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lustlovehart · 2 months ago

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[ Monsters List ] - Sensitive info with targets abilities

A/n: Not my usual writing at all! these details are relationship stuff each character has with the reader that isn’t shown in the main story. (Some details are omitted to avoid spoilers). Now that this is done, I’ll be going back to the main story line now ^^. If i’m missing any warnings, please say so.

Pairing: [Monster!Twst x Reader] Featuring, Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Cater, Trey, Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Azul, Jade, Floyd, Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Rook, Epel, Idia, Malleus, Lilia, Sebek, Silver, Rollo, & Neige.

Summary: Dear, [Name], Crowley just informed me he did not give the courtesy of listing all the beasts and their abilities into your possession, please allow me to be the one to aid you. Here are bullets of their names and prowesses, as well as species. Please, do stay safe and out of trouble, and remember to eat and sleep well. Love, From, Rollo.

“Did it send?” “I… I’m sorry Sir Rollo, it seems we were unable to reach [Name] in time…” “…What.”

Warnings: Some fuffy and some aren’t, Stalking, Mentions of Nsfw (Vil). Zombies (Ace, Deuce), Biting (Ace, Deuce, and Jamil), Squeezing? (Jamil, Floyd), Hints of possession in each section, Blood Drinking (Epel, Jade, Lilia), They’re all monsters that are evil so… Murder, Kisses (Kalim, Floyd, Malleus), Blood,

Prologue Chapter

Riddle Rosehearts [ Ghost ]

- Warning: Capable of Magic. [ Magic is a mystery in the field, all that is known is it’s abilities monsters have that aren’t typically in their species skillset, as well as being especially powerful to utilize it ]

- He posses the abilities of, phasing, possession, kinesis (many different kinds), invisibility, telepathy, and short moments of time where he can have a physical body. He tends to forget he’s a ghost leading to numerous times where you’ve accidentally injuried yourself and he rushes to your side to give aid, only for his to hand phase through you instead of truly helping. He feels guilty not being able to help you.

There’s a secret part of him that feels less guilty and more angry, about being incapable of touching you all the time. Sometimes, he wishes he was Ace just so he could wrap some part of him around you, but alas, he can only do so in short intervals, which just… isn’t enough.

- Has a habit of just, watching. You’ve caught him at your window at night. He insists coming in without permission is unlawful, to which you tell him looking at you through glass is just plain creepy. You now invite him for tea parties, yet that still doesn’t stop him from longingly gazing through the glass that separates you two. (freak)

- Glows a bright red when he’s either angry or extremely flustered. You walked in one time when the former was happening and were temporarily blinded, in your own temporary home no less…

With the latter… he was helping you figure out a crossword puzzle from a lost book you had found during the night. When he helped you figure it out, he swears your smile was so bright he was blinded. In your case, at least you didn’t need a lantern to see the page anymore.

- He has numerous stitches on his body, his mouth, his neck, and his heart, or at least, where it would’ve been had he still had it. In the short times when he decides to take on a physical form, he enjoys letting your hands trace over the numerous threads through his skin… He won’t admit it, but it’s a comfort.

- When he’s working, his exposition completely changes. You get scared of him, you forget just how determined he is to being the pinnacle of perfection, even as a monster.

- Survival: Fear and Grievances, prays on victims through Possesion and death.

Ace Trappola & Deuce Spade [ Zombies ]

- Infectious Bites. There have been many close calls where the two almost bit you, secretly hoping to turn you into them in their delusions of being with you forever, it never works though cause when they try, you turn and give them a smile that haunts them so bad they can’t bear the thought of you hating them. The idea always rears its ugly head back to them, but then you treat the two like a regular human and, unknowingly, save yourself just a little longer.

- Anatomy Control (Disassembling limbs and still having control). Deuce has a very common occurring tendency, that leads him to lose his limbs on occasion. He can still feel what they feel, but when they separate from him, they tend to have a mind of their own. There have been several times where you’ve been the one to return a limb, typically his hand, and he’s all fidgety cause it just refuses to let go of you.

“I… I promise this doesn’t usually happen…! I have no idea why it won’t let go of you” with how lovingly it was stroking your hand earlier (which you won’t mention to Deuce)… You’re not too sure either… Does it like the feeling of warmth? “Next time this happens, just… Feel free to stab it” he looks dejected, but you accept his offer nonetheless.

- Ace has asked to sleep with you in your bed because his grave is so cold and lonely. You wouldn’t want him dying alone a second time right? That’s too cruel. He was surprised when you accepted, even more so when you said there weren’t rules like “You have to stay on this side of the bed!” or “Don’t touch me!”, he asked you if you had a thing for him, to which you only quirk up your eyebrow at his question.

“Hm…? I’ve slept with someone before, I don’t think it’s that serious.” … What. Who’s this someone?! He doesn’t end up sleeping as he’s left wondering who you’ve been with before him, little does he know this someone was just a reserved monster hunter who was watching over you with a fever.

- They’re the most attached to you, in a physical sense. Considering at least one, or even more, of the limbs on the duo is just bones, along with Deuce missing an eye and Ace missing part of his face, it’s a bit hard for them to go out without giving people a heart attack. So… They break into wherever you’re temporarily staying, which is typically an abandoned house, and accompany you in every location they possibly can. One very worrying thing they do, is stick their limbs in your bag. They won’t admit it but, it’s cause they miss you. You need to tell them sticking Ace’s eye in there to keep watch is NOT okay.

- Survival: Eating Humans

Cater Diamond [ Ghost…? ]

- Phasing, possession, invisibility, telepathy. Though you don’t see him use any of these capabilities very much. You wonder why but never go through with asking him, how could you when he looks so happy to be in your presence? At least, you think he’s happy. You can never tell if it’s genuine or not… His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes like everyone else…

- Whenever he decides to spend his time with you, his face is never close enough in view for you to decipher any real features of his. What color are his eyes? What does his nose look like? Is the diamond you remember on him even there? The basics of a face are in your memory, but you can never remember the more eunique traits of his. You… Don’t know why that is at all. It feels like you’re forgetting something from the first meeting you had with Cater, but your suspicions tell you it had something to do with his face.

- Even though he’s a ghost, it feels like he forgets something about that sometimes… It’s different from Riddle, who simply forgets he no longer has a physical body, it’s like he doesn’t remember he even died in the first place. You’ve seen him all alone, the sunny disposition he proposes to everyone is gone, a hollow feeling in his vicinity. You couldn’t hear it clearly, the only word heard at all being sisters.

- The moment he sees you it’s like he’s scrambling to change his disposition, walking up to you casually as he mentions how cute you look today, ahh you should take him shopping! He’ll be discreet don’t worry—

“Cater, how did you die?”

“Wha—? W-who cares about that, come on just take me to town kay’?” you do end up bringing him as he points at things he’ll never be able to use, commenting on how cute they would be to have and show off, even attempting to wrap his arm around your shoulder before laughing off at his arm phasing through your body and making your spine shiver.

You don’t miss the way his laugh is more forced than usual, and obvious distress at what happened. Why is he so upset he can’t touch you? Is there a reason he wants to so bad? For once, you wanna know.

“Cater, lets go on a date again.”

“I didn’t know you were so up-front…! But, if you’re asking then I just can’t say no can I?”

- Survival: Fear and Grievances, prays on victims through Possesion and death(?)

Trey Clover [ Frankenstein ]

- The sight of a giant, buff, green, adult man, hovering over you like a doting boyfriend as you bake is certainly a domestic sight to behold. Though it becomes less heartwarming when you remember this scientifically resurrected man is 8 feet tall, he can basically reach the top shelf when he’s kneeling.

- Just like the zombies of Heartslaybul, Trey can disassemble his limbs, but he has more control over it than the other two… You’ve had a fair share of moments where you’re trying to eat and a stitched up hand crawls towards you with a piece of cake., it’s sweet, but horrifying in the dark.

- He’s a glorified brick wall, if brick walls could also fight back at insane speeds. You watched him unintentionally scare off another Monster Hunter once, they weren't intimidated by his size at all, even attempting to throw a punch at him to show off. Their try immediately backfired as Trey stood unfazed, watching them run away cradling their hand. Before you can blink, Trey’s already towering over you asking if there was a pastry he should try making for you. Honestly… You need to tell Crowley to hire better employees.

- Trey has electrocuted you once. Totally unintentional on his part, but if someone asked him what he thought when he did it, he would tell them with a soft smile you look cute. Meanwhile, you’re on the other side of the room trying to make sure Trey doesn’t increase the voltage next time he tries holding you. Everytime he attempts to do just that, you’re quick to jump out the way. He’ll smile softly but he can’t deny he’s a little disheartened... Seems he’ll just have to rebuild that trust.

- Despite all the stitches on his body, unlike Riddle, there aren’t open wounds on his body, so he’s technically the only one who can accompany you without drawing too much attention. It’s a secret kept between the two of you, but whenever you head into the square, you both walk to as many bakeries as possible, tasting whatever you can afford. Whenever he put something in his mouth, he’d make an offhand comment about his family. You wonder… How did Trey even resurrect like this?

- Survival: Undocumented

Leona Kingscholar [ Beastman Mummy ]

- Warning: Capable of Magic.

- His skin is wrapped in so many bandages, all of them he can bend at his will. You’re curious as to what he looks like under the fabric, but one glare and the feeling of binds grappling around your body is enough for you to reconsider. That’s only if you attempt to look underneath, if not, he’ll sit in silence as you admire each carefully placed bind, cracking an eye open to watch you close in on him in curiosity.

- Watching him manipulate sand just to make places to sleep is entertaining, but being dragged into his timeframe of napping is surely not. The grip he has on you is ironclad as the two of you lay on the grainy bed, if you complain about sand getting into your clothes he’ll make a sly suggestion of “Just take off your clothes” before retreating into a slumber that you can’t shake him from. Even if you did decide to do that, how would you even take them off…? He won’t let go of you…!

- Despite being a former corpse, if he was still mortal, he’d essentially be an ultimate being. He’s super strong, fast, he’s quick at recovering, and even if you did cut off a limb of his he’d regrow in just half the time it took to get it off him. To make it worse he’s handsome, has an air of nonchalance, and a prince. You can just imagine the sound of Crewel and Rollo nagging at you for thinking such heinous things about a beast you’re meant to be killing.

- Whenever Leona controls the dead, you hide behind him. Not because you’re scared of his army, but because they remind you of Ace and Deuce, and you’d rather not see versions of themselves not heed danger whatsoever. You were half awake one time when he summoned corpses, your blurry eyes mistaking two of them for Deuce and Ace, wrapping your arms around their shoulders and pulling them into you. You only realize it’s not them when Leona grabs your from behind and hoists your body onto his shoulder like a sack.

“Wrong Zombies.” he makes an effort to have you sleep more before you accidentally kill yourself for such a small error.

- That little pain inducement ability he has? It sucks. It’s funny when he uses it to telepathically pinch Ruggie when he’s away. But, being reduced to a puddle of pure hurt and strain is the worst. Just watching Leona use it makes you remember… nevermind. Seeing his victims fall to their knees as he drains them of their life force is depressing, the burden of your defeat rearing its shame when he just knocks back and naps as their bodies turn to sand.

- Even when his tail wraps around your leg in a form of adoration, you can’t help but feel disdain for yourself remembering all those who are now dust on the ground because of him.

- Survival: Feeding off vitality

Ruggie Bucchi [ Werehyena ]

- Please tell Ruggie to stop tracking you with his senses and your stolen possessions, you’ve been scared too many times by him popping up out of nowhere. It’s even more horrifying in the night since his face looks so scary (His happy face looks the same as his hunting face. Don’t tell him though, he’ll rob you of your belongings in pettiness.)

- His eyes are so hypnotizing, both poetically and realistically. You’ve seen him mesmerize loving couples into handing over their belongings in his human form, only to revisit them later in the night to consume the rest of his steal. You asked him once what the point is in getting their stuff in the day only to kill them in the night, and he just smiles before softly placing a piece of bread on your lips.

You never take the bread from his hands, allowing him to feed you himself all the time, feeding you with the same hands stained with a bloody ending to a romance story. Maybe… it’ll get his pension for praying on lovers to soften, the thought of having his own might put his thoughts to bay… Who are you lying to that won’t happen, it’s how he lives, and how he will continue to live.

You know it won’t change when he’s desperately trying to hide the red stains under his nails.

- He’s very keen on being in your vicinity. No reason, you think, but he’s just always there, talking to you like normal. Which is weird, why does it feel so normal? The more you ponder it, maybe he’s more natural in your life cause of how equalized he is. He’s laidback yet cunning at the same time, not too good, but not too heinous (if you ignore his murders.) It’s a nice change of pace from people who see, to be heavily relent on one trait. Even though with a kinder personality feel weird… So, talking to Ruggie is a nice escape—

“Ruggie, did you take my wallet again?”

“How’d you think I paid for that bread? Shihihi�� Augh! Ow okay I'm sorry—!” he makes it up to you by giving you his portion of food. You pretend to take it out of pettiness, but late at night when he’s sleep, you wrap it up and leave it on his bedside for when he goes hungry in the night.

When he does wake up, he knows who left the meal by his side, including the extras that lay next to it.

- Survival: Eating anything he can get his hands on

Jack Howl [ Human…? ]

- You always wondered how Jack got so built. Of course, if it’s from training, you would never undermine his efforts. But, his strength is so hardcore you doubt it’s even humanly possible. There had been a speech from Crowley in town you attended with both Jack and Rollo, all three of you booted to the very back. When you commented on how you couldn’t see, Rollo told you “We could always move forward—” But he’s cut off with shock when he watches Jack effortlessly carry you onto his shoulder, keeping you rested there for an hour straight without complaint, even shifting the way he holds you depending on what you wanted at the moment.

“We could’ve just gone up there, Jack… Now put them down…!”

“I don’t mind, They seem comfortable here anyway.” You can’t help but laugh at Rollo's overbearing nature, patting his head as you hold onto Jack.

- Hes never answered you before on when or how he joined the hunting organization, literally. He’s so silent when you ask, but the moment you switch to a different topic he’s chiming in his opinion like he didn’t just give you the silent treatment for 15 minutes. He told you he’d never lie to you, so, you guess he was telling the truth about that statement.

- Whenever Rollo is unavailable to you, Jack essentially works as his “replacement” according to Sam. You wouldn’t call him that though, Jack cares for you the same way Rollo does, but he’s a lot less… Restricted towards you. You can go out at midnight with him as long as you let him walk you back home, You can eat more junk food, and you can even go into the forest with him outside of a job! Rollo is oblivious to it, but there are moments where you might, just a tinsy weensy bit, prefer having Jack watch over you compared to him. You still love Rollo though! (Never say that to him directly, he will dissect what kinda of love it is you’re implying for him.)

- Overall, you can’t wait to see him again when you go to Savanaclaw! You’re curious as to why he hasn’t reached back to you after the 2 months he's been there though…

Azul Ashengrotto [ Slime Kraken ]

- Warning: Capable of Magic.

- His true form is huge, being bigger than the size of 5 pirate ships combined. When he shrinks himself though, he’s only 7 feet long and huge, rather than 50 feet long and huge! Less scary right? (it’s not, you’re just trying to delude yourself.)

- It’s more dangerous when considering the substance he’s made out of is multi-purpose, making him invisible, essentially unkillable, and extremely capable in offense. You’ve seen it first hand considering you’ve been on the receiving end of his malice once. If you have to admit it though, it’s a lot scarier watching him use his skills on unknowing sailors. You collect what remains of them, and set them to rest far away from the sea.

- During the night, you’re divided on whether or not he can be considered horrifying, or beautiful. The twins glow, but they're limited to their one-color pallets. Azuls body, channels the light from his surroundings, making him more than one color sometimes. It’s a bit saddening when you notice how insecure he is about the material of his body, even using magic to appear more human-like in his state. If you tell him he’s handsome in his regular slime state, he’ll flush in embarrassment. (If you go a step further and hug him as such a gross substance, goodness, he’s already looking through books at the bottom of the ocean about human courting. Never mind you’re still trying to kill him, he’ll slay your heart if he has to!)

- If he uses Magic, he, can turn himself into a human for a little. He never really had a reason to go on land, he’s powerful in the sea, even ranked as one of the 7 most wanted monsters. But, now that you’re in his life, he wants to follow you and see what it would be like to live with you as a person. He doesn’t call it a date, but he thinks of it as one, even imagines himself telling Jade and Floyd (Little does he know they already beat him to the punch on that one…). You take him by the hand and the urge to stay on land with you becomes even stronger. But, so does the need to have you in the ocean with him.

- His tentacles along with his crazy strength, just make him an even harder foe to fight. Truly… What are you meant to do when you’re sitting down and in his sleep, he just clings onto you with a tentacle, and now you just, can’t leave? Besides he’s asleep, how are they latching onto you so hard… They don't have a mind of their own�� You remember seeing an article that wrote about such a phenomenon. Okay, so maybe they do act of their own volition… why do they cling so desperately to you?

- Survival: Eating as much of whatever is available

Jade Leech & Floyd Leech [ Skeleton Sea Serpents ]

- During your stay in their abode, you’d wake up to Floyd squeezing you so hard you swear one of the bones on his tail were gonna puncture you. He’s too strong, horrifically strong to the point you fear getting squeezed more than twice a day could genuinely kill you. If you don’t voice this concern, you might risk your death, but if you do, he’ll restrain himself a bit (he couldn’t bear the thought of killing his shrimpy! You’re too fun to play with, let him kiss those sore places better yeah? Besides, just a little biting doesn’t hurt)

- Their senses are so enhanced, it’s just as scary as their strength. You had sliced your hand once, a medium amount of blood pouring out, and before you could even do anything, Jade had swam up to you and latched onto your wrist, pulling you down, almost tugging you into the water, and began licking the wound clean, his eyes empty and his sharp teeth dragging across your skin. You thought he was miles away…?! How did he know you were bleeding…? When he’s done, he pats your hand and smiles before engaging in a casual conversation about your day, uncharacteristically gentlemanly after such a scary display. If you ask him what that was about, he’ll innocently tilt his head and ask you “whatever are you talking about?”

- Just like Azul, their true forms are giant, not as big as his, but still equally as terrifying, the sharp bones that poke out their body further proving this fact.

- Extremely Fast, You’ve seen this first hand when Floyd jumped out of the water and dragged you through the sea to transport you to a “beach date” in the middle of the ocean, in only 3 minutes…He heard of these dates from Azul, “Said he was gonna take you on one, thought it’d be funny if I took yah instead.” You’re unable to inquire what he means by “Azul trying to take you out”, as he’s brightly smiling when he places a sailor's cap on you. The small sight of blood in his canines is all you need to know about where this hat came from.

- Their teeth are sharp that’s for sure, you watched Jade sink his teeth into unsuspecting marine life. The thought of him doing the same to ships 7 times the size of such animals, makes you worried for future sailors, and… For yourself. He flaunts those ivories at you so much, you’re worried he’s trying to hint at his insatiable hunger. (He’s doesn’t bite like Floyd does, but honestly, you’d prefer if he bit you instead of grazing his teeth on your skin so sensually)

- They like to drag you into the water with them. You’re sure it’s how they have fun, the only exposure to the human world other than you is Azul and artifacts they collect from ships they were responsible for destroying. So of course, they wouldn’t know the first thing of human play, yet… you have the underlying feeling they have a reason for doing such a thing that isn’t just entertainment.

- Survival: Anything they can fit in their mouths (Whether it be marine life or ships. Though, these two have a specific craving for human)

Kalim Al-Asim [ Genie ]

- Extremely strong, every time he hugs you he completely forgets his strength. In the moments where he does realize it, he’s quick to apologize. If you tell him where you hurt, he’ll insist “kissing” it will make it better! It’s what worked on his siblings, so it must work for you! If you don’t tell him… he’ll cry, so it’s better to just tell him.

- Wishmaking. He insists on letting him give you a wish, after all, you did save him from being lonely! (You’re not sure if you could call it “saving” considering you were trying to kill him… and still are… ). You never accept his offer, with the knowledge that everything has a price, (Thank you Azul for such a good lesson learned) which makes him sad, but in your awkward ways of comfort, you tell him the only wish you want, is a hug. He is ecstatic and wraps his arms around you, tight. You’re regretting your wish now. Though, the glare from two pairs of slit eyes tells you you’re not the only one who doesn’t like the wish.

- Too many riches too count… You wake up, gifted in gold and jewels, you’re halfway through the day, more diamonds and rubies, going to sleep… Gold and emeralds. You told Kalim no more. He found a loophole and just replaced the cheaper items with more expensive ones. It’s technically not more so… You make a reminder to dump it all on Rollo, he’ll surely enjoy having money to tend to his garden. (He won’t. You already know he’ll refuse anything from a monster. But, if you bat your eyelashes enough he might accept it.)

“Kalim, I don’t need any more rubies.” You’re sat on his golden throne, the optimistic wish granter between your legs with his arms wrapped around your waist as he sits on the floor, a beaming smile making you hesitant on his next words.

“Then I’ll just give you more diamonds!” … Truly, you thought genies could only give out three wishes, why does it feel like this one wants to give you more than that… It’s gotten to the point where you think he wants only you to be the one he grants anything to, going so far as finding a way to bypass the rules. He even gave you his lamp, which you gave back to Jamil upon receiving it.

- You do wonder… Where are the rest of the people Kalims granted desires to? Even more so, the rest of the genies, as far as you’re concerned, Crowley said there was only one left (that he wanted to get his greedy hands on). If you had just searched Kalim and Jamils shared space, surely you would’ve found the corner filled with broken lamps in it.

Survival: Not sure, Either immortal or some secret to survival.

Jamil Viper [ Snake ]

- Warning: Capable of Magic.

- Half snake half man, his lithe body is enough to give you pause no matter how many times you see it, even after seeing the leeches who have a similar body. You think the reason might be more cause of his intimidating eyes rather than his actual body however, 2 sharp slits are enough to make anyone rethink their judgment.

- When he sleeps, he unknowingly wraps around you, his human half bunching you in his arms as if he isn’t squeezing your legs. You think it’s just his instincts using use as warmth considering he’s cold-blooded, so you let him (Little do you know he’s perfectly warm enough, his body is just drawn to you for some reason). When he wakes up, he considers poisoning himself from embarrassment.

- Venomus, the long pointed fangs could tell you that much. When he sheds a tooth after meeting you, he doesn’t toss it away like he used to, he finds a piece of string and slides it through the solid, letting you watch him in skepticism as he slithers towards you, gently placing the newly formed necklace in your palm as his forked tongue sticks out. (He also left a little venom trapped inside, in case anyone gets a little too close than wanted.)

- Don’t stare into his eyes to long, or else you’ll find yourself entranced by the slits in his pupils, and completely hypnotized without even his knowledge. It’s like he’s so enchanted by you that he forgets he can do something like that. When he realizes what he’s done, an hour goes by before you come to. You don’t feel any different, but one looks at your wrist adorned with a snake bracelet that wasn’t there before tells you something happened…

You can’t move it from its place, but you honestly don’t want to, it’s pretty. Works perfectly well in Jamil's favor, if you had, you definitely would’ve noticed the two holes punctured into your skin by a familiar set of fangs—

“Jamil, Kalim gave me his lamp again.”

“… Really?” He’s quick to take it off your hands. If only he could wish instead… it would make his life so much easier.

- Survival: Undocumented

Vil Schoenheit [ Incubus ]

- Warning: Capable of Magic.

- You’re human. You’re not immune to charm and flirtation. It’s disappointing that Vil is so good at what he does. You haven’t given into temptation, at least, not yet.

- Shapeshifting, he’s told you before if you have someone in mind you’d ever want to do such things with, he can transform into them if you hope to practice your confession, when you tell him nobody comes to mind, you fail to notice the devious smile that perches on his lips in victory. It seems the only face that will appear in your brain in such moments of vulnerability will be his, and that’s enough for him.

“Though, Since I used to see Neige almost every day maybe his? He has seen me in moments even Rollo hasn’t…”

What?

- Feasting on the vitality of humans is something commonly known for incubi, you’ve asked Vil before if you’re going to die soon from him touching you… You already know he’s an amazing actor so when he answers you, you can’t tell if he’s lying or if it’s the truth, especially when he takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips like a prince, perfectly playing off the suspicion in his answer.

- You think it’s unfair he’s so attractive, if he had only half his looks it would at least be easier to not stare at his pretty features— what are you thinking…?! You can already hear the scolding of everyone else telling you how heinous it is to think such thoughts, but once again, you're distracted by the feeling of Vil dipping into the couch next to you, offering a drink as if you two were just ordinary people. To be fair, his whole survival depends on how well he can interact with humans… He only smiles when you take the drink.

- Making Hallucinations is just common practice for Vil, Rook praising him for all the people who gave into his temptations from his feats. You were once sure he had never used it on you, you could never fall for such a puny delusion, but now, your confidence has faded. Things in your memory are blurry, unclear.

Has… Vil has been using it on you…?

- Survival: Corruption of humans through desire, feeding off vitality

Rook Hunt [ Boogeyman ]

- You make an extreme effort to avoid all manners of shadows since you’ve met him. Lurking in the dark is his forte, and it doesn't bode well for you because almost all your work is done in the dark. Even then… your efforts are in vain because you still feel the sensation of eyes burning into you at all times of the day. In these cases, you retreat to Vil in hopes he can rein him in a bit.

- Shapeshifting is a rare and dangerous ability. Unfortunately, Rook of all monsters has it. Even in places with no signs of shadows, it feels like he’s still there. It doesn’t make it any better that he hints towards that being the truth.

“Ah trickster, you looked magnifique in that bathing suit!”

“You were the waiter who kept offering me drinks weren’t you.”

“The way I observe my muse shall not be disclosed!”

- Watching Rook feast on fear isn’t scary, but rather… unsettling…? He places his mouth near his victim as what you can only assume to be their fear twists up into his throat, the horrified human trembling in terror. Such a scary expression quickly disappears when he turns to you with the happiest smile and gushes to the poor human about how wonderful you are, rubbing his cheek to yours like a sappy couple.

“Ah! Trickster…! You are quite sweaty! Shall I dry you off—” you shut him up by throwing the same towel he was about to clean you up with, in his face.

- His skill set is already horrifying, but adding in the basic ability of enhanced strength just makes it worse. You can’t even begin to count how many walls Rook has torn through for you… A simple ow, and what you originally thought to be a brick wall, is now a giant hole with the boogeyman at your call. It’s harder to be nice to him when he’s insistent that you train your capabilities on him. The amount of times Rook has turned a stab into a firm held waltz is just too many.

“Non non, You must hide your hand better trickster.”

“I would do that if you weren't cradling me into a dip right now Rook— Stop dancing with me already!”

- Survival: Fear and Grief

Epel Felimer [ Newbie Vampire ]

- He's asked you before if he could suck you dry. He honestly expected you to say no, but when you reached your arm out and told him to just not turn you, he was sure you must be some sort of blessing in disguise. When he’s done, he begs you not to tell Vil, as the incubus banned him from feeding. You’ll come to regret it at some point though, as now he continuously comes back to you in times of hunger.

- He runs at such fast speeds, it’s incredible to you, you’ve clapped for him a couple times, but, every-time you did… he got distracted and would trip. He wishes the sun would come up and kill him in those moments.

- Compulsion is a dangerous thing, you shouldn’t be shocked, but luckily for you, he… doesn’t seem to know how to use it the way it should be utilized. The moment he does finally master such an ability, you’ll have to find someway to get past that. He did try using it on you once, a simple command asking you to tell him how “manly” he is, somehow, someway, the command turned into something much more… embarrassing. He stands in bewilderment at the way your hands are cupping your face, endlessly praising Epel about how amazing he is, and how you wish to stay with him forever.

Vil and Rook stepped in to save you. He was sat in the corner as a punishment.

- His hunger is, insatiable. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen such a monster so bloodthirsty. It’s like he has some goal to just, feast on as many people as he can… He mistook you as a stranger he could freely feast on, jumping on you, ready to sink his fangs into your neck. He’s only narrowly stopped when the moon shines on your face and he knows it’s you. If it wasn’t, whoever took your place would not doubt be dead.

- Survival: Blood

Idia Shroud [ Reaper ]

- Warning: Capable of Magic.

- With how moody Idia is, you forget what his occupation is until he shows up at your door with the scythe he uses to escort the dead.

- Reapers aren’t necessarily evil or good, which is why you’re always conflicted about how to feel about Idia. Should you… Make your decisions based off his personality rather than what he is to slay him—? Why is he whispering about how all the other monsters should drop dead— Ah, he thinks they’re cooler than him.

- You essentially work as a discounted vent session as Idia talks about how everyone else is so much worthier than him to be slain by hunters. They all have cool abilities and cool looks, what is he stuck with? An edgy cloak and a tool farmers use to cut hay—

- His rant is cut short at the sound of a cheap board game slamming on the table, his eyes looking up to you placing a game piece on the spot, signaling him to take his turn as you tell him how he’s “the only one you find playing games with fun”. Truly, you must be one of the kindest souls he’s had the fortune of meeting, he should know, half of the spirits he escorts are huge douches.

- It just makes him all the more worried about bringing you to the after life.

- Even though Idia doesn’t have a reason to actively hurt humans, it’s still worrying when he describes to you in detail of his After life Capabilities. He once told you a story about how a guy was acting so high and mighty he trapped him in the space between life and death, only coming back to laugh at him when the man was practically broken. He only stops his retelling when he looks up and sees the most hurt expression on your face.

- After that, he sits up before you can even say anything, leaving immediately as he buries his head in his hands. The next day, he’s at your door as you silently stare at him, his form of retribution for your hurt being whatever you mentioned wanting during the week. You accept his gift, but that still doesn’t stop the fear of what Idia does to the souls he guides with a lack of fondness.

- Survival: Unable to Die. (Speculation)

Malleus Draconia [Dragon Gargoyle… And… something else?]

- Warning: Capable of Magic.

- Heavy durability, as he is pure stone. in times of desperation, you watch as green sparkles fly around the man as stone turns soft. His spell doesn’t last long but in his desire he chooses to pepper you in kisses with smooth lips. The first time he attempted to romantically place a peck on your arm, you cringed at the feeling of rough stone on your skin. It hurt his feelings so he opted to just spell himself instead.

- Heavy. He didn’t wanna move away from a doorway you had to exit through to leave. You tried lifting him out of the way, you don’t think you’ve ever tried so hard to move something before. He thought it was an attempt at a hug, so you ended up being smooshed in his arms for an hour before Lilia saved you.

- Camaflouge, the stone he’s made of, and moss that grows on his body can be manipulated in any way he wishes, even his size, it’s scary watching him go from his regular 6 feet to an astonishing 10. This trait of his has served numerous moments where you’re surveying his castle only to feel arms pulling you back into a stone exterior. Your reflexes are swift to throw a punch, only to have the cruel reminder of rock busting your hand.

“Ah forgive me, I did not mean to hurt you Child of hunters”

“My hand is broken Malleus.”

“We can just get you a new hand can we not?” That night serves as the first of having to tell Malleus he can’t always spell you when you’re injured. To this, he tells you that’s nonsense and he’ll expend all his reserves for you.

- Considering he’s also a Dragon, flight, and fire breathing really shouldn’t surprise you. What does surprise you is when he looked more dragon than gargoyle sometimes, his eyes becoming more lively, scales being more obvious, and his wings and horn being truer than they’ve ever been. You have a sneaking suspicion his instincts change forms too, his already heavy clinginess increasing tenfold. You’re either held by his clawed fingers or wrapped in his wing.

- Despite Malleus being marked as one of the most dangerous kills possible, you find it extremely easy to… ask him to do something. In fits of anger, he’ll cling impossibly close to you, trying desperately to attempt to cease the ugly feeling festering inside him. He’ll tell you he never wants you to leave his side. If you’re not feeling like being trapped inside, all you need to do is wrap your arms around his neck and lean into his ear with a low whisper, asking him to let you go. For a moment, his grip will tighten, but slowly he relents, his stone eyes watching you wave goodbye.

- Though, truthfully, You don’t feel like you’re free… Sometimes, you notice gargoyles in places where there shouldn’t be any. Sooner or later, his resolve might break, asking him for such freedoms might not be as easy.

- Not only that but… There’s definitely a side to him that isn’t just some Dragon Gargoyle. Whenever you have the chance to dig deeper into it, you’re met with a wall that separates you from the truth. Just what is Malleus?

- Survival: ???, Unable to Die. Do not attempt.

Lilia Vanrouge [ ??? ]

- Caution: Possibly capable of Magic.

- Certainly the most mysterious of the bunch… To be fair, everyone in the Diasmonia space is filled with anonymity. He doesn’t have any specific qualities that warrant a decisive conclusion, but you’re confident that he’s not a human. Sometimes he has wings, sometimes fangs, sometimes spider legs, just what is he?! (He has used this capability to scare you on numerous occasions, taking the form of a giant wasp and chasing you once. When he gets bored though, he clings onto you endlessly, not as bad as Malleus but still very often. You woke up to him in your bed once, and now he occasionally appears there to “wake you up” by sliding his arms around your waist. Please tell him you’ll only let him do this if he stops turning into freaky stuff…)

- You have no doubt he’s one of the monsters that eat humans. You took a sniff of his red juice once, it’s definitely blood, and considering why you’re here, it’s for sure not animal blood. Out of guilt for failing whatever human is his current meal, you offered up yourself as a blood bag, and he happily indulged, pining you to the table and nipping that delicious spot on your neck. Out of courtesy for everyone else in the castle... You lock the door.

But it doesn’t matter, you’re quite sure he didn’t honor the agreement anyway, as he’s happily feasting on a mystery meat you know isn’t any creature near this castle.

- He always keeps you on your toes, one of the moments being when he used his flight to carry you all over the sky, laughing at you and your body clinging onto him in fear of dropping to your death. It makes it worse that he doesn’t do it slow, he flies so fast you can hear the wind slicing through the air, your arms only wrapping around his neck trying to get even closer than you already are.

“Lilia…! Lilia! Put us down—! I’m gonna die…!” you can feel his hand pat your head as he tightens his grip on your body.

“Aww…don’t worry, as long as I’m here you won’t fall!” you believe him, but that doesn’t make you feel any safer at all…

- Despite how decrepit the Diasmonia castle is, there are still photos of its rein on the wall. In an attempt to know your targets better, you look at some of them, immediately recognizing Lilia in one of the frames… But, his aura seemed different, more cold, more cruel… He was bloodied, and you’re sure that body he’s holding is what you think it is, but, he doesn't have that usual crazy happy look he has when he catches his next meal.

-Just how did Lilia end up like this?

- Survival: Undocumented

Sebek Zigvolt [ Swamp Monster ]

- He says you’re pathetic. (He continues to leave flowers specific from his swamp at your door) You’re not… You’re not very sure what he thinks of you…? He says you’re a coward, yet continues to gift you plants after you offhandedly mentioned how you think they’re pretty. So… What does that mean…?

- Maybe they’re poisonous… Heh… Maybe you can use them on Crowley—

- Your plan of attack is interrupted as a booming voice bursts your ear drums, the source of distress being the green being covered in moss, water, and vines. You follow the trail of plants leading from the swamp to the creature behind you, a bear, wrapped in controlled swamp foliage by the monster of the water. Sebek huffs and chastises you for such carelessness, but the feeling of you scooping his hands into yours and thanking him with a smile makes the words on his tongue go numb. Not for too long though, as he tells you obviously a beast like him can handle such lowly creatures, no wonder you didn’t notice.

- Before you came along, according to Silver, the water he resides in used to be a mess, as he said “Lilia believes it to fit my role of Swamp Monster, so I shall keep it!” so he kept it the way it is and let it out control. But, apparently, after you, it subtly became neater, flowers adorning the ridges of where once was messed moss, his water adorned with petals of your favorite color, the place even smelling like your favorite scent. He tells you it’s just a change of scenery for Malleus, not anyone else, you only smile at him, not replying. Malleus doesn’t have the same favorite scent.

- Like his fondness for nature, his power of water is equally as tantalizing to watch. He didn’t know you were there, but you were watching him train, your eyes becoming more entranced in his movements when you saw him become sidetracked from his patience for a moment. A book was laid in front of him, one that he delved deeper and deeper into with interest. It seems he has a fondness for literature, so after that, you would leave books you had at his residence, watching with amusement at how fascinated he was. Unfortunately, you walked up to him once when he was meant to be training, and in attempt to hide his hobby, he flicked his hands and let the water swallow every page in aqua.

“I have been training this whole time human…!”

“Ah, I got you all those. Now they’re wet…” He acts like he doesn’t care, but he secretly feels bad, so discreetly, he attempts to piece every page lost in the water together before presenting you with a new book.

- Survival: Swamp

Silver [ ??? ]

- Honestly, his abilities are lighthearted when not used to a heavy extent. He can eat dreams of those who sleep, typically, nightmares. There have been rumors spreading of a night creature who creeps into rooms, sucking the ambitions and hopes of its victims… They’re not wrong, if he’s called upon too often he’ll strip the person of all their wants and, dreams. Go a step further, and he might as well suck the life out of a human.

- But… You know he doesn’t mean to… At least you hope not.

- Sometimes your judgment feels misplaced when you watch him go overboard in his hunger, his trance only capable of being broken when you grab him by the shoulder, maybe even point a blade at him in desperation.

- He can travel into dreams. You’ve caught him lurking in your conscious one too many times to count. It’s not like he’s devouring your fantasy, but you can’t help and wonder why he’s almost always there. He doesn’t change what’s happening in it, he doesn’t destroy it so… Why is he there so often?

- it’s ironic, a creature who lives off the manifestation of people’s conscious, sleeps so much. You remember sorting through flowers Sebek had “gifted” you, (You’re not sure if it counts as gifted considering he threw them at you saying “they’re frail, just like a weak human.”) and Silver had sat right next to you, begining a sentence before dropping his head into your lap, a deep slumber commencing on your thighs.

- He wakes up ready to apologize, but the feeling of your hands gently playing with his hair, is enough for him to fall back asleep immediately.

- He’s a lot more welcoming to stay with compared to the rest of the monstrous residents of Diasmonia. If you’re free from Malleus and Lilias's grasp, you’re quick to run over to him. He’s typically sleeping, so, when he’s nodding off you sit down next to him, slowly placing your head on his shoulder as you fall asleep. If you’re to be trapped here for a bit, it wouldn't hurt to have some form of comfort in this run-down place.

As you fall into slumber, you secretly wish to meet Silver in a dream again.

It’s coincidental that he wakes up the moment you place your head on him, it’s a pretty sight to him. He hopes… you’ll stay here, he enjoys your company too much. As soft snores leave you, his hands move on their own, grasping onto your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours.

It’s selfish, he was raised to do what he must to survive as a monster by his father. So he knows, what he feels is natural, but there’s a lingering thought he shouldn’t feel this heavy about a human… He doesn’t wanna let you go.

- Survival: Dream Feasting

Neige Leblanche [ Angel ]

- It’s… a bit unnerving how kind he is… You understand he’s a supposed Guardian Angel specially dedicated to your well but goodness, he was not very good at his job.

- He essentially watches you go about your day, occasionally blessing you to see your eyes light up with happiness.

- Despite how much he grooms the feathers on his back, he never lets you get too close to them, folding them back up when you’re near enough to see them more intricately or graze your fingers on them. It never bothered you, truly, he’s so nice to to you you could never be suspicious of him.

- He had to attend to personal matters once when you were eating together, his wings fluttering before he ascended. A pair of feathers had fallen in place of where he once was, One plumage was as white as snow, and the other…

- Was as dark as ebony.

- Survival: Being Good

Rollo Flamme [ Human ]

- He’s always been by your side.

- He would never be one of those wretched filthy beasts. He’s always cared for you when you couldn’t care for yourself.

- Don’t look at him like that. Why… Why is there scorn in your eyes…? He’d never hurt you, never.

- You’re the only sanctuary of purity in his life, he wants to embrace you. He always has, your happiness has always been his.

- He has always wanted to save you from the hellish life mother nature had dealt you.

So please…

- Let him hug the one thing he cares for one more time. And…

Forget the white lie he gave you.

- Survival: You

The day is today. The date you left Rollo without saying even the slightest hint of a farewell. It has been 364 days, without you.

It’s a sorrowing sight for coworkers of his who know how close you are. But, if they had just looked closer, the looming feeling of festering jealousy would no doubt impede their senses.

Rollo knows he can feel it. He will find a way to drag whatever wretched beasts are ruining you with their filth, down to hell.

“Ah! Mr.Flamme, Hello Hello—!” ringed fingers slam mercilessly into the wood of a desk, any harder and he might’ve broken it. “Be careful…! This desk is expensive…!”

“It’s been a year since [Name] left for these jobs… Why aren’t they back?” Rollos on the verge of bursting a vein, the only composure he has left is strung together by the thin thread of hope he has of you coming back, coming back to him.

“Well, My little Birdie is—”

“There is no My, and there is no Birdie, don’t call them that.”

“Possesive much…”

“It’s not posseviness.” Crowley only nods at him, obviously, he doesn’t believe the man, but he’ll pretend if it means moving this conversation along.

“I will answer your question in due time, now would you please… remind yourself why it is you’re here in the first place?”

———

A/n Did I do a shit ton of research about monsters and their abilities for this, a post that was meant to be a shitpost? No, who would do that? (I would). Anyways, I hope this can satisfy Monster!Twst enjoyers while I work on the heartslaybul chapter, I promise I’m working on it to make it the best possible! (Blame the economy for my lack of activity on it)

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yeonives · 3 months ago

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📁 SHH SECRET RELATIONSHIP - PSH

엔하이픈 성훈 ୨୧ f ! r ・ 13OO fluff, oneshot 1cw ・kisses, petnames >o< feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated and encouraged! ── archive あり

YOU NEVER THOUGHT YOU'D FIND YOURSELF IN THIS SITUATION, let alone with someone like sunghoon. after all, he was your sworn enemy—or so everyone thought. in public, the two of you couldn’t stand each other. insults flew, glares were exchanged, and everyone knew you were at war. but behind closed doors, it was a different story.

you sneak into the empty classroom, the one that’s always deserted after hours. your heart races as you check the hallway, making sure no one followed you. it’s risky, but the thrill is half the fun.

“you're late,” a familiar voice drawls from the shadows, and you turn to see sunghoon leaning against a desk, his arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips.

“and you're as annoying as ever,” you retort, but your tone lacks any real bite.

he steps closer, and suddenly, you forget how to breathe. it’s ridiculous how easily he can do that to you. he cups your face with his hands, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone who spent the whole day throwing snide remarks your way.

“i missed you,” he murmurs, his eyes softening as they meet yours.

“missed you too,” you whisper back, the confession barely audible, but you know he hears it. he always does.

the world outside that room fades away as he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, sweet kiss. it’s slow, unhurried, as if you have all the time in the world. in these moments, it’s hard to remember why you’re supposed to hate him.

he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “why do we even bother pretending we don’t like each other?” he asks, his voice tinged with amusement.

you sigh, threading your fingers through his hair. “because it’s fun,” you reply with a grin. “and because if people knew, they’d never let us live it down.”

he laughs, and it’s a sound you’ve grown to love. it’s rare to hear him laugh so freely, without the walls he puts up around everyone else. you’re glad you get to be the one to see this side of him.

“you’re impossible, you know that?” he teases, pressing a quick kiss to your nose.

“takes one to know one,” you shoot back, sticking your tongue out at him playfully.

his eyes sparkle with mischief as he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. “you’re lucky you’re cute,” he murmurs against your lips before kissing you again, this time deeper, more passionate.

your hands find their way to the collar of his shirt, tugging him closer as you lose yourself in the kiss. every touch, every caress, feels like a secret only the two of you share.

“we should get going,” you say reluctantly when you finally pull away, reality creeping back in. “someone’s bound to notice if we’re gone too long.”

sunghoon groans, resting his chin on top of your head. “yeah, yeah, but can’t we stay just a little longer?”

you chuckle, giving him one last peck on the lips before stepping out of his embrace. “later,” you promise, reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze. “meet me here tomorrow?”

he grins, that familiar cocky smile that makes your heart skip a beat. “wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

with one last glance, you slip out of the classroom, already missing his warmth. as you walk down the hallway, you prepare to slip back into your role, ready for the glares and the insults.

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saetoru · 1 year ago

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。TANGLED — GETO SUGURU.

contents. just suguru needing his hair brushed for him bc he’s def so me and gets mad over the knots lol—alternative title: princess suguru and his frog <3

suguru huffs in front of your mirror—and it’s quite the frustrated huff, too—before he slams the hair brush down.

you raise a brow, “you okay over there?”

“no. ‘s knotted,” he mutters, referring to his hair. there’s a quiet grumbling of something unintelligible under his breath before he glares at himself in the mirror.

suguru loves his hair—anyone would know that just by looking at him. most guys use two-in-one shampoo (like satoru) but suguru? he practically hogs your shower space with all of the products he owns. his hair is well maintained and perfectly neat every time you see him. but sometimes, like now, it’s also a pain to brush once it’s knotted. and, well, he doesn’t handle it very well.

“you’ve been brushing for—” you pretend to check your bare wrist for the time, “—like ten minutes,” you giggle.

“very funny,” he grunts bitterly. and then, more petulantly this time, “i’m cutting it off for real this time.”

“you said that last time,” you remind him, eyes glinting with amusement.

“this time i mean it.”

“no you don’t, sugu.”

“i do,” he insists, glaring at you through the mirror, “it’s getting too long, and i don’t have the time to brush all these damn knots every two hours. so, it’s getting cut.”

“okay,” you nod casually—anyone can tell you don’t believe him.

his expression sours. suguru gets in very bad moods when his hair doesn’t cooperate, it’s evident in the way he flares his nostrils and scowls.

“you still don’t believe me? i’m being serious.”

“okay, baby,” you snort, finally deciding to take matters into your own hands as you rise from your bed and walk over. you stand behind him, reaching around him for the hair brush before gently pulling him back to stand closer. “i’ll get it for you, don’t worry. wouldn’t want your princess hair gone.”

“stop calling it that,” he groans, but the tension leaves his shoulders as soon as you gently brush through his strands, starting at the bottom and working your way up. it’s quiet for a bit—nothing but the soft sound of your humming as you work through the tangles in his long (perfect) hair.

“you could’ve just asked if you wanted me to brush it,” you tease after a few moments, “no need to throw a tantrum.”

“glad to see you’re enjoying this,” he rolls his eyes. and then, when you’ve finished and set the brush down, he turns to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist as his face finds the crook of your neck.

you hum, pecking the side of his head before threading your fingers into his dark locks, stroking through the soft strands and silently marveling at the length.

“you’re so pretty, suguru,” you murmur, “did’ya know that?”

“oh yeah?” he chuckles into your skin, lips curling into a loose smile. his arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly closer.

“yeah,” you nod, “like a princess. my prettiest princess.”

“i thought i told you to quit with that,” he says exasperatedly—you can feel the heat from his cheeks, and you grin to yourself knowing he’s blushing as he hides his face deeper into your shoulder.

“it’s true,” you insist, “i’m no liar. i’m a truther.”

“debatable,” he mumbles. you smack his shoulder playfully, and he squeezes your hips in response. “aren’t you going to tie it for me too?” he finally asks, and you’re sure there’s a pout curled on those lips of his. you ache to kiss them—and you will, just not right now.

right now, you’ll stay like this a bit longer.

“this is real princess treatment,” you sigh dramatically, “yes your highness. i’ll tie it too.”

“thank you,” he says, thoroughly satisfied. and then, quieter, like it’s a secret only you’re supposed to know, “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you happily murmur, “but that might change if you cut your hair.”

“are you only dating me for my hair?”

“yes,” you snicker playfully, “it’s the main appeal. the princess appeal.”

“you know what,” suguru says thoughtfully, “i’ll be your princess.”

“really?” you gasp in excitement, making him nod into your neck as he presses a delicate kiss to your skin.

“sure,” he grins slyly, “and you can be the frog.”

the moment is officially ruined—and for a second, you think you might just have to cut his hair off in his sleep after that one.

come join me in the most self indulgent drabble once again. also the title being tangled even tho the reference is the princess and the frog is a tad bit funny to me jdjsjd i did giggle i can’t lie

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#geto x reader #geto x y/n #geto x you #geto fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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targaryen-dynasty · 6 months ago

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NOCTURNAL WORSHIP.

Daemon Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MDNI; dub/non-con, somnophilia, canon typical incest/targcest (uncle/niece), p in v, fingering, possessive and dark (or rather canon) Daemon

WORDS: 1.2 K

NOTES: Something older I had posted with another blog.

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

A deep slumber has overtaken you after a day full of lessons in the tongue of your ancestors, and an hours long flight on the back of your precious mount. Deep enough that not even the creaking door leading to one of the secret passageways of Maegor‘s Holdfast is able to get you to stir awake.

Not quite so stealthy as one might know him, the man they dub the Rogue Prince steps into your chambers, his heart beating fast with the blood pumping straight down to his cock upon spotting you laying on your side, sound asleep despite his intrusion.

It’s almost ridiculous how hard his cock gets the closer he stalks towards your canopy bed, straining uncomfortably against the laces in the front of his breeches. “Ñuha dōna lēkianna,“ he drawls with a strain to his voice, the predatory gaze of his lilac eyes taking in your sleeping frame. My sweet niece.

A devilish smirk that’s usually only reserved to the people that dare to challenge him is draped across his lips, growing as he slowly peels the Quartheen silk sheets off your body. Only a fool would miss the fact that you’re not wearing any undergarments beneath the rather flimsy, creamish nightgown you wear, clearly indicating that you have listened to your uncle prior to your departure to your quarters.

‘Expect me at the Hour of the Owl, sweet girl,’ he had said to you as your lesson ended. ‘And I shall teach you what is expected of you on your wedding night.’ And the sheepish nod and the blush on your cheeks let him know you truly endorsed it.

Daemon sits down on the bed next to you and brushes his fingers over your skin, starting at your knee to push the nightgown up and reveal your bare cunt, glistening with your arousal for the long-awaited. His deft fingers drag through your folds, circling your sensitive pearl.

A quiet sound slips past your slightly parted lips, resembling something between a moan and a whimper, and in your sleepy state he finds you snuggling against him to inhale his comforting scent, your hand resting on his stomach and your face buried in his side.

His fingers toy with your pearl briefly before he gently nudges you over to lie on your back, parting your legs to grant him better access to what lies between them. Ghosting the tips of his fingers along your navel, he trails them down again to ease them inside your cunt, pushing in and out to prepare your maiden core for him.

The thread of restraint he’s held before grows thinner and thinner with your walls starting to clench steadily around his digits, practically sucking them in and begging for more. And when he feels your small hand fisting his tunic, pulling him closer with your hips rutting meekly against his hand? That’s the moment it snaps.

Withdrawing his fingers from your cunt, he brings them up to his lips, sucking them clean of your essence. Any rational thought is quit with the taste of your arousal spreading over his tongue, making him long for more.

He climbs between your legs, sitting back on his haunches as he undoes his breeches and frees his cock from its confines. There’s not a second wasted by him, burying himself inside of you with such urgency in one, swift thrust.

All efforts not to wake you up are fruitless as he increases the pace of his thrusts, snapping his hips in and out of you over and over again, not able to hold back any longer.

The hazy glimmer in your eyes as you blink up at him indicates that you have a hard time processing what is happening, although your body perfectly knows with quiet moans and whimpers toppling past your parted lips.

“K… Kepus?” you mumble, having trouble speaking with the burning of your cunt struggling to accommodate his size clouding your thoughts. You blink once, twice, to allow your eyes to adjust to the dim light the moon casts through your chambers windows.

Daemon doesn’t stop his ministrations, if anything, your dazed reaction only manages to spur him on, feeding the fire that courses through his veins. He dips down, pressing his chest flush to yours and putting his weight onto you, caging you in between his arms with no way to escape.

Your uncle rests his forehead against yours, stopping his movements briefly. “I told you I would come, didn't I?”

Biting your bottom lip, you momentarily close your eyes at the proximity. Opening them again, you nod your head and stare up at him with a wide, innocent gaze. “Y… Yes.”

“And you want to learn from me, do you not?” It isn’t a question, more a coercion for you to give him what he wants. “About the… wifely duties you must perform for your future husband.”

You nod again, speaking in feigned confidence, “yes.”

His words are very much that of truth. More than once have you thought about him in ways that are not proper for the youngest daughter of the King, especially after your older sister has told you about the little foray she and your uncle went on that ended in one of the brothels of the city.

Daemon starts to grind his hips against yours, causing the pressure inside of you to become more and more notable — until your peak catches you in an ambush.

Your body acts on its own as you arch your back against his sturdy frame, parting your legs just a bit more to willingly rut your hips in rhythm with his, chasing the pleasure.

Not one coherent thought runs through your head as your body works itself through the several emotions and trembles that soar through you, suddenly not so tired anymore.

You‘re not so sure what to expect as he proclaims his desire to spill inside of you, yet you eagerly accept, damned be the repercussions, and bite through the overstimulation to chase the addictive feeling of his throbbing cock.

Tipping his head back, your uncle releases a groan so raspy the bump in his throat twitches, the sight causing a renewed wave of your arousal to drip down his shaft, forming a creamy ring around the base.

Only once the thrusting of his hips ceases, you‘re able to feel the flimsy pulsating of his cock, spending itself inside of you.

“That’s it–” His words catch in his throat as his head topples forwards.

Meeting your gaze, he gets so lost in the blissed out expression on your face that he knows there is no going back now — not when he just got a taste of you, his darling niece.

He presses a kiss to your temple as he pulls out, the uncomfortable feeling of loss causing you both to grimace. Climbing off the bed to readjust his trousers, he can‘t seem to take his eyes off of you.

“I expect you, tomorrow night, to come to my chambers,” he states bluntly and nonchalantly, walking towards the door he came through before. “Your husband will not be gentle on the first night of your marriage, lēkianna, and I think it is only fair that I teach you a few more things. So when the time comes, you‘re well prepared.”

With these words, he closes the secret door behind him, leaving you all by yourself. Where you have been in a very deep slumber before, you struggle to fall back asleep again, mind plagued by what tomorrow will bring for you.

Daemon Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @schniiipsel @avalyaaa @baizzhu @yn-jackson

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rafecameronssl4t · 1 month ago

Note

Ok, question, fem! forced marriage au - how would Rafe react/feel if she brought up ANYTHING about separating, weather that’s flat out divorce or doing it in secret - happy to the public but living in diff spaces/diff lives/maybe even having affairs(?)

Tied bonds || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: don't mind me going off slightly in the beginning when its talking about the legality side of it, i was literally studying trusts and estates law a couple days ago lol

Warnings: angst galore!

Word count: 2,801

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The heavy oak doors of the estate’s study shut behind you with a quiet but resolute thud, isolating you from the rest of the world. The room, with its high ceilings and ornate furnishings, exudes both the security and suffocation of wealth. The scent of polished mahogany and aged leather permeates the air, a sensory reminder of the legacy you're bound to uphold and the responsibilities weighing on your shoulders.

The dim light from the tall windows casts long shadows across the room, making it feel as though the walls themselves are closing in, urging you to act before time runs out. You sit across from your lawyer at the broad mahogany desk. He’s a man in his 50s, with silver-threaded hair and sharp, calculating eyes. His demeanour exudes quiet authority, the kind of calm that comes from handling the complex finances of wealthy families like yours for decades.

A briefcase sits open beside him, documents meticulously laid out in front of you. These aren’t just numbers and figures on a page—they represent your children’s future, your security, and the small corner of independence you’re desperately trying to carve out for yourself. “Now, given the scale of your family’s assets,” your lawyer begins, his voice smooth and professional, “it’s prudent to separate certain accounts. Some in your name, some under irrevocable trusts for the children. This will not only shield them from potential claims but also provide financial protection in the event of....unforeseen circumstances—marital or otherwise.”

You glance down at the papers, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension. This was necessary, you remind yourself. You need some semblance of independence, some safeguard for your children. With Rafe’s unpredictable behaviour and the constant pressure from both families, you can’t afford to let everything slip from your control. Your lawyer pulls out another document, sliding it across the desk.

“We’re talking about setting up separate trusts for each of your children. These funds will be distributed to them upon reaching a certain age—18 or 21, depending on your preference. In the meantime, control of the trust can be vested in you alone, ensuring that no one else has access to or influence over these assets, including your husband.”

“And what about Rafe’s side of the family?” you ask, your voice quieter than you intended. “Would they have any legal claim?” The lawyer shakes his head firmly. “No. Not if everything is properly structured. The trusts would be irrevocable, meaning no one—not even your husband—could alter them once established. His family would have no legal right to interfere, regardless of any financial entanglements between the two of you.”

You take a breath, the enormity of it all settling in. This is exactly what you wanted—an impenetrable safeguard. A plan that ensures your children’s future remains under your control, untouched by the unpredictable tides of Rafe’s influence or the demands of your family. “Thank you,” you respond softly, your fingers tracing the edge of the document, the weight of your decision pressing heavily on your chest. “I want everything arranged quietly,” you say softly, your voice carrying the weight of your decision.

“No one else needs to know about this… especially my husband.” The lawyer gives a small, understanding nod. “Discretion is key, as always.” You sign where indicated, feeling a mixture of relief and unease as you watch your name inked onto the page. This is the right thing to do, you remind yourself. For your children, for their future. Yet as you rise from the desk and collect your things, a sense of foreboding lingers.

The heavy oak doors creak open as you step out, and the estate feels impossibly vast around you. Despite the careful planning, you can’t shake the feeling that keeping this from Rafe will lead to complications far greater than you anticipate. With every step you take, the sinking feeling grows. You only hope Rafe doesn’t find out before you’re ready to tell him.

The moment you step through the front door of your home, the tension in the air is palpable. You pause, your coat still in hand, as your eyes land on Rafe. He’s leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, an almost relaxed posture, but the intensity in his gaze betrays any notion of calm. His sharp blue eyes follow your every move, calculating, probing.

"You have a nice little meeting today?" His voice is cold, deceptively casual. But you can hear the edge in it—the suspicion lurking beneath the surface. Your heart skips a beat, anxiety pooling in your chest. Of course, he knows. Rafe always knows. You hang your coat on the rack, avoiding his gaze, trying to maintain some semblance of calm. "I had a few things to take care of. Where are the children?"

You answer nonchalantly, hoping to steer the conversation away from any confrontation. "With Astoria, they wanted to play with their cousins," Rafe answers, his gaze sharp as he pushes off the doorframe, taking a slow, deliberate step toward you, his presence overwhelming as always. "Answer my question," His tone hardens, suspicion fully creeping into his voice now. "I know you met with your lawyer. What are you up to?"

Your pulse quickens as you hold Rafe’s gaze, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. He’s already jumping to conclusions, constructing a narrative that fits his fears. You knew this confrontation was inevitable, but the reality of it still unsettles you, the tension in the room thick and suffocating. "It’s nothing that concerns you," you respond, keeping your tone as even as possible, despite the way your nerves fray under his scrutiny. "Just some family matters."

Rafe scoffs, the sound harsh and filled with disbelief. His jaw clenches as he steps even closer, his towering figure casting a shadow over you, blocking any hope of retreat. His presence is overbearing, the heat of his anger palpable in the air between you. "Family matters?" His voice is dripping with accusation, dark and biting. "Don’t play games with me. I heard enough to know this wasn’t just about your parents or your siblings."

His words cut deeper as his tone drops, low and dangerous. "You’re setting up trust funds. Inheritance management. Without telling me. What the hell are you planning?" His words slam into you, twisting your stomach in knots. His paranoia, the sharpness of his accusations, stings in a way you hadn’t fully prepared for. Of course, you knew he’d react like this, but hearing it out loud—his anger, his distrust—it’s worse than you imagined. You steady your breath, trying to keep your composure.

"It’s for the children, Rafe," you say, your voice soft but firm, though the tightness in your chest makes it difficult to breathe. "I want to make sure they’re taken care of, no matter what happens. That’s all this is." But even as you say it, you can see the suspicion lingering in his eyes, the doubt still gnawing at him, twisting this simple act of protection into something more sinister in his mind.

Rafe glares at you, his eyes dark and intense as they search your face for the slightest hint of deception. His presence feels overwhelming as he steps even closer, the space between you disappearing in an instant. Without breaking eye contact, his hand moves down deliberately, resting on the swell of your belly where your third child grows. His touch, firm and possessive, sends a chill through you.

"You don’t trust me with that?" His voice is low, almost a growl, laced with an edge of disbelief and wounded pride. "You think I wouldn’t look out for my own kids?" His words sting, but it's the subtle accusation in his tone that cuts deeper, as if he can’t comprehend why you would feel the need to act independently. Your frustration bubbles to the surface despite your best efforts to remain calm, your emotions swirling between anger and exhaustion.

"That’s not what this is about," you snap, your voice sharp as the tension between you flares. You're trying to hold it together, but the weight of his misunderstanding—of him always assuming the worst—pushes you to the brink. "I’m doing this to protect them. To protect us. You can’t control everything, Rafe." For a split second, something flickers in his eyes—hurt, maybe—but it vanishes quickly, replaced by his usual defensiveness. He steps closer, his voice lowering, cold and accusatory.

"You’re doing all of this behind my back," he growls. "And I’m supposed to believe it’s just for the kids? You don’t set up secret meetings with lawyers for something as simple as trust funds. It looks more like you’re preparing for something else. Like maybe you’re planning to escape this all." His breath is hot against your ear now, the venom in his words unmistakable. "Is that it? Are you getting ready to leave me?"

His accusation hits you hard, knocking the air from your lungs. The vulnerability behind it cuts deeper than you expected. It’s not just anger simmering in his voice—there’s fear too, buried beneath the suspicion, fear of losing control, of you slipping away. His jaw tightens, but his hand remains firmly pressed against the swell of your stomach, as if anchoring himself to you, to the life you’re carrying.

“And have our children without their father?” you ask, your voice sharp. There’s a flicker of something more beneath the surface—hurt, uncertainty. His eyes search yours, almost pleading. You blink, stunned by the weight of your own question. “Rafe…” you begin, your voice barely a whisper, incredulity lacing your words as you try to make sense of what you’ve just implied. “I’m not leaving you.”

The tension in the room feels suffocating, as if the walls themselves are closing in. You take a breath, steadying yourself, as you step closer, your gaze softening despite the frustration swirling inside you. "This isn’t about that,” you say gently, trying to reach him through the haze of his suspicions. “But I need some control over my life, Rafe. Some protection.” Your voice wavers slightly, but you press on. “I’m not just here to be controlled or managed. I need to know that I’m not just a piece in this game.”

You can feel his breath against your skin, heavy with unspoken fears, and for a brief moment, the façade of his strength cracks. The fear of losing control, of losing you, is palpable, and it clings to the space between you like a storm cloud ready to burst. He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, pacing in frustration. "Control. Protection," he mutters under his breath, his movements sharp and agitated. "You think I’m the threat here? You think I wouldn’t protect you? Protect our family?"

You shake your head, stepping back slightly, trying to maintain some distance from the intensity of his emotions. "I never said that," you say, your voice softer now, trying to calm him. "But this is something I need to do. For me. For them." For a long moment, the two of you stand there, locked in a silent standoff. His breathing is heavy, and the anger in his eyes slowly shifts into something else—something more conflicted. He turns away from you, pacing a few steps before running his hands through his hair again.

"This isn’t how marriages are supposed to work," Rafe mutters, more to himself than to you. The words cut deep, piercing through the fragile layer of calm you’ve been clinging to. It’s a painful reminder of what your marriage has become—what it’s always been. The expectations, the compromises, the strain. This life… it’s not what either of you envisioned. You feel the urge to retort, to let loose the frustrations that have built up over the years, but you bite your tongue. Now isn’t the time for that argument.

"I know," you whisper, though you’re not sure if he hears you. The admission feels hollow in the tense silence that follows, the weight of your reality pressing down on both of you. The room feels unbearably heavy, the air thick with unsaid words. Rafe exhales, his broad shoulders sagging ever so slightly, as though some of the fire inside him has been extinguished. He turns his back to you, the physical distance a reflection of the emotional chasm that has been growing between you both.

For a brief moment, you consider stepping closer, reaching out, bridging that gap—but the weight of your decision, of everything you’ve been trying to secure for yourself and the children, holds you back. It’s a boundary you can’t afford to cross right now. "You should’ve told me," he finally says, his voice quieter, but still taut with lingering tension. There’s hurt there, beneath the anger, beneath his instinct to control everything around him.

Your throat tightens at his words, the soft accusation lingering in the space between you. "I didn’t want this to turn into a fight," you admit, your own voice subdued, drained from the confrontation. The fatigue in your bones echoes in your tone. "I just needed to make sure everything was in place. For the kids, for their future." You pause, the weight of your decisions settling on your chest. "I wasn’t trying to hide it from you."

Rafe turns back to face you, his expression a mixture of frustration, hurt, and something more vulnerable—something he rarely lets show. "It feels like you were," he mutters, the edge of accusation still present, though softer now. His blue eyes search yours, looking for answers, reassurance, something to ease the fear behind his suspicion. You hold his gaze, trying to convey the truth behind your words. "I need to feel like I have some control, Rafe," you say gently, your voice steady but laced with an underlying sadness.

"Our lives… they’re not easy. And I know you want to protect us, but I need to protect them too. In my own way." Your heart beats heavily in your chest, each word an attempt to bridge the gap between you, a gap that seems to widen with every conflict. Rafe’s gaze lingers on you, the tension between you both crackling in the air. You take a tentative step forward, closing the physical distance between you, hoping it will ease the emotional one. Just as you stop inches from him, his expression softens slightly.

He reaches for your hand, his grip firm yet tender, and before you can say anything, he brings it up to his lips. The moment feels suspended in time as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. It’s a gesture so gentle, so unlike the earlier confrontation, that it catches you off guard. The vulnerability in his eyes flickers, almost as if he’s silently asking for forgiveness or offering an unspoken truce.

You feel your heart ache, the gesture disarming you in a way his words couldn’t. It’s as though this kiss is his way of telling you that, despite his anger, despite his suspicions, there’s something deeper binding you together—a love neither of you can deny, even in moments like this. “I’m not the enemy, Y/n,” he repeats softly, his voice rough but sincere, the earlier accusation tempered by this quiet moment.

His lips linger on your skin for just a second longer before he lowers your hand, though he doesn’t let go. You swallow hard, your chest tight with emotion, your voice a whisper as you respond. "I know you're not." The air between you feels different now—quieter, softer, though still tinged with the weight of everything unresolved. For that fleeting moment, it feels as though the two of you are in sync again, even if just barely.

Rafe’s hand remains wrapped around yours, and though the tension between you hasn’t fully dissipated, it’s no longer suffocating. The kiss to your knuckles feels like a promise, fragile but meaningful. As he finally lets go and turns away, you watch him disappear down the hallway, the memory of his lips on your skin lingering long after he's gone. The weight of your choices still presses down on you, but somehow, in that brief exchange, it feels a little lighter.

You know this isn’t over. Rafe’s suspicions won’t vanish overnight, and your need for autonomy remains unresolved. But for now, the confrontation is over. The weight of your decisions, the strain on your already fragile relationship, presses down on you like a heavy cloak. You did the right thing, you remind yourself. This is about protecting your children, about securing a future for them. For now, all you can do is hope that, in time, he’ll come to understand why you did this. Why you needed to.

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springcourthighlady · 2 months ago

Text

Her eyes are tender and misty as she beholds him. "I know... and I don't mean to be a burden to you. I swear it. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lose my head. I just..."

She looks down a bit at the fists in his pockets. "I'm sorry. I know you are going through a lot right now."

Her hand gently holds his elbow. "I messed up and I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I have a hard time trusting people still. And I know that's not your problem, it's mine. But...I do...trust that you want the best for your people and your Court. I know that. I've seen it. And I know how good you are with the children."

She lets out a weary sigh. "I'll listen. To your plan. I-I will trust that you have a good one."

Her eyes search his once more, guilt and worry in her eyes. "After all...any High Lord that puts himself on the line to save a single lowly human from the clutches of his oppressor is worth hearing out. So..thank you. For all of it. For everything you've done for me. I will never forget it, Taml- High Lord."

She shakes her head. "Sorry. Again. Lucien talks a lot in the village, and I'm so used to him using your name," she says softly, a blush spreading across her cheeks, darkening her freckles.

Stone Walls & Sacrifice | Tamlin & Briar @springcourthighlady

Tamlin was more than ready to leave by the time he finished listening to Briar’s rant. He let her finish — he wasn’t that impolite. His brisk footsteps echoed across the marble flooring and he looked over his shoulder, hoping that he was not followed.

Yet, he was not that lucky. The prospects of desert with Lucien and Elain were slipping further away by the minute. Tamlin stilled when she called his name, pressing his lips into a thin line. Why won’t she go home? This is life, in Spring, right now. We’re all worried. We’re all frustrated. We all have family in need of aid. No one gets special privileges. Not even me —

He didn’t even have privacy anymore, or space to think. Though, when he glanced over his shoulder, he was relieved to find some regret in her eyes.

Only his friends called him by his first name. He wasn’t big on enforcing rank, but found it odd how casually she addressed him.

He pressed his tongue into the edge of his teeth, forbidding the quick retort which danced on the edge of his lips. I will not lose it. I cannot. They cannot see me as a beast.

He turned, stuffing his hands deeply into the pockets of his jacket, to hide how they’d tensed into fists. Running from his problems wasn’t effective, but neither was forcing himself into a corner until he lost his temper.

Tamlin saw her hand reach for him. He wanted to back away. It had been over two years since a woman had touched him, apart from Calanmai. He flinched, but did not move. He wasn’t sure he could.

She cares for me? I have met this female once.

Tamlin swallowed, gravely still. “I understand your attachment, Lady Briar. Yet, if you cannot trust me as High Lord of Spring, no plan I create to bring Caiden home will be enough for you.”

He stepped away, lowering his green eyes to the ground. “If you’ll excuse me, it has been a long day.”

#person: briar #person: nyx #thread: tentative ties and tea #brilin #thread: the secret side of me #briar acotar #tamlin #briar #briar acowar #briar rp

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yorsgirl · 7 months ago

Text

Perhaps, in another realm

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: An elixir of life – you, destined solely for his consumption. Yet, in his pursuit, he forgot, he sipped away your essence, your breath of life.

Tropes: Dark romance, Historical fiction, Angst, fluff.

Warnings: implied nsfw, implied forced intimacy, forced marriage, baby-trapping, knife play, yandere themes, isolation, trauma, one-sided love implied, non-explicit violence, mild stockholm syndrome(to empathize with one's captor), misogyny, minor character death, healthily unhealthy relationship, Sukuna being a red-green flag, Sukuna has eyes for no one except his wife.

General Warnings: Heian Era, strict Japanese setting, usage of Japanese terms(glossary provided), True form!Sukuna, husband!Sukuna, wife!reader, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word Count: 3.7k

Glossary || Pictures

Ryomen Sukuna beholds secrets which he musn't.

Each dawn's awakening, he notes the sun's radiant dance on your irises. Marking the gentle arc of your lips, a telltale sign of mirth's embrace. By the garden's edge, he watches as the winds tousle and play with your hair curls.

With each flicker of your essence, he can't help but feel a pang of frustration at his own inability to guard his heart against the allure of your presence. Each time your unpredictability unfolds before him, he curses his own vulnerability for the arising tenderness within him.

It vexes him deeply.

Gnawing at the recesses of his, once assumed, dormant heart. Yet, now brought to life by unknown sensations – fuzzy and irksome.

An elixir of life – you. Meant to be solely consumed by him.

Your intricate curls destined to be twirled in his fingers alone. Singularly, he'd stand as the privileged observer, captivated by your brilliant elegance. Your figure draped in the resplendent folds of an opulent kimono, delicately bestowed upon you by his hands.

Thus, he embarked on the sole course he could comprehend – take you.

Splitting you away from the familiarity of a family, hearth and hamlet; for in his eyes, your fragile essence demands his safeguarding against this wicked, cruel realm.

Persuading you, that a life enfolded in his embrace had no reason for trepidation. Your purity, too immaculate to endure the harshness of existence.

Yet, persuasion faltered; your resolute heart held no inclination to remain in his grasp. Mounting a relentless siege, to break free from him and his distorted path.

"You crave peril as I assume, so be it," He conceded. "But know this: I'll be the sole peril haunting your very being."

Pressed beneath the weight of his body upon the bed, your resistance proves to be futile against his strength. Leaving you ensnared in a struggle where defiance falters in presence of his immense power.

"Isn't this what you desired? Didn't you yearn for peril?" He questions, his forefinger trailed across the delicate curve of your neck, assessing the rhythmic beat of your pulse point.

"Fear not, I shall burn the world down to literal ashes until none poses a threat to you, save for me, of course."

For danger, befalling upon you while his eyes held the witness and hands were the forebearer of pain – he'd allow. After all, he embodied peril, haunting humanity for centuries.

"My dearest," He began, twirling a blade before your defiant gaze. "I've wielded this to afflict your kin but fear not, it shall yield pure ecstacy for you."

Said so, he thrusted the timber end of the blade within your slick, delicate folds. Your screams shunned out over his malevolent laughter, fingers twisted the cotton sheets as he glided the blade in-and-out of you.

Blood dripped down his wounded hand, staining the white to red, yet his countenance held no response to pain. Gaze fixated upon your shuddering form, underneath him.

He was no stranger to the acts committed in bed. Knowledgeable of all ministrations and threads he needed to ensnared in order to make it pleasurable. Yet, you found no pleasure in this undoing.

The act of intimacy, which you envisioned to be filled with love while your lover would pepper kisses on your skin much akin to the gentle touch of spring's warmth.

That dream left shattered like shards of glass when your chastity was cruelly left to ruins under his harsh caress.

The night stretched on, your anguish unending as he remained vigilant, subjecting you to his torment.

When it ceased, he gingerly held your fragility while tears streamed down your eyes. He cradled your head in his palm, enfolding your trembling form against his chest as he murmured endearments into your parched ears.

You feebly hit on his chest, for you were seeking comfort from your captor – a sickening act.

He brought you pain and despair, yet here he was, bringing you solace in his arms. A sickening man, indeed, he was.

And with him, you were to stay.

You kneeled before the shrine deity.

Decked in a white shiromuku with traces of pink pattern embellishing the fabric, haori lowered just above your lips – grateful to the one who dressed you. Moisture laden lashes would've been a sight for sore eyes.

Beside you, your husband knelt. A black montsukini hakama draped around your self-proclaimed fiance and soon to be husband. Perhaps, you'd have seized the moment to admire him in such a lavish attire if he didn't commit the acts he did.

Abduction and coercion reigned heavy on your mind, the priest's chanting muffled over your loud thoughts. Your fear of the impending, palpable.

Later, you stood by his side, bedecked in jewels, unknown to you. Countless villagers and curses bowed before you but you were a foreigner to such deference.

It was his decree. For he was the King of curses and you – his consort, his queen.

Sukuna witnessed you gazing at the pond situated in his garden.

You gazed upon the lotus blooming at the heart of the pond, longingly. Reaching out for it, the trailing end of your garment splashed in the water – a futile attempt, too distant to grasp.

He stifled a snort on the brink of his lips as he descended into the garden, tethering on the stoned pads placed in between soil – approaching you.

"You desire that flower, wife?"

You rose swiftly, clutching the dampened hem of your attire. Refusing to meet his gaze, you brushed off the fabric, clearing away the soil.

"Apologies," You murmured. "I was just curious."

"That doesn't answer my question." He stated, an arch of his eyebrow at your frame. "Do you yearn for it?"

Standing before him, a hush lingered in the air, mere seconds passing. Fingers fidgeting, you nibbled on your inner cheek.

"Perhaps," you admitted, finally locking eyes with his feet once he takes a step forward. Bracing for the inevitable, you tightly shut your eyes.

You shouldn't have considered it. Entertaining the thought of plucking it behind his back, hoping he wouldn't notice, all the while unaware of his presence. You should have realized. Defiance in the past had met harsh retribution. This would be no exception.

"I beg–"

"Enough," He interjected.

You gritted your teeth, fists clenched tightly. This was worse. A single mistake, and you're sealed to a worse fate.

Yet, the vision never bore life.

He took your right hand, delicately clasping it within his own. Slowly, he pried open each finger, tenderly placing something within. Curiosity overrides your apprehension, and you cautiously open your eyes – finding the lotus nestled in your palm.

Your lips parted in astonishment as you gaze up at him, wonderstruck.

"Apologies should not leave your lips for trying to claim what is rightfully yours." He asserted, a ghost of an arc perched upon his lips.

"You desire something, you speak up," He waited, letting the words sink down. "Its upon me, how I'll bring it to fruition."

"You are to accompany master to dinner tonight," Uraume conveyed, head and eyes lowered in a humble bow.

The fusuma slid shut, signaling their departure, leaving you to your solitude once again.

Lately, companionship has been ceased from your existence. Confined to your chambers by Sukuna's decree that none other than he should share a moment with you. Save for his devoted servant and few maids he deemed worthy, who prepared you for the day.

Upon your bed, you rested, gazing into a void. Softly humming a melody, reminiscent of a distant song, echoing from the depths of your memory; harkening down the familial embrace in your ancestral village.

The day commenced to dusk, the sky donning a cloak of darkness – welcoming the night's silhouette.

Attended by chosen handmaidens, you were draped in a lavish kimono of crimson and ivory. Crushed red cherry paste graced your lips, a stroke of kohl ran along your lashlines.

You beheld your reflection, lovely; yet the joy eluded you. Unable to savor your captivating visage amidst your plight.

You were escorted to the dining hall by Uraume. As the doors parted, your captor, your husband, awaited you; seated on the head of the table. You took your place across him, evading his malevolent stare, your attention fixed solely on the delicacies presented by the servants.

"Afraid to meet my gaze, wife?" He inquired, his smirk palpable in his tone.

Still, you didn't meet his gaze, eyes fixed on your folded hands resting neatly on your lap. "I fear, I am not deserving to meet your eyes, your highness."

His sight danced upon your figure, measuring you as though you were his quarry. A chuckle escaped him as he poured the sake in his ochoko, indulging in a sip.

"Amusing, how you speak so when you are moons away from birthing my offspring, wife."

Your frame grew rigid, lips drawn tight whilst you glanced at your burgeoning womb.

Restraints couldn't bond you to him forever, he comprehended that moons past. Thus, he had to resort to unruly stratagems. Seeding you with his progeny – rendering you incapable of fleeing him.

If only, you acquiesced and remained by his side, as he craved, he wouldn't have acted thus. But your resolve left him with no alternative.

Not a matter to ponder his head upon, he would've planted his seed in you eventually. A kinship with you, his aspiration.

"I wouldn't leave you famished in such a state, wife. Begin eating." He declared, slicing a strip of meat with his chopsticks.

Eating, as if it were possible in such a condition. The satisfaction of a hearty meal has long deserted you. You didn't suspect the flavors of dishes perched before you. Furthermore, you lacked appetite.

You partook in meals solely to survive.

With adjoined palms, you offered a silent prayer to the almighty reigning above you. And so, you began.

Blood bathed the tatami mats of your chambers.

A severed head of a, newly appointed, handmaiden, laid near your feet. Her corpse, probably resulted into hundreds– no thousands of strips, indistinguishable.

Your stance remained rigid and motionless. Terror evident on your countenance, fragile fingertips shaking with shock and apprehension.

"Ah wife," Your husband's voice echoed in your ears. He approached you, stepping over the puddle of blood and sliced flesh.

"You weren't supposed to witness that– come," He gingerly caressed your skin, ushering you out of his chambers with a hand on your back.

"Uraume," He summoned his loyal servant, as on cue, they knelt before their master. "Have the maids tidy this mess."

With the subtle nod, Uraume pivoted around, carrying out their master's command alike a proclamation from thee almighty.

Snapping a life wasn't on his schedule today. He wished to spent it with you, hence summoning you back to your chambers.

Perhaps, a foolish handmaiden, attracted by his visage, made the decision to lure him with her appeal. Lowering her uniform to display her curve of of breast, singing praises of his brilliance to him.

Taken him to be resembling any ordinary man, giving into his desires by just any woman's revealed skin. Alas! He had no interest in any woman other than his wife.

An act of like that, only receives the treatment he'd bestow upon any mortal other than you.

Death.

"I must say, you look lovely, my queen." Twirling a strand of your hair, he pushed it behind your ear.

Upon the engawa of your husband's abode, you knelt, sight fixated on the swarm of fireflies illuminating the garden.

Sukuna held his stance beside you, lower two hands bearing his weight behind, the third perched upon his arched knee. He set the kiseru down with the fourth, his thumb and forefinger lifted your chin; coaxing your towards him.

"Intriguing, you are," He remarked, eyebrow arched.

"Such defiance you displayed upon our initial union, and now, you show indifference. Continuously subjecting me to such blank stares and compliance." A hint of exasperation lingered his tone.

"Isn't that what you wished for?" You retorted, a moment later.

Drawing you near, his lips brushed against yours, "Perhaps, I did do." He murmured, breath caressing your cheeks, prompting a flutter of your eyelids.

"But now, I yearn for something greater."

With that, he seized your lips in a fervent, fiery kiss. Only parting, a hair's breath away, to allow you to catch your breath.

He pivoted you gently, drawing you into his embrace. Two arms encircled your waist, one caressing your swollen belly. Third, Brushing aside your hair, you heard the tinkling of ornaments. Moments later, a chain adorned your neck, a crimson gemstone nestled between your collarbones.

"Ruby?"

"Rubies are ill-suited during pregnancy, its diamond" He corrected, whispering beside your ear, securing the clasp of the chain. "Unlike most, this one's tint sets it apart than rest."

"For what?" You questioned, assessing the gem like it were poison. Grasping it between your middle finger and thumb, the lantern lights reflected on its surface. Though small, you knew it amounted to more than your ancestral wealth.

"Do I need a reason to spoil my wife with jewels?"

A moment passed in silence, your gazed him through your peripheral vision, the next. "Perhaps not, its beautiul."

"Turn around," He commanded, you complied instinctively. Turning your body to face him.

His gaze met yours at first, second they drifted to the chain bedecked on your neck and on third, he glanced at both, at once.

The jewel's radiance evoked with you being it's wearer.

A grin cracked upon his lips, gingerly holding your cheek in his calloused hands in which you begrudgingly leaned in. With a mouth, summoned on his palm, he placed a chaste kiss on your skin.

"Just how Intriguing you are, wife."

Love for your son eluded you.

A splitting image of his father with the identical hair and carmine tinted eyes. You pondered if he'd grow up to be just like your husband.

At days, you couldn't muster the courage to cast your eyes upon him. His mere presence: a testament to your plight, evidence that you were no longer the woman you once were and evidence to your compliance to Sukuna's desires.

Even then, you never shied away from your duties as a mother.

Perhaps, some love existed, for he wielded your flesh and blood too.

You were rendered from ever escaping. Though half-heartedly, you didn't wish to leave your child with Sukuna even though you despised both of their existence.

In this era, nurturing a child as a sole woman was beyond grasp. For all held the thought, as a woman your sole duty was to remain by your husband's side and bear his offspring.

You couldn't return to your home either. Your father, though loved you, would never let you set foot in his abode ever again.

Reasons: You were abducted by a man, your chastity stripped off of you. You were no longer pure in any sense.

He wouldn't tarnish his family name and reputation for just a daughter.

Moreover, your matrimony with the wicked, king of curses had reached rivers far; binding you to his side forever.

Peril loomed at every turn, dangling your life by a single thread. Easily snapped by even the weakest of men. Sukuna's adversaries would leave no stone unturned to reach him, venturing as far to lay down the life of his innocent wife. Someone absolved of his transgressions.

Reluctantly, you accepted that remaining by his side was the wisest decision.

You cradled your son in your embrace, rocking him back and forth as you hummed a lullaby to put him to sleep.

Once his snores serenaded the room, you tenderly placed him upon his cot, adjacent to your own resting place. Gentle pats graced his chest, once you noted him stirring in the embrace of slumber.

"Come to bed," Your husband's voice echoed in your ears. Compliance swiped in your being, a swift rotation of your heels after you had checked your son to be far from awakening. You parted the curtains and perched upon the bed – lying beside your husband.

His arms encircled around your waist, drawing you to his chest, he inhaled your scent.

Your body tensed when his lips brushed against your nape. You dreaded the inevitable.

Six moons had passed, since he last embraced you intimately. The last two, post your son's arrival, were a blur of exhaustion. From tending to your physical strain and catering to your son's ceaseless crave of attention.

Tonight, all you longed for was to surrender yourself to slumber, wrapped in embrace of gentle linens. Alas, it seemed that wish would remain unfulfilled.

You were keenly aware of his intentions tonight – for he was but a man. Thus, you braced yourself.

You waited in anticipation, for him to act on his desires. Yet, it did not come to pass.

You cracked your eyelids open, stealing a glance at him. His carmine eyes met yours in a resolute stare, holding it with unwavering poise.

"Retire to sleep," he finally remarked, tenderly brushing aside the tendrils from your weary visage.

A year prior, during the early nights of your newly forged union, you would have taken a moment to contemplate his actions, perhaps even staying awake the entire night to discern his intentions.

Now, whether out of trust or simply exhaustion from the demands of motherhood – you found yourself slipping into a dreamless slumber without further ado.

The haunting nightmare of humanity, he was; yet, you found solace in falling asleep in his embrace.

His son has taken just after you.

Verily, his offspring could be likened unto a veritable likeness of himself in countenance, yet in comportment and carriage, he bespoke tales of you.

Awaking to the crack of dawn, shedding tears should companionship elude him. Taking solace in the embrace of the verdant garden, to which you oft escorted him. Even directing reproachful glances towards him, his father, whilst cradled lovingly in his paternal arms.

Beneath your eyes lay heavy shadows, hollows etched upon your cheeks, and a perpetual frown graced your lips, save for moments spent conversing with your offspring.

Sukuna escorted his sobbing kin from their chambers, affording you the much-needed respite that has eluded you of late; his offspring casted a disdainful gaze upon him.

"What? Speak up if you wish to," He queried, a playful lilt adorning his speech.

He tenderly traced his son's tender cheek with his claw, wary of leaving any mark upon his cherubic visage. His son seized his finger in both tiny hands, elevating it as though clutching a covert weapon – scrutinizing the nail and the ridges with keen interest.

His little one beamed, a gesture akin to the gentle breeze of summer, bestowed upon him by the heavens above. A giggle swift past his lips – a laughter, he assumed angel's melody wouldn't sound better.

His smile was yours – Sukuna realized. Perhaps, he hadn't completely taken after him in physical features.

Rocking his form back and forth on his arms, a tender smile danced upon his lips.

"Lower the tone, child. Your mother rests inside."

Sukuna couldn't help but contemplate alternative scenarios.

He sipped his sake, his gaze fixed upon your figure, leaning against the amado – your eyes lingering on the cherry blossom trees outside, in the garden.

The fragrance of spring permeated the air, imbuing a soothing atmosphere, starkly contrasting with the terror he instilled upon the village beyond the river.

At moments such as these, he can't help but ponder on the possibility of attaining a kinship with you, without resorting to unruly methods.

His thoughts rewind to the clash conversation he shared with you, mere moments past.

In your gaze, defiance ablazed, aimed straight at him.

"What's your intent? To end my life? Proceed, now. Who held you back? Proceed. Perhaps, I'd choose that fate over spending another day with you."

"Make no mistake," You pressed on. "My sentiment for you isn't love, don't deceive yourself. What festers within me is pure, unadulterated hate."

How could he let slip from memory? A curse he was, brutal and unyielding. Unwelcomed, marked with shame – The disgraceful one. How could he fail to recall? Love's realm, forever beyond the reach of his reach.

He seized you, by means unorthodox yet deemed vital. Yet, he finds himself lost in contemplation.

What if he had treaded a different path?

Would a love aglow your heart if he had courted you in a proper manner? Would you accept him in your life – a husband, a companion, a lover? Would you had willingly become his?

For your presence brought his heart back to life; in doing so, the life and light was lost from your eyes.

Scorned by the desire to claim you as his, the thought of your own desires, feelings was pushed to the desolate corners of his mind.

In another realm, he assumes– in another realm, he might have treated you properly from the very beginning.

In another realm, you wouldn't have to have a lingering threat struck on your mind. You wouldn't fear him.

In a realm beyond, you'd stand beside him by choice, not coercion. A realm where he'd navigate every step flawlessly. A realm where, instead of vowing to set the world ablaze for you, he'd pledge to journey with you until the world's end.

Perhaps, in another realm, you'd fall in love with him like he did for you in this.

A/N: uhm uhm uhm, just typed down an idea which I had for days + I used a new format of literal english (idk how it turned out, I am so sorry if it's cringe 😭) + I fucking don't know how to end stories so bear with me.

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enreveriee · 1 month ago

Text

♫︎ FROM SCREENS TO SCENES | L.HS

IN WHICH: you decide to give online dating a shot but have never met your boyfriend in person, nor do you even know what he looks like. when your friends pressure you into finally asking him out for a real-life date, things take a surprising turn. what you expected to be a simple meetup becomes an adventure filled with unexpected twists. GENRE: fluff + crack , ᨓ , WARNING(S): pet names, kissing, cuddling, too much fluff, struggles of bringing online relationship offline, not proofread, lmk if I missed anything ┊ WORD COUNT: 12k masterlist

[RIRI’S NOTE ┈─★ I was too proud when I started to write but then towards the end I just wanted to hide because of embarrassment. I promise I'm gonna make a horror or supernatural fic for halloween since I feel like fluff is driving me crazy now TT]

taglist: @chexnluv , @iconchae, @wonwonpuffs , @sol3chu , @firstclassjaylee , @wensurr , @hoshieee , @academiq

YOU SAT CURLED UP ON THE COUCH, your phone resting comfortably in your hands, its soft glow reflecting off your smiling face. You could feel your cheeks warming as a small giggle escaped your lips, your heart fluttering as you stared down at the message thread from him. Even after two years of dating online, Heeseung still had this inexplicable effect on you—his words always managing to stir that giddy feeling in your chest. You tapped out a reply quickly, the excitement of the conversation making your fingers fly over the screen.

Just as you hit send, the sound of footsteps echoed through the room, interrupting your blissful bubble. You quickly locked your phone and dropped it onto your lap, trying to appear casual, but you already knew it was too late.

“Still texting your hubby?” Semi’s voice called out from across the room, her teasing tone unmistakable. You glanced up just in time to see her strolling over with a mischievous grin, arms swinging at her sides. She plopped down next to you on the couch without hesitation, grabbing one of the throw pillows and hugging it close to her chest. The way she eyed you was almost predatory—she had caught you red-handed, and she knew it.

Before you could even muster a response, Heesoo appeared right behind her, leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed, eyes gleaming with equal amusement. “Hubby, huh?” she chimed in, her voice smooth and knowing, as if the two had conspired together. She tilted her head, her brow quirking up as she let the word roll off her tongue like it was some sort of inside joke.

You could feel your face heat up instantly, a mix of embarrassment and irritation bubbling up in your chest as they watched you squirm. “He’s not my hubby,” you muttered, trying and failing to sound nonchalant, as if their teasing wasn’t getting to you. You fumbled to close your phone, clutching it tightly in your hands as if it could shield you from the embarrassment. The more you tried to act casual, the more you felt your nerves betray you—your fingers gripping the phone a little too tightly, your posture too stiff.

Semi shot you a side glance, raising her brows as if she didn’t believe a single word you just said. “Uh-huh, sure,” she drawled, her voice dripping with mock disbelief. Her lips quirked up into a sly smile as she nudged your arm, causing you to shift uncomfortably on the couch.

“Soon-to-be, then,” Heesoo added with a smirk, her voice dripping with playful confidence as she sauntered over. She stood in front of you now, hands resting casually on her hips, eyes narrowed like she was about to spill a secret you hadn’t even realized you were keeping.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. “Oh, shut up,” you mumbled under your breath, sinking deeper into the cushions as if that could somehow protect you from their relentless teasing. Your words might have sounded dismissive, but the way your lips twitched at the corners betrayed the smile you were holding back.

They weren’t wrong, after all. You had been dating Heeseung for two years now—two years of late-night texts, playful banter, and heart-fluttering moments that made you feel like a teenager all over again. And yet, as much as you adored him, there was still that small detail you couldn’t ignore: you hadn’t met him in person yet. You had never even seen a clear picture of him, not beyond a couple of blurry selfies he’d sent over the years. Sure, they looked good—he looked good—but there was always that tiny, nagging thought in the back of your mind.

“Look at her,” Semi cooed, turning her head towards Heesoo as if to share the victory of seeing you squirm. “She’s blushing.”

You scoffed, running a hand over your face to hide the growing warmth in your cheeks. “I am not,” you protested, knowing full well that you were. The way they both stared at you, amused and smug, only made it worse.

Heesoo, always the bold one, plopped herself on the coffee table directly in front of you, folding her legs beneath her as she leaned forward with that signature teasing smirk. “What’s it gonna take for you to finally meet him, huh?” she asked, voice light but laced with curiosity. “You’ve been together for two years now. Doesn’t it feel like it’s time?”

You shifted in your seat, feeling their gazes burn into you as you struggled to come up with a decent excuse. “I mean, we’ve talked about it…” you started, your voice trailing off as you tried to sound convincing. Truth be told, the idea of meeting him did excite you, but it also made your stomach twist with nerves. What if he wasn’t what you expected? What if he didn’t like you in person? Those doubts, however small, had kept you from pushing the issue.

“Oh, please,” Semi cut in with a roll of her eyes, reaching over to lightly shove your shoulder. “If you’re nervous about it, just admit it. We all know you’re totally whipped for him.”

You sighed, letting your head fall back against the couch as you stared up at the ceiling, their laughter filling the room. “Fine,” you groaned, giving in to their teasing. “Maybe I’m a little nervous, okay?”

“A little?” Semi echoed, her tone full of playful disbelief. “Girl, you’re terrified.”

Heesoo grinned, standing up and stretching her arms over her head. “Don’t worry,” she said, her voice softening just a little, “When you two finally meet, it’s gonna be perfect. And when it happens, we better be the first ones to know, got it?”

You smiled, your heart warming at their relentless support, even if it was wrapped in teasing. “Yeah, yeah, you’ll be the first to know.”

Semi’s gaze was sharp, fixated on you as if she was about to make the most important suggestion of the century. Her brow arched, curiosity and a hint of determination flashing in her eyes. “By the way,” she began, her voice deceptively casual but filled with the weight of her endless curiosity, “why don’t you just ask him to meet up already?”

She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees, chin propped up by her hands, fully expecting a detailed answer. Semi wasn’t just invested in your relationship with Heeseung—no, she was very, very, very invested. In fact, ever since you mentioned Heeseung, she’d turned into your personal dating detective, always nudging you with questions and advice as if it were her own love life on the line.

You let out a small laugh, nervously shifting under her scrutiny. “Yeah… I mean, I’ve thought about it,” you mumbled, eyes darting down to your phone, the little weight of doubt creeping up on you.

Heesoo, who had been lazily sprawled out on the opposite couch, suddenly let out a loud, exaggerated sigh, her hand dramatically flopping onto her forehead like a character straight out of a soap opera. “Exactly,” she muttered, rolling her eyes for extra effect. “You're not even part of the #hatemenclub anymore, so why not?” Her voice dripped with playful sarcasm, and she shot you a sideways glance, clearly enjoying every second of her role in this drama.

The #hatemenclub. A relic from your high school days—the sacred pact you three made to never, ever fall into the trap of romance. It had been a joking sort of vow, born out of teenage cynicism and a few too many bad rom-coms. And yet, somehow, it stuck. Or at least, it stuck for them.

You, however, had found a loophole: Heeseung. The moment you told them about him, they had teased you endlessly, threatening to kick you out of the “club,” but that day never came. It became more of a running joke now, how you were the only one who had managed to “break the rules” without suffering the consequences.

“I’m still in the club, though,” you tried to defend, your voice soft as you fidgeted with the edge of the blanket draped over your lap. “If we, uh, exclude Heeseung, I mean.”

Semi let out a loud snort, barely managing to stifle her laughter as she nudged you with her elbow. “Yeah, okay, if we exclude Heeseung,” she mimicked, raising her hands in air quotes before leaning back with a knowing smirk. “You’re so still in the club.”

Heesoo rolled her eyes again, this time in a way that felt almost second nature to her. She sat up straighter, her long hair falling over her shoulder as she gave you the most unimpressed look. “Oh, c’mon,” she said, her voice laced with mock exasperation. “You can’t possibly still think you’re in the #hatemenclub after dating a guy for two years.”

You sighed, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as the two of them continued their relentless teasing. “I’m serious! I’ll—” you paused, feeling the weight of their teasing eyes on you, “I’ll try. I just… I need to ask him first.”

There was a nervous edge to your voice, and you knew they both picked up on it instantly. Your fingers twirled the fabric of your blanket between them, your mind racing with the thought of actually asking Heeseung to meet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to meet him—it was that, despite everything, the idea still made your stomach flip in a thousand knots.

Meeting him felt like the culmination of two years of virtual feelings—two years of inside jokes, late-night conversations, and building something you couldn’t quite explain. What if reality didn’t match the fantasy?

Semi’s eyes softened for a moment as she watched your nervous fidgeting, though her playful smirk never fully disappeared. “You’ve got this,” she said, her tone light but encouraging, as if this was some grand mission you had to complete. “Just ask him! What’s the worst that could happen?”

You glanced up at her, catching the sparkle of sincerity hidden beneath her teasing. It was rare for Semi to offer advice without an accompanying joke, and you appreciated it more than you’d ever admit out loud.

Heesoo, meanwhile, wasn’t about to let up that easily. She scooted closer, leaning forward with her elbows resting on her knees, her face now mere inches from yours. “Exactly,” she added, her eyes glimmering with amusement. “And when he says yes—and we all know he will—we get to hear all the juicy details first. Don’t even think about hiding anything.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head as you playfully shoved her away. “I’m not hiding anything!” you protested, your voice coming out more defensively than you intended.

“Mm-hmm,” Heesoo hummed, raising an eyebrow as if to say she didn’t quite believe you. “We’ll see about that.”

The banter continued, filling the room with laughter and lighthearted teasing as you tried, and failed, to convince them you were still a proud member of the #hatemenclub. But deep down, as you glanced at your phone and reread Heeseung’s latest message, the butterflies stirred again. Maybe it was time to take that next step. Maybe… just maybe, they were right.

For now, you could enjoy the moment—surrounded by the warmth of your best friends and the soft glow of your phone, where Heeseung’s name sat waiting.

THE DAY HAD FINALLY COME, and your heart was racing with a mixture of excitement and nervous energy. You had spent hours preparing, trying to make sure you looked as pretty as possible. Not too much makeup, but just enough to give you a soft, girly look. Your outfit was carefully chosen, a delicate dress that gave off casual yet charming vibes. You didn’t want to overwhelm him, but you also didn’t want to underwhelm, either.

As you approached the small restaurant you had both agreed on, you paused outside the door for a moment, taking a deep breath. The place was cozy, not too fancy, which was perfect since you didn’t want to feel out of place. The fact that it wasn’t crowded was a relief, too—no need for unnecessary pressure.

You opened your phone, fingers shaking slightly as you typed out the message, “Baby, I arrived. Where are you?”

Not even a minute later, the reply popped up on your screen, and you smiled. He’s here.

“I’m wearing a blue shirt, it’s the seat in the corner.”

Your heart did a little flip as you looked around the restaurant, scanning for that blue shirt. And then you saw him, sitting by himself in the far corner of the room, casually leaning back in his chair, glancing at his phone. Excitement bubbled up inside you as you approached, trying to calm the butterflies swirling in your stomach. But something felt off as you got closer. His face—it didn’t quite match the picture.

Sure, the picture he sent had been blurry, but this guy… he looked different. More handsome, yes, but different. You hesitated, standing awkwardly near the table for a second, your mind spinning with doubts. Was this really him?

“Umm... you’re Heeseung, right?” you asked, your voice sounding more timid than you’d hoped. You didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but the feeling gnawed at you.

The guy glanced up from his phone, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, you must be Y/N,” he said, his voice smooth and confident. There was no hint of hesitation in his tone, as if he hadn’t noticed your uncertainty at all.

You felt a small pit of confusion in your stomach. The voice matched. The name matched. But his face... why did he look so different from what you imagined? You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been catfished—by a ridiculously handsome guy, no less. It didn’t make sense, but the thought was there, lurking in the back of your mind.

You opened your mouth to ask about the photo, to try and figure out the discrepancy, but he cut you off before you could even get the words out. “Can we order first?” he asked, leaning forward slightly, his eyes flickering toward the menu on the table.

You blinked, thrown off by his sudden shift in conversation. “Uhh… sure,” you muttered, feeling slightly deflated. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world to put the awkwardness on hold, but the unease in your chest lingered. He hadn’t even addressed the fact that he looked so different from the picture. Why was he avoiding it?

You glanced down at the menu, but your mind wasn’t really on food. Instead, your eyes kept flickering back to him. His messy hair, styled just enough to look effortlessly good, caught your attention. His features were sharp, his jawline defined. He had this boyish charm about him that made you want to melt right there in the chair.

He’s so much more handsome in person, you thought to yourself, almost feeling embarrassed at the realization. But that made everything more confusing. Why wouldn’t he just send a proper picture? It didn’t add up.

Heeseung glanced up from his own menu, catching your gaze, and you quickly looked away, feeling a flush of heat rush to your cheeks. It was like being thrown back into the early days of your online relationship, back when every text from him made your heart race. Except now, you were sitting across from him, and it felt… real.

Too real.

But the unease was still there. You fiddled with the edge of the napkin in your lap, trying to figure out how to ask the question without sounding paranoid. Your mind raced through a dozen different possibilities. Old photo? Bad camera quality?

“So... about that picture you sent,” you finally managed to say, your voice soft, testing the waters. You lifted your gaze to meet his again, trying to keep your expression neutral.

Heeseung looked at you for a moment, his eyes studying your face, but before you could get any further, he leaned back in his chair with a casual smile. “Yeah, I know, the picture wasn’t the best,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair in that effortless way guys always do. “I’m not great with selfies.”

The way he said it made you pause. He didn’t seem fazed at all by your question, almost as if he expected it. His easygoing demeanor threw you off, and for a moment, you felt silly for even doubting him. Maybe you were overthinking it.

“Ahh,” you nodded slowly, trying to hide the relief creeping in. “I guess that makes sense.”

He gave you a smile, and suddenly, the awkwardness started to melt away. It wasn’t perfect, not yet, but the butterflies in your stomach shifted from nervous to something lighter. You glanced down at the menu again, pretending to be interested in the food, but your mind was still buzzing with thoughts of him—this real, handsome Heeseung sitting in front of you.

As the waiter approached to take your orders, you couldn’t help but sneak another glance at him. His hair, the way it fell just slightly over his forehead, his relaxed posture, the way his fingers tapped idly against the table. You felt a tiny smile tug at your lips. Maybe it wasn’t exactly how you imagined it, but something about this moment—awkward and all—felt right.

And the butterflies? Well, they were still there. But now, they were dancing a little differently.

As you stared down at the menu, the words began to blur together. The pressure of the moment was getting to you, and suddenly, nothing made sense. You hadn’t expected to freeze like this—after all, how hard could it be to choose something off a menu? But the truth was, this was your first time at the restaurant, and the foreign names of the dishes only added to your mounting anxiety.

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as the waiter approached your table, notepad in hand. Your heart began to race, and the butterflies, which had been fluttering harmlessly before, now felt like a storm of nerves. What if I order the wrong thing? What if he thinks I’m weird?

Just as you were about to blurt out something—anything—your panic was cut short by the gentle sensation of a hand grasping yours. You blinked in surprise, eyes widening as you looked up from the menu to see Heeseung’s hand resting over yours on the table, his fingers curling lightly around yours. The warmth of his touch sent a calming wave through you, as if he could feel your nervousness and knew exactly how to soothe it.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said softly, his voice steady and reassuring. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand in the most subtle, comforting way. You couldn’t help but feel your pulse slow down just a little, the chaos inside you quieting as he gave you a small, understanding smile. It was the kind of smile that said, I’ve got you.

He let out a soft sigh, as if he knew this was overwhelming for you, and then, without skipping a beat, he turned to the waiter. “We’ll have the grilled salmon for her,” he said confidently, his tone polite but decisive. “And I’ll take the steak, medium rare, please.”

The way he ordered without hesitation, without even needing to ask what you wanted, left you absolutely stunned. You couldn’t help but stare at him for a second, your mind racing to catch up. It took a moment for it to sink in—he had remembered. He had remembered what you liked, something you had mentioned casually during one of your countless late-night conversations online. Something so small, so fleeting, and yet, here he was, recalling it with such ease as if it had always been on his mind.

As the waiter walked away, you were left speechless, the butterflies in your stomach doing somersaults now for an entirely different reason. You hadn’t just lucked out with a handsome guy—you had hit the jackpot.

Sitting across from you was the same Heeseung you’d spent the last two years talking to, laughing with, dreaming about. Only now, he was real, and somehow, better than you had imagined. The boy you’d only known through texts and blurry pictures was suddenly flesh and blood, and he was everything—handsome, cute, charming, thoughtful—and all yours.

“Did you really just… remember that?” you asked softly, still a bit in awe, your hand still tingling from his touch. You tried to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips, but it was impossible. The butterflies had taken over now, and all you could feel was that giddy, almost dizzying sense of affection.

Heeseung leaned back in his chair, shrugging slightly but with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Of course. It’s not like you ever shut up about how much you love salmon,” he teased, his voice light and playful. He smirked a little, clearly enjoying the fact that he’d surprised you.

You felt a laugh bubble up from your chest, shaking your head at how effortlessly he put you at ease. “Well… maybe I mentioned it once or twice,” you admitted, a playful edge creeping into your voice.

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world outside of your little bubble seemed to disappear. The way he was looking at you—like he had been waiting for this moment just as much as you had—made your heart race all over again. It was as if everything you had built over the last two years was now culminating in this one perfect evening.

Before you could lose yourself entirely in the moment, the waiter reappeared, placing your plates down in front of you. The delicious aroma of the food filled the air, but your attention was still on Heeseung. Even as the waiter left, you barely glanced at your food, too caught up in the way he smiled at you across the table.

He picked up his fork, but before he dug into his steak, he gave you a knowing look. “You’re still staring at me,” he pointed out with a chuckle, his voice dripping with that teasing affection that made your heart skip a beat.

You blinked, flustered, quickly picking up your own fork to hide the fact that, yes, you had been completely lost in thought. “I’m not staring!” you protested, though the blush on your cheeks probably gave you away. You poked at your salmon, trying to focus, but your thoughts were still a mess of emotions—excitement, disbelief, and that growing sense of affection that felt even stronger now that he was here, in front of you.

Heeseung laughed softly, shaking his head. “Sure, sure,” he said, clearly not believing you. “But, you know, I kind of like it.” He shot you a wink, and just like that, the butterflies were back in full force, making your heart do flips all over again.

THE DOOR TO YOUR SHARED ROOM HADN'T EVEN FULLY CLOSED BEHIND YOU WHEN, Semi popped out from behind her desk like a rabbit springing from its burrow. Her eyes were wide with excitement, her whole body practically vibrating with curiosity. You should’ve expected it—Semi was never one to wait for gossip, especially when it concerned something as juicy as your first offline date with Heeseung.

“So, so, so—how did it go?” she asked, her voice pitched high with enthusiasm as she bounced on her toes. It was like she’d been holding in all her questions for hours, just waiting for you to walk through that door. You hadn’t even had a chance to put your bag down before she was in front of you, blocking your path, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

With a sigh, you dropped onto your bed, letting the soft mattress swallow you up for a second. “We talked and ate,” you muttered, trying to play it cool. The truth was, the date had left your heart in shambles, but you weren’t ready to share every detail just yet. You needed a moment to process it all, to figure out how you felt now that the boy you’d been dating for two years online had finally become more than just a name on your phone.

Semi, however, wasn’t about to let you off that easily. She let out an exaggerated scoff, folding her arms over her chest as she stared down at you, her brows raised in disbelief. “Only that? No kisses? No hugs? Nothing?” Her tone was mockingly disappointed, and she threw her hands up in the air as if you had committed the gravest sin by not locking lips with him. “I expected more from you, Y/N!”

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “It was our first time meeting offline,” you said, your voice defensive as you sat up slightly, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Give me a break. We needed to, you know, talk like normal people first.”

But Semi wasn’t buying it. She huffed, plopping down beside you on the bed with a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, but you’ve literally been dating for two years,” she stressed, leaning in closer with that signature mischievous grin of hers. “You’d think you two would’ve been all over each other by now!”

You felt your cheeks grow warm at her words. She wasn’t exactly wrong, but still—it was overwhelming enough to finally see Heeseung in person, to hear his voice without the filter of a screen between you. The thought of doing anything more intimate, in public no less, felt like it would’ve sent your nervous system into a complete shutdown.

“Heeseung's not… he’s not like that,” you muttered, brushing a hand through your hair as you tried to deflect. But Semi, ever persistent, was already on to her next question.

“So, was he cute though?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows with a teasing smile. Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she poked your arm, clearly enjoying how flustered you were becoming. She knew you too well—knew exactly how to get under your skin.

You cleared your throat, trying to muster up a calm, composed response. “He looked…” You trailed off, unsure of how to put into words just how ridiculously handsome he had been. The way his messy hair framed his face, the effortless confidence in the way he carried himself, the warmth in his eyes that had made your heart race all over again—it was almost too much to describe.

But before you could finish, Semi leaned in even closer, practically vibrating with excitement. “He looked what?” she teased, her voice dragging out the question. “Handsome? Gorgeous? Like a total heartthrob?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Okay, fine!” you finally relented, your voice muffled through your palms. “He’s really handsome, okay? Like… ridiculously handsome. But—” You lifted your head to glare playfully at her. “Don’t make me sound like I’m simping for him.”

Semi let out a loud, satisfied laugh, clapping her hands together as if she had won some unspoken game. “Oh my God,” she giggled, leaning back onto her elbows with a grin so wide it practically lit up the room. “You totally are simping for him! Admit it, Y/N!”

You felt a flood of butterflies at her words. Maybe she was right. Maybe you were simping a little. But could you really blame yourself? You’d spent two years falling for Heeseung’s charm through a screen, and now that you’d finally met him in person, it felt like all of those feelings were amplified tenfold.

Still, you weren’t about to let Semi get the last word. With a playful roll of your eyes, you grabbed one of your pillows and lightly swatted her with it. “Alright, alright, enough!” you said, trying to suppress your own laughter. “Yes, he’s cute. Yes, I like him. Happy now?”

Semi dodged the pillow with a laugh, her eyes twinkling as she stood up from the bed and made her way back to her desk. “Oh, I’m more than happy,” she said, smirking as she glanced over her shoulder at you. “But the real question is—when are you gonna kiss him?”

Your eyes widened, and you immediately threw the pillow at her again, missing by a mile. “Semi!”

She cackled, her laughter filling the room as you both dissolved into fits of giggles. And even as you buried your face in your hands again, cheeks burning with embarrassment, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, a little more excited about what was to come.

But then, your phone buzzed in your hand. The screen lit up with Heeseung’s name, and immediately, a surge of excitement and nervousness hit you like a wave. Your heart skipped a beat, but then you froze. Semi was still there, and you knew her well enough to know that she would pounce on any opportunity to tease you mercilessly if she saw Heeseung’s name on your phone.

You glanced at her, quickly assessing your options. The playful glint in her eyes already hinted that she was curious. There was no way you'd have a peaceful conversation with him if she was around.

With a sigh, you shot her a glance. “I’ll go take this call,” you said, casually waving your phone as if it were nothing. “It must be a job offer.”

The lie came out so smoothly that even you were shocked by how easily it slipped off your tongue. Semi didn’t question it either, though she narrowed her eyes suspiciously for a second before shrugging and turning her attention back to her phone.

Relieved, you swiftly exited the room, pulling the door behind you as quietly as possible to ensure she wouldn’t follow. Once out of the room, you made your way down the hallway, trying to find a quiet spot where you could talk to him in peace. With one last look over your shoulder to confirm you weren’t being spied on, you finally pressed the phone to your ear.

“H-hello?” you stammered slightly, your voice a bit softer than usual. The weight of knowing what he looked like in person now—it made this whole conversation feel different, heavier, in a way that made your heart race.

“Hey,” Heeseung’s familiar voice greeted you from the other end, and the sound immediately sent a rush of warmth through your chest. “You home?”

You hesitated for a second, quickly glancing around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “J-just reached,” you finally responded, trying to keep your voice steady, though the nervousness crept into your tone. Now that you knew what he looked like—his real face, the way his smile tugged at the corners of his lips—it was harder to keep your composure.

There was a brief pause on the other end. “What about you?” you asked, attempting to regain some control over your fluttering heart.

“I reached too,” he said simply, though the awkwardness in his voice was undeniable. It wasn’t the same as it had been before you’d met him. Something had shifted. Maybe this was how online couples felt after meeting for the first time—unsure of how to navigate the new dynamic, the new reality of knowing the person behind the screen in a way you hadn’t before.

You leaned against the cool wall in the hallway, running a hand through your hair as you tried to figure out what to say next. The silence that followed was thick with unspoken questions—Did you have fun? Did I make a good impression? Will we meet again? But none of those questions made it past your lips.

Instead, you both lingered in the silence, the awkwardness palpable but not entirely uncomfortable. It was almost endearing in a way, knowing that you both felt the same jittery nerves after your first offline date.

“So, um… are we gonna keep doing this?” you finally asked, your voice quiet, but the question was bold enough to fill the space between you. “Meeting up offline, I mean?”

You could almost hear the smile in his voice when he responded. “I hope so,” he said, his tone soft but filled with sincerity. “I liked seeing you in person.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you smiled to yourself, feeling the butterflies you thought had calmed down stir up again. The simple statement carried so much more weight now that you had shared a meal together, exchanged shy glances, and actually existed in the same space, side by side.

“Me too,” you whispered, almost as if admitting it out loud would somehow make the moment more real. And in that moment, as awkward as it was, you couldn’t help but feel that this was the start of something new—something that stretched beyond the screen, into the real world where you both could truly be together.

The silence returned, but this time, it was softer, more comfortable, as if the awkwardness had melted away, leaving behind a warmth that lingered long after the call would end.

“I guess… I’ll talk to you later?” you said after a beat, your voice lighter now, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Yeah,” he replied. “But not too much later, okay?”

You laughed softly, feeling the last bit of tension slip away. “Not too much later,” you promised, before finally hanging up, the warmth of his voice still lingering in your chest as you walked back to your room.

The moment you stepped back into the room, Semi was there, perched on her bed, looking like she had been waiting for this exact moment. Her arms were crossed, and that mischievous grin was unmistakable—she wasn’t buying your ‘job offer’ story for a second.

“So…” she dragged the word out, her eyes narrowing playfully as you tried your best to keep a straight face. “Was that really a job offer?”

You sighed, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks as you tried to avoid eye contact. "Yeah, sure, let's call it that," you muttered, slipping your phone into your pocket as you moved towards your bed, hoping she'd let it go. But you knew better—Semi was never one to back off when there was potential for gossip, especially when it involved your love life.

She let out a dramatic scoff. “Come on, you can’t fool me. You were talking to Heeseung, weren’t you?” She jumped up from her bed, practically bouncing over to you, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Tell me everything—what did he say? Did he ask to meet up again? Were you blushing the entire time like you are now?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands as you felt the heat in your cheeks deepen. “It wasn’t anything special, okay?” you mumbled through your hands, though you knew your attempt to downplay the call wouldn’t work. “We just… talked about getting home, that’s all.”

Semi was relentless, of course. “Uh-huh, sure,” she teased, pulling your hands away from your face so she could get a proper look at you. “You’re totally hiding something. I can see it! You’ve got that weird ‘I just talked to my crush’ glow. Did he say something cute? Oh my god, he did, didn’t he?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how easily she read you, and finally, you gave in, sitting down on your bed with a defeated sigh. “Fine, fine. He was sweet, okay? It was just a normal conversation, but it felt… I don’t know. Different now, I guess?”

Semi raised an eyebrow, sitting beside you with her full attention. “Different how?” she asked, her voice softer now, less teasing and more curious.

“Well,” you began, thinking back to the way Heeseung’s voice had sounded over the phone, a mix of awkwardness and warmth. “It’s just… after seeing him in person, everything feels a little more real, you know? Like, all this time we’ve been talking online, but now it’s not just a screen between us anymore. I’ve actually met him, and it’s… weird but in a good way?”

Semi grinned. “So, you’re saying you’re falling even harder for him now, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “I mean, he’s really cute in person,” you admitted, your heart fluttering just at the thought of how Heeseung had looked when you met. “And he remembered what I liked to eat, which was unexpected and kind of… sweet.”

Semi gasped dramatically, clutching her chest as if she were swooning. “He remembered your favorite food? Oh, girl, you’ve hit the jackpot!” She nudged you playfully, her excitement infectious. “What’s next, huh? When’s your next date? Are we already planning the wedding?”

You laughed, shoving her lightly. “Calm down! We haven’t even planned a second date yet.”

“But you will,” she said, her grin widening as if she were already planning everything out in her head. “I mean, how could you not? You’ve been talking to this guy for two years, and now that you’ve met in person, the sparks are basically flying!”

You blushed again, but this time, it wasn’t just because of the teasing. Semi wasn’t wrong. Something had shifted, and the idea of seeing Heeseung again now that you’d met face-to-face made your heart race in the best way possible.

“Well, I don’t know,” you said softly, feeling a bit shy as you thought about it. “I guess we’ll see what happens. But yeah… I think I’d like to see him again.”

Semi squealed, throwing her arms around you in a sudden hug. “Yay! I’m so happy for you! My best friend is getting married!”

“Stop!” you protested, laughing as you wriggled out of her embrace. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Not yet,” she echoed, wagging her eyebrows at you. “But soon, I bet.”

YOU STOOD AT THE ENTRANCE OF HEESEUNG'S APARTMENT, clutching the bouquet of flowers nervously. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and a million thoughts rushed through your head. Was this really a good idea? Going to a guy’s place you had only met offline once? What if he turned out to be… well, something out of a true crime story? Your mind raced with irrational fears, imagining worst-case scenarios, but then you shook your head.

No, it’s Heeseung, you reminded yourself. The same guy you’d been talking to for two years. The guy who remembered your favorite food and texted you goodnight religiously. You weren’t going to let a silly rush of nerves ruin this. Besides, wasn’t this the next step? Taking things from the screen to real life?

Taking a deep breath, you pressed the button for his apartment number. A small buzz rang through, followed by a few agonizing moments of silence until you heard footsteps approaching from the other side. When the door finally swung open, you were greeted with the sight of Heeseung, looking as relaxed as ever. He was dressed in a simple black t-shirt and shorts, the definition of casual, but somehow he still looked like he had stepped straight out of a magazine photoshoot.

You blinked for a second, momentarily stunned. When did you become such a simp?

“Come in, please,” Heeseung’s voice broke through your thoughts. His smile was warm and welcoming, and before you could even process what was happening, he was taking the bouquet from your hands.

“Crap—wait, I mean—this is for you!” you stammered, awkwardly snatching the flowers back only to hand them to him again. The exchange was so clumsy that you both burst into laughter, the tension easing ever so slightly.

"You really didn’t have to," he said softly, holding the flowers as if they were the most precious thing in the world.

“I did have to,” you insisted, your voice sheepish. “It’s my first time here. Showing up empty-handed just felt… wrong.”

Heeseung chuckled at your seriousness, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned down and pinched your cheeks lightly. “You sound just like you do online,” he teased, flashing that signature smile that made your heart race.

“Hey, quit it,” you protested weakly, swatting his hand away, but the blush creeping up your neck betrayed you. You were still getting used to seeing him in person, but that didn’t stop the familiar warmth from spreading through your chest at his touch.

The two of you stood there, just outside his apartment, for what felt like longer than necessary. It wasn’t until Heeseung cleared his throat that you realized you were still blocking the doorway.

“Right, shoes off,” you mumbled to yourself, quickly stepping out of your sneakers as you followed him inside. His apartment was small but cozy, with a lived-in feel that made you instantly relax. You noticed a few potted plants by the window, a couple of books scattered across the coffee table, and a faint scent of something familiar—ramen?—lingering in the air.

You perched yourself on his couch, feeling a little too aware of your movements as you sat down. The cushions were soft, and the space felt intimate. Your eyes darted around the room, trying to focus on anything but your own nerves. From the corner of your eye, you could see Heeseung moving about in the kitchen, preparing something.

After a few minutes, he returned with two steaming bowls of ramen, setting them down on the table in front of you. "Sorry, I didn’t have time to prepare anything fancy,” he apologized, scratching the back of his neck with an awkward smile. “Hope this is okay?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in your chest unraveling at how normal it all felt. “Are you kidding? This is perfect,” you reassured him, reaching for the chopsticks. “Nothing beats instant ramen, especially when you’re too lazy to cook.”

Heeseung laughed along with you, sitting down next to you on the couch. He was close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, but not so close that it felt overwhelming. It was nice. Comfortable. Almost like the two of you had done this a hundred times before.

He turned on a movie—some romantic comedy you’d both agreed on—and as the opening credits rolled, you found yourself stealing glances at him. The way he absentmindedly blew on his ramen before taking a bite, his brow furrowed in concentration like it was the most important task in the world. He was so focused, so natural, and it made you smile without even realizing it.

But when you dared to look over again, you caught him doing the same—his eyes already on you. The two of you locked eyes for a moment, chopsticks hovering in mid-air, before quickly looking away, your cheeks burning.

You could hear him chuckle softly beside you, and that only made you blush harder. It was awkward, but in the most endearing way. You were both adjusting to this new reality, trying to navigate the uncharted waters of an offline relationship.

The movie played in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. The real entertainment was the silent communication happening between the two of you—the subtle glances, the shy smiles, the way your knees brushed against each other accidentally, and how neither of you moved away afterward.

You took another bite of ramen, trying to focus on the noodles instead of the fluttering in your stomach, but it was impossible to ignore how close Heeseung was. Every time he shifted slightly or laughed at something in the movie, your heart skipped a beat.

Halfway through the movie, you found yourself glancing at him again—only this time, you caught him looking at you too. This time, instead of looking away, you both just… stayed like that. His eyes softened, and for a brief moment, the world outside of this small, cozy apartment disappeared.

It was just you and him, sharing an awkward, silly, but undeniably romantic second date in the simplest way possible. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this content, this happy. And as Heeseung’s lips curled into a small smile, you couldn’t help but think that this—this quiet, unspoken connection—was worth every bit of awkwardness.

Maybe this offline thing wasn’t so bad after all.

But then you were proven wrong yet again as a sharp sting of the hot ramen hitting your skin made you gasp as you shot up from your seat, dropping the cup back onto the table. “Ow…” you winced, instinctively pulling at your shirt where the soup had splashed. The yellow-ish broth stained your top instantly, spreading in a not-so-fashionable blotch across your chest. Your heart sank.

Before you could even process the situation, Heeseung had already grabbed a glass of water from the table and, in a flash, poured it over the stained area, dousing you in the process.

You froze, eyes wide in disbelief as the cold water seeped through your shirt. “What… what are you doing?” you squeaked, half laughing, half mortified.

“I—I thought it would help cool it down!" Heeseung stammered, his eyes wide with genuine panic, clearly unsure if he'd done the right thing. “Are you okay? Did it burn you badly?”

You blinked a few times, the absurdity of the situation finally sinking in. The date had gone from mildly awkward to full-blown disaster in a matter of seconds. "I’m fine... just soaked." You looked down at the mess of ramen and water now pooled on the floor and clinging to your ruined shirt. Embarrassment surged through you like a wave.

"I'm so sorry," you mumbled, your voice small as you glanced up at him, your cheeks burning.

Heeseung, however, didn’t seem fazed at all by the chaos. In fact, a soft chuckle escaped his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head. “No, no, don’t be. It’s not your fault. It happens. We’re good.”

You bit your lip, still feeling like a complete klutz. “But... I ruined the date.”

Heeseung stepped closer, gently placing a reassuring hand on your arm. “Hey, it’s just ramen. I’m not mad. Accidents happen. Besides," he added, his lips curling into a playful smile, "it’s kinda memorable, don’t you think?”

You let out a nervous laugh, but the tight knot of embarrassment in your stomach refused to ease. “Yeah, memorable as in me looking like a complete mess.”

His eyes softened as he squeezed your hand. “You don’t look like a mess. But… you should probably change. It must be super uncomfortable.” He winced, eyeing your soaked shirt.

You glanced down at your shirt, the bright orange stain glaring back at you, and let out a resigned sigh. “Yeah… this isn't exactly ideal.”

“Wait here. I’ll grab you something,” Heeseung said before quickly heading toward his bedroom. He disappeared for a moment, rummaging around, and you stood awkwardly, trying not to feel like a complete fool. The entire scene played in your head on repeat. Could this date have gone any worse? First, the awkwardness of meeting offline, now this?

Heeseung returned, holding out a neatly folded oversized t-shirt. “Here, it might be a little big, but it’ll be more comfortable than a wet, ramen-soaked top.”

You hesitated, looking between him and the shirt. It felt weird to wear his clothes, but then again, what choice did you have? You took it from him with a shy smile. “Thanks…”

“Bathroom’s that way,” he gestured toward the hallway, scratching the back of his neck. “Take your time.”

You nodded and walked toward the bathroom, feeling a bit self-conscious as you clutched the t-shirt to your chest. Once inside, you peeled off your wet shirt, the smell of ramen clinging to the fabric. You sighed, staring at yourself in the mirror for a moment. How had you managed to turn such a simple date into a complete disaster?

Pulling Heeseung’s oversized t-shirt over your head, you were surprised at how soft and comfortable it was. It smelled faintly like him—clean and warm, with a hint of cologne. You couldn’t help but feel a little flutter in your chest at the thought of wearing his clothes. It was oddly intimate.

You took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door, stepping out into the living room where Heeseung was waiting. As soon as he saw you, his eyes widened, and a deep blush crept up his neck to his cheeks.

“What? Is it bad?” you asked, feeling your face heat up under his gaze.

Heeseung shook his head quickly, though he seemed a little lost for words. “No, no... you look... you look really cute,” he mumbled, his voice dropping a notch as he rubbed the back of his neck again. The sight of you in his oversized t-shirt had clearly caught him off guard.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words. “Oh…” was all you managed to say, feeling a mix of embarrassment and something else—something warm that spread from your chest to your cheeks.

“Sorry, I mean, I didn’t expect—uh—anyway, you’re good, right?” Heeseung cleared his throat, quickly changing the subject to save both of you from further awkwardness.

You nodded, tugging at the hem of the t-shirt. “Yeah, this is… way better, thank you.” You paused, biting your lip before adding, “Sorry again for ruining the date.”

Heeseung shook his head, stepping closer to you, his expression soft. “Y/N, you didn’t ruin anything. It’s just ramen, seriously. Besides…” He smiled, his voice growing softer, “I kind of like this. It feels real. I mean, we’ve been talking for two years, but this... this is different. It’s nice.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and suddenly, the awkwardness of the situation didn’t feel so bad anymore. You met his eyes, feeling a warmth settle between the two of you. Maybe this date wasn’t perfect, but it was real. It was messy, and awkward, and human.

And somehow, that made it feel right.

“Okay,” you said quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.”

Heeseung grinned, his dimple showing as he teased, “Besides, you still owe me another date. One without any ramen casualties.”

You laughed, feeling the tension lift. “Deal. But next time, no ramen.”

“Deal,” he repeated, his eyes twinkling as he glanced at you in his t-shirt. “But you might have to keep that shirt. It looks too good on you.”

Your face flushed again, but this time, the embarrassment was replaced by something softer, something sweeter.

“I should leave,” you muttered, letting out a heavy sigh as the reality of the night settled in.

“Already?” Heeseung asked, a hint of disappointment lacing his voice. The look on his face tugged at your heart, a mix of longing and vulnerability that made it hard to stand your ground.

“It’s getting late,” you said softly, though the truth was that you didn’t want to leave—not yet. The air between you was charged, electric with the unspoken feelings that had been simmering just beneath the surface. You hesitated at the door, your hand resting on the knob, knowing this moment was slipping away.

But just as you were about to step outside, you felt Heeseung’s warm hand gently but firmly grasp your wrist, pulling you back into the cozy space of his apartment. Your back hit the wall softly, and the breath caught in your throat as you looked up at him, surprise etched on your features.

“W-what are you…?” you stammered, your heart racing.

His expression mirrored your own, a blend of nervousness and determination. “Can we—can we kiss before you leave? It’s okay if you refuse, after all, we’ve just…”

His words faded as you nodded, the fluttering of your heart drowning out any hesitation. The tension between you felt palpable, hanging in the air like a fragile bubble ready to burst. He didn’t need another invitation; he was leaning closer, and in an instant, your lips met.

You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, his hand finding its way to the back of your head, cradling you as he kissed you with an intensity that left you breathless. Your fingers instinctively tangled in his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingers as you leaned into him, surrendering to the moment.

It was everything you had dreamt of—sweet, passionate, and full of an unspoken promise. His lips moved against yours, gentle yet urgent, a blend of longing and affection. The world outside faded away; it was just the two of you, lost in each other.

As he pulled away, a thin line of saliva connected your mouths, a testament to the fervor of your kiss. Your foreheads rested together, both of you gasping for breath, the intensity of the moment still lingering in the air. His arms wrapped securely around you, holding you close as if he were afraid to let go.

“You taste… sweet,” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips.

“But we just ate spicy ramen,” you replied, a soft laugh escaping your lips, mingling with the lightness of the moment.

“True,” he conceded, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “But your lips taste sweet.”

“Stop,” you muttered, the heat of embarrassment flooding your cheeks. You couldn’t help but bury your face in your hands, shyly hiding from his gaze. The reality of what had just happened washed over you, mixing exhilaration with a wave of shyness that made your heart race all over again.

Heeseung chuckled softly, clearly amused by your reaction. “Hey, hey, look at me,” he urged gently, reaching out to pull your hands away from your face. His fingers brushed against your skin, a tender caress that sent shivers down your spine. “You okay?”

You nodded, a shy smile peeking through your hands as you met his eyes, the warmth of his gaze melting away your insecurities. “Yeah, just… that was unexpected.”

“Unexpected, but good, right?” Heeseung said, his voice low and sincere, a small grin lighting up his face. “Because I was definitely expecting it to be the highlight of my night.”

Your heart swelled at his words, the sweetness of the moment flooding your senses. “Yeah, definitely a highlight,” you echoed softly, and the sincerity in your voice made him smile even wider.

“Then how about a second round? Before you leave?” Heeseung teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You laughed, playfully rolling your eyes. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“Just making sure we make the most of the time we have,” he replied with a cheeky grin.

THE DAY YOU KNEW WAS COMING HAD FINALLY ARRIVED — Heeseung was about to meet your two best friends, Semi and Heesoo. And while Semi had been excited to finally get a face-to-face with your boyfriend, Heesoo had expressed nothing but suspicion. After all, dating online for two years and only seeing each other in person for a few months? It was enough to make her raise an eyebrow—and ask questions. Lots of questions.

You sat in a cozy corner of a bustling café, the soft hum of conversations and clinking cups providing a calming background, though it didn’t do much to ease the nervous flutter in your stomach. You stole a glance at Heeseung, sitting beside you, his posture a little too stiff as he absentmindedly traced the rim of his cup with his finger. He was trying to act cool, but you could tell he was feeling the pressure.

On the other side of the table, Semi and Heesoo sat like the unofficial board of inquiry. Semi was leaning forward with a grin that made her look like she was ready to pounce on Heeseung with curiosity, while Heesoo leaned back, arms crossed, her sharp gaze already sizing him up. It was like a scene from a movie—only this time, it was your boyfriend in the hot seat.

Semi was the first to break the ice, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she propped her chin on her hand. “Soo… Heeseung,” she began, drawing out his name playfully, “we’ve heard a lot about you. But you know how it is—we’ve gotta see for ourselves. So, first things first—what’s your love language? Is it words of affirmation? Acts of service? And—be honest—have you ever written her a love letter?”

Heeseung blinked, clearly taken off guard by the unexpected question, but a smile soon crept onto his face as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Love language? Uh, I’d say physical touch… and maybe quality time. But, uh, no love letters yet. I’m more of a... text message kind of guy.”

Semi’s grin widened. “Text message? Oh, come on! What’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever texted her, then? Like, we’re talking Shakespearean levels of swoon-worthy.”

You stifled a laugh, burying your face in your hands as Heeseung scratched his head, looking almost bashful. “Well, I don’t know about Shakespeare… but I did once write her this really cheesy line about how her smile makes my heart race.”

Semi let out a dramatic gasp, clutching her heart as if she were swooning. “Oh my god, Heeseung! How do you even deal with all that smoothness, huh?” she teased, turning to you with a wink.

You could feel your face heat up, and you nudged her playfully. “Stop, you’re making him blush!”

But Semi wasn’t done yet. “Alright, real talk now—what’s her weirdest habit that you’ve noticed since meeting in person? Spill it, we won’t tell.”

Heeseung chuckled, his body relaxing slightly as the conversation started to take a lighter turn. “Weirdest habit? Hm… she talks in her sleep. Like, full-on conversations. The first time I heard it, I thought she was awake, but nope. Just dreaming.”

You shot Heeseung a mock glare, covering your face in embarrassment. “Heeseung!”

Semi burst into laughter, clapping her hands. “That is so cute! What does she say? Is she giving TED talks in her sleep or something?”

Heeseung laughed along, shaking his head. “I wish. Usually, it’s just random stuff about food or… her phone charger. One time she asked me if I could ‘bring her the moon,’ and I had no idea if I should answer or not.”

You groaned, hiding behind your hands. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Heeseung grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned in close to you. “Because it’s adorable, that’s why.”

Before you could protest further, Heesoo, who had been quietly observing, finally cleared her throat, signaling it was her turn. She straightened in her seat, her expression more serious than Semi’s as she locked eyes with Heeseung. “Alright, enough of the cutesy stuff. Let’s get to the real questions.”

Semi rolled her eyes playfully, but Heeseung straightened up, clearly sensing that this was going to be more intense. You bit your lip, dreading whatever Heesoo was about to throw at him.

“So,” Heesoo began, her voice calm but firm, “two years of dating online. That’s a long time. How did you know she wasn’t, you know, catfishing you?”

The question hung in the air, and you shot Heesoo a look that screamed, Really? But Heeseung just laughed, easing the tension.

“Well, I mean, we sent pictures sometimes, so I was pretty sure she was real,” he said with a grin. “But, honestly, even if she was catfishing me, I’d probably still fall for her voice.”

Semi made a fake gagging sound. “Oh my god, this is too much. You guys are like a Hallmark movie come to life.”

Heesoo, however, wasn’t satisfied yet. “Okay, let’s say you two stay together and get serious. Like, really serious. How do you plan to handle long-distance, or are you gonna move closer to each other? What’s your five-year plan here?”

The intensity of the question made your heart race. You hadn’t even fully discussed long-term plans with Heeseung yet—at least not in any serious detail. But Heeseung didn’t miss a beat.

“I think long-distance isn’t something we can avoid entirely, but we’ve made it work for two years already. It’ll be challenging, but I’m willing to put in the effort. And as for moving… well, it’s something we’ll have to talk about, but I’m open to whatever’s best for both of us.”

Heesoo tilted her head, studying his answer. “So you’d move? Leave your life behind for her?”

Heeseung nodded, his gaze unwavering. “If it made sense for us and it was the best decision, yeah. I’d move. I want to make sure she’s happy, no matter where that takes us.”

You felt your heart flutter at his words, and Semi sighed dramatically. “Okay, okay, Heeseung, you’re setting the bar way too high for other guys.”

But Heesoo wasn’t done yet. “Alright, one last question.” She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing slightly. “What’s your biggest flaw? And I mean a real flaw—none of that ‘I’m too caring’ nonsense.”

Heeseung paused, clearly taken aback by the directness of the question, but he didn’t shy away from it. “My biggest flaw? Hm… I’d say I tend to overthink things. Sometimes, I worry too much about doing the right thing, and it makes me second-guess myself.”

Heesoo raised an eyebrow, clearly satisfied with his honesty, and finally leaned back in her chair, her lips curling into a small, approving smile. “Alright. You’ve passed—for now.”

You exhaled in relief, finally letting go of the tension in your shoulders as the interrogation seemed to be over. Semi clapped her hands together, grinning. “Well, Heeseung, you survived! Congratulations. We’ll go easy on you next time—maybe.”

Heeseung chuckled, turning to you with a playful smile. “That wasn’t so bad. I think I can handle them.”

You smiled back, feeling your heart swell with affection. “You did great. I was kind of worried they’d scare you off.”

Heeseung leaned in closer, his voice soft and teasing. “It’ll take more than that to scare me away.”

Your cheeks flushed at his words, and you nudged him playfully. “Stop being so smooth.”

Semi, clearly not done with teasing, leaned in with a mischievous grin. “Okay, but seriously, Heeseung. Do you think you could beat her in a game of Mario Kart? That’s the real test.”

Heeseung laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Oh, I’ve already tried. She destroyed me.”

You shrugged with a grin. “What can I say? I’m competitive.”

Heeseung chuckled, shaking his head. “And that’s why I love you.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and you felt your heart skip a beat, your breath catching in your throat. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but in front of your friends, it felt different—more real, more special.

Semi let out a dramatic gasp, fanning herself. “Alright, that’s it. You two are officially too cute for me.”

Heesoo smirked, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, we’re done here. But, Heeseung, remember—if you ever hurt her, we’ll find you.”

Heeseung grinned, nodding. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

THE SOFT GLOW OF STREETLIGHTS REFLECTED OFF THE THIN LAYER OF SNOW THAT HAD BEGUN TO BLANKET THE SIDEWALKS, creating a quiet, almost magical atmosphere. It was one of those evenings where the world seemed to slow down, where time stretched out in front of you, and all that mattered was the warmth of Heeseung’s hand, firmly intertwined with yours, as the two of you walked side by side. You could feel the cold bite of the wind, but it hardly registered, not when you were this close to him, not when his presence radiated warmth.

His binnie was dusted with the tiniest specks of snowflakes, and every now and then, a flurry would land on his dark hair peeking out from underneath, adding to the charm of the moment. You stole a glance at him, your heart swelling at the sight—his cheeks flushed slightly from the cold, his breath coming out in soft puffs of condensation. He was fumbling with his keys, his brows furrowed in concentration, and the sight made you smile.

Heeseung noticed, catching you looking at him, and his lips quirked into a curious, soft grin. “What are you thinking about?” he asked, his voice gentle but carrying a hint of playfulness. He finally managed to unlock the door, but instead of stepping inside, he paused, letting the question hang in the air, waiting for your answer. His eyes were on you now, all of his attention focused, as if he could sense the weight behind your unspoken thoughts.

You hesitated for a moment, biting your lower lip, before speaking softly. “Just that… we probably wouldn't have such a lovely relationship if we didn’t agree to meet offline. I mean, we would have a relationship—but maybe not like this.”

Heeseung’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, his amusement clearly visible as his breath hitched from the cold, but before you could say anything more, he was pulling you inside, shutting the door behind you with a soft click. The warmth of his apartment enveloped you immediately, but the contrast between the chilly night and the sudden comfort inside felt almost surreal.

He let out a low chuckle, his voice filled with disbelief. “It’s literally freezing outside, and that’s what you’re thinking about?” Heeseung raised an eyebrow as he slipped off your jacket, his fingers brushing lightly against your arms in the process. You could feel the heat from his touch, even through the thick fabric, and it sent a shiver up your spine that had nothing to do with the cold. He looked down at you, his lips curving into that teasing smile you’d come to know so well.

Before you could respond, you reached up, your fingers gently brushing the snow off the tip of his nose. “You have snow here,” you muttered, your voice soft, almost breathy, as you leaned in slightly to brush away the last remnants of snow from his cheeks.

Heeseung’s smile widened, his eyes softening as he tilted his head closer, nuzzling your nose with his own in the most affectionate way, as if you were a couple of playful kittens. “This method is better,” he murmured, his breath mingling with yours as he spoke, his lips barely grazing your skin. The closeness was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and airy.

“You’re weird,” you teased, rolling your eyes as you attempted to step back, but Heeseung wasn’t having any of it. Before you could escape, his arms wrapped around you, lifting you off the ground in one swift motion.

Your giggles filled the room as you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, your heart skipping a beat at the suddenness of it all. Heeseung grinned up at you, his lips brushing against yours as he planted a few light kisses, each one sending a ripple of warmth through your chest.

“You’re so tiny,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a murmur as he carried you toward his bedroom. He nudged the door open with his foot, never breaking his gaze from yours, and the sheer confidence in the way he handled you made your pulse quicken.

He gently laid you down on the bed, his body hovering over yours as he climbed up, his knees pressing into the mattress on either side of you. You could feel the weight of his presence, the heat radiating off him as he pinned you beneath him.

For a moment, all you could do was stare at each other, the intimacy of the moment stretching out, thick and palpable. His eyes searched yours, and you could see the glint of mischief hiding behind the warmth in his gaze.

“Heesoo and Semi are going to kill you if you do something,” you teased, though the smile on your lips betrayed your words. You ran your fingers along the sharp line of his jaw, tracing the smooth skin, feeling the way his body tensed under your touch.

Heeseung leaned in, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck as he pressed soft, lingering kisses, each one sending shivers down your spine. “Like what?” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and teasing, the sound of it sending a wave of warmth flooding through you.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the butterflies that swirled in your stomach. “You know what I mean,” you muttered, pouting slightly, but before you could say more, he captured your lips with his, his kiss silencing your protest. His lips were warm, soft, and insistent, and you found yourself melting into him, completely forgetting what you were even trying to argue about.

Then, in one quick movement, he shifted, flipping the two of you so that you were now on top, straddling him. You gasped, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders for balance as you adjusted to the sudden change in position.

“Woah,” you breathed, your eyes wide in surprise as you looked down at him.

Heeseung just grinned up at you, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. “I’ll settle for cuddles,” he said, his voice softening as he leaned up to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead. His teasing tone had given way to something more tender, more intimate, and the affection in his voice made your heart flutter.

“You’re seriously such an overreactor,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he held you against him, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath you.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your cheek pressing against his chest as you relaxed into his embrace, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear. The sound was soothing, grounding, and you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of peace as you lay there, wrapped up in him.

“Am I heavy?” you asked playfully, lifting your head slightly to look down at him, your lips curving into a teasing smile.

Heeseung’s grin widened, his hands tightening around your waist as he pulled you even closer, his breath warm against your skin. “What? No,” he muttered, laughing softly. “If anything, you’re way too light.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at your lips. You leaned down, capturing his lips in a soft kiss, your fingers threading through his hair as you deepened it. He responded immediately, his arms wrapping around you tighter, as if he never wanted to let you go.

The snow continued to fall outside, but inside, wrapped in Heeseung’s arms, you felt nothing but warmth. And as the two of you lay there, tangled up in each other, you couldn’t help but think that even though the world outside was cold and quiet, in this moment, everything felt perfect.

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dead-boys-club · 12 days ago

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† what do you want? : the fatui.

❥ scenario: answering a simple question. ❥ no triggers ❥ i don't have any beta readers - you get what you get. ❥ taglist: @mimis-happiest-day

"what do you want from me?" the words slip out, trembling in the cold. your voice is barely louder than a whisper, as if the weight of the question itself could shatter the silence around you. they stare back—each gaze colder or hotter, more calculating or more devouring than the last. whatever their answers, you know the fatui don’t give anything freely.

❥ arlecchino.

her gaze remained sharp as you stared at her, cutting through you like glass. "what do i want?" she repeated, almost mocking, but there's a softness - she thought over your words. "everything," she finally says, her hand reaching to trace over your jaw with the tip of her nails. "your loyalty, your strength, your heart. and, only if you're strong enough, your soul." her words are both a demand and devotion, the only way she would deliver them.

❥ dottore.

he chuckles, the sound low and unhinged. "what do i want?" he purrs in amusement. he takes your hand to hold it open, his thumb rested against your pulse. "to see what makes you tick, of course. to pull you apart, piece by piece - and then, perhaps, if you're good.." he trails off for a moment, his smile mischievous. "i'll put you back together, better than you ever were."

❥ childe.

he grins, a mischievous glint to his eyes. "what do i want? hm.." he echoes, moving closer, voice playful but laced with a surprising depth. "i want everything you've got - every laugh, every secret, every scar." his hand finds yours, fingers threading between your own. :i want to fight beside you, protect you, and maybe.. just maybe, find another reason to stop fighting."

❥ pantalone.

his smile is knowing as it forms, eyes shining with something dark and calculating. "ah, my dear, you know very well what i want." he steps closer, fingers finding your cheek, his gaze holding a weight you couldn't name. "loyalty, love - such beautiful words." his hand lingers a beat too long. "but, what i truly want.. is to see how far you'll go for me."

❥ signora.

her gaze is fierce as always, though tempered by something gentler, softer than her usual demeanor. "what do i want?' her voice is barely audible and she pauses, eyeing you closely. "i want to burn the world down, watch it all turn to ash - with you by my side. you're the one spark i never expected," she adds, a rare smile gracing her lips. ❥ scaramouche.

he scoffs, arms crossing in his usual fashion, acting like your question offends him. his tone is biting and mocking as he repeats your question. "i want you to stop asking stupid questions." but he looks away, letting out a deep sigh, annoyed. "you should know by now.. i wouldn't keep you around if i didn't think you were important."

❥ columbina.

her smile is serene, unsettling so, as if she sees far beyond you. "what do i want?" she hums, thinking over the answers as her fingers dance against your shoulder. "i want you, my songbird. to sing for me, to shatter the silence. most of all.." her voice drops, becoming a whisper, like the next words were a deep secret. "i want you to stay, forever bound to this melody only we share."

❥ pierro.

his gaze is unreadable, maybe solemn if you had to choose a word, carrying to weight of worlds and beyond. he repeats your words, considering the question. "loyalty. strength. is that not what everyone wants? but with you.." his hand fingers your shoulder, steadying and grounding you both. "i want.. peace." there's a softness to his voice, a rare vulnerability that you deemed impossible. "stay besides me, and let us carve a legacy that will never be forgotten."

❥ sandrone.

her head tilts, observing you with an eerie, calculating gaze. she always looked at you as if you were a piece of her collection. she repeats the words, quiet and detached, in a way that made you feel like she didn't quite understand. "i want you to stay perfectly still, exactly as you are. i've never been fond of things that break too easily." he fingers lift, tracing your cheek bone, a possessive, chilling touch. "for you, i might make an exception. just don't disappoint me."

❥ capitano.

the weight of his voice is that of unspoken promises, deep and quiet, a rumble if nothing else. "what do i want?' he asks, his tone unwavering but something told you he'd never been asked such a thing. "i want you to stand beside me without fear. to see the world through your eyes and remember what it is i'm fighting for." a gloved hand rested on your upper arm, a surprisingly gentle touch. "and, you're willing, i want you.. as my reason to keep moving forward."

#fatui harbingers #the fatui x reader #the fatui #arlecchino x reader #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #pantalone x reader #la signora x reader #scaramouche x reader #columbina x reader #pierro x reader #sandrone x reader #capitano x reader

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persicipen · 1 month ago

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emotionally charged sex ノ zhongli

₊ ˙ ⊹ . morax fakes his death to escape the erosion that would otherwise eat his soul and spirit. to have his plan succeed, he had to keep it secret even from you, his beloved of many years. now that it’s revealed to you, you approach zhongli after he unexpectedly shows up in liyue harbour after days you spent on mourning him.

ৎ୭ — · · 4.6k ノ afab gn reader — sponsored through @ficsforgaza project ノ reader is a long-living adeptus loyal to geo archon ノ zhongli shapeshifts into a half-dragon because reader is into it lol ノ size kink . big dragon dick ofc ノ lots of biting and marking ノ teasing and playful zhongli ノ unprotected sex . cumming inside ノ emotional confessions etc.

This felt like a betrayal. The worst kind.

The afternoon sun was the witness of your meltdown as it seeped through the intricate timberwork of the windows, liquid gold pouring on the floors and turning dust into diamonds dancing in the stuffy air moved only by your screams and wails. A heartbreaking serenade to the one and only you thought dead — standing before you like a pillar of stone, accepting the tantrum and tears thrown at him.

To see his extended cobalt hands, now, of all times, feels more like a curse, a violent reminder that you cannot compare to his longevity, to his wisdom. If he’s not willing to share his plans with you, you’re no different from any of his servants, any of the people of Liyue. A little fickle of life along the shining thread of history, nothing more than a name that appears and disappears when the time comes.

If this is the treatment you get after being told you’re the most precious gem laid upon his open palms, his one and only, the other half he’s been missing for centuries before he has finally found you, then what’s the point of feeling these heavy sobs inside your lungs? What’s the point of moving, of looking, of trying when it can all be gone in an instant?

To be together with him.

Zhongli, Morax, Rex Lapis, Geo Archon… No matter the title, no matter the name, you know him for who he is.

For he’s someone you love.

He draws his touch down your body, his carbon fingers leaving a golden dust along their path as they sink into the soft side you so willingly arch to get the most out of the fleeting contact. Such apology will not work on you, but he’s aware. He’s not trying to make you forgive him, no. What is stirring within his cunning mind is to make you submit once again to his rule and deem him as godlike, as you won’t focus any more on the commotion caused by his faked death. Oh, he may listen later in delight to your complaints that he should not use his divinity against you this way. To prove you still love him beneath the disappointed visage.

Unavoidable sensation that blooms from his bones whenever he sees you like that — frustrated and on the verge of tears — still clinging to the might and the faint glow of his geo powers like a lost soul towards the light. He’s a little unserious about it, a tiny guilty pleasure he excuses whenever he has the time to annoy you, as if you two weren’t bound by the contract older than some riverbeds cutting through the plains.

Seems like you also forget about it in such heated moments as this one.

The hollowness left after he draws his touch away has you pursue him with your hips, chasing the bittersweet heat of his palms pressed flat against your chest, close to the steaming heart that lives inside your ribcage.

“Ah, so I was right, in the end?” He smiles faintly, eyes shining softly, no strong emotions found in his voice. “Missing me dearly these past few days, were you? A loyal thing you are, maybe even the most loyal.”

“My Archon, you cannot simply— no, this is exactly what is hurting me the most. That you can fool everyone into believing you are gone. Even me…” How can you maintain the discussion when your voice breaks down at the selfish thought of what he may think of you?

Are you not overstepping, claiming that you are more important than the precious people of Liyue? Or is this exactly where you should hold your ground, reminding your Archon, your dear man in this life, that he should love you more?

“I wish you had told me about it first… I want to help you. But all I’ve been doing these past few days is trying to digest the news you have given me… too late.”

“Love,” His voice wraps around you like a dark silk, strong yet so gentle with you as if you’re his beloved vase made of paper-thin glass.

How tacky of him to consider such endearment out of nowhere will work on you instead of stirring your anger further into a frenzy.

Silent, giving him the benefit of doubt, you let him continue.

“Don’t cry, my love. I should have thought better before withholding this burden from you. I needed to do it in order to keep you all safe.”

The very next moment, his hold is on your face, soft enough not to leave marks, but also steady enough to sink into the swell of your cheeks. A careful thumb sweeps the skin under your eye, his gaze a blazing gold melting the glossy surface, bringing out the scent of salt — the forevermore bittersweet memory of one of the gods you two used to invite to sit by the same table, no longer here — and thin wet trails that form even when you squeeze your eyelids shut.

“I know you must’ve been worried.” His voice is silky as always, as if speaking through layers of fine fibre he himself weaved with his obsidian hands. “I firmly believe you trust me enough to understand that I did what was necessary. And that I intend to repay each hour you’ve spent fretting for my life.”

The intention is pure, yes. With the last breath uttered with the finished sentence, he leans in to kiss you. A chaste gesture, like a greeting, rather than a confession of centuries old desire. No teeth, no tongue — the undying devotion lingers in the press of lips on yours. It’s an intimate promise to correct the misjudged solitude he’s mistakenly given you.

At first you’re taken aback by his behaviour, your gaze following him, along with your body when he leans back and into the cushions behind him, a river pulling you with the current.

His silken touch dances over your skin, setting sparks as they go down to your jawline and towards your neck, palm slowly settling around the curve of your throat.

“Is this my punishment? To endure your kind caresses with a heart that is still furious?” You whisper in a tame voice, asking for more.

Though you wish to appear unbothered, it still hurts. The golden serpent you are, slithering to make your way into his arms, contradicting the words hanging in the stuffy air between your mouths.

You crave him.

Even if you want to make him feel guilty, you still have been missing him too much to pass up on this opportunity to have him closer, to feel his skin on yours again.

“That’s exactly what I had in mind.” Zhongli nods in a short move, observing your reactions.

When you don’t push him away, his smile grows warmer, stretching lips and taking away the focus from those smouldering golden eyes you often fall into like a rabbit in a trap.

“Will you let me make it up to you? To be reminded how much you mean to me, so that we can share in happiness once more.”

“Yes. You better…”

The touch of his kiss lingers there, though you’re no longer aware of it as he prolongs the contact with your cheek — rough like granite despite his gentle nature — and you cannot but laugh a little at the idea of an ancient dragon trying to seduce you into forgiveness.

How do you not notice his scaly hands undoing the ribbons holding your robes in place, piece by piece, until he has access to your naked skin?

Your nervous laughter stirs an emotion in him, pulling him out of this feigned playfulness, and he exhales.

Amidst the desperate breaths losing rhythm, escape words you two shared twice, maybe thrice in the past millennium. They ring within your mind, pleasured moans like prayers for him, mixed with your faint hisses and mutters of his titles. It’s a perfect calligraphy written on the wall of your hearts that separates you from others, because you’re no one but his — whether you live as his servant or his lover.

Always marked with his name, carved into your flesh.

With the growing desire and your fingers running up and down his sides, catching on the growing scales from beneath the tunic, swelling his slender body into a dominant entity, you grab onto his marbled muscles, suddenly aware of the difference that he assesses between your silhouettes. That is he who’s given an ability to shapeshift, to mould his visage into whatever he desires; you remain the same, forever easy to spot for his aureate irises.

“Oh? Do I sense a preference for roughness this time?” He says in a mirthful tone, placing his hand over yours when you try to adjust your touch. “Why the rush?”

“Your arrogance— no, I will not indulge your humours.” You sigh with a pout as you shift closer, thighs snug around his waist, fists riding up his shoulders, opening up the tunic in the process. “First you must satisfy me before I consider remission.”

There’s a fond laugh that comes from his throat, pushing a tiny puff of warm air on your face. “Ah, so we’ve come to terms. Does it mean I have your permission to please you however I want?”

You freeze at the notion he presents, because it could be both your favourite game and a way to completely break your mind and body when he inevitably slips into his lustful fantasy. Of course, you don’t oppose such ideas when your own vision for the upcoming events is based on similar principles, but the doubt makes you narrow your eyes at him.

“I allow it.”

“My my…” His lips touch your earlobe, a chuckle stirring deep in his chest when he hears you whine and feels you squirm in his lap, “You really do desire for something out of the ordinary, don’t you?”

As soon as you open your mouth, Zhongli kisses you, over and over again, down the neck, nibbling on your collarbone while his teeth shape into fangs and his tongue lengthens as it traces a damp trail down your jugular. Soon the sharpness starts to graze your skin, along with the clawed fingers brushing over the front of your body, hard enough to leave vivid lines and slight scratch marks where they got tangled under the flimsy silk of your garment. Yet you only exhale, heated, temperature rising.

The light chafe from his touches sends shivers down your spine as the next follows.

“F-feels nice…” You whisper into the thick air, relaxing, gradually growing needier with every drag of his fingers along your sides, hugging you so tightly that he may as well become one. “More, I want more of you.”

But no matter how sweetly you plead, there’s no rush to his movement. As if he’s calculating every next step in advance, he brings you into a proper embrace, two living beings pressed together — oh how you can feel his heartbeat on your own, matching the rhythm, powerful enough to echo through your ribcage.

When you lay your head on his shoulder, there’s a faint scent of sandalwood emanating from his collarbones. Or maybe it’s the pungent fragrance of the osmanthus wine you’d found him earlier sipping on? Either way, it wraps you up in comfort, enough to dull your senses and not notice a curious touch sneaking between your legs, playfully groping any curve and any angle along the way, squeezing the softness like to measure if you’re still relaxed in his arms.

“You’ve made me worried I would have to take hours to prepare you…” Zhongli says as he hears you exhale heavily, followed by a tiny whine from you when his fingers slowly rub the wetness sticking to the delicate folds. “But you’re wet like never before.”

“Oh, it is—!” You move your hips closer, instinctively seeking out more friction — more of anything he’s willing to give.

Just a little. Please…

Maybe then he’ll slide his hand further in, though instead of listening to your silent request, he whispers about your pussy getting so excited when he’s not around for a while and then back for you to touch him.

The amused voice causes a fire to engulf your face, making you feel how a fresh wave of embarrassment stirs your heart and muddles your mind even more than his palm cupping your mound.

You clutch onto his shoulders and bury your head deeper into his collarbone, letting him lift your hips up and drag a long finger down your slit — something so insignificant to him, yet it has you clenching your thighs and grab tighter, desperate for more, more, more. Enough of that teasing, the fleeting caresses. What you need is to feel him as real and might like stone, pressing on your body with all his weight. But the good and loyal servant you are, you wantonly yelp as he pokes at your entrance, coaxing out of it another rush of wetness.

He shushes you and brings his free hand over your mouth, placing the heel of his palm under your chin, then tilts your head up to watch you. He’s excited to see you squirming and thrashing about in his arms as soon as he plays around your hole, pulls your folds apart and together again.

You inhale harshly through your nose, drooling on the elegant fist that smells faintly of tea leaves as he stops — bringing you down to sit on the growing erection under the half-undressed robes you tried to tear off his fragrant body. There’s nothing to hide from him, no need to disguise the obvious lust dwelling in the quivering breaths when you assess the hefty girth rising underneath your needy cunt. You’re one motion away from making him take his clothes off completely, reveal all the darkness and amber-coloured scales along with the striking yellow irises gazing into your eyes.

But what about you?

You shudder and arch your back when he pulls you closer, almost dropping onto the hard bulge beneath. It’s so difficult to control the desperate jerks of your hips. Delirious before he even takes care of you properly, you use all your strength to bring him down to his knees, messily roll down on the floor together. And he laughs! Laughs at the way you cross your legs behind his back, at how wet you’re making his clothes — eager and loud, almost hissing at him to make up for everything.

The throbbing in your abdomen becomes unbearable. The tension is growing as soon as you feel something coiling around your calf — one of the ribbons holding his robe, now untied and playfully wrapped to squeeze you there. That’s not all of it, no, not with the lustful god who has nothing else but time to waste. He gets comfortable enough to pull out his cock and leave it hanging just above your tense stomach whilst his eyes are busy taking in the visage of yours; mouth hanging open, frenzied, and burning with impatience.

He smiles, and you laugh when you finally, finally get what you want — he pushes himself inside. The feeling of being stretched to the fullest is like no other; it feels almost like the first time you two laid together. It’s a strange kind of happiness to look at his face and see him equally satisfied with the way your warm insides fit his girth.

A pleasure beyond any comparison, unified and shared, because you’re always getting too easily and too wet for him in no time, as if always ready to expect him to change into a dragon of Cor Lapis. He’s still human, though, and you whine to spur him to change, at least partially.

Zhongli takes you fast and hard, desperate even, sliding back and forth until his forehead touches yours. His mouth finds yours once again, teeth tugging at your lower lip, but it doesn’t last long before he has to break the kiss, throwing his head back, grunting. The more he moves his hips, the louder his breaths turn into growls, slow and deep. He’s way too impatient, despite all the games and pleasantries from earlier, grinding his pelvis against yours, missing you just as much as you have missed him.

Soon enough he finds a rhythm that suits him the most — needy, to say it the simplest way. His hand is under your nape, another one reaching down to massage your thigh, just for a few seconds until he allows the pleasure to consume him whole and—

It is pure bliss to hear him moan your name into your neck, and the gold in his veins shimmers brightly.

Then it comes, the best part of your shared intimacy; that strange and unique sensation when the black emblems of his geo powers spiral up his arms, marking the insides of his wrists, clavicles, fanning out on the sides of his neck. The intensity of the sensation varies, from an intense ache when he decides to pull out and ram back inside you in one swift motion to the sharp pain when he clutches your waist, shifting you lower onto his pulsating cock.

Dizzy from pleasure, but instead of relishing in it, you think how easily you could’ve lost it…

“No, please, don’t leave me!” You sob, stricken again with the image of his lifeless body, the always springy serpent body limp against the stone courtyard. An icy blade of a vision amidst the waves of intimate warmth.

“I’m deep inside you. Can’t you feel it well enough?”

“Closer. Deeper, please…”

He forces a kiss on your lips and then does exactly as you wish, pushing himself fiercely into your slick flesh. Balls snugly pressed, taut and heavy, to your skin, just as his girth carves your insides to its form. Throbbing fullness swirls into the all-consuming sensation that throbs down to your toes and tips of fingers, melting in the touch of his sharpened nails.

Like molten gold enveloping whatever it’s poured onto, you cling to him with an incessant longing drawing from your heart. Enough to ignore the subtle abrasions covering your inner thighs when they repeatedly brush the chocolate carbon scales of his waist.

As you see stars and the landscape of Liyue bathed in the hues of red and orange from beyond the terrace, a waning moon, your skin burning with love marks where he nibbled and sucked.

Like a serpentine shadow of a dragon, Zhongli looms over you with his broad shoulders and rich features as you lay spent on the floor, among the dishevelled garments and cushions, leaning to the railing of the seating to gain some composure back, adjusting to having his cock sheathed wholly.

A coy smile peeks from behind the silk fan of your lashes, peering up at him. He holds your cheek tenderly, praising you with a soft hum of satisfaction for having taken him well.

But, of course, you ask him if he thinks this is enough to make up for your temporary separation. To have his soothing voice narrate that the few days felt like forever. You listen with closed eyes and trembling fingers, awed by how this man could have stayed silent about his plan — now a string of compliments weeping down his elegant lips to heal your worries with a honey layer of love.

The thorns still dig into your soul when you realise the permanence of the pain he’s caused you.

But that doesn’t matter right now.

What matters is the bond you share as the burning gaze from beneath the mahogany silk of hair rakes over your body and the shallow gasps you take to soothe the invasion in your lower belly.

“A struggle is what I see. Such a sweetling you are, brave in words yet shaking like a leaf as you try to act as if my cock doesn’t ravage your insides.” Zhongli remarks with a mocking tone, though his eyes twinkle with kindness when you roll yours at him. “Need I remind you, my love, that it’s you who has called upon me deeper?”

But now, with him having grown significantly in size, you’re still considering how much of a challenge this could become. Still, his affection makes your heart throb with want. And, again, you find yourself following the dangerous path leading to the eternity he offers you, with eyes wide open.

You ask him to thrust deeper, pulling his shoulders closer until your fingers sink into the tough substance that is his muscle. A mellow yelp comes from your throat as you feel the heat he radiates overpower your whole body, eclipsing the autumn wind and bringing the smell of dry leaves and bark — reminding you that it was him who shaped the entirety of your shared homeland.

And even if Liyue changes over time, the sight you’re granted tonight is one for your memories only, because no matter how long you may live, no mortal has seen their beloved god like this. Lustful, glimmering like a star from the sheen of sweat covering his proud chest. For years, he’s held back from not turning into this form in your company, to keep the essence of Rex Lapis still here for you to admire in awe. A feat which you praise with your uncertain kisses that grow messy as soon as his hand wraps around your waist and pulls you back on his shaft. The warm stretch you feel once more between your thighs makes you tilt your head; see how he disappears inside you.

You wail and take the best of this position, arms wrapped around his neck, giving him full control over the speed and force behind the push. You guide him with your heels pressing to his lower back, rubbing the smooth scales as if they were his clothes. But it seems like this gesture spurs him to repeat the movements even faster and deeper, pushing you onto the hard floor — body rocking to the rhythm he dictates.

“Take it as my token of gratitude for having allowed me this chance to relish you anew,” Zhongli mutters in a hoarse voice as his tongue flicks between your parted lips.

Promising words mingle with the filthy sounds of arousal. And when the images of a few hours ago become blurry and fade away, you notice the ancient dragon gazing down at you from the embrace of his ruddy horns. It’s those beady golden eyes that shift into bright crimson from time to time, overrun with passion, as they observe your body with greed. How your own skin is now a canvas for his letters drawn by his fangs and talons, decorating every curve, every sensitive spot — each causing you to flutter and clench around his cock, hungry to claim your being.

And all this time he would laugh at your obvious attempts to catch his eyes, sending a shiver up your spine, kissing you in between praises, from time to time mumbling against your plump lips, “I could spend the eternity like this. In you.”

“You say this now, but what I need to hear is that you will respect me when it comes down to another serious decision.” You hum out in a tired voice, brushing your fingers through his mane.

Though he seems to have not listened, or at least chose not to react, he instead growls and makes you open up for him again, biting into your flesh like a beast. The physical confessions of love he leaves all over your shoulders, where you can easily hide them under the robes, may look like simple bruises from far away, yet there’s an intricate pattern to them, written in his own ancient tongue — no one will be able to read them but him.

That you are to be his alone and stay forever by his side.

Such a greedy dragon, taking whatever he desires in hope you will forgive him, making you whine as the flames of arousal start to lick at your ankles once more. But it’s not something that needs to be asked about now, when you two are just about to reach your highs.

Zhongli keeps you close, pounding your soppy pussy with reserve and intent, at times holding onto your waist to feel the swell of his cock stretching you. And just like this, he whispers, giving you orders — to meet his thrusts halfway, to pull him in deeper, and to let him listen to your heated moans when he curls his hips to conquer your core.

A semblance of hunger itself, always calling out for you while chasing the blissful finish with single-minded determination, so different from the usual languid pace.

Each word spoken is followed by a stinging kiss, the dampness on his chin dripping down his neck, making you feel how primal of an instinct that is to come together.

Your insides tremble with lust, quaking under the building pressure of his release, squeezing him tightly as your pleasure erupts in a wave of puffy breaths and slick heat gushing out around his girth. He chokes on his own saliva, husky moans spilling between his parted lips. The grand finale is right there, somewhere beyond the horizon of your sweaty bodies, so close yet not in reach — each drag of his erection becoming a slow torture to endure.

And that’s when he clenches his jaws and rolls his eyes, hands wrapping around your ankles to keep them wide apart as his thrusts grow erratic and quick, pounding you into the floor. Every sound he makes, like a deep rumble coming from the centre of the earth. A huff here and a broken call for your name there — along with praises of your heavenly body — while the searing liquid pours into your cunt, filling your womb until it starts to drip out with every movement.

It feels like a seal is carved on your souls, deepened by each ragged thrust as he lets himself succumb to this mortal desire, bucking into you and groaning out for you to stay. With his heated weight leaning on you, trapping you in his powerful arms, he stays for a while inside you, thrusting just a bit to spur the overstimulated nerves and force a few more whimpers from you.

Finally, he laughs in relief and rubs your nose with his, pulling away with a wink. “Would you be so kind to remind me of what happened before we got carried away?”

“How rude!” You exclaim, puffing your cheeks out as you push him off you, gently though. “You might have explained yourself well, but I’m still upset with you for tricking me like that.”

Zhongli looks at you from the corner of his eye, fully aware of your sudden change in demeanour, and shakes his head with an amused sigh. A gentle roll of his body brings out a still wanton moan from your throat, awakened with the rub of his cock inside you.

“Now, now, darling, I see your mood has changed finally to a brighter one.” He grins and brushes his finger over your bottom lip. “Or are you just unwilling to admit that you cannot stay mad at me for long?”

You bite your tongue so as not to give him the satisfaction of correcting his statement. Instead, you mutter, rolling your eyes at his arrogant expression.

“How can I say no to such an endearing face?”

The moment those words leave your lips, Zhongli withdraws from your warm body, nibbling at your jawline with his usual gentleness. You see how your mingled cum and essence drip down his legs, how it paints the floorboards with pearly marks, though soon the crispy wind brings your attention back to your own state. It is an oddly pleasant sensation of the fresh breeze playing with your soaked petals and aching thighs — sore from clasping hard ‘round the wide stature of your lover.

Like you never plan to let go of him. And that is true.

₊ ˙ ⊹ . AUTHOR’S NOTE — hewwo! happy kinktober! something that was supposed to be a first part of this year’s kinktober, but i decided to post it individually and not bother with making an entirely new masterlist just for five stories. it would make sense if i were prepared better but as we all know, life can be weird, and i could not make it. regardless, i hope this was enjoyable, and that i didn’t mess up with the new labelling — if i should turn it back into basic fem reader, please let me know :3

#—writing.#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli smut

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andy-15-07 · 8 months ago

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Soft Spot

masterlist ! pairing Feyd-Rautha x reader

SUMMARY : you're going to marry Feyd-Rautha, but you didn't know he has a soft spot for you

GENRE: fluff, loveeee

The grand halls of the Harkonnen fortress echoed with the clinking of armor and the whispers of political intrigue as you, unaware of Feyd-Rautha's hidden feelings, prepared for the arranged marriage. The alliance between your house and House Harkonnen was to be solidified through this union, a union that held more secrets than you could fathom.

As you adorned yourself in the intricate wedding attire, your mind buzzed with the weight of responsibility. The marriage was a strategic move, a chess piece in the game of power. Little did you know, Feyd-Rautha harbored a soft spot for you that went beyond the calculated alliance.

As you walked down the aisle towards the ceremonial chamber, Feyd-Rautha stood at the altar, a stoic figure in his Harkonnen regalia. His piercing blue eyes, however, betrayed a subtle warmth when they met yours.

The ceremony commenced, the officiant reciting the traditional vows that bound you to Feyd-Rautha. Yet, amidst the formality, a flicker of genuine emotion appeared in Feyd-Rautha's eyes as he spoke, "I pledge my loyalty to this union, and to you, Y/N, my chosen partner in this intricate dance of politics and power."

His words carried a sincerity that resonated within you, and a realization started to dawn. Perhaps there was more to this marriage than just political maneuvering. The enigmatic Feyd-Rautha seemed to be unveiling a side of himself that few had witnessed.

As the ceremony continued, you exchanged vows, committing to the union with a sense of duty. Unbeknownst to you, Feyd-Rautha's words held a depth that transcended the political façade. "I promise to stand by you, Y/N, not just as a husband but as someone who sees beyond the political tapestry. You are more than a strategic alliance; you are the missing piece in my life."

The celebration that followed was lavish, a feast befitting the union of two powerful houses. Amidst the revelry, Feyd-Rautha found a moment to steal you away to a quieter chamber. The tension in the air was palpable as he looked into your eyes, his usually composed demeanor revealing vulnerability.

"Y/N," he began, his voice softer than usual, "there's something I need you to know. This marriage, yes, it's a political move, but for me, it's more than that. I've developed a deep admiration for you, one that goes beyond the expectations of our houses."

You were taken aback by the sincerity in his confession. Feyd-Rautha, the formidable figure known for his ruthlessness, was baring his soul to you. "I never expected to find solace in this arrangement, but in you, I see more than just an alliance. I see a partner, someone I want to stand beside in the battles that lie ahead."

His vulnerability resonated with you, and a spark of understanding kindled. "Feyd-Rautha, I may have entered into this marriage out of duty, but your sincerity has not gone unnoticed. Perhaps there is a chance for us to find common ground beyond the political landscape."

The revelation marked a turning point in your relationship. The walls that had separated you from Feyd-Rautha started to crumble, revealing a shared vulnerability that formed the basis of a connection neither of you had anticipated.

As the night unfolded, you found yourselves navigating the intricacies of this newfound understanding. Feyd-Rautha, known for his calculated moves, was now making room for emotions he hadn't explored before. The marriage, initially a pact sealed by duty, started to evolve into something more complex, a tapestry woven with threads of unexpected emotions and genuine connection.

And so, in the grand halls of House Harkonnen, a marriage born out of political strategy took an unforeseen turn, guided by the unspoken soft spot that Feyd-Rautha harbored for you. The game of power, it seemed, had made room for the unpredictable dance of the heart.

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #feyd oneshot #feyd x you #feyd x reader #dune x you #dune x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha harkonnen x you #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha imagines #austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler imagines #austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n

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chimcess · 1 month ago

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Unparalleled || jjk

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Other tags: Idol!Jungkook, Photographer!Reader Word Count: 6.6k+ Genre: One-shot, established relationship, PWP, long distance relationship AU, smut Synopsis: You had only met him once, a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of things, and the fact that he was on the other side of the hotel door felt surreal. Or, after being in a long-distance relationship for over a year, you and Jungkook are finally meeting up. Warnings: This is literally just porn, there’s a plot but it’s just filth, soft-dom JK, he calls reader “baby,” oral (m&f), d*ck piercing, tatted jk, jk wears glasses (the entire time), dirty talk, desperate sex, couch sex, they barely made it inside tbh, protected sex (wrap it up babes), multiple positions, light begging, light body worship, light praise, some teasing, reader cums on his face, multiple orgasms, nipple play, nipple sucking, some nipple biting, hair pulling, aftercare cuddling, sweet ending, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: I’m still getting used to writing smut, so I’m sorry if this is a bit awkward in some spots. Found this in my drafts, so I fixed it up a little bit and decided to post it. Thanks for reading.

Staring down at my fidgeting hands, I felt like the taxi was closing in on me, every tick of the clock amplifying the sense of claustrophobia. Twenty minutes felt like an eternity, dragging by as if time itself were taunting me. I stole another glance at my phone, re-reading Jungkook's last message like it was some sort of magic spell.

Kookie: 324

It was surreal to think he was right here in California, just a short drive away, no oceans or time zones separating us. My leg bounced nervously beneath the table, the excitement swirling in my stomach like butterflies in a frenzy. Each moment felt charged with anticipation, a thrilling energy that made my heart race. I quickly typed out a response, adding a heart emoji before sending my location. Jungkook always said sharing my location made him feel closer to me, bridging the gap between our worlds, even with his whirlwind schedule that rarely left room for anything else. Being one of the biggest pop stars had a way of pulling a guy in a million directions.

I couldn’t help but smile as I recalled our first meeting. It was right after the lockdown ended, during his band’s visit to California for a concert and the Grammys. I still vividly remembered standing by the snack table, nervously clutching a half-empty cup of soda, when our eyes met for the first time. There was an electric spark in that moment, something I hadn’t realized I’d been missing. His grin was infectious, his playful nature shining through, and my heart had skipped a beat at the sound of his laughter. It echoed in my mind like a melody I wanted to play on repeat.

A few months later, we had entered a long-distance relationship, navigating the challenges of his demanding career while trying to keep our connection alive. Late-night video calls, flirty texts, and the occasional surprise visit were our lifelines, but nothing could compare to the rush of being together in the same room. And now, the thought of finally seeing him in person again sent a rush of warmth through me, a blend of hope and nervous energy that was hard to contain.

As I waited, I replayed our conversations in my mind—each one a thread weaving our lives together despite the distance. We shared dreams, fears, and whispered secrets, laying the groundwork for something beautiful and profound. The thought of being in his presence again, of feeling his warmth and the comfort of his touch, made my heart race with excitement.

I glanced at the clock again, biting my lip in anticipation. Each minute stretched into hours, the seconds crawling by. Would he still feel the same? Would our chemistry translate into real life as effortlessly as it did through screens and messages? Doubts flitted through my mind, but I shook them off, focusing on the joy of the moment. Jungkook was just a heartbeat away, and soon, I would be in his arms. The very idea sent a shiver down my spine.

My phone buzzed, startling me out of my thoughts. I scrambled to open the notification, my heart racing. If Jungkook messaged, I had to respond quickly. Our conversations were a race against time, a way to squeeze moments of connection into his packed schedule. Phone calls were our only reliable lifeline, but the language barrier complicated things. We were both trying, though Jungkook's English was much better than my Korean.

Kookie: 나는 신나요

Giggling, I typed back a response.

Y/N: 나도

Kookie: Good job, 자기~

Nothing made Jungkook happier than seeing me try to improve my Korean. He always insisted it was adorable, his smile brightening every time I stumbled through a phrase. Yoongi was usually the more honest one, quick to point out my mispronunciations, but Jungkook wore that supportive boyfriend badge with pride, even if it meant telling me little white lies.

As the taxi pulled up to the hotel, my heart raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety. I thanked the driver, tipping generously as I stepped out into the warm night air. The moment I did, the fragrant scent of blooming jasmine wafted around me, mingling with the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore. I had only packed a small bag for our two-night stay, not knowing how much time we’d actually have together. Remembering that, I hurried up the steps, my footsteps echoing against the marble tiles.

The Sunset Hotel was unlike anything I’d imagined. I had envisioned a quiet, almost sleepy place, but instead, it was alive with activity. I couldn’t believe it was two in the morning; the lobby was bustling, a vibrant mix of laughter, clinking glasses, and the faint notes of live music drifting from the bar area. The energy crackled in the air like electricity, and I felt an exhilarating rush. Yet, amidst the lively atmosphere, a wave of inadequacy washed over me. Just a few moments ago, in the taxi, I had almost forgotten about Jungkook’s status as one of the biggest pop stars in the world, but now, beneath the sparkling chandelier that cast shimmering patterns across the polished floor, it was impossible to ignore.

As I walked through the brightly lit lobby, I caught glimpses of elegantly dressed guests, their conversations animated, their laughter ringing out like musical notes. I felt like a fish out of water, dressed in a casual sundress while they flaunted designer attire. Who would have thought my years in the service industry—working late nights and juggling demanding customers—would lead me here, about to meet someone who could afford such luxury? The thought both thrilled and terrified me.

At the front desk, the staff shot me quick, assessing looks. Their eyes were sharp, as if measuring my worth in this lavish setting. One of the hosts greeted me with a forced smile that felt far too wide for comfort. “Welcome to the Sunset Hotel! How can I assist you tonight?” Their voice dripped with that practiced hospitality, but I could sense a subtle skepticism beneath the surface.

“Um, I’m here to check in,” I replied, my voice steady despite the fluttering in my chest. I fished my phone out of my bag, ready to show them the reservation I’d made, but the host raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the computer screen as if evaluating my very presence.

“Name?” they asked, still wearing that unnaturally bright smile.

“Y/N,” I replied, and I held my breath as they typed it in. A brief moment of silence stretched between us, the bustling lobby fading into a distant murmur as I waited for their response.

“Ah, yes! We have you right here,” they said finally, their tone shifting to one of mild surprise. “You’re the other half of 324, correct?” They looked at me again, and I could feel the weight of their judgment, as if I were a puzzle they were trying to fit into a larger picture.

“Right,” I said, attempting to keep my tone light. “Should just be for the weekend.”

The host’s smile remained, but the glint in their eye suggested they were piecing together the details, perhaps even recognizing my connection to Jungkook. As they handed me the key card, I felt a rush of anxiety. What if they didn’t think I belonged here? What if Jungkook didn’t feel the same way about me once we were together?

I took the key, my fingers brushing against the cool surface, and turned to head toward the elevator. I was acutely aware of the looks I was receiving, a mix of curiosity and skepticism from both staff and guests alike. The air was thick with expectations, and I could almost hear the whispers in my mind, doubting whether I was truly worthy of this moment. But I pushed those thoughts aside. This was about Jungkook and me, our connection. And soon, I would be in his presence, feeling the warmth of his smile and the excitement of our reunion.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the elevator, the doors closing behind me like a protective barrier from the outside world. As the car ascended, I clutched my bag, heart racing with every passing floor. This was it. In just a few moments, I would be face-to-face with the boy who had ignited something within me, and no amount of uncertainty could overshadow that truth.

I shifted from foot to foot in the cramped elevator, the anticipation eating away at me like a swarm of butterflies taking flight in my stomach. Each second felt like an eternity, stretching my nerves thinner and thinner. I took out my phone, biting back a smile as I contemplated the moment. It was so surreal that I was just a few moments away from seeing Jungkook again after what felt like an eternity apart.

In a burst of excitement, I snapped a quick picture of the elevator doors opening, the sleek metallic finish reflecting the soft glow of the lobby lights. I sent it to Jungkook with a playful caption: *“Almost there!”* Watching the little blue ticks appear, I felt a rush of warmth, knowing he’d see it almost instantly.

Once inside the elevator, I pressed the button for the third floor with a mix of hope and trepidation. It only made sense that the 300s would be located on the third floor, right? Still, the absence of any signs directing me left me feeling a bit disoriented. The elevator hummed softly, its gentle movement barely easing the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind.

The walls felt a bit too close, almost as if they were closing in on me, but I took a deep breath, willing myself to relax. I replayed the memories of our conversations, the laughter we shared, and the longing I felt every time we parted. The excitement pulsing through me was intoxicating, a vivid contrast to the anxious tension coiling in my chest.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my hand, jolting me out of my reverie. I glanced down, my heart skipping a beat as I saw Jungkook's name flashing on the screen.

Kookie: I’m going to kiss you so much.

I couldn’t help but smile. I hoped kissing would be just the beginning of what would happen tonight. After a year of building up tension, I didn’t want to wait anymore. I wanted him.

Y/N: 또?

Kookie: I can’t think of it in English.

Rolling my eyes, I groaned. That was his way of avoiding a question. I knew he understood, but it amused me more than anything. Slowly, my nerves eased, and I felt more confident about seeing him, even if we were hiding away in a hotel I could never afford, lying on expensive sheets while the world outside spun with sharp eyes and curious gazes.

As the elevator dinged softly, signaling my arrival at the third floor, I felt a surge of adrenaline. The doors slid open smoothly, revealing a dimly lit hallway lined with plush carpeting and framed art pieces that whispered of elegance. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out, the plush carpet muffling my footsteps as I moved forward. The anticipation hung in the air like a charged atmosphere before a storm, and I could almost feel Jungkook’s presence drawing me closer.

I glanced at the room numbers, scanning for his. As I walked, I imagined what it would be like to finally be face-to-face with him. Would he look the same? Would that boyish grin still light up his face when he saw me? The thought sent my heart racing as I turned a corner, catching sight of the numbers I had been searching for.

Room 324. My breath caught in my throat, and for a fleeting moment, I hesitated, overwhelmed by a wave of nerves. What if things were different now? What if he had changed? But I quickly shook off the doubts; this was Jungkook, the boy I had laughed and shared secrets with, the one who had kept my heart fluttering even from a distance.

With a firm resolve, I approached the door, my heart pounding in rhythm with my steps. I held my breath, the moment stretching out like a taut string ready to snap. Would he answer? Would he be excited to see me? I could hardly contain the anticipation, my heart racing as I waited for that door to swing open. The air crackled with anticipation, buzzing with the weight of what was about to happen.

I raised my hand to knock, but before my knuckles could even touch the wood, the door swung open. And there he was—Jungkook.

He was everything I remembered: pitch-black hair tousled in a way that was both effortless and enticing, metal glinting in the light, thin, silver rimmed glasses, and a thin white t-shirt clinging to his muscular frame. It felt surreal, like stepping into a vivid dream, but this was no illusion. This was real, and it took my breath away.

"You," I whispered, the word slipping out like a gasp.

His dark eyes widened in surprise, delight flickering across his features. My heart raced as I watched him take me in, his expression shifting from uncertainty to something deeper, more intimate. Had he been waiting for this moment as much as I had? Was he just as happy as I felt?

All my doubts faded when that eyebrow, heavy with steel, raised in appreciation instead of scorn. He stepped into the hallway, and my heart pounded wildly, the space between us charged with an unspoken promise.

"You," he echoed, his voice low and husky as he took my hand in his, guiding me back into his room.

He kicked the door shut behind him. The air thickened as he moved closer, inches separating us, electric and intoxicating. I inhaled the scent of him—soap and laundry detergent—sending shivers down my spine. A soft whimper escaped my lips, desire pooling in my stomach like a spark waiting to ignite.

With an air of confidence, he advanced, and I leaned back, the weight of his presence drawing me in like gravity. I stopped when my back hit the couch, the world outside fading away as we paused, our breaths mingling in the charged silence. My fingers, betraying me, reached up to trace the row of piercings in his eyebrow, trailing down the line of his jaw to his lips. They were soft and rosy, a striking contrast to the rough stubble that scratched my palm.

In that moment, he darted his tongue out, the pointed tip brushing against my fingers, and I moaned softly, the sound echoing in the intimate space between us, igniting the fire that had been simmering beneath the surface.

And then he was on me.

He seized my hand, guiding it into the tousled mess of hair I had longed to touch. It was softer than I had imagined, and I lost myself in it. His mouth descended on mine, a fiery torrent of passion and urgency. My body responded instinctively, arching into him as our breaths mingled, his desire palpable against my stomach, the taste of longing lingering on his lips.

His palm traced a path down my arm, firm and possessive, sliding over my shoulder and back again. He tugged at the buttons of my cardigan, peeling the fabric away to reveal the inked skin beneath. I shivered at the roughness of his touch, a thrilling contrast to the softness of his kiss.

Breaking away, I pressed my mouth against the line of his jaw, trailing wet kisses toward the piercings in his ear, letting my tongue tease them as my breath washed hot against his skin.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?” He whispered against my lips.

I panted, my fingers tangling tightly in his hair.

His hands tightened around my arms, pulling us together, the weight of our bodies colliding in a desperate embrace. “Every single day,” he swore, his voice rough yet melodic. He began a slow, deliberate exploration of my neck, the heat of his tongue tracing my pulse and making me shudder. “Every night that you called me, whispering sweet nothings in that voice. It drove me insane. I just wanted to hop on a plane and have you in my lap.”

“God, I wish you would have,” I gasped, feeling the bite of his teeth just below my collarbone, a thrilling blend of pain and pleasure that made me clench around nothing. “Why didn’t you?”

“You make me nervous,” he murmured, teasing aside the cup of my bra.

He took my nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking against the bud with reverence. I whined in pleasure, arching into him. Emboldened, he bit down.

“Self-conscious, huh?” I teased, winded and shaking from pleasure, even as my nails dug into his back, urging him closer. “I have a hard time believing that right now.”

He pulled back, capturing my face in his strong hands, kissing me fiercely as a low growl escaped him. “Believe it.”

We kissed with a fierce intensity that made me feel like I was on fire, the heat radiating off him, his glasses pressing against my face. He shifted to remove them, but I caught his wrists, holding him in place.

“Don’t,” I growled. “I like them.”

A primal sound erupted from his chest, desperate and raw. He lifted me effortlessly, settling me against the back of the couch, our bodies grinding together, my thighs aligning perfectly with the hard heat of his jeans. Each thrust sent a new wave of pleasure surging through me, my head falling back as I teetered on the brink of ecstasy, feeling weightless and electric, consumed by a desire that felt like it could set us both ablaze.

But he caught me. Just as I was about to tumble backward into dizzying, white-hot pleasure, his arms wrapped around me, firm and unyielding, pulling me against the solid expanse of his chest. My breath came in quick, frantic gasps, my heart racing like a wild animal as I clung to him, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, drawing him closer.

“Careful, pretty girl,” he breathed into my ear, a soft murmur that sent shivers racing down my spine. I grasped at his back, fingers digging into the taut muscles, anchoring myself to him, afraid of being swept away in the tide of desire threatening to pull me under.

My hands roamed from his back, gliding over his shoulders and down his arms as he stroked his fingertips along my thighs, mapping a path from my knees to my hips and back again. His skin was warm, electric under my touch, and I traced the intricate black curls of ink adorning his pale flesh—an abstract tapestry resolving into a lion on one arm and a lamb on the other.

“You’re beautiful,” I gasped, the words spilling out before I could stop them, but he silenced me with another heated kiss.

My fingers fumbled at the hem of his t-shirt, desperate to see what those curls of ink transformed into beneath the fabric. He shifted me closer, his grip on me unwavering, even as his hands momentarily released me to lift his arms above his head. Seizing the opportunity, I tugged at his shirt, peeling it away to reveal the canvas of his torso, the intricate lines of ink telling stories I longed to hear.

I barely had time to take in the intricate Sanskrit lines etched along his side and the lone kanji character hovering over his heart before he was lifting my shirt, pulling it over my head. For a heartbeat, I was enveloped in darkness, blinded by the fabric. My hands scrambled behind me, fumbling to unclasp my bra, and he kissed a heated trail along the bare skin of my shoulder as the straps slipped down my arms.

“I love this,” he murmured against my skin, his lips trailing softly across my collarbone, down my ribs, and back to my breast, igniting every nerve in my body. “And I love it all the more because of this.”

His tongue brushed over the small butterfly tattoo on my ribcage.

His fingers roamed lower, and when he pulled away, I let out a whimper of protest, longing for his touch. The light-headed sensation returned, reminding me just how long it had been since a man had touched me—since I’d felt filled.

I braced myself with one hand against the edge of the couch while the other tangled in his tousled hair, relishing its softness as it slipped through my fingers. His mouth found my stomach, his tongue dipping into my navel, tracing a tantalizing line toward my most sensitive spot. I gasped, an overwhelming hunger igniting deep within me. I had been yearning for this, for him, and the desperate need flooded my senses.

With deft fingers, he teased apart the button of my fly and drew down the zipper, revealing delicate black lace beneath. He licked and sucked his way to my hip, his hand lingering on my abdomen, thumb skirting under the edge of my underwear before descending lower, finally finding bare, glistening skin. When his fingers grazed my clit, pleasure surged through me, and I nearly cried out at its raw intensity.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping,” he cursed, his voice rough with desire as he buried his face against the joint of my hip and thigh.

“For you,” I groaned, my body arching instinctively. “I’ve been wet for months just thinking about you.”

A low growl escaped him, and in a blur of motion, he tore the hem of my jeans down, ripping them from my body until I was left in nothing but my panties. He pushed my naked thighs up and over his shoulders, positioning his head exactly where I craved him to be.

I struggled to contain my frantic breaths, fast and shallow, echoing my absolute need to feel his hands, his mouth, to be consumed by him entirely. He inhaled deeply, reverently, his nose brushing against the lace where my body met my thigh. The sensation sent shockwaves through me, rendering me breathless.

He wrapped one hand around my leg while the other snaked behind me, gripping my ass firmly, anchoring me as he pulled the soaked fabric aside, exposing my bare skin to his hungry gaze. His thumb descended onto my clit, and I gasped, waves of need crashing over me as pleasure radiated from his touch. I cried out, the sound escaping me like a prayer, my body arching toward him, desperate for more.

And then he kissed me, his mouth capturing my clit with an intensity that sent me spiraling.

The moans clawing their way from my chest were unrecognizable, a desperate symphony of need as I became a writhing mass of pure, unadulterated hunger. Unlatching himself, his thumb worked expertly at my clit, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through me. His tongue darted out, teasing the edges of my entrance before plunging inside, and I felt the pressure building, the storm that had been gathering finally reaching its peak until I exploded, my thighs clenching around his face as my body ignited into a searing inferno.

I teetered on the edge of ecstasy, and then I actually fell over, the world spiraling away.

When I regained awareness, I was sprawled across the back of the couch, my neck twisted awkwardly, the top of my head grazing the seat cushion. My arms draped limply above me while my thighs remained anchored to his shoulders. He gazed down at me, a mixture of curiosity and satisfaction etched across his face, his mouth glistening—a testament to our fervor.

With a wicked smirk, he wiped his mouth with his forearm, leaving me in my awkward state as he peeled my panties down my body, rendering me completely exposed and unable to rise. His finger glided along my opening, my body still thrumming with aftershocks from one of the most intense orgasms I’d ever experienced. When he dipped gently inside, I gasped.

“Is this what you want, Y/N? My hands inside you?”

I found myself ensnared in a whirlwind of emotions; I craved this intimacy with him more than anything, yet it felt like just a fragment of the whole picture. The sensation of his fingers deep within me was intoxicating, but beneath that, there lingered a yearning for more—more than just his hands. I ached for him—his body hovering over mine, the heat radiating from him as I traced the ink etched across his skin, my tongue teasing the silver piercings that adorned him.

“Yes. No. God, I want you,” I gasped, my voice a mixture of longing and desperation.

He raised a pierced eyebrow, still kneeling before me, his fingers buried deep inside me. “Want your cock.”

“You want this dick?” he asked, his tone both teasing and serious.

“Yes,” I panted, the word slipping out as both a plea and a command.

“Where?”

I knew exactly where I wanted him; the desire burned brightly within me. “Everywhere. My hand. My mouth. My pussy. Just… everywhere.”

A low growl escaped him, reverberating through my body, raw and hungry. But just as quickly, his fingers slipped away, leaving me aching and empty. He gripped my hips, securing me against him and the back of the couch, rising to slide my slick core against the hard line of his body. The urgency of his arousal pressed against me, igniting a fire within.

He leaned down, gathering me into his arms, kissing me with such fervor that I felt dizzy, his hardness grinding against me—a promise of what was to come.

I pushed him away gently, his expression shifting to one of confusion, but all I needed was a moment to slide off the couch and drop to my knees. He groaned as I ran my nose along the thick outline of him through his jeans, feeling him twitch in response to my teasing. With trembling hands, I tugged his pants and boxers down, revealing him—long, thick, and glistening with anticipation.

The chrome piercing at the tip caught the light, gleaming enticingly.

Looking up, I found him hovering above me, his body bared save for those damn glasses. His intense gaze locked onto mine, a silent plea reflected in his brown eyes. “Y/N,” I breathed, letting my warm breath wash over the tip of him. He groaned, his fingers tangling in my hair, urging me forward.

“God, I want to feel your mouth on me,” he implored, igniting a wild hunger within me.

I opened my mouth, eager and wet, my lips closing around the head of him, my tongue tracing the underside, the cool metal against warm flesh sending shivers down my spine.

“Y/N.”

I pulled away before I could take him too deep, trailing my mouth down his length, savoring every moment as I buried my nose into the soft hair at the base of him. He was practically whimpering, and I couldn’t resist the urge to pump him twice with my hand, the slickness gliding over him before I took him into my mouth, relaxing my throat to envelop him. Yet even with all my efforts, I couldn’t fit him completely, and I rubbed my thighs together, craving the moment he would finally fill me.

I moved my mouth up and down his length, achingly slow, feeling the tension coiling within him, his hips twitching, restrained. He wanted to thrust, to take control, but I held him back, guiding his movements while keeping him still. I could sense his legs trembling, teetering on the edge, so I pulled off, leaving him panting, his length throbbing, a testament to our shared desire.

Kissing the sharp bone of his hip, I pulled his pants the rest of the way down as he kicked off his shoes, the fabric sliding away like a whisper in the night. Just as I was about to toss the jeans aside, he stopped me, his voice low and husky. “Back pocket.”

Curiosity piqued, I glanced up at him through narrowed eyes and retrieved the little foil package from his back pocket. I noticed at least two more tucked away, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had remarkable recovery time or if he was planning a very long weekend with me. Both notions sent a thrilling rush coursing through me

I held the condom up between two of my fingers. Jungkook snatched the package from me, tearing it open with a deft motion, rolling it over his cock from tip to base. He pressed his sheathed length against my hip, our bodies brushing together with a desperation that left me breathless.

“Turn,” he commanded, gently pushing at my shoulder. I obeyed, and his hands shoved me down, bending me from the waist, positioning my elbows on the back of the couch. When he was satisfied with my submission, he settled his hands firmly on my shoulder blades, a searing presence that felt as though it might melt through my skin, branding me with his touch.

His hands glided down my sides, over my ribs and hips, finally settling on my ass, rubbing it appreciatively. The edges of his fingers grazed my lips, parting them, and I jerked backward, feeling the heat of his cock resting against my back.

“Wider, baby,” he cooed, his fingers sliding over my trembling thighs. I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the rush of sensation, and obeyed, spreading my legs for him. His knees bent between mine, the tip of his cock gliding tantalizingly from my clit to my entrance, brushing against me but not penetrating.

“Please, Jungkook,” I panted, desperation clawing at my throat as I felt myself teetering on the edge of begging.

Even he found himself pleading. “Please let me inside you,” he whispered, his length teasingly tracing my wet flesh, dipping slightly to part my lips but not filling the aching void within me.

“Yes,” I groaned, finally feeling the head of his cock pressing against my entrance, slipping into me inch by glorious inch. Nothing had ever felt this intense. “Fuck, yes,” I moaned, his grip hot and possessive at my hip while the other hand cradled the back of my neck, steadying me.

It was maddening not being able to move, even though all I wanted was to rock back and pull him deeper.

My body stretched as he pushed forward, achingly slow until he was fully seated within me, his hips flush against my backside. I gasped as he filled me completely. The sensation was electrifying, and I felt him rock back slightly before surging forward again, the combination of his length and the hot tip of metal against my walls making my eyes roll.

“Please,” I urged, my mantra of ‘yes’ and ‘fuck me’ spiraling from my lips as he finally began to thrust with abandon, our bodies locked in a passionate dance.

He tightened his grip on my hip, the other hand sliding to the middle of my back, pushing down. I could feel his movements becoming erratic, less steady—so close to coming inside me.

But I didn’t want it to end like this. Not after all this time.

“No, stop,” I breathed, the words barely escaping my lips before he froze, a pained sound erupting from him like a wounded animal.

“Please, Jesus, Y/N, you can’t—”

I glanced over my shoulder at him, squeezing him tightly inside me. The resulting moan from his throat sent a jolt of electricity through my body. The rejection and frustration etched across his face twisted my heart. “After all this time missing you,” I whispered, locking eyes with him, “I need to see you. I need to see you come.”

In an instant, he withdrew, turning my body roughly until I felt the couch pressing against me once more. Supporting my back with one hand, he parted my thighs with fierce urgency, stepping into them and plunging back inside me. I screamed, the sound echoing through the empty corners of the room.

His face was close to mine as he began to move again, quick, short thrusts finding a new rhythm. Our sweaty brows collided, the metal hoops of his piercings scratching my skin, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. His name spilled from my lips as we captured each other in another fiery kiss, a moment so intense I thought I could lose myself entirely in the swirl of our bodies, his ink swirling around us like dark tendrils of smoke.

His patience began to fray as he kissed me harder, his body pressing into mine with more urgency. I felt the fiery bloom of pleasure building again, hot and electric, and I craved him hard and fast—a deep connection stripped of all restraint.

He must have sensed my need, too, as he quickened his pace. “Hold on, baby,” he instructed, and I complied, wrapping my arms and legs around him tightly. I let him brace himself against the back of the couch as he drove into me, his pubic bone hitting my clit with each thrust, the metal piercing hitting deep within me making me mewl.

“I’m coming, Y/N. Fuck,” he moans, the raw desperation in his voice igniting something primal within me.

His face contorts in a beautiful, twisted expression of pleasure, each thrust deeper, harder, as if he’s trying to etch this moment into my very soul. The intensity of his words washes over me like a tidal wave, pulling me into a realm of oblivion. My body pulses in rhythm with his, a white-hot light flashing behind my closed eyes, merging with the vision of him—so fully present in my arms, lost in the sheer ecstasy we’ve created together.

As the world around us faded, time seemed to suspend, leaving only the two of us in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy. I could feel the weight of our shared moments pressing against us, every sensation amplified in the silence that enveloped the room. Slowly, we began to come back to ourselves, his body still pressed against mine, a gentle reminder of the electrifying connection we had just shared. The feeling of him lingering inside me sent shivers down my spine, and our breaths intertwined in a rhythm that was both calming and exhilarating.

We exchanged soft kisses, each one delicate and filled with unspoken promises, contrasting the raw passion that had ignited between us moments before. It was a tender kind of intimacy, one that held the power to ground us in a whirlwind of emotions.

After a moment, he pulled away, slipping out of me with a reluctance that made my heart ache just a little. The sudden emptiness was palpable, a gentle reminder of the closeness we had just experienced. Jungkook reached for the condom, his movements careful and deliberate, disposing of it in the wastebasket beside the couch. When he turned back to me, the soft glow of the room caught the contours of his face, illuminating him in a way that made him look almost ethereal.

“You’re really here,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the magic of the moment.

“I’m here,” I replied, unable to suppress the grin that broke across my face. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and this moment felt surreal.

Jungkook walked back over to the couch, his gaze roaming over my features as if he were trying to memorize every detail. “You look even better than I remembered,” he said, his smile soft and genuine, lighting up his eyes.

“And you look exhausted,” I teased, noticing the faint shadows under his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and busy days.

He laughed, the sound brightening the room and melting away any remnants of anxiety I had carried with me. “It’s been a crazy week, but seeing you makes it all worth it.”

A smile broke across my face, the tension of the past months finally beginning to dissolve. For the first time since I had arrived, I took in my surroundings. The room felt both elegant and cozy, drenched in soft light, with tasteful decor that radiated warmth. A large bed dominated the space, its crisp white sheets looking impossibly inviting, and I found myself wishing we could make our way over there. It seemed far more comfortable than the couch.

“How was your flight?” Jungkook asked, bending down to plant a gentle kiss on my forehead, sending warmth flooding through me.

“Long,” I admitted. “But I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited.” The truth was, anticipation had been buzzing in my veins like electricity ever since I’d set foot on the plane.

He settled next to me on the couch, his hand finding mine, our fingers intertwining in a way that felt instinctive. “I’ve missed you so much,” he said, his thumb tracing small patterns on my skin, making my heart flutter in response.

“I’ve missed you too,” I replied, squeezing his hand tightly. “It feels like forever.”

We fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the city lights twinkling outside like a constellation trapped within a glass jar. The reality of being here with him began to sink in, settling deep in my bones. No more video calls with choppy connections or hurried texts exchanged amid the chaos of our lives—just us, flesh and blood, finally in the same place.

Breaking the quiet, Jungkook’s tone turned serious, slicing through the warmth that enveloped us. “How are you holding up? I know it’s been tough.”

I took a deep breath, weighing my response. “It’s been hard,” I admitted, the truth heavy on my tongue. “But knowing we’d have this, even just a couple of days, kept me going.”

He nodded, understanding etched on his face. “It’s the same for me. The craziness of the tour and the constant traveling—it’s all worth it knowing I get to see you.”

His words wrapped around me like a warm blanket on a cold night, soothing my weary soul. We talked for hours, drifting through a sea of conversation that felt both substantial and light, catching up on everything and nothing. His stories from the tour spilled out with infectious excitement, his eyes alight like fireflies in the dark. I shared my own experiences, and with every word, the distance between us began to melt away until it felt like the space of a single breath.

Eventually, exhaustion crept in like a gentle shadow, heavy yet comforting. Jungkook stood up and held out his hand, a playful glimmer in his eyes. “Come on,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Let’s move to the bed. It’s way more comfortable.”

I took his hand, allowing him to guide me across the room. The large bed loomed before us, inviting and cozy, the crisp white sheets beckoning like a sanctuary. As we settled into the plush comfort, I felt a wave of contentment wash over me, a feeling that we were finally exactly where we were meant to be. We lay side by side, fingers intertwined like threads in a tapestry, the world outside fading into a dull hum, the city’s chaos a distant memory.

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