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quokkacore · 4 years

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LIBERALITY: starshine [oh sehun] (m)

part II of all your gods are fake

summary: sehun gives you what he can, but it’s never easy. you have to work for it as well, but effort pays off, and he rewards you so kindly.

pairing: freedomfighter!sehun x reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff, light horror towards the end?

warnings: language, descriptions of war, descriptions of cults, mentions of violence, shibari, thigh riding, handjobs, reader has nipple piercings, sensory deprivation (blindfolds and ties), seizures, knives

song rec: rosalia & ozuna - yo x ti, tu x mi ♡ taemin - never forever

word count: 4.3k

a/n: this was originally posted to my old writing blog on may 9th, 2020. if you would like to be on the taglist, pls send me an ask or a message! <3

masterlist

He was getting agitated. You could tell this much.

It was already bad enough that the meeting so far had lasted for over an hour and a half, but now the tension of the situation was finally settling in, as everyone realized that it was finally here.

The last stronghold. Or so they believed. Or so he believed.

The meeting was only for the highest ranking officials of the resistance, people who The Brotherhood knew they could trust—the plan was far too important to risk it falling into the hands of The Sect of Seven at the hands of double agents.

The plan that, if executed correctly, could turn the tides and cause the downfall of the Sect.

You watched, leaning against the wall as Junmyeon, leader of The Brotherhood and face of the resistance towered over the war table, talking about possible strategies to take the last major neutral city and also take control of the country.

The Sect of Seven had existed for years before the war began—its existence spanned across centuries, millenia, even; dating back to the year The Prophecy of Brothers Alike was first proclaimed in the late twelfth century, and remained strong even almost a whole century after The Great Collapse of 2050, when global society had collapsed due to war, famine and climate disasters.

Then the war broke out, some ten years ago, when the first two brothers of the Fated Fourteen first made themselves known, springing the Sect’s violent plans into action.

Since then, the resistance had been built up by The Brotherhood’s efforts, both capturing strategic cities and territories across North America. The Sect was based in the desert, with the Sanctuary based in what was once Los Angeles, their control spanning across what was western Mexico, the american south, and half of the northwest.

The resistance was based higher north, in the Citadel, which used to be Chicago, territories consisting of parts of southern Canada, the rockies, the northern midwest and what remained of the Peninsula of Yucatan. Places like Greenland, the southern east coast and northern canadian territories had either been destroyed during the collapse or had since been reclaimed by extreme climate and nature.

The only major territory that remained uncaptured by either sides, the place where many had fled to avoid getting caught in the crossfire, was the northern west coast, and that was controlled by Washington DC.

The very spot the resistance was now planning to take.

Your eyes floated up towards Sehun, who was standing right next to Junmyeon, who was now listening to Chanyeol and Baekhyun discuss the logistics of a peaceful invasion.

“Overall, I think we still need time to form a solid strategy,” Baekhyun said, “Jongdae needs to get in contact with The Agate Sisters for some more weapons—”

“Which is not very easy, might I add—” Jongdae interjected.

“And even before that…” Junmyeon’s voice was loud, taking command of the situation, “Sehun.”

All eyes in the room fell to the youngest member of The Brotherhood.

Oh Sehun. The Oracle.

Sehun had become known to the world two years after Suho and Junmyeon were proclaimed the first two brothers of the prophecy, the same time as his twin brother. Being so young, his ability of both interpreting and creating prophecies was a sight to behold, both terrifying and morbidly fascinating.

You’d known him since he and his brother were children, before the three of you realized what the future held in store—pain and suffering for Sehun and you, and nothing but pleasure and debauchery for Sehün.

“Do you think you could consult with the spirits for a minor prophecy? Or any other interpretations of the prophecy?”

Sehun shifted in his stance, leaning back and forth. “I need time.” His voice was firm and gravelly as he crossed his arms, immersed in thought. “My most recent auguries have revealed to me that DC is the last stronghold that the prophecy is talking about. But I can’t be a hundred percent sure. Prophecies love to play mind games. We all know that.”

“Is there anything we have to be wary of when it comes to the prophecy? Double entendres, stuff like that?” Yixing asked, even though everyone in the room had heard the god-forsaken prophecy more than enough times throughout the past few years.

Sehun sighed, but closed his eyes and nodded anyway. A dramatic tension settled over the room, and Sehun began to speak.

“Cometh a day when seven sets of twins, be opposite ends of both virtue and sin—why am I going over this again, we all know this,” He huffed.

“Please just continue,” Baekhyun mumbled.

“Ugh, fine. Bearing eyes of blue and eyes of brown, cometh to tear the last stronghold down—” Sehun rolled his eyes, frustration evident in his expression. “The term stronghold has always been somewhat questionable. The prophecy was first declared in 1176, right? Early Modern English wouldn’t become a thing for another three hundred years, so most of this stems from Middle English. Some interpret stronghold as fort, or base, or holy land…”

Jongdae raised his hand before speaking, eyes flashing in alarm as he interrupted Sehun’s tangent. “Wait, wait, if others have translated it as holy land, then—”

“The Sanctuary.”

Junmyeon’s voice was quiet, but still commanded a heavy presence across the room, as a profound silence spread across the space.

“That means that the final battle could be in Los Angeles, on their turf. That would put us at a major disadvantage. We’re already at a major disadvantage.” The leader’s eyebrows were furrowed, using both hands to lean on the table as he made the connection.

The dread that followed was thick and suffocating, and you took the opportunity to speak up, wishing to rid the room of the anxiety gathering.

“But think about the implications of fighting the final battle in The Sanctuary. It would have to mean that we’ve managed to push them back sufficiently to the point where we feel confident invading their home base. Which we wouldn’t do unless we knew that we had a high possibility of winning.”

All eyes fell to you, and you crossed your arms, before meeting Sehun’s gaze. The look in his eyes was something akin to gratitude, being able to lift the sudden darkness. You lifted your hand to gesture back at Sehun. “Continue.”

He nodded, gaze stern. “Perhaps lovers lost to a most wicked brother, bringeth vengeance and hellfire upon one another… Loss could mean one of two things. Betrayal or death. But the rest of those two lines imply that the side that does the taking will suffer because of what they’ve done. That means that for now, none of us lay hands on any of the Sanctuary Queens, and those of us who have them, keep our partners close… Beware ye who heed this, for I warn thee now: suffer shall those who carelessly bow.”

“It has to be them,” A girl, Sasha, declared, “They’ve been lying to their followers for years—”

“That could mean anything. You know that.” Sehun’s voice was rough, eyes trained on the map that had been carved into the table.

A silence hung over the room, tension palpable as everyone remembered what the stakes were. These were lives and people’s free wills on the line, indescribable anguish promised by a prophecy written centuries ago to people who didn’t truly know their leaders. The end was near, but the outcome was nowhere near foreseeable.

“I’ll… I’ll try and do some more smoke readings.” It struck you how tired he sounded, watching as he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger, “Maybe I’ll ask the spirit of the Oracle for a specific prophecy on DC. For now, we just have to be cautious. Watch for any suspicious activity here in the citadel and listen to intelligence reports. Jongin, you’ve got your moles at the Sanctuary, right?”

Jongin nodded, gaze dark. “Yeah. I’m meeting with Ren in two weeks. She’s the best of the best. I’ll see what she has for us.”

Junmyeon straightened his posture, everyone quieting when he opened his mouth to speak.

“I think that’s enough worrying about that for today,” He declared, sounding grim, “Before we go, you all know that not a single word is to leave this room. This is highly classified information. Meeting adjourned.”

You watched everyone file out of the room, hoping to speak to Sehun, yet somehow didn’t catch when he left. You got the feeling that that was what he intended.

So you left too, resolving to see him that night.

—

Sehun’s room was easy to find, seeing as how it was right across the hall from yours, in the large apartment building the heads of the resistance had settled into. You knocked on his door, sighing when you didn’t hear any response. You tried one more time, then another time, finally a third time, before letting your head fall frustratedly against the wood of the door.

“Hun, I know you’re in there… please let me in.”

You heard muffled sounds of shuffling from behind the door, pulling your head away to lean it against the doorframe. Waiting, you strained your ears for a noise, hearing the occasional sound.

Eventually, you heard the telltale sound of heavy footsteps being dragged across the floor. You pursed your lips, waiting for the door to open, wondering what you would see when it did.

The door swung open slowly, and you were met with a tall figure, hunched over as he peered down at you. The exhaustion in his gaze was palpable, and you felt your heart clench in sympathy.

Sehun was 25 now. He was made known to the public some nine years ago, and on top of it all, he was the Oracle. Interpretations of any and all prophecies were up to him, a sixteen year old boy who had just discovered he was destined to spend the rest of his life fighting against his own brother, something that tore his family apart.

He was a child.

And now, here he stood, looking too worn, too hopeless for someone so young. His eyes had seen horrors he was much too young to see. Life had eaten away at the glow he’d had when you were both younger. The dark circles underneath his eyes were so pronounced, you’d think he hadn’t slept since he was a baby. His short, dark hair was greasy. You wondered if he’d been taking care of himself properly.

“Do you need anything?” His voice was raspy, quiet. You looked at him, brown eyes met yours. Your heart clenched. Here he was, mentally exhausted, and the first thing he said to you wasn’t a hello, but rather, asking quietly if you needed anything.

“Can I come inside?” You asked sheepishly, and he blinked for a second, before nodding, opening the door more for you to pass. “Go ahead.”

You stepped past him, into the hallway of his small apartment. The smell of incense invaded your nose, and you frowned. He closed the door, and crossed his arms. “What’s going on, Y/N?”

“Are you okay? You looked so tired today, you look tired now.”

“I’m fine—"

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

You refused to let him keep it all to himself. “Sehun…”

He leaned against the wall, head bowed, and you mirrored his stance, standing against the wall as well, but you didn’t look away. “Y/N, I can’t deal with that right now. People need me.”

“Sehun, you can’t force yourself like this, you’ve told me that yourself—"

“I have to make this work. I can’t fail like last time, not if DC is what we think it is.”

You sighed, taking a step forward, resting a hand on his arm. He glanced at it briefly, then raised his head to look at you. You said nothing, but guided him to sit down on the couch, and you sat next to him.

“Sehun,” You said, voice quiet, “DC is nothing but puppets right now pretending they’re actually doing anything. We have our puppets, the sect have theirs. You can’t be sure that a place like that is what determines whether we’re doomed or not. You said it yourself, there are so many possibilities that DC isn’t the place we’re thinking about.”

He took a few deep breaths, nodding to your words before rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger. He looked strained, and you moved to sit closer to him.

“Everything is so fucked up,” Sehun whispered, and you nodded in agreement. “I feel like everything is out of control. Like I can’t do anything about it. Meanwhile, Sehün—"

“Sehün has people who think he’s a god obeying his every whim, just like the rest of those—those idiots.“ Your voice was quiet, but firm, refusing to allow him to compare himself to his brother, "The only reason they look so polished and seem to have everything under control is they only leave the Sanctuary when they absolutely need to, to save face. They feel like they’re above everyone else.”

You took Sehun’s hand, carefully removing his worn, black glove before cradling it in your smaller hand, as if it were incredibly fragile. His eyes met yours, and you gave him a sad smile.

“The Brotherhood, on the other hand… You only use that title for formality’s sake. Yes, you’re all the leaders, but you see yourselves as equal to the rest of us. All of you are out there with us, on the front lines. You’re tired because you give everything you have to serve this cause, my love. You feel that everything is out of control because… well, it is. Lady Fate is a tricky one, we all know that. But you feel it even more because you’re dealing with it head on, not from some sparkly throne on a golden pedestal.”

Sehun’s eyes glittered with several emotions you couldn’t pinpoint, but you could see fondness in them. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Starshine,” He mumbled into your hair, before resting his chin on the crown of your head, “Where would I be without you.”

You hummed, before allowing your eyes to flutter shut, and the two of you sat in silence for what seemed like hours. You reflected back to when you and Sehun both realized your feelings for one another, after a devastating battle in Salt Lake City where Sehun had given his brother the now infamous scar running down the left side of his face, some six years ago. He’d come so close to dying that day, and you’d realized just how important he was to you.

You’d been joined by the hip since you were children, and when the revelation came that he and Sehün were the brothers of liberality and greed respectively, you didn’t hesitate in taking his side, vowing to follow him until the bitter end.

It all made sense to you when you came to Sehun’s sickbed, seeing him resting and bloodied, that you’d actually been in love with the boy for a long time, perhaps ever since you’d first met him. You wouldn’t ever be able to live without him, and apparently, he felt the same way.

In this moral crisis, you were his anchor, his tether to the corporeal plane when his world was on an ethereal one.

Upon all the doubts that everyone had, as to whether the Fated Fourteen were truly gods or if they were simply men with delusions of grandeur chosen by Lady Fate for her cruel entertainment, he felt that you were what reminded him that he was human, that past gods were never truly capable of love or real emotion.

To be capable of loving you was a humbling experience, one that he treasured dearly, especially in moments like this.

“Do you remember what we did the last time you felt like you had no control?” Your voice was a whisper, full of promise and anticipation, as the hand that wasn’t holding his own came to ghost over his thigh. Sehun’s breath hitched, recalling the experience. Roughness against soft, supple skin, restraint and control, you giving yourself entirely to him before he gave himself entirely to you.

“What exactly are you proposing?” He murmured, and you exhaled as one would when they found something amusing, the ghost of a laugh. “You know what I’m proposing, Sehun. Don’t act as if I haven’t seen you teaching Chanyeol to tie his knots when he’s getting ready to go out on a field mission.”

His hand tugged yours towards him, and you moved as he sat back, resting his back against the couch as he helped you straddle his waist. You faced him, realizing with a giggle that he’d turned slightly pink at your accusation.

“Do me a favor,” He said, and you nodded, letting your free hand rest on his shoulder. “Never talk about Chanyeol when you’re trying to get me into bed again. You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on… Chanyeol, however, is the most unsexy person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

Your head tipped back with laughter, and he joined in with you. Your heart, upon hearing this, skipped a beat. You had a hard time recalling when the last he’d laughed was. “I think Sasha would disagree.”

“Yeah, but Sasha isn’t here now, is she? It’s just you and me.” He leaned forward, trapping your waist with his hands and letting his face come close to yours. You watched his eyes flutter down to watch your lips, inches away from yours. You gulped when his lips parted, his tongue peeking out to lick the pink skin.

“So you want me to tie you up. Take control.”

Your hands wrapped around his neck, and you smiled. “Only if you want to tie me up. I want you to have at least one thing you feel you can control.”

Sehun licked his lips again, sighing in amusement as he considered the idea. “Y’know, a few weeks ago, some of the field officers came in with a bunch of fabric they managed to smuggle out of LA…” His tone was quiet, and his hands began trailing downwards, pulling you against him, voice filling you with anticipation. Comfortable fabric was so difficult to come by these days, given that the Sect had taken what were once lavish city districts.

You gasped slightly when your core came into contact with his lap, feeling he was already starting to get hard, and felt your face heat up.

“I might’ve bought a silk tie or two off of ‘em,” He told you, eyes burning holes into your skin, “Wanted to see what my starshine would look like in pink.”

Your felt your hands tighten of their own volition against the fabric of his black t-shirt, your mind conjuring the mental image. “Fuck, Sehun. W-where’s the jute?”

He flashed a lopsided grin, and you felt the need to smack the smug look off of his face. How he could go from being so serious to this, was beyond you. You personally didn’t believe that The Brotherhood and The Lords of the Sect were gods, but Sehun’s duality, in situations like this, seemed to be supernatural at times, if you dared say so yourself.

He pressed his lips to yours briefly, before lightly nudging you to get off of his lap. “I’ll go get it, baby. Give me a second.”

He stood, catching his breath briefly, before walking down the hall, towards his closet. The hallway was slightly darker, and you stood, striding over to him as he pulled out the rope. He turned to face you, and he quickly cornered you against the wall.

“Shirt off. Bra, too.”

You grinned. “What are you gonna do this time?”

You could vaguely make out his features, but you knew his face was probably twisted up in smug satisfaction. Regardless, you obeyed silently, your chest rising and falling quickly with anticipation.

“Chest harness, for now,” He quipped, “Is that okay?”

You nodded, not breaking eye contact with him as you undressed yourself. You wanted him to realize that you weren’t backing down.

He seemed to read you perfectly, nodding in response to your answer as he watched you pull off the dark fabric, before reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. Even in the dim light of the corridor, you could see how his eyebrows raised and the way his lips parted slightly, lazy gaze falling down to your breasts. You knew what he was gawking at.

The studs embedded in your nipples were a dark stainless steel, glittering, alluring. You’d gotten them on a whim at nineteen from some clandestine tattoo artist on the way back from a field operation. He’d always had a bit of a fascination with them, the way they seemed to twinkle at him underneath the light.

"You gonna stare at me all night or will I have to tie myself up?”

Your playful jab snapped him out of his reverie, and he straightened his posture a few seconds later. “Go stand in front of the bed.” His voice was soft, but still commanding.

You stalked into the dark bedroom, standing in front of where you made the bed out to be. He followed you, before standing behind you. “Are you going to tie my hands up, too?"

"Not yet, starshine,” He declared quietly, into your left ear. You could tell he was untangling the jute, and you pursed your lips in anticipation. “You want to know what I’m about to do to you?”

“You know I do,” You whispered, a confession just for him, before lifting your arms and your hair for him to work.

“Too bad,” He sighed, ”Because I’m not telling you.”

You huffed, but didnt protest.

His arms began to wrap the rope below your ribcage, tightening the jute to the point where you could feel it digging into your skin, but enough to complicate your breathing. Taut, but not torturous. You closed your eyes, sighing quietly as he looped the jute higher up this time, just between your breasts and your collarbones, wrapping back to where he began, in the middle of your back.

The sensation of the rough fibers against your skin was by no means comfortable. It was scratchy and some stray fibers tickled at your chest. But its presence against your skin, the implications of its position and what was to come, was most definitely comforting. Intimacy with Sehun now was rare, you rarely even slept next to each other. But you knew that it wasn’t because of a strain in your relationship.

Sehun had always needed peace of mind and silence when it came to auguries and prophecy readings. Now, with the war coming so close to what seemed to be the end, he needed it more than ever, and the moments you shared with him came to a pause. You didn’t complain—the cause came before your emotions, now and always. But inside you were crying out for him; in concern, in longing, in yearning.

So maybe that’s why when he paused his ministrations and chuckled, tracing a finger down his spine, you whimpered quietly, thighs rubbing together in anticipation. “You have goosebumps,” He said, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“It’s been a while,” You answered, and he hummed in response, pressing a soft kiss to your nape. You sighed at the sensation.

“Drop your arms, and turn around to look at me,” Sehun whispered a few seconds later, and with some help from him to maneuver through the rope he was still trying to tie around you, you were able to complete his request.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” His voice was throaty, eyes scanning your body as you did the same, eyes landing on the growing bulge in his pants.

“Sehun, please just hurry.”

He shook his head, crooked smile still gracing his face. His hands worked quickly, looping the jute underneath the lowest rope, between your breasts.

“It’s not too tight, is it?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“It’s fine. Not too tight, not too loose.”

He nodded, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. “Okay. Let me know if it becomes too much at any point.”

“I know, Hun.”

Sehun’s dark eyes lifted their gaze from where his hands were working to meet your own, not saying anything. By now, the smile had faded, replaced by a stern look of concentration.

Be still, my heart, you thought, he is so beautiful.

“What?” You whispered, and he blinked.

His response was soft, gentle. “I would fucking die for you.”

You felt your face grow warm, and you lowered your gaze. “Sehun,” You murmured, “I—”

“Sh, sh,” He answered, continuing to tie the rope, “Listen to me, starshine. You’re it for me. There’s never been anyone else. A-and if anything happens, Lady Fate forbid it… There’ll never be anyone else.”

He finished his words as he tied off the final knot, and silently, you stood there, eyes shut as you pressed your forehead to his. For how long, you weren’t sure. Seconds, minutes, eons… Maybe no time had passed at all. You didn’t really care. Moments like these were never long enough, they always ended too soon. Sehun was your elixir of life, your lifeline, and in these moments, you felt immortal, invincible, powerful.

To be able to bring such a man like him to his knees, to be so ready to put himself on the line for you; you were sure it would be your ruin.

You surged forward, wrapping your arms around Sehun’s neck, and he caught you as you pressed your lips to his in a blazing kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You whined into the kiss, the dark cotton of his t-shirt pressing against your sensitive nipples and their piercings.

“Sehun,” You moaned into the kiss, reaching down to tug at the hem of his shirt. “N-not fair, take it off.”

He hummed, pulling away to comply with your protests, revealing toned skin and the broad shoulders you so adored.

“Is it fair now?” He asked, grabbing your upper arms to pull you closer and press kisses to your collarbones and along your sternum. “I should tie your hands now, maybe then you’ll learn you’re not allowed to touch without my permission.”

“Shut up,” You said, ignoring his declaration as he pushed you onto the bed. You peered up at his broad form, towering over you in the darkness, almost trembling in anticipation, waiting for him to put his hands on you, to make a move.

A few moments later, he finally did, reaching down to pull your pants off, as well as your underwear. He pressed soft kisses to your stomach as he did. When both garments were finally tossed aside, he lifted himself up onto the bed, lips trailing up across your skin. His eyes met yours as he gazed up at you, through you, before pressing his lips to one of your breasts, your sensitive nipples hardening at the contact of his warm mouth against the cool steel embedded in it.

Your head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut, unable to keep eye contact with your lover. One of your hands came up to comb through his dark hair, whimpering as he alternated between your nipples.

“Sehun, mmph, baby…” You murmured, coming back to look at him when he let go and came back to kiss at your jawline.

“Up, starshine,” He ordered, leaving no room for protest, arms wrapping around your waist and hauling you up to sit on his lap. As you squirmed to get comfortable in his grip, one of his hands reached for his nightstand’s drawer, and he pulled out two pastel pink silk ties. Your heart leaped towards your throat in excitement when you registered what these were, hips subconsciously searching for friction against his.

“Sit still,” He huffed as he closed the drawer, before straightening his posture, dwarfing you even sitting beneath you.

Wordlessly, he brought the tie up to your eyes, covering them before tying it at the back of your head with one tie, quickly doing the same to your hands with the other, tying them tightly in front of you.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” He mumbled, hands raking from your hair to down your back.

His hands came to grasp at your thighs, propping them so they rested only atop one of his. You felt your core clench at what he was alluding to, inhaling sharply.

“Move your hips, baby,” He said, and you couldn’t bring it in you to deny him.

Another thing you couldn’t do was speak, you found, as you prayed you could maintain your balance and began to slowly rock your hips against the rough fabric of his dark pants and his toned thigh, your bare pussy rubbing listlessly against the coarse fabric. You didn’t mind however, perfectly content to let him speak, murmuring strange hybrids of dirty and sweet things in your ear.

The hot pleasure between your legs seemed to double at the restriction in your ribs and not being able to see or anticipate where his hands or mouth were. You buried your head into the crook of Sehun’s neck, peppering wet, opened kisses against his collarbones, your nails digging into your palms with a vengeance in hopes of anchoring yourself to something.

The movements of your hips soon became capricious, rhythmless, your whimpers becoming louder and louder as he switched between flexing his thigh and bouncing it like a restless child. In the darkness of the silk tie, you could feel the callousness of his fingertips as they dug into your hips, a guided meditation through your pleasure.

The room reeked of incense and sex, you realized as you attempted to delay your slowly building release by focusing on different things. Smells, sounds, and finally, Sehun.

This was the Sehun you loved most, the one you cherished most in your heart. The Sehun that was so willing to give, give, and give, but not to the point of recklessness, unlike the Sehun you had seen so often lately in the war room. This Sehun was yours, and yours only. And if the growing wet spot against his rough pants was any indication, then your body loved this Sehun as well.

“S-Sehun.”

“Hmm?”

“P-please let me touch you.”

“Alright, since you asked so nicely.”

You clumsily began to search for his hard bulge, and he grabbed your tied hands and guided them to something hard and hot. You jumped slightly in surprise, not realizing he had taken himself out of his pants while you were humping away at his thigh like a bitch in heat.

He laughed at your squirming, and you slowed the rhythm of your hips in annoyance, but not completely—your hips had stopped folding to you, subconsciously rutting, twitching gently against the rough, now ruined fabric, perpetually searching for release.

“S-shut up,” You panted, and he laughed again, pressing another kiss to your jawline.

“You shut up. I still have to make you come.”

His hands resumed their leisurely movement on your hips, your focus snapping back to the impending edge, thoughts blurring into incoherency as the pleasure against your core. Mindlessly, you let go of Sehun’s member to bring your hands up to your mouth, attempting to spit crudely in order to improvise lube.

Instead, your heart jumped into your throat in arousal when Sehun grabbed your free hand and did the same, keening at his actions, eyebrows furrowing. And, despite feeling a slight annoyance at the chafing of your thighs, a feral instinct took over, and your hips sped up against his thighs.

“You look perfect like this,” He told you, guiding your hand back to where he needed you most, and you began to pump him slowly. His hands moved to wrap around your waist, large hands splaying possessively across your back.

“Gods, I wish you could see how lovely you look, starshine,” He mumbled, seemingly in a daze, “All mine.”

You nodded. “Y-yours, Hunnie. Only yours.”

He pressed a kiss to your collarbone, his breath picking up as your hands did the same, pace speeding up. He groaned against your skin as you pressed your thumb into the slit of his cock. Your movements were harsh, jerking against him as you felt yourself losing yourself in his touch.

“S-Sehun, I’m gonna…”

“I’ve got you,” He whispered, his voice your only anchor, “Let go, Y/N, it’s okay.”

Finally, finally, you crested, head tipping back, mouth falling open in a silent scream, body stiffening in his arms as you were possessed by pleasure. In the dark, colors danced around you, sounds could be touched, Sehun’s hands on your body tasted exquisite.

You didn’t even realize that your display had tipped Sehun over the edge, spilling himself onto your hands while he gripped your shoulders like his life depended on it.

When you came down from your orgasm, your chest heaving, you reached up to pull the blindfold off of your face, struggling slightly as you were still restrained by the silk tie. You blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the light of Sehun’s room, and found that he had fallen back onto the bed in the height of his orgasm.

His eyes had fluttered closed, panting furiously. He seemed loose, almost boneless, and you stifled a laugh at how much more relaxed he seemed now.

“I take it you had fun?” You asked, poking his stomach teasingly. After a moment of silence, of what you assumed to be Sehun trying to catch his breath, you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Hunnie, come on, get up. Can you untie me, please, baby?”

No response. If anything, Sehun’s pants seemed to be getting even heavier.

“Sehun?”

His eyes fluttered open, and your blood ran cold.

His eyes had rolled up into his head, mouth opening and closing as if he were trying to say something but he’d lost his voice. Around you, the temperature seemed to drop.Out of nowhere, the scent of incense returned, stronger than ever, and beneath you, Sehun tensed, muscles contracting as he began to seize.

You froze, momentarily unsure of what was happening. Here lay your lover, convulsing under you, and you were restrained to a point where it would be difficult to help him. Panic creeped into your stomach, eyes searching for something, anything, that would get you out of the grasp of the silk tie. You brought your wrists up to your teeth, frantically hoping to loosen the knot. Sehun was still convulsing. Your eyes drifted around the room, glancing at his stiff hands, gnarled into unrecognizable gestures. Your clothes were on the floor, but you had left your knife in your room.

Knife. Sehun’s knife.

You lunged for the nightstand, knowing that was where he kept his switchblade in case of an emergency, tumbling to the floor as your legs gave out, still wobbly from both panic and your previous orgasm. You managed to open the drawer, clumsily fumbling for the blade, before pulling it out, holding it between your teeth and bringing your wrists up to your mouth, beginning to saw away at the lovely, pale fabric, suddenly not caring about its softness or its illusion of luxury.

All you needed was to know that Sehun was okay.

Your eyes squeezed shut at the thought that he might be dying, and when the final strands of silk finally gave way, you practically spat out the knife, grabbing onto the nightstand for balance, turning to look at Sehun on your weak legs.

He wasn’t on the bed anymore. Your eyebrows furrowed, head spinning as you tried to figure out what was going on.

“Beware the master of tongues.”

You shrieked, eyes snapping up from where the deep, almost demonic voice had come from, and almost fainted then and there.

Because somehow, Sehun was floating above you, suspended in midair, eyes open wide but not a sliver of brown could be seen. In its place shone a bright silver, the holiest of metals for the unholiest sight.

“Beware the master of tongues,” The voice spoke again, speaking through Sehun, who was stiff as a board, face contorted into a sneer, and you realized with a chill that this wasn’t Sehun, but rather the Oracle.

“Beware the master of tongues,” He said once more, as his sneer morphed into a cruel grin, “But beware more the wrath of the faceless one.”

#kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop imagines #kpop x reader #kpop au #exo x reader #exo scenarios #exo smut #exo imagines #sehun x reader #sehun smut #sehun scenarios #my writing #fic: aygaf

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