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kneelingshadowsalome · 6 months

Note

i love your writings so much! i need you to write about könig with maid!reader like i need air and water. könig who needs someone to take care of his house while he‘s gone, returning from his deployment only to find reader huddled up in a soft blanket on the couch, the house smelling of freshly baked cinnamon bread and lavender while she sleeps peacefully. he‘s so touch starved and the domesticity makes his heart and cock stir, he‘s never had any woman cook for him since his Oma passed away. poor reader is oblivious to her boss‘s infatuation until she‘s not, he‘s so awkward around her she thinks he just doesn‘t wanna be disturbed, but she doesn‘t know he uses her conditioner to stroke his cock every night, and now he can‘t help but get a raging boner everytime she passes by and he smells her hair :((((

Banner picture credit: @661ave

possession

noun

the state of having, owning, or controlling something.

Word count: 7 k Tags/warnings: 18+ only DARK FIC. Perv!König masturbating to thoughts of you + your stolen panties. Jealous & possessive behaviour. Dubious consent to having unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, size kink, breeding kink, implied age difference. Some fluff if you squint. A/N: First of all, I'm sorry if you expected something sweet & fluffy anon… This thing just came out of me. Also, @gremlingottoosilly wrote the best thing EVER for this trope so please if you haven’t read it yet go give it a read (dark content there too though so be warned!)

He’s good at repairing things. He prides himself in that.

And he keeps his house neat and clean: that’s not a problem. His papers are in order, his office is in order. His home is in order too, and so is his whole life – love life included because there is none.

He always ensured he’s not dependent on anyone, he never seeked a mother from a partner. Just for self-reliance's sake, he knows how to do his own laundry and meal prep for weeks. He learned to fold his t-shirts with an orderliness fit for the military when he was ten years old, just so that no one would have the chance to say he needed a wife.

He always vacuums the entire house before deployment, does the dishes, takes out the trash. And he doesn’t hate house chores… but he doesn’t like them either. His house is a sad, lifeless, gloomy place to spend time in. It’s big enough for a family, it has everything he needs to host a night for friends, but he doesn’t have any.

Family, or friends, that is.

When he hears that his co-worker – the one with a frigid wife and five unruly kids – hired a maid to do the cleaning in the house, he pauses to think. He doesn’t have a chaos in his home, but he’s got enough money to make life a tad easier. Besides, it’s only expected of a man of his position to hire an assistant of some sort, is it not?

It’s just that he didn’t expect housemaids to be this… cute.

There are quite a few applications, and he’s a sick bastard for choosing the maid solely based on the picture attached to the CV. He told himself it was also because it looked like this lady needed the money the most. He's a generous man, so why not help a woman in need?

Another thing he didn’t expect is how his house would start to smell so nice and look so cozy. It’s the small details, the tiny little things that make his chest burn. The way she uses softener on his shirts and folds not only his shirts but his boxers, too, or places a scented candle on the table when the weather turns cold. It’s clearly for his delight because it’s not one of those overly sweet apple or caramel things but something fresh, maybe spruce or fir.

She even bakes for him on the days when he comes back. The fact that a beautiful young woman bakes for him stirs something unwanted and long-forgotten in his chest. The sweet scent of home baked buns makes his cock stir, too. His place has never seen a woman’s touch, no one has ever baked anything here…

And he certainly doesn’t expect to find his maid sleeping on his sofa when he arrives home one evening.

She stirs immediately, and apologizes profusely for making herself at home like this. She starts to stutter and explain how she’s had a busy week and difficulty with sleeping, how she simply dozed off while waiting for the rolls to bake in the oven.

He stops her in the middle of her flustered excuses: she can take a nap here any time, it’s not like the furniture is going to wear and tear from use anytime soon. He’s barely even home, so it’s good that someone enjoys the sofa, right? She can use his bed too if she wants. More convenient that way, ja?

He realizes he went a little too far when she looks at him like he just offered to fuck her on the kitchen table. Which he has thought about, to be honest, for a good long while now. In fact, he’s thought about it ever since she started in this position a month ago.

It's her fault for being so unsuspecting and lovely, and she's playing with fire when she takes more dangerous liberties by showering at his house. He finds a women’s conditioner bottle in the bathroom and once, he even catches her doing her laundry here too. There’s a pair of women’s underwear in the pile of clothes she politely informs he’d have to fold himself this time because she’s in a hurry to catch her bus.

He’s far more intrigued by the innocent, blush pink strings greeting him from amidst his black and dark green clothes than by the fact that his maid is breaking the rules. Other employers would give her a warning or simply say she no longer has to come and work here ever again. Showering at his place, washing her clothes in his washing machine and taking a nap on his sofa border on violating the terms of their agreement, but he couldn’t care less. He would carve a hole in his chest if that would make her happy.

When he finds out she’s busy because she has to work two jobs, he raises her pay, despite the fact that she’s sometimes late and at times, leaves a little too early. She does her job well enough, so there’s no reason to complain. He would simply like it if they saw each other more... Which is ridiculous, he knows, because the point of having a maid is that she cleans his house when he’s away.

It just feels so nice to arrive home now that she's here. He’s never looked forward to getting back to his bleak modern mansion, but now he’s pining for his leaves like a young recruit who's got a girl waiting for him back home.

Even if she’s not there when he gets back, he can savour her lingering scent. He sniffs the dark woolen spread she might’ve slept under just moments ago, he eats whatever freshly baked goodies she has made for him. He sleeps with her underwear tucked under his pillow, and reaches for them before sleep. Or then he grabs them in the morning when he wakes up, already hard.

It’s nice to have an unhurried fap at home than to relieve his needs in some small grey room of a boring military base. It's far more enjoyable to stroke his cock with her tiny, cute underwear spread over his face. Sometimes he wraps it around his cock and jerks himself off to a quick, groan-filled release, adoring the way his cum stains her blushing strings.

His showers last for about 15 minutes nowadays.

It’s unheard of for a soldier, and he read somewhere that lonely and depressed people take longer showers because the warm water is supposed to make up for the lack of human touch and intimacy, and that may very well be true… But he also wants to take his sweet time stroking himself while using her conditioner as lube.

Coconut or peach, vanilla or argan oil, he lathers it all over his cock and imagines her hot, wet pussy. His hand is too calloused to give him any illusions of softness, but the mind-numbingly sweet scent takes him immediately back to her. Her eyes, her soft smile. The dreamy sway of her hips, the elegance of her wrists as she moves some item out of the way to sweep or scrub or clean a surface.

He faps with slick urgency, wondering if her eyes would go wide if she saw his cock. He wonders if she’s noisy in bed – is she a screamer, or a moaner? Would she claw at his back or simply cling to him if he fucked her?

And god, how he would fuck her…

Slowly at first, draw moans out of that soft mouth until she begs him to fuck her hard. He would drag her shirt up and her bra down until her breasts are exposed, then watch how they bounce as he starts to fuck her with purpose. She begins to tighten around him, looking so fucking desperate as her cunt starts to throb and pull him in. The first moan of surrender is needy and tight when she cums around his shaft…

He never gets any further than that because his cock spills with a violent jerk. He cums, long and hard across the tiles. Loads and loads of hot seed go to waste as he groans loudly, not giving a shit about making so much noise. Feeling hollow and deprived for not being able to shoot his cum inside her and then stay there, snug and safe and warm inside her cunt, he allows himself just one single sob.

He just wants to know how it would feel to cover her whole body with his as he slowly pumps the last drops into her. Sigh afterwards, breathe together, hold her close... Search for her eyes, check if she's in rapture too. Watch her come down from it while still squeezing him down there. Perhaps she’d give him a pleased giggle and a cute, weary smile.

"Scheisse–"

He leans on the wall, knowing that he's lonely, filthy, sick and obsessed. He lives in a dream world, and the thick conditioner takes ages to wash off. The withdrawal phase is worse every time he indulges in his dark fantasies and then has to live without her for weeks and weeks.

She's just his maid, a hired employee. She’s just an innocent woman with her whole future ahead of her.

He's just a colonel at a notorious private military company… He's just an old, horny, depraved soldier. Calloused, fucked up, depressed. Girls like her don't want anything to do with a man like him.

…

She asks if he wants his house decorated for Christmas.

She asks it with bright eyes and such a lovely smile that he tells her he doesn't own such junk, but he can pay her if she goes to choose him some and then comes back to decorate his place. Their unusual agreement gets more unusual still as she nods with shining eyes, then goes to the city to choose his Christmas decorations for him. He even lets her use his car, which is unheard of.

Soon, his windows are filled with lights and there are mistletoes hanging from the ceiling. She puts fancy little elves in the window, places Christmas flowers and candles everywhere she possibly can. He walks around the house with a coffee mug in his hand, suddenly awkward and shy when watching his maid put up the most sophisticated, elegant and adorable Christmas decorations he has ever had or seen.

Is this what a home should look like…? Warm, and light, and pretty, filled with cozy, useless things?

But it's not the items she got him that make a home, no. Home now equals rich, home-cooked meals, or the mouthwatering scent of cinnamon rolls greeting him at the door. Home is a cute girl, returning his obsessive stare with a small smile and telling him to stay safe before he leaves to kill people. Home is a woman who's the perfect wife material, so fuckable and sweet, who's fussing over the fact that he doesn't even have a Christmas tree.

He gets it before her next visit – meaning, her next shift – and decorates it himself. It looks clumsy and uneven and a bit sparse, but she compliments him on it when she arrives. The looks she gives him are so warm and playful that he starts to have some hope – hell, a full surge of it – and he also starts to miss his hood. He's feeling awkward as it is around her, he doesn't need to be blushing in front of his suddenly flirtatious maid... Men don’t fucking blush when a woman flirts with them; they fuck them until their knees give in.

With no small amount of hidden guilt, he finally confronts her with her underwear, telling her she forgot something and that he found these in his laundry pile. Taking sick satisfaction from seeing how she's the one who's flustered now, he forgives her for washing laundry in his place. He's a merciful man, after all.

There's still some cum on the lace as he returns her possession to her, and he hopes he's just imagining the shock in her eyes when she takes them back. It's his way of saying that he likes her a lot, but the flirting ends immediately, the playful smiles stop, and he knows he fucked up big time. The warm, lively woman is gone, she suddenly resembles an ice sculpture who's about to flee his apartment at any given moment, and he could hit himself in the head with a big metal bat.

What the fuck was he even thinking? That a woman would appreciate it if he returned her panties covered in old, dried cum?

He's a fucked up pervert, and he has lived in a dream world, and now reality awaits.

He shuts down and shuts up after that, keeps the connection pure, pristine and professional. She's just here to do her job.

The holidays approach, and he's sulking, knowing that he won't see her again in at least six weeks. He'll have to make do without a maid, and he'll have to numb his whole soul to get through yet another lonely Christmas.

Well, not lonely: this time he spends it with the decorations she got him. They can keep him company during the lonely masturbation sessions. They can watch him live on takeout food and remind him what a horny, sad loser he is.

So his last attempt, his last minor sin is that he gets her a Christmas present. She's about to leave, hurrying to some place where she's loved and cherished, or then about to get fucked because she has her hair and make-up done. The jealousy creeps up his spine like a viper as he watches her get all dolled up.

She's so very grateful to him for allowing her to get ready here and use his bathroom, and he plays the generous, kind gentleman while gritting his teeth, trying to ignore another demanding erection telling him to dick her down and make her stay down. Make her bake for him and sit on his knee as he squeezes her tits and watches her stare turn dumb. Tell her to douse the lights and light the candles, tell her to undress in front of that stupid Christmas tree, order her to lie down on the mat and spread her pretty legs for him…

She's standing at the door, a cute girl turned into a seductive goddess, while he's about to enter into another lonely brain fog. She grabs her coat and grants him one of those warmer smiles as he walks to her with an envelope in hand.

"I got you something... Merry Christmas."

"Aw… You shouldn't have…"

She accepts his gift delicately with both hands, clearly surprised and pleased. When she opens the gift, she laughs and then covers her mouth with her hand. It's a gift card to Victoria's Secret, and with a relatively large sum on it, too.

"Oh god... Ahah, okay. I like your humour," she laughs again, then gives him a wink and an exceptionally gorgeous smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He's fully aware that he sounds like an ominous, threatening robot. His voice has an effect on women; most flee, some get curious. She's one of the few who don't know what's good for them at all.

He never had a gift with females, and even with his position, experience and age, he still feels like he’s trying to court a breathtaking alien species whose native language he can’t quite understand or speak. The silence stretches on, and her smile slowly fades, making him perfectly aware of the fact that he should say or do something assertive, something charming, instead of just standing here, looming over her. When the playful stare then turns into a helpless, pitying one, the kind his mother used to wear when she discovered he had been bullied again at school, his hands start to go numb.

Jerk off and kill, those are the only things he ever was good for…

"Mm... I'm afraid I have nothing for you," she says apologetically.

Ach so… She’s ashamed for not getting him a present.

Well, shit. Fuck.

"Don't worry about it."

"No, I mean… I thought about it. You're the kindest employer I've ever had. I really appreciate it... and I love working for you."

"That’s nice to hear."

"I just didn't know what to get you. I don't know what you like."

He's trying to ignore the pull of his chest, the sick burning in his loins. His cock is stirring just from the way she's looking at him. Inviting, adoring, waiting.

"You already got me Christmas decorations."

"Yeah, but… You paid for them."

"Aber... You baked for me. No one's ever–"

He shuts his mouth before making a complete fool of himself.

"Well, I'm glad you liked my buns," she laughs, then bites her lip, realizing what she just said could be taken in many ways.

"I truly did."

She guides her stare to the floor and smiles, and the electricity between them… it just can't be only a fabric of his imagination.

"Take care of yourself. Ok?" He says, then swallows a lump in his throat, but it never quite goes down. She’s still waiting for something; the tension between them is petrifying.

"I will," she says, her voice a bit frail, and far too sweet. "You too. Take care."

She gives her last smile to him; it’s sad and somewhat disappointed as she turns around and reaches for the door.

"Wait," he calls, purely from the hard instinct that tells him to fucking do something about this heavy, sickening tension. She immediately turns with hope in her eyes.

"Yes?"

"I… Ah, glückliches neues Jahr."

"...What does that mean?"

"It means 'Happy New Year'."

"Oh," she laughs, "I thought it was something naughty…"

Shit.

Shit…

"Ich möchte deine Muschi lecken."

She freezes with her hand still on the doorknob. That fucking sentence was so dark it left little or nothing to the imagination... It was thick enough to make it clear that he’s not a kind, generous employer, nor is he a gentleman.

"What's that?" She asks, her pretty voice barely a whisper.

"Something naughty."

Her hand lets go, it falls to the side. She even tilts her head before her voice turns thick and suggestive too.

"Really…?"

"Yes."

"Well don't be shy. Tell me what it means."

Playful, naughty, dirty.

She wants to fuck. She wants to fuck.

Is this a filthy dream or is this really happening?

"I want to lick your pussy."

There's an intake of air, just a soft gasp. Batting of long, dark lashes, just before the stars in her eyes start to shine in full.

"Oh," she breathes. "Is that so?"

"Ja."

It wouldn't be the first time someone offers him cunt just out of spontaneous pity. It wouldn’t be the first time he accepts it. A man like him takes whatever he can get.

Pity is apparently what's happening now, because his maid starts to undress.

With a victorious shine in her eyes, she drops her coat to the floor, then unbuttons her jeans. Takes away her shirt and bra with shaky hands while maintaining that seductive, downright filthy eye contact. More and more of her skin is exposed as she quickly strips in front of him, finally slipping out of her black, see-through underwear while he's trying not to shake from dark urges and lust.

When she's naked, flush and bare, her fingers start to slide up her thigh. The other hand is pressed against her side as if shy. She’s either offering him a Christmas present in the most elegant way, or then she’s concerned about getting licked and fucked sore. It's like throwing a dog a meaty bone and then putting the hound in a loose chain, just an inch away from the mouthwatering sight and scent. She steals one look at his erection, currently trying to rip its way through his pants. The gross tent is pointed at her, and she knows it: she knows she has him on a leash, but only barely.

"Go ahead then," she whispers.

He falls straight to his knees, and presses his whole face against her softly trimmed hair. When he opens his mouth, she shudders, clearly not ready for someone this starved trying to devour her whole.

She doesn't know she's about to sleep with the devil… If she knew, she would be out the door by now.

It's too late now: he engulfs her, locks her in place by wrapping his arms around her hips.

Mein.

Mein…

He could rub his face in her sweet cunt forever, but that won't do: she said he could lick her, so that’s what he’s going to do. After a few bites and nibs, after inhaling the sweet scent of her and squeezing her long and hard in his embrace, he finally rises and carries her to his den. There’s only loneliness there in his bedroom, just stale sweat and old musk staining the sheets, but she softens on the linens when he goes down on her.

Her pussy is already throbbing and wet when he gives her the first, fat lick. Next up, soft little laps to make her thighs drift apart. Some long, teasing circles on her clit, and she starts to sigh - he’s not an expert, but he knows she won’t find a more enthusiastic cunt licker in this city. Or this whole country… Perhaps the entire world.

And she's not a screamer, she’s a moaner. She also whimpers a lot. He switches between giving fast attention to her clit, then slow tongue fucking to her hole. The scent of pussy fills his room: they only talk to each other through moans and whines and groans. He breathes into her like a panting dog: she whimpers under torture like she actually likes it, and likes him. Like she actually prefers his bed to any other place in this world.

He fucks her with his mouth, sloppy and hungry; he could french kiss her pussy forever like this. He could spend every evening licking her to ruin.

"Just like that… Just like that… Don't stop…"

He's as hard as can be; he's about to lose his fucking mind. If she doesn't cum soon, he might just die from having to listen to those unhinged cries.

To help her out – because he's a generous, generous man – he slips a finger inside, earning another spill of filthy moans.

"Oh god ohgod oh fuck–!"

She sounds dumb and helpless as he eats her out like she’s his last meal. His chin is drenched and his cock is hard as the poor girl leaks all over her ass and on his bedding. He adds another finger, starts to fuck her slow and steady. She's more than prepared for his cock, and when he starts to do the alphabet on her clit, she whimpers, whines, and finally, screams.

The feel-good hormones flood his brain when she cums. He kisses her through it and slows down the torture gradually, gives her some space to pulse and throb and leak against his chin.

Women need a lot of stimulation; that’s what he has learned. It’s a marathon, not a sprint, and he doesn’t want to ruin the explosion by overriding her senses. When he rises from a job well done, he sees how some of her makeup is ruined.

Yeah. Fuck... A screamer, a moaner, and a crier.

And he's only about to fuck her…

"Das war gut. Good pussy," he mutters and licks his lips, high above his pretty little prize.

"Oh–oh god…"

Poor thing is so flushed, desperate and helpless; she jerks as he taps her clit with his cock, whines when he forces the fat, leaking tip into her folds.

"Wait–"

"I will fuck you now."

"Sir… Please, could we use a condom? Please…"

She's still calling him sir like she's at work. Like he's her superior, or worse yet, an officer, a colonel she's not supposed to flirt with, let alone spread her weak little legs for.

"Hm. I don't have any."

"I do," she's panting heavy on the bed, clearly reluctant to get away from his cock, too weak to get up after his thigh-shaking treatment. It would give him a year’s worth of confidence to witness her in this state, if she would only let him finish the job. Right here, right now. Dip it in raw and blow a load inside that sweet, aching cunt. She might just end up with his child...

But the moment is ruined: he hates condoms, and he hates it that she has them with her. Jealousy starts to eat his mind like there's a can of worms poured inside his brain.

Who does she carry condoms for? Does she get fucked often...?

How many does she have, one, two, three? A whole pack?

She rises to get the darned piece of plastic, and the thick thunder in his head is making him seriously consider locking her up and throwing away the key. Women shouldn't be running around like that, hungry and desperate for a dick. She should stay at home, his home, and go crazy when he returns from war. The rage is the only thing keeping his cock from growing soft.

"It's too small," he laments when the condom is finally in place but barely reaches the base of his shaft. It's going to roll off if he fucks her like he intended to… Good, long, deep and hard.

She bites her lip as she stares at the sad little wrapping trying to render his cock harmless. Surely she can see how stupid and useless this is… Either he gets her a morning after pill tomorrow or then he pulls out, but the condom has to fucking go.

"It's… okay," she swallows. "It's okay. Let's just… If you're clean?"

"I am."

He doesn't tell her he hasn't had a woman in months. Almost over a year.

And he’s clean; he keeps everything…in ordnung.

He rolls the cursed plastic off, and his cock immediately bounces back up: hard, demanding and ready. He throws the condom away, just somewhere, anywhere, as long as it's out of his sight. Wasting no time, he's back at her cunt, and bullies himself in.

"Ah ja… Das ist schön… Sehr schön."

Nothing compares to the feel of a real cunt, hugging him tight. And fuck… He can actually fit fully inside her. He fits like a glove.

"Oh ja. Das ist... I'm not going to pull out. It's not an option. Ok?"

It's not a warning, it's a simple, honest statement. She looks at him with a fearful, desperate stare as his balls arrive to press against her flesh. Yes... nothing beats a wet pussy and a frightened stare.

"Ok…"

"It's better this way," he promises, wondering if it would make him a bad person if he disposed of her condoms first thing in the morning. "Ja?"

"Yes," she sighs. "Feels so good…"

The tightness in his chest falls down, all the way to his stomach and forms a bittersweet knot there. Why does she keep looking at him like that…? He's not hurting her, she's not exactly afraid, it's something else that's making her give him those dumb doe eyes.

"You're pretty," he rasps while trying not to start a complete fuckfest in every meaning of the word.

"O‐oh…?"

"Ja… It's illegal to be that pretty. Someone might want to fuck you..."

"Please do," she almost chokes on the words while looking up at him. "Please…"

If this is a dream, it’s the best dream he’s ever had. She's so perfect, far more needy and helpless than he ever imagined. He moves before he drives them both to madness.

"I'll fuck you, Liebling. As many times as you want. As hard as you want."

He can't remember when was the last time he sounded so soft. Or reassuring... He can't remember the last time a woman was so responsive to his cock. But he fucks her. He fucks his own sorrow into oblivion, too. He pauses only to take a good look at her and remind himself that he’s truly inside the sweetest pussy he’s ever had.

He even whispers lies to her ear about how she doesn't have to worry: he'll get her a plan B after this. The girl turns a bit wild now that it's somewhat safe to be fucked by an animal. She lets him lick and bite her breasts, and thoroughly abuse her cunt. At some point she grabs his face with both hands and kisses him, hungry and sweet. Squeals into his mouth as his balls slap against her ass, hugs him like a drowning person when he picks up the pace and starts to lose himself in her pussy. The feel of a woman's hands around his middle is a sensation he's forgotten completely.

"You like that?" He starts to talk nonsense between her sloppy kisses, pleased with his own soft voice, with her, with everything in his life right now. "You like my cock? Hm?"

"Yes… Oh fuck, I'm…"

Fuck, she's about to cum again... He's in heaven, no, he's somewhere near Eden. She suddenly goes still, and sinks her nails in his back, just before a cry cuts through the air. It reminds him of the aftermath of a grenade detonating; her moans pierce the air, and he can’t get enough of it. He wants to swim in those screams.

He was supposed to make love to her for hours, but it's crystal clear now that this won’t be a long session. He's a selfish asshole for chasing his own peak next by fucking her through her second orgasm like a rabid dog.

"Oh das ist sehr schön, das ist gut… Ach für–scheisse—"

He sounds a bit too pathetic, and quickly buries his face into her neck to escape her lovely, adoring stare. He fucks himself into a big, fat, blinding explosion, he can barely hear the thundering roar that meets her sweaty neck.

She's scared silent by his despair, poor little thing. And he just fapped this morning… But the orgasm compares to the first time he came, it's violent, abrupt and rough. Sadly, the descent is too heady, and too quick. Nuzzling deeper into her hair, he tries to listen to her heartbeat but only hears his own beastlike panting.

"Ok… Ok. I guess we both really needed that, huh?"

She's laughing and out of breath as she gathers their pieces and constructs some kind of a new reality out of them. He rumbles in agreement and refuses to pull out – now that he's inside her, he'll never fucking leave.

"Will you stay? For the night…?"

His question is met by complete silence. She just breathes, then buries her fingers in his hair. He feels like melting chocolate; for the first time in his life, he's somewhat relaxed and content.

"I… I'd really like to but… I can't. I have a party to attend.”

She gives him a quick kiss on the head, then ruffles his hair. She fucking pets him while he’s plunging into some deep recess with the raw, post-nut clarity.

She just needed a fuck… She just needed some cock. And a gift card, so she can buy nice things for the men she allows to lick her to ruin. Fuck… She's even worse than him.

“I'm sorry..."

"It's ok," he hears himself say. She’s too fucking gentle as she drags her fingertips across his scalp. Her other hand comes to trace his jawline, and her thighs hug his waist so good that he would have no trouble making love to her again. Just start another round with a slow roll of hips. Fuck her until they're both sweaty and crying, fuck her full of his cum and chain her to the bed, for safekeeping as he goes and gets himself a beer in between the sessions.

For some reason, he can't quite bring himself to act on this wish. Not when she just cried from how good he was, not when she's petting him like he's a good dog who's earned his rest.

He gives himself a minute before pulling out, and she leaves his bed in silence, tiptoeing into the bathroom in a hurry. Trust a maid to not want to stain the floor with cum when she just scrubbed everything clean…

She takes a quick shower and fixes her makeup, then picks her clothes from the floor. His heart is hammering in his chest, but his breaths remain even as he watches her get dressed. He even offers her a ride to the party, which she accepts with apologetic gratitude. It’s held at someone's home: a house party is a sight he has only ever seen from outside.

She gives him an uneasy, distant smile and a quick kiss before thanking him for the evening and the ride. Then she half walks, half runs across the pavement and up towards the door to be let in by her already drunken friends. Some man embraces her, and the white rage inside his skull is telling him to grab a gun, rise from the car and start a good old mass shooting. Instead, he guides his stare to the asphalt and drives off.

He goes home and has a beer, the rage and longing giving his insides a good stab every five or ten minutes. He watches some TV, then mulls over whether to sleep on the couch because her scent is still on the sheets.

It starts to rain outside, and reality kicks in. When it rains, it pours… He decides he actually hates Christmas, and he also can't stand the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls. Too tired to dump them in the trash, his feet carry him to the bed, cold and soiled and wrinkled from past love that never was.

The clock is only half past ten, and the doorbell rings just before he takes his shirt off. For the umptieth time this day, his heart starts to race, reminding him that it's not wars that are cruel, but women.

When he opens the door, she's standing there in the rain. Utterly soaked, dripping wet, sad like a stray cat, lower lip trembling from cold.

"Sir?" she declares, "I'm afraid to fall in love."

There’s a spread of wings inside his chest, catching wind like a soaring eagle. It’s a fell swoop and a heady high at the same time, a burning pain right there over his heart as he looks at her, lonely and sad and so adorably lost. Beautiful and wet, like a trampled little flower after a summer storm. She's perfect, just perfect.

And has she walked all the way back here…? There’s no sign of a taxi, no sounds of a car or a bus, and she looks like she's wetter than a wet dog.

"You’re afraid to fall in love…?"

She nods, then bursts into tears. Her tiny shoulders rise and fall with sobs, the rain makes long, wet strings of her hair. He takes a step and tries to pull her in, but she won't come. Stubborn, incredible little thing…

"Liebling... Me too."

"Really?” she raises her sad stare to meet him while trying to wipe her ruined mascara in the midst of falling rain. “You seem like the kind of man who fears nothing..."

"Oh I fear a lot of things."

"Like what?"

"Like… flying, for example."

"But you fly all the time?"

"Exactly."

She's sniffling and pouting and sobbing, like a princess who always got everything she wanted. He wonders if she's the kind of girl who would've laughed at him in high school, or looked him down her nose. If she would've joined the bullies and been the one to say she’d never sleep with a freak like him…

"Let's get you inside. Hmm? You must be cold."

She won’t come, no matter how hard he tries to coax her to come inside his dry, warm house. The rain falls in mats behind her as the city sleeps, vibrant and vigilant. He thought he already broke his heart to the point it couldn’t get more broken anymore, but the look she gives him as he tries to pull her inside is making it burst and shatter into pieces again.

If she's a princess, she must be a battered, broken one.

"Come on. I'll give you a bath," he tries to entice her. "And then we’ll tuck you in. That sound gut?"

"Yes," her shoulders drop as she finally accepts his asylum. "Thank you, sir…"

"And don't call me sir unless you want to make me hard."

She breaks into a fragile, shy smile while looking down at the tips of her drenched ballerinas. Then she allows him to drag her in.

He helps her out of her coat and hangs it to dry while his pretty little kitten gets out of her clothes for the second time this evening. A strong, powerful possessiveness settles in his chest as he guides her to the bathroom and draws her a bath. Then he pulls her shivering, naked body against him so that she wouldn’t feel cold while they wait for the tub to fill with water.

What happens next is soft and gentle, the kind of unhurried exploration he never had time to do because the few females he was with were always in a hurry to get away from him and his needs.

This pretty thing just eases herself into the bath. A timid but trusting little creature, who allows him to study her body like it’s already a possession for him to play with. She lets him rub her tits and tease her clit, caress her neck and face and waist. She does so with patience, love and hope. He’s been extremely tender and extremely slow with her; perhaps that’s why she doesn’t run away from him.

"You're too good for me," she whispers when his hand comes to rest on her stomach, just below her tits.

"...What?"

He barely hears what she’s saying, he can hardly hear her speaking at all because he’s there in the water with her, submerged in the hot, soothing liquid, even if he’s crouching next to the tub in reality.

"Oh please... You're everything a woman could want," she complains softly.

"What do you mean.”

She sighs and looks up to the ceiling, as if begging for help. Then she starts to list things.

"You're… Rich? And powerful, and strong. Kind and considerate. Mysterious... With a great body and a big dick, and still wanting to go down on a woman... It's insane."

He tries to remember how to breathe, but she’s not done yet.

"I'm sorry but… No one's ever eaten me out like that. You must be so experienced."

Her praise eclipses everything, even the thoughts of wanting to kill everyone who's had a taste of her.

So, the boys she's been with don't know how to please her… Stupid arschlochs don't understand what true devotion means. Even a fucker like him knows it's better to make a woman cry out of pleasure than out of fear. Although he always had a talent to do the latter…

And he's not experienced, he's just fucking horny. He just likes to eat pussy.

But that's not something she has to know. Better to have her keep the illusion that he's a dream catch, a rich cosmopolitan of some sort. What a joke…

"You’re literally perfect," she moans from the bath like the princess that she is. "How are you even single?"

"I'm not… right in the head, I guess."

"Well, neither am I."

He can’t look at her. Not when she’s open and trustful and sweet like this. But her hand comes to rest over his, under the water, under the safety of the surface.

"No one is."

"No. Wirklich, I’m a bit sick. Always was. I jerked off to your…" He leaves the rest of the sentence unsaid, risking a look into her eyes.

"I know," she smiles. "I don't mind… Actually I think that's hot."

"Liebling…"

"I think I’ve had enough now. Can we go to bed…?"

"Of course."

She giggles when he lifts her from the water, smiles as he dries him with his towel like she's a wet little kitten he rescued from rain. And perhaps he did... She caresses his chin when he carries her to bed, and reaches for him as he accompanies her under the sad, steel-blue sheets.

He doesn’t need to fuck her, not right now. It’s enough that she’s here: soft, trapped, and tame. His, just his.

Not another lonely Christmas for him ever again…

And she latches herself onto him like he’s the saviour she’s been waiting for all her life. Poor thing doesn’t know that he may be rich and powerful and strong, but he’s not kind. He’s not considerate, and he’s not perfect. He’s her worst nightmare, he's everything a woman would despise.

He’s single because no one ever stayed. No one stayed after they saw who he really was... Some even had to flee the country.

But he knows she’ll stay. He’ll make sure that this cute one never leaves. No, this one is not safe from him, even if she tried to escape him to space.

"Are you still afraid?"

He caresses her head, pressed against his chest. She’s unsuspecting and lovely, the perfect woman, hugs him so tight and sighs from simple, lamblike happiness.

"No," she smiles softly. "Not at all... I know you'll treat me right."

#könig x reader #könig x you #könig fanfiction #yandere könig #tw: dark content #könig smut

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jaylaxies · 8 months

Text

PERVERT!JENO

genre/cw: pervert!jeno, smut, roommates au, slight dubcon (recording and clicking pictures)

warning: 18+ content, minors dni

Pervert!Jeno who’s the sweetest person you’ve ever met, always ready to help you as a roommate but also making sure you don’t feel uncomfortable around him. That’s simply his strategy to make sure you’re comfortable around him, just so he can put up a sweet smile and manipulate you into thinking that his sweet gestures, such as long hugs and smiles thrown your way when you look at him, are normal when in reality, he’s simply trying to memorize your scent and ogle at your body, his eye smile making it seem harmless.

Pervert!Jeno who knows the exact time you return back from your classes and go into your room to change. He pretends to not be at home just so you don’t bother closing the door to your room, keeping it slightly ajar, enough for him to tiptoe and watch you get out of your jeans and shirt, standing in front of the air conditioner to get some cool air, giving him the perfect view of your body—providing him with something to think about while jerking off later.

Pervert!Jeno who loves giving you gifts which majorly consist of stuffed toys and plushies. At first he started by adding a voice recorder to your toy, which gave him the perfect and clear recordings of your moans whenever you touched yourself or in cases where you bring a guy to get fucked—which he hates, but the pretty noises you make drives him insane to the point he makes a mess all over his hands, the cum painting his chest when he reached his high listening to you.

Pervert!Jeno who feels even more motivated to step up his game and see your body in short dresses and skirts, which is something he buys in bulk around the time of your birthday, knowing well you’ll be wearing those, and you do exactly that. The skirt is so short, it doesn’t do much to hide anything, and he’s sly, keeping a hand on your thigh while watching a movie seems innocent enough to you, but to him? He’s living the best life caressing and rubbing your inner thighs, because he knows that soon, you’ll end up feeling the need to touch yourself thinking about him.

Pervert!Jeno who accidentally enters your room when you strip down to change, acting his best to pretend that he didn’t do it on purpose, shielding his eyes using his fingers with enough gap to look at your tits and cunt, the cunt he so desperately wants to fuck and claim. He would stay for a few seconds before leaving the room, apologizing softly, but he’s not sorry in the slightest.

Pervert!Jeno who loves to click pictures, having a small camera with him at all times. He’s clicked numerous pictures of you and so, you don’t question it whenever you hear the camera shutter, not even knowing that he’s an expert when it comes to hiding and capturing the most intimate moments of you. The media helps him jerk off, especially when he sprays your perfume on the stolen panties of yours, which he got from the laundry and wrapping it around his thick, veiny cock. He loves to soil them up, wishing that you’d wear a panty full of his cum someday.

#nct smut #nct dream smut #jeno smut #lee jeno smut #jeno drabbles #jeno x reader #nct #nct dream #jeno #jeno imagines #lee jeno #kpop smut

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milksnake-tea · 9 months

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━━ under the lotus leaves.

You've known Dan Feng long before he became the High Elder of the Vidyadhara, before he donned the title of Imbibitor Lunae and became the legend he is known as now. Long ago, back when the two of you were mere children, playing in the waters of the Xianzhou Luofu.

imbibitor lunae (dan feng) x gn!reader

contains: childhood friends au, set before dan feng is a criminal, slow burn, long fic, ooc!character for the first half bc he's growing up and is an annoying teen, mentions of blade's real name, death, spoilers for 1.2

genres: mostly fluff, hurt/comfort, some angst bittersweet ending

word count: 8.6k

a/n: please do note that this is dan feng, not dan heng. and therefore i take a lot more liberties with how he is because i firmly believe that dan feng was more of a bitch than dan heng BYE ALSO THIS IS UNEDITED !! ILL EDIT IT TMRW WHEN I WAKE UP I JUST HAD TO GET THIS OUT BYE

Your best friend was an extraordinary being.

There was no doubt about it. Regarded as both the strongest and wisest of your people, he was chosen as the High Elder, Imbibitor Lunae. And he has served you well.

His feats are plenty, with his joining the esteemed High-Cloud Quintet, and you couldn't count the amount of time he'd saved the Xianzhou on one hand. He was smart, intelligent, and witty, quick to understand situations and formulate the best solutions. His enemies feared his presence on the battlefield, and his friends trusted him with their lives.

As did you.

You, a mere civilian. A single face among thousands of Vidyadhara, another footstep among the crowd. You, who have lived through his past and present. You, who knew him better than he knew himself.

You, who has been by his side since the very beginning.

━

It was a stormy day when you first met Dan Feng.

You were just a child back then, a Vidyadhara only eight years of age. Normally, at this stage in your life, you'd be guided by the current high elder, but it seems that you had undergone your cycle at the same time as the past high elder.

So as life would have it, you would instead be raised by your seniors, while the Preceptors tended to the newly reborn high elder. A skilled weaver in your past incarnation, you were taken in by your then coworkers, and raised within your craft of making lotus silk.

As such, your childhood was filled with looms, lotus flowers, and spinning threads. You spent your free time in the gardens of lotus flowers, hiding from your caretakers amongst the tall stems and diving into the waters to swim amongst them. You may not have had the draconic features of the High Elder, but you still adored the water like any other Vidyadhara.

And as it would seem, so did the High Elder.

It had been a hot and sunny day at the Luofu. The rays were smoldering on your back as you waded through the lotus fields, thankful for the cold water splashing against your legs. You squinted against the sun, adjusting your leaf hat on your head. Tucked against your arm was a woven basket filled with lotus stems, all of which would have fiber extracted from them.

The tall leaves and flowers of the lotuses dwarfed your child self in comparison, although you weren’t complaining. Although the water sloshed around your thighs, requiring you to roll up your pants more than your older coworkers, the leaves served as temporary relief from the sun’s rays.

You pushed stems aside, the field looking more akin to a jungle to you. You only needed one more before you could return home to the comfort of an air conditioner in order to extract the fibers for the threads. Thankfully, that wouldn’t have to wait long.

Once you found a suitable stem to harvest, you snapped it from its roots and began to wash it in the water. Your basket floated next to you, you keeping an eye on it to make sure it wouldn’t float away.

But then, you heard the stems rustle, and the waters splashing as something entered your field. Immediately, you stood up straight, holding the lotus stem more like a weapon than a crop.

“Who’s there?” you called out, your voice ringing through the silent and tranquil fields.

No response.

You huffed, carefully setting down your stem in the basket. Whoever it was probably thought you weren’t a threat merely because of your age. You’d prove them wrong.

You heard the stems rustle one more time, snapping your head towards the source. Picking up your basket, you marched over to a large clump of lotuses, a perfect hiding spot (you would know, you’ve used it many times before). A shadow around your size moved within them, submerging itself into the water.

You rolled your eyes. Another kid, then.

Pushing the stems aside, you saw the flicker of a draconic tail splashing the water, almost wagging as its owner lay face-first in the murky water. Without a second thought, you set aside your basket, grabbed the tail with your grubby little hands, and pulled hard.

“OW!”

The tail’s owner toppled out of the water, crashing into you in the process and knocking your foreheads together. You yelped, falling into the water with a splash as you held your aching forehead.

“What was that for?!” A child-like voice, much like your own berated you, a whine in his tone.

Glaring through your tears, you shouted back at him. “That was for bumming around on my farm!”

Your victim/intruder, a young boy with long hair, met your glare with equal fire. “I wasn’t ‘bumming around’, I was just… Cooling off! It’s hot today.”

You squinted, clearly not impressed. “I don’t care what you were doing! You’re not doing it on my farm.”

He lashed his tail angrily, splashing you in the process. “I’m the High Elder. I do what I want.”

You stared at him for a good second, taking in his appearance. He was a Vidyadhara around your age, only he had draconic-like horns protruding from his head. His long black hair flowed around him, and his fancy white robes were drenched in lotus water. It would’ve been obvious to anyone that he was a noble, someone of higher standing.

“No you’re not,” you said, deadpanning. “You’re too small.”

The self-proclaimed High Elder flushed red with embarrassment, jumping to his feet.

“I’m still growing!” he insisted, stamping his feet and splashing water everywhere.

“The High Elder’s supposed to be big and powerful!” you said, throwing your arms in the air to emphasize your point. “You’re… a kid!”

“You’re a kid too-!” The High Elder froze in the middle of his sentence, his tail stiffening at the sound voices - adult voices. Quickly, he grabbed you by the collar of your robe and pulled you into the shadows of the clump.

“Hey-!” He slapped his hand over your mouth to shut you up. In retaliation, you licked at his hand, the young boy recoiling in disgust.

“Did you just lick me?!” he hissed, looking at his hand in horror.

“You’re the one who just grabbed me-”

“Shh!!” He put a finger to his mouth, shushing you. “Be quiet! Can’t you see I’m hiding?”

“From what, the Cloud Knights?” you gasped, backing up. “Are you a criminal?!”

He gave you a look. “No! I told you, I’m the High-”

“High Elder? Are you there?”

This time, you both slapped a hand over each other’s mouths. An unfamiliar adult voice shouted over the fields, calling for the boy beside you. You both waited with bated breath as the man searched on the other side of the field, only letting go when he was far enough away.

“You weren’t lying?” you whispered excitedly, looking up at the boy with newfound respect. He crossed his arms, looking all high and mighty now.

“Why would I be lying?” he said matter-of-factly. “You were the one who didn’t believe me.”

You really wanted to make a witty comment, but then you remembered your stems, floating out in the sun. Panic seized you. You couldn’t let those stems dry. If they did, they’d be useless to you.

You jumped to your feet, hurriedly running to your stems. Thankfully, they were still where you left them, and in the shade. You sighed in relief, knowing that you would live to see another day.

You peeked your head over the lotus heads, spotting the man who was calling for the High Elder. He was wearing some pretty fancy robes himself, the robes you recognized as belonging to a Preceptor.

Cradling your basket once again, you walked back to where the High Elder was hiding. He looked up at you in surprise as you reached towards what used to be a preening lotus flower, now a pod filled with green seeds.

You snapped it off the stem and popped out one of the seeds. After peeling the green skin to reveal the white center, you handed it to the High Elder.

“Want one?”

The High Elder was wary at first, but eventually took the seed. He chewed it in his mouth for a little bit, his eyes brightening at the taste.

“It’s sweet,” he said in surprise. You nodded, taking one for yourself before giving him the pod.

“You have the rest on this one,” you said. You pointed in the direction of the Preceptor. “The big guy looking for you is over there, by the way.”

“Oh.” He took the pod in his hands, still a bit freaked out by how it looked. “Thank you.”

“Master always said I have to make it up when I do something bad,” you said, picking up your stems. With a start, the High Elder seemed to realize that you were apologizing. “Anyway, I have to go now. The fibers will dry up if I stay out here too long.”

“Wait!” The High Elder called out, reaching for you. You turned around, raising a brow. His tail waved nervously behind him as his hand faltered. “What’s your name?”

As you answered him, in the back of your head, you could’ve sworn you’d read this scene before.

You tilted your head curiously. “What’s yours?”

His expression was strange. It was a smile of relief and happiness, just from you not knowing his name. The waters responded to his joy, swirling gently around him.

“Dan Feng,” he said, his tail wagging slightly. “My name is Dan Feng.”

━

You remember seeing him dragged out of the fields a few hours later. You had been extracting fibers from the stems you’d collected when you’d heard the commotion.

Dan Feng was having his ear talked off by the Preceptor, but he was being awfully obedient. The two of you had met gazes, and he had sheepishly waved at you. Your hands were busy with your work, so all you could do was giggle at his predicament.

Of course, that wouldn’t be the last time you saw the High Elder - far from it.

Dan Feng would visit your farm often, whether it was for eating more lotus seeds, dragging you to go swim with him, or just to watch you work. Your mentors and coworkers grew accustomed to seeing the young Vidyadhara waiting for you outside the workshop.

All of his visits would end in the same way - a Preceptor would come and take him away for his studies, droning on about his duty as the High Elder while Dan Feng rolled his eyes behind their back.

It wasn’t like he hated his duty. You knew better than anyone that Dan Feng took pride in his role, he was just… stubborn.

“What are you doing?”

You flinched at the boy in question’s voice. Dan Feng was practically talking in your ears, his face right next to yours. You leaned away, batting away at him.

“None of your business,” you said, turning your back towards him as to hide your hands. Dan Feng pouted but didn’t push.

“If you say so.” He turned his gaze back to the open fields. His legs kicked as he dangled on the stone wall alongside you.

You sat in comfortable silence, feeling as the spring breeze blew gently around you. It was tranquil and quiet, as the lotus fields always were.

Dan Feng found he preferred it that way. It was nice to get away from the droning words of the Preceptors, and this little farm served as his favorite sanctuary. He could spend his days here forever, just being by your side.

His eyes shifted towards you again. You were oddly concentrated today, he noted, working on whatever was in your hands right now. It was unlike you to be so quiet. Usually, you’d be talking about the latest gossip you’d heard from your mentors, or complaining about the weather again.

He strained his neck, trying to see just what was taking your attention away from him. But alas, you saw him and snatched it away from him again. Frustrated, he blew at his hair, lashing his tail in impatience.

Oh, well. If you weren’t going to show him, you weren’t going to show it. It wasn’t like he wanted to see it anyways.

Dan Feng went back to spacing out, closing his eyes, crossing his legs, and focusing on the world around him. If he wasn’t going to do anything, he might as well meditate.

He reached his senses into the fields, losing himself in the environment. His ears were filled with the rustle of each individual leaf, the soft splashing of water, the croak of the frogs, and the buzzing of insects that inhabited the fields.

He could feel how the wind felt on every plant, the warmth of the sun not just on his skin, but on the skin of the other aquatic animals. At that moment, Dan Feng became one with the world. Nothing could break his concentration.

Nothing, except perhaps for you, who was trying to grab his hand as stealthily as possible.

Dan Feng snapped his eyes open when you took his left hand in yours. Apparently, you were too engrossed in your task to notice his eyes on you.

You slid something onto his ring finger. Dan Feng tilted his head, raising his hand to stare at whatever it was you put on him.

A band of woven grasses encircled his finger, the braid intricate and tight. Dan Feng looked at it in confusion, rotating his hand to get a better view of it.

“Do you like it?” you said proudly.

“What is it?” he asked, bringing it to his face to observe.

“It’s a ring,” you said obviously. You showed him your dominant hand, which had a matching ring on it. “I saw a couple of girls the other day with those friendship bracelets. I figured since we’ve known each other for a few years now, we should have something like that too.”

“Oh.” Dan Feng blushed at your words, a giddy feeling bubbling within his chest. Suddenly, the ring on his finger felt heavier, but also much, much warmer.

“It’s nice, right?” you hummed, holding your hand to the sky. “I mean, it’s not like one of those beads you can just buy, but I think it’s pretty special.”

“I love it.” Dan Feng beamed softly, holding his hand close to his chest. “I’ll treasure it forever.”

It melted your heart to see him so ecstatic over something as simple as a grass ring. He was quite literally glowing from happiness, his draconic parts illuminating with a soft sea green.

“I’m glad,” you said, hugging your knees to your chest.

Dan Feng looked at you, gratitude brimming in his eyes. He didn’t reach out to hug you (although he certainly wanted to), but rather, only wrapped his tail around your waist, tugging you closer to him.

━

You loved Dan Feng, you really did. But sometimes, you really wanted to tie him up and throw him in a ditch.

You sigh loudly in frustration, jabbing at Dan Feng’s wound with an alcohol-infused pad. The boy in question hissed in pain at your actions.

“Would it kill you to be gentler?” he attempted to jolt away, but your hold on his arm was firm.

It had been many years since you two had first met. The two of you were adolescents now, nearing adulthood.

Dan Feng had appeared at your doorstep after training once again to escape his mentors, only this time with a bloodied gash on his shoulder. He’d tried to hide it from you, but to little success.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about this?” you shot back, angrily wrapping his wound with bandages. Dan Feng averted his gaze.

“It wasn’t anything they needed to know,” he said quietly. You paused in your wrapping to stare at him incredulously.

“Are you kidding me?!” You pulled on the bandages, tightening them. Dan Feng winced at your loud voice, waving his hand for you to quiet down. Granted, you did, but you still decided on berating him.

“Feng'er, this is serious,” you said through gritted teeth. “It’s not one of those scratches you can just lick away. What if it had gotten infected?”

Dan Feng sighed, opting to stay silent and instead watch you work. Despite your harsh tone, he knew that you were just worried about him. He didn’t blame you, the wound was pretty serious.

His eyes softened as he saw your hands trembling as they worked. Your face was a mask of angry calm, but he could see the shake in your eyes.

“...sorry.”

You blinked. “What was that?”

Dan Feng dropped his gaze guiltily. “I’m sorry. I made you worry.”

“When do you not make me worry?” you joke, tying the bandage into a bow. Dan Feng smiled sheepishly.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, touching your hand with his tail. “How should I make it up to you this time?”

“Hm…” You pondered the question, tapping at your chin before brightening with an idea. “I got it. How about showing me that little trick you were bragging to me about earlier, with the cloudhymm?”

Dan Feng laughed airily. “You always ask for that.”

“Well, no one around here knows cloudhymm except for you,” you said, crossing your legs on the floor. Your eyes practically glowed in anticipation - Dan Feng wanted to compare you to a puppy awaiting a treat.

The thought made his lips twitch as he held back his laugh. You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging him eagerly.

“So pushy,” he said dramatically, but you knew he was just teasing. He sat up straight, smoothed out his robes, and without further ado, he began his personal spectacle for you.

With just a flick of his finger, water materialized around him, taking the form of white lotus flowers in the air. Droplets stilled, as though someone had stopped time in the middle of a rainstorm.

You’ve seen this view many times before, but you were still amazed each and every time. A lotus flower hovered in front of you, bursting into a cloud of mist as you touched it.

You giggled, leaning back onto your hands, watching the lotuses drift off into the air. Unbeknownst to you, Dan Feng was preparing a whole nother surprise for you.

As your attention was captured by the lotuses, Dan Feng swirled his finger in the air. His signature teal water erupted in a spiral, taking the form of a roaring dragon. You jumped in surprise as it circled around you, flying toward the ceiling.

Dan Feng made the dragon dance around the lotuses, even bumping against your cheek. You squeaked as it did, light-heartedly glaring at Dan Feng. He only smirked back at you, before he enraptured your gaze with the dragon once again.

It glided towards the ceiling again, curling into a glowing orb of water. Dan Feng made a fist, and the dragon and the lotuses burst into a fine mist, making rainbows in the late evening light.

You were glimmering with awe, a permanent smile fixed onto your lips as you reached towards the ceiling to catch the mist. It was cool against your skin, like a little kiss from the rain.

“Am I forgiven now?” Dan Feng asked, amused.

You rolled your eyes. “Only if you promise to tell someone the next time you get injured.”

Dan Feng laughed. “Yes, yes, of course.”

You turned to look at him, only to find that he had been watching you this entire time, a fond smile on his lips.

━

“Are you sure about this?”

Dan Feng whispered anxiously as you skillfully maneuvered through dark alleyways and streetlights, your hand clasped tightly in his.

He kept looking back behind him, just to make sure that you weren’t being followed. He’d changed his appearance somewhat, making sure to hide his horns and tail, but he was still paranoid.

“Obviously!” you chirped back. You didn’t bother looking back at him, currently fixated on your destination - a crowd of bright lights, the smell of food, and the chatter of people. In other words, the night market.

Dan Feng let himself be dragged off by you, trusting that you knew these streets better than he did. He looked urgently back at you.

“When we get caught-”

“If we get caught,” you corrected, stopping momentarily to pull Dan Feng towards you. You let go of his hand to hold his face, pulling him to meet yours. “You trust me, right?”

Dan Feng sighed. “Yes, but-”

You squished his cheeks, effectively shutting him up. “No ‘buts’. What happened to the kid who would sneak off to swim in my farm?”

Dan Feng gave you a look, but with his face all squished up like that, you couldn’t take him seriously. Fighting down a giggle, you squeezed him one last time before letting go.

“Trust me on this,” you insisted, the lights of the market illuminating your back. “You couldn’t have lived for this long and not have been to the night market. You’ll love it, I promise.”

“And if I don’t?” Dan Feng hummed. You snorted, interlacing your fingers with his once again.

“Then I’ll do whatever you want later, alright?”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Dan Feng squinted as you pulled him into the depths of the market, the bright lights blinding him momentarily. The savory aroma of grilled meat and fried vegetables wafted into his nose, the chatter of friends, families, and lovers filling the air. The two of you were practically consumed by the crowd, the only thing keeping him from being swept away was your hand in his.

It was overwhelming, but not in a bad way. Dan Feng’s eyes widened with wonder as he took in the atmosphere around him. He wasn’t used to so many people being in one place, at the same time. In the lotus fields and in his palace, things were always quiet, still.

He could see children playing silly games with one another, jewelers selling their handcrafted trinkets, and so many street chefs, cooking right on the spot over open flames.

A tug on his hand broke him out of his stupor. You had been watching him all this time, a knowing smile on your face. You tugged him over to a stand that was selling what looked to be skewered balls of meat, dripping with a sweet glaze.

“They’re berrypheasant skewers,” you explained. You noticed Dan Feng’s disgruntled look and nudged him. “Don’t worry, it’s just the fruit that comes off their tails. They didn’t actually kill anything.”

“Oh… I see.” Dan Feng relaxed a bit after hearing that. You gave him a smile before talking to the vendor. Once you had acquired your skewers, you grabbed his hand once more, moving to a secluded corner of the market to enjoy them.

You wasted no time in biting off one of the fruit balls, closing your eyes in delight as you let it slowly melt in your mouth.

“That’s amazing,” you sighed in contentment, leaning back on a wall. You opened your eyes to see Dan Feng silently chewing on his. “How is it?”

“Sweet,” he said, swallowing it. “It’s not bad. Although, I prefer lotus seeds.”

“Really?” you asked, finishing off your skewer. “I like these better. Or maybe that’s because I’ve spent my whole life eating lotus seeds.”

“Perhaps,” Dan Feng agreed. He looked off in the direction of the market. “This place, it’s…”

“Loud?” you jested. Dan Feng chuckled.

“That too,” he admitted, “but the word I had in mind was ‘comfortable’.”

You hummed in agreement. “Well,” you said, pushing yourself off the wall. “We’ve only just scratched the surface. Are you ready?”

Dan Feng nodded. “Let’s go.”

Whatever happened next was a blur. What had started as you dragging Dan Feng around to try different food turned into Dan Feng pulling you to whichever jewelry store caught his attention. Sometimes, you’d lose him in the crowd, and run around panicked only to find him in the middle of getting scammed (to which you’d drag him off, giving death glares to whoever decided to prey on him).

You soon learned that this was a lot more tiring task than you’d originally anticipated. It was like babysitting a toddler - one minute he’d be standing at your side, watching you as you bargained with the vendor, and the next minute, he’d be across the street, trying on some new earrings.

And to make matters worse, every time you wanted to wring Dan Feng’s throat the second you caught up to him, he’d turn to you with that stupidly pretty smile of his, showing off whatever trinkets he managed to pick up this time.

And of course, like the weak soul you were, you couldn’t stay angry at a face like that for long.

But safe to say, you were relieved when you reached the end of the market and instead came to the edges of Central Starskiff Haven, right in front of the Jade Gate.

Here, the crowds had parted, allowing you to take a breather from your exhausting task. Of course, you were the only one who was tired - Dan Feng was vibrating with excitement, the brightest grin you’ve ever seen on his face.

“I take it you had fun?” you said good-naturedly, coming up beside your friend to watch the flow of starskiffs in and out of the Luofu. Dan Feng nodded, crossing his arms behind him.

“Most definitely,” he said happily. “The outworlder merchants have so many interesting things, I can’t help but be intrigued by them.”

“I could tell,” you chuckled. “I could barely catch up to you with the way you were running around. Imagine what the Preceptors would say.”

“We did agree that they would never find out, no?” Dan Feng pointed out. You shrugged.

“Fair enough,” you acknowledged. You gazed out into the glowing light of the Jade Gate before suddenly jolting in realization. “Lan above, I almost forgot!”

Dan Feng looked at you questioningly as you riffled through your pockets. His confusion only increased as you pulled out a small box, barely the size of your palm.

You opened it to reveal two jade rings, each with the image of a lotus carved into its band. Dan Feng feels his breath hitch at the sight, and something in his chest tightened.

“What…” he couldn’t even finish his sentence.

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” you said. “I figured that now would be a good time to replace the ones I made when we were kids.”

That’s right. You didn’t just choose today of all days randomly. Today was Dan Feng’s birthday, and the day he officially became of age. Today was the last day of his childhood before he would fully take on the title of Imbibitor Lunae and the responsibilities that came with being the High Elder.

You couldn’t help but feel proud as you watched him take the rings with shaking hands. He’s still that stubborn child who listens to no one but himself, but he’s become so much more. He’s grown taller, more mature, more dignified.

And yet, he still looked like he might cry from your gift. He mumbled something under his breath, something you couldn’t catch.

“What was that?” you asked, only to be pulled tightly into his chest. Dan Feng squeezed you into his embrace as he tried to steady his breathing.

Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his waist, melting into his hold. Such moments like these were rare, after all. The furthest Dan Feng had ever gone with you was holding hands. Hugs weren’t part of his vocabulary.

“You know…” he murmured. “In human cultures, rings symbolize marriage.”

“Well,” you laughed into his skin. “We’re not human, are we?”

“Yes, but…”

“Are you trying to propose to me, gege?” You looked up at him, raising your brow playfully. Dan Feng blushed at the nickname, averting his gaze.

“That wasn’t my intention,” he mumbled, flustered. He quickly let go of you, hiding his face behind his hand as he tried to calm his rapidly increasing heartbeat.

You snickered at him. “I know, I’m only teasing. Here, give me those; I’ll put them on for you.”

But despite your words, Dan Feng couldn’t help the burning heat that enveloped him as you took his hand delicately in yours, sliding on the ring. He couldn’t stop his heart from pounding, couldn’t stop his thoughts of newly engaged couples doing exactly what you were doing.

And most of all, he couldn’t stop thinking of how badly he wanted to kiss you in that moment.

━

Ever since that day, neither you nor Dan Feng have taken off your respective rings. Dan Feng always kept it hidden beneath his gloves, while you showed it off even while you worked. You’ve been asked many times who the other ring belonged to, but you’ve never given them an answer.

One of these questionees was Yingxing, a passionate young outworlder who had come to the Luofu hearing of the feats made by Vidyadhara craftsmen. You’d met through a common friend of Jingliu, one of Dan Feng’s friends in the renowned High Cloud Quintet.

While Yingxing was a blacksmith and you a weaver, the two of you hit it off immediately. The two of you bonded over creating for the members of the Quintet, with you being responsible for the threads that made up their clothes, and Yingxing their armor and weapons. Many times, when one of you had a day off, one could find you in the other’s workshop.

You coughed as smoke arose from the furnace, fanning yourself. Yingxing glanced over momentarily.

“Are you alright?” he asked, a bubbling laugh in his voice. You nodded.

“Yes, just not used to so much smoke,” you sighed. Yingxing wiped at his brow as he took out the pot from the furnace, pouring the molten metal into the mold beneath him.

“If it bothers you too much,” he advised, “you should step outside.”

You shook your head, jumping down from your spot by the window. “I’m fine, don’t worry. But enough about me, what’s this you’re making?”

“It’s a spear for the High Elder.” Yingxing moved aside as you came up next to him. “See the way the metal glows from a certain angle? That’s the remnants of the Reignbow Arbiter’s arrow.”

“Fascinating.” So this was the weapon Dan Feng would wield.

You waved away embers from your face, and for a moment, their light caught on the ring on your finger.

“You’re married?” said Yingxing in surprise. You stared at him inquisitively.

“No? What made you think that?”

“Your ring,” he said, nodding at your finger. You looked down before spurting a laugh.

“Oh, this?” You toyed with it, fidgeting it on your hand. “It’s nothing like that.”

“You don’t sound so sure,” Yingxing commented. You huff.

“I am,” you retorted, nudging him. Yingxing whined at the jab, complaining.

“Don’t you know not to provoke a man with a hammer?” he threatened good-naturedly. You, being the very mature person you are, stuck your tongue out at him.

“Yingxing?”

The sound of your best friend’s voice interrupted your play argument as the both of you perked your heads. Dan Feng bent down as he entered the forgery so as to not hit his horns on the door frame.

“Dan Feng!” Yingxing greeted, waving. “What brings you here?”

“Don’t let me disturb you,” the Vidyadhara said, his nose wrinkling at the smoke filling the forge. “I’m merely here to check on the progress of the spear.”

“It’s still in the process of being smelted, as you can see.” Yingxing pounded away at the spear, shaping it into his desired form.

“Ah, is that so?” Dan Feng nodded. “I’ll come back tomorrow, then. Keep up the good work.”

“You’re going to leave without saying hi?” you interjected, fake hurt lacing your voice. “I’m hurt, Feng’er.”

Dan Feng flinched, as though he hadn’t noticed you at all.

“[Name]?” He straightens, blinking rapidly in surprise. Yingxing swore he’d never seen the High Elder brighten so quickly - he almost didn't believe his eyes when he saw his tail wag with joy. “I apologize, I didn’t see you.”

“It’s alright,” you laugh, walking over to him. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?”

“You two know each other?” Yingxing asked. Dan Feng narrowed his eyes, fixing the younger man with a glare.

“I should be the one asking you that, Yingxing,” he said lowly, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “When did you and them get so close?”

“We’ve been friends for a while,” you answered for Yingxing, lightly hitting Dan Feng’s chest. “Be nice to him.”

Dan Feng pouted, reluctantly letting you go. “But-”

“No ‘buts’,” you scolded, crossing your arms. “If you’re not going to be nice, you can step outside.”

Dan Feng looked akin to a kicked puppy, but he relented. Although, when he saw Yingxing, trying his absolute best not to laugh, Dan Feng felt murderous intent for the first time.

His tail lashed angrily behind him as he watched you converse with the blacksmith, Yingxing sweating from the pure pressure of Dan Feng’s stare. He’d never been so relieved to see you go.

“I have to go now, but I’ll come back later, alright?” you said, waving at Yingxing. You squeezed Dan Feng’s shoulder on your way to the door, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Don’t give him a hard time, okay?”

Dan Feng only nodded, briefly touching his hand to yours before you finally left, leaving the two men alone.

“So,” Yingxing coughed, looking anywhere but Dan Feng’s eyes. “Feng’er, was it?”

“You will not speak of this,” Dan Feng warned. Yingxing raised his hands in surrender.

“My lips are sealed, High Elder.” Yingxing smiled. “Although, if I were you, I wouldn’t wait.”

Dan Feng narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“How should I say this…” Yingxing pondered. “If you stall for too long, someone will sweep them away.”

Horror shot through Dan Feng like a bullet as he gaped at Yingxing. The thought of you leaving him for someone else, replacing him, hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he gritted out, taking a deep breath to calm down. “They would never replace me.”

Yingxing blinked. “Don’t tell me you haven’t realized.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Dan Feng, you’re-”

“Dan Feng, Yingxing, there you are.”

Jingliu crossed her arms in the doorway, her apprentice, Jing Yuan by her side.

“Was that [Name] I just saw run out?” she asked, raising a brow. She shook her head. “Nevermind that. I needed to talk to you two anyways. We’re heading out in a week’s time.”

“What for?” Dan Feng questioned, furrowing his brows.

“The Denizens of Abundance have invaded our ally Thalassa,” Jingliu disclosed, her voice tight at the mere mention of the Xianzhou’s sworn enemies. “We’ve been ordered to drive them out.”

“Very well,” said Dan Feng. “We’ll see you then, Jingliu.”

She nodded. “Until then.”

━

It was the first time Dan Feng had seen death.

War was never pretty for anyone, soldier or civilian. It was dirty, dark, and grimy. In war, you had two objects: one, defeat the enemy. Two, survive.

Dan Feng cursed as he ran his spear through another borison, the ocean of Thalassa responding to his anger. Dragons made from water, the same ones he showed to you all those years ago, drove back the enemy, blasting them away and incapacitating them in the process.

He kept his eyes ahead of him, deliberately avoiding the ground. There, laid corpses of allies and enemies alike.

Death was uncommon on the Xianzhou, especially for a Vidyadhara. There were no soulless eyes on the Luofu, no limp bodies littering the ground. There were no pleas for mercy, no screams of pain and fear.

But here, in the midst of a foreign battlefield, all of those horrors revealed themselves, and bared their teeth.

Dan Feng made the mistake of looking down. His eyes met with that of a deceased borison, its own lifeless eyes glazed over. Instantly, Dan Feng faltered.

The borison looked nothing but a Vidyadhara, but their eyes were the same. It might’ve been a different species, following a different Aeon, but the intelligence and sentience were the same. They were a person, just like anyone else. Just like you.

Only this one wouldn’t rebirth into a new life. No, this one was spoken for, done in by his spear. They would never live again.

The battle blurred around him as he spiraled deeper into his thoughts. He knew that realistically, it would never happen, but he couldn’t stop the thought from resurfacing in his mind.

What if one day, you ended up just like that borison?

Dan Feng shook his head, raising his spear just in time to block an attack from an enemy. No. It would never happen. He’d be there to protect you. The Cloud Knights would protect you. Xianzhou would protect you.

But what if they couldn’t?

“Dan Feng!” Jingliu’s shout snapped him out of his daze. Dan Feng clicked his tongue, irritated at his own absentmindedness. The battlefield was no place for distraction; he of all people should know this.

With a thrust of his hands, his dragons came to Jingliu’s aid, healing her wounds and fending off the borison attacking her.

He was being ridiculous, Dan Feng berated himself. The enemy was vastly overpowered. Their victory would come soon. And when it did, he would be able to come home, home to you.

And he did.

It was nighttime when he returned to the Luofu. You were just finishing up before bed, setting aside the fabrics you’d woven that day. Your former mentor had just checked in on you, making sure that you were doing alright before they went to sleep.

You heaved a heavy sigh to yourself, folding the final sheet before setting it on a shelf. Dan Feng and the others had been at war for months now.

“I wonder how they’re doing,” you muttered to yourself, closing your eyes. You knew they would be fine. Jingliu, Dan Feng, and every other member of the High Cloud Quintet were blessed with powers that you couldn’t even begin to imagine. The invading Denizens would be no match for them.

But still… You couldn’t help but worry.

What didn’t help was how obvious Dan Feng’s absence was. You often looked over your shoulder as you wove, as though expecting the young man to be standing there, watching. The night market didn’t feel the same without him being dragged around to every stall.

The lotus fields, with all their flowers and pads, seemed empty.

It was as though a hole had been ripped out of your heart, leaving only a dull ache.

The sound of your door opening startled you. You swiveled around, utterly confused. Just who would be here at this hour? Very few people had access to the key to your home.

Perhaps one of the other weavers? Or perhaps your mentor again, worried that you weren’t getting enough sleep?

The answer was neither. A strangled whisper of your name, in such a familiar voice, cut through the night air like a knife. Tears welled in your eyes as you took in the sight of your best friend, finally home after so long.

“Feng’er?” you whispered. He nodded wordlessly, taking a few hesitant steps into your home.

You met him halfway, reaching up to hold his face delicately. Dan Feng closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a little sigh. His arm came to the small of your back, pulling you in as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent.

“You’re late,” you murmured, brushing your hand through his hair. Dan Feng tightened his arms around you.

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” you laughed, sniffling. “Do you know how worried you made me?”

Dan Feng pulled away from your neck, gazing into your eyes. His tail swayed, eventually circling around your waist. He gingerly held your chin between his thumb and index finger as though you’d break if he was any rougher with you.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, brows crinkling. Quickly, he wiped away your tears. Of all else, Dan Feng hated seeing you cry, and hated it even more if it was because of him. “I’m here now.”

You nodded tearfully. “And you’re not leaving, right?”

“Not for a while,” he promised. “Even the Abundance will need time to recover from the damage we did to them.”

“Good.” You held his face in your hands. “Because right now, you’re mine.”

“Is that so?” Dan Feng said softly. His eyes lingered on your lips, his lips slightly parted. “I’m yours, is that right?”

“Mhm.” You smiled as you felt him press your bodies impossibly closer together, one arm around your waist and the other behind your head. Your lips brushed against each other, your voice a whisper as you two danced on the edge. “Mine.”

A push from Dan Feng’s hand, and he sealed his lips with yours.

Immediately, you closed your eyes, savoring the taste of his kiss. His lips were soft, yet cool, like the touch of a river on a summer afternoon. He kissed you with a hidden desperation, years of pining and longing unleashing themselves in this torrent of affection. You almost couldn’t keep up with him, letting out a whimper as he tilted your face gently, deepening the kiss.

Even when you parted for air, it wasn’t long before Dan Feng greedily pulled you back in, addicted to the feeling of your lips on his. His hands wouldn’t stop wandering in a languid motion, slowly roaming all over you, from your waist to your back to your neck, and back to your waist again, squeezing every bit he could find.

By the time Dan Feng’s relentless assault ended, the two of you were breathless. Words failed to form on your tongue as you simply stared into Dan Feng’s eyes, trying to catch your breath.

Dan Feng pressed his forehead against yours, his horns bumping against you.

"You don't know how long I waited for that,” he whispered huskily. You let out a breathless chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling his nose with yours.

“I think I did.”

The corners of Dan Feng’s eyes crinkled. You’ve never seen them so up close before. The colors reminded you of a stone in a river, with cool grey giving way to gorgeous teal.

And the way he looked at you made your heart melt - it’s so tender, so soft, so filled with love that you can practically feel how much he cares about you.

And you can only hope that he saw the same in your eyes.

“I love you,” he confessed, like it was a secret. But even still, him being able to say those three words made it worth more than anything in the world. “I’ve always loved you, ever since we were children.”

Joy bubbled up in your chest, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling. Your hand came to his scalp, bunching up his hair in your fingers.

“I love you too, you dork.” You pecked him on his nose, and then his forehead, laughing as he wrinkled his nose in response.

Reluctantly, you released him from your grasp, instead tugging his hand into your abode.

“It’s late already,” you explained. “The Preceptors won’t mind if you come home late, right?”

“They no longer control me,” Dan Feng affirmed. You grinned.

“That’s good.” You lead him into your bedroom, glancing over to make sure he was fine with it. “I don’t have a guest room, so are you alright with sharing a bed?”

Dan Feng flustered, but he nodded. “Th- That’s fine with me.”

You would learn that Dan Feng was incredibly clingy in bed. He practically enveloped you in his arms, tangling your legs together as he hugged your shoulders. His tail was conflicted - either thumping happily against the bed or wrapping around you like a possessive snake.

But it was worth all of it. You felt safe in Dan Feng’s embrace, loved. In his arms, you slept the most soundly you’ve ever slept. It was as though you had found your other half.

You truly felt blessed when you woke up to Dan Feng’s sleeping face, so serene and tranquil. And fortunately for the both of you, that wouldn’t be the last time you woke up next to the other.

━

But those happy days were not made to last.

There would be many more feats Dan Feng would accomplish as the High Elder. He would become one of the most prolific Vidyadhara ever, forever documenting his name in history books.

You two would eventually marry, sealing your love not just with those rings. It was a marriage in the palaces of Scalegorge Waterscape, only the best for the High Elder. All of your friends attended, Yingxing and Baiheng especially praising Dan Feng (and lamenting about how he of all people got married before they did).

Jing Yuan had grown into a fine young man, his intellect and skill with the Lightning Lord being parallel to none. Yingxing was beginning to age, being a short-lived species. Jingliu had retired, aiming to end her days peacefully.

But as said before, that wasn’t what fate had planned for the quintet.

Jingliu would be driven mad with mara, her only solace being the blade of her former mentor. Baiheng would be missing in action. Yingxing would be killed long before his time, leaving Dan Feng in despair over losing three beloved friends so soon.

Perhaps that is what drove him to do what he did.

“How could you?”

Dan Feng winced at the crack in your voice as you screamed at him. You were crying, angry tears streaming down your face.

“My love, please-”

“Do not call me that!” you snapped, making him flinch. “You don’t get to call me ‘my love’ after that. What were you thinking?!”

“It was the only way!” Dan Feng insisted.

“It was cruel,” you hissed. “You know that more than anyone here.”

“They stole them from me,” Dan Feng growled, his eyes flashing. “It wasn’t their time.”

“I know,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying and screaming. “I know it wasn’t. But you know what immortality will do to them, Feng’er. You know what the curse of Abundance does.”

Dan Feng averted his eyes guiltily. You wipe at your eyes hurriedly, taking big, gulping breaths to calm down.

“What did the Preceptors say?” you finally asked. Dan Feng’s gaze lowered, a shadow cast over his face. A pit dropped in your stomach.

“They’re waiting outside,” he revealed. “I’m to be taken to the Shackling Prison, and forced into rebirth. They only let me be here to say goodbye.”

It was as though an anvil had been dropped on you, crushing you.

“No.”

It was the only thing you could muster out. You shook your head in disbelief.

“No. No, no, no!” you croaked out. “They can’t do that. Not to you.”

Ironic, how only a few minutes prior you were berating Dan Feng as though your life depended on it. Now, you were pleading for him to be forgiven, for a lighter sentence to be dealt out. Because for a Vidyadhara, a forced rebirth was practically the same as a death sentence.

“Isn’t there another way?”

Dan Feng shook his head, taking your arms in his hands.

“I’m afraid not. This is the only way the public will forgive my sins.”

He took a deep breath.

“Please, my love,” he begged quietly. “Look at me.”

You did.

“You have to be strong,” said Dan Feng, cradling your face one last time. “Promise me that you’ll be alright, even after I am reborn.”

You shook your head. “Feng’er, please.”

“Promise me,” he urged.

“I…” You faltered. “I promise.”

Dan Feng smiled sadly - the last smile you’d ever see from your husband.

“Thank you.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, a kiss to last you the lifetimes he wouldn’t be at your side. “I love you, [Name]. And I’m sorry for being such a selfish husband.”

You closed your eyes, savoring him for the last time. Silently, you told him your forgiveness.

“I love you too, Dan Feng.”

That was the day the love of your life died.

━

Centuries have passed since then.

You’re still weaving, now taking care of your rebirthed mentors as they had cared for you. There are children under your wing now, hoping to learn your craft and one day start a business of their own.

You still keep in touch with Jing Yuan, the general visiting your farm every so often. Each time, you offer him a taste of the lotus seeds Dan Feng loved, but each time, he refuses.

Yingxing has become the Stellaron Hunter Blade, cursed with immortality and the mara that comes with it. If he remembered you, he never showed it.

The Ambrosial Arbor, reawakened by the Denizens of Abundance, runs rampant, threatening the existence of the Luofu itself. You hear from friends that Jing Yuan had enlisted a group of outworlders - the Astral Express - to help him with the crisis.

And now, those very outworlders were standing outside your door.

“Par-” Jing Yuan coughed, cutting himself off. “Pardon the intrusion, [Name].”

He was currently being held by a young Vidyadhara, one that… Your breath hitched.

One that looked almost identical to Dan Feng.

Your lover’s lookalike noticed your gaze at him. The second you met eyes, he seemed to know exactly what was going through your mind.

“...I’m not him.” He repeated this sentence for the nth time today.

You smiled sadly.

“I know.”

You turned to Jing Yuan, taking in the general’s sorry state. The outworlders, a young girl with pink hair, an older brunette man, and a grey-haired teenager all seemed to be in similar shape, although definitely better than the general.

You stepped aside. “Why don’t you all come in? It’s been a while since I’ve had company.”

“Thank you.” The brunette, who you would later come to know as Welt, thanked.

As you turned away, Dan Feng’s reincarnation noticed a jade ring on your finger, recognizing it as the one he had woken up in.

“That’s…”

You hummed, raising your hand. You’ve never taken it off, not even when Dan Feng was reborn.

“You recognize it,” you mused. “I suppose that means he still has it?”

The reincarnation hesitated, but nodded. You smiled.

“That’s good. Say, what’s your name, little one?”

“Dan Heng,” he answered.

“It’s a good name.” You stepped away for a moment to the kitchen. “I apologize; the tea may take a while. I wasn’t expecting guests.”

“It’s no matter,” Jing Yuan assured.

And as you served tea to the Astral Express, you couldn’t help but notice: five people, seated around a table, enjoying tea. Just like a scene hundreds of years ago.

You chuckle to yourself, a carved lotus glimmering in the light on your ring.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #dan heng #dan feng #imbibitor lunae #dan feng x reader #imbibitor lunae x reader #dan heng x reader #x reader #reader insert #y/n #hsr 1.2 spoilers #archives 🏵️

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jjklvr9 · 3 months

Text

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

⇢ " 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨; 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴, 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘥 "

18+ minors dni !!

pairing: heeseung x older fem!reader (by a year)

genre: smut, slight romance

warnings: slight praising, mentions of blood, fingering, cursing, unprotected sex, do let me know if i missed anything!

wc: 5.3k

a/n: my first ever heeseung fic !! i have not been writing in a very long time so i'm kinda rusty and i'm trying a little different style of writing ;_; but! i still hope you all enjoy it <3

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You often wondered if there was more out there for you. Something that would make your mind and nerves twist in excitement, something that’d make you yearn for more. Something that would never make you think twice about, something that wouldn’t obscure your thoughts with uncertainty and ‘what ifs’.

A deep sigh escapes your lips as you shake your head, aiming to clear your mind. It's time to focus on getting that pending work done so you can relish in the relief of passing in bed. It was a Friday night after all.

It’s been a year since you graduated from university and the momentary happiness of completing a goal you’ve set flushed away when you began your first new job. The pay wasn’t too bad and it was the only way you’ve been guided to headstart on a career. Head start your life more so. You were beyond glee when you read the acceptance email, calling around your family members and best friends to tell them the good news. Yay! You’re finally earning money and doing something. The excitement didn’t last long, for the first two weeks on the job already took a heavy toll on you. The countless meetings, paperwork, overtime. Not to mention the commute home on the bus was dreadful after a late night. It became a routine you despised, slowly killing you from the insides and sometimes it showed on your face.

Your life beyond the confines of work bore a striking resemblance. The majority of your friends were entangled in their own busy lives and careers, leaving little room for regular meetups. Furthermore, your family resided inconveniently in an entirely different city, making it impractical for you to freely come and go as you pleased. Not that you’d have the energy to do so anyway. On most of your days off, you found yourself indoors, indulging in the solace of leisurely idleness. There was nothing better than being able to sleep without the expectation of an alarm blaring to wake you up too early in the morning for your liking.

But it was also getting dull. You couldn’t deny that life was pretty dull. You were grateful most times, having the security of a job and home was everything that was enough. Though occasionally, you longed for more. More to feel what life and this world could present. Even for the tiniest second, you desired to feel something different.

9:30 pm. Finally, you turn your laptop off for the night and raise your arms to stretch the extremely tautened muscles straining your shoulders. You’ve been working non-stop since your lunch break ended, dinner didn’t even occur to you till small growls churned in your stomach. Packing up your things, you decided to head down to the convenience store in the building before leaving to catch your bus ride home. Maybe some onigiri or a bento box would suffice.

Treading into the well-lit store, the cashier welcomes you with a smile along with the rush of the cold draft from the air conditioner hitting your skin at once. That woke you up a bit, forgetting how cold it would be in actuality outside of this building. It was winter after all. Your eyes survey through the food section, set on that last tuna mayo-flavoured rice ball before extending your hand to pick it off the shelves; when another hand seemed to beat you to it. This interaction caused you to jolt a little on your feet, waking you up fully now as your eyes dilated slightly at the man standing beside you. His hand was still next to yours by the shelves, only his successfully holding onto the onigiri.

“Oh, sorry. Did you want this?” he asks softly, or rather he seemed, apologetic with his eyes staring back into yours. “It’s fine...I’ll just..” you trail on, glancing back at the array of rice balls before aimlessly picking another. “take this one.” The man blinks instantly in surprise, you can tell, but what about you weren’t sure. “Y/n?” with your name slipping out of his voice, your eyes widened once again and this time you were surprised. What?

“You are..?” Not wanting to confirm straight off the bat just in case it was a stalker danger situation or something, you crease your eyebrows in question. “It’s me, Heeseung. From the basketball team.” Heeseung…Heeseung? Oh. Right. Heeseung. Once his facial features registered in your fatigued brain, recollections of university life played in your mind like a movie trailer. Were you truly this depleted that you didn't recognize this earlier? Unbelievable.

You knew him briefly through your group of friends who were also part of the basketball team, glimpsing him in the socials and games you attended, merely ever acknowledging each other with “heys” and greeting smiles. Heeseung was a year younger than you but it was hard to tell with his domineering height and build. Despite his rapport with your closest friends, you two never seemed to escalate the acquaintanceship. Yet, there was always a subtle exchange of prolonged glances between you two. You often notice his gaze and you'd find yourself looking back at him. His captivating charm and attractive features were no secret to anyone, and you were well aware of the magnetic allure he possessed around people. Well, those glances held no deeper meaning; they were just moments, fleeting and devoid of any significance, or so you believed.

“Ah…Heeseung. I didn’t realise it was you with your hair all black now. Sorry, my brain is kind of fried..” you convey with a slight smile, mixed with comfort and apology. It had only been a full year and a half since you last saw him, at one of the parties the basketball team threw before a big game. It was apparent he changed; grew a few more inches and his shoulders looked larger too. Black strands covered some of his eyes now, which differed the most drastically from the blonde he used to have. He looked really good even sporting in just a hoodie and sweatpants, you couldn’t refute that. Heeseung lets out a chuckle, taking the onigiri from your hand and strides his way to the cashier without another word. “Oh?” was all you could say, flickering your eyes in surprise as you followed him. “You don’t have to! I should be the one buying.” He chuckles once again; never realised his voice sounded temperate either. As he thanks the cashier and hands you the plastic bag filled with the tuna-flavoured rice ball you wanted initially and an extra orange juice, a smile curves up his lips. You thanked him quietly and showed a smile back, both of you now walking out of the store into the cold air of the night.

The darkness encompassed your surroundings, yet the glow of the streetlights and moon shine compensated for the lack of clear sight. “Hey, you didn’t have to..you know. But thank you again Heeseung. I should pay you back though..” The man looks at you with the same smile still plastered on his face, his hand pushing back his hair slightly. “Instead of paying me back, why don’t we grab a bite sometime?” Did he just ask me out? No, he’s just being friendly.

You weren’t certain if you were more exhausted than you thought, but you sensed a slight leap in your heart. You weren't exactly unnerved by the inquiry, but it certainly deviated from the norm for you, especially now that you're fully engrossed in the corporate grind. Work accumulated on too much of your life and mind, as well as on people around you that nobody ever had any time to do such things. Sure, you’ve been asked out for lunch and coffee, sometimes even dinner with a colleague but this felt different.

“Oh, yeah, okay.” you weren’t sure on how to react, nodding your head along with your words. You were shy. Heeseung chortles once again, noting this obvious expression from you. “Tomorrow sound good? Here, give me your number.” He says, passing you his phone. Was he always this straightforward? He did seem the type to be but encountering it first-hand was heating your ears and cheeks. You hope he doesn’t realise this, assuming it was from the cold. Nodding slowly in agreement with his suggestion, you take the phone from his hand and fill in your contact information. For some reason, your phone number seemed scrambled up in your head, causing you to doubt if you're even keying in the right digits. Saving it and handing the phone back to him, you retained your eyes on his. The sound of the bus huffing to a stop nearby broke your gaze, realising it was your ride home for the night. “Okay well I um, I have to catch that.” you tried not to sound awkward, pointing at the bus a few steps away as you took some in that direction slowly. “Ah, alright, I’ll text you!” Heeseung graced you with yet another warm smile, this time radiating even more brightness than before. He watches as you get on the bus and settle on a seat in the back, waving slightly when your eyes look out the window to him. You wave back as the bus drives off, his silhouette gently fading away into the obscurity of the night. It had been quite a memorable evening for you, as the sight of an old familiar face reignited something within you, much like the gradual lustre of a dried-out candle; and indeed, the flames do begin to flicker and glow anew.

As sunlight sifts through the curtains and gently tickles your face, its warmth prompts a soft, contented whirr to escape your lips as you continue to slumber peacefully. If that wasn’t enough to wake you, the buzzing sound of your phone sure did. It was a quiet Saturday morning, or rather, afternoon, considering the clock struck 12 pm. At this hour, the stillness persisted, and you were expecting a respite from incoming messages. Everybody was either too occupied catching up on their sleep and lives, but you’d forgotten there was a new number soon to be added to your contacts. Seizing it from the side table, you open one eye to take a peek at the notification illustrated on the screen before opening both in surprise. Perhaps even excitement, reading the words out loud in your head.

“Good morning Y/N :) Heeseung here.”

A bashful smile began to play on the corners of your lips, and your cheeks blushed once more at the mere thought of the text. The fact that he probably just woken up too to text you ‘Good morning’ at this hour; the fact texting you was the first thing he did when he woke up. You swiftly replied, not forgetting to replicate the smiley face he added to his good morning text. Within a few minutes, your phone buzzed again, leaving you no space to bask in the joy of having received that initial message.

“I hope you rested well :) What are your plans for the day?”

There's that smiley face again. Why did he have to message you like that? Such simple words yet they made your smile grow bigger. You turned your body to the other side, back facing the window now with your legs wrapped around the bolster. It felt like reliving high-school days being a young girl in love, smiling and giggling as you read the exchanged messages between you and your crush. You weren't entirely certain if your feelings for this boy amounted to a crush just yet, but there was an undeniable sense of something growing within you.

Heeseung was sweet, and he was really funny. It’s around 5 pm now, having been texting each other the whole day with a dinner plan for the night, you found yourself giggling once again as you read the joke he made this time. All you managed to do today was eat lunch and take a shower, with half the other time spent typing your fingers away on your phone. Over the course of a few hours, the bond between you two clicked instantly and deepened, ease and comfort settling enough for Heeseung to have flirted a little bit here and there. You did appreciate his gestures, noting his flirtatious manner, which leaned more towards showering you with compliments and engaging in innocent teasing. Glancing at the time once more, you figured it was time to get ready for the dinner he had planned for the both of you.

Gazing at your reflection one final time in the mirror, a smile graces your lips as you adjust your flared-sleeve top and skirt to perfection. The sound of your phone ringing caught you off guard, stumbling a little as you hurriedly put on your jacket and picked it up. “Hey, I’m outside.” Heeseung sounded like he was smiling over the phone, the hint of excitement couldn’t be missed from his tone. An involuntary smile finds its way to your lips, peeking through the window to see him standing outside with his back resting against his car; dressed handsomely in a pair of loose black pants, matching it with a black collared shirt and jacket. God, even in simple clothing or dressed up, Heeseung always looked good. Despite hours of conversation, a flutter of nervousness still lingered within you. Heart beating louder and quicker with every step closer you took to him, the sight of his glinting eyes seemed to relax you.

Breathe. It’s just Heeseung.

“You’re so pretty.” He blurts out as you become clearer in his line of sight; and with the subtle reddening of his cheeks, you discern that he hadn't intended to express it so candidly. He blinks slowly as if he was coming back from a daze, clearing his throat. “Come on, let's go.” the boy says, opening the car door with one hand and the other leading you to get in. What a gentleman.

“Y-you look really good too.” Did you just stutter? Pursing your lips in embarrassment, you tried to save face by giving a small smile. Cute, he thought and as usual he chuckled in response. The ride to the restaurant turned out to be less awkward than anticipated, and as the night unfolded, you discovered yourself becoming more and more comfortable in his company, easing into the evening with each passing moment. Engaging in conversation, you delve into the recounting of shared experiences in university and reminisce about mutual friends, weaving a tapestry of memories and connections. Diving deeper, you navigate through a multitude of topics, slipping past the surface to explore more facets of each other's lives. Amidst soft laughter that punctuates the conversation, you discover that there's an inexhaustible well of things to talk about with each other.

In that fleeting time, everything felt perfect and your heart did the leap once more. Whenever there was a minute of silence between the two of you, Heeseung would look up to you with a smile, reaching his hand out across the table to hold onto yours. You found yourself pondering whether he might be experiencing the same nervousness as you, despite his outwardly composed and confident demeanor. Yet, every now and then, you caught a slight flush creeping up to the tips of his ears, offering a glimpse into his inner thoughts.

Nothing could’ve beat the night you had, if you had to compare it with all the others you spent rotting alone at home in your bed. With everything running smoothly, what could go wrong? It felt like you two grew closer not just emotionally but physically as well, being cosy enough to hold hands as you walk out of the restaurant together now.

“Oh shit, I think I left my phone on the table.” Heeseung says, patting down his jacket and pant pockets a few times, apologising to you as he hurriedly walks back in. You giggle a little at his clumsiness, standing at the side of the restaurant waiting for him to come back. It was getting later in the night now, the cold air tingling down your skin making goosebumps rise. No amount of clothing or jackets was enough for the temperature that drops at night.

Bits of the evening kept replaying in your head and you couldn’t help but smile a little to yourself. It was yet to end until Heeseung sent you home but you were already reminiscing the time you shared. He surprised you in a way; with how effortless it was to talk to him, to share with him the things you’ve always had in mind. He made you feel accommodated and heard; like he really wanted to know you. Like he really wanted you to know him. There undoubtedly was a paradoxical sense that you and he had an enduring connection as if your souls had been intertwined for eternity. What took you so long to finally talk to him? It made you excited, knowing there would potentially be more of him in your life after this.

“You alone?” a slurred-out voice pulls you out of your thoughts, surprising you, even more, was the tall man standing in front of you now. He didn’t look too old, nor did he look too young, but he did look wasted. You were seemingly scared and decided not to pay any mind to the stranger, hoping he’d just walk away and stop bothering you; but to no luck, the man remained there. Pestering and being persistent in having a conversation, he started to annoy you. Annoy more than how scared you felt before. Annoyed about what's taking Heeseung so goddamn long to come back. Before you could muster the words to dismiss the man, he unexpectedly takes hold of your wrist, as if intending to lead you away. “Come, let's go get some drinks!”

“Let her go.” Tone harsh and low, Heeseung was evidently angry at the stranger bothering you. He made sure to be delicate, grabbing your waist to pull you off from the man’s grip and fall back close to his chest. “Who the fuck are you?” The stranger retaliates, puffing up his chest as if he were trying to scare Heeseung off. It would take more than just a little show to get him to back down from guarding you, not even a mere attempt at a punch in the face could. Heeseung scoffs in spite, unfazed at the hit; his own fist curling up to show the man how it was actually done. You gasp softly, being pushed to the sidelines as Heeseung lands his hard knuckles on the man’s face. It clearly did the damage he meant to, seeing how the man was now wincing and scurrying off in pain and curses. You felt a wave of relief wash over you as the dispute came to an abrupt end. “Heeseung, are you okay? Y-you’re bleeding!” A small red hue illuminates from the corner of his lips, quickly being licked off by his swift tongue. Though the bleeding continued to slowly seep through. “I’m fine if you’re fine. Let’s get you home.”

You weren’t going to lie, besides the worry you felt for Heeseung getting into a physical altercation, the sight of him all strong and protective like that kind of made your insides turn. In a good way. Never mind that he was younger, the fact he was protective towards you and even took out a hit for you; ten folds attractive in your eyes. The whole ride home remained shrouded in silence, with a subtle tension lingering in the air. His hand held yours firmly as he drove, a silent reassurance amidst the quiet unease. Caressing your hand with his thumb, indicating he was worried for your well-being and this soothed you immensely. Pulling up to your driveway, Heeseung turns to face you, hand still firmly clasped with yours.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. I just didn’t want you to get hurt.” He starts, hanging his head down low as if he was ashamed to meet your eyes.

You give his hand a little tug, signalling him to ease up. “It’s okay. You’re the one who got hurt though..” unconsciously (or not, you weren’t even sure yourself anymore) your lips form a small pout, eyes wide focused on Heeseung’s face with slight glances at his bleeding lips. He notices this, and instead of wiping them off, Heeseung slowly leans his face closer to yours till your noses brush against each other and he pauses there. His breath wandered around the air near you, the warmth emanating from his body exuding into your skin and creating a calming closeness. His scent was undeniably pleasing and so close, the black strands of his hair softly poking on your own cheeks. Electrifying, both heartbeats getting louder and louder you could almost feel it claw its way out. You held your breath at that moment, fearful that any wrong move might cause the enchantment to disperse. You’ve never felt like this before, and you’d do whatever it takes to keep feeling it.

Your thighs seemed to rub against each other, warmth burgeoning in your stomach and extending downward. In one brisk second, Heeseung plants his lips onto yours and immediately you reciprocate. It felt tender and pacifying, radiating sincerity and solace.

You could feel the speck of passion pouring into your heart, flowers blooming as the garden grows. It grows, wilder with a pinch of fire now, as Heeseung pushes for more with how deep and harsher his lips felt. Your sanity erupts into a chaotic symphony, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. His hands had seemed to find themselves on your bare thighs, gripping them like his life depended on it. Fingers tracing up your skin till it reaches the hem of your skirt, you feel it daringly push the fabric away and climb higher. With the soft touch of his finger on your now-soaked underwear, a soft moan escapes your lips. Your hands encircled his neck, drawing him nearer, the desire for more amplifying with each lingering touch of his piers. Heeseung pushes his tongue in at the brief parting of your lips, licking your cavern wet and continues to weave both of your tongues together, sucking on them ever so roughly.

Breaking the kiss, now messy and sloppy with saliva running down your jaw, you somehow felt your lips still parched. As if it were insufficient, leaving an unquenched longing for his flavour. Tracing your tongue on the edges of his crimson-covered lips, you sniffle a moan at the taste of him. Despite the tempting urge to nibble more onto them, you resisted, mindful of not wanting to inflict any more hurt upon him than he had already endured.

Inclining into him again, his finger resting on your underwear has started to make its movements; nice and slow. He rubs them in a circular motion; wanting to tease you a little bit more. You moan in between kisses, your own hands now gripping onto his shirt to tug and pull him closer, bodies pressing against each other. With that eagerness coming from you, Heeseung holds your underwear to the side with his thumb, pushing two fingers into your folds without breaking the kiss. You gasped at this, unconsciously biting onto his lower lip a little bit too hard than you intended. It created a little bloody mess, but nothing you couldn’t fix.

You tenderly murmur a soft apology, delicately licking away every trace of red left on his lips, seeking to soothe any discomfort.

“You’re such a good girl, cleaning up after your mess. My good girl.” the man coos under his breath, fingers pushing themselves further into you, accelerating the pace as the seconds go by. My good girl. There's that heart leap again. A fleeting moment of uncertainty crosses your mind as you ponder whether he expressed those words in the heat of the moment

or if he meant it, but the way he handled you and kissed you earlier seemed to pivot the pendulum towards it being honest. At least, that's what you wanted to believe.

The muffled sounds escaping you grow more pronounced, escalating in intensity with the hold on his shirt tightening within the grasp of your fingers shortly before they sneak downwards to the growing mound in his pants; gently but firmly grasping its contours. This prompted a hiss from him, his lips pressing even deeper into the yours than before.

You've never encountered such an exhilarating feeling like this, as Heeseung's firm fingers gradually heighten the vigour of euphoria seeping up your senses. "Ah, more..more."

The man smirks in response to your desperate plea, forcefully pushing his fingers deeper before withdrawing them completely. Dismayed at his retraction, your eyes fluttered as you leaned back from him, gasping for the breath you had momentarily lost.

"More what? What is it that you want, baby?"

With a raised eyebrow, he questions, attempting to suppress a grin that you catch in his expression. Ignoring the blush taking shape on the apples of your cheeks, you briefly scrutinise him; his shirt bore a charming dishevelment, his tousled hair adding a touch of allure, making him exceptionally more attractive in sight. The burgeoning bulge beneath your clammy palm subtly twitches, drawing your focus to its presence; making it known to you of his equal excitement at what you're about to say.

"I want you to fuck me, Heeseung. Please."

A groan escapes his lips in response to your words. Without uttering another sound, he withdraws from you and begins lowering his pants and boxers down to his thighs; springing out his ever-so-eager cock free. Damn, what a sight. Heeseung clearly overpacked on your anticipations in this department.

How much more pleasure could he bring you now, considering the sensations his fingers alone prompted? Your insides ignite further at this view, body flushing with heat and throat drying at the mere thought of how he would taste and feel inside of you.

"Like what you see?" With his grin no longer concealed, the man wastes no time in pushing his seat back to create space, pulling you up to straddle his lap, facing him. A loud grunt breaks free past his lips at the pressure, sending a thrill of giddiness through you. Each time his subtle noises reached your ears, it professed that you were doing something right, eliciting a sense of satisfaction for the pleasure you were giving him. "It's not even in yet." you giggle softly, pulling your own underwear down to your thighs. "Someone's impatient." Though he started with the tip of his erection gently brushing against your clitoris, he swiftly proceeded to thrust himself inside your entrance.

"Fuck."

Both of you utter the same word, yet in two distinct tones – yours emerging as a whine of pleasure, and his as a gratifying groan. The folds of your clit envelope him completely, with every quickening thrust he pushes in constricting yourself around his cock.

The strands of his hair, once framing his face, now clung damply to his forehead, hooded eyes barely peering through them yet intensely staring into your orbs. Countless thoughts inundated your mind under the weight of his intimate gaze, leaving you unable to focus on any single one. In this moment, concentration eluded you entirely; even the disbelief that Heeseung was pounding you out in his car right now. This is crazy. I'm crazy.

"Damn, you feel so fucking amazing." his hands wander underneath the back of your skirt, grabbing the flesh of your ass ever so roughly as it bounces up and down his stripped thighs. “Oh fuck me-faster please..!” you squirmed in painful ecstasy as the wetness of your gushing clit slides his erection in and out of your tightness with ease. Heeseung accelerates his pace even further, seemingly preempting your unspoken demands. With your hands wrapped around his neck, you pull his chest closer to brush the tip of your hardened nipples beneath your top, and that causes you to moan out his name. The heated boy buries his face in the crook of your neck now, leaving soft brushes of his tongue against your skin and sinks his teeth into them rough enough to leave distinct marks.

"You taste so fucking good too. You're just perfect." You hear his raspy voice mutter under his breath, face still grazing on the skin of your neck as if he was savouring your scent. Feeling the tip of his cock pushing itself exactly into your right spot, you whine out his name repeatedly. The back of your body arches, your toes curling at how hot the air stands; all sorts of emotions strike you at once as your sight goes blurry, mind growing hazier by the second.

"Mmhm..faster Heeseung. Your cock feels so good in me.” this time, you moan even louder, indicating that you were on the brink of reaching the climax of your high very soon. Heeseung took notice of this, quickening his thrusts as he was about to reach the same destination.

"Cum with me, baby. Together."

Hoarse, low groans escaped from his lips with each accelerated movement; the cry of pleasure lamented out both your breaths the moment he blew in one final deepened jab at your spot. A surge of warm fluid cascaded through you, blending seamlessly with your own essence, propelled by the sheer bliss you've just shared. The air was filled with the sounds of heavy, hurried breaths, your lungs working overtime. Your eyes remained fixed on Heeseung's face as you endeavoured to recover composure and catch your breath. Finally, a sense of clarity returned to you as your thoughts regained focus. Did that really just happen? Everything seemed surreal, as if plucked from a dream.

Somehow it appeared like he could read your mind when he laughed at your countenance, his hands now accommodating on your waist to pull himself out of you slowly. As you lean in, finding comfort by resting your head on his chest, the rhythmic thumping of his heart surrounds your ear. The sound was loud and hastened, almost palpably carrying the nervous anticipation in its rapid beat, reminiscent of your very first kiss together. Well, you've done so much more than that now. Freeing his hands from your waist, Heeseung tenderly cradles you with one arm while the other softly strokes your head, radiating care and affection in his touch. He showers your forehead with soft pecks, each one a tender expression of adoration, accompanied by whispered sweet confessions that linger in the air.

"You're really beautiful, I've always thought that."

You both stay like that for a while, reluctant to disrupt the intimacy you shared. However, the reality of your semi-nude state in the confines of a car eventually nudged you both to acknowledge that the moment couldn't last forever. Not right there. The unexpected series of events that unfolded tonight, stemming from your fateful meeting just the day before, had taken a turn you hadn't even considered viable with him. In retrospect, those exchanged glances at the parties and games back then seemed to carry a newfound meaning now. Life wasn't so dull anymore.

Gently disentangling yourself from his embrace, you meet his eyes once again before placing a tender kiss on his cheek. "Let's go inside." you chuckle, sliding off his lap and back to the passenger seat while fixing your clothes. In sync with your decision, Heeseung follows suit, concurring with the idea of heading back inside your house; as the rest of the night evolved with an abundance of conversation and lots and lots and lots of cuddles.

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rizsu · 6 months

Text

you're married to geto suguru, yet you plan to kill him. interesting, right? truth be told; you despise suguru. you loathe his touch, hate his voice, detest his entire person as a whole. you never loved him — it was simply just toleration.

suguru... he's a decent husband, at most. he gives you money — which is most important — he buys you gifts, he's home, at least. suguru gives you everything but himself. you cried for his touch, he never gave it. you begged for his presence, he said he had pressing business to attend to. he's the best but worst fucking husband ever.

it's not only his negligence, it's him slowly replacing you with someone else. slowly, but surely, you've noticed that another person has been consuming your presence, wringing you dry of the little authority you had within the geto residence. at first, it bothered you to the core. every time you spoke to suguru about these concerns, your voice echoed through the walls like a broken record. in one ear and out the other; heard but not listened.

your tears dropped, yet to him it did nothing but cause a wet mess. he'd always sigh, feeling guilty to leave you spiraling in your emotions. "don't cry, love," he'd say, whispering sweet nothings in your head. he'd bring you to his chest, completely swallowing you in his hold. his fingers would caress your body, reminding you that you're a geto, you're apart of him now. you're not alone. only the foolish marionette will melt in its master's dull words. once the marionette was you, twice is what it won't be.

the honeymoon phase wilted, what's left is nothing short of two adults tied together by a piece of paper. a liar is what you refuse to be. if anyone may ask, you will not lie. it's true, your heart feels heavy. you miss the suguru you met as naive teenagers, you miss the suguru who loved you from the moon and back. unfortunately, what comes must go. you've grown tired of being the sole one who reminds him about anniversaries and birthdays.

his effort to maintain the marriage no longer exists. his attraction to the mistress heightens every week. it hurts, yes, but you're numb to it. hell be damned you've become the forgotten wife but never will you ever be the wife who allows her cheating husband to be.

no, never. they won't get a laugh out of you — they won't get the last say. the blame glazes over both, yet it soaks suguru more. as a married man, he should've known better than to entertain a mere lady's lust to him. now comes his price to pay, and soon she will pay hers. a circus that walks together, dies together.

it's never easy planning a murder. you don't want to get caught — prison isn't somewhere you'd want to be. the easiest and most effiecent way to ensure suguru's death will be poisoning. not just any poisoning, however. a poison that kills naturally; something that'll make his death appear natural.

suguru's always been a healthy man, using an excuse such as "he fell ill," won't work. he doesn't have much enemies. his peers loved him. a death by food poisoning seems much more acceptable. food poisoning occurs in many ways: for example, if the food has been left out for too long, boom, food poisoning. it's not unusual for one to die by it, so the plan sets sail.

──

one: errands.

as usual, your role of playing the forgotten wife will remain the same. running your ‘errands’ will be as easy as flipping a page, suguru pays you no attention. today it'll be the same. the only obstacle would be to find the energy to arise off of the bed.

the subtle sunlight grants the room a warming aura, giving the perfect contrast together with the air conditioner. like always, suguru's gone. the only trace of him being here would be your memory of him sneaking in last night. at least he has enough manners to not wake you.

same old, same old. you'll only waste your energy worrying about him, let's just finish the morning routine.

"morning," out of habit, you greet the empty house. coming out of slumber to be greeted by an empty home used to do numbers to you. now, it doesn't. its merely a house cosplaying as a home.

the oh-so fluttering dreams of a married life with suguru have dusted away. if only you can go back in time and stop your lovesick self. whatever, no use dwelling on it now. there's a plan to layout.

a single toasted slice of bread, your bottle of water, a handbag, and the car keys are all you took out the door with you. the house keys are attached together with the car keys so it's not a worry. not like you'll be back before suguru anyway.

the drive feels silent. although the radio's on, it feels empty. maybe it's the effects of your clouded mind, or maybe it's you attempting to clear your mind. either way, it's nothing but trivial matters. at this very moment you most likely have to stitch up a lie believable enough to obtain the poison.

chilly, is what you think. you're at the destination; it's an apartment complex that was in the makings but was abandoned. it's dirty, puddles of water decorate the floor, and its filled with dealers and criminals alike. can't blame them, it's the perfect place for a hideout. coming here alone as a woman is something you'd never do... without a weapon that is. you don't own a gun, but you do own a pocket knife.

"psst," someone calls out. they must be calling another person. let's just continue walking.

"you, woman," they call again. surely it's not you. let's just speed up the pace.

"oi, rude bitch 'm talking to you," they specify and surely enough they aren't calling you a bitch, right?

"you're not talking to me with that attitude," you turn around, raising an eyebrow at the man — or lady, you don't know. their face is covered and their clothes are baggy.

the stranger walks you to, and you walk backwards. okay, it's kinda getting creepy.

"any — any reason why you're coming to me?" you questioned, trying to mask your obvious worries.

"aren't you the one who's here for the poison, missy?" they stop walking, reaching into their pockets before bringing a small, white tube in view.

oops, you're caught off guard. if this is who you agreed to meet with you only hope they don't run with the poison.

"oh — yes, that's me! how'd you know?"

"have my ways. ain't a dealer if i don't know my clients — even if they're a one timer," they speak, handing you the tube. "name's siren. just an alias, don't question it."

you carefully take the tube, in return you quickly place the envelope in their hand. ready to get out of there, you ramble out your words, "okay, thank you! the money is in there, bye! see you never!"

siren watches your frame scatter away from them, the sounds of your low heels clicking the floor making them chuckle. crazy woman, they think, returning their focus back on the money.

you're back in the car safe and sound. you know what, it's time to go back. you lock your doors, hide the tube in your handbag, and turn up the radio. now that the errand's over, you probably won't go outside for two days.

ah, home. nothing beats being home. except suguru's car is parked so that means he's here. the home is now back to the house. inhaling a deep breath, you mentally prepare yourself to have any interaction with him. you have your doubts but something inside you screams that he's going to talk.

"where have you been?"

well, that was quick. you only managed to take your heels off. talk about an impatient man.

"out for a breather, why?" you return the question, walking into the living room without glancing at him.

"all right," he says, not continuing the conversation.

ladies and gentlemen, never get married. suguru no longer cares to hold conversations. you can tell the ugliest lies to him and he wouldn't care. as long as you're back, it's okay. you're used to it, yet a silent voice in you wished that he would've asked more questions.

you continue on without glancing at him, making your way to the shared bedroom. it's a little after noon, you'll take this time to relax.

──

two: weird individual(s).

it's hot — you feel hot. a burning sensation engulfs your head. this wasn't supposed to happen. you were making dinner, casually sipping on your glass of wine as you go along. suguru, for some reason, finally showed himself for the day. without a word, he seated himself near the counter, pouring himself a glass of wine and keeping his eyes on you.

to say you're not uncomfortable would be a severe understatement. his eyes create holes in your back — it's annoying. say something if you want to, asshole, you complained in your mind but truly, you yourself weren't going to say anything.

and so, you carried on. dinner being cooked and suguru being weird. it got even more weird when he stood up. you're at the sink, cleaning as you go along. suguru's finished with his glass, so it's not out of the ordinary for him to stand behind you, trapping you with both arms as he washes his glass, right? yeah, it's pretty weird.

"uh, do you mind?" you softly spoke, which was also weird. why is everything just weird tonight?

suguru stays in that position, humming to a tune you're not familiar with.

"is it wrong to be near my wife?"

oh, now i'm his wife.

"not at all, suguru. it's just that i'm busy at the moment," you told half the truth. you are busy, but you don't want him near you.

"is that so?" he spoke, removing one hand only to place it on your hip. slowly, he begins to squeeze the flesh, lowering his head into the junction of your neck and shoulder. his voice, though muffled, can be heard with a low, seductive tone, "missed you all day, why not busy yourself with me?"

bullshit, but it's not bad. you can do with some physical destressing.

"not in the kitchen."

"sure."

and that's how you found yourself tangled on top of him on the sofa. sloppily making out with him, hands found freedom in his hair, and his hands found home on your hips. it's a hot mess, and you're kind of liking it. suguru may be a bitch, but he sure knows your body. it's been five years, after all.

"wait—" you broke the kiss, placing your hands on his chest. "let's st—stop," you spoke, stuttering as suguru leans his head to bite your neck.

"why?" he asks, curious at your sudden choice. you never stopped him before.

"i.. don't feel good, sorry suguru," you lied again. suguru isn't and is the problem. you'd love to go deeper with him but the realization that he's touched another woman like this disgusts you. it's no wonder you plan on killing him.

suguru doesn't speak. instead, he moves you off of him. "it's okay," he says, leaning in to give you a kiss on the cheek. it doesn't take long for him to leave you alone again. now you're feeling a pinch of guilt. i'm not wrong, right? he's the one who abandoned me.

you sigh, lifting yourself off the sofa. there's a dinner to indulge in and trust, you will enjoy it. you made it with your blood, sweat, tears, and some wine.

──

three: poison attempt day.

surprisingly, you felt energized today. as if someone charged six-hundred volts of energy to a dead battery. today's the day, hopefully. the man who cosplays himself as a husband is absent per usual. it's up to you to cook lunch.

you're already preparing; there's no time to waste. every minute needs your utmost attention — the kind of attention a predator gives its prey before hunting them. the one downside to this would be the poison's taste. it's not an overwhelming one, but it's there. anything with a strong scent comes with a strong taste, they say. you haven't put it to the test — no way, you're not suicidal — but the safer side's always better.

ginger, you think, ginger and onions overpower everything. bingo. a minute¹ change to the recipe's ingredients but it's nothing to fret over. trivial matters again. within an hour, lunch was finished with a cherry on top — except the cherry holds the uneven balance between suguru's life and death.

you removed your apron, flicked off the water from your hands after you washed it, and then threw yourself face-first onto the longer sofa. exhaustion massages your body, encouraging you to fall into its depths. its opponent, emotional drain, creeps up. your body's the platform, and they're the contestants. a battle of who will dominate you begins; a useless battle for the woman whose tears dried up long ago.

a heavy sigh escapes, i'm tired, you think. sliding your hands under your head, you use it to cushion the side of your face. it's quiet like always but you're left to your thoughts this time. it may just crown itself for being the first time you gave yourself leeway to part and understand your tangled emotions. it's like a ball of tangled wires: scattered yet neat. roads to untangle it are visible, yet its many wires frighten the person.

what you feel is nothing short of some doll who replaces her face to satisfy the owner. the marionette you once were and refuse to be again. she who shows you, you who show yourself, who is the real you? perhaps, it's all. everything is you, everything has become you. many versions of yourself dance around the stage, all moving towards to same goal: killing the one who drained them.

the clock ticks, each sounded second rips your skin apart. it's torturous, but soon it'll all be over. i think i need a nap, your last voice echoes away in your mind as you succumb to exhaustion. who knew planning a murder against your once beloved could've been this draining.

─

suguru lazily enters, slackening his tie. his eyes focus on the lunch decorating the dining table. soon, his eyes travel to your resting figure. after all, you're in his usual position. she's sleeping, he thinks of the obvious, deciding to keep a low profile as to not wake you.

however, being a man means that you're prone to making mistakes... especially loud ones. from the cup connecting with the floor to the fork clanging as it fell, it's been a rather loud attempt at serving himself some lunch.

he's sure that you're awake. well, not entirely awake, but conscious enough to hear everything around you. the blame is his to own, again.

"it's untouched..." suguru whispers, confused at the perfectly untouched food that lies before his eyes. maybe you got a change of eating routine.

lies, of course. you'd be nothing but a joker if you were to consume the same food you poisoned. suguru doesn't know this, however. he's picked his path and the path hides its true face; wicked and heartless, like a haunted house pretending to be a normal house to lure in its victims.

it's been a few minutes later and you're now fully awake. you haven't moved an inch to expose yourself — just mindlessly gazing into the void of your shared house. you're aware that he's home, aware that he's found himself lunch, and aware that the clock's ticking sound has gotten louder. almost as if it knows its counting down someone's death day.

"is he eating?" you whispered, peeking from the sofa's backrest. "oh, he is."

suguru's at the dining table, scrolling on his phone as he shoves a vegetable in his mouth. his actions fill you with guilt, excitement, and fear. for a reason only god knows, you don't want him eating anymore. may it be due to loving him half of your life, or may it be due to the guilt of killing someone who mattered to others. whatever, who cares. no one — no one will, you chant in your mind, attempting to convince yourself.

"wait, suguru—" you acted out of your own will, cutting your speech short when you regained yourself. what the fuck? you're leaning over the sofa's backrest, reaching an arm out to suguru. eyes wide open, you try to piece together a reasonable follow-up response.

"hm? something wrong?" suguru asks, mouth filled with food. he places his phone face down and tilts his head. he looks innocent, as if he's not a cheating, neglecting bastard of a husband. well, that's the way life goes. the evil masks themselves as the innocent, basking in those who are more innocent than themselves, slowly consuming their energy for their own. selfish, selfish people.

"ah," you begin, awkwardly lowering your hand. "is the food okay? i tried a new recipe."

i don't want to kill him.

"yeah, it's good," he responds, taking a sip of whatever he's drinking.

he's wronged me.

you walk towards the dining table, pulling out a chair to seat yourself in front of him. "i see... how was your morning?" you questioned, swallowing hard. your legs are shaking, you don't know why. your heart races, you can't answer why.

"boring, same old stuff. i met with my client though, she's fun to be around," suguru tells, poking the food with his fork to get a good bite.

i fucking hate him.

you don't speak after that. instead, you bite at the skin of your lower lip. your emotions try to join together, yet they won't. it's like a lava lamp, they'll never truly connect. every time you're away from suguru, your hatred tames. every time he's back, it heightens. it doesn't take much more than his voice to fuel your restless anger. you observe him, watching the way his throat bobs each swallow. something feels off.

the two of you continue in silence, simply observing each other. suguru takes it upon himself to do the dishes, you remain put in the chair. his phone remained with you, face down yet dings with notifications. you've always wondered what it's like to have him text you every day. once it was a memory of the teenage years... now it's a sour dream.

──

four: night, night.

it's the same night, you're in bed with suguru. both of you are under the same covers, yet you're both at the extreme ends of the bed. a large, empty space separates you two. neither are asleep nor do they wish to be awake. a heavy feeling rains over their shared room. the tension's strong enough to break the strongest thread.

suguru's the first to turn, rolling himself over to you. he extends an arm to secure over your waist; this brings you skin-to-skin with his torso and your back. his head lowers to yours, resting his chin on your head. you give no reaction except stiffing your body. what's he up to?

his extended arm caresses you lightly, mimicking patterns on your delicate skin. he takes a deep breath before exhaling.

"my love, i know you're planning to kill me," he softly speaks, waiting for you to respond.

your heart drops. what? he knows? it's probably a bluff. you opt for remaining the way you currently are. if you continue pretending, he'll most likely continue speaking the truth.

"i've been watching you. i don't blame you, dear. i've neglected you for quite some time. i've cheated on you with someone temporary. if i were you, i would've killed me sooner. however, i won't lie and say i'm not hurt. if my wife were to kill me, i'd prefer it to be in an easy, quick way. you've chosen your part and i can't change that, but promise me: on my deathbed, you'll be there. it's not a request to mock you, but a request of seeing you one last time," suguru empties himself out, pouring onto you a bucket of words that hold the truth. the ugly truth you've avoided.

literally fuck off. it means nothing now, you think, judging suguru's words.

"i've been horrible and nothing can change that. i will not beg for forgiveness, nor will i beg for your love. it's already been done. but please, my dear... let me say sorry," his voice quiets to the end and the caressing stops. his hand remains firm, waiting for you to come out of your fake shell. "i know you're not asleep. answer me, please."

caught red-handed.

"i don't care for your fucking apology. it's a bit too late," you spit your venom out, thanking the gods that your back is what's facing him. "matter of fact, i hope you die soon. do as you wish, though. your time is limited."

suguru doesn't answer yet. his arm around you tightens. his breathing's getting uneven — you can hear it. it's shaking, the same way your eyes are shaking to prevent any tears — or as you call it, the pity tears.

he takes in a deep breathe, verbally exhaling a shaky one in return, "then, i'll apologize. i'm sorry."

that's it, huh, you think, almost voicing out your thoughts.

"it means nothing to apologize for actions i could've prevented a long time ago. so, i'm sorry. sorry that i've wronged you to the point you plot my death," he finishes, not having any more to say.

you wriggle out of his grasp, turning to face him. it's dark yet you can see his sadness. isn't that just too bad? the bar of the love you still feel for suguru exists, yet its overpowered by the hatred you've accumulated for him. it stings that he's going like this, but you rather it be by your own arms instead of another's.

"i don't have anything to say," you quietly speak, looking at suguru in the eyes. "if it doesn't work, then i hope you recover in the worst way. if it works and you die, i'll kiss you a merciful death."

the conversation ends. what's left are two adults staring into each other's eyes. there's nothing but empty voids facing each other. voids they once filled, voids they once created. it's too late; too late for anything. suguru's a petty liar if he says he's not afraid. who isn't afraid of death? he doesn't want to die, but what's done cannot be undone. he cannot turn the clock anti-clockwise and fix his actions. you won't be switching lanes, and it's set what the outcome will be.

minute¹ — pronounced my·new·tuh. meaning: extremely small. two synonyms: tiny, little.

#+ rizsu: jujutsu kaisen.#so this was definitely a thought #3.8k wc | tw. attempts of murder #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto angst #geto suguru angst #jjk angst #geto suguru x you #geto x you #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen angst

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th3secr3th1story · 11 months

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how gojo tries to get your attention after a fight

gojo messed up majorly. last night, he came home tired and stressed after a mission with a special grade curse. yes, it was successful (obviously. it's gojo.), but it still drained him.

he was so out of it and wasn't feeling like himself, but you, as a wonderful partner, tried to take care of him. gojo got frustrated, and sure, he felt guilty for it, but he was done.

and he took it all out on you. you would've gladly left him alone if he'd just asked you, but gojo was never one for good communication.

you eventually got the hint and realized it was best for him to be alone, but the words from last night still stung and the hurtful glares unforgotten. you decided you would just ignore him until he apologized. until he realized that you can't put up with this anymore.

so, the problem was now with gojo. he woke up that morning to an empty bed, curious, because you usually beg him to stay in longer.

and then, of course, it hit him. he can't remember what he was so upset about. yes, he was tired, but you were just there to help him after a long day. and he ruined it all.

sliding out of bed, he sidles up to you in the bathroom as you brush your teeth, trying to assess how much damage control was needed.

"last night was crazy, huh?"

"..."

"i absolutely destroyed that curse though, baby. nothing left."

"..."

okay...so maybe this was worse than he expected. but it would be okay because he would figure out a way to fix it all. he's gojo satoru; if he can kill special grade curses he can definitely get your forgiveness!

plan A--commence!

naturally, instead of apologizing like a normal person, gojo sneaks around the house tightening every jar he can find. your leave in conditioner, the pickles, jam...anything with a screw-on lid that he laid his eyes on.

all that was left was to wait for you to reach for one of the jars, realize it was screwed on too tight, and ask him for help.

an hour later, seated in the living room, he watches you enter the kitchen, looking for your favorite quick snack--pickles!!

he gets ready to see your angry but desperate face. should you forgive gojo and enjoy your snack, or save your pride but remain hungry? you'd debate with yourself for a bit, but eventually you'd begrudgingly walk over to him. "just open it," you'd say. he'd unscrew the jar, you'd smile at each other. he'd pull you into his ar-

oh. you opened it by yourself. the sound of a jar popping open snapped him out of his imagination, watching you pull out a few pickles and happily bite into them.

there may have been one small flaw with gojo's masterplan--he forgot that you're stronger than him.

no sweat! it's all good! he was already thinking up something new. it was time for plan B!

galloping over to your air conditioning, he cranks it all the way up (as much as your paychecks would allow, at least). he had seen this in one of those stupid romance movies he'd begged you to watch with him a couple months ago. it was only a matter of time before you ran over to him, shivering, begging for his warmth. he was sure of it.

20 or so minutes later, still nothing from you...odd! he walks around the house, curious to see what you're doing at a temperature like this. he finds you in one of his sweaters, curled up in your bed. his stomach sinks even more. he just wants to climb in with you, pull you into him, and smother you in his kisses.

"go away, satoru," you mumble. he sighs, sulking away back to the living room. at least you're talking to him?

he doesn't know how much time has passed but later when he gets off the couch his head hurts and he just wants to be near you. he'll do anything at this point. this is how he reaches plan C: apologize. what a novel idea!

he walks back into the room, sitting at the foot of the bed.

"hey."

"..." great.

"y/n, i know i messed up. i shouldn't have taken out my frustrations on you and i should've just asked for space. i know you were just trying to help. i'm so sorry, baby. please forgive me, i miss you and i can't stand you ignoring me."

for the first time in what has got to be a thousand hours to gojo, you finally turn your head and look him in the eyes. you swear you can see sparkles in them. oh, the things he does to you.

"i just want you to tell me what you need, 'toru. i'm not a mind reader, i can't just know what you want from me. i need you to know that i would do anything for you and i hate when you put up these walls."

"i know, baby. i'm so sorry."

you sigh, smiling at him a little. of course you forgive him. you always would, no matter what.

"i forgive you. wanna get in here with me?" you ask, lifting up the covers a little. why was it chilly?

"absolutely."

plan C: success!

who knew that apologizing could actually fix things? certainly not gojo!

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totheblood · 11 months

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even more modern!ellie headcanons

a/n: just a little something... again AI AUDIOS AT THE END... replies and reblogs are appreciated

masterlist

ellie is a homebody, and usually will have to be dragged out by you or dina

honestly she’s never ‘dragged’ out by you, she usually likes to tag along if she knows you’re going somewhere where there will be a lot of people

it’s not that she doesn’t trust you, it’s that she doesn’t trust the people around you

you don’t really mind anyway, you like how she loops her finger in the belt of your jeans and pulls you closer to her when she notices someone staring at you

if the person doesn’t stop she’s not above pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear while making direct eye contact with the person

you giggle, throwing your head back slightly and turning to look at her in the dim light, “what’s gotten into you, ellie?”

“that dick keeps looking at you,” another kiss pressed to your jaw, “don’t like it.”

but she’d much rather stay at home with you, both of you tucked under her comforter with the air conditioner turned down to 64° and whatever show you’re watching at the time on the tv

she hates to admit it, but she loves grey’s anatomy (she swore to you she’d never like it with a scoff and “that show is shit, babe. it’s for like, middle-aged moms with no life.”)

but now as you both have your eyes glued to the screen, she can’t help but scoff every time george is on the screen

“what?”

“he’s just such a fucking loser, this guy.”

“he’s not the worst.”

“he’s pretty fucking bad… why would he sleep with meredith and then make it about him when she starts crying! it’s obvious she’s vulnerable… i just don’t like him.”

ellie gets pretty passionate when watching tv. she’s always sharing her opinions with you, looking at you for validation or arguing when you disagree with her

she’ll always add something like: “you’re lucky you’re cute” or “if you weren’t my girlfriend i’d tear your argument apart” and then kiss you on your nose and go back to watching tv

ellie is an awful cook… like so bad

one time she tried to make a recipe for your anniversary, thinking it would be easy but ended up failing miserably

she’s the type to write out the grocery list and cross shit off as she picks things up… even when she doesn’t know what it means

she didn’t know what trader joe’s was, so when she got there she’d be picking shit up and looking at it with a weird look on her face, “mango… joe joe’s? what the fuck is that?” she’d mutter before putting the box back on the shelf

but eventually she’s getting sucked in, picking up a box of mini ice cream cones, cookie butter, and the rest of the groceries needed for the meal she planned on making for you

you come over and the place is a mess, there is flour all over the counter and floors, pots and pans piled up in the stove, and ellie is stood over a bowl, mixing with a giant wooden spoon

“ellie?”

“shit.. fuck,” she curses, jumping a little bit before turning and smiling at you, her eyes looking you up and down, “you fucking scared me. you’re early.”

“no, i’m not.”

ellie’s eyes glance down at her watch, cursing as she bolts towards the stove a “no, no, no,” falling from her lips as she opens and sees the chicken inside burnt to a crisp. she’s throwing on her mitt and pulling the pan out, sighing as she watches all her hard work go to waste.

“you were trying to cook for me?”

ellie forgot you were there for a moment, her jumping a little at the sound of your voice and wiping the sweat from her forehead as she gives you her best smile, even though it’s strained.

“babe, i’m sorry, i- i don’t know where i went wrong,” she sighs, watching as you walk closer to her and put your hands on the counter behind her trapping her in.

“don’t be sorry” you kiss the side of her lips and smile against her skin, tasting her sweat, “it’s sweet… no one’s ever cooked for me before.”

she’s blushing and leaning into you, your warmth providing her some comfort from her previous stress

“you look nice,” she whispers below her breath, but you can still feel the puffs of air coming out of her mouth, “you deserve a good meal.”

“i’m not picky,” you whisper back, giggling as ellie’s heart leaps in her chest. she loves you so much it hurts

her hands rest at your hips when she kisses you gently, saying something about missing you that you miss because of how her lips feel against yours

you order takeout that night and eat it as you help her clean up the mess she made

“have you ever been to trader joe’s? that shit was crazy”

ellie is the type of girlfriend to send you two people from a tv show or an edit and be like “babe, this is so us”

or to think it’s so cute when you have matching icons on instagram, tiktok, or twitter

she just wants to show you off all the time

she draws the line at a joint couple account though

she’s always writing things about you, whether it be in her journal, little poems, or songs about you

she’d post a song she wrote you on tiktok with the caption “wrote this song about my lover” and not expect it to blow up

but then she’s receiving a million comments about how sweet it is and how people wish someone would do something like that for them

she doesn’t like the comment “can your gf fight” so she’s responding to all of them like “no, she can’t, but i can and i will! LEAVE MY GF ALONE!!”

but she’d brag about it to you, shoving her phone in your face and saying “look, your girlfriend is fucking famous.”

when you gasp and grab her face congratulating her in between kisses her face grows red and she’s smiling so wide her cheeks hurt

“don’t forget me when you become famous.”

“how could i forget my muse?”

ellie loves listening to music with you and will make you a playlist that she updates with every song she listens to that reminds her of you

she’s incredibly corny in that way

she always wants to listen to the music you suggest to her, wanting to be closer to you in any way she can

even if she doesn’t like it she’s pretending she loves it and playing it constantly, even when you aren’t around

ai audios:

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot #mine

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nieceeee · 7 months

Text

“SOUNDS OF FRIENDSHIP”

PS: Bestfriend!ony always sneaks and checks on you every night as a part of his nighttime routine. But this one night, Ony hears something he definitely shouldn’t have. Yet, he can’t seem to pull himself away.

WC: 3.1K

A/N: This has been one of my favorite plots to write lol. Im sorry Onybunny but I had to do it to you baby, NSFW, toy mentioned, suggestive, masturbation, little freaky stuff, Sneaking, Ony creeping through the dark lol.

Tag list: @iloveblogging2 @kritetakes @marshallowy @laylasbunbunny

After getting out the shower Ony tosses on a pair of gray sweatpants and slips his feet into an old pair of house shoes. The steam from the shower seeped into his bedroom, thickening the humidity in the air. Tendrils of smoke fluttered off his smooth brown skin, his body lingering with the warm from the water even after he had stepped out.

He rolled his neck stretching it out, the tightness still there from the workout he had earlier. Ony slipped out of his room door to start his nightly routine. He crept through the darkness, checking the seals on the windows and making sure everything was locked down. Although nothing had ever happened at home, he always did it to ensure both of your safety. Over time, it because engrained in his mind to do everyday. The house was quiet, the cool air whipping gently around his, cooling his still open pores. An unexpected shiver ran down his body. He turned the corner to check the air conditioner. “65?!” He whispered to himself. He should be used to the temperature by now considering how long you’ve lived together but it still shocked him every time he looked at it.

Ony shook his head and kept walking towards the living room. He wrapped around the couch in the living room and walked towards the front door. Checking to make sure both locks were secured, Ony made his way down the hallway and took a right towards your door. The closer he got to your room, the softer his footsteps became. You didn't know but he always took time to check on you every night. Ony knew about your past and the nightmares that plagued you some nights. So he always swept by your door to make sure you were resting. He pressed his body flat against the wall and side stepped until he was right next to your door. The last thing he wanted to do was wake you up out of your sleep. Last time he made that mistake, he was explaining to his brothers where his black eye came from.

Ony slowed his pace and calmed his breathing. His footsteps were as light as feathers as he reached the crack in the wall where your door was. He listened in the darkness for any signs of crying or panic in your voice. There was only one noise coming from inside, a low thrumming sound. Ony’s brows furrowed together and he hesitantly inched closer. He’d done this many times before and he’s never heard this before. He had memorized every sound in your room from the way the air blew to the sound your fan made as it spun. Am I hearing things he thought to himself. He tilted his head closer and remained quiet, holding his position in the shadows. The sound was consistent, there was no break in between it. Just a gentle low paced humming. Ony blinked a few times and began to move back slowly. As he shifted his both to begin to slip out, a noise caused him to pause. The humming as still there but he heard it clear as day. A small whimper. Ony’s heart began to race in his chest.

Because from the other side of the door, a soft moan crept from your lips. Ony held his position unable to move, unable to breath. He didn't hear that. He’s tired. His mind is playing tricks on him. But it happened again, another sweet low moan echoes in your room, creeping underneath the door, gliding across the carpet, and snaking up to his ears. Ony was shell shocked. Because as he stood in the hall, body pressed against the cream paint in the apartment, he heard the sounds of you, his best friend. And on the other side of the door, unaware of his presence, your back pressed into your bed and legs spread on each side, you drug your vibrator across your already swollen bud of nerves between your legs. Your chest rising and falling rapidly, you release another small cry into the darkness.

You had been wound up all day and were desperate to get home for release. The workout you and Ony had to endure did nothing to curve the sensation you were craving. And unlucky for you, seeing your best friend shirtless, body sweaty and muscles bulging didn't help you at all. You weren’t attracted to Ony in that way you told yourself. You and him had been friends for years. Your relationship was platonic, borderline suggestive to anyone who didn't know you both but you’ve always been just friends. But you weren’t blind. You couldn’t help but admit that your best friend had always been cute. But as you both grew up, Ony lost the boyish charm and developed into a full grown man. So eyeing your 6’0, dark skin bestie with the body of a god did absolutely nothing but cause you more problems.

Granted you could’ve called up one of your options, it wasn't unlike you to have them. But you and Ony had a rule, no sex in the apartment that you shared. Your home was your safe space, and with your past, both of you agreed to the rule with no hesitation and you didn't feel like driving anywhere at what you endured today. So instead you opted in to staying at home and pleasing yourself. Which lead you to here, with your handheld pressing deeper into your walls as you worked yourself closer and closer to your climax. Except today absolutely hated you because every time you inched closer, you lost the spot and had to start over.

You had been going at it way longer than you expected and were teetering on the edge. You needed to do something. Something to relax yourself. So you shifted your hips, pressed further back into the bed and closed your eyes. Increasing the speed on the vibrator, you took deep breaths and let your mind wander. Images of peace fluttered through your mind as you willed your body to relax. You stopped holding your moans, allowing all your muscles to relax as you imagines intimacy, trying to coax your body to it's release. Your mind thought of your ex, how well he would fuck you. The way he would pound into you with no remorse. Your side piece and the way his tongue worked you over and over. Then your mind shifted to hands. Thick hands rubbing up your sides, fingers gently gripping your hips. It envisioned full two toned lips pressing gentle kisses down your neck and towards your breasts. Perfectly sculpted arms gripping your legs and pushing them back towards you. Your mind imagined it, though you’ve never seen it, your mind still conjured up the image of his girth pressing into you, the delicious stretch it would provide as he hit your spot. Your mind plagued with images of him, of the familiar scent of cedar wood and absinthe, his velvety voice coating your ear drums as he whispers sweet nothings to you, begging you to call out to him. So you did. You knew it was wrong. Your mind was playing dirty tricks on you as it made you force it out. Made you call out to the one person you knew you couldn’t have.

“Ony”

His heart pounded in his eardrums. Ony couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Because as he stood outside your door, the sound of his name fell from your lips. His eyes widened searching the darkness. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. He tried to rationalize with himself. But again your voice called out to him as your moans followed, increasing in speed and volume. You repeated it over and over and over again until your body shook. Muscles clenching around the toy, he heard you cry out as you worked the orgasm from your body. You released…while calling his name.

It was a joke. It had to be a joke. There was no way that you would do that. Ony assured himself. He nodded and waited. You must’ve heard him outside the door and decided to play tricks with him, pretending to call his name and accuse him of snooping outside your door. So he waited. He held his breath and waited for you to come out of the door and laugh at him for falling for your game.

But you never came out.

Instead there was a slur of “fucks” that crept underneath the door instead. There was shuffling, your feet hitting the floor. The thrumming sound stopped and the only other thing he heard was the closing of your bathroom door and the creaking of the knobs of your shower as your rushed to clean yourself up.

If his heart beat any harder it would jump out of his chest and run away from him, leaving nothing but a wide eyed, mouth agaped corpse behind. Because realization dawned on his features at the fact that this wasn't a joke. This wasn't another game you decided to play. You called out to him as you came. In one of the most intense moments, your mind imagined him. Your body wanted…him.

Ony waited a few more moments, willing himself to come back from the comatose state he was in. He crept back to his room, pace quicker than before. He made sure he was far away enough before he rushed towards his hallway and closed the door to his room, locking himself inside. His mind began to race.

You said his name. Why would you say his name? Is this the first time you said it? HOW MANY TIMES HAS THIS HAPPENED?

Ony was absolutely spiraling and every moment you have ever shared together played through his head. Every time you held hands or hugged each other. How smooth your smaller hands felt in his as your nimble fingers intertwined with his larger ones. Nights were you slept in his bed and the warmth of your body against his, the smell of lilacs and honey lingering on his pillow from your shampoo. You stealing all his clothes and the way the cotton fabric brushed right against the underside of your ass, hanging between your thighs when you sat down. The first kiss you shared when you were 12 because you wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing. The way your lips felt against his. The taste of your cherry bomb lipgloss coming back to his senses.

His thoughts were shifting into a very unfamiliar territory. Ony didn't think about you like that. You were his best friend. You’ve been that way since you both were 6 years old. You were always the one by his side, picking at him and making him laugh. Sure one or two thoughts about building something more had come to his mind but neither of you cared to push it further so you remained friends. But this was new territory. This was unspoken territory. Ony paced his room, thumb pressed to his lips as his teeth bit into his nail. He couldn’t do that to you. He couldn’t think about you like that. It was wrong.

So why the fuck was he hard right now…

Ony couldn’t lie about what he was feeling in this moment. He wouldn't admit it out loud because that was wrong. It was wrong to think about how soft you would feel underneath him. It was wrong to imagine what you face looked like when you came, how you thick hair fell across your pillow and your back arched into him. It was wrong of him to imagine the way you would squirm underneath him and his dick pushed into your cervix and his lips trailed from your toes down to the gold anklet he bought you for your birthday. It was definitely wrong for him to imagine the way you would cream against him as his hand wrapped gently around your neck and the other held your hips still so you couldn’t run from him. It was wrong of him to imagine the nail sets he always pays for scraping down his spine as he fucked tears from your eyes. The way your beautiful brown eyes would widen as he made you look at him while you cum because he knew it would break you. It was so fucking wrong.

But his dick couldn’t tell the difference.

Ony shook his head trying to clear his mind of those thoughts but it did nothing. Heat rose through his body as he quickly made his way to the bathroom. He turned the shower on and undresses before stepping inside. The icy temperature stung against his warm skin as he tried to drown the thoughts away. But as he stood there underneath the shower head, the only thing he could imagine was the fact that you had just gotten into the shower yourself. And his mind crafted images of you naked, body glistening in the water. Ony never cared for shower sex but he imagined it with you. He wondered what you thought about him. What was it about him that drove you over the edge. What turned you on? Did you taste as good as you always smelled? He imagined his tongue running up and down your core as he held you up by your thighs, your back presses against the shower wall.

A low groan released from his throat, the cold water doing nothing for him as the sounds of your moans replayed like the melodic notes of symphony, caressing his ears. Ony closed his eyes, head tilted back against the shower. “Fuck.” He let out, his body betraying him. His thick hands sliding down his body to offer himself some much needed release.

How the fuck was he supposed to face you in the morning…

#ony x black reader #smut #aot x y/n #aot x reader #fem!reader #aot x black reader #black writers #onyankopon smut #aot onyankopon #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankapon #aot fic #melovehimsomuch

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coeurify · 11 months

Text

i cant find this req for some reason but here is a ss i took of it.. enjoy ! 18+

Abby was the best roommate. Really. She was kind, always cleaned up after herself, was respectful, and just so quiet.

Abby would likely say the same thing about you, a slight grin on her face as she spoke to one of her friends about how lucky she had gotten with you, and how her friend agreeing to move in with her had been just an oh so perfect decision. How sweet and lovely you were to live with. Her pink lips wet as her tongue licked over them, quieter confessions about how attractive she found you usually followed. Not that she would ever admit that to you, however.

Nor would you divulge the information of just how many times you had shoved your face into a friend’s pillow as you rattled on about how good Abby looked when she came home from the gym, how badly you wanted to be the one she was always leaving the apartment to go see.

Neither of you minded the soft touches when you passed each other, the quiet breaths on your shared couch that always came when one of you pressed a little too close during movie night. In fact, Abby would even go out on a thin tree limb to say you both enjoyed toeing the line between platonic roommate activity and something more.

Most everything about this living situation was just perfect. Except for a tiny problem.

The painted white walls always held a certain hum to them. Whether it be music you tried your best to keep low.. or Abby watching a movie. It always sunk between the foundation between your rooms, echoing the covered walls in a way that had become clear very soon into moving in with your friend. The walls were so incredibly thin, but you thought you had adapted.

Abby always disappeared into her room early most nights, unless you asked otherwise. By midnight on most days, the walls fell utterly silent, aside from a few creaks of Abby’s bed. The night had become your saving grace, the only time you didn’t have to worry about your roommate hearing anything.

Usually.. she didn’t. Tonight, however, the story was completely different.

It didn’t really matter how you had ended up here. Maybe Abby came home with a little extra confidence after the gym today, smiling and leaning over you at the table, questioning what book you had your nose dug into, large arm on full display for you. Maybe Abby sat a little too close during the movie you watched, and stared at you a little too hard during certain scenes.

By this point, you couldn’t even remember what had gotten you to this current place. Your door cracked open, letting in the breeze that came from the air conditioner in the living room, the only solace to your sticky hot skin. Your thighs draped lazily around your favorite pillow, clenching around the soft pink cloth as you ground down into it. The pretty black lace of your panties acting as an added friction for your heated core as you moved your hips against the material. Your mouth gaped open, panting as you let out the softest moans you could muster, sweat shining in the furrowed space between your brows.

On any other day, you would have gone undetected. But tonight, of all nights, Abby found herself in a long battle with sleep.

She had tried every method known to mankind to rest, the early morning ahead a perfect candidate for why she should be squeezing her eyes closed the moment the clock on her bedside flashed the numbers “2:35 am” on the digital screen.

But now? Now Abby was thankful for three things, despite this sleepless frustration.

One, she was happy she wasn’t tired suddenly. Two, she was so fucking delighted the walls of this apartment were thin. And three? Abby was just purely ecstatic that you didn’t know at all how to keep quiet.

Abby tried to be a kind roommate at first. She pressed further away from the wall when she heard the first few soft grunts on the other side of the wall. Hell, Abby even put on headphones and began scrolling through her playlists to find a good set of songs so she didn’t invade your privacy like that.

But the moment she found her finger hovering over the blue-lit screen to begin a song, she heard it.

The softest, whiny calling of her name she had ever heard. It rang straight through the white paint, right over the posters plastered there, and settled sweetly in her ear.

You were moaning her name.

Though she couldn’t see it, her imagination could only assume what you may be doing. What her sweet roommate was doing to herself thinking of her.

If she could see it, your quivering lip, open and panting Abby’s name, again, Abby may have died on the spot. If the blonde could bear witness to the wet spot that dripped through the fabric of your panties and onto the plush pillow... Well, she would have taken you right there.

All Abby had, however, was her imagination, just as you did. Though neither knew the fantasies that plagued both of your minds muddled together just a bit too much.

“Abby,” you whine into the quiet air, a mouth full of saliva— causing another choked sound as you swallow it down, hips pressing further into your pillow. You imagined it was her hands on your hips, leading all of your rushed and messy movements against the fabric.

You squeezed your eyes shut and did your best to paint the picture of the pillow being the blonde’s thigh, that your trembling hands were actually gripping the flesh of Abby’s shoulders as she urged you to keep going. You could almost pick out her tone of voice perfectly, a tape om loop in your mind of her urging you to keep going, ‘c’mon sweetheart... there you go, angel,’ she would whisper against you, lips pressing to your skin just so softly. If you held your breath long enough, you could almost hear it.

Abby, on the other side of the wall, did her very best not to stand straight up out of bed and let her feet find your door. This proved itself a difficult request for both her mind and body when your sounds sped up, growing louder and louder against her very honed in eardrums.

The blonde rubbed her eyes, hands aching to grab something very different. Maybe the fat of your thigh as she pressed them open, leaving you all out in the open for her to admire. Maybe the palm of her hand slapped over your mouth as she pulled you closer to her, humming near your cheek that you needed to, ‘Be quiet for me, doll. You know how thin these walls are, don’t want our neighbors to hear, right?’ She even imagined them pressed impossibly far between your legs, fingers so deep into your aching cunt that one curl would have you gushing around her digits.

Though that night, neither of your nighttime fantasies came to fruition. You had climbed off your poor pillow one mindblowing orgasm later, thighs shaking as you made quick work of cleaning your mess.

Abby stayed silent as possible until you fell asleep, and dug her own hands down into her pants— someone, and some noises specifically in mind.

(random cut off sorry uhh p2?)

#rins reqs ❀.#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson smut #roommate!abby anderson

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presleyanswrites · 14 days

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Join The Dream

alive!luke patterson x girlbestfriend!reader

a/n: not requested, back after 4 months!

desc luke didnt know you could sing after years of being your best friend

wc - 1.8k

warnings slight cursing, fluff, grammar, not proof read

the door krept open as you got home from school, tossing your grey messy laced converse off of your ankles and sludging your backpack off one of your shoulders and onto the floor.

it was 4:09 pm, you had nothing to do besides an english paper. but that could be done later.

you walk across the kitchen to sit on top of the counter, your nike women's dry-fit socks dangling as you thought about something, anything to do.

reggie and alex were out making flyers for their upcoming band gig on friday, while your best friend luke was probably somewhere in your guest house messing with your dads old music equipment and speakers you had gotten out of some dusty boxes for him a few weeks ago.

what was there to do?

you make a raspberry with your lips.

laundry...done. homework..ish, done. rooms clean...dad didn't get home until 10...

you stare at your mom's piano in the crevice of a large indent in a wall as you hear the air conditioner buzz softly.

the house was dead silent. no one was home.

for some reason, your hands begin to shake and your throat closes up staring at the white keys and grand black figure just sitting feet away, almost feeling like an old friend waiting for you to come back to it again.

after years.

this was the longest you had ever beared to look at it before.

the blank truth was you had completely disregarded the thought of ever playing any musical instrument ever again after your mom had died of cancer four years ago.

especially the piano. especially singing.

it was all the things you and your mom had cherished with each other. everytime you tried to even look at it. all that could replay in the back of your mind was your five-year-old self playing and singing along to "i love you baby", with your mother and you giggling with her.

what was so wrong about it? that you couldn't have that same feeling anymore? you didn't know.

it just hurt. all of it did.

over the years you had become slightly jealous of luke, reggie, and alex for being able to enjoy music like it was a second nature. maybe thats because it used to be yours, too, and your love for music had been taken away. and you felt like you could never get it back.

luke never knew about your passion for music. neither did alex, or reggie. sure, luke had watched you play with your mom as a kid but he never knew that you had the same thriving passion of music that made you feel alive like he did also.

everytime he tried to get you to sing along to one of the songs he had wrote with reggie you just shrugged it off, letting them sing.

because when your mom died, music died too.

in fact, luke had never heard you sing before. not even in the car, the shower, nothing.

but would this be what your mother had wanted? never even singing on the radio just because of memories?

if you were honest, you hadn't been the same person when you gave up music. If you were even more honest, you felt a hole without it.

you decided to get off the counter and slowly creep over to just....look.

not play, of course, no.

just...looking.

just...sitting down at your mom's favorite stool..

just..looking at the keys..

just..feeling them..

breathing...

you flinch when you accidentally hit a note with your finger.

your heart immediately starts pumping and you feel your stomach sink.

technically, you did just...play.

so, technically, accidentally, you could just play another...

on purpose, this time, you press a note, taking in the sound of a piano again like it was something completely new.

again, maybe? just once.

you start to play a few chords, trying to dig back in your brain four years.

you remember of a song called "forever", written by you. when you were 14. a month before your mom passed.

after playing the chords a few times, it comes flooding back to you like a sudden tidal wave.

you start playing them in order, now, and start singing your lyrics.

tears fall down your cheeks and onto the keys as you play the whole song through, singing the chorus, the verse..

you lean back slightly, holding your hands to your chest with a sniffle.

you wipe your eyes, but then jump at the sudden touch of a hand on your shoulder.

you whip your head around, quickly backing away from the stool.

"what the hell!" you gasp, but then realize who it was.

it was luke standing in front of you, now. his expression completely shocked.

it was silent, the only sounds was you trying to catch your breath.

his mouth was practically on the floor.

"y/n l/n."

you swallow, "yeah."

"what the fu-"

you cut him off, and play dumb, "what? i was just-"

you turn your head slightly to look at the piano behind you and then back to him.

"i was just like, messing around, i dunno, it was like- something i came up with..like..uhm..."

"i-i have so many questions." he scoffs, "first, okay? why in the honey bunches of fuck did you never tell me you could...you could..sing like that?"

you take a breath to answer, but he keeps going.

"two." he puts his hands to the back of his head, "since when could you play the piano? what song was that? was it yours? your moms? is this why you've never sang before? why-"

"luke, it-its complicated. i-" you take a breath out and shake your head, "i wrote it when i was 14. secretly. kind of before my mom died."

"why didn't you tell me you could write music?" he almost sounds offended.

"i dont know-- at the time you hadn't even started your band with reggie and alex yet, and that was like..your thing, and i just couldn't handle doing music again!" tears filled the bottom of your eyes as you tried to explain.

he steps towards you, wrapping his strong arms around you, caressing the back of your head as he holds it so his chest, stroking it with his thumb gently.

"shhh, sh. you don't have to explain anymore." his voice is gentle and warm. "i get it. but, music isn't something i own, okay? i wish you would have told me earlier, and i dont know how i didnt notice this before."

a sob accidentally escapes into his chest, and luke feels his heart slowly sink into the floor. he was a tough guy, but he would always let his guard down for you.

he rubs your back in comforting circles, "its okay, yeah? this is a good thing. its a great thing."

he tucks your hair behind your ear, looking down at you as you look up at him with swollen eyes and a slightly runny nose, luke speaking to you in a low and comforting voice. "you are so beyond talented. You know what im thinking?"

you shake your head softly, with a small sniffle.

"you need to be our singer for the band." he looks at you and titls his head like he already knows what you're going to say. "n' before you say no, think about it. you could do it in honor of your mom? y/n, look at you. you have crazy chemistry with a song you haven't even tried playing in years. you could play your keyboard? its waiting for you in the guest house. It would be practically wasting this amazing gift you have. and i cant let you do that. you know it, too."

"luke-" you almost whimper from the thought of playing music...all of the time. not just when you had sudden courage, like..all the time.

"please." he begs, "you dont have to decide or anything right now...just..think about it?" he looks down at you with those same eyes. "for me?" he bites his lower lip with a small smile.

"fine." you barely say. he almost jumps from excitement and hisses in victory before putting his hands on your shoulders and looks at you in the eyes. "you wont regret it."

"luke, what if-" you stop. "what if i fail? like, im not as good as i used to be? i havent even tried writing songs again-"

"from what i heard today? the like, one minute of you just...singing, and playing, was-- like, crazy good and thats more than what regs and alex and i could ever even dream of." he smiles, his dimples peaking out like a deer in headlights, "it would be totally awesome if you could join our band. Like an honor."

as you look at him speak you bite your lips nervously, and let out a shaky "okay."

he towers over you, taking a step closer and looking in both of your eyes, you could feel his warm breath dripping down your neck.

there was a silence as you look into both of his eyes back, smiling back slightly

"there's that smile."

he leans in slightly, you breathing out, and then looking down as your tone becomes quieter.

"we shouldn't do this." you whisper.

he makes you look at him by putting his finger under your chin.

"we definitely shouldn't do this." he breathes, trying not to smile.

"definitely." you say, him matching your expression.

"definitely." his breath catches in the air.

your lips meet his as he gently backs you into a wall, picking your legs up and holding them with his palms up like a feather.

you feel his warm lips lock against yours over and over.

"y/n," he takes a breath out, finally pulling away making a small click sound from your lips seperating.

"yeah?" you gasp for air.

"i love you." he chokes on his words, "i know its soon. i know. you dont have to say it back." he swallows. "i just thought you should know. n' like - its totally cool if-"

"i love you too, luke."

his eyes meet yours again, this time his eyebrows slightly furrowed, "for real?" a smile quickly creeps up on his face.

you gently nod your head as he kisses your lips again once more.

"i-i dont know its like- when i saw you playing, and- it was just-" he pauses, laughing and shaking his head.

"you're so talented. so real. like, down to it, real."

he looks at you with his soft eyes, kissing your forehead.

"your hole's filled now, y/n."

your eyes widen in surpise, "how did you--"

he rolls his eyes and tuts, "cm'on, seriously? i know you better than you know you."

a little smile appears on your face. it really was him all along. he knew after you played again you got the spark in your eyes back that you had when you met him and you were now the same girl he fell in love with all over again since he was ten.

he runs his thumb over your jaw. "that spark, right here?" he puts his hand off your chin and presses a fist gently to your rib. "right there."

"you're back."

you giggle softly, "im back."

divider creds to @benkeibear my nav ★

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