes, used to Paige’s neediness, “you can wake me up at ten.”

“Aight,” Paige says, sounding pleased with herself.

Azzi shifts, feeling a little lonely what with Paige all the way on her side of the bed. They’ve had a whole conversation at this point, yet she’s still yet to receive a good morning kiss. It’s off-putting, to be honest. She expects Paige, ever the affectionate one in their relationship, to sidle up beside her now that she’s semi-awake.

Instead, to her shock, the TikTok sounds start back up again. And they’re just as loud as before.

“Paige,” Azzi exclaims, finally cracking her eyes open, turning over her shoulder to find Paige propped up against the headboard, staring calmly at her.

“Hm?” she asks.

Azzi sighs. She hates having to ask for the things she wants. Usually, Paige just magically knows and provides it for her. She must be too busy on stupid TikTok to remember she has a girlfriend who needs attending to.

In lieu of asking straight-up, Azzi reaches back, grasping for Paige’s thigh and looking up at her with big brown eyes.

Immediately, Paige tosses her phone to the side, chuckling. “Mm. Sorry, princess.” Sliding down under the covers, she situates herself closer until she’s hovering above her, close enough to drop a chaste kiss on her lips. “You wanna cuddle?”

“Obviously,” Azzi mutters, reaching up for one more kiss before turning back over, sighing when Paige snuggles up behind her.

“You gotta little attitude this morning,” Paige helpfully observes, nuzzling into the crook of Azzi’s neck.

Azzi closes her eyes, trying to let sleep call to her as it was just a minute ago. “Just miss you,” she says, a little vulnerable in the way she says it—and maybe that’s also due to the minimal clothes they’re wearing, the skin-on-skin contact always making her feel safe and comforted and exposed all at once.

Paige tuts sympathetically, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. “I know, baby.” There’s a beat of silence as they shift, Paige’s hand running over her stomach, trailing up to one of her breasts. “Missed you, too.”

As much as the touch turns Azzi on, it’s less the sexuality of it and more the sheer domesticity; the way they know each other’s bodies well enough to be comfortable with wandering hands that aren’t meant to lead anywhere. She breathes deep as Paige holds her gently, then clasps a hand over her’s, keeping her in place.

It’s only another minute before she’s drifting off again, Paige’s even breaths in her ear lulling her to sleep.

It’s peaceful—maybe the most relaxed she’s been all week. But as she lays there, trying to get a few more minutes of sleep, Paige’s breathing changes just a split second before she’s speaking too loudly in Azzi’s ear, “I’m hungry.”

Azzi startles a little at the sudden interruption. Her eyes fly open, though only to shoot a glare at her girlfriend. “Paige!”

“What? I am.” Paige frowns, pulling away to sit up and rub her stomach forlornly. “You took too long to wake up.”

Azzi sighs, rolling over onto her back. “I thought you were gonna let me sleep until ten.”

Paige shrugs at that, making big puppy eyes at her, and Azzi resigns to the fact that she will not be getting any more sleep this morning.

“Fine,” she grumbles, sitting up with some effort. “But I’m gonna shower first.”

She stands up, Paige’s eyes tracking her from where she sits on the bed. She whistles lowly as Azzi makes her way to the closet, likely due to the fact that she’s only wearing a pair of sheer panties. Azzi rolls her eyes, pulling on a pair of clothes for the walk down the hall.

Paige, of course, trails her to the bathroom, situating herself on the floor while Azzi starts the water. She watches intently as Azzi undresses, and Azzi catches her pout just as she’s stepping inside.

“What?” Azzi asks when she sees her expression.

“Can I come in with you?” Paige asks.

The offer is tempting, but Azzi is still sore from last night and in all honestly, she’s not in the mood after Paige rudely woke her this morning. “No. I’m only gonna be like five minutes.”

“I can help you.”

“I think I got it,” Azzi laughs, pouring soap onto her washcloth—something she is perfectly capable of doing by herself.

Paige stands up, walking over to Azzi’s phone on the counter. “Okay, then lemme play your music.”

Azzi doesn’t really have time to protest before Bossman Dlow is blasting far too loud over the speakers, and Paige picks up a hairbrush, admiring herself in the mirror as she sings. Azzi rolls her eyes, refocusing her efforts on cleaning up.

Paige looks over and catches the unamused look on her face. “Oh, sorry,” she says sincerely, picking up another hairbrush and holding it out. “You wanted a mic too?”

Azzi sighs. She gets the feeling she’ll be doing a lot of that today.

————————————

It’s not until awhile later that they finally get to the kitchen—mostly due to the fact that Paige kept showing her videos and making commentary while she tried to do her hair, causing the whole endeavor to take a lot longer than it should’ve. Ironically, Paige is the one whining about this by the time they’re finally ready.

“Bro, now I’m really hungry,” she says, continuing to rub her belly a bit like a pregnant lady—which makes Azzi giggle—as she heads to the fridge.

“What should we have, mama?” she asks. Then, as Azzi’s thinking about it, she says, “You’re right, pancakes sound good.”

Azzi hefts herself onto the counter. “Never said that.”

“You took too long to answer,” Paige replies simply. She roots through the fridge for another minute before sighing, turning around to face her. “Do we need milk to make pancakes?”

“Do you have pancake mix?”

“Um…” Paige walks to the pantry at this, taking another minute to search that before once again sighing dramatically. “No.”

“Then, yes. We need milk.”

“Why, though?” Paige asks, frowning. “Shouldn’t water work the same?”

Azzi scrunches her nose up at the thought of water pancakes. “Ew. No.”

Paige shakes her head at her. “Okay, Miss Picky.”

“I know you’re not talking.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Azzi hops off the counter, patting Paige’s chest as she walks past her to the entryway, searching for Paige’s keys. “C’mon, we can go grab some real quick.”

Azzi finds the keys and holds them out expectantly, unsurprised when Paige takes them without hesitation. “I guess. But no fucking around.”

They leave the apartment, and Azzi raises a brow as she watches Paige lock up. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” Paige says, taking her hand and beginning to walk, “we get in, get the milk, and go.”

Azzi swings their hands mindlessly between them. “If I’m remembering right, you’re the one who’s currently unmedicated.”

“Yeah, and I’m chill,” Paige says, pressing the button for the elevator. “My doctors just want my money or sum’, I’m fine without that dumb shit.”

“Paige, you woke me up five times last night because you had things to tell me and didn’t wanna forget.”

“Valid reason to wake you up.” Paige shoves Azzi inside the elevator, and once she follows, Azzi pushes her right back.

“I’m just saying. You’re easily distracted.”

“Nah.”

“We were making out for like an hour yesterday and you interrupted it to tell me a story.”

“It was a funny story,” Paige explains, taking her hand once again when the elevator doors open and dragging her out.

“Debatable,” Azzi quips, even though it was kinda a good story.

“And it’s not like we didn’t continue kissing after that. I just gave us a lil intermission.”

“You never needed intermissions while you were on your meds.”

They’re in the parking lot now, and Paige unlocks her car, nudging Azzi towards it. “Just get in the car.”

“Bossy,” Azzi mumbles.

Believe it or not, the two of them do have days where they don’t fight, argue, or even sass each other. Those days, however, come far and few between—making fun of each other is their love language and thus little spats happen more often than not. And with today being the first day in awhile that they’ve spent together—not to mention Paige’s apparent decision to be more irritating than usual—it’s no surprise that they spend the car ride fighting over music.

By the time they get to the grocery store, Paige is hyperfocused on making sure Azzi stays on track. When Azzi falls behind to smell a candle, she sighs and tugs her away by the wrist: “Bro, why are we going at grandma pace.”

Ironically, Paige, like the hypocrite she is, also finds an abandoned cart in the refrigerated section. Azzi is grabbing milk when Paige bumps her with the cart, getting her attention. When Azzi looks at her, Paige simply says, “Babe, watch,” and proceeds to hop on the cart and ride it down the aisle with the vigor of a small child.

Once the milk is secured, Azzi decides she deserves some remuneration for the taxing work of going out in public with her girlfriend. Stopping Paige on their way to checkout, Azzi looks up at her with big, brown eyes and says, “Can we stop in the books? Just really quick.”

Paige avoids her gaze. “Nah, I wanna leave.”

“Aw,” Azzi coos, running a hand down Paige’s arm somewhat seductively, “please, Paigey? I need new books.”

Still, Paige refuses to make eye contact as she says, “Aren’t you working on, like, two right now?”

Azzi doesn’t usually get this much pushback from her. She wonders exactly why Paige woke up and decided to annoy her today. Still, she knows Paige can’t say no to her. Placing her hand on Paige’s cheek, she turns her face, forcing her to look at her: the slight pout of her lips, the way her eyes widen enough to be convincing. “C’mon, baby,” she says. “I promise I’ll be fast.”

That’s the breaking point. With a sigh, Paige nods, allowing herself to be excitedly led to the book section.

Azzi decides that she’s no longer annoyed with Paige as she searches through the books, reading over the synopses of every one that looks interesting. She’s desperate for something new, even though Paige is right—she already has plenty.

Paige stays miraculously quiet for a solid five minutes, allowing Azzi to take her time and even browsing through a few books of her own.

Those five minutes, however, are as long as she gets before she happens to pick up a romance novel. Paige glances at her in that moment and she barely has time to hide the cover before Paige is gagging, most likely at the straight couple pictured embracing on the front of it. “That’s so gross.”

Azzi puts the book back on the shelf. “It’s no different than when we kiss.”

“Lowkey super offensive thing to say,” Paige replies. Azzi rolls her eyes, watching as Paige reaches down to grab a large book with colorful dragons on the cover. “This looks way cooler.”

Azzi takes a few steps closer to read the bold lettering on the cover, and then snorts. “Paige, that is a coloring book.”

By the time they get back home, Azzi has officially rescinded her earlier decision—she is definitely still annoyed with Paige.

—————————————

When they return to the dorms, despite Azzi’s oddly low patience for Paige’s annoying nature today, she still wants nothing more than to cozy up in bed with her and read her new book. They make the pancakes first, Paige doing nothing to help her case by arguing about how exactly to make pancakes. Once the two of them—plus half the team, who heard from Jana in the group chat that there would be pancakes—are fed, Azzi is ready to retreat back into Paige’s room.

However, most of the team is still there, and Paige’s oblivious ass is refusing to take Azzi’s hints, too busy chatting with their friends.

She’s tried everything: muttering to Paige that she’s tired (“I see a lil’ napski in our future,” is what Paige responds with), sitting herself on Paige’s lap in an unusual display of affection (“We run out of chairs or sum’?” Paige asks), and even aggressively cleaning everybody’s dishes (“I can do that, mama, you go hang,” Paige says, taking over).

At this point, it’s all she can do not to just yell at her girlfriend. She sits on the couch, listening a little sleepily as KK tells her some crazy story. The team is far too raucous for noon on a Saturday, probably in part to the ridiculous amounts of whipped cream and syrup they all used on their pancakes. In the kitchen, Aubrey and Paige start wrestling, and KK stops yapping to go join them. She jumps on Paige’s back, knocking her over and losing her balance in the process until they’re a heap on the floor. Aubrey steps on their backs, flexing, and the girls cheer rowdily.

Azzi is overstimulated.

Refraining from covering her ears, Azzi stands, giving up on the Paige aspect of her afternoon plans. She’s not sure she even wants Paige—who is hysterically laughing as she gets up from the floor—to be with her anymore. It’d be like forcing a hyper dog to cuddle. She’d probably end up getting bitten.

She’s hoping nobody will notice her slipping away, but Kayla does, tugging on a curl as she heads to the hallway. “Where ya going, babe?”

“Paige’s room,” Azzi says simply.

“She’s gonna notice you’re gone.”

Azzi glances at the scene behind them. Someone’s turned on ‘Kung Fu Fighting’ and Ice has now joined the kitchen boxing match. Paige just barely ducks a fist to the face before barreling into Ice’s stomach, once again ending up on the floor, giggling deliriously. The other girls have mostly lost interest at this point, which is fair—this isn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence.

Azzi turns back to Kayla. “I doubt it.”

“Give her five minutes,” Kayla insists.

“She’s too busy being a little boy.” Azzi rolls her eyes, patting Kayla affectionately as she walks past.

In Paige’s room, she breathes a sigh of relief, the closed door offering some solace from the noise outside. Even better, Paige’s airpods sit on her bedside table; Azzi takes them and connects them to her phone, turning on the noise-cancelling setting. Pleased with the results, she settles into her side of the bed, picking up her book and beginning to read.

She gets maybe two pages in before a tap on the shoulder scares the shit out of her.

Jumping, she whirls around, to find Paige standing beside the bed with a sheepish smile on her face.

Azzi takes out an airpod. “Paige, what?”

Her tone comes out more exasperated than she means to and feels a little guilty about the confused look she gets in return. “I noticed you left. Kay told me you were in here.”

“Yeah, just reading.”

“I see,” Paige replies. She hovers awkwardly, then says, “why didn’t you bring me with you?”

Despite her irritability, affection blossoms in Azzi’s chest at her girlfriend’s clinginess, her need to be around her 24/7 if they’re together. And Azzi reminds herself that this is the first day they’ve really had with each other in a while, and Paige is missing her too. Gently, she says, “I tried, but it seemed like you were having too much fun.”

“I mean, I was having fun,” Paige says. “But I’d rather hang out with you than fuck around with those dumbasses.”

“You’re as much of a dumbass as they are,” Azzi quips. “Actually, they probably learned it from you.”

“Like father, like sons,” Paige nods solemnly. Then, unceremoniously, she throws herself on top of Azzi, nearly knocking the wind out of her and crushing her book between them.

“Ow, Paige!” she says, freeing her hands and book as Paige wriggles like a happy little worm on top of her.

“I missed you,” Paige mumbles into her neck.

“We’ve been together all day.”

“You left me alone out there.”

“I’ve been in here for like five minutes.”

Paige lifts her head to pout at her. “Five minutes too long.”

Unable to help herself, she leans forward, kissing the pout off Paige’s lips. When she pulls back, Paige chases after her, trying to deepen the kiss, but Azzi pushes at her chest. “I still wanna read my book.”

“Okay,” Paige says.

“I wanna snuggle with you,” Azzi continues. “But only if you let me read.“

“Okay,” she repeats. She’s staring at Azzi’s lips, though, which doesn’t spark a lot of confidence that she’s actually listening.

“Which means,” Azzi emphasizes, getting Paige’s eyes to snap back up to her’s, “no talking, no showing me TikToks. And no distracting me with sex.”

Paige pouts again at that, batting her eyelashes stupidly. “What, you mean I can’t eat you out while you’re reading?” Azzi flicks her forehead, and she snickers, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. “Joking. I’ll be good, don’t worry.”

Azzi actually believes her, crazy enough. It’s mostly due to the fact that she and Paige have been together for nearly seven years, so she has her pretty house-trained at this point.

Satisfied, she flashes a smile, picking her book back up. Paige scoots down the length of her body until she’s settled between Azzi’s legs, head resting comfortably on the soft expanse of her tummy. Once they’re situated, Azzi frees up a hand to scratch Paige’s scalp, which’ll keep her happy for a while.

They sit like that for around thirty minutes. The noise of their teammates has died down enough to know that some of them have left, though it’s obvious by the extra chatter that a handful is still hanging around. Paige actually falls asleep within the first ten minutes, which Azzi guesses is probably why she gets so much quiet time.

It still doesn’t feel like enough, though, when a knock sounds at the door. “Y’all decent?”

Azzi glances down at Paige—still fast asleep—and quietly calls out, “We’re good.”

The door swings open and Jana steps inside, followed closely by Ayanna. “We’re going to Chick-Fil-A,” Yanna says, “you wanna come?”

“No, that’s okay.” Azzi pats Paige’s head in a silent explanation. “I’m nap-trapped.”

“Aww, parents.” Jana pulls her phone out, taking a hilariously unflattering close-up of Paige practically drooling on Azzi’s stomach. Azzi giggles as Jana shows her the picture, and she’s distracted enough that there’s nothing she can do when Yanna approaches and jostles Paige awake.

“No, wait—!” Azzi exclaims, reaching out to try and stop her, but it’s too late: the damage is already done. Paige cracks her eyes open with a little groan.

Ayanna scratches the back of her neck sheepishly. Azzi glares at her, then strokes Paige’s hair, trying to coax her back to sleep. “It’s ok, P.”

“Mm,” Paige hums, lifting her head to blink sleepily at them. “Why’d you wake me up?”

“My bad,” Yanna says guiltily. “We just thought you might wanna get Chick-Fil-A with us.”

“Nah, I’m good.” Paige nuzzles back into Azzi’s tummy, surprisingly chill considering she hates being woken from her naps. “Thanks though.”

“Uh-huh,” Jana replies, already heading out the room while she smiles at her phone—Azzi assumes she’s uploading that picture to her close friends.

“Sorry,” Yanna says once again, more to Azzi than anything, before following.

Paige yawns, her warm breath fanning over Azzi’s stomach. As she cuddles back in, Azzi thinks maybe she’ll go back to sleep. She holds onto that hope and resumes her book, threading her fingers through Paige’s hair gently.

This time, it doesn’t work. Which is evident based on the way she lifts herself up on her elbows, giving herself just enough room to press a few kisses around Azzi’s stomach. At first, Azzi tries to ignore it, hoping maybe it’s a casual gesture.

But it’s not long before the kisses slow down as she takes more time on each one, mouth opening so that it leaves the skin of her tummy just a little wet. Of course, it’s out of Azzi’s control the way her thighs tense up, blood rushing straight to her core as her body reacts to her girlfriend’s touch.

Paige curls her fingers around the hem of her top, lips following her hands as they bunch the fabric up to give herself more space, stopping underneath her breasts. She looks up at Azzi, whose gaze is now focused intently on the top of her girlfriend’s head, and flashes a devious little smile before licking a stripe between her ribcage.

Azzi tosses the book to the side, not even bothering to mark her page, freeing her hands so she can use them to pull her girlfriend up by the shoulders, meeting her in the middle for a kiss that’s nowhere near chaste.

Paige is still lying heavily atop her, their chests pressed close together, but it’s still second nature the way Azzi wraps her arms around Paige’s waist in an attempt to get her closer. Paige grins against her mouth at the feeling, their hips coming flush together which makes Azzi gasp despite herself.

“Mm,” Paige hums, beginning a slow, wet trail of kisses down her jawline. “Missed you, baby.”

Azzi can’t help but laugh at that. “We just had sex last night.”

“‘S been way too long since then,” Paige mutters into the crook of her neck. Her teeth graze gently over the sensitive skin and Azzi grips her tighter, thinking she might actually agree with Paige for the first time today.

Paige is obviously building her up, apparently horny after her power nap, and Azzi doesn’t plan on stopping her. This is usually how it goes, anyway, Paige being the initiator nine out of ten times. As Paige pushes her top up above her tits, she knows she has no problem with that.

Her hands are a little cold against Azzi’s warm flesh, nipples pebbled from the temperature change mixed with her arousal. Paige just begins to tweak one of them, making Azzi moan softly—her nipples have always been sensitive—when there’s a sharp knock on the door.

The two of them groan, Paige’s forehead falling against her shoulder.

“Y’all decent?” It is, once again, Jana.

Paige lifts her head, pausing to glance down at her hands where they palm Azzi’s bare tits, and keeping her gaze there as she says, “Not really.”

“Already?” Jana calls, sounding somewhere between amused and disgusted. “You’ve been alone for like five minutes!”

“What do you want, Jana?” Azzi asks before Paige can let out the cocky response she definitely wants to say. Her voice is a little breathy, thanks to Paige absentmindedly rolling a nipple between her thumb and forefinger, and she hopes Jana doesn’t notice.

“We’re not going out anymore. Too much work. I was gonna ask if you wanna watch a movie with us, but…”

“No,” Paige and Azzi yell at the same time.

“Okay, damn,” Jana sighs. “Just being polite. Don’t get pregnant in there.”

Her footsteps trail off, and they make eye contact and laugh, Paige leaning forward to press an amused kiss to her lips. “We have trifling teammates.”

“Don’t talk about our kids like that,” Azzi says.

“They’re some bad ass kids.” Paige gives her another kiss. This time, it’s Azzi who gives chase when she pulls away, but Paige sighs, and to Azzi’s disappointment, pulls her shirt back down.

Azzi pouts, arms traveling up to loop around the back of her neck. “Why’d you stop?”

“They’re still here,” Paige replies. “I’on want them to hear us.”

“They won’t,” Azzi insists. “I’ll be quiet.”

“No, you won’t,” Paige snorts. She kisses Azzi tenderly on the cheek. “Sorry, mama.”

As Paige scoots back down to her original spot, Azzi crosses her arms, feeling a little like a defiant child as she says, “You shouldn’t start something you can’t finish.”

“I know, baby.” Paige nuzzles against Azzi’s navel, doing nothing to help the heat between her legs. “When Jana and Allie are asleep tonight, I’ll get you right, I promise.”

Azzi huffs.

Paige chuckles softly at her, only making her more annoyed. “Thought you wanted to read your book, hm?”

“That was before you touched my tits,” Azzi replies.

Paige lays her head down. “Poor Azzi-Wazzi,” she tuts with faux sympathy.

“You’re a dick,” Azzi mumbles, picking up her book more out of spite than anything, sure she won’t be able to focus on it. She tries valiantly, though.

Her efforts are interrupted at the feeling of fingers dancing across her stomach.

Peering over her book, Azzi sees Paige walking her pointer and middle finger across the length of her tummy, an amused smile on her face as she watches herself. “‘I’m Azzi Fudd’,” she says, voice quiet and high-pitched, “‘and I have a big ol’ head’.”

Taking a deep, shaky breath to calm herself, Azzi returns to her book, pointedly ignoring her.

“‘Babe, do these pants make me look big?’” Paige continues, jumping her hand-Azzi around dramatically as she badly impersonates her.

“No, you look good,” she replies in her normal voice.

“‘You’re supposed to say that,’” Hand-Azzi whines. “‘Tell me for real’.”

“I’m not lying, I love those pants.”

“‘Babe, stop lying to me!’”

Paige sighs dramatically, as if she were actually arguing with somebody else. “I’m not.”

“‘Yes you are. And you’re probably cheating too.’”

“Baby, you know I’d never—“

Slamming her book down, Azzi grabs Paige’s hand, stilling her excessive finger movements. “Paige!”

Paige laughs, probably at herself, sitting up and stretching out. “What?”

“You are stupid,” Azzi replies a little vehemently. With Paige no longer on top of her, she gathers her things and gets out of bed, officially done.

“Where you goin’, mami?” Paige asks, getting up to follow.

Azzi holds a hand up. “I’m going to sit on the couch, so I can read.”

“You’ve been reading for so long,” Paige groans.

Azzi rolls her eyes, turning away and leaving the room.

Paige trails behind her. “They’re watching a movie in there.”

“Okay, then I’ll watch with them.”

“Cool. Wanna sit with me?”

“No,” Azzi says.

Paige grabs her by the waist, holding her against her front, leaning around to kiss her cheek. “C’mon, baby, you know I was just playin’.”

“Okay, and I don’t wanna be played with.” Azzi pulls out of her grasp, shooting a glare over her shoulder.

Paige raises an eyebrow. “Aight, sassy.”

Azzi doesn’t dignify that with a response. She just heads to the living room, flopping down beside Ice to join the movie. She’s relieved (and maybe a little disappointed) when Paige doesn’t follow her.

—————————————

Paige has left her alone for a good amount of time, maybe an hour. Azzi has KK to thank for that: the two of them have been fucking around, playing Fort, and making TiKToks while Azzi enjoys her peace and quiet. She stays in Paige’s apartment, knowing she’s still going to bed with her tonight. Just as long as Paige continues to keep her distance for awhile.

She’s lying on the couch, book held above her, glasses perched over her nose as she reads. The movie ended a while ago, and Morgan and Sarah still linger around, hanging with Jana, and Allie’s in her room. She sort of hopes they don’t hang around too long. As much as she loves her kids, they’re a lot.

Still, it’s manageable. That is, until Paige and KK come barreling into the room, laughing their asses off. Azzi squeezes her eyes shut, hoping they’re going to pass her, but to her dismay, they stop right in front of the couch.

“Babe,” Paige says.

“Yes,” Azzi monotones.

“We need your opinion.” KK cackles as Paige promptly turns around before starting to twerk—or at least, something that looks like it could be twerking—right in front of Azzi’s poor face. “It’s moving, right? There’s motion?”

On any other day, Azzi might sugarcoat it to be nice, but today she just says, “There is absolutely not motion.”

KK clutches her stomach, laughing so hard she almost wheezes.

Paige whips around, hands on her chest. If there were pearls there, she’d be clutching them. “Babe!”

“I told you!” KK yells, pushing Paige out of the way. Azzi groans as she, too, turns around and begins shaking ass. It is admittedly better than Paige’s attempt. “What about me?”

“Mm, it’s a little better.”

“You gotta teach us,” KK says, tugging at Azzi’s hand.

“Ooh, yeah, teach us,” Paige agrees, wiggling her eyebrows. “I’m a visual learner, by the way.”

Azzi scoffs. As if. She pulls herself free from KK’s grasp, then stands. “Absolutely not.”

“Why?” they both frown.

“Because I’m trying to relax and y’all are being weird,” she quips.

“Why don’t you come hang with us?” Paige offers, a little more gently, obviously realizing Azzi is actually a little annoyed.

“No, thanks,” Azzi says. “I’m already overstimulated enough just from listening to you guys.”

Paige furrows her eyebrows. “Where you going, then?”

Azzi sighs, glancing at the door, then to her girlfriend, then back again. “I think I’m gonna head to my room, Paige.”

KK gasps. “Oh, mom and dad fighting?”

“We are not,” Paige insists. Then she turns to Azzi with an exaggerated sad face. “Are we?”

“No,” Azzi says, which is true. They’re not fighting; she just needs a break. “I’ll be back later, okay?”

“Why’re you leaving?” Paige asks, stepping toward her.

“I just…I’m a little grumpy today. Not as patient as usual. I need a few minutes.”

Paige frowns, but KK, never one to read a social situation, laughs. “She really said she has a low Paige threshold,” she giggles, pushing Paige’s shoulder.

“We barely saw each other this week,” Paige says, ignoring KK as she reaches out to hold Azzi’s hands. “We’ve already been apart today.”

“I know, honey,” Azzi says. She decides against pointing out that all in all, they’ve only been apart for around an hour total this entire day. “I promise I’ll be back.”

“Like, soon, right?” Paige says, giving her big puppy eyes that she’s never been able to resist.

“Yes, soon,” she promises. She leans forward for a kiss, KK averting her gaze with an eye roll. “Play Fort with KK or something. You’ll be okay.”

“I won’t,” Paige insists, sounding genuinely worried.

“You will. We have tomorrow, too, remember?” With one last kiss, Azzi releases her hands, grabbing her things to go downstairs. She just barely catches KK making fun of Paige for being a simp before she gets out the door.

————————————

“Open the doooor.”

“Az, c’mon, bro, lemme in!”

“Bitch, you’ve had plenty alone time, pleaseeee.”

Azzi stands by the door, laughing silently at her girlfriend’s pleading—which has been going on, unanswered on her part, for about five minutes now—until her face drops at the last sentence. “What did you just call me?”

There’s a distinctly panicked silence before Paige starts backtracking. “I mean, my beautiful wife who I love and respect. For real, let me in. We can be alone together!”

“Very poetic,” Azzi remarks.

Paige groans, and there’s a thunk that sounds a lot like a forehead hitting a door. “Dawg.”

Once again, Azzi goes quiet, and she can tell the exact moment Paige realizes this because there’s another thunk.

“Azzi, please, babe.”

Still, she doesn’t respond, and that’s when the singing starts.

“Pleaseeee, open the dooorrr,” she sings quite horribly. Azzi quiets her giggle behind a hand.

“Pleaseeee,” she continues, completely off-key. Sza level, my ass.

“No, Paige.”

“Baby, please! It’s almost dinner time.”

“For who? It’s barely four.”

There’s another beat of silence. Then, “Azzi, I’m gonna cry. Please.”

Obviously, Paige is bullshitting her. She’s not going to cry. But still, Azzi’s never been able to be stern with Paige. (And Paige calling her her wife earlier certainly helped matters.)

As soon as she cracks the door open, Paige is trying to barge through, but Azzi stops her with a foot in the door. “Hold on.”

Paige, obediently, stops.

“I’m still a little grumpy,” Azzi admits.

Paige nods. “Okay.”

“So…be gentle, okay? I don’t like being mad at you.”

“I don’t like you being at me,” Paige agrees.

“We’re in agreement, then.”

“A hundred percent.” Paige pushes at the door. “Now, can I come in, please?”

Azzi opens the door all the way, allowing herself to be tackled onto the bed in a very non-gentle way, but still, she laughs. Even when she needs space from Paige, even when she chooses it—she still just ends up missing her the whole time.

“Hey,” Paige says once she’s effectively pinned her to the bed. “Noticed your dorm’s empty.”

Azzi raises an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”

“I can finish what I started earlier,” Paige offers, suggestive smile on her face before she says, “unless you don’t want that, obviously.”

Azzi’s pulling her down before she can finish her sentence.

(“We’re getting a sweet treat later,” she says a little while later.

“Okay, princess,” Paige says, situating herself between her legs. “Whatever you want.” And then, she drops a kiss on the inside of her thigh before spreading her open, dipping her head down, and going beautifully quiet for the first time all day. They stay in bed for quite some time.)

When Azzi starts her period the next day, she proudly says to herself, “I knew I wasn’t going crazy.”

[badhee]

𝑺𝑨𝑳𝑻𝒀 & 𝑺𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑻 ! ⋅˚₊ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

pairing: established relationship, nerdy bf!dom!heeseung x gf!reader, hee is around 21/22 in this genre/tags: smut, degradation, humiliation ?, praise kink, dacryphilia, oral (m receiving), facefucking, food play, cum play, cum eating, choking, pet names (princess, pup, darling), use of word daddy (once) words: 981

[ note. ] — happy valentine’s day ig?? i’m single af so i don’t have one but heeseung is mine in my head so that’s all that matters <3

Oh you sad, sad little thing… always finding yourself in these compromising situations. The whole morning went as normal with Heeseung, he was super nice to you and smothered you with lots of loving kisses! But once he arrived back home from classes his entire mood shifted completely.

“Get on your knees, wanna use that pretty little mouth of yours right now.” Heeseung was hovering over you as you sat down.

You were just minding your business on the couch eating a bowl of strawberries when he said that to you.

“W-what?” Your eyes bug out of your head like a deer in headlights.

“Did I stutter? On your knees, now.” His tone becomes more stern.

You squirm to get up, not wanting to waste another minute incase he gets angrier. Your body feels shaky from his intimidating persona, he usually comes off as sweet and caring but when he’s mad he becomes almost sadistic.

It didn’t take long for him to end up down your throat. All 7 inches of him being taken by you. You kept choking and gagging but the more you did it the more Heeseung would just keep pushing your head back down. His fingers latching onto your hair and thrusting his hips harder to get more of his cock deeper in your throat.

“C’mon, you can take it like the little pathetic slut you are. You’re my precious little pup right?”

His words made you so fucking wet for him.

You wanted to please him in the best way you could. Bobbing your head back and forth, his spit combined with your saliva all over your face. Heeseung likes it messy though, he also loves shooting his load out on your face after a long day. You acted like nothing but a toy for him to use, just a fuckdoll he can manipulate and dump all his cum into when he’s frustrated.

His glasses were sliding down to his nose as he keeps lowering his head to get a finer view of you. Your fucked out face was so angelic to him, so divine… you looked the most beautiful when you had Heeseung’s cock buried in your mouth.

“There atta-girl… such a good little slut for me aren’t you?” The way he talks to you will be your true weakness.

You had to prove your love to him. Your devotion. You wanted his cum as a reward so you had to work hard for it and push through the pain. You try humming to loosen up your vocal cords and take him better, the vibrations sent chills up his spine and he almost lost his balance for a second. Feeling the way he throbbed and twitched on your tongue made you moan against his shaft.

“Fuck yeah… good girl my good little fucking princess…”

You kept letting him throatfuck you and the tears came rolling down now. He loved seeing you become a crying fucked out mess for him, it filled his heart with the utmost joy.

“Aww.. my darling’s getting teary eyed, can’t take all of it huh??”

Your jaw hurts so bad but you can’t stop now, you have only one goal to achieve and that was to make your boyfriend cum all over your pretty face. His cock slammed into your uvula and you made a loud gagging noise, he would just grin and keep pushing hisself in you relentlessly. He laughed at your misery, the way your knees buckled and quivered while being under him.

He wouldn’t be laughing for too much longer though, one more thrust to the back of your throat would leave him nearly unable to talk. His body felt paralyzed. Eyes were violently rolling to the back of his head as he feels his release approaching. He jerks his hips back and quickly pulls out of your mouth. He doesn’t bring his cock to your face though, instead his attention is drawn to the bowl of strawberries you were eating from earlier.

He stands in front of it on the couch and viciously strokes his cock, large white ropes of cum come trickling down onto the fresh strawberries. Once he finishes he looks back at you now with an evil grin.

“Get on all fours for me doll.” He instructs you.

You do as you’re told, getting on your hands and knees, crawling your way towards him. He takes ones of the strawberries— that are now all coated with his hot delicious cum and brings it to your lips.

“Open wide.”

You open your mouth and he plops the strawberry in, you immediately close your mouth to start chewing. The strawberry was so sweet and juicy while Heeseung’s cum was warm and salty, this might be the perfect combination you’ve ever tried.

“Taste’s good right princess?”

You nod your head and finally speak “Yes, so yummy daddy, want to eat more!”

“Then go ahead, eat more.”

You dip your face in the bowl of strawberries and eat another one. You can’t get over how good his cum tastes with the savory fruit. He pets the top of your head like you were a kitten, just grinning at the sight of you eagerly eating his cum.

“Such a naughty little girl… you really are a huge slut.” He degrades you more, wrapping his hand around your neck as he lifts you from being on all fours.

You’re back on your knees again facing him while he kept a tight grip on you. The way this man had you so down bad for him, you were willing to let him do absolutely anything to satisfy his needs. Your body couldn’t stop trembling under his touch, he had you perfectly the way he wanted.

“Still look so pretty, even after sucking off my cock..” his hold on you was only getting tighter at this point.

“So obedient for me, always.”

[ghost-proofbaby]

Okay hear me out, Eddie nervous on your first valentines day together wanting to make it special and only knowing how to valentines from what he's seen at school and he panics and is very eddie about the whole thing 👀

please my heart almost couldn't take this. i swore nothing over 1k but nervous and panicking eddie being all cute?? yeah i couldn't help myself. this isn't edited, sorry in advance. no warnings, just fluff.

wc: 2.2k

He feels stupid.

It's the only thought ringing through his head as he sits at the Munson's dining table, scraps of construction paper strewn over the worn wood, glue stick drying out to the side and scissors digging into his knuckles. 

It had started as a prophetic vision after a few hits from his blunt; it was quickly souring into the most ridiculous thing he’s ever done. 

The high had worn off, Eddie had glued his fingers together thrice now (seriously, how was this glue stick approved for children?), and the end product…. Well, he hated it. 

The card was tacky. The flowers were uneven. He didn’t even have the willpower nor time to make a full bouquet as he had originally wanted to while under the influence. Pink glitter was now overtaking the trailer, and he’s never seen his uncle look so damn entertained. 

“Boy, what on God’s green Earth are you going?” 

Normally, the twang of Wayne’s accent would be comforting. But right now, all Eddie could hear was held back laughter choking up his old man’s throat, and a glint in his eye that felt a lot like a taunt, and he felt the farthest from comforted in a very long time. 

“Mind your business, old man,” Eddie grumbles, tongue sticking out as he tries to reglue a corner of a paper heart he had cut out, needing it to stick down properly. He probably should have purchased glue, in hindsight. 

“Where did you get all this paper?”

“I said mind your business.”

“Is that pink glitter?” 

“Don’t you have work?” Eddie huffs, grabbing at the Valentine card he was attempting to salvage, cheeks blushing more vibrant than any of the arts and crafts supplies spread about. 

He didn’t want to admit how embarrassed he was. He didn’t want to give anyone else the satisfaction. It was his own damn fault, really – he had offered for your nightly diner dates to be on him one too many times this last month, and entirely forgotten to put away any extra cash to get you a proper Valentine. And this was his last resort. 

He’d tried to convince the local florist to discount the flowers missing one too many petals for him, he’d tried to scope out the cheapest cards available at Melvald’s. He’d begged and bartered with every option in town to simply get you something for the day of love, and in the end, he’d simply fallen short.

So now, all he had was a palm full of gritty glitter and homemade items that looked worse for wear. 

One of the kinder ladies that lived two trailers down had been happy to offer Eddie some of her scrapbooking papers, throwing in the glitter for good measure, and he still had an old glue stick from when he’d built one of his custom tabletop maps for a D&D campaign. With five hours and a dream, he was now the not-so-proud creator of three handmade paper roses, and a card hardly large enough to fit in his palm. 

When he took a step back to look at it all, Wayne was right to be snickering on the couch over it all. 

“They’re going to hate it,” Eddie laments, glaring down at his creations, “They’re going to hate it, and I’m going to get dumped on our first Valentine’s day together.”

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself, son,” Wayne tries to genuinely comfort Eddie now, leaning forward to get a better look at his last five hours of work, “I’m sure they’re gon’ be happy that you just thought of the-”

“My life is over,” Eddie interrupts, walking over to the couch to collapse dramatically.

Wayne stops him, however, throwing up a hand, “Nope. You’re not gettin’ that damn pink glitter all over my couch. Go mope in your room.”

After a brief stare-off, a whole ten seconds wasted when Eddie could be wallowing in his self-pity, Eddie does exactly that.

He hopes Wayne is right, for all their sakes. There’ll be bigger things to worry about than just glitter if you really do hate Eddie’s attempt at a sincere Valentine. 

—

It takes nearly a full minute of knocking on the Munson’s trailer’s front door before Eddie opens it for you – that’s your first sign that something is terribly wrong. 

Your next sign is when Eddie hardly adds any enthusiasm into your welcome kiss, so reserved, as though he might be in a constant state of cringing; a constant state of preparing for the worst. 

“Is something the matter?” you ask innocently enough, toeing off your shoes and shifting your bag in hand. You’d picked up a few movies for the night, a variety of cheesy rom-coms Eddie expressed a slightest bit of interest in along with a few more up his alley. A horror film that neither of you had seen that looked to have a budget of $10 and a dream, and Labyrinth. 

The latter, you’d both already seen. Neither of you would pass up seeing David Bowie in his full glory, though. 

“It’s fine,” Eddie huffs out, still refusing to meet your gaze, “Want me to put on some popcorn?” 

You can’t help but light up as you follow him in his rush to the kitchen, “God – yes, please. I also got some sour patch kids, your favorite, and-”

You cut off when you catch sight of the dining room table. 

Eddie doesn’t glance back as he reaches up to the cabinet holding the stash of popcorn he keeps around for your movie nights, “And?” 

“Eddie…” you slowly draw out in a questioning tone, looking at the mess before you, “What, uh, happened here?” 

It’s an explosion of quintessential Valentine’s day. Pink paper hearts, strips of deep reds discarded messily. A shimmering glitter covers the table, and you can’t recall any DIY projects of Eddie’s for Hellfire that might involve that. 

“What?” He’s quick to turn around at that, and you watch as all the blood drains from his face, “Oh, fuck, I-” he launches himself back around the kitchen counter frantically, grabbing at any piece of paper he can find, “Shit, I meant to clean this up earlier, I’m sorr-”

“What were you making?” 

Eddie pauses all movement, glancing up at you in fear. 

You’re not even sure what he’s afraid of. All you can do is furrow your brows, twist your lips, scrunch your nose. 

Was it meant to be a surprise of some sort?

He swallows hard, standing up straight as he shifts uncomfortably on his feet, “I….”

When no words follow, you raise a brow, trying to silently encourage him to continue on. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

And oh, he’s such a bad liar. A pretty one, but a terrible one. 

There’s no sign of the stellar poker face you’ve seen him wear during Hellfire sessions, no impeccable cockiness to cover up the obvious. His wringing hands draw your attention to his knuckles, all the drying glue and glitter peeling off bit by bit.  

“You sure about that?” you press, grin slow spreading as you take a step closer to him, eyeing the mess he tries to shift in front of to block from your sights.

“Positive.”

“Has anyone told you you’re an awful liar, Munson?”

“I’m not ly-” 

You scooch around him effortless, dropping your bag in the process and making him yelp out as he tries to catch you. His arms are quick to wrap around your waist as you try to get a clearer view of what he had been so desperate to conceal, but even his best efforts can’t stop you. 

It’s all a bit childish from the outside. Reckless giggles, flailing limbs – even Eddie is smiling in his panic. 

“Let go of me!” 

“Then leave it alone!”

“I wanna see what you made!” 

Each screech between the two of you is overcome with laughter as he pulls you flush to his chest, caging you in and yet failing to cover your eyes. 

You spot what he was trying to hide, and all attempts to escape his hold cease. 

“Are those…” you start, a little breathless as you stare in awe. You swear, you could burn up from the warmth blooming in your chest. When his arms go the slightest bit limp, you have your answer before finishing the question, “Are those for me?” 

A small jar, one that had once held some of Eddie’s pick collection, now holds three handmade paper roses. Mingling petals of two different shades of red, with tightly rolled pieces of green paper servings at their stems. Two even have leaves, cut jagged and true to nature. 

Leaning against the small paper flower display is a card.

It’s a messier ordeal than the flowers, but you’re still prying Eddie’s forearms from your stomach in a rush to grab it. 

“Hold on,” he rushes out, no longer laughing as you get a hold of the card, “Wait, listen, I can explain. I just- I spent most of my money when we went to Benny’s for shakes last week, and I forgot I wouldn’t get any more cash before today, and I just-” he’s stumbling over his words, a mess of flying hands and wide eyes as you turn to face him, “I… I’m sorry, okay? I swear, they’re just placeholders until I get you a real gift for Valentine’s Day.” 

You’re hardly listening to him as you look down at the small paper, folded over fairly impressively to mimic one of the fancy cards from Melvard’s. It’s thinner, sure, but you’re mesmerized as you trace over the heart cut out of the center. It’s filled with pink glitter that clings to your fingertip as it passes, and you can’t help but let out a small laugh. 

And then you open the card. 

The outside was plain white save for the heart, but the inside is gorgeous. Hand drawn vines and flowers fill the empty space inside. Roses, mums, lillies – every flower you can think of is amongst the bunch. All etched out in ink, an ink you recognize from Eddie’s favorite pen, and every gentle line sketched out to make the larger picture sends your heart racing a few beats faster.

Underneath the glitter heart is a large bee, made with a speech bubble. 

“Placeholder?” you laugh breathlessly, biting your lip to stop from smiling like a fool. “You call all this a placeholder?” 

Bee mine? 

It’s so cheesy, it aches. 

Written in makeshift cursive, not quite as neat as it could have been, but clearly a valiant effort from the shy man standing before you. You can’t fathom how he’s embarrassed about this when you look up at him with fluttering lashes and a chest full of fizzling love. 

“I thought you were going to hate them,” he hoarsely whispers as he reaches a hand to the nape of his neck. 

“Hate them?” you repeat in disbelief, turning your attention back to the handmade flowers. “In what fuckin’ world would I hate these?”

You lift one of the roses from the mini jar, and sniff it on instinct. It should only smell like paper and glue, but it doesn’t – Eddie’s obviously spritzed his cologne onto the flowers.

The miniscule detail has your heart bursting. 

He’s still petrified as he stares at you, shrugging hopelessly, “I just know it’s our first Valentine’s together, and people usually go all out-”

“This is going all out, Eddie.”

You can’t imagine being capable of any more love for the boy in front of you. Genuinely – you don’t believe your bones could handle the weight of it, that your heart could take it. You’re filled to the brim with it, buzzing like summertime cicadas beneath your skin from all the vibrant emotions you have for him. For every blemish across his skin and every kink in his curls, for those big brown eyes simply staring at you now. Those knuckles covered in glue and glitter. Those lips that you can’t handle another second not kissing. 

And so you don’t. Not another second is wasted as you fling yourself forward, nearly dropping the paper flower in hand as you grab each side of his face, bringing him to you in a hard kiss. 

You hope he feels all that love. You hope the weight of it presses down on his shoulders, even if just a little, so he gets it. 

“I fucking love it, Eds,” you laugh into the kiss, pressing your forehead, “I- Honestly? I think this is the nicest Valentine I’ve ever gotten.” 

“Really?” his eyes pop open, pulling back from you slightly until you simply won’t allow it. You want him close – you need him pressed against you. “Well, shit. I thought you were going to hate them and break up with me.” 

“Me, breaking up with you? After this?” you parrot back in disbelief, shaking your head, tip of your nose rubbing against his through the action, “God, you’re an idiot, Eddie Munson. My idiot, but still.” 

He finally cracks a smile, and you lose yourself in the dimples that appear as he asks, “Does this mean you’ll be my Valentine?”

“Absolutely.”

[sadagios]

Icarus, and the Sunflower

PART TWO: UNFIXABLE ERROR

PROLOGUE: PART ONE

3.4k words below the cut

SOME BEGINNING NOTES: - This AU is only character shipping, and references a lot outside the life series events (evo, hermitcraft, empires, etc). This is not meant to ship the CC’s themselves and if anything alludes to it, it is purely unintentional. - This is not canon-compliant ermmmm i do what i want and i will put every idea i have into this - No more bullet points this time... taking off the baby wheels - This is to add more to the first part! Please read that one before this if you haven't - Tags for this part? Game dev AU, Past BigB/Grian, a lot of BigGri flirting, some characters are real and some are fictional, this is only the prologue (part 2!), Grian is still down bad for Scar, absolutely not beta'd i only have one impulsive braincell, contains some fake chats

I. HALLOWEEN

The game awards have been announced, and it was the talk of the company. Evolutionists’ Portal has been online for 4 months now, and it built itself a dedicated fan base with a peak of about 80k players a month. Updates were still on the way, scheduled for Halloween and Christmas Day.

The team working on Evolutionists’ Portal hoped for a nomination, and maybe even an award. Gria hoped for this, as well, but he was too tired to even think with everything on his plate. Their art director quit suddenly, so he was carrying out two big roles, but even when the past art director was there, he was basically doing most of his work.

The team took notice of his exhaustion and invited him to the company Halloween party. Gria didn’t want to, but Martyn had a brilliant idea for making a bet: Gria believed they would get one nomination, and Martyn believed it would be two. If Gria wins, Martyn will get him breakfast every day until Christmas. If Martyn wins, Gria has to wear an outfit to the party of his choosing. Gria thought it was a harmless bet, and he’d actually benefit from it, so he agreed.

Jimmy is his closest friend in the company, but Jimmy was also busy with his work in Empires. There are talks of a big collaboration and he knows he can’t get ahold of Jimmy until it is settled. One morning, a cup of coffee appeared on his desk with a note attached to it that said,

“You might need a little boost in your morning.”

Gria had no idea who it could be from until he noticed a wrapped piece of warm, chocolate cookie beside the cup. He looked up from his desk and met eyes with Big B, who smiled and gave him a little wave before resuming his work.

His crush on Big B was no secret. The man is funny and handsome, and he and Gria started in the company together. Martyn was the first one to catch it, the way he gets giggly and embarrassed around Big B, and he’s been on Gria’s case since. Pearl found out about it through Martyn’s teasing, but she had the grace not to poke fun at Gria (only sometimes.) Jimmy still hasn’t caught on, and Martyn bursts out laughing every time Jimmy unintentionally third wheels or cockblocks Gria. Gria has an inkling that Big B might’ve noticed it, but he acts the same way around him, which Gria is thankful for.

The nominations were out the morning of the party, and they were nominated for “Best Multiplayer” and “Best Audio Design.” As soon as the news broke out, Martyn walked in stride to the art department and pulled Gria to the parking lot where Martyn’s car was parked. He opened the trunk, pulled something out, and gave it to Gria with a devilish grin.

Martyn: I’m so excited to meet such a popular singer tonight.

Gria peeked inside the dress cover, he wanted to die.

One night, the team went out drinking. Gria had a few more drinks than he should’ve. He doesn’t remember what happened, but Pearl recorded the whole thing; basically, he got so drunk that he started singing nothing but Ariana Grande songs. To put the final nail in the coffin, he might’ve sat on Big B’s lap as he sang one song.

Gria wore the outfit after being manhandled by everyone into wearing it. Big B wasn’t going to the party as he’d said days before, and while Gria was relieved not to embarrass himself, he also wished for Big B to be there.

Gria wore a ridiculously pink two-piece top and skirt, with a white furry shoal attached to gloves. Pearl also lent him her white boots, which surprisingly fit him well (and gave him a few inches.) The room cheered when he walked in, and he was too embarrassed to walk that Jimmy had to drag him around the room.

Pearl wore a cute green dress, which looked a lot like a character from Empires. Jimmy wore a Captain America costume, but instead of a star had a huge letter S at the middle of his chest. Martyn wore a pirate costume. 

Martyn: What a shame Big B isn’t here to see this.

Martyn teased, and Gria wanted to strangle him right there. Then, without warning, a finger poked his cheek. Gria turned and there Big B was, holding a bloody axe in a bloody costume. Gria remembered the game Big B told him about, a zombie game called “The Creaking Dead.” It was one of the things that led them to become friends, their love for zombie games.

The night went by, celebrating both Halloween and their nominations. Empires also had their own share of nominations, and Jimmy was so giddy that night.

Pearl pulled them four to the photo booth before they could get more wasted. Jimmy grabbed a weird-looking fish beanie and Martyn put on a Mickey Mouse headband. Pearl put on a sunflower crown that fit the gold accents in her dress. They made sure to put Gria and Big B at the center of the photo, and Gria tried not to explode with how close they were. Big B suggested they take a Polaroid photo after for keepsake, and before Gria could head out of the room and go home, Big B gave him a Polaroid photo with a message written in Sharpie.

"Glad I came by today, G. Happy Halloween. ♡"

II. VALENTINE’S DAY

Gria and Big B have been talking and texting each other non-stop for months now. People assume they’re dating, but when Jimmy asked, he clarified that they had no label. It’s true; they haven’t done much. They hung around a lot, and they might’ve fooled around during cold December nights, but it was an unspoken, casual thing. At least, that’s what it was for Gria.

On Valentine’s day, Big B invited him for dinner, and everyone teased them about being lovebirds. That night, Big B finally asked Gria to be his boyfriend.

Gria was happy. Overjoyed. Someone as kind and thoughtful as Big B, who treats him so well, wanted them to be exclusive. He wanted Gria. But the smile on Gria’s face slowly faded as his happiness turned into dread. Big B is too nice for him. Too perfect for him. Too much for someone like him.

Gria turned him down without explaining further. He saw the hurt in Big B’s eyes, but the man still treated him the same: with adoration and care.

Big B drove him home, and that was the last time they talked outside of work.

III. MARCH

Gria finally took some time off. Aside from the upcoming April Fools update, there wasn’t much to be done. The tension between him and Big B has been too much to bear, and he can’t shake the guilt he feels each time Big B leaves a warm cup of coffee with a cute note on his desk.

He lurks on the internet, bored out of his mind. He met this person, PotatoNutshell, and became friends over Hermitopia 6.

IV. APRIL FOOLS

< Let's play like cats, let's count to three. >

The gang liked the Alpha version of “The Life Game.” The map is good (which makes Gria proud as he designed it,) and the mechanics are simple enough to get used to.

There are several problems, though. The motion blur is making everyone sick, and the one who had it the roughest was Joel. The UI is also unintuitive, as you have to look at your wrist to see the messages and your health status, which you can easily lose track of. Then, the computer AI characters are indistinguishable from each other. It was supposed to be a battle royal game, but with only the players having unique skins, it feels a bit more like player versus enemy than a competition.

It was understandable, though, that it didn't have much character customization. The remaining two working on the game are a writer and a programmer, and they have no 3D modeling experience at all. Gria figured he could help out and tinker with it when he had time, especially with how the gang loved the game despite all its flaws.

V. SUMMER, a year later

Gria’s old friends finally messaged him that they added more things to the game, and it might be enough for a beta test. The only thing they haven’t figured out is the character models. Gria confirmed if they were planning to release this game, and the two said “no, not yet. Not anytime soon.” That gave Gria all the liberty to simply tinker with the game just for their own enjoyment.

He asked the team if they had any characters they’d like to mod into the game, preferably with 3D models so they wouldn’t have to worry about rigging and animation too much. Skizzleman suggested Hermitopia characters, which Gria wouldn’t contest because this gives him a great excuse to add Scar into the game.

They needed one more character, and Gria remembered the Empires plush on Jimmy’s desk. The team gave him a free plushie of the “Starboy, The Rivendell King” because all plushies of the “Codfather” were sold out, the one Jimmy usually played as. Still, Jimmy keeps the Starboy plushie on his desk and sometimes carries it with him to the breakroom when he takes a short nap. Gria found the image of Jimmy carrying this plush to be adorable, although he will never say it aloud, so he decided to add Starboy as their final character. He also had Gemini and Shadow Lady (as per Joel’s request) 3D models ready, but he’ll probably add them next time. Pearl also isn’t joining their session for now, so it would be good to save her favorite character for another time.

On one Friday night in April, they all logged on and waited to connect to The Life Game’s private server. Gria was excited to play until he received a message from one of his old friends.

A slight chill crawls up Grian’s arm. He gripped his VR headset, a bit hesitant after his conversation with his old friends. After a moment, he shook off his nerves and wore his headset. He looked at the server status reading “5/6 Players” and hovered his controller over the button that would let him play with his friends. Grian ignored the warning bells and hit “Join World.”

VI. HELLO, WORLD

Gria spawned into the world, a bit dizzy from the sunlight blasting into his eyes. He got off on the ground and surveyed his surroundings, and it seemed like the map was different from the last time. In front of him looked like a ruined portal, which he doesn’t remember adding to the map years ago. Could this be something his old friends added to the map for the Evolutionists’ Portal developers to see? Gria smiled at the sentiment. He looted the chest near it, and it felt a bit like cheating. He joined the game late, but he already had golden gear in his first minutes of playing.

He did some resource gathering, something which they learned was crucial from their alpha test. He travelled and spotted a village, and saw Martyn’s character completely raiding it. Out of all of them, Martyn might have been the one who became so immersed in the gameplay. Even before playing, he was discussing tactics and plans in their call. If it ever came down to it, he knows Martyn would be a formidable opponent with how into it he is. 

Gria traversed the map more until he hit the border. There’s no way to get through it, even if you force it. It also seemed like the friendly creatures weren't able to get past it. It’s a bit scary to think about how they’re stuck in this little box until only one of them remains. It’s a good thing all of this is just a game.

Being the creator of the maps for this game, Gria remembers where most of the biomes are on the map. He goes back to the village and spots Big B.

Excited and without thinking, he jumped in front of Big B and surprised him, which made Big B’s character jump back. But, when Big B met his eyes, he immediately laughed and smiled. 

Before Big B could strike up a conversation, Joel’s voice could be heard from a distance, he looked just like himself in real life, but he wore a costume that reminded Gria of Shrek. He shot Big B a quick look and saw he was wearing something similar to his costume during one of their old Halloween parties. Martyn’s character seemed different, too.

Gria noticed the little shop icon on his screen. When he clicked on it, it opened a shop of a multitude of items that can be bought with experience points. He checked out the costume section and saw that costume accessories were fairly cheap. He bought himself a red sweater, and now his character feels more like him.

He noticed someone trailing behind Joel, a blazing head of fire and red eyes. It took him a while to realize that this was Tango Tek from Hermitopia. When he spoke, both Gria and Joel cranked their neck at him, surprised he could speak. Hermitopia had no voice lines. Despite this fact, Joel excitedly conversed with Tango, prompting him to speak more. Gria excused himself, confused at how this was possible.

He went off to gather more resources before he headed to the village. He saw Big B yet again, and his cheeks flushed at how many times he had seen him by himself. Gria’s a bit awkward around him, but Big B greets him with a smile each time. 

Big B: Are you sneaking up on me, G? Gria, giggling: Hello there, B. Whatcha up to? Big B: Trying to survive the first night, and maybe even you? Gria: Well, I don’t think a danger. Not to you. Big B: A danger to my heart, maybe?

Gria bit his lip and walked away. Big B laughed behind him, and he couldn’t fight back his smile. He looked at the ground and saw Martyn’s faint green name tag. He grinned and turned to Big B, “Wanna scare Martyn?”

They made their way down Martyn’s mining hole, carefully, and they tried not to giggle like a bunch of kids sneaking out in the middle of the night. Gria heard Martyn, talking to himself, and he approached him behind before shouting, “Hey Martyn!”

The three hang around together in the mining hole, chatting and bickering while hoping to find diamonds. Martyn succeeds and even gives them two diamonds each for a sword. The two were dumbfounded at this generosity, and Gria gave Martyn his golden apple in return.

Martyn: I just gave you guys diamonds because we’re buddies, c’mon. Gria: You know what, you can have my most prized golden apple. Martyn: Ooh, what’s this do? Gria: It gives you extra hearts when you eat it. Martyn: You’re giving me hearts? Way to make Big B a third wheel. Big B: Oh my god.

Gria exploded into laughter at this, and Big B shook his head but smiled at the situation.

After the sun had risen, he parted ways with the two and spent his time around the village and looking for a place to stay. He came across another nametag below the ground, and he thought it might’ve been Jimmy. He went down and surprised the man, only to find that it wasn’t Jimmy. 

When he heard Tango speak a while ago, he couldn’t figure out how it was possible. However, he did know of a game around an AI girlfriend who wouldn’t let you leave the house unless you said the right words. To think █████ could add such a feature, for AI to understand and speak back to you, all in a year is quite impressive and he would like to ask him more as soon as they finish playing. He didn’t listen carefully when Tango spoke earlier, and it might’ve been more robotic than he remembered. But now, as Ren screamed in surprise and spoke how Gria spooked the hell out of him, it sounded too much like a real person’s voice.

After mining a bit, Gria went out to the world and built a base at a lovely ravine area. Unfortunately, his resources weren’t enough to make it look pretty, and he suddenly missed the creative freedom he had while playing Hermitopia.

After being alone for so long. He made his way back to the village. Much to his surprise, so many people were there. At the side of the village, a group of characters in iron gear approached him. They excitedly called out his nametag, Grian, to greet him. Just like Ren and Tango’s voices, they all sounded so real. Too real. 

Martyn, Big B, Jimmy, Skizz, and Joel were nowhere to be seen. He was surrounded by characters from a game he spent countless hours playing. They talk and bicker like they are real people, and they sound like real people would. Gria would never be able to think of better voices for them. 

Among the four of them, one stood out the most. He had disheveled hair and a huge scar on his face that went down his neck. Despite having a cape and scarf covering most of his torso, Gria can’t pry his eyes off his huge, exposed right tit.

Completely distracted, something suddenly fell into his hands. It took him a while to process that this man held his hands and gave him flint and steel. Gria looked up, meeting the man’s eyes, and he had this devilish grin that made Gria’s knees weak. He turned his head higher and looked at the man’s nametag, “Scar Goodtimes”

Scar put his arm around Gria and made him face the village, and one of the houses were burning.

Scar: It was Grian! It was him who did it! 

Gria couldn’t move. He couldn’t process what was happening, and he couldn’t care less about how Tango and Etho were trying their best to put out the fire. The man beside him, probably more than 6 feet tall, is Scar Goodtimes. He’s way different from what he remembered, he had shorter hair and markings instead of actual scars, but when he spoke, Gria might’ve melted into the ground if the man didn’t have his arm around him.

Scar: Geez, Grian, what a rapscallion burning down villages.

Scar grinned at him and gave him a wink. It was as if Gria’s hardware crashed. Cleo, BDubs, and Impulse were all talking to him, even playing their jukebox for him, but his mind was filled with one thing and one thing only.

“His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so—”

Something nudged Gria, and Scar was so close to his face that Gria thought he could be hallucinating. Scar whispered into his ear, asking for the flint and steel back, and he complied without a second thought. He gave him a grin before he ran off to the village. Etho and Tango followed suit in panic.

Gria finally breathed. He doesn’t know how this could be possible. He had organized an unofficial voice cast for Hermitopia before, but the chosen voice actor was so off the mark, and everyone else liked it but Gria. But now, Scar’s whisper loops in his head, and he would go to war just to argue that no actor can replicate the sound his ears had been blessed with.

While talking to Etho and Impulse, he saw the historical tree burn. Scar walked in stride and stood beside Gria, waiting for Etho to take notice. Gria and Scar share a mischievous smile as Etho runs to the burning tree. Scar watched the tree burn down, and Gria watched the fire illuminate his face.

Scar: Grian, want to take over the desert with me? Gria: Me? Scar: Yeah, you. Let’s make all the sand ours.

This marks the End of Prologue

Next > ACT ONE: STUCK IN THE DESERT

ENDING NOTES: Took a while to finish this one! supposedly there's more, but it was getting too long so I had to cut it here. The next update will be a bigger one, so it might take months before that is posted. I also plan to do more character design before moving forward with the actual life series events. If you've read this far, thank you for reading!

[druid-in-hiding]

I lived through that crap and let me tell you...

There was plenty of evidence of the Saudis being involved with Shenanigans. Never brought up at the White House. Never even hinted at as a target. Was all Iraq.

The open, most logical thread was that the White House wanted a war, thinking it would jumpstart American Hegemony by allowing the U.S. to take over the Middle East. Put it in the same category as Muskrat's DOGE or the idea that a Christo-fascist Super Reich will spontaneously arise once "people" see what a "good idea" it is.

In other words, the people who designed the plans were fucking idiots.

But even idiots need puppets and they got a great one in Bush because one of his motivations was his parent was a target for assassination from Iraq.

This was a known thing. It never became a historical event. But it really did boil down to "They wanted to kill my daddy and my closest advisors (daddy's special friends) are telling me we should whomp them this time. Daddy didn't get the job done, but I will."

Daddy didn't get the job done because actual intel said "crushing the country could lead to so much horrible trouble, including..." an entire list of things that absolutely happened after Iraq pt 2.

And there was a whole host of people (looking at you Colin Powell) who were tasked to sell that bullshit.

It's why I will never trust the "we have secret information that we can't show you but it definitively proves we have to ask. Question. Have I seen the secret information? Well not directly, but I was told it's damning."

Damning all right because it's fake.

I missed most of the Iraq war due to being a baby, but every time I read about it I start wondering why we aren’t all talking about it all of the time

[maxinesgun]

fantasize ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

pitfighter!vi x fem!reader

drunk!vi, masturbation, pillow humping, fingering, whimpering, sub!vi?? kinda, top!reader, basically vi being a total perv and fantasizing ab you. wc 1k ᡣ𐭩

a/n: happy valentine's day! here's some vi smut 🤲🏻

Vi grunted as she threw herself down on the mattress, limbs sprawled out lazily and half-lidded gaze staring blearily up at the ceiling. The room spun around her, and everything felt thick and hazy, pleasantly numbed. It had been another rough day of fights; she'd sustained a few good hits to the face and would surely wake up with several new colourful bruises, but hell, it could have been worse.

After all, you had been there.

She'd caught sight of you somewhere around her third drink at the Last Drop, leaning against the far side of the bar chatting and laughing with a few friends, like always. The first few times she'd spotted you there, she'd satisfied herself with sneaking passing glances at you every once in awhile, worried about getting caught. Now, though, she'd become accustomed to letting her eyes linger over you indulgently as she nursed her drink⏤or, more accurately, several.

She couldn't help it, really. You were the brightest thing there, a treat for the eyes. It would be impossible to ignore you if she tried. And believe her, she'd tried. At first.

Normally you were far too preoccupied to take any notice of her, but tonight, you'd seen her. Perhaps sensing her gaze on you, your eyes had flicked over to her before she had the chance to look away. You'd held eye contact for a few seconds, a small grin ghosting over your lips before you turned back to your friends.

It was almost embarrassing what those few seconds had done to her⏤the swooping sensation in her stomach, followed by the immediate desire to bury herself alive. Why the hell hadn't she looked away? And why did you make her so nervous to approach you? Instead, she'd leaned back over the bar, knocking back the rest of her drink before resolutely making for the door.

Now, she replayed the whole thing in her mind over and over, her drunken thoughts clinging to the moment your eyes had locked on hers, on the coy quirk of your lips, how pretty you'd looked. The top you'd been wearing was strapless, exposing the bare skin of your shoulders, your collarbone, your neck.

God, what she'd give to kiss that neck. Let her tongue slip out to taste your skin, leave little red marks all over that would show she'd been there. She wanted to know what your lips felt like, what kind of sounds you'd make into her mouth as she kissed you.

A slow, hazy sort of heat was spreading through her as these thoughts ran through her head, made more intense by the alcohol in her system. Already, a needy ache was beginning to pulse in the pit of her stomach, and she sighed heavily, lazily rolling onto her side. Her leg was draped over a pillow, and her hips gave a small, involuntary twitch forward into it, the friction between her thighs sending a pleasurable jolt through her.

Vi's eyes dropped shut, sinking into the feeling as her hips shifted subtly into the pillow again, and again. Before she could stop it, her thoughts flew back to you⏤this time, more indulgent.

You were straddling her, pressing hot, messy kisses to her neck and shoulder. Your hands were running over her torso, her chest, pressing yourself against her hungrily. Your hips were rocking against her thigh, little sighs slipping from your lips against her skin. You were so wet for her, so desperate, so...

Stop it. A faint voice in the more rational part of her brain interrupted the scene playing out in her head. This is fucking weird. Don't be a creep.

But she was far too deep in her arousal now, and powerless against her swimming, inebriated thoughts. She knew she should stop. It was wrong. It was...

You were pushing her onto her back, leaning over her, looking down at her with an utterly sinful expression in your half-lidded eyes. Your bare tits were practically in her face, hanging full and perfect, and she was groping them, running her thumbs over your pebbled nipples.

"Oh, fuck," she hissed under her breath. She propped herself up on a forearm, clutching the pillow closer and humping against it in earnest now. Each rock of her hips sent a delicious wave of heat through her core, the friction against her clit making her dizzy with need.

She was breathing heavily, her head a jumble of dirty thoughts that were on the verge of incoherent. They flashed from one lewd image to the next, jumping back and forth between them, each one of them featuring you.

What would you sound like moaning her name? "Vi," you purred as you moved over her, your voice breathy and sensual and cracking with pleasure, "Yes, yes, Vi, feels so good..." Your lips were parted, your face contorted in pleasure as you ground your dripping pussy against her hand. The whole while, you were staring down at her, holding her gaze.

Fuuck, yeah. A jolt of pleasure hit her so strong that a strangled, keening whimper slipped out of her, and she began grinding her hips harder, her brows scrunching together as the coil of heat wound tighter and tighter.

In her mind's eye, your rising pleasure mirrored her own; she heard your moans growing louder and higher in pitch, saw your naked form moving in a faster rhythm, tits bouncing as you rode her fingers. Your head thrown back, those breathy sounds leaving your pretty lips.

Vi shifted, shoving her hand clumsily down her pants and groaning as she made contact with her own wet heat. She moved her fingers over herself feverishly, through her slick folds and up over her throbbing clit, her own moans spilling out in between her ragged breaths. She was focused on nothing but your face, picturing it edging closer and closer to the brink of release.

"Gonna come, Vi, gonna come so fucking hard⏤"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck⏤" she whimpered, the words barely coherent, as her body tensed up and she finally tipped over the edge, her orgasm crashing into her hard. She rode out each wave, brows furrowed, and then fell back onto the mattress, breathing heavily and letting her heavy limbs go slack.

Even once the last dregs of pleasure subsided, you'd still be there, etched into her mind like a tattoo.

[deathofacupid]

opposites attract, they say. they attract, but they don't last. at least, not satoru and you.

"'toru," you tug on his sleeve, the silk cool against your clammy skin. he glances away from the gaggle of people surrounding him, a practiced smile flashing across his face. it doesn't reach his eyes.

"yeah, baby?"

you inhale, the bass of the music vibrating through your chest, making it hard to breathe, let alone speak. "can we — could you…" the words catch in your throat. what were you asking for? sanity? a moment of quiet? "um," you stammer, "when's this going to be over?"

"over?" he echoes, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, as if the very concept is absurd. "babe, the party just started."

your party. the party you hadn't asked for, the party you dreaded.

"i know," you say, treading carefully. you knew he'd put effort into this. it's just… the room felt like it was closing in. it wasn't his fault, not really. he thrived in this environment, the center of attention, radiating that effortless charisma. people were drawn to him like moths to a flame. and tonight, the flame was burning too bright.

"but… it's just really, um," suffocating is the word that claws at your throat, but it feels too dramatic, too needy. "it's just kind of a lot."

he laughs, a booming sound that seems to amplify the noise around you, and says something you can't hear over the music. "'toru," you sigh, the sound barely audible, "i can't hear you."

he clicks his tongue, a flash of annoyance crossing his features, before he leans in and excuses himself from the group. he takes your hand, his grip a little too tight, and pulls you out onto the balcony of the penthouse. the city lights sprawl beneath you, a dizzying panorama that mirrors the chaos in your head.

"okay," he says, his tone impatient, as if this whole conversation is an unwelcome interruption. "go ahead."

the resentment simmers. you swallow it down. "toru, this is… nice and all, but, uh — i'm just not sure… not sure this is my scene."

he squints at you, his brow furrowed. "what do you mean? it's your party."

"i didn't want one, though. don't get me wrong, this was… thoughtful, i guess. it's just too much for me."

satoru blinks, genuinely surprised, as if you've sprouted a second head. "but…i mean, i thought you'd like it. look at how many people showed up for you."

"'toru, those people aren't here for me. i don't even know most of them."

"it's a party! like, a party party. of course, you won't know all of them."

"i probably don't even know three of them!" you snap, the frustration finally breaking through. "you know i don't like these things," you add, the words softer now, pleading.

"yeah," he scoffs, the sound laced with something you can't quite decipher. "i do."

"well, what's that supposed to mean?"

"nothing. it's just," he groans, running a hand through his hair, "frustrating."

"frustrating? it's frustrating? me wanting to spend my birthday with you, that's frustrating?"

"you are with me!"

"and, like, one hundred other people! what's frustrating is that you're not listening! i told you i wanted to spend today, just the two of us!"

"but that's what we always do," he mutters, the words barely audible.

"what? oh, i'm sorry, is quality time annoying?"

he pinches the bridge of his nose, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "that's not what i meant."

"that's what it sounded like."

"look, it's just… boring doing the same thing all the time. we like different things."

"yeah," you whisper, the words heavy with a sudden, sinking realization. "we do, don't we?" you shake your head, the movement small and defeated, and turn to walk past him.

"wait, where are you going?"

you shrug, unable to meet his eyes, "to go to a different thing."

[flwrstqr]

警告 : ❪ VALENTINES ❫ PUBLIC DISPLAY AFFECTION ── 𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. 𝗂 𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗅𝗒, 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖺 𝗏𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾.

𝓲. showing public displays of affection with enhypen

❪ 日语 ❫ : enhypen & fem!rea 1OOO ❜ skinship, petnames kissing ⎯ fluff head canons one shot ˊᯅˋ & click / archive

notes. . 다니 ⸝⸝ happy valentines day everyone~ hope you feel loved when reading!! my second valentines on tumblr (> <)

LEE HEESEUNG

heeseung has no shame, absolutely none, and it shows when you’re standing in line at a coffee shop, pretending not to notice the way his hand rests lightly on your waist. “you know,” he begins, leaning in closely, “if the barista doesn't call you the prettiest thing they've seen all day, i might have to correct them.” you roll your eyes, biting back a grin, but he catches it anyway, his smirk widening. “ah, there it is. my favorite smile,” he teases, voice low, like he’s telling you a secret meant for only the two of you. people are definitely staring now, but he doesn’t care. “heeseung,” you mutter, half-pleading, half-laughing, as his fingers trail down to interlock with yours. “what? just telling the truth, angel,” he says, grinning shamelessly, and somehow, even though you want to hide, you never really mind.

PARK JAY

"angel!" jay's voice echoes through the store, loud enough that heads turn, but you’re already used to it—used to the way he calls for you like you’re the only person in the world. you peek up from the display of luxury bags he insisted on buying you, only to find him grinning at you from across the store, holding up two pairs of heels. "which one, baby?" he asks, and before you can answer, he’s already walking over, wrapping an arm around your waist. "actually, you’re getting both, sweetheart." you roll your eyes, but your heart flips anyway, just like it does every time he effortlessly calls you by pet names in public, unbothered by the stares. "jay, let’s get something to eat after this," you hums, as jay presses a quick kiss to your temple. "whatever you want, my love." and really, how could you ever mind when he’s just so, so perfect?

SIM JAKE

"baby," jake whines, arms wrapping around your waist from behind as you’re browsing through a rack of clothes. his chin rests on your shoulder, and before you can even react, he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "you've been looking at this for so long," he pouts, swaying you side to side in his hold. you huff a laugh, but before you can respond, he turns your face slightly and plants another kiss—this time on your lips. "jake," you whisper, glancing around, but he just grins, completely unbothered. "what? i missed you," he murmurs, kissing your forehead, then your nose, then the corner of your lips. "missed me? we've been together the whole time," you say, exasperated. he only hums, linking his fingers with yours as he tugs you closer. "doesn't matter," he mumbles, kissing your temple. "i just wanna love on my baby, is that a crime?"

PARK SUNGHOON

"give me that," sunghoon says, already taking the shopping bags from your hands before you can protest. you blink up at him, watching as he effortlessly holds everything—your purse included—like it’s second nature. "sunghoon, i can carry my own stuff," you huff, but he just gives you a look, the one that means don’t even try. "why would you when i’m right here, baby?" he deadpans, adjusting the bags in one hand so he can reach out and tuck your hair behind your ear with the other. "at least let me hold my purse—" "no." his tone is final, but there’s a small smile playing on his lips as he takes your hand instead, lacing your fingers together. "just hold onto me, okay?" he murmurs, squeezing your hand as he leads you forward. and really, how could you ever argue with that?

KIM SUNOO

"baby, hurry!" sunoo whines, tugging at your hand as he weaves through the crowded street with practiced ease, practically dragging you along. his fingers are warm, intertwined with yours. "we need to get there before the line gets too long!" you barely have time to process where “there” even is before he’s pulling you along again. he looks back every few steps, grinning, cheeks slightly flushed from the cold. whenever the crowd gets too dense, he squeezes your hand twice—his little way of checking in. at crosswalks, he swings your joined hands playfully, humming some tune under his breath, and when you finally slow down in front of the café he was so determined to reach, he presses a quick kiss to your knuckles. "see? told you we'd make it," he says smugly, still holding your hand like he’ll never let go.

YANG JUNGWON

"you're cold," jungwon states matter-of-factly, already shrugging off his jacket before you can protest. you barely get a word out before he drapes it over your shoulders, his hands lingering just a little longer to adjust the collar properly. "you should’ve told me earlier." his voice is soft, barely above a whisper, but there’s something so undeniably warm about the way he looks at you. you wrap the oversized jacket tighter around yourself, the scent of his cologne lingering in the fabric, and he chuckles, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. then casually laces his fingers with yours, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. he swings your intertwined hands slightly, his thumb grazing over your knuckles, and when you try to tease him about being so soft, he only grins, leaning in just enough to murmur, "only for you, love."

NISHIMURA RIKI

“guess you’re stuck with me, baby,” riki drawls, already tugging you down before you can protest—not that you ever do. his arms loop around your waist, effortlessly pulling you onto his lap like it’s second nature. it is. “riki,” you sigh, not out of embarrassment but habit, settling against him as his chin drops onto your shoulder. “what? you’d rather stand?” he grins, tilting his head so his lips ghost over your ear. “nah, you love this.” a chuckle rumbles in his chest when you don’t deny it. “see? you fit perfect.” his fingers drum lazily against your hip. across the table, someone raises a brow, but you barely blink—meanwhile, riki revels in their reactions. “jealous?” he teases, smirking at them, then at you. “sorry, but my baby gets vip treatment.” you roll your eyes, but when his hand finds yours, you squeeze back.

[gingerbreedreads]

Coach’s Cameras 

Locker room cameras makes some players show off for coach.

"No, no the shower cameras are fake." Explained Coach Huntly. He was on the phone with the athletic director. There had always been horseplay in the showers after practice, but after a slip and fall led to injury, Coach had to take some action.

"It'll put a little fear in them." Said Coach. Of course, Coach installed real cameras. He'd always had a leering eye for his boys. The few glances here and there had excited him. Calling team captains into his office as they come out of the shower, dripping and nearly naked, was a thrill. Now he'd have a full view.

The next practice there was a mix of fear and confusion on the players faces. These all-Americans boys weren't used to feeling consequences for their actions, but Coach was firm about it. 

As Coach loaded up his laptop in his office he heard his players' grumbling though the microphone.

"It's gotta be illegal bro."

"No way it's actually real dude."

"Where even is it?"

While some jocks hunched shyly, most seemed indifferent. One boy, a rookie player named Mitch, was clearly on a mission to find the camera. When his eyes locked on the lens, it felt like he was staring right into Coach's eyes. Huntly's dick jumped in his short shorts, and Mitch's dick did too. The exhibitionist had found an audience.

Mitch helicoptered his dick, tugging on it until it was erect for all to see. The other guys laughed.

"Nothing's stopping Mitch, I guess."

"Yo Mitch, you giving Coach the same show we always get?"

Coach Huntly slid his shorts down, massaging his hard dick through his jock. It was clear that Mitch's displays were a regular thing. 

"You like that Coach?" Mitch said, smirking at the camera. "Hey Luke, let's show Coach what we do in the shower when we win."

Luke was a bigger guy, a gentle giant, who's round ass had been facing the camera the whole time. Mitch gave it a slap, and Luke jumped. He turned, showing Coach that Luke was just as turned on as Mitch.

"C'mon Mitch, not on camera!"

"There's no way that's real dude. And even if it's real, might as well show Coach what you'd do to be team captain next year." Mitch teased, and he slapped Luke's thick swollen cock. Luke doubled over and groaned. Mitch took the opportunity to shove his cock in Luke's mouth and start face fucking him. 

There were cheers, groans, and a few eye rolls from the team. Some players left and toweled off, some got closer to the action, stroking at the view, while others hung back and just watched.

The team captain, a trim ginger named Joe came up behind Luke. He buried his face in Luke's cheeks. Luke's body shook. The three of them moaned in cycles. Joe looked right to the camera and said 

"Coach I hope you're taking notes, cause I want you to eat my ass like this."

The shower had devolved into an amateur peep show. The team, either in defiance or bravado, took turns showing off for Coach, though Mitch, Luke, and Joe were clearly the most eager about the situation. Soon a few of the lurk and jerk jocks started to bust. A few eager boys took loads while others tried to shoot to the wall for distance.  

Mitch, Luke, and Joe had started a three way kiss in the center of the open shower. Mitch and Joe were jerking Luke and rubbing his taint, until he bucked shooting his load into Joe's hand. Joe swiftly smeared the load on Luke's face and the three of them continued kissing, snowballing to the cheers of the few left in the shower. Joe and Mitch both jerked themselves off and added their loads to the sticky kiss. 

Coach wanted to wait to the bitter end but seeing this, he busted into his jock. He bit his lip to keep from moaning. His dick didn't droop one bit as he stayed glued to the screen. A bit of ass slapping and teasing persisted as the boys toweled off.

Mitch called out as he left "see you later Coach, ya pervert!" Luke and Joe tried to sush him.

There was a few moments of total silence in the locker room and Coach's adjoining office. Then Coach scrubbed the video back to the start and watched the shower again and again And again.

—-

Coach found it challenging to look at his players in the same way the next day. He needed to be cool about this if he wanted another show. Sure enough when the boys took to the shower there was more posturing and jerking, though it seemed the novel thrill of being on camera had worn off for a few of them. 

Mitch, Luke, and Joe still led the pack, but most days it was a simple jerk and swallow in the shower. 

By the following week the rhythm had become predictable to Coach Huntly. The approach, the laughter, the joshing before the sexual drive in the boys took over was routine, all while Coach watched on his screen in the next room, rubbing himself through his jock.

It came as a surprise when Coach heard someone in his office.

"Damn Coach, you really are a perv!"

Coach whipped around to see Mitch, and Joe standing in towels, still dripping from the shower. He did a double take to his computer and to his confusion saw Mitch and Joe in the shower too.

"Whaaa?" was all Coach could get out before Joe interrupted.

"These WiFi camera are so easy to patch into. You'd think he'd have recognized he's watching Tuesday again huh?" Said Joe smirking and tenting his towel.

"Clearly he's just happy for the view. I mean look at him."

Coach tried to cover up his even more erect pouch. His head was spinning. He needed to get control of this.

"Get out of here boys, this isn't what it looks like."

As Coach reached down to pull his pants up, Mitch grabbed the laptop off the desk. 

"Hey!" 

But Mitch was already darting off into the locker room. Coach shuffled after him pants halfway up his legs. As Mitch arrived in the locker room he shouted into the shower.

"Well boys we were right, Coach is very happy to watch the game day footage."

"Boys this isn't what it looks like."

"Isn't it?" Said Joe as he grabbed Coach's pants and jock and yanked them down. Coach's hard, thick eight inch cock bounced for all to see. Luke, who was heading out of the shower just stood there slack jawed. 

"None of this leaves this room or you'll be off the team forever. Do you hear me?" Coach bellowed, but his grip on the team was slipping.

Mitch just smiled and said, "None of these videos can leave this room or you'll be out of a job forever, Coach."

Joe punctuated this blackmail with a hard spank on Coach's ass. Huntly knew now he was at the mercy of the lusty boys he'd been leering at. 

"What do you say we make coach the star of his next video boys?"

With a cheer coming from the large group shower, Mitch and Joe stripped Coach down and dragged him into the wet room. Careful to position him in the center the team went to work. Luke on his knees slobbered on Coach's hog, which Joe bent him over and ate his ass. Coach moaned but only before Mitch grabbed his face and pull him close.

"I want to see those eyes as you suck my dick."

Coach, like a puppy dog, looked up at the grinned Mitch as he leaned forward and started to blow him. 

The four of them, bucking and moaning got the rest of the team to a state of horny agitation. Someone asked,

"Hey Joe, you think Coach can take some punishment back there."

Joe spat on his finger and thrust it into his Coach. Huntly had taken poundings before, but never found himself ass up for a team of young studs like this. He shivered and Joe grazed his prostate.

"Oh yeah, he can take it." Joe stood up and using the body wash from the dispenser, pinned up his dick. Coach's eyes went wide as he felt Joe push in. Mitch just stared down and kept his gaze. 

"That's right Coach, you're ours now."

The next hour was a blur to ol' Huntly. He couldn't remember who was in his hole when, but he took a lot of his team. By the end a chant rose up.

"Cum on coach! Cum on Coach!"

They laid him flat on the shower floor and stood over him. Coach just looked up and saw a circle of hard jocks jerking over him. 

Pretty soon one boy busted, then another. They helped each other until they'd all pumped one load out. Mitch, made a point to cum all over Coach’s face, then pushed his load into coach's mouth.

The coach burst on himself to the cheers of the rest of the players.

"You get all that Joe?" Mitch called out.

"Yup, saved to the cloud."

Mitch patted Coach's red face. "I think I know what practice is going to look like now, if you don't want everyone to know what kind of pervert you are."

Coach could only sigh. He knew he was caught in a bind, but if this is the cost of being caught, he only wished it'd happened sooner.

Don’t ever drop the soap!! 😅

[domm1etae]

Right in Front of You

f!reader x roommate yunho

oneshot | mdni

1.2k

Y/N spends Valentine’s night searching for a hookup, only to come home empty-handed—until she realizes the perfect option was sitting in her apartment all along, proving that sometimes, the best things don’t need to be chased—they’re already waiting for you

nsfw tags under

f/m, vaginal sex, teasting, dirty talk, fingering, doggy style, top yunho, bottom reader, roommates, reader is on BC, roommates to fucking?

author's note: since yesterday was February 14th—aka Valentine’s Day—but i didn’t post anything, i decided to drop a little post-Valentine’s treat ;))

Y/N barely managed to keep her balance as she fumbled with the lock, heels dangling from one hand, bag slipping from the other. She was still in last night’s outfit—nothing too scandalous, but enough to scream I was trying to get laid and failed miserably. Her makeup wasn’t ruined per se, but her eyeliner had smudged just enough to give away that she hadn’t just stepped out looking fresh.

The moment she stumbled into the apartment, Yunho’s laughter rang through the living room. He was perched on the couch, long legs stretched out, nursing a mug of coffee like some judgmental prince.

“Well, good morning,” he drawled, a smirk playing at his lips. “What a sight I have right now.”

Y/N groaned, flipping him off without breaking stride as she tossed her shoes near the door.

“Rough night?” Yunho asked, his tone drenched in amusement.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” she grumbled, finally collapsing onto the couch next to him. “What about you? What did you do?”

Yunho took a slow sip of his coffee before answering. “Me? Oh, nothing crazy. Made dinner, played some games till like 2 AM, then went to bed.” He tilted his head toward her, eyes twinkling. “What about you? Who was the lucky one who took you home?”

Y/N groaned dramatically, draping an arm over her face. “That’s the thing. You’d think that on Valentine’s Day, the club would be filled with hot singles, right? But no. Just couples everywhere—kissing, slow dancing, rubbing their happiness in my face. Not a single man in sight.”

Yunho hummed, setting his mug down on the coffee table. “Huh. Well, I was alone yesterday, you know.”

She peeked at him from under her arm, brows furrowing. “What are you saying, Yunho?”

He turned to her then, closer than before, his gaze no longer teasing but intent. His voice dropped, slow and deliberate.

“If you wanted action,” he murmured, “you didn’t have to go to some stupid club.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as Yunho leaned in, close enough for her to catch the faint scent of coffee and whatever stupidly nice cologne he always wore. His arms rested on the couch, caging her in.

Her lips parted slightly, a mix of confusion and anticipation making her pulse spike. “You—what?”

Yunho scoffed, tilting his head at her like she was the dumbest person he’d ever met. “You’re actually so blind, Y/N,” he muttered, voice thick with amusement but something else too—something darker, something hungry. “You had the easiest opportunity to get laid right in front of you this whole time.”

His fingers trailed up her thigh, just barely skimming the fabric of her dress, and Y/N felt her brain short-circuit.

Looping her fingers behind his waistband, she tugged him even closer, their lips a hair’s breadth apart. “If that’s true, then maybe you should do something about it,” she murmured.

Yunho didn’t need to be told twice.

His mouth crashed against hers, hands sliding up to cup her face, thumbs digging in just enough to make her gasp. That was all the opening he needed, tongue slipping past her lips as he pressed his body flush against hers.

Heat coiled low in her stomach as Yunho’s hands abandoned her face in favor of something much more sinful—one slipping under her dress, the other palming her breast as he deepened the kiss, tilting her head just the way he wanted.

Y/N moaned into his mouth, fingers fumbling at his shirt, nails dragging over his abs before slipping beneath the waistband of his sweats.

“Fuck,” Yunho growled against her lips, his breath coming out shaky. “You’re really desperate, huh?”

Y/N had half a mind to be embarrassed, but then Yunho was pushing her dress up around her waist and dragging her panties down her thighs, and any rational thought she had completely dissolved.

He let out a low groan, fingers sliding through her slick folds, teasing her entrance before slipping one inside. Y/N’s breath stuttered, her back arching at the delicious stretch.

“Shh, keep quiet for now,” he murmured, smirking when she let out a sharp gasp. “We’ll see how long you last before you’re screaming my name.”

Y/N was about to snap back at him, but then he added another finger, curling them just right, and her head hit the back of the couch, a strangled moan ripping from her throat.

Yunho chuckled, working his fingers into her at a pace that was just slow enough to be torturous.

“You’re soaking wet,” he mused, voice dripping with satisfaction. “All that time looking for a one-night stand, and you could’ve just asked me.”

Y/N barely managed to glare at him, her fingers digging into his arms as she rocked against his hand, chasing the friction. “Stop talking and do something.”

Yunho raised a brow, then grinned. “Oh, you’re gonna regret saying that.”

In one swift motion, he withdrew his fingers and flipped her over, pressing her chest against the couch as he yanked her hips up. Y/N gasped, arching into him as he shoved his sweats and boxers down just enough to free himself.

She turned her head slightly, eyes widening as she caught sight of his cock—thick, flushed, and already dripping at the tip.

“Oh, fuck me,” she breathed.

“That’s the plan,” Yunho smirked, dragging the head of his cock through her slick folds before teasing her entrance.

And then he pushed in.

A broken moan ripped from Y/N’s throat as he sank into her, inch by inch, stretching her out in a way that had her thighs trembling.

Yunho let out a shuddering breath, his grip on her hips tightening. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he hissed. “You feel even better than I thought you would.”

Y/N barely had time to process that statement before he snapped his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt.

She choked on a gasp, back arching, hands scrambling for purchase against the couch.

“Oh my God—”

“Yeah?” Yunho groaned, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. “Go on, baby. Let me hear who’s making you feel this good.”

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, nails digging into the cushions. “Fuck, Yunho! You!”

He growled at that, fingers tangling in her hair as he yanked her head back slightly. “That’s right,” he murmured against her ear before biting down on her shoulder, setting a pace that had her body rocking against the couch.

Y/N felt like she was burning, pleasure coiling in her stomach as his thrusts grew rougher, more desperate.

“I can feel you squeezing me,” Yunho groaned, his hand sliding around to rub tight circles against her clit. “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

Y/N nodded frantically, barely able to form words. “Y-Yeah, fuck, Yunho—”

Her body tensed, pleasure exploding through her as she came with a cry, trembling beneath him. Yunho followed soon after, spilling deep inside her with a groan, his body slumping against hers.

For a moment, all she could hear was their ragged breathing.

“So... you wanna tell me that all this time I could’ve been getting the best dick ever, and instead I’ve been suffering in silence?”

Yunho chuckled against her skin. “Well, I guess we have time to make up for that.”

[heejamas]

nicest guy: 28. the super bowl episode

word count: 10k words (sorryyyy....) + 10 screenshots

warnings: MDNI!!!!!! explicit sexual content. petnames, spanking, unprotected sex (dont do it!!!!) all the fucking lot. spoiler alert im so sorry...... thank you......

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Jake pulled up in front of your place at exactly 5:30, just like he said he would. You slid into the passenger seat, buckling yourself in as he shot you a smirk. “You’re looking way too cute for a football night,” he teased, eyes flickering over your outfit.

“Should I have worn a jersey?” you joked.

“I mean, if it were a Chiefs jersey, I’d be down bad.”

“Don’t start,” You warned, trying to suppress a smile.

“Start what? Being charming?” He pulled away from the curb, one hand on the wheel, the other adjusting the radio. “Can’t help it.”

You rolled her eyes, looking out the window. “I feel like this is just another one of your many talents. Football, flirting, and what else?”

Jake glanced at you, grinning. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

By the time you pulled up to Heeseung’s place, the party was already in full swing. The scent of pizza, wings, and beer lingered in the air, blending with the distant roar of pre-game analysis from the TV. The house was packed with excited chatter, the occasional burst of laughter echoing through the rooms.

Jake led the way inside, his palm pressing lightly against the small of your back—an unnecessary but deliberate touch that didn’t go unnoticed. Your eyes scanned the crowded living room until they landed on Sunghoon, lounging on the couch next to Jungwon and Jay, a beer lazily dangling from his fingers.

He saw you and Jake enter together. His gaze flickered between the two of you, pausing ever so slightly on where Jake’s hand rested against your back. Then, as if amused by the whole scene, he smirked and leaned back into the couch, exuding that effortless, unreadable coolness that always made your stomach twist.

Jake shook off the feeling and turned his attention to the rest of the room. “Hey, losers,” Jake greeted, grinning as you walked further in.

Beomgyu, perched on the arm of the couch, dramatically clutched his chest. “Finally, some respect in this household.”

Heeseung, from his spot in the kitchen, lifted his drink. “About time you got here. You’re lucky, kickoff’s in fifteen.”

“Wouldn’t want to miss it,” you replied, moving to greet everyone properly.

Then, just as you were pulling away from Jay’s quick side hug, Sunghoon was there. And unlike the others, he didn’t go for a casual half-hug—no, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. Too close. Long enough for you to feel the firm press of his chest against yours, the warmth radiating off him, the way his fingers pressed lightly against your waist.

Your breath caught, just for a second. And then, finally, he let go, his lips twitching upward as he murmured, “You good?”

Before you could even formulate a response, Jungwon’s voice cut in, dry and unimpressed. “Yeah, okay. Let me say hi to my sister,” your twin gave you a pointed look, barely concealing his exasperation.

Sunghoon cleared his throat, stepping back. “Right.”

Jake, who had been watching the whole thing with narrowed eyes, didn’t waste a second. The moment you were within reach again, he pulled you slightly closer to his side, fingers brushing against yours as if reminding you who invited you in the first place. Sunghoon, of course, noticed. He didn’t say anything, but the amused glint in his eyes was enough to make Jake’s jaw tighten.

“Beer?” Sunghoon offered, reaching for the cooler beside the couch. He pulled out two bottles, holding one toward you first.

Before you could take it, Jake spoke. “I’m good.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t asking you.”

Jake just shrugged, undeterred. “I’m practically part of the furniture here. I know where the drinks are.”

Just as the pre-game commentary wrapped up, everyone settled into their spots. Jake pulled you onto the couch next to him, his hand resting lightly on your knee—another not-so-subtle reminder of his presence.

As kickoff loomed, the tension between the two boys at your sides remained. It wasn’t outright hostile, but it was there, simmering beneath the surface. And you? You were more than happy to sit in the middle of it all, enjoying every second of their silent battle for your attention.

Heeseung leans forward, gesturing animatedly with his beer as the pre-game analysis plays on the screen. “Look, I don’t wanna hear anything from you guys,” he starts, his voice carrying over the chatter in the room. “Saquon had the best season of his career. You can’t argue that. And the Eagles? They deserve this.”

You take a sip of your drink, barely listening until you hear Sunghoon scoff from the couch.

“Yeah, Saquon had the best season of his career,” Sunghoon drawls, shifting to rest his elbow on his knee, “for a team that isn’t the Giants.” His tone is just short of bitter, but the unimpressed look on his face seals it. “They don’t deserve shit.”

“Maybe,” Jake finally speaks up, his voice low, but carrying the weight of a rivalry that’s been simmering for years. “But if you ask me, they’ve still got nothing on the Chiefs.” He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, his focus entirely on Sunghoon now.

Sunghoon turns his head slowly, his gaze cold but measured. “Really? You think they can actually win it this year?” His lips curl into a slight smirk, the kind that’s just enough to test Jake's patience.

Jake doesn’t flinch, though. Instead, he grins, a sharp, knowing smile. “Better than the Eagles. Chiefs have the heart, man. You’ll see.”

The tension hangs between them, but it’s a different kind of tension now. Less hatred and more something familiar. Old rivalry with new ground to stand on. For a brief moment, you feel like they might just find their way back to being those old friends, the ones who used to laugh and trash-talk without the weight of everything that’s happened between them.

But then Sunghoon throws an arm over the back of the couch—right behind you, fingers brushing your shoulder, and whatever moment they just had evaporates instantly. Because Jake immediately notices. And he’s not about to let that slide.

Casually—almost too casually—he shifts, resting his palm on your knee. His thumb brushes the exposed skin there, barely enough to be anything, but enough to be something. You glance between them, feeling the shift in the air.

Sunghoon, unbothered as ever, just takes another sip of his beer, gaze fixed on the screen like he doesn’t feel Jake’s stare burning holes into him. Jake, on the other hand, keeps his focus straight ahead, jaw tight. And you? You just sit there, stuck between them, sipping your drink like you don’t feel their silent battle for dominance happening on your body.

The moment the Eagles score another touchdown, Heeseung shoots up from his seat like a rocket, nearly knocking over the bowl of chips on the table.

“LET’S GOOOOOOO!” he yells, arms stretched wide, face pure smugness. “JALEN HURTS IS HIM! MAHOMES WHO? I’VE NEVER HEARD OF THAT MAN IN MY LIFE!”

Beomgyu, slouched dramatically in his seat like he just received life-altering news, glares at Heeseung with unfiltered rage. “Bro, shut the fuck up. You’re acting like you even know ball.”

“I do know ball,” Heeseung shoots back, hands on his hips now, chest puffed like he personally threw the touchdown. “And you know what else I know? Jalen Hurts is CLEARLY better than Mahomes. Better QB, better team, better haircut—”

Beomgyu sits up so fast it’s like his soul re-entered his body. “Oh yeah? Well, Mahomes could—” He pauses, eyes darting around as his brain short-circuits. “—Mahomes could beat Jalen in a sword fight.”

Silence.

Even Heeseung looks momentarily thrown off. “A…sword fight?”

“Yeah,” Beomgyu says, doubling down like the absolute menace he is. “Mahomes has that wrist power, bro. Think about it. You ever see that man throw across his body? Now imagine him with a sword.”

The room collectively loses it. Jay actually wheezes. Sunghoon nearly chokes on his drink. Even Jungwon, who’s been silent for most of the game, shakes his head in pure disappointment.

Jake, however, is not laughing. At all. He’s sitting there, arms crossed, jaw clenched so tight you’d think his teeth might shatter. “This is actually disgusting,” he mutters. “Zero points. Zero. We’re getting cooked.”

Sunghoon, for once, nods in agreement. “Embarrassing.”

Jake glances at him. Sunghoon glances back. And in that moment, their mutual disdain turns into something far more powerful—mutual suffering.

“This defense is non-existent,” Jake continues, shaking his head. “Like, where the fuck is Chris Jones?”

“Right?” Sunghoon huffs. “And why are they not running the damn ball?”

“Dude, I was thinking the same thing,” Jake mutters, leaning in slightly. “And Mahomes keeps trying to force deep shots that aren’t even there.”

Sunghoon nods again, mirroring Jake’s energy now. “If they don’t get points before halftime, I swear—”

“They HAVE to,” Jake interrupts, his frustration now indistinguishable from Sunghoon’s.

From where you’re sitting—smack between them—you can feel the tension between their bodies shift. It’s no longer hostile. No longer cold. They’re in sync. Complaining. Critiquing. Agreeing. Like they’re supposed to.

Like they used to.

And even though they’re completely ignoring your existence, you can’t bring yourself to mind. Because this? This is good.

You glance across the room to Jungwon, who’s watching the entire scene unfold, seated next to Jay. He meets your eyes, then tilts his head toward Jake and Sunghoon, eyebrows raised slightly. You shrug. He smiles.

And just like that, it almost feels like everything is falling into place.

For now.

The room buzzes with anticipation as the stadium lights dim. The opening beats of Alright hit like a shockwave, and suddenly, the energy shifts. Jake and Sunghoon, who had been stewing in their shared misery, straighten in their seats, eyes locked on the screen. Then, almost in sync, they spring to their feet.

“OH, SHIT—” Jake yells, immediately jumping to his feet.

Sunghoon is right behind him, eyes wide, a rare grin spreading across his face. “Nah, this is about to be crazy.”

They’re both locked in, eyes glued to the screen, rapping along with Kendrick like the past twenty minutes of suffering never even happened. And just like that, they’re completely absorbed—every frustration about the game momentarily forgotten as Kendrick Lamar commands the stage.

Jake mouths the words effortlessly, nodding to the beat, while Sunghoon raps along with so much confidence you’d think he was personally featured on the track. By the time DNA. starts, the entire room is moving. Even Jay, who usually keeps his reactions in check, is bobbing his head, rapping under his breath.

Then, out of nowhere, Sunghoon turns to Jake, squinting in suspicion. “Wait—weren’t you Team Drake?”

Jake freezes mid-head nod. Slowly, he turns to Sunghoon, face contorted like he just got personally insulted. “Are you dumb?”

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow. “I swear you were a hardcore Drake fan.”

Jake gestures wildly toward the TV, where Kendrick is absolutely going off. “Yeah, I used to bump old Drake. But obviously I’m Team Kendrick. I have taste.”

Before Sunghoon can respond, Taehyun, who had been relatively quiet most of the night, suddenly starts rapping word for word. Like—flawless execution. Perfect cadence. No hesitation. The entire room turns to stare at him, completely dumbfounded.

Even Jay looks impressed. “Damn. You really went off just now.”

Taehyun barely blinks. “It’s Kendrick. You think I’d come unprepared?”

Before anyone can react to that flex, the instrumental shifts. A slow, deep bass creeps in, and SZA’s unmistakable voice floats through the speakers. The moment Luther starts, the atmosphere changes. The wild energy from the rap performances fades into something smoother, something that settles into everyone’s skin. The kind of song that makes you feel something.

Jake doesn’t even hesitate. Without a word, his hands slide around your waist, pulling you back into him.

Your breath catches slightly, but you don’t resist. Instead, you let yourself sink into his chest, the heat of his body wrapping around you. His grip is firm but easy, his thumbs brushing soft circles over your sides. It’s intimate. Subtle. A moment meant just for the two of you.

From across the room, Sunghoon watches.

His beer lingers halfway to his lips, forgotten, as his gaze settles on the way Jake holds you. The way your head tilts just slightly against Jake’s shoulder, the way Jake’s fingers flex around your waist like he’s making sure you’re real.

It’s the same feeling he had at the party. The same quiet observation. The same pull.

Meanwhile, Jake leans down, lips brushing against your ear. His voice is low, barely above a whisper.

“Meet me in the kitchen when this is over.”

The words send a shiver down your spine. It’s not just what he says—it’s how he says it. Low. Intentional. The kind of tone that makes your skin prickle with anticipation. Your fingers tighten slightly around his arm in response. Just enough to let him know you heard him.

But before anything else can happen—

“OH MY FUCKING GOD.”

Beomgyu’s scream is so loud it nearly drowns out the music. The entire room whips toward the TV, and what they see does not make sense.

Because there, standing on the sidelines of the Super Bowl halftime show, is—

“NIKI?!” Heeseung practically yells.

The camera pans across the crowd, and sure enough, Niki is right there, just casually vibing with John Cena, Yeonjun, and—

“WAIT—IS THAT TAYLOR SWIFT?!” Soobin screeches.

The reaction is instant chaos.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Beomgyu shouts, grabbing his head like he’s in physical pain.

“WHY IS HE WITH TAYLOR SWIFT?” Heeseung demands.

Jake is just staring at the screen, mouth open. “What the fuck is going on?”

Beomgyu throws his arms in the air, voice cracking. “WHY IS THIS OUR FRIEND? WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING?”

No one has an answer. And frankly, no one cares. Because at this point, reality doesn’t even matter. The only thing that does? The fact that Niki is somehow, someway, living a life no one will ever understand.

The chaos from the living room finally settles, leaving behind an electric buzz of excitement and lingering shock over whatever the hell Niki was doing at the Super Bowl. But Jake? Jake has other things on his mind.

Without a word, he stands, stretches like he’s just casually shaking off the loss, and heads toward the kitchen. No one really notices—except for Sunghoon.

Sunghoon, who has barely spoken since that moment behind the couch. Sunghoon, whose sharp gaze follows Jake’s every move as he disappears around the corner. And then, a moment later, follows you, watching in silence as you rise from your seat and slip out of the room.

When you step into the kitchen, the house feels different—quieter, softer. The sounds of the halftime show still echo faintly, but here, it’s just you. You and the weight of anticipation pressing against your ribs.

You push open the pantry door. The moment you step inside, Jake is there. Before you can say a word, before you can even breathe, his hands are on your waist, pulling you in, and his mouth crashes against yours.

You barely have time to register it, the sheer urgency of it all sending a shockwave through you. His grip is firm, fingers digging into your hips like he needs to feel you. Like he can’t stand a single inch of space between you.

You gasp against his lips, caught off guard but not unwilling. Not even close. Because as soon as the initial surprise fades, something inside you ignites. You kiss him back just as fiercely, your hands finding his shoulders, his jaw, anywhere you can touch. His lips move against yours with a desperation that makes your knees weak, makes heat coil low in your stomach.

When he presses you back against the pantry shelves, knocking into a box of cereal that almost topples over, you barely even notice. It’s hot. It’s needy. It’s so Jake.

You pull back just enough to catch your breath, chest rising and falling fast. His forehead rests against yours, his breath hot against your lips.

“What the hell was that?” you ask, a little breathless, a little dazed.

Jake exhales a laugh, his hands still gripping your waist, thumbs brushing slow, teasing circles over your skin. “Needed a little consolation for watching the Chiefs get absolutely embarrassed on national television.”

You raise a brow, still catching your breath. “And this was the best idea you came up with?”

He smirks. “Seemed like a solid plan.”

You hum, tilting your head like you’re considering it. “You know,” you murmur, voice dropping just slightly, “there are other ways I could console you.”

Jake stills. His grip on you tightens, just barely, but you feel it. The way his fingers flex against your skin. The way his breath hitches just slightly. His eyes flick down to your lips, then back up to meet yours. Dark. Heated.

“Oh yeah?” His voice is low, rough around the edges. “Like what?”

You don’t answer. You just kiss him. But this time, it’s different.

You take your time, letting your lips brush his, slow and teasing, just enough to leave him wanting. And it works, because Jake exhales sharply, like he’s losing his patience, like he needs more. So when he kisses you back, it’s almost punishing.

He presses you further against the shelves, his hands sliding up, fingers tracing the shape of your ribs, your waist, like he wants to memorize the way you feel. His lips part against yours, deepening the kiss, and when his tongue brushes against yours, you swear you feel it everywhere. It’s dizzying. It’s addictive.

The air in the pantry is thick. Heavy. Charged with something neither of you want to name.

Jake’s hands are still on you, his breath still warm against your lips, and the weight of his body pressing you against the shelves makes it impossible to think about anything else.

Until the door creaks open. Both of you freeze. A shadow fills the narrow doorway, and then—

“Oh, shit. My bad.”

Sunghoon.

Standing there, blinking at the two of you like he just realized what he walked in on. Jake doesn’t move an inch, body still pressed against yours, but his head snaps toward the door, eyes narrowing immediately. “You have to be kidding me.”

Sunghoon holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Relax. I was just looking for some salt.”

Jake lets out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. “For what?”

“A tequila shot.” Sunghoon says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker over you—your swollen lips, the way Jake is still practically caging you in. His expression doesn’t change much, but you see it. The knowing glint in his gaze.

Jake scoffs. “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

And then—without warning—Sunghoon steps inside. You barely have time to react before the door swings shut behind him.

Now, the pantry is even smaller, the three of you packed together in a space that suddenly feels suffocating. Your pulse spikes.

Because Sunghoon doesn’t just stand by the door. He moves closer. Not enough to touch you, not yet, but enough that you feel him there. His presence, his body heat.

The tension is a living, breathing thing between you all.

You swallow hard, trying to shake off the static running up your spine. “You guys need to stop fighting over me,” you say, breaking the silence. Your voice comes out steadier than you expected. “There’s no point.”

Sunghoon huffs a soft laugh. “Yeah? Try telling him that.”

Jake rolls his eyes. “You’re the one who just invited yourself, dude.”

Sunghoon shrugs, but his gaze stays locked onto yours. “Doesn’t change the fact that we both want you.” His voice is lower now, slower. “So, really, what’s there to stop?”

Your breath catches. Because the way he says it—like it’s inevitable, like there’s nothing either of them can do to change it—it does something to you.

Jake, on the other hand, just snorts, the corner of his mouth tugging up slightly. “At least we know you like to watch.”

You tense. Sunghoon doesn’t react at first, but you catch the subtle shift in his expression. The way his lips twitch, just slightly, like he’s considering something.

Then, he tilts his head. “You saying you don’t?”

Jake’s smirk falters—just for a second. But that second is enough. Sunghoon notices. You notice. Jake exhales sharply, jaw clenching for half a beat before he looks away, as if that alone will make the tension disappear.

It doesn’t.

Sunghoon shifts then, closing the distance just a little more. His voice is almost amused when he speaks again, but there’s an edge to it. “Does Jake know what happened last night?”

Your whole body tenses.

Jake stiffens slightly against you. “What are you talking about?”

You don’t say anything. Because you can’t. Because the way Sunghoon is watching you—like he already knows the answer, like he’s relishing in the fact that Jake doesn’t—has your brain short-circuiting.

Sunghoon hums, tilting his head, eyes flickering between you and Jake. “Maybe it would’ve been more fun if you were in the middle,” he muses, voice deceptively casual. “But I don’t mind sharing.”

The words send a sharp jolt of electricity straight through you. You don’t even get a chance to process them before Sunghoon moves again. This time, he’s right there, his chest nearly pressing into your side, while Jake is still solid behind you. Trapped. Between them.

Jake doesn’t move away. Doesn’t react. Just watches.

And then—Sunghoon leans in, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “You don’t mind either, do you?”

Your eyes flutter shut.

And then, as if your body isn’t already seconds away from betraying you, you feel it. Sunghoon’s lips pressing against the curve of your jaw. Slow. Deliberate. Your breath hitches. He doesn’t stop there.

The next kiss lands just beneath your ear, softer this time, barely there. Then, lower—trailing down, down, until his lips brush against the side of your neck. And just like before, Jake doesn’t stop him. He lets it happen.

And the realization nearly makes you dizzy. Because you’re not sure which is worse. The fact that Sunghoon is doing this. Or the fact that Jake is letting him.

Jake exhales through his nose, slow and measured, before his hands tighten around your waist. He pulls you back against him, fitting you flush to his chest, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck.

Then, his lips press against your pulse point—hot, deliberate. You shudder. And he feels it.

You know he does, because his grip on your hips tightens, and his voice drops when he murmurs, “Do you like this?” Another kiss. This time, his teeth graze your skin, making your breath catch. “Or do you just want me?”

The question barely registers, because Sunghoon doesn’t let you answer.

His lips are still on you, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your jaw. His tongue flicks against your skin, teasing, and then his teeth—just barely. You whimper. Jake exhales sharply behind you.

Sunghoon chuckles, low and smug, not pulling away. “C’mon,” he drawls, voice smooth as silk. “It’s a simple question, Y/N.” He presses another kiss to your neck, lingering there for a moment. “Who’s the nicest?”

Your fingers tighten around the fabric of Jake’s shirt. You tilt your head slightly, giving Sunghoon more access, and his lips curve against your skin. Jake notices.

“The nicest guy?” you murmur, your voice breathless. “Is there even a right answer?”

Sunghoon huffs out a quiet laugh, shifting even closer, if that’s even possible. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

Jake scoffs behind you, but doesn’t pull away. If anything, his hold on you firms. “This is insane,” he mutters, lips brushing against the back of your ear. “You do realize that, right?”

Sunghoon smirks. “And yet, you’re still here.”

Jake doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t argue. Doesn’t move.

Instead, he just huffs, jaw tight. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

Sunghoon hums. “You’re not?”

Jake doesn’t answer immediately. His hands move, sliding lower over your hips, his thumbs brushing your waistline. You feel his breath against your skin, heavy and warm. Sunghoon waits. Watching.

And then, quietly—like he doesn’t really want to admit it—Jake mutters, “I didn’t say that.”

Sunghoon grins. And you swear, you can feel the shift in the air.

Sunghoon doesn’t pull away. Not completely. His lips brush the corner of your mouth—just barely, just enough to make you chase him. But the second you lean in, he tilts his head back, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Did you ask Jake if you can kiss me?” he murmurs, eyes glinting with amusement.

Your lips part slightly, and then, slowly, you smirk. Jake shifts behind you. “Do you want to?” His voice is lower now, raspier.

You turn your head just enough to meet his gaze. “Can I?”

Jake exhales sharply through his nose, tongue swiping over his bottom lip before he tilts his head. Then, smoothly, he says, “Only if you want to, princess.”

Your stomach flips. You don’t even get a chance to process the way your pulse spikes, because the second you turn back to Sunghoon, leaning in—

Shouts erupt from the living room. Loud, excited. The unmistakable sound of a game back in full force.

Sunghoon takes a step back, running a hand through his hair, exhaling like he knew this would happen. “Guess that’s our cue.” He gives you a lingering look before glancing at Jake. Then, with an infuriating smirk, he mutters, “We’ll finish this after the game.”

And then he walks out. Leaving just you and Jake. Still standing there. Still reeling.

Your eyes meet his, and for a moment, neither of you say anything.

Then you both laugh.

Soft, breathless. Like you just did something insane.

Jake shakes his head, exhaling through his nose, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “And here I was thinking you were the quiet type.”

Your lips curl. “And here I was thinking you were good at reading people.”

Jake grins, stepping closer, just for a second, just enough to catch you off guard. Then, before you can react, he leans in and presses a soft, lingering kiss against your lips. Not rushed. Not urgent. Just something.

And then, just as smoothly, he pulls away, shooting you one last smirk before disappearing out the door.

The game is over. And it’s a disaster. For Jake, at least.

The Eagles won. By a lot. And while Sunghoon is pissed because he hates the Eagles, he’s nowhere near as devastated as Jake, who’s staring blankly at the TV like his entire world just crumbled. Next to him, Beomgyu looks equally wrecked.

Which, of course, means Heeseung is having the time of his life.

“Damn,” Heeseung drawls, stretching lazily as he leans back against the couch. “You know, I tried to warn you guys. Jalen Hurts clears Mahomes. Every time.”

Beomgyu immediately turns his head, eyes wide with betrayal. “You’re really talking right now? He lost to the Chiefs like two years ago!”

Taehyun, sitting beside Heeseung, snickers. “I mean, Heeseung's got a point.”

“Oh, shut up, Taehyun!” Beomgyu whirls on him. “You’re only saying that because you were a Hurts fan before it was cool.”

Soobin, who has been quietly enjoying his drink on the other side of the room, finally breaks and bursts out laughing. “Dude,” he wheezes, watching as Beomgyu and Heeseung continue bickering, “you are so pressed right now.”

Meanwhile, you feel a tug at your wrist. You glance over to find Jungwon pulling you aside.

Your twin gives you a pointed look, nodding toward the door. “I’m staying at Jay and Sunghoon’s place tonight. We’re dropping Woonhak off first.”

You nod. “Alright.”

Jungwon narrows his eyes at you, lowering his voice just enough. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he warns. Then, before you can say anything, he grins. “Actually, never mind. Do something stupid. It’s funnier that way.”

You smack his arm.

Before he can retaliate, Jake appears beside you.

“I can take you home,” Jake offers, shoving his hands into his pockets. His voice is casual, but the way he glances at you from the corner of his eye gives away everything. Jake tenses beside you, shoulders going rigid, hands still shoved deep in his pockets. His jaw clenches so tight you swear you can hear his teeth grind.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, is the picture of ease—standing there with one hand gripping the back of the couch, the other lazily holding a half-empty beer bottle. He doesn’t even look at Jake. Just shifts his gaze toward you like he’s only mildly interested in the conversation.

“I can come too.”

He says it like it’s nothing. Like it’s just a casual suggestion, like he’s not doing this purely to get under Jake’s skin. And oh, it works.

Jake lets out a sharp exhale through his nose, tilting his head slightly before dragging his tongue over his teeth. He doesn’t even look at Sunghoon. Just keeps his eyes fixed ahead, like he’s counting to ten in his head, like he’s fighting the urge to say something that’ll start a whole new problem.

You glance between them, your stomach twisting—not with discomfort, but with anticipation. Because there it is again. That energy.

Jake finally speaks, voice clipped. “We’re good.”

Sunghoon hums. A soft, low sound that you can barely hear over the background noise of the party. But you hear it. Jake hears it.

The corner of Sunghoon’s mouth twitches, like he’s amused, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. And then he shrugs. “Alright.”

But he doesn’t sit back down. He doesn’t grab another drink. He doesn’t join the others, who are still laughing over Beomgyu and Heeseung’s never-ending argument.

No. He follows. You feel his presence behind you as you and Jake walk toward the door. Not saying a word. Just trailing behind. Like he has nowhere else to be.

The walk to the car is silent, but not in the comfortable way. It’s that kind of silence that feels thick with unsaid words, with tension in the air. You feel the weight of Sunghoon trailing behind you, just there, his presence like an electric current that you can’t escape.

Jake, though—Jake is close. Too close. His hand keeps brushing against your back, pulling you slightly closer to him every few steps. His fingers, warm and firm, rest on your waist for a fraction of a second, and you can’t tell if it’s accidental or deliberate. The way he moves with you, like he’s anchoring you to him, makes your head spin just a little.

When you reach Jake’s car, you lean against the door, your back pressing into the cool metal. You glance up at both of them, and in that moment, you can’t help but notice how much taller they are than you. Jake, with his broad shoulders and stance that screams confidence, and Sunghoon, with his calm, almost nonchalant presence. Both of them are standing there, looking down at you, and you’re not sure whether to feel small or intimidated.

It’s quiet again. You shift slightly, unsure of what to say, how to break the awkward silence. But Sunghoon doesn’t hesitate.

“Jake’s really bummed out about the loss,” he says, his voice casual, but his smirk is sharp, almost teasing. “You should comfort him.”

Before you can process what he means by that, Sunghoon leans in and places a quick, light kiss on the corner of your mouth. It’s so unexpected, so sudden, that it makes your breath catch.

And just like that, he straightens up, giving Jake a playful tap on the shoulder. “See you at practice tomorrow, man. Have fun,” Sunghoon adds, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he gives one last glance at you and Jake. Then, without waiting for any reaction, he turns on his heel and walks away, disappearing into the night as though the entire thing was just some casual exchange.

You stand there, blinking, a little stunned. You’re not sure how to process what just happened, how quickly it all unfolded.

Jake, on the other hand, doesn’t seem fazed at all. He smirks, his gaze flicking from Sunghoon’s retreating form to you, and without missing a beat, he opens the passenger door.

“Shall we?” he asks, his voice low, tinged with that playful confidence that always seems to make your heart race.

You hesitate for a moment, still processing everything—Sunghoon’s kiss, the tension, the way Jake has been acting around you—but then you nod. Because at this point, why not? The night is full of unexpected turns, and you’re not sure where this one will lead, but you can’t deny that you’re curious.

You slip into the passenger seat, the door shutting behind you with a soft thud, and Jake slides into the driver’s seat with a smirk that tells you, without words, that he’s very much looking forward to what comes next.

When you arrive at your house, you take a breath and unlock the door. The cool night air makes you shiver slightly, but there's a warmth inside you, a feeling of anticipation you can't shake off. You turn the handle and open the door, glancing back at Jake, who’s just a few steps behind you.

“Make yourself at home,” you say, trying to sound casual, but the words come out a little softer, a little more inviting than you intended.

Before you even have a chance to step inside, Jake is right behind you. His hands find your waist, pulling you toward him as he presses your back against the door.

Without warning, he kisses you, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that feels like it's been building all night. You’re caught off guard for a second, but the moment he deepens the kiss, you melt into him, your hands running up his chest, your fingers tangling in his shirt.

Jake pulls back just enough to look at you, his breath ragged, his gaze intense. “I couldn’t wait anymore,” he mutters, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Needed you alone.”

Your heart races, and you smirk back, teasing, “Guess it’s about time then.”

Before you can say anything else, Jake’s lips are back on yours, and this time, they trail down your jaw, pressing soft, burning kisses against your neck. You gasp softly at the sensation, arching into him as his hands grip your waist tighter, pulling you even closer.

His voice comes out hushed, almost as if he’s fighting to keep control. “I’ve been dying for this.” His lips move to the soft spot just below your ear, and you feel every inch of him pressed against you.

Without warning, he lifts you in one smooth motion, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. The surprise causes you to gasp, but you cling to him, your hands finding his shoulders for support.

You’re pinned between Jake and the door, his body all heat and strength, and you feel his hands sliding down your back, gripping you tighter. He holds you against him as his lips return to your neck, kissing and sucking along the sensitive skin there. Your breath catches in your throat, a shiver running down your spine.

“Jake,” you breathe out, your voice shaky from the intensity of the moment. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling him even closer.

Jake grins, the spark in his eyes never fading, before he presses his lips against yours again, this time even more urgently, as if he can’t get enough. The kiss is deep, intense, and you can feel every part of him. You’re breathless, lost in the moment, your heart pounding as he lifts you a little higher, pressing you against the door with a force that makes everything around you disappear.

When he pulls back just enough to speak, his voice is low and rough. “Where’s your room?” he asks, breathless.

You try to steady your heart, your chest rising and falling quickly. “Second door on the right,” you answer, barely able to form the words.

Jake doesn’t hesitate. He moves toward the hallway with you still in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist. But as he reaches for the first door, the one you know is Jungwon’s, you quickly stop him, tugging on his shoulder.

“No, not that one!” you say urgently, making him pull back. “That’s Jungwon's.”

Jake stops, raising an eyebrow at you with a smirk. “I didn’t want to remember your brother lives here tonight,” he teases.

You laugh softly, the tension easing slightly. “Yeah, me neither,” you admit, rolling your eyes.

Jake chuckles, heading for the right door this time. He opens the door to your room easily with one hand, holding you in place with the other as he kicks it shut behind him. Without missing a beat, he walks you toward the bed, placing you gently onto it as he leans over you. The weight of him on top of you is both grounding and electric, and your heart pounds even harder.

You glance up at him, your legs still wrapped around his waist, and your chest tightens with anticipation. The silence between you is thick, but it's comfortable, and it's clear what you both want.

Jake's gaze softens for a moment, his voice low as he leans in closer. “You okay?” he asks, his hot breath brushing against your lips.

You nod, barely able to speak. "Yeah… I'm more than okay"

He smirks at you, and Jake’s lips crash against yours again, hungry, urgent. The intensity of his kiss takes your breath away, leaving you dizzy. Your hands instinctively tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on. You can feel the heat between you both, a pressure building that makes your heart race even faster. Your hands roam over his chest, feeling the muscles under his shirt, the warmth of his skin. He lets out a low groan, pulling away just enough to catch his breath.

“You’re killing me,” he mutters, but there’s a smirk on his lips, before his lips are on yours again, his kiss deeper, more insistent.

His hand slips beneath your shirt, fingertips grazing the soft skin of your waist, and you shiver under his touch. Every nerve in your body feels like it’s on fire. His other hand moves to your neck, gently tilting your head back, giving him better access. He kisses your jaw, then moves down to your neck, sucking lightly, making you gasp in pleasure.

You arch into him, your legs tightening around his waist. He responds with a growl, lifting his head slightly to meet your eyes, his breath coming in short bursts. And then, in a sudden move, he pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands still gripping your waist. "Tell me you want this," he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours, almost teasing.

“I want this,” you whisper back, your voice shaky with desire.

His smirk deepens, and without saying another word, Jake’s lips are on yours again, more demanding this time, as if he’s losing himself in the moment. His hands roam over your body, tracing the curve of your waist, pulling you even closer. You can feel the weight of his desire, and it only makes the kiss more intoxicating.

You slip your hand beneath his shirt, your fingers brushing the warm skin of his chest. His breath hitches, and he responds with a growl that sends a shiver down your spine. He pauses, his lips hovering over yours, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“You’re making this hard to keep up with,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire, his hands gripping your waist like he’s trying to hold onto some semblance of control.

You smile against his lips, teasing him just a little. “Maybe I like making you lose control.”

His eyes flash with something darker, something hungry. Without warning, he pulls away from the kiss, his hands at the hem of his shirt. “You'd like this?” he asks, his voice low, his gaze intense. He’s not asking for permission—he’s already making the decision for you.

You nod, breathless, watching him as he pulls his shirt off, revealing the muscles beneath, the definition of his chest and abs making your heart race. His eyes lock onto yours as you take him in, his gaze searching yours for something. A challenge, maybe. A question.

“You like what you see?” he asks, his voice full of teasing, his grin almost predatory.

You raise an eyebrow, an amused smirk pulling at your lips. “Maybe.”

His grin widens, clearly enjoying the teasing, his gaze burning with a mixture of challenge and desire. “What about Sunghoon?” he asks, his words coated in playful provocation. “You prefer him?”

You tilt your head, your smirk never fading. “I don’t know... I haven’t seen him like this,” you tease, your eyes flicking between his, enjoying the power shift.

Jake’s smirk falters just for a second, before he leans in close again, his lips brushing against your ear. “Well, I guess he’ll just have to get a taste of me then.”

His words send a wave of heat through you, but before you can say anything else, he moves to lift your shirt, his hands warm against your skin. “May I?” he asks, his voice lower now, a soft but commanding question. You hesitate for a moment, looking into his eyes. Then you nod, your heart beating faster as he pulls your shirt off. The moment feels like everything is falling into place, the tension building to its peak.

His eyes fall to the red lacy bra you're wearing, and a small chuckle escapes his lips. “Did you plan this?” he asks, his voice a mix of amusement and desire.

You smirk, your heart racing. “Maybe.”

And as he stares at you, the silence between you both is charged with anticipation. Jake leans in again, kissing you with the same intensity, as if the world outside doesn’t even exist. Every touch, every movement feels like it’s driving you both further into this shared moment.

But even then, his hands are gentle, patient, as if he’s savoring every second of this tension, of what’s building between you both. And in that moment, it feels like the entire universe has slowed down—just you, him, and the magnetic pull between you.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmurs, his voice low, thick with something that makes warmth pool in your stomach.

You bite your lip, heat creeping up your neck as his gaze dips lower. Jake’s eyes darken at the sight of your body. He reaches out, slipping his fingers beneath the hem of your skirt, brushing against your thigh. It’s barely a touch, but it sets your skin on fire.

“You’re so soft,” he whispers, his breath warm against your shoulder as he leans in, pressing a lingering kiss just beneath your jaw. He trails lower, lips ghosting over your collarbone, then lower still. His hands work the fabric of your skirt higher until it pools around your hips, exposing even more of your skin to him.

His lips find the inside of your thigh, slow and deliberate. Each kiss is featherlight, but the heat of them leaves a mark you can’t see but feel everywhere. His hands steady your hips as he presses closer, mouthing at your skin, murmuring praise between each kiss.

“So beautiful.” A kiss. “So perfect.” Another. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

You can’t think straight, not when he’s looking at you like that, not when his lips are so warm and his hands are so gentle yet firm. Every touch, every word, every heated glance makes the air between you buzz with something electric.

He lifts his head slightly, meeting your gaze, searching for something—permission, reassurance, the silent confirmation that you want this as much as he does. And you do. More than anything.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, fingers still teasing at the edge of your skirt, eyes locked onto yours like they hold the universe. His fingers gently toying with the hem of your skirt. He looked at you, waiting for your response, unable to keep the teasing smile off his face.

“I want you, Jake…” you say in a ragged voice, and the moment the words leave your lips, you see the shift in him. His eyes darken, his breath catches, and a slow, wicked smile spreads across his face. Desire surges through him, his fingers tightening against your skin as he drinks in the sight of you.

His lips ghost over your sensitive skin, his breath warm and teasing. “Is that so?” he hums, voice laced with amusement and hunger. “Then I’ll gladly give you what you want.” His hands make quick work of your skirt, sliding it down your hips and tossing it aside. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, then another, each one slower, more deliberate, more intoxicating.

His kisses trail higher, slow and agonizing, leaving a path of heat in their wake. His hands grip your thighs, steadying you, keeping you exactly where he wants you. He’s in no rush, savoring every reaction, every little gasp that slips from your lips.

His gaze flickers down, lingering on your red lace underwear. A slow smirk tugs at his lips as his fingers trace along the delicate fabric. “Matching,” he muses, his voice thick with appreciation. He leans in, lips brushing just above the lace, his breath hot against your skin. “You look absolutely delicious.”

“Do you like it?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake’s grip on the fabric tightens slightly, his eyes dark with desire as he takes in the sight of you. The deep crimson lace against your skin, his favorite color—it’s almost too much. A soft groan escapes him as his fingers skim the delicate fabric, feeling its softness against his fingertips.

“Oh, I love it,” he breathes, his voice thick with arousal. His fingers toy with the edge of your underwear, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. The anticipation in your gaze makes his pulse quicken. But before he moves any further, he pauses, his expression softening slightly as he searches your face. “May I?” His voice is lower now, almost reverent.

Your nod is all he needs. Jake’s heart pounds, his excitement thrumming in his veins as he watches you give him permission. Holding your gaze, he slowly peels the fabric down, his hands trembling slightly as he slides the lace from your body.

His eyes roam over you, drinking in every inch, every curve, every perfect imperfection. Wonder flickers across his face, as if he’s seeing you for the first time. As if he can’t believe you’re his, even if just for tonight.

His lips return to your skin, trailing a path of slow, lingering kisses along your inner thighs. Each touch is deliberate, teasing, meant to drive you wild. He takes his time, savoring the way your body reacts to him, how you shift under his touch, how your breath catches in your throat.

His lips hover just above your core, his breath warm against your skin. He looks up at you, eyes dark with desire, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Do you want me to taste you, princess?” His voice is low, commanding, dripping with need.

“Jake… Fuck, yes,” you gasp, nearly trembling with anticipation.

A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face. “That’s what I wanted to hear,” he murmurs. His grip tightens on your thighs as he settles between them, his breath ghosting over your skin.

And then, with excruciating patience, he finally gives you what you’ve been aching for. Jake's warm breath ghosts over your aching core, sending a shudder through your body. Your legs tremble as you shift, fingers gripping the sheets with desperate intensity.

His tongue glides along your slick folds, tracing every inch before dipping lower. A sharp gasp escapes you as he circles your most sensitive spot, teasing the tight ring of muscle before pushing the tip of his tongue inside. The sensation sends a spark of heat straight to your core, leaving you breathless.

Slowly, he drags his tongue back up, parting you with ease before latching onto your clit. He flicks it, slow and deliberate, just to hear the way your breath stutters. He knows exactly how to unravel you.

His tongue dips into your entrance, pushing inside before pulling back, leaving a glistening trail of saliva mixed with your arousal. You're already a mess beneath him, and he hasn't even started yet. Jake devours you, his hot tongue exploring every inch of your dripping cunt, savoring you like he can’t get enough. He sucks hard, his lips sealing around you as he tilts his head from side to side, his face buried between your thighs, never giving you a moment to breathe.

"Jake..." Your voice is barely a whisper, but he hears it—feels it in the way your body responds to him.

His tongue pushes inside you, again and again, relentless and desperate, sending sharp jolts of pleasure up your spine.

"I want you dripping for me," he rasps against your heat before diving back in, feasting on you with reckless hunger.

You're so wet that you can feel it dripping down the insides of your thighs, warm and slick against your skin. Jake pulls away from your entrance, shifting his focus back to your aching, desperate clit. He captures it between his lips and sucks hard, releasing you with a wet, obscene pop. The sound alone sends a fresh wave of heat through your body. He repeats the motion, but this time, before sucking again, he drags his tongue over the sensitive tip, teasing it with slow, deliberate strokes while keeping it trapped between his lips.

He buries his face deeper between your thighs, pulling you against his mouth like he never wants to let go. All you can do is moan—loud, needy—while he devours you, moving his head up and down, side to side, his tongue relentless, his mouth unforgiving.

You come undone against his tongue, body trembling, your pleasure spilling into his mouth. And he doesn’t stop. His movements slow, his tongue gliding over every inch of you, licking up every drop of your release as if he’s savoring it.

"You're addictive, you know that?" His voice is low, rough with hunger, as he presses soft kisses to the insides of your thighs, nipping at your skin before leaving one last, lingering suck against your swollen cunt. Then, he drags himself up your body, eyes dark and lips parted, still wet with you.

"You're so fucking sweet," he murmurs, voice thick with desire. You shudder as his fingers trail down your hip, finding your slick heat with ease. "And so wet..."

He brushes the tips of his fingers over your entrance, barely touching you, yet it’s enough to make you whimper. A smirk tugs at his lips as he catches your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down before pulling away with just enough force to leave you breathless.

"Jake, please..." He leans down, pressing soft, teasing kisses along your jawline, his voice a low, satisfied purr beneath your ear.

"Please what, princess?" he murmurs, making you whimper in anticipation. When you don’t answer right away, he lets out a quiet chuckle against your neck. "What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?"

Then, he rolls his hips against your soaked folds, the hard outline of his cock pressing right where you need him most. A breathy moan escapes you, your fingers gripping onto his waist.

"Take this off," you demand, tugging at the waistband of his pants. His lips curl into a cocky smirk as he slowly pulls away, rising to his knees in front of you. Without breaking eye contact, he unbuttons his pants at an agonizing pace, his gaze heavy, teasing. And when he finally pushes them down, your eyes drop to the thick outline straining against his boxers, your body instinctively moving closer.

But before you can reach for him, his fingers wrap around your chin, tilting your face up to meet his eyes. "And what do you think you're about to do, huh?" His voice is deep, dripping with amusement. You bite your lip, looking up at him, unable to find the words.

Jake tilts his head, watching you closely. "You’re gonna have to tell me, princess. Do you want to suck my dick?" His tone is dark, commanding, and when you nod, his smirk only deepens.

"Yeah, that’s not happening. Not tonight." His grip tightens just enough to make your breath hitch. "Because I need to be inside you right now."

A moan slips from your lips, the sheer authority in his voice sending a rush of heat straight through you.

Jake leans in, closing the distance, capturing your mouth in a feverish, desperate kiss as he gently but firmly pushes you back onto the bed. His hands waste no time sliding down his body, and with agonizing slowness, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of his underwear, peeling them off inch by inch.

You’re left breathless as he kneels between your legs, his sculpted body bathed in the dim light, every muscle defined, every inch of him unbearably perfect. He catches the way your lips part, the way your eyes drink him in, and he lets out a low, knowing chuckle.

A wicked smirk tugs at his lips as he wraps a hand around his rigid length, guiding the swollen tip to your soaked entrance. He drags it slowly along your slick folds, teasing you, spreading your wetness over himself with deliberate precision.

"This what you want?" he murmurs, pressing just the tip inside, barely stretching you open before pulling back. A whimper escapes you, frustration mixing with pleasure. "Tell me, princess," he coaxes, teasing you again—just the tip, just enough to drive you insane.

"Fuck, yes!" you curse when he presses his cock against your throbbing clit, gliding it between your dripping folds before stopping at your entrance once more.

Jake exhales sharply, shaking his head to get rid of the strands of hair falling into his eyes. And then, finally, he pushes in, slowly sinking his entire length inside you. Inch by inch, he stretches you open, filling you completely, letting you feel every bit of him.

His movements are unhurried, savoring the way your body molds to him, the way you take him so perfectly. His abs tighten with every slow thrust, his muscles flexing under the dim light as he sets a steady, intoxicating rhythm that has you both moaning softly.

He doesn’t speed up, doesn’t change his pace. Instead, he leans in, capturing your lips in a deep, languid kiss. Your body melts against his, every inch of you consumed by the way he moves inside you—deep, deliberate, relentless.

"You have no idea how much I wanted to hear you moaning for me," he rasps, his voice thick with arousal. The moment his words sink in, your walls clench around him, and he groans, head dropping to your shoulder. "Fuck, don’t squeeze me like that," he growls.

Your hands find his face, pulling him into another messy, desperate kiss, your bodies moving together in perfect sync. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, licking up the thin layer of sweat that coats your skin before biting down on your shoulder—just enough to make you whimper.

He knows exactly what he's doing.

"Let me ride you," you plead, your voice unsteady, barely above a whisper.

Jake doesn’t hesitate. He pulls out of you with a low grunt, sitting back against the bed, legs spread, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

Your eyes trail over him—the way his thick cock pulses against his abs, the sheen of sweat on his tanned skin. Your core clenches at the sight, and without another thought, you crawl toward him.

"Anything you want," he murmurs, tapping his thigh twice. "Come here." You obey, straddling his lap, gripping the base of his cock before aligning it with your entrance. "Sit on it nice and slow for me, baby," he urges, voice dark and filled with desire.

You sink down onto him, taking him inch by inch, swallowing his deep, guttural moan as his hands grip your ass, guiding you through every movement.

You ride his cock, rolling your hips until you find the perfect rhythm, bouncing on his thick length that stretches you so deliciously. Jake meets your movements, thrusting up in sync with you, making everything even more intense.

"Fuck, you're so hot," he growls, landing a sharp slap on your ass. A needy moan escapes your lips, and he chuckles darkly, delivering another one. "You like this, huh?" Another slap. "You like getting spanked… you like it when Sunghoon watches. You're not as innocent as I thought."

His words make you clench around him, and he groans under you, biting the corner of his lips as you quicken your pace. His head falls back, his jaw tightening as he sinks his teeth into his lower lip. Slowing your movements, you grind against him, teasing him.

"Fuck—" he curses, frustration lacing his voice.

His hands grip your waist as he notices the way your thighs begin to tremble from exhaustion. He takes control, thrusting up into you with deep, powerful strokes that leave you gasping and gripping his shoulders.

"A-ah… just like that!" you cry out, your body trembling from the force of his thrusts. He pounds into you, hitting all the right spots over and over again.

"You're so fucking tight," he groans. Your eyes rake over his body—his toned arms and sculpted abs, flexing with every movement. His dark, slightly damp hair clings to his forehead, and his parted lips spill out the most sinful moans. His eyes, darker than ever, squeeze shut as he tilts his head back, consumed by pleasure. Jake is pure perfection.

Your walls flutter around him, signaling the orgasm building deep inside you. Sensing it, Jake tightens his grip on your waist, holding you still as he thrusts up harder, deeper. "Ah—Jake! This feels so good…!"

"I know, princess. I know…" Your moans mix with his, and as the pressure within you finally explodes, you let out a sharp cry. "Cum for me, baby," he groans, voice rough and desperate. "You're squeezing me so tight, fuck—"

With his words, you unravel completely, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. Your body trembles uncontrollably, the overwhelming pleasure sending sparks through your veins. Your pussy clenches around him, milking his cock as he continues to guide your movements, his hands gripping your ass firmly.

"Baby…" you whimper.

Jake groans, his muscles tensing beneath you. His cock throbs inside you before warmth floods your core as he spills deep inside. His mouth parts in a silent moan, his eyes squeezing shut, his entire body shuddering as he rides out his release.

Breathing heavily, he lets his head fall forward, forehead pressing against yours.

"Angel," he whispers, still catching his breath. Your bodies remain connected, neither of you willing to move just yet. You take the opportunity to kiss him—slow, lingering—your fingers trailing along his sharp jawline, nails scratching his skin softly.

Completely spent, you collapse onto his chest. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer, letting you rest your head over his heart. His fingers brush gently over your cheek, his touch soothing. "How can you be this perfect?" he murmurs.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly, still recovering. “You’re driving me insane, Jake…” you manage between deep breaths. He chuckles, scrunching his nose.

"You’re the one driving me insane, love." His fingers move to your hair, stroking it softly. Your body relaxes against him, sinking into his warmth. "Feeling better now?" he asks.

You smile, tilting your head up to look at him. "If every time we watch an NFL game together ends like this, I might start watching more often."

He grins, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"I wouldn't mind that at all," he muses, eyes locked onto yours, deep and captivating. "But next time, you better bring luck to the Chiefs."

prev | masterlist | next

author's note: SO...... THAT HAPPENED..... LMAOOOOO ok so this was the very first smut scene i've ever written so.... hope u guys like it and ALSO im sorry i took this long to post it, it's because i've been really busy these past few days and i was struggling very hard writing it so. anyway!!!! here it is. HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY EVERYONE

taglist: @jayparked @jungwonsstrawberriesnchocolate @kixri @soobnuuy @dreamiestay @somuchdard @nyyoryyu @atinyrosedoor @enhaverse713586 @miszes @wildtigerlili @hoonkishoe @wilonevys @m1dn1ghtv1olet @who-tf-soddhi @ilovewonyo @nickiminajleftasscheek @ikeulove @payformycoffeeandleave @jvngw0nlvr @qtke @nikirangs @rairaiblog @tinyteezer @catecita @aespaqq @cyberstephzz @jakesimfromstatefarm @maniluvzyou @stormy1408 @missychief1404 @heevrs @shuichi-sama @enhastars @immelissaaa @pjselee @hexnoia @strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @love-4-keum @doublebunv @minfolio @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @doveblackboat @psychotic-girl-666 @kukkurookkoo @allie-mcginn @jkslvsnella @wintereals @why4anne @jakesfurry 

[hy6erion]

Ok so hear me out, roommate!jayce "accidentally" finding readers panties and getting off smelling them, getting caught and then punished by basically being used (thigh riding, face sitting... whatever?) and cumming untouched... WHO SAID THAT?!? I didn't, you have no proof I did🧍‍♀️... please💐❤️

~🍒

𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 - 𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⇢ 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭, 𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢, 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭! 𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞-𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠/ 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐭𝐟, 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐚y 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬...𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬! 𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐣𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 o( ❛ᴗ❛ )o

Living with Jayce had been easy—too easy. You should’ve been more suspicious of how well he respected your space, how he never barged into your room uninvited, how he always knocked before entering. He was the perfect roommate.

Or at least, that’s what you thought.

Jayce had a secret. A filthy, shameful secret.

And it involved you.

It started as an accident. At least, that’s what he told himself the first time. He’d gone into the laundry room, needing to toss in a few of his gym shirts, when he saw them. A delicate scrap of fabric, pale and lacy, barely covering anything at all—your panties.

He should’ve looked away. Should’ve just ignored them. But his fingers twitched before he could stop himself, reaching out and plucking them from the pile. The second he felt how soft they were, something in his brain short-circuited.

He wanted to put them down, really, but the scent of you was still clinging to the fabric. And before he could even process what the fuck he was doing, he brought them up to his nose, inhaling deeply.

That was where it all started.

Now, it had become a dangerous addiction.

Jayce knew it was wrong, knew he was crossing so many lines, but every time he found himself alone in the apartment with your laundry in the basket, he couldn’t stop himself.

And tonight was no different.

You’d gone out earlier, telling him you wouldn’t be home until late. Which gave him plenty of time.

Jayce sat on his bed, muscles tense, the familiar thrill of guilt making his cock throb as he reached under his pillow and pulled out the pair he’d stolen earlier that day. His fingers trembled slightly as he unfolded them, spreading the soft, lacy fabric over his palm.

They were tiny. He could barely imagine them covering your pussy, the thought making his mouth dry as he sucked in a sharp breath.

His dick was already hard, thick and leaking against his stomach, but he took his time, savoring the moment. He lifted the panties to his face, eyes fluttering shut as he inhaled.

Fuck.

The scent of you hit him like a drug, sweet and addictive, making his cock twitch in his fist.

His free hand wrapped around his length, giving himself a slow stroke as he kept your panties pressed to his nose. He imagined you wearing them, imagined them clinging to your cunt, soaked through with your slick.

His strokes turned rougher, more desperate, precum leaking from the tip as he gritted his teeth.

“Fuck…” he groaned, low and wrecked. “Bet this tiny thing barely covers your cunt, huh? Wonder if you know how good you smell.”

The thought of you walking around in these, completely oblivious to how much they were ruining him, made his stomach tighten. His thumb swiped over the tip of his cock, smearing precum down his length as he rutted into his fist, panting now.

He was so close—so fucking close.

And that was when it happened.

The soft creak of a door opening.

“Jayce?”

His whole body froze. Oh, fuck.

His head snapped up so fast it nearly gave him whiplash, and there you were, standing in his doorway, eyes wide.

For a split second, neither of you moved.

Then, your gaze dropped—to his lap, to the panties still clutched in his fist, the way his cock twitched against his stomach, flushed and aching.

Silence. Thick. Heavy. The tension so suffocating it made his chest burn.

Then, you took a slow step forward.

Jayce swallowed hard, heart hammering against his ribs.

“Wait—” But you didn’t wait.

You tilted your head, eyes darkening as they flicked between his face and the mess between his thighs.

You should’ve been shocked. Maybe even disgusted. Any normal person would’ve been.

But you weren’t normal. Not when it came to Jayce.

And especially not when you’d just caught your perfect roommate rutting into his own fist, whining into your stolen panties like some pathetic pervert.

Your gaze dragged over him slowly, letting the moment stretch. His cock twitched under your scrutiny, his grip tightening around the soaked lace still in his hand.

You watched the realization creep across his face, the way his jaw clenched, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.

He knew he was fucked.

Good.

You took another step forward, eyes locked on his, and something in him shrank. The confident, charming Jayce you knew—the one who always had a cocky grin and an easy way with words—was nowhere to be found.

Now, he was just a wreck. A desperate, guilty mess, caught in the act.

“Well,” you murmured, voice syrup-thick. “Aren’t you a filthy little freak?”

Jayce let out a strangled sound, shame burning high on his cheekbones. His fingers twitched, as if debating whether to drop the evidence of his crime, but it was too late.

Your panties were still soaked with his precum. The proof was right there.

“You—fuck, I—” he stammered, voice hoarse, but you cut him off with a sharp look.

“Shut up.”

His mouth snapped shut instantly.

Your lips curled. Oh, this was interesting.

The ever-dominant, ever-in-control Jayce Talis, reduced to a shaking mess just from getting caught.

He shifted slightly, as if to cover himself, but you weren’t having that.

“Hands behind your back.”

His brows twitched together, like he was about to protest—until your gaze darkened.

“I said hands behind your back, Jayce.”

A pause. Then—slowly—he obeyed.

The moment his arms moved, his cock was left bare to you, flushed dark and leaking, the veins along his shaft throbbing as he throbbed helplessly in the open air.

God, he was so fucking hard.

You smirked, then undressed slowly, teasing, keeping eye contact with him. Jayces mouth watered, head spinning as he watched you. He wanted to touch you so badly, take your tits in his hands, run his hands along your things- but he can’t.

You stepped forward until you were standing right at the edge of the bed. Until he had to tilt his head back to keep looking at you.

His breaths were coming in short, shallow gasps, and you could see how badly he was fighting the urge to close his legs.

Cute.

“You know,” you mused, voice saccharine sweet. “I should be disgusted by this.” You reached out, plucking your panties from his lap, watching how his cock twitched at the loss of them. “But I’m not.”

Jayce swallowed hard, lips parting slightly as he stared up at you, waiting.

“But I am pissed,” you added, letting your tone drop. “Because this? This is fucking pathetic.”

A full-body shudder ran through him. His hands flexed behind his back, muscles tensing.

“I mean, really, Jayce? You steal my panties, jerk off like some desperate little bitch, and think you deserve to cum?”

A sharp inhale. He looked ruined already.

You tilted your head, watching the way his thighs tensed, the way his cock jumped at every degrading word you threw at him.

“Did you even think about what would happen if I caught you?” you continued, stepping forward again, until your knees brushed against his. “Or were you too busy humping your own fist like a needy mutt?”

A whimper. He fucking whimpered. Oh, this was fun.

You reached out, fingers sliding along his jaw, tilting his chin up. His lips parted automatically, his pupils blown wide, desperate, waiting.

Your next words came like silk-wrapped steel—soft, but unforgiving.

“If you want to act like a bitch in heat, Jayce,” you purred, “then you’re going to be treated like one.”

And with that, you moved.

Before he could react you pushed him back, climbing onto the bed and straddling his broad shoulders, your knees pressing into the sheets on either side of his head.

The second he realized what was happening, he let out a wrecked groan, his breath hot against the inside of your thighs.

His hips jerked, his cock twitching, leaking onto his stomach as you hovered just inches from his face.

He tried to move—tried to lean up, to get closer, but you planted a firm hand on his throat, pushing him back into the pillows.

“Did I say you could move?”

His breath hitched. His jaw clenched, muscles flexing under your palm as he forced himself to still.

“… No,” he rasped, voice strained.

“Good boy.”

A shudder racked through him, his fingers curling into fists behind his back.

Slowly, slowly, you lowered yourself until your soaked cunt was barely ghosting over his lips. Close enough that he could smell you, close enough that he could taste the heat in the air—but not close enough to give him what he wanted.

Jayce shook. His mouth parted on instinct, trying to bridge the gap, but your hand on his throat tightened.

“Ah, ah,” you scolded, smirking as he choked on a moan. “You’re not getting anything until you beg for it.”

His breaths came in shallow, panting gasps. His hips kept twitching, his cock smearing precum across his stomach as he fought to keep still.

“Please.”

A single word. Wrecked. Shattered. Almost painful in its desperation.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Louder.”

“Please,” he gasped, eyes wild now, hands trembling where they were locked behind his back. “Fuck, please—need to taste you, need your pussy on my tongue—”

That was more like it.

You hummed in satisfaction, then—finally—lowered yourself fully onto his face.

The second his lips met your cunt, Jayce groaned, deep and guttural. His tongue flicked out instantly, licking into your soaked folds, lapping up everything you gave him like a starving man.

You smirked. Now, this was how he was meant to be.

Ruined. Desperate. Drowning in you.

You rolled your hips slightly, grinding down, loving the way his moan vibrated against you. His tongue was frantic, fucking into your cunt with so much need, like he was trying to make up for every single depraved thought he’d ever had about you.

But you weren’t going to let him off that easy.

You reached down, threading your fingers into his hair, gripping tight.

“Don’t stop until I say,” you ordered, rocking your hips harder, forcing him deeper against you. “And don’t you dare cum until I tell you to.”

A whimper. A muffled yes, fuck, please, lost between your thighs.

You grinned, rolling your hips again.

“Good boy.”

—

You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting on his face.

Long enough for Jayce to lose himself completely, that was for sure.

His tongue never stopped—lapping, flicking, thrusting into your soaked cunt like he needed it to breathe. His moans were wrecked, almost pathetic, vibrating against your clit as he devoured you with no restraint, no hesitation.

Like he was starving for you.

You, on the other hand, were perfectly in control.

Perched atop him, legs spread, your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him there, you took exactly what you wanted from his mouth, grinding your pussy down against his lips, using him like he was nothing more than a toy.

Which, really, was all he was at this point.

Jayce had no power here.

Not when he was flat on his back, hands locked behind him, hips twitching pathetically every time he moaned against your cunt.

Not when he was this desperate.

You smirked down at him, your thighs flexing as you rocked against his tongue, dragging your soaked pussy over his lips, teasing yourself with the pressure.

“Fuuuuck,” you sighed, head tilting back. “You’re so good at this, Jayce. So eager. So fucking needy.”

Jayce let out a muffled whimper beneath you, his hands twitching.

You knew what he wanted.

He wanted to touch you. Wanted to grab your hips, hold you down, grind you against his tongue harder—fuck, maybe he even wanted to flip you over, take control, rut his cock into your cunt like the desperate mutt he was.

But he couldn’t. Because you hadn’t let him.

And that was the best part.

You glanced down, taking in the sight beneath you. His face was soaked with your slick, lips shiny, chin glistening. His muscles were shaking with the effort of keeping still, his chest rising and falling in shallow, panting gasps.

And his dick?

It was a mess. A thick, flushed, aching mess, twitching wildly against his stomach, completely untouched. Precum smeared across his abs, dripping down his length in humiliating little spurts every time you moaned for him.

He was so hard it had to be painful.

And you weren’t going to give him a single second of relief.

Not yet.

You shifted your grip in his hair, tugging his face up just enough for him to see the way you were using him.

“Tell me, Jayce,” you murmured, voice all silk and poison. “How bad does it hurt?”

A wrecked whimper left his throat, muffled against your folds. His hips jerked, cock twitching.

“Be a good boy and use your words,” you ordered, rolling your hips over his mouth. “Or do I need to make it worse?”

Jayce groaned, his head moving frantically beneath you, like he was trying to shake his head no but too desperate to stop licking you.

You smirked, fingers tightening in his hair.

“That’s what I thought.”

He whined, the noise sharp, helpless.

God, he was so fucking close.

You could feel it—feel the way his whole body trembled, the way his cock twitched harder, precum dribbling down his shaft like it was trying to spill without permission.

Which was not going to happen.

You sat up slightly, just enough to pull his mouth away from you, ignoring the wrecked little gasp he let out.

Jayce’s lips were red, swollen, dripping with you. His pupils were huge, his expression glassy, wrecked.

He throbbed wildly, straining against nothing, the head an almost angry shade of red. His thighs flexed, desperate for friction, but he didn’t dare move.

Not unless you told him to.

Which you wouldn’t.

You hummed, dragging a single finger up the underside of his cock, just barely grazing the sensitive skin.

Jayce jerked, a sharp, choked-off gasp ripping from his throat.

“That bad, huh?” you mused, cocking your head.

“Please,” he croaked, his voice completely wrecked from moaning into your cunt. “F-Fuck—please, I can’t—”

“You can,” you corrected, smirking as you dragged your finger back down his cock, watching the way his abs twitched under the stimulation. “And you will.”

Jayce let out a low, broken sob, his hands shaking where they were still locked behind his back.

“You thought you could get away with it, huh?” you murmured, nails scraping lightly along the base of his cock, watching as his stomach clenched. “Stealing my panties, touching yourself without permission like some depraved little perv?”

He shuddered, head tilting back against the pillow, throat bobbing.

“N-No,” he gasped, voice hoarse. “I—fuck, I didn’t—”

“Didn’t what?” you interrupted, letting your nails scratch lightly over his thigh. “Mean to be a filthy slut?”

A choked-off noise, his cock twitching violently.

You grinned.

“Didn’t mean to get caught,” you corrected for him, dragging your fingers back up his shaft, stopping just short of the tip.

Jayce howled. His hips jerked up on instinct, cock flexing, seeking even a second of friction—but you were faster.

Before he could even think about it, you moved—slamming your hand down onto his stomach, forcing him back into the bed.

The growl in your voice was nothing short of dangerous.

“Did I say you could move?”

Jayce froze. His whole body locked up beneath you, his chest heaving.

“N-No,” he rasped, voice barely a whisper.

“No, what?”

Jayce sucked in a shaky breath, his throat trembling.

“… No, ma’am.”

A slow, satisfied smirk curled at your lips.

“Perfect”

A wrecked whimper left his throat. His cock twitched again, so hard it looked like he might cum just from those two fucking words.

You leaned down, brushing your lips over his ear, whispering your next words like they were the cruelest thing in the world.

“You don’t get to cum, Jayce.”

His whole body jerked, a strangled gasp punching out of his chest.

“You can beg all you want,” you continued, dragging your nails over his abs, avoiding his cock completely. “You can whine. You can cry. But you don’t get to cum until I say.”

Jayce sobbed. A real, broken, helpless noise, his cock flexing wildly, desperate, ruined.

You grinned.

“Hope you’re ready to suffer, baby,” you purred, settling back onto his face. “Because we’re just getting started.”

Jayce was gone.

A complete, fucking mess. And you had done this to him.

He was sprawled out beneath you, shaking, soaked in sweat, his hair damp and sticking to his forehead. His chest heaved with ragged, uneven breaths, his lips swollen, still glistening with your slick, his jaw slack as he whimpered softly, brokenly.

He was still twitching, so flushed it almost looked bruised, straining untouched against his stomach, leaking in humiliating little spurts every time his muscles trembled.

He had been so close for so long. So unbearably, painfully close.

But you hadn’t let him cum. Not once.

Not through all the times you had used his mouth, grinding down onto his tongue until you were a moaning, trembling mess, not through the wrecked sobs and choked-off pleas he had spilled against your thighs, not through the way his cock had dripped onto himself, untouched, denied, ruined.

He had been your personal fucking toy for what felt like hours—licking, sucking, begging, but getting nothing in return.

And now?

Now, he was completely fucking wrecked.

“P-Please,” Jayce sobbed, his voice hoarse, ruined from crying out against your cunt. “Please—fuck, I c-can’t—”

His hips twitched helplessly against nothing, cock flexing again, precum pooling onto his abs. His thighs were trembling, muscles locked tight, every single inch of him screaming for release.

You sighed, dragging your nails lightly down his stomach, watching as his whole body jerked like he had just been electrocuted.

His cock twitched wildly, as if even that tiny touch was too much, but you still didn’t touch him.

“You can’t what, Jayce?” you murmured, watching him squirm beneath you, weak, ruined, crying.

“Hngh—” He choked on his own breath, head tilting back, tears slipping down his cheeks. “C-Can’t—fuck—can’t h-hold it—”

You smirked.

“But you will, baby,” you whispered, dragging your fingers back up his stomach, avoiding his cock completely. “Because I own you right now. You only cum when I say.”

Jayce sobbed.

His hands, still locked behind his back, shook with how badly he wanted to grab you, to force your hand around his cock, to make himself cum after so fucking long.

But he couldn’t.

Because he knew—if he even tried to touch himself, you wouldn’t let him cum at all.

And he would fucking die if that happened.

His whole body trembled beneath you, his hips shaking, cock so desperate that you swore he might start cumming untouched if you kept this up.

“You’re crying,” you cooed, watching another tear slip down his cheek. “Poor thing. I must’ve really fucked you up, huh?”

Jayce whined, wrecked and needy, his cock leaking onto himself now, his stomach shiny with precum.

“Bet you’d do anything to cum, wouldn’t you?” you continued, reaching up, brushing a single thumb over his flushed cheek.

“Anything,” he gasped, voice completely fucking wrecked. “*Anything—fuck, please—please—I c-can’t—I need—”

“Need what?” you teased, letting your nails graze over his inner thighs, watching his cock jerk.

“Need to cum,” he sobbed, his thighs flexing. “Please—please, baby, f-fuck, let me cum, I’ll be so good—”

You sighed, as if thinking about it.

Jayce held his breath.

“Fine.”

Jayce let out a wrecked sob of relief.

“T-Thank you—fuck, thank you, I—”

“But,” you interrupted, your smirk sharp. “You don’t get to touch yourself.”

Jayce froze.

His cock twitched violently at your words, precum dripping onto his stomach.

“You wanna cum so bad?” you murmured, running a single finger through the mess smeared across his abs. “Then you do it just like this.”

Jayce let out a strangled, choked-off whimper.

Cumming untouched? Like this? After hours of denial? When he was this overstimulated?

He couldn’t.

He shouldn’t.

But fuck—fuck—his cock twitched at the thought, his balls aching, body trembling with need.

“Come on, baby,” you cooed, settling back on his thighs, watching the way his whole body shook beneath you. “Be a good boy and cum for me.”

His hips jerked up on instinct, his stomach tightening so fucking hard it looked like his body was fighting the orgasm, like he had been holding it back for so fucking long that now it physically hurt to let go.

And then— He broke.

“Oh—oh f-fuck, fuck—!”

His body snapped taut beneath you, thighs flexing, muscles locking—

And then he was cumming. Untouched.

A wrecked, violent orgasm, thick spurts of cum spilling onto his stomach, so much it was dripping down his abs, hot and messy and never-fucking-ending.

His body shook through it, breathless sobs spilling from his throat as his cock twitched wildly, spurting again, and again, and again, like his balls had been so full that they physically couldn’t stop releasing.

“Fuck—fuck, oh fuck, please, I-I can’t—”

But he could.

And he would.

Because you weren’t stopping him.

His whole body was screaming for it now, his hips twitching, his cock still dripping cum even though his stomach was already covered in it.

It just kept coming. It hurt, it felt so fucking good, his body on fire, his brain completely blank, nothing left except the satisfaction of finally cumming—

It was over.

Jayce collapsed beneath you, his body giving out, boneless, ruined.

His chest was still heaving, his stomach sticky, his cock twitching weakly, completely fucking spent.

Tears still clung to his lashes, his lips parted in a soft, broken little whimper.

And you—You just smirked, reaching down, dragging a single finger through the mess on his abs.

“You really are a filthy little slut, huh?” you mused, lifting your hand, inspecting the thick, sticky cum now smeared across your skin.

Jayce didn’t answer.

Couldn’t answer.

He was gone.

You grinned “Hope you’re ready for round two, baby.”