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#so I read it and found it much more charming than I expected
oliversrarebooks · 2 days
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The Rare Bookseller Part 53: Fitz's Terrible Idea
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tw: conditioning, mind control, Stockholm syndrome, arrow wound, blood, blood drinking
August 1905
Alexander was seated peacefully by the fire, a soft blanket draped across his lap, lost in the enormous musty book in his hands. It was a scene of perfect tranquility. A perfect scene for Fitz to disrupt.
"So, what are you reading, sir?" he said, flopping down sideways on the couch and draping himself halfway across Alexander's lap, jostling his book and looking up at him with a shameless grin.
His master sighed, but smiled at Fitz. "I was reading about the customs and ways of the local faefolk."
"Faefolk, sir? You mean like fairies?" Fitz asked. "I knew a guy who was running a racket making fake pictures of fairies to sell to rubes. You're saying they're real, sir?"
"They're very real, and you're unlikely to get a picture of them unless they want you to," said Alexander. "They used to be found in the human world much more often, before humans industrialized. Now, most of the once-proud clans are scattered tribes in slow decline in the few wild places left. Centuries ago, it was common enough for faefolk to mingle with humans that many humans today have traces of fae blood."
"Is that so, sir?" said Fitz. Normally he would find this kind of lecture to be boring, but his master's voice was so captivating that he could happily listen to anything.
"You do, too, I'm sure of it. Your blood smells of it."
"Oh, really, sir?" he said, sitting up a bit. "It's hard to imagine any of my dusty old ancestors making love to a fairy."
"I imagine your ancestors weren't as dusty and boring as you imagine. I expect some of them were more like you."
"Are you saying that I would cavort with a fairy, given the chance?" Fitz laughed. "Because you're absolutely right, sir, I would."
"You see what I mean?"
Fitz leaned in closer, shamelessly running his hand through Alexander's hair. "Well, if I'm a fairy, you'd better be careful, sir, or one day I'll drag you away to fairy-land."
"I dearly wish you would," said Alexander, serious and sad.
Fitz's breath caught. They stared at each other for a long moment. And then the spell between them was broken.
"Unfortunately, I need to go out tonight. Business."
"What business is more important than this, sir?" said Fitz, irritated at being spurned and annoyed that he was irritated.
"It's important. I'll tell you what it is eventually. But for now, I have to go."
And so Fitz found himself alone once more in front of the slowly dying fire, eating an apple, with nothing to occupy his mind but his own thoughts -- the worst way to spend his evening.
He was growing too comfortable here, he knew that. The manor was filled with dust and the scent of deteriorating book bindings, but once he'd gotten used to that, it was strangely like a home. It was less ostentatiously luxurious than the mansion of his childhood, but somehow, despite being a vampire's manor, more comfortable and less oppressive. He slept on the finest sheets, ate expensive foods, and bathed with a wide selection of high-end imported toiletries. Alexander, despite his ability to sink Fitz into a stupor with a word, never criticized, never spoke in anger, never demanded anything of Fitz but his blood.
And thanks to the many layers of mesmeric spell he was under, that blood was all too easy to give.
Alexander, his vampiric master, was the real problem. Between his mesmerism, good looks, and quiet charms, he had Fitz firmly wrapped around his finger, like it or not. Even during the day, when he tossed and turned in a fruitless attempt to sleep, he thought of Alexander, his unkept hair, his gentle hands, and especially his captivating voice. He knew he shouldn't feel that way about a vampire who had purchased him from an auction and was keeping him captive and in dire peril, but his idiotic emotions and the spell laid thick on his mind said otherwise.
It wasn't as though it was likely that Alexander had genuine feelings towards him, no matter how much it seemed that way at times. Fitz knew he was a convenient source of blood. Effectively a grocery item. He knew better than to think his master's need was anything more than that.
Fitz sighed as he tossed the half-eaten apple into the air, missing the catch and watching as it rolled under a couch. Alexander had been leaving for the night more frequently lately, and Fitz was painfully bored without an audience for his chatter and whims.
An audience! Apart from his freedom, that was the main thing he was missing out of life. He needed the stage, the rush of applause, the thrill of holding a crowd captive. Alexander had promised him he could have it, but since then he'd dismissed Fitz when he asked about it.
That thought gave Fitz some direction for what he wanted to do with the evening. He marched upstairs to his bedroom and donned an eye-catching purple frock with an actual collar. He wanted something to keep Alexander's attention without enticing him to feed, so that Fitz could flirt his way into what he wanted.
And then he waited for his master to return. And waited. And waited.
He really shouldn't be so worried about the vampire who was keeping him captive. After all, if something happened to his master, maybe the spell would lift from him, he'd come to his senses, and he could escape this place. That's what he tried to tell himself, but the idea that something could happen to Alexander filled him with a sick dread instead.
Just as he was on the verge of tearing his hair out in frustration, the front door opened and Alexander staggered inside. His steps were ragged and he was panting hard, the problem plain to see -- an honest-to-god arrow sticking out of his upper arm.
"God damn," he said. "What happened to you, sir?"
"Fitz," said Alexander with pleading eyes. "Please…"
That was more than enough to make him abandon all his plans, as clearly his master was in no state for his skillful manipulations. Fitz rushed to prop Alexander up.
"Help me upstairs, to my bathroom. I need to treat this wound."
"How the hell did you get shot with an arrow here in the city, sir?"
"Can the explanation wait until I've removed the arrow?"
"That's fair, sir." Fitz guided his master up the stairs as Alexander winced and whimpered.
Fitz had been in his master's bedroom a few times before, primarily to help him with his hair and outfit, and was comforted by the fact that Alexander's sleeping quarters was as much of a disaster as his had always been. He had ample experience picking his way through discarded laundry on the floor, and soon he was helping his master sit at the edge of his bathtub. Fitz wasted no time unbuttoning Alexander's shirt and tossing it aside, an action that was purely in his master's best interest for treating his injury and nothing more.
"Get a towel ready, a green one from the bottom shelf, and some bandages. I'm going to pull out the arrow."
"Doesn't that do more harm than good, sir?" said Fitz, preparing the requested items anyway..
"That may be true for a human at risk of bleeding out, but this wound can't kill me. The faster I remove the arrow, the faster I can start to heal."
"If you say so, sir."
Alexander wrapped the old towel around the arrow, and Fitz watched in horrified fascination as he took a deep breath and yanked. The blood gushing from the wound soaked straight through the towel as Alexander pressed it to his arm, making some truly godawful noises. Fitz fidgeted nervously, wanting to do something to help but feeling entirely out of his depth. He grabbed a washcloth off the bottom shelf and ran it under warm water.
"Here, sir, let me wash the wound."
"It's fine. I just need bandages."
"It could fester, sir, and I don't think either of us would enjoy that."
"It won't fester. The same magic that keeps this dead body upright also protects it from rot and infection. Otherwise I'd be little better than a bloated corpse."
Fitz shifted nervously, uneasy at the reminder that the handsome face in front of him was, in fact, long dead. "Let me wash it anyway, sir."
"…All right." Alexander took the towel off the wound and presented it to Fitz, who was struggling hard to not get woozy and keel over at the sight of it. He took it in his hands as though he were an experienced field medic, dabbing at it with the warm washcloth, and he felt vindicated as the pain on Alexander's face began to recede slightly.
"So… you've removed the arrow, sir."
"So I have."
"You told me you were going to explain how you were shot, sir."
Alexander scowled and looked away, remaining silent for so long that Fitz thought he would have to badger him to get anything out. "Hunter," he finally said.
"Hunter, sir?"
"A vampire hunter. Every city with a vampire population attracts them, a small but dedicated group."
"Vampire hunters…" It wasn't a possibility Fitz had thought of, but he supposed that it made sense.
"I don't usually have any trouble with hunters," Alexander said. "They mostly hunt vampires who prey on people in the streets. I keep my own thrall, and generally stay confined to the manor. Besides that, my vampiric aura is enough to keep most hunters at bay."
"And yet, this arrow didn't embed itself in your flesh all by itself, sir."
"No, it didn't."
"So why'd a hunter attack you this time, sir?"
"I had hoped not to tell you yet, but I suppose you should know," said Alexander. "I'm recruiting hunters to try and kill my sire."
Fitz looked to the bloody gash in front of him, then down at the discarded arrow. "Far be it from me to criticize my master, sir, but it seems your recruitment tactic may leave something to be desired."
Alexander chuckled. "Hunters won't help a vampire willingly, even to kill another vampire. They have to be persuaded."
"So you're mesmerizing them into doing your dirty work, sir?"
"A dozen so far, and I hope to get at least a dozen more."
"A dozen, sir…" Fitz put down the washcloth and began to wrap Alexander's arm in clean bandages as he thought about this. Alexander was risking his life against a dozen vampire hunters or more to try and kill his sire. Primarily to protect him.
He should be concerned, but instead, his treacherous heart fluttered. His hand brushed against Alexander's chest. His master gave it a long and lonely look, as though he'd never been touched there before.
His master was so solitary. How long had it been since he'd last been touched?
How long had it been since Fitz had last been touched?
Before he could think better of it, he ran his hand through Alexander's soft hair, palm lingering on his cheek as he traced down his face. To Fitz's surprise, his master leaned into the touch, drinking it in like a parched man. Fitz repeated the action with more confidence this time, enjoying the wistful look in his eyes.
"…Be careful," Alexander said finally.
"Careful of what, sir?"
"What you're doing. You must know by now that my feelings towards you are… You should be careful."
Fitz's eyes went wide. Was this a manipulation? Alexander, still looking tired and pained, seemed in no state to be engaging in manipulation.
"Well, sir, I appreciate your advice, but I've found that I never get anywhere in life when I'm being careful."
He was pushing his hand through Alexander's hair to the back of his head, pressing his master's lips to his, hardly caring that they were cold and chapped. He'd wanted this since the first time they'd met in the auction house, and the fact that it was a terrible idea only made Fitz want it more.
Alexander's hands closed around his arms as if to push him away, but he didn't. Instead he pushed forward, returning the kiss, and Fitz felt a giddy thrill in his heart at having finally charmed the stubborn, lonely vampire into reciprocating his affection. They tumbled onto the bathroom floor, Alexander halfway on top of Fitz, and Alexander was desperate as though he hadn't been kissed in a hundred years. Well, he probably hadn't.
Alexander suddenly stopped and drew back, guilt on his face. "I -- I shouldn't -- "
Fitz closed the distance between them once more before either of them could ruin the moment by thinking too much. He needed this. He needed the touch, and even if it was unnaturally cold, he was still drinking it in. He especially needed this infuriatingly stubborn vampire to prove his affections.
It wasn't love, Fitz knew that much. It was bloodlust and regular lust and need, and that suited Fitz better. He would never understand love, but need -- he could understand that.
Alexander's breath hitched, and Lex thought it was desire, until he grasped at the wound on his shoulder. In the excitement, Fitz had almost forgotten about the crossbow bolt. He opened his mouth to ask, but the words died in his throat, as he found himself suddenly enthralled, thoughts scattering.
"The wound pains me, and a bit of blood would help me heal," he said. "I can't be this close to you without the urge overtaking me."
"Good," said Fitz, succumbing easily to the desire. He pushed his master's head gently to the space between neck and shoulder. "Take me, then. Drink from me. I'm all yours."
Alexander hummed, his lips pressed to Fitz's neck and his voice reverberating in his head, sending Fitz further into a dream of bliss. He barely felt the puncture, lying sprawled on the bathroom floor with his master on top of him, swimming in pleasure as his blood drained from his body. The feeding turned to soft nibbles at his jaw and his ear, and Fitz didn't care that his master's lips were stained with blood as he was pulled into a kiss.
"You should warm my bed tonight, Fitz," Alexander murmured into his ear.
Fitz raised his eyebrows. "Is that invitation what I think it is, sir…?"
"…if you're thinking of something lewd, I'm afraid not," said Alexander. "My… desires of that nature cooled along with my blood. I'm truly asking for you to warm my bed."
"So I can serve as a glorified hot water bottle as well as a bloodbag, is that right, sir?"
"No," said Alexander with painful sincerity. "You're much more than a bloodbag."
"And what else am I, sir?" said Fitz, looking up at his master, flashing his least trustworthy smile. "A brilliant entertainer? A scintillating conversationalist?"
"Fitz," said Alexander, placing a hand on his cheek and catching Fitz's eyes with his. "My Fitz."
"Your Fitz," he repeated, feeling mesmerized once more although he wasn't sure his master was actually doing anything. "I suppose I am, sir."
His master looked away. "You don't actually have to call me 'sir' or 'master', you know. It's fine if you don't."
Fitz grinned. "Oh, is that so, Alexander, sir?" The grin left his face as he realized what he'd just done. "Oh, damn that Miss Lily. I'm not going to be able to stop."
Alexander chuckled. "I don't really go by Alexander, anyway. Only my sire and strangers call me that. I go by Lex."
"Lex," repeated Fitz, leaning into his ear, "sir," he added, as seductively as possible, enjoying how his master -- no, Lex -- shivered.
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Thanks for reading! Next week, Oliver gets some help from Lily.
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moremousewrites · 2 days
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Unforseen Events
Pairing: Astarion/Reader
Summary: After stumbling upon the Last Light Inn, you discover an interesting substance in one of the rooms you've been boarded in. Astarion has an idea how to use it, but so do you. The night just might yield a surprising result for the both of you
Tags: Smut, light angst, Shadowheart mentioned, rimming, anal fingering, miscommunication, handjobs, canon compliant lubrication
A/N: okay Tav (reader) is technically gender neutral in the sense i didn't describe them or use gendered pronouns however the context could imply they're afab. But it could be interpreted either way if you so choose. Either way please enjoy!
The Last Light Inn was a safe haven amongst the blight of the shadow cursed lands. Your party was exhausted after fighting its way to sanctuary, and Jaheira, the head harper allowed you shelter for the night. You thanked her, and made your way to the rooms that were available. 
Upon opening a communal closet you found several ornate bottles. “Huh, what's this?” You asked, turning one bottle in your hand.
Shadowheart inspected the object “Aloe oil. It's useless, it has no healing properties. It's worth more to us to sell” she took it from you and held it to the light to confirm its contents.
“Well, not useless. I can think of a couple of ways to use this” Astarion piped up from behind you, picking up another bottle from the shelf.
Shadowheart scowled at the veiled comment. “How very crafty of you. Perhaps you can use it to slip out of our lives forever” she placed the bottle down and left the room before Astarion could retort.
“What do you say, darling? Care for a demonstration?” Astarion asked, flashing his charming smile at you.
“Oh! Sure, I'd love to” you examined the substance in his hand. “tonight then?”
“Every waiting moment will be agony” He flourished his hand, adding emphasis.
After taking a well deserved bath, scrubbing off the blood and dirt from your body, you met Astarion in a private room. He was shirtless already, and had groomed and perfumed himself. He seemed to have set the room with carafes of wine and water, candles lit various surfaces as if this were a ceremony.
You strode over to him, kissing him where he stood. His hands found their way to your ass, rolling your hips onto his as you sucked his tongue into your mouth.
“I must confess something” he broke the kiss. You hummed in inquiry. “I've wanted to do this with you for quite some time”
“Oh I have to confess something as well. I haven't done this in a while, I might be a bit unpracticed” You give him a faint smile as he squeezes your ass tighter.
“That won't be an issue my dear, let me guide you” Astarion used his practiced charm on you, ready to take control.
You gave him a look that was hard to read. “Are we on the same page here?” 
Astarion feared he pushed for something you're not quite ready for. He thought you knew what he was suggesting when he mentioned the oil's usefulness. “I… thought so. What exactly did you have in mind, my sweet?” Preparing for the worst, Astarion expected rejection. Perhaps you just wanted a vanilla romp in bed. He could work with that. But you'd been experimental up until now, and Astarion was unsure where the confusion lied.
You gave him a mischievous look and pushed him onto the bed. 
While you'd taken him by surprise, he was much more interested in what you had in mind at this point and let you take the lead- for now.
You took off his pants, pushing his legs up “what are you-” he's cut off by the feeling of your tongue pressing against his asshole, causing a pinched cry to eek from his lips.
“Is this okay?” You pulled back in concern, never having heard the sound come from him before. Its raw pleasure, completely unscripted and unfocused on you. Astarion isn't totally sure of the answer but he knows it feels good and nods anyway. “I need your words'' you insisted.
“Yes, please keep going” he spoke, more breath than voice. 
You pulled his ass cheeks apart and tongued his hole again, circling the tight ring of muscle. His cock pulsed against his stomach and you looked up to see his precum smear against his stomach. 
His hands were fisting the sheets, desperate to remain in control, but when you form a tight grip around his balls to constrict him, his back arches and he breaks
“Please, Tav, please give me more. My cock, my ass, anything”
It's a side of him you've never seen before. He's never surrendered to you this way and it's beautiful. You're honoured.
You pull away from him, causing him to whine in defeat, only to uncork the aloe oil bottle from earlier. The substance is cooling on your hands, and fantastically lubricating. 
You lather your hands and take his weeping cock first, stroking him slowly as he as his hips meet your hand to match your pace. He's so desperate for your attention you don't dare stop him now. 
“Tell me if it's too much” you warn him and lightly prod at his asshole with a lubricated digit, toying with him. He groans in relief when you slide your first finger in, pressing your knuckles against his ass.
He's panting now, begging you through stuttering breaths, “more, please” his cock twitches in your hand as you roll your thumb over his red tip.
Another finger slips in and you scissor them, spreading his hole for your fingers as you begin pumping them in tandem with your other hand. Astarion's hips are undulating against your thrusts, bucking onto your fingers as he reaches his ecstasy. You see it in his taut muscles, his tightened balls, he's nearly there.
“Come for me, Astarion, let go” your words are a reassurance, not a command. Still, he isn't quite ready to come undone.
You curl your fingers upward inside him and as he descends upon them, his pleasure shatters him. 
Astarion let out a sound that could only be described as a howl. The intensity of his orgasm frankly shocked you. His spend shot as far as his chin, and covered the expanse of his chest. He shuddered as his cock softened in your hand.
“Astarion? Are you alright?” You asked, concerned by his new demeanor. From the few times you'd laid with Astarion, he'd only ever focused on your pleasure, though you really insisted on pleasuring him. His orgasms had always been quite restrained, especially compared to this.
When you removed your fingers from him, he blinked, as if awaking. “Oh? Yes, that was-” He looked down at himself and to you, perched between his legs, eyes filled with worry. “You said you've done that before?” He asked, a bit lost for words. 
You smiled, taking some rags off of the nearby dresser and wiping off his chest. “Yes, plenty of times. Though it's been some time as I said before,” Astarion felt an odd twinge at your admission. He knew you weren't particularly picky with your bedfellows, hence his situation with you. And it made sense he'd feel territorial over you, he needed you for his arrangement to work. But it seemed he actually felt… jealous.
“Have you?” You asked, wiping your hands.
“Yes, of course” he answered, curtly. So why did it feel different? Why did it feel good?
You both sat in silence for a moment, sitting in each other's presence. 
“May I ask, how did you expect tonight to go?” 
Astarion sat up, meeting your eye and giving you his charming smile “Truthfully, darling, I expected to be the one inside your ass tonight” 
You try to suppress a chuckle only to let loose a hearty laugh. Astarion recoils from you, scowling. “Oh, I'm sorry, it's not funny, really. It's just that the thought hadn't even crossed my mind. You see, I was never really much of a ‘receiver’. At least, not before I met you. But I can see why you thought that now” you explained, trying to reconcile the situation. “I suppose we both should work on our communication skills in the future. But I'm open to the idea if you still are” you offer him your hand.
Surprising the both of you, he takes it. “Well, we've still got a few bottles of the oil left” he nodded to the shelf. 
“I'm up for it if you are” you leaned in to kiss him, and Astarion reciprocated. 
“Yes, I believe I am”
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bookwyrminspiration · 9 months
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Quill do you like carry one, and will you talk about it? It is one of my favorite books
-⚙️
I presume you mean Carry On by Rainbow Rowell? In which case yes, I enjoyed it. I haven't read it in a while, so I'm fuzzy on some details, but I recall finding it quite sweet.
I also appreciated, at the very least as a thought experiment, the framing of the story time wise. A typical story would follow Simon's journey from learning he was magickal, to going to Watford, to his first meeting with the Humdrum, all building up towards Carry On as the conclusion. Which would've also been a great story, but instead we start near that ending and ask what happens after? What happens when a hero isn't a hero anymore, when his story is over? Does his story have to be over? Or does it just shift? Which is a fascinating concept in my opinion, though I know it's not for everyone.
The idea of magic tied to word usage and meaning is also fascinating; it requires an objective observation and understanding of society's functionings, changing based on region, and that's!! so cool!! how language shapes the world and changes and the meaning behind it. LOVE a magic system with restrictions and specific rules, even though they may not be expected
I'm quite cliche and Baz is my favorite character, and specifically talking about book one I think the dragon scene and the Baz comforting Simon at the very end are my favorite scenes? but like I said, it's been a while, so there may be others
i should give it a reread at some point :)
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cleo-fox · 7 months
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Overtime
Summary: Sometimes, working overtime isn’t all that bad.
Pairings: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+ minors DNI, sex, cunnilingus, teasing, light bondage, office romance.
Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel).
A/N: This was largely written prior to season 2 and posted right before episode 4, so it’s not entirely canon compliant and the parts that are may be compliant by accident.
Also, @give-me-a-moose and I were on a similar wavelength about Loki angrily reading romance novels and I would strongly recommend checking out her fic The Imagine Nation if you too are enthralled by this idea.
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You don’t think that Mobius intended to keep Loki’s desk behind yours.
“It’s temporary,” he tells you apologetically. “He just needs somewhere to go for now, until I figure out what to do with him.”
“You’re talking about him like he’s a stray cat that you found,” you say.
“You won’t even know he’s there, I promise.”
“You’re still doing it.”
Mobius sighs and puts on his most sincere, earnest expression—the one that he always uses when he’s about to ask you for a stupidly massive favor.
And it’s only because you almost never, ever see this look from him that you back down.
“Okay, fine,” you say. “But he’d better be on his best behavior.”
Mobius puts his palms together and tips them toward you. “Thank you. You will not regret this, I promise.”
You sigh and shake your head. “Just remember this next time you’re budgeting for raises.”
But then—in a move that you certainly don’t expect—Loki ends up sticking around. And, in the subtle way that the stray you’ve been feeding slowly turns into your cat, Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. And strangely enough, Mobius’ assurances turn out to be more correct than not: Loki does a lot of fieldwork and is often away; when he is at his desk, it tends to be because he is working on more complicated missions, the ones that require poring over mountains of files looking for patterns and trying to untangle the slippery mess of time itself.
Your work is decidedly less glamorous than Loki’s—almost no fieldwork, lots of files. Endless files. Some days you feel as though you must have seen every file in the TVA’s extensive library and then you’re immediately proven wrong by another wing of filing cabinets that you swear wasn’t even there before.
Although he is generally well-behaved as your desk neighbor, Loki’s presence has a way of distracting you. Even if you didn’t know who he was, your gaze would still naturally drift his way, lingering on those regal cheekbones, that ink black hair, that cunning smirk. The way that the fabric of his dress pants clings to his thighs certainly doesn’t help, to say nothing of how his forearms look with his shirtsleeves rolled up. He can make your heart start to race with no more than a casual glance in your direction and god help you if he gives you one of those devastating smiles. Luckily, you don’t think he takes that much notice of you. You have the sort of pleasantly dull exchanges of coworkers who don’t really know each other and he is almost painfully polite to you. It’s a strong departure from the way he interacts with others—with others, he is bold, charming, sarcastic, talkative, a far cry from the more subdued, almost courtly tone he strikes with you. It’s a difference that is so stark that you can’t help but attribute it to some sort of negative feeling on his end.
“How’s it going with Loki?” Mobius asks you during a one-on-one meeting a couple of months after Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. “He’s behaving himself, right?”
“It’s been fine,” you say, “though truthfully, I don’t think he likes me all that much.”
“What? Of course he likes you,” Mobius says. “Why wouldn’t he like you? You’re lovely.”
You shrug. “I dunno, he’s just different with me than he is with everyone else. Like…overly polite. It’s like he thinks I’m going to send him to the principal’s office or something.”
“Let me get this straight,” says Mobius. “First you were worried that he wouldn’t behave himself and now you’re worried that he’s too well-behaved?”
Privately, you realize he has a point. Outwardly, though, you’re not going to admit it. The sardonic tilt of Mobius’ mouth suggests that he knows this.
“No, I just…I don’t think he likes me all that much,” you say. “And he’s entitled to that. People don’t like each other all the time, it’s not a big deal.”
This is also a little bit of a lie—you do wish he liked you. Loki is so magnetic it’s hard not to want his attention. And with the matter of your silly little crush, well…that doesn’t help either.
Mobius sighs. “I think you’re overthinking this. He likes you, sometimes it just takes him a little time to warm up. He’s a bit of a prickly guy.”
You bite down the urge to point out that you’ve seen him warm to other people almost immediately. This conversation has already gone on longer than you want and you are edging dangerously close to having to admit that you care so much because you have a big stupid crush on him, which is obviously unacceptable.
“Well, the point is that it’s fine,” you say quickly, trying to project an aura of cool confidence. “I don’t have any complaints, he seems like he’s settling in, so let’s move on. Did you have any feedback on my recent report?”
The furrow between Mobius’ eyebrows deepens just slightly, the only indication that he doesn’t fully believe you. But for whatever reason, he decides to let it go and follows your change in topic without further comment.
This is one of the reasons you like Mobius as much as you do: he always seems to know the right moment to push and the right moment to bend.
You’re not sure if your relationship with Loki would have changed had it not been for the problem of Charles Berlitz.
The joke around the office is that after Mobius convinced Loki to work for the TVA, he needed something new to obsess over and Charles Berlitz was the next best option. It’s hard to say exactly who Berlitz is, as he has a tendency of showing up, well…everywhere. He is quite literally in every timeline, at least as far as anyone can tell. Sometimes he is an author, penning serious, scholarly essays on outlandish theories like the Bermuda Triangle and the Philadelphia Experiment. He seems to have a fondness for all manner of schemes—he was responsible for introducing both homeopathy and multi-level marketing to no fewer than sixty different timelines. His ability to peddle bullshit naturally led him to politics—pick any rebellion, coup, or campaign on any given timeline and there’s a good chance you’ll also find Charles Berlitz.
Scammers and con artists are not atypical in your line of work, but what makes Charles Berlitz an enduring mystery is that he has never been found. You can have reputable documentary evidence that Berlitz was present at a certain time and location, but if you show up to investigate, he is never there. There have been some glimpses over the years—a shadowy face in the back of a crowd, the hem of a cloak disappearing behind a corner—but nothing concrete or substantive.
“Our ghost in the timeline,” Mobius had said in one of his more poetic moments at an all staff meeting, his voice overly hushed and dramatic. You had seen Loki roll his eyes and you had to fake a coughing fit to hide your laugh.
Time moves differently at the TVA, so it’s hard to say how long Mobius has been working on this case when he makes a breakthrough, but it’s not terribly long after your conversation about Loki. A campaign button had been found in an apartment that Berlitz rented for two years in the French Quarter. That particular campaign button could only have existed in one specific timeline and its distribution was limited. You aren’t entirely clear on all of the details, but Mobius seems to have a plan.
And unfortunately, that plan involves you giving up most of your weekend to work.
It’s near quitting time on what passes for a Friday at the TVA. Loki has been in today and you can hear him starting to pack up. Technically, he’s got twenty minutes of work left, but you’re not about to tell him that.
You doodle absently on your notepad. Technically, you’ve also got twenty minutes of work left, but realistically: nothing is happening.
“Oh, great, you’re both still here.”
In general, this phrase has never meant good news for you and when you look up, you see Mobius with a sizable armful of files.
Also not a great sign.
Mobius plunks the stack of files directly on your desk. “There’s been a development with Berlitz. I need you both to review these now.”
“It’s Friday,” says Loki, affronted. “Surely it can wait until Monday.”
“No can do. I need this done by Sunday at the latest,” says Mobius. “This is an all hands on deck situation.”
Loki glances pointedly at the office around you, which has already started emptying out for the weekend.
“All hands on deck, but most hands are already in the field,” Mobius concedes. “Which is why I need the two of you—” He points to you. “You because you’re good—” He gestures to Loki. “And you because you’ve got desk duty.”
“I beg your pardon—” begins Loki.
“He’s grounded,” Mobius says to you in an exaggerated stage whisper.
This is not surprising to you: you had heard a rumor last week about an incident that had occurred on a mission to the inauguration of Richard Nixon and you suspect that these two events are likely connected.
You look at the pile of paperwork on your desk. You could probably get through it on your own in a couple of hours, but if Loki’s helping, maybe you still have a shot at having Saturday to yourself. You bite back a sigh. “What do you need me to find?”
“Anything that mentions anyone from the Lucchese crime family or Nero Variant N2815,” says Mobius. “I’ll go get the rest.”
Your heart sinks. Farewell, Saturday. “There’s more?” you say.
“It’ll be triple overtime, I already got it approved!” he calls over his shoulder
You sigh and glance at Loki who is scowling at the pile of files as though they’d wronged him personally.
There’s a long moment of silence before you speak. “Is there any truth to the rumor I’ve been hearing about the Nixon inauguration?” you ask.
“If it involved a hot air balloon, then yes,” he says rather tonelessly.
“Well.” You pause as you stare at the pile of papers. “At least it was worth it.”
That at least earns you a hint of a smile.
*
Several hours later, your stomach is growling and you’ve developed a rather impressive crick in your neck.
You lean back in your chair, stretching your neck to the side and rubbing the knot that is pulsing in your upper trapezius. Office work has done nothing positive for your posture in general, but tonight’s work has you hunched over more than usual and your neck is aching.
You and Loki have made good progress, but your pile of finished and sorted files is scarcely comparable to the full cart that Mobius had brought in. Back when the evening was new and you weren’t quite so tired, you’d been optimistic about possibly having half a Saturday free from work; that hope has slipped away the longer the evening has dragged on. Now you’re hoping that you’ll still have a bit of Sunday to yourself and even that feels unlikely.
Your stomach growls again. You should probably eat something—you’d worked through your regular dinner hour in a fit of misplaced optimism. The cafeteria is closed this time of night, but there’s a vending machine not far from your office that has shitty coffee and mostly edible sandwiches.
You stand and stretch, stifling a yawn as you turn around. “I’m gonna grab a coffee and some dinner,” you say. “Do you want anything?”
Loki looks up at you from the file in front of him, blinking somewhat dazedly and running a hand through his messy curls. “I’d like to stretch my legs a bit, if you don’t mind the company.”
You honestly didn’t expect him to want to join you. It’s a pleasant surprise, certainly, but also a little nerve wracking in the way that interacting with Loki always is. He’s so handsome and aloof and you’re not quite sure how to talk to him without acting like a total fool.
But you’re also not about to say no, either.
“Of course,” you say, “I don’t mind at all.”
The TVA is unusually quiet at this time of night—the steady hum of fluorescent lights and the murmur of distant voices is all that accompanies the tap of your shoes on the linoleum. It only heightens the jittery, nervous feeling you get from Loki—like your stomach is filled with drunk, lightning struck butterflies.
“Are you finding much?” asks Loki as you enter the hallway together.
You shrug. “A bit. Mostly on the Nero variant. I’m not having as much luck with the Luccheses.”
“I’ve got all of their property transfers, I think,” he says. “Renato Lucchese never met a vineyard he didn’t like.”
“Or racehorses, from what I understand,” you say. “I think that’s how he lost most of his money.”
You arrive at the vending machines. Loki looks at the vending machines and then back at you, a somewhat puzzled and troubled expression on his face.
“This is what you meant when you said you were going to get coffee and dinner?”  he says.
You shrug. “Yeah, what’s wrong with this?”
He points at the coffee machine. “Mobius calls that machine Satan’s coffeemaker, does he not?”
“Yes, but I know how to trick it into giving me something that’s almost palatable,” you say.
Loki gives you a rather dry look. “Something that’s almost palatable?”
“I mean, I’m just trying to manage your expectations. It’s still pretty shitty coffee, it just tastes less burned.”
He looks at you for a long moment before tilting his head toward the hallway. “Come on, let’s go.”
It’s your turn to look skeptical. “What are we doing?”
“We’re going out for dinner.”
*
He takes you to a twenty-four hour diner called Frank’s that’s maybe a five minute walk from the TVA. It’s one of those places with yellowing Formica tables and big booths covered in red faux leather patched with the occasional square of duct tape. It smells like coffee and grease with a faint odor of cigarette smoke despite the prominent no smoking signs.
“I wouldn’t have thought this kind of place was your style,” you say as you sit down in a booth next to the window.
“I’ve expanded my horizons,” he says, sliding into the seat across from you.
An older woman with greying blonde hair approaches your booth. She wears a nametag reading “Connie” in big capital letters, a sticker of a pink cat stuck on the space next to her name.
“How y’all doin’ tonight?” she says as she hands you each a laminated menu. She looks at Loki. “You want your usual?”
“Please,” he says.
“You got it.” She turns to you. “How ‘bout you, hon, can I get ya started with something to drink?”
“Coffee would be great.”
“All right, I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
You raise your eyebrows at Loki as she walks away. “You eat at diners and you have a usual order. My expectations are being completely upended.”
He returns your pleasantly amused expression. “And you have vending machine coffee for dinner. It’s a revealing night.”
“I mean, I don’t actively seek it out,” you say. “It’s a convenient option that I exercise only when I have no other choice.”
“No other choice?” A sly smile curls at his lips. “Do you not have the entire array of space and time at your fingertips?”
“Well, first of all, we aren’t supposed to use TemPads for personal errands without a supervisor’s approval.”
“Technically.”
“No, actually. It’s in the personnel manual. Like verbatim.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You would put yourself through the egregious physical suffering of vending machine coffee simply to appease the capricious whims of our cruel overseer Miss Minutes?”
You bite back a laugh. “You know she’s not actually our boss, right?”
“I can’t discount that possibility. She wields a concerning amount of power within the organization.”
Connie is back with your drinks—coffee for you and tea for Loki. “Sunday Special?” she asks Loki as she sets a metal teapot and empty mug in front of him.
“Please,” he says.
“You got it.” She looks at you. “Didya get a chance to look at the menu or do you need a minute?”
You’re feeling a little daring. “I’ll try the Sunday Special as well.”
“All right, two Sunday Specials comin’ right up,” she says, collecting your menus.
“So, what’s in a Sunday Special?” you ask Loki as you take a sip of your coffee.
“Boiled fish eggs, mainly,” he says, pouring the hot water into his tea mug.
“Liar,” you say promptly.
He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t even look at the menu, how could you know?”
“Places like this don’t serve fish eggs,” you say. “Way too unusual and definitely the wrong price point.”
“I suppose you’ll just have to see,” he says with a playful glint in his eyes. The easy charm that you’ve seen him use with the others is on full display and it’s enough to make you giddy. Maybe he doesn’t dislike you after all.
“Well, if it’s fish eggs, you’re picking up the bill,” you say, “and I’ll be getting something else instead.”
“You’d really hold me responsible for your impulsive dinner selections?”
“Yep. And I don’t even feel bad about it.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you could be so unforgiving.”
“Well, you don’t know me all that well.”
“To be fair, you keep to yourself quite a bit.”
“A little bit,” you say. “But also to be fair, you haven’t really asked.”
“On work time?” he says, widening his eyes in mock horror. “That would mean write ups for both of us, I couldn’t let that happen.”
“I think I know enough about you to know that getting in trouble is not one of your primary concerns.”
He gives you a sly smile, like you’ve caught him out and he likes it. “That’s a diplomatic way to put it.” He takes a sugar packet from the dispenser on the table and tears it open before pouring it into his mug. “Well, we’re on break now, so you can safely tell me something about yourself.”
You drum your fingers on your coffee mug. “What do you want to know?”
“Well, this can’t be the only part of your life. Who are you outside the TVA? What did you do before this?”
That giddy feeling comes to a screeching halt and you take in a long, slow breath. It’s a simple question, one that most people can answer to some degree. For you, though, it’s a bit more complicated.
“Well,” you say. You take a sip of your coffee, mostly to give your hands something to do. “I don’t actually know—I chose not to remember when they gave me the option.”
You’re surprised by how gentle his eyes are when you look up. “My apologies,” he says, “I didn’t realize.”
“It’s okay,” you say and you really do mean it. “You couldn’t have known.”
Usually, you say something like this and then gently redirect the conversation, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes you want to continue. Like maybe he understands difficult things and doesn’t mind hearing about something that others would shy away from.
“When they told us everything and said they could fix our memories…” You clear your throat and focus your gaze just above his shoulder. “It’s weird, but I just had a feeling that it wouldn’t be good for me to know…that something really bad had happened. So I asked Mobius to check for me, just to be sure…” You swallow, blinking hard.
You remember how sad Mobius’ eyes were, how he’d gently placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “I think you’re making the right call, kid.”
“It’s not really okay, is it?” Loki says softly.
You shrug. “I mean, it’s…it is what it is.”
“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”
“It’s not a lie—”
He raises a skeptical eyebrow and you remember that he is, in fact, the god of lies.
“It’s more like…I can’t really miss what I don’t know, but at the same time, the reality of that absence hurts a little. So maybe not exactly okay, but not exactly not okay, either.”
There’s a lot of kindness in his gaze and you have to look away because it makes your head spin and your breath catch in your throat. “I’m not really sure if that makes sense,” you say.
“It does.”
There’s a silence between you, but it’s not uncomfortable.
“Do you…do you think you’d want to forget if you had that option?” You’re not entirely sure what prompts the question and you regret it almost as soon as it leaves your mouth. “I’m sorry, that’s probably too personal.”
He shakes his head and there’s a warmth in his eyes that you don’t expect. “I rather think I owe you one.” He pauses, running a finger around the rim of his mug. “Sometimes I do,” he says finally. “It can be quite painful remembering.” He worries his lip between his teeth. “But I’m not sure who I would be without the knowledge of my past, either.” His gaze flicks back to you. “What’s it like for you? Do you feel like you know who you are without those memories?”
It’s a good question—one you’ve never been asked. “I mean, it’s hard to say for sure. I think I do,” you say. “Sometimes I wonder if I was different in my timeline. Maybe I was kinder because I had different experiences that made me more empathetic. Maybe I wasn’t—maybe I was worse. Maybe I had a villain arc.”
He chuckles. “That doesn’t seem likely.”
“I dunno, maybe it explains the vending machine coffee and my fish egg related threats,” you say and you feel almost giddy when he returns your smile. “Or maybe I’m the same and all those experiences that shaped me are just scars I can’t see.” You shrug and take a sip of your coffee. “At the end of the day, though, that timeline is gone. I’m all that’s left. It’s sad, but it’s also freeing, in a way.”
He nods. “Mobius has said much the same.”
You smile slightly. “Our philosophies are similar, I suppose, though I think there are probably more bits of his past self in his present self than he realizes.”
Loki grins. “It’s the jet skis, isn’t it?”
“I mean, I just don’t think most normal people spend that much time expounding on the reliability of the Yamaha engine versus the pure, raw power of the Kawasaki.”
Loki holds up a finger. “But have you gotten the lecture about Yamaha’s braking system?”
“I think I have that memorized at this point.”
“‘The perfect choice for families.’”
“‘You just tap the brakes. Just tap them. Perfectly smooth stop every time.’”
“‘Reliability meets affordability.’”
“‘You can’t say no to that.’”
You think you probably could have riffed on this for a bit, but you’re interrupted by the arrival of Connie with your dinner.
The Sunday Special turns out to be a fairly traditional breakfast—eggs, hash browns, two fluffy pancakes, sausage, toast, a little bowl of strawberries.
“Definitely lots of fish eggs in this meal,” you say to Loki after Connie leaves.
His smile is small, but genuine. “You haven’t looked under the pancakes yet.”
You feel it then, but you don’t fully understand until later that this dinner has unlocked something important between the two of you. After months of awkward, stilted conversation, it’s like you finally understand how to talk to each other. And you’re surprised to find that even outside of your big stupid crush, you actually like Loki. You like his sly smiles and his dry humor and how easily the two of you fall into a routine of playful banter. You click in a way that surprises you, in a way that makes you mourn the lost potential of all those awkward, stilted months and feel giddy about the possibilities ahead.
Dinner is over too soon and you walk back to the TVA feeling revived from the coffee and the conversation. 
Disaster awaits you back at the office, though: you’d left a stack of the Nero variant files on your desk and evidently the construction was too precarious, as the entire pile had tipped off your desk and spilled to the floor, contents scattered everywhere.
“Fucking hell,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. You’re not sure whether you want to laugh, cry, or scream. Possibly, it’s all three.
“Here.” Loki is bending down on the floor to gather the files. You studiously try to not ogle his ass or thighs. Or at least not obviously. “Clear off some space on your desk—I’ll help.”
Twenty minutes later, you’ve set up an entirely new system—Loki has dragged his chair over to your desk and the cart of unsorted files sits between you, like a surly metallic chaperone. And even later when you’ve sorted out all of the files from the floor, he remains parked at the end of your desk, a stack of new, unsorted files in front of him. Admittedly, it’s a lot more efficient for you to work like this: privately, though, it gives you a warm glow that has nothing to do with workplace efficiency.
“I’ve invented a new game,” he says some time later. 
“What’s that?”
“Every time either one of us finds documentation showing Renato Lucchese losing money on a racehorse he was told was not a good investment, I get to have a drink.”
You look up at him. “Look, I know you’re a god and everything, but I am pretty sure that will kill you.”
He sighs and tosses the file into the Lucchese pile. “I think it would add a little excitement to the evening, don’t you?”
You raise your eyebrows and look back at the file in front of you. “You mean this isn’t your idea of a fun Friday night?”
“My idea of a fun Friday night includes far fewer files and a lot more debauchery,” he says, taking a new file from the cart.
You glance at the clock. “Well, it’s only eleven. I don’t usually start body shots until after midnight.”
“What are body shots?”
For one horrifying moment, you think that you’re going to actually have to explain this to him, but then you get a good look at his expression.
He’s teasing you.
“You’re an ass,” you say, swatting him on the shoulder with the file you’re holding.
He wags a finger at you. “That’s workplace violence. I’m going to have to report that.”
You lean back in your chair and return to your file. “I’m pretty confident that you’ll be put off by the amount of paperwork that process requires.”
He shakes his head as he returns to his own file. “Uncontrolled bureaucracy is how bad actors escape accountability.” There’s a brief pause. “And…there’s another racehorse.”
You continue on like this for the rest of the evening, occasionally chatting and Loki proving definitively that the Renato Lucchese racehorse drinking game could not be played without resulting in a fatality. It’s nice, though. Yes, it’s sorting files and yes, it’s not the most intellectually riveting task you’ve ever done, but spending time with Loki is nice. It’s because of this that you find yourself trying to stay awake, pushing past your looming exhaustion.
But around two, you can’t quite fight the heaviness of your eyelids any longer and you doze off in the middle of a report on the sinking of the Lusitania.
“Hey.” Loki is gently shaking your shoulder. The way he says your name in that deliciously deep voice makes you want to swoon and you’re glad that you have the ready made excuse of sleepiness to explain any embarrassing behavior on your end.
“I think you’d better call it a night,” he says gently. “Get some sleep and come back with fresh eyes.”
“What about you?” you say. “Are you going to do the same, or are you just all talk?”
He smiles at you and it warms you to the very tips of your toes. You could bask in that smile like a cat in a sunbeam.
“I’m starting to fade a bit myself,” he says
“Very convenient,” you say and he grins at you.
“Come on, I’ll see you back home.”
Part of you wants to protest—there’s really no need for him to walk you home—but a larger, louder part of you wants to let it be, prolong the magic of tonight for just a little longer.
There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you as you walk out of the office together. 
“What time do you think you’re going to come in tomorrow?” he asks as you approach the residential wing. “It’s probably sensible to coordinate our efforts a bit.”
“Yeah, that’s a good point,” you say. “I was thinking nine, but that will be dependent on how much coffee I have.”
“Yes, about that,” he says. “I cannot stand idly by and watch you torture yourself with vending machine coffee.”
“Well, the cafeteria will be open, so I was going to torture myself with cafeteria coffee, which is at least thirty percent less over brewed.”
He clicks his tongue. “You’re not making a compelling case for yourself.”
“To be fair, it’s quite late and I’ve been staring at files for hours.”
“All the more reason to get decent coffee,” he says. “We’re going out for breakfast.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, we are?”
“Consider it an intervention,” he says. “I’ll come collect you at eight.”
You’re not quite sure if this is just his natural confidence and swagger coming through or if he’s flirting with you and this counts as a date.
“Where are we going?”
“I know a place.”
*
The place in question turns out to be a food cart in Central Park in 1998.
“Should I even bother asking if you have supervisor approval for this?” you say, looking skeptically at the time door glimmering before you.
Loki scoffs. “I don’t have a supervisor.”
“You do. It’s Mobius.”
“That can’t be right, we’re peers.”
“You’re absolutely not. Did you read any of the onboarding materials?”
He ignores your question. “I don’t see why I’d even need a supervisor, honestly.”
You snort. “Need I remind you of what happened at the Nixon inauguration?”
He spreads his hands in front of him. “It’s not my fault that I’m the only one with a sense of humor.”
“I’m not entirely sure that was the problem,” you say. “Gerald Ford is never going to be the same, from what I understand.”
Loki waves a dismissive hand. “He’ll be fine, the tail isn’t permanent. Now, are you coming or not?”
You roll your eyes at him and make a halfhearted complaint about proper protocol, but you know that you’re walking through that time door and not looking back. You knew that before he even posed the question.
The food cart is owned by a man named Samir who has a wide smile and booming laugh. He talks to Loki like he’s a friend and he tells you that you have the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. You are fairly certain he’s exaggerating, but you stuff a few extra bills into the tip jar anyway.
“I can’t believe you fell for that,” says Loki as you walk away, each carrying a coffee and a brown paper bag with a breakfast sandwich.
“Fell for what?” you say, batting your eyes at him. “I do have beautiful eyes.”
“I’ve heard him say that on at least thirty separate occasions.”
“Yeah, but this time he really meant it. I could tell.”
He rolls his eyes and leads you to a park bench overlooking a wide, grassy field. The leaves are just starting to change and the air has a little bit of a bite to it. 
You sit down on the bench and take a sip of your coffee.
“It is good coffee, I’ll give you that,” you say.
“See,” says Loki, “you can’t go back to that vending machine sludge after this.”
“I mean, if it’s eleven o’clock at night and I’m on a deadline, I can.”
“Darling. You have a TemPad.”
“Loki. Read the personnel manual.”
He wrinkles his nose. “It’s not really my genre.”
You roll your eyes and take out your breakfast sandwich. “What is your genre?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Is that a serious question?”
“Of course it is,” you say. “I love talking about books.”
He gives you a slight smile and takes a sip of his coffee. “A little bit of everything, honestly,” he says. “Philosophy. Magical theory. History. Politics. Anything from Asgard, really, though it can be a bit more challenging getting some of those titles.”
“I’ve had pretty good luck with the Library of the Sacred Timeline—have you checked there yet?”
He frowns. “I’m not familiar.”
“Oh, you’d like it—it’s on the eighteenth floor. It’s intended to be a collection of the greatest works of literature from as many branches of the timeline as possible,” you say. “It started as a research project, but people liked it and it just kind of evolved into this huge collection. They’ve actually got a pretty sizeable collection of books from Asgard.”
It’s like you’ve told him that his personal paradise had been located on the eighteenth floor this entire time. “Will you show me?”
He is practically vibrating with the sort of anticipatory, manic energy that you typically would associate with Christmas morning right before you tear into presents. It’s sweetly endearing.
“Of course.”
Ten minutes later, you’re leading him through the winding hallways on the eighteenth floor. You’re not surprised he hasn’t heard about the library—it’s a bit out of the way and the eighteenth floor is so poorly designed that it’s not terribly easy to find.
The design of the library is a sharp departure from the rest of the TVA. The shelves and floors are made of the kind of dark mahogany that you typically see in the kind of estates that look like something directly out of a Jane Austen novel. Worn oriental rugs muffle your footsteps on the creaky wood floors and the air smells faintly of dust and paper.
There’s a subtle change in Loki when you walk through the doors—almost like a muscle in his shoulders finally relaxes and he seems truly at home for the first time since he arrived.
You touch his hand. “This way.”
You lead him into the stacks, back to the far corner, right after the books from Alfheim.
“You can borrow whichever ones you like,” you say softly. “There’s a sign out sheet at the front desk.”
He nods, though you don’t think he really hears you—he only has eyes for the shelves, his gaze sweeping across the spines like they’re old friends. You’re about to excuse yourself to give him a little privacy when his brow furrows and he exhales sharply. “Oh, you can’t be serious.”
“What is it?”
They have the entirety of the finest Asgardian literature at their disposal. Untold centuries of the writings of our greatest minds—” he plucks a book off the shelf, “—and they choose to include this?”
The title looks fairly innocuous—a red, leather bound book with the title The Cloistered Heart embossed in gold script on the front. You take the book from him and open it. “What’s the problem with this?”
“It’s inconsequential fluff, literary pablum of the highest order.”
This is the Loki that you’re more familiar with and a smile curls at your lips. Almost on cue, you flip the book open to a chapter titled “The Wedding and Bedding of Aloisa.”
You bite back a laugh and look up at him. “It’s a romance novel.”
“Precisely my point,” he says. “To think that this is on the same shelf as Nielsen and Auber.”
“That’s kind of how libraries work,” you say, flipping further into the book. The phrases “throbbing length” and “eager moans” draw your eye and you have to tamp down another laugh. “Oh, and it’s a sexy romance novel.”
“It appeals to the lowest common denominator, yes.”
“What, so you’re too good for a bodice ripper?”
He scoffs. “I prefer to do the bodice ripping myself, not read some overwrought description of it.”
You are glad you’re looking at the book because you’re pretty sure you’d disintegrate if you had to make eye contact with him while he delivered that line. “Oh spare me,” you say lightly, snapping the book shut and drawing it to your chest. “I’m gonna read this.”
He blows out a puff of air. “It’s a waste of your time.”
“I’ve got lots of time, I can afford to waste it,” you say cheekily. “Besides, I’m curious to see what kind of book turns the god of mischief into a pearl clutching prude.”
Loki sputters. “Prude? Darling, let me assure you, I’m no prude—”
“I’ll leave you to browse,” you say with a grin as you turn away from him. “Come find me at the front when you’re ready to go.”
You’re a few chapters into the book when Loki rejoins you at the front of the library, a small stack of books tucked under his arm.
You close your book with a snap. “This book is a delight. I think your real issue is just that you’re no fun.”
He scoffs. “I’m very fun.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
You bicker playfully back and forth as you check out your books and leave the library. A quick glance at your watch tells you that you spent much more time there than you’d planned. You can’t quite bring yourself to worry about that, though, not with the memory of Loki’s wonderstruck expression burning so bright in your mind.
There’s a bit of a lull in the conversation as you wait for the elevator.
“Thank you,” he says softly.
“For what?”
“For showing me that.”
“Of course. I’m sorry you didn’t know about it sooner.”
He looks at you, lips parting slightly like he’s about to say something. His tongue swipes briefly over his bottom lip and you would swear that his gaze drops to your mouth for just a second.
For just a second—one heady, slightly irrational second—you think he might be about to kiss you.
The ding of the elevator arriving breaks the spell, startling you just a little. You run a hand through your hair, trying to give off the impression of composure even as your heart beats wildly in your chest.
Loki gestures to the elevator doors. “After you.”
There is a group of analysts in the elevator already, chatting animatedly and completely obliterating any chance you may have had at recapturing that moment.
You try not to dwell too much in contemplating what ifs or timeline branches—often, it feels too much like work, something Mobius might assign you.
But you know that the possibility of that moment—what if the elevator had been a hair slower, what if those analysts had taken a different route, what if you were braver—you know that’s something that’s going to haunt you for a while.
*
You wouldn’t give up that time in the library for anything—it’s one of those moments that feels formative, something that you’ll return to again and again for one reason or another.
But it’s also true that it’s time that you probably could have used for sorting files and as Saturday ticks on, you can’t help but wish you had a way to pull another hour out of somewhere.
“We’re not going to be able to make this deadline, are we?” you say with a sigh.
It’s getting late into the evening and the cart of files still to be sorted still remains depressingly full, despite the fact that you’d brought both lunch and dinner back to your desk so you could continue working.
Loki eyes the remaining files. “I think we might. We made good progress today.”
You rub your eyes. “My brain feels like it’s about to leak out my ears.”
Loki takes the file you are working on and sets it back in the stack of unsorted files. “I think that might be a sign it’s time to turn in,” he says.
“There’s still so much left.”
“There’s still tomorrow.”
You reach for the file. “Well, let me just—”
He pulls your hand away from the pile. “You can come back to it in the morning. Besides, if you’re this tired, you’re not going to do good work anyway.”
He squeezes your hand and drops it. It’s brief enough to still be friendly, but unusual enough to make you wonder and send your mind racing back to that moment by the elevator.
You shake the thought away. It’s late and you’re tired.
You heave a world weary sigh and slump back in your chair. “I hate it when you’re right.”
To his credit, he only smirks a little. “Come on. I’ll walk you back.”
Once again, there’s no reason for him to do this, but once again, you’re inclined to let him.
You pack up for the evening and walk out of the office side by side. You’re trying very hard not to think about the fact that this is likely the last night that you’ll do this, that tomorrow the assignment will be over.
As you near the residential wing, you start to hear distant shouts. If you inhale deeply, you catch a very faint whiff of explosives—you’re not sure what kind.
“I think someone brought work home,” you say with a sigh. 
This happens from time to time—things get out of hand in the field or something happens when retrieving an asset or a target and all hell breaks loose at the TVA. Mobius had once referred to it as “bringing work home” and the name had stuck.
“Wasn’t there an incident in this wing not long ago?” asks Loki.
“Yes.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I had to call off the next day—I got no sleep that night.” You listen carefully, trying to determine the source of the noise and the status of the problem. “But maybe it’s almost over,” you say with an optimism you don’t fully feel. “Sometimes these things are resolved really quick.”
Your heart continues to sink the closer you come to your home. The acrid burn of explosives only increases and you think you catch the low, dull roar of something not quite human.
And indeed, when you turn the final corner, you are immediately stopped by an electric blue barrier being monitored by a hunter. G-21–you’ve worked with her on a couple of missions before.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” slips out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.
“There’s an ongoing incident in this area,” says G-21 and you almost want to laugh because no shit. 
“How long do you think it’s gonna be closed off?” you ask.
She shrugs. “We’re at a code 54 right now, but it’s probably gonna escalate.”
With pitch perfect timing and before you can even try to remember what a code 54 means, there’s an almighty crash and a low bellow.
“Go!” she yells before running toward the commotion amid frantic calls for backup.
Loki is grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a run.
Your standard issue work shoes are comfortable enough on a day to day basis, but you certainly want to have words with whoever decided that leather soled shoes with absolutely no grips were a good choice for a building floored almost entirely in linoleum. In a low stakes situation, it’s meant occasionally you wipe out in the cafeteria and hurt nothing but your pride. In this situation, it means that Loki’s firm grip on your hand is the only thing keeping you upright.
But there’s a small mercy in that while you can still hear distant crashes and shrieks, whatever is happening down that hallway doesn’t seem to be following you and eventually, you both slow to a brisk walk and Loki drops your hand.
You haven’t even had a chance to consider where you are going to sleep tonight. You could probably curl up on that terrible couch in the office and just plan on getting up early enough to run back to your place for a quick shower and a change of clothes…assuming the incident resolves by then—
“You can stay with me,” says Loki, as though he can hear you trying to sort this out.
“Oh, that’s okay, I’ll just—”
“If you say you’re going to sleep on that terrible couch in the office, I will personally take you to the most boring governmental proceeding I can find and leave you there until you come to your senses.”
“Sounds like a great place to fall asleep,” you say.
His eyes glint, but his tone brooks no arguments. “You’re staying with me tonight.”
You sigh, but you can’t think of a counterpoint. “When did you get so bossy?”
“Darling, I’m a prince,” he says with a bit of a wry smirk. “It’s my birthright.”
Loki lives on the opposite end of the residential wing and his place looks quite a bit like yours—he’s got an extra window in the kitchen but the floor plan is otherwise the same. A lot of his furniture is standard issue, but there are little details that make it seem more personal: an area rug with a bit of fraying on the edges, a painting of what you think is an Asgardian landscape, a vase filled with dried flowers so delicate they look like they might disintegrate if you were to touch them. And books—so many books. Books on shelves, stacked on the coffee table, tucked into the little rack that you know is meant to hold magazines. Hardbacks, paperbacks, leather bound, dog-eared, well-worn and brand new. It’s no wonder he was so excited about the library.
“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the couch. “I’ll get some things for you.”
You sit down and he disappears down the hall. You idly examine the books stacked on the end table next to you. Many are quite clearly from Asgard and it sparks a pang of sympathy—it’s like his homesickness is on full display in his living room and there’s something sweet and sad about seeing that vulnerability laid so bare.
He returns a few minutes later with a pair of pajamas, a toothbrush, and a hand towel.
“Here,” he says, handing you the pile. “Bathroom’s just down the hall. I’ll make up a bed for you.”
“Thanks.”
In the bathroom, you realize that the pajamas he’s given you aren’t the standard set you can order from the TVA. These are made of a dark emerald silk that ripples over your skin like water, and somehow, that makes it feel a thousand times more personal than if he’d loaned you a standard set. They don’t fit quite right on you, but they’ll work well enough for tonight.
You brush your teeth and attempt to get through as much of your evening routine as you can before collecting your clothes and exiting the bathroom.
When you return to the living room, you expect to find that he’s made up a bed for you on the couch. These living units only have one bedroom—it would be quite reasonable to have you sleep on the couch.
You do not expect to find a pajama clad Loki stretched out reading on the couch, a blanket over his lap and his head propped up on a pillow like he intends to sleep there.
You exhale slowly. “Please tell me you are not giving up your bed.”
“Don’t be absurd, of course I am,” he says without even looking up from his book. “The point of this was to prevent you from sleeping on a couch, not simply put you on a couch in a different location.”
You wish you had something to throw at him. “You don’t even fit on that couch.”
“Luckily, my knees bend. Besides, you’re a guest,” he says, as though that settles it.
You roll your eyes and plunk yourself down in the armchair across from the couch, setting your pile of clothes on the floor. “I’m not moving until you give up the couch.”
He finally looks up from his book. “You’re really going to do this?”
You examine your fingernails, flicking away an invisible speck of dust. “I’m not the one being unreasonable. I’m simply meeting you at your level.”
“If you think that I’m being unreasonable and you’re also saying you’re meeting me at my level, does that not mean you are admitting that you are being unreasonable?”
“It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning. I’m not arguing semantics with you.”
“Fine.” His eyes glimmer as he sets his book down and slowly rises to his feet. “But you’re still not sleeping on the couch.”
“Oh, you’re going to be so disappointed when you realize how wrong you are,” you say. You think you see your opening and you try to play it cool.
He’s walking toward you, leaving your path to the couch wide open. In your head, you can see exactly how this works: you’ll spring from your chair and dart around the coffee table before diving onto the couch like a baseball player sliding into home plate, soundly defeating Loki. Easy peasy.
Instead, what happens is that you spring to your feet and Loki moves with inhuman speed, grabbing you around your waist and pinning you to the front of his chest, stopping you in your tracks almost immediately.
“I suppose I should have expected that,” he says. Your back is facing him, but you can almost hear the dry, sardonic look he’s giving you.
“Probably,” you say. “God of mischief and all.” You struggle fruitlessly against his iron grip. “You can let me go now.”
He laughs. “I’m afraid I can’t. It was clearly a mistake to trust you. I won’t be making that error again.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, trying again to squirm away from him. “Let me go.”
“The interesting thing about all of this is that you’ve made a rather substantial tactical error,” he says, continuing as though he can’t hear you.
“You’re bluffing,” you say with more confidence than you feel.
“Fascinating theory,” he says, “but I don’t think it’s going to work out for you.”
With that same ridiculous speed, he’s suddenly spinning you around and lifting you, tossing you easily over his shoulder.
“Hey!” you shout in protest.
“I warned you,” he says, his voice full of mirth as he carries you toward the bedroom.
This is not exactly how you’ve imagined being carried off to bed by Loki.
Though, admittedly, you do have a nice view of his ass.
“This is ridiculous,” you say.
“You brought this upon yourself.” He’s walking into the bedroom and a moment later, he’s lifting you from his shoulder and tossing you unceremoniously onto his bed.
You scramble to your feet and try to lunge toward the door, but he’s clearly expecting that. Before your feet even hit the floor, he catches you around the waist and hauls you back to the bed. Your back hits the mattress and you try to leverage the momentum to propel yourself back onto your feet.
He catches you immediately and you find yourself back on the bed again.
“I don’t mean to be patronizing,” he says, failing to bite back a laugh, “but it’s adorable that you think you can outmaneuver me.”
That is deeply offensive and the only way you can earn my forgiveness is by letting me take my rightful place on the couch.” You can’t quite keep the laugh from your voice.
He grins. “Not a chance.”
You attempt to dive off the opposite side of the bed, only to have him grab you by the ankles and pull you back. You manage to dislodge him and lunge in the opposite direction, only to be immediately thwarted.
It becomes increasingly hilarious the longer it goes on and soon your sides are aching from laughter. Loki is laughing too, but it doesn’t seem to affect his strength or speed at all.
Eventually, he wrestles you back down onto the bed and you are fairly certain there’s no way out of this one—he’s got your wrists pinned above your head and his legs locked around yours. You’re both a little out of breath.
“Yield,” he says.
You shake your head. “Never.”
His gaze flicks to your lips and back to your eyes. “Yield.”
“No.”
Something has changed. There’s an electricity and intensity that crackles in the air between you, possibilities blooming in both of your gazes. It feels a little like that moment by the elevator, but you’re afraid to hope, afraid to even wish because the idea of him wanting you still feels as impossible as capturing smoke with a net. 
But the way he’s looking at you, the way his gaze keeps drifting between your eyes and your lips…that’s not nothing.
“Yield.”
You lick your lips, your heart beating wildly. “No.”
Is it just your imagination, or did his breath hitch when you licked your lips?
“Yield.”
God, he’s so close and you want him so badly. 
“No.”
He looks again at your lips and this time, he closes the distance between you.
They call him Silvertongue—you’ve heard the jokes, you’ve rolled your eyes at all of them. But as he kisses you, you realize that there’s an element of truth there because only seconds in and you’re ready to sign away your soul to live under the power of Loki’s tongue. The slow, warm slide of it against yours, the way he guides your mouth against his, the way he lets out a soft sigh as he tastes you—you would give up everything if it meant you could stay like this.
“Yield,” he breathes against your lips.
“No,” you say.
He deepens the kiss, catching your lower lip between his teeth and gently tugging until you whimper and arch against him.
He still has your hands pinned against the bed, his grip unyielding when you try to wrestle them away.
“Let me touch you,” you say when he draws back. You want to touch him everywhere—run your hands along every muscle you’ve admired from afar. 
“Then yield,” he says with a grin, his eyes flashing with devilish intent.
You consider this for a moment. You could give in—there aren’t really any stakes at this point and you’re pretty sure you’re both going to end up sleeping in his bed tonight anyway. But that glint of mischief in his eyes also promises some intriguing possibilities if you stand firm.
“No,” you say.
“Such a pity,” says Loki, though his expression is one of hungry delight.
His hands slip free of your wrists then, but they stay pinned to the bed by some invisible force.
“Cheater,” you say. 
“I think this is only fair,” he says, his hands sliding to your hips. “I’m clearly the victor, am I not entitled to my prize?”
You shiver. “Your prize?”
“Yes.” He kisses down the column of your throat. “My lovely, lovely prize.”
“How can I be your prize if I’m also your competitor?”
“You think too much,” he mumbles against your neck.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Generally, it’s not.” He sits back on his heels between your legs, looking you over with satisfaction. “But in this case, it’s distracting you from more pressing matters.” His hands creep under the hem of your shirt, stroking the small of your back, thumbs tracing teasingly along the waistband of your pajama pants. 
“Have I mentioned how much I enjoy seeing you in my clothes?” he asks. There’s a husky depth to his voice and a hunger in his eyes that sends a flood of arousal to your cunt.
“You have not,” you say.
“A casualty of too much thinking,” he says solemnly, his thumbs gently grazing the skin at your hipbones. “You look utterly delectable. I almost want to leave them on.” His eyes glitter with mischief. “Almost.” His hand strays to the bottom button on your pajama top. “May I?”
You nod. “Yes.”
He slips the button free and slowly makes his way up until your shirt is open. He carefully pushes the fabric aside, baring your breasts to his sight and touch.
You’ve never felt more beautiful seeing Loki stare at you, lips slightly parted, eyes wide and hungry. He trails one hand up your stomach and rib cage and slowly brushes a thumb over your nipple. You gasp and the sensitive skin puckers and stiffens as he palms your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
“Gorgeous,” he murmurs as he lowers his mouth to your breast, his tongue and lips taking up the role of his hand, while his other hand moves to cup your other breast. You whimper, wishing you could run your hands through his hair. “That’s it,” he purrs, “I want to hear all the sounds you can make, my love.”
You rock your hips forward and arch your back as he lavishes attention on your breasts. It’s the most delicious kind of torture, having him so close, but not being able to touch him.
He’s taking his time, which you both love and hate. He feels so good, but you need him to touch you, you need to touch him, you need him inside of you. You wait until you can’t take it any more and breathe his name like it’s a prayer.
You wonder if this is what he was waiting for because with little more than a brief smirk and a wicked look, he starts kissing his way back up your chest and neck. You whimper when his lips meet yours and you can feel him grin as he kisses you. He fits his hips against yours, angling himself so that his cock rubs up against your clit just right and you moan into his mouth. You can tell that he’s big and part of you wants to savor the anticipation even though you feel like you might go mad if he doesn’t fuck you now. You rock your hips against him, trying to feel that friction.
His large hands frame your face, one hand sliding to cradle the back of your head so he can draw you deeper, the other trailing from your cheek to your throat.
Both hands soon stroke down your sides, lingering teasingly at the waistband of your pajama pants. He hooks his thumbs underneath the waistband and you lift your hips. He slides your pants down maybe an inch and you can feel him smiling as he kisses you. You lift your hips again and your waistband creeps down another inch.
“Loki.” His name falls from your lips with a sigh.
“What is it, my love?”
“Touch me,” you breathe. “Please.”
You lift your hips again and this time, he pulls the fabric fully down and off your legs. He guides your legs apart and stares appreciatively at your bare cunt, his teasing expression replaced by a rapt awe.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs. 
You believe him.
His hands stroke your thighs, seemingly in no hurry, despite your pleading whimpers and the way you arch against the mattress. He draws his thumb gently along your slit, barely grazing your clit.
“Do you know what an utter distraction it’s been sitting behind you?” he asks, tracing your clit in the slowest, lightest circle.
You arch upward, hands still bound by his magic. “Tell me,” you breathe, your hips rising to chase his hand.
“Every time you stood up, I could only think about bending you over the desk.”
You manage a sly smirk. “And here I thought you didn’t like me much at all.”
His thumb presses a little more against your clit and you moan.
“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you,” he says, rolling his thumb in a slow circle. “I kept you at arm’s length partly as a matter of protection.”
For who?”
“You,” he says. “I’m not fully redeemed in some eyes and you being involved with a dangerous variant—”
“You’re not,” you say.
“Some would disagree.”
“Well, they’re wrong,” you say. “You’re not a dangerous variant. You’re Loki Laufeyson and I want you just as you are.”
There’s something unreadable in his expression and it makes you wonder how many people have told him that he can just be himself.
“You should be careful saying such lovely things to me, you know,” he says solemnly.
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh really? And why is that?”
“Because it makes me want to do very wicked things to you.”
You’re surprised you’re not shaking, you want him so badly. “What kinds of wicked things?”
“Oh, all manner of wicked things.” He presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, his tongue swiping briefly against your skin. “Things with my mouth...” His thumb rolls over your clit again, his index finger teasing your entrance before retreating. “…my hands…” He drags his gaze over your naked form before locking eyes with you. “My cock.”
A shiver works its way up your spine. “So if I talk about how I think you’re really clever and funny and I find it unbelievably sexy, what sort of wicked thing would that merit?”
The intensity of his gaze makes you shiver again. He crouches down and presses another kiss against the inside of your knee, slowly moving upward. “If you keep talking like that, I’m not going to let you leave my bed for days.”
“You know that’s not a disincentive, right?” you say, sucking in a sharp breath as he nips at the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I’ve wanted you for such a long time, Loki.”
“I’ll make it weeks if you’re not careful.”
“Again, not a disincentive.” You gently tug at your bound wrists and find that they’re still firmly secured. It’s exhilarating, even though you really wish you could run your hands through his hair, especially if he ends up where you think he’s going.
“What else should I tell you?” you muse as he continues his agonizingly slow path along your thigh. “You know, half the reason I kept to myself was that I wanted you so much I was certain that I’d make a fool of myself.”
That earns you a few circles of your clit with his thumb, but his progress up your thigh remains slow. You have a theory about what might move the needle, though.
“I know you like to act like you’re this sort of barely reformed villain, but I think there’s more good in you than you’d like people to believe.”
This time, he moves up to the crease where your thigh joins your hip, close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath ghosting along your labia. His tongue traces a line along your skin and you briefly wonder if you’ll be able to hold it together enough to deliver the last part.
“And,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “yesterday and today made me want you even more because I feel like I finally saw who you really are and you’re even more wond—”
Your words abruptly give way to a breathy moan because his perfect, skilled tongue has finally found its way to your clit.
You had a plan from here, but whatever it was has dissolved into nothing under the skilled caress of Loki’s tongue. You suspected he would be good at this from the way that he’d kissed you earlier, but you could not have imagined that it would feel like this.
“Oh my god, Loki.” Your thighs are already quaking. You tug again at the invisible bonds on your wrists, but they hold fast. Something about the way the bonds are keeping you gently stretched along the bed combined with how his large hands have your thighs spread open seems to heighten every sensation. There’s no wiggling away from him or adjusting yourself so that you feel more or less of the onslaught of his tongue on your cunt. You are completely at his mercy and you’re not entirely surprised that you fucking love it.
He slides a finger into your aching channel and your cunt shudders around the thick intrusion. The warm, roiling center of your orgasm starts builds in your hips with every stroke of his tongue, spinning faster and faster, like ocean winds whipping up into a hurricane. Your back arches and his tongue presses flat against your clit, and suddenly you know that this is going to be what takes you over the edge.
Loki seems to know it too, at least from the way that he presses his tongue more firmly against you, one arm slung across your hips to hold you in place. His other hand slides two fingers inside you, rocking and curling against that aching, tender spot.
You whimper, your hips bucking wildly. It’s so good and so much and you are almost there.
You look down at him then, his hair wild, hollowed cheeks flushed pink as his tongue works you over, his eyes closed like he couldn’t imagine anything more blissful than being in between your legs while you come undone.
This is ultimately what tips you over the edge. The storm that has been forming inside you is finally let loose and you arch your back and cry out in a wordless scream as your climax crashes into you.
Only then do the bonds around your wrists release and your hands fly down to grab his hair as your body shakes with pleasure.
It takes a moment for you to get your breath back and reacquaint yourself with the concept of speech, but when you do, you find Loki looking up at you, his expression pure mischief.
“And to think you wanted to sleep on the couch.”
“It wasn’t that I wanted to sleep on the couch, it’s that—” Your voice cuts off as his tongue starts stroking your clit again.
“It’s what?” he asks in between strokes, his smirk obvious in his voice. The lingering ripples of your orgasm are coalescing around the path of his tongue, tightening that coil in your belly again.
“Fuck—you’re not playing fair, you can’t just—” You lose your sentence to a low moan that rises up from your chest. “You can’t just—fuck, yes—you can’t…oh god, yes, just like that.”
His laughter rumbles against you as your hips start rocking against his mouth. How are you already so close?
“You can’t just—fuck—win an argument by—”
You’re trying to say that he can’t expect to win an argument by making you come and you think he might understand this based on how determined he seems to be to prove you wrong. His fingers curl again until he finds that soft, tender spot that is so often the key to your unraveling.
You have stopped trying to complete that sentence—you moan, your hands tangling in his hair, urging him on as the swell of your climax rushes up, inevitable as a tidal wave looming over a seaside village.
You cry out as it crests and breaks, falling down over you in a rush of tingling pleasure that feels like champagne and fireworks all at once.
“Now, what was it you were saying, my love?” he asks as he releases your clit a moment later. “Something about how I can’t just win an argument by making you come? I couldn’t quite hear you over the sound of you coming completely undone on my tongue.”
“Oh, you think you’re so smart,” you say, giving him a stern look as he crawls up your body.
“You know what I think?” he says, settling himself on his side next to you. “I think you liked submitting to me.”
You shiver before you can even think about hiding it and his smile turns decidedly vulpine. 
“You did, didn’t you? You liked having your hands bound and being completely at my mercy while I licked your pretty cunt until you came undone in my mouth.”
“You are enjoying this far too much,” you say.
“I am enjoying it the correct amount.”
You realize your hands are now free to explore his body and you tug at his pajama shirt. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes,” you say.
He gives you a wicked grin as he lets you pull his shirt over his head. “Yes, perhaps it’s time we even things up.”
You pull the shirt away and rake your eyes over him greedily, your hands following the path of your gaze. He is as perfect as you imagined, unfairly beautiful in the dim light of the bedroom.
You hook your thumbs into the waistband of his pajama pants and lower them an inch, a cheeky parallel of how he teased you earlier. His lips curl into a sharp smile when he realizes what you’re doing.
“Interesting strategy.” There’s a bit of a growl in his voice, a rough desperation that makes your cunt clench. “But I think you forgot that I have the upper hand here.”
He raises his hand and with a twist of his wrist, his remaining clothes dissolve in a shimmer of green and he is bare before you.
Your breath catches in your throat. His cock commands your immediate attention, nudging up against your thigh—he’s big, as you suspected, but completely bare and rock hard, he somehow seems longer and thicker than he had when he was grinding against you.
He pulls you into a slow kiss as you reach for his cock. You wrap your hand around him, delighting in the silky hardness of him, the way he throbs in your hand and the low groan he makes as your hand moves from base to tip and back, the way his hips thrust along with you. Your cunt clenches in anticipation.
After a moment, though, he places his hand over yours, slowing your movements.
“I need to be inside you,” he rasps.
“Yes,” you breathe.
He rolls on top of you  and you’re not sure that you’ve ever felt anything quite as wonderful as the heat of his bare skin and yours pressed together. This feeling means intimacy, a closeness that you’d longed for but never expected even in your wildest daydreams.
He pulls you into a kiss, slow, soft, and languid, like you have all the time in the world and he intends to take it. It’s decadent and dreamy and perfect.
But the heavy weight of his bare cock resting against your stomach combined with the ache between your legs—an ache that would be so perfectly soothed by the hard column of flesh currently throbbing against you—proves to be a force too powerful to resist for very long.
You cant your hips against him, snaking one leg around his waist, hoping he’ll get the hint.
He does.
He braces himself on one hand, the other sliding between your bodies to rub his cock along your slick folds. He positions himself at your entrance, waiting for your breathy plea to begin to ease himself slowly into you.
He fills and stretches you in the most wonderful way, but even more than that, he feels like home. The thought strikes you quite suddenly and you’re not entirely sure about everything it means, but you know it’s good and right.
He pauses for just a moment, seeming to savor the feeling.
“You feel better than I ever imagined,” he says.
You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You imagined?”
He gives you a hungry smile as he leans in to kiss you. “Like I said: it has been an utter distraction sitting behind you.”
His rhythm is slow and easy, like he wants to take his time learning every inch of you and memorizing how you react to his touch. His mouth moves over yours in a slow kiss that’s somehow both languid and demanding, his tongue gliding in and out of your mouth in the same rhythm of his hips rocking into you. His cock bumps up against that sweet spot inside of you that his fingers had teased earlier, each stroke inching you closer to bliss.
He shifts the angle of his hips so that his pubic bone grinds against your clit and it feels so good you almost see stars. You can feel your orgasm building, your cunt growing slicker and tensing around his thrusting cock.
He draws back to look at you, eyes hazy with a loose, dreamy kind of pleasure.
“Do you have any idea how good you feel?” he breathes.
You are shaking. “Loki, I’m gonna come.”
“I know you are,” he purrs. “Let go for me, let me feel you, my love.”
With two more thrusts of his hips, you unravel.
He groans as you tremble around him, but mostly, he watches your face, rapt by the way you throw your head back against the bed and gasp his name like it’s the only thing that will save you.
“You’re beautiful when you come,” he breathes. “Absolutely stunning.”
He waits until you catch your breath before he kisses you again, slow and sensual. His hips are still rocking in that beautifully slow rhythm and you don’t know how it can still feel so good.
He keeps moving against you, his touch and his low murmurs of praise invoking a symphony of sensations. He presses deeper and your body sings with every thrust, your muscles tensing and tightening around him like you never want him to leave. Your climax swells again and you come with a whimper, your whole body shaking as he fucks you through it.
You want him to come, want to hear the sounds he makes and feel his sweet, hot release burning inside of you.
“I want you to come for me,” you breathe.
He grins at you. “Oh, I will, but not yet. You’re not done yet.”
You whimper. “Loki—”
“Two more, my love, two more and then I’ll come for you.”
Somehow, you give him three. By the second one, he’s panting and his words have become rough, his voice a growl as he utters some of the filthiest praise you’ve ever heard. The third builds quickly after that and you know instinctively that you’re going to take him over the edge with you this time.
You fight to keep your eyes open against the tidal wave of pleasure blooming again in your hips. You need to see him come undone.
As in everything else he does, he’s unfairly beautiful—he throws his head back, letting out a low groan that you can feel all the way to the tips of your toes. His cheeks are flushed, a few ink dark curls plastered to the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. You can feel him emptying himself inside you, his release hot and hard won.
It seems to last a long time and it’s another minute before his hips slow to a halt. He kisses you, so soft and sweet it would almost seem chaste were it not for the fact that his cock is still throbbing inside of you.
After a moment, he slowly eases out of you, rolling over onto his back, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you to him like he can’t bear to be parted from you even for a moment.
You curl up against his side, your legs tangling with his. He takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours before resting your clasped hands on his heart.
You could fall in love like this, you think sleepily to yourself.
You don’t know it then, but you’re right.
*
Time moves differently at the TVA, but a couple years later, there’s a ring in a box on your desk.
Loki likes a spectacle and you’d daydreamed about a traditional wedding, but when you talk it over, you both agree that you want to do something different, something quiet, something just for the two of you.
“I do think we should tell Mobius beforehand,” you say to Loki.
“Isn’t the point of eloping that no one knows until after it’s done?” says Loki.
“Yes, but I feel like we could make one exception,” you say. “If we’d done a full wedding, I would have asked him to give me away.”
Loki’s gaze softens a bit then and he pulls you close. “All right. But we only tell him right before we leave. The man can’t keep a secret.”
But Mobius doesn’t seem terribly surprised when you tell him—in fact, he seems far more concerned about your wedding gift.
“I didn’t have a chance to wrap it yet,” he says. He’s retrieved a large picture frame that had been propped against his desk, though he keeps it turned away from you. “So…this also requires a bit of an overdue confession for context.”
You raise your eyebrows. “A confession?”
“A confession,” says Mobius.
“Will I be angry about this?” asks Loki at the same time you say, “Is this like a go to jail confession or a misdemeanor confession?”
Mobius gives a good natured chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “God, the two of you. Always so dramatic. No wonder you ended up together.” He takes what feels like an unnecessarily long drink from the coffee mug on his desk. “It’s not bad, I promise.” Another sip of coffee. 
Loki sighs. “He always does this,” he says to you. “Have you noticed? Whenever he has something that you want to know, he stalls and drags it out just to torment you.”
“Okay,” you say, “but you jumping in to bicker with him probably doesn’t help.”
“I’m not bickering,” says Loki. “I’m simply pointing out that he’s stalling—”
“What was it you were saying, Mobius?” you say brightly, nudging Loki with your elbow.
Mobius’ eyes twinkle. “See,” he says to Loki, “I always liked her. It’s a good match.”
You don’t have to look at Loki to know he’s rolling his eyes, though he also makes a point of surreptitiously pinching your ass, a detail you hope Mobius doesn’t notice.
“Anyway,” says Mobius, taking a deep breath, “it was pretty clear to me from the start that you liked each other. And you also seemed absolutely determined to get in your own way.” He points to Loki. “Especially you with your whole stilted Asgardian prince thing.”
Loki frowns. “What are you talking about?”
Mobius sighs. “Anytime you like someone, it’s like your brain gets a factory reset and you get all overly polite and courtly.”
Loki scoffs. “I don’t do that at all.”
“You do. It’s deeply weird. You’re like a mannerly robot.”
Loki turns to you. “Darling, tell him he’s being absurd.”
You reach over and squeeze his hand. “You did call me ‘my lady’ a couple of times in the early days.”
Loki sighs and looks back at Mobius. “What was your point in mentioning this?”
“Well,” says Mobius, “you seemed pretty determined to get in your own way, so nothing was happening. And eventually I got sick of all of the pining, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.”
“What do you mean?”
Mobius pauses, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “There wasn’t a breakthrough with Berlitz that weekend. What there was was a surplus in the overtime budget and a high priority indexing project for Archives.”
Your lips part as your brain slowly puts the pieces together. Mobius’ eyes twinkle.
“Wait,” you say, “you lied to us?”
“I did not lie,” says Mobius, his demeanor suddenly becoming very serious. “That would have been wrong.” He nods at Loki. “Also, it would’ve tipped him off and that would have ruined the whole thing. I simply failed to mention that the cart of files that I gave you needed to be sorted for indexing for the Archives department and I peppered in a couple of unrelated things about Berlitz.”
“But the office was empty that weekend,” says Loki.
Mobius snaps his fingers. “Right. I did make some adjustments to the schedule that weekend.”
“And the disturbance that prevented her from returning home on Saturday night?”
Mobius spreads his hands wide and grins. “All me, buddy. Paid G-21 five hundred bucks for that one.”
Loki pauses for a moment and then looks at you. “I don’t think I can be mad about this. I’m genuinely impressed.”
“I mean, I can’t argue with the results, but Jesus, Mobius, you could’ve just set us up on a blind date,” you say.
“Ah, but that’s not as fun,” Mobius says. “Plus, it wouldn’t have made for as good a wedding gift.” He turns the frame around and hands it to you both.
It’s both your timecards from that pay period, neatly framed side by side. Your eyes well with tears and Mobius smiles.
“Honestly, I’m just relieved it’s not a jet ski,” says Loki.
“He's deflecting,” you say to Mobius in an exaggerated whisper.
“I know,” he whispers back.
But you can’t help but notice that Loki’s eyes are brighter than normal.
“Okay, now get out of here,” says Mobius. “You’ve got a wedding to get to.”
Twenty minutes later, you’re wearing a simple white dress and standing with Loki in front of a time door, your hand clasped in his.
“Technically, we don’t have a supervisor’s approval for this,” you say with a wry smile.
He looks at you, eyes dancing with mirth. “I had Mobius sign off on the paperwork while you were getting ready.”
Your heart swells and your smile is so wide that you feel like your face might split in two. “Then hurry up and marry me, Laufeyson.”
He grins and tugs you through the time door.
-------
But wait! There's more: I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel.
5K notes · View notes
jyoongim · 3 months
Note
Just found you and read all your Alastor fics. Love them! My request is jealous fucking with breeding. But the jealousy comes on because of Lucifer. Luci comes to visit the hotel and causally makes a sweet comment to reader but as soon as he notices that it pisses off Al, Lucifer just goes all in offer to buy readers soul and free her just to piss off Al until reader and Charlie have to break them up before they fight. Then comes in the breeding, so everyone knows your his as if him owning your soul wasn’t enough
Oh I appreciate it so much! I hope you enjoy it around these parts and I am happy you enjoy my writing!
Warnings: fem!reader, jealous!Alastor, flirting, Lucifer riling up Alastor, rough sex, breeding kink, pregnancy mentioned
The hotel was in an uproar over the King of Hell's impending visit.
Charlie was a nervous wreck and you were doing everything to make sure that the hotel was somewhat presentable and that everyone was well behaved.
”Now just be your charming self and make sure to help promote the purpose of the hotel for Charlie” you said fixing Alastor’s bow tie. He smiled down at you, waving his hand dismissively “Oh don’t worry my dear Ill be the perfect host. There’s nothing to worry about”
Lucifer Morningstar, the King of Hell…was not what you had expected.
You could see where Charlie got her flare from.
He was looking around the lobby, taking in the interior and the residents. You didn’t miss the way his face scrunched up a bit.
”And here are our lovely hotel managers dad” Charlie said, turning towards you and Alastor.
You smiled, giving him a slight curtesy “Its a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty, I hope that you enjoy your time here at the hotel” 
Lucifer dawned a sultry smile, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his lips. Kissing it.
”The pleasure is all mine”
Alastor growled, stepping between the two of you. He gave a tense smile “Pleased to meet you sir” he slapped your hand out of his and took it to shake. Lucifer blinked, a slight frown on his face “and you would be?” A snort escaped the red demon 
“Alastor! Im the host of the hotel. Maybe you’ve heard of my radio broadcast?” Lucifer deadpanned “nah never was one to consume media” he shrugged.
He slipped by to your side, looping an arm around you “Now I’m sure you wouldn’t mind giving me a tour hmmm? Show me all of the more intimate parts” he chortled, as you nervously turned to Alastor.
Alastor's smile was tense and his eye was twitching slightly.
Irritated and annoyed.
Lucifer seemed to pick up on that.
He eyed the lanky demon, before cooing at you “oh don’t tell me you need the bellhop’s permission? ”
oh no. The lights flickered.
You cleared your throat “I would be honored your grace,but Alastor knows the hotel better than I. He can show you around” you offered, making the King groan.
Charlie chirped in “Yes yes. Alastor has been a great help. Well shall we?”
The tour went without any mishap. Alastor had you tucked away into his side as Charlie gave a run through of what she was trying to achieve.
Charlie suggested dinner before her dad left, to give him a little convincing to help.
You bustled about the kitchen, setting everyone’s meal down and making your way to sit by Alastor.
A hand grabbed your wrist, you stiffened as Lucifer gave you a charming smile “why not sit by me. Charlie has told of some of the improvements you think would work for the hotel”
You heard a static buzz as you took a seat by him.
You listened quietly as Charlie went on and on about her plans.
Lucifer had been not so subtly subtly flirting with you the entire dinner.
”Well I will think about it Charlie. I do believe your dream is possible” She smiled happily. he turned his eyes to you
”Especially with such lovely help” you blushed.
He seemed more interested in you.
”sooo what’s your deal with that guy” he was referring to Alastor
you tilted your head in question, he clarified his intention
”I mean he own your soul or something? A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be tied to the likes of him. how about I nullify whatever deal you made and you take you under my wing instead”
You looked at him shocked.
The sound of glass breaking sounded and Alastor shook his hand of the liquid once in the glass
He chuckled darkly “Well I am afraid it is late, wouldn’t you agree dearest?” His eyes narrowed on the man as he stood, coming around to stand behind you.
His eyes were black and glowing red as he practically sneered at the King.
Lucifer was unfazed by the intimidation tactic.
”haha what I strike a nerve? You’ve got this amazing beauty on a leash and for what? Im sure shell do much better being tied to you” 
Before Alastor could lunge at the man, you stood up and pressed yourself against him as you heard Charlie grab her dad to pull him away. 
Your hands reached for his face, turning his enraged eyes to you.
You shook your head at him slightly. You know when someone wa just trying to ruffle his feathers.
”I am feeling quite tired from today’s activities why don’t we turn in for the night yes?” You pleaded with him, softly pushing him back towards to door.
Large hands gripped your waist as his turned his eyes back towards Lucifer, he hissed lowly before whisking you out of the kitchen and to your shared bedroom.
———————————————————————————
The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room.
You whined at a harsh thrust that jolted your body against the silky sheets.
The room was buzzing with static as Alastor fucked into you.
Green chains hung heavy around your collar as Alastor pulled on them to pull you into his thrusts.
He was pissed.
His usual composed and controlled demeanor slipping the moment he slammed the door.
He had taken you against the door roughly, too pent up to let you get a single word out.
He had thrown you onto the bed after, a dark aura surrounding him as his antlers grew with the angry emotions swirling inside him.
“Ah! Ha! A-Alastor!” You moaned as another orgasm racked through you.
He twisted your chains around his arm as he used them as leverage to drill his dick into you.
“Who do he think he is?” He growled, pushing your head into the mattress 
“Thinking he can just take you from me…ME?! You are mine”
You let out a cry as he ruined your walls, balls slapping against your cunt.
“You wouldn’t leave my side would you sweetheart” he hissed down at you, turning your head so you could see him.
”Who would want you after I ruin you hmm? You would be nothing but sloppy seconds.” He regraded you, angry at the very thought of you thinking you could terminate your deal with him.
Your deal with Alastor was nothing too extreme. Your complete devotion to him for his protection.
While he might not admit it, Alastor had grown accustomed to you being by his side, able to help him see reason and take on tasks he found too mundane.
You were like his wife in a sense. 
Soft and caring, always doing whatever he asked of you.
You never complained, happily fulfilling your duties to a tee.
And some goofy, short king thinks you would leave your benefactor?
Had he not given you anything you ever wanted?
You were the most free soul he had, that was a privilege.
Your cunt squelched as he pulled out, the tip kissing your outer lips as he stilled in his rough fucking.
You panted, clammy sweat sticking to your body as he tugged at your chains.
You were on your back, thighs spread around his waist.
A hand wrapped around your throat, Alastor leaning down to press a surprise soft kiss to your forehead
”You wouldn’t dare leave me would you baby” he cocked his head at you.
You shook your head quickly, hoping that he had blew off enough steam to finally be reasonable.
But Alastor’s jealousy was ugly.
He wouldn’t be done with you until there was nothing you thought about but him.
He should be what plagues your thoughts.
You should crave him by the time he was done.
He slotted back inside you, making you gasp as he returned to his fast pace.
”Leave me for that sorry excuse of a king? Ha! You wouldn’t. No not my pretty girl. Youre my good girl aren’t you?”
You mewled as you watch him transform.
”I-Im your good girl Ah! Pl-please!” Your eyes clenched closed in pleasure.
”Youre mine. You understand that? I own you. Your every thought. Every feeling. Your body, mind, and soul are mine. You gave them to me oh so happy. I can do whatever I please with you. Ruin you and dump you off into the street like a common whore if I wished”
You whimpered at his words.
”But thats not enough is it? Hmmm? Noooo. Youre not mine” he purred.
you pouted, ready to reassure him that you were, in fact, his.
He lifted one of your legs to your chest, angling his hips down
”Ill make sure every disrespectful wretch knows you are mine. Fir it seems my constant presence isn’t enough”
Your cunt fluttered.
How else would….
His dick hit that sweet spot deep inside you
”Oh! Ah!” His hand on your neck tightened as a sharp smile appeared on his face
”So maybe putting a claim to you will do the trick”
Your mouth shaped into an ‘O’ as he fucked you roughly, hips grinding down as if to make you mold to his very shape.
Sinners couldn’t reproduce.
Right?
that was your last coherent thought as he slammed his hips into yours over and over til he sighed, his dick twitching as he filled you with his cum.
You whined as he gave soft thrusts to keep his cum inside you, purring as it spilled around him, pooling around your ass.
You whined when he pulled out, hearing a soft ‘pop’ as you clenched around nothing.
A hand settled on your lower belly, now full of his cum, Alastor grinned wicked “Let’s see how much the pipsqueak will want you now my dear” he chuckled.
———————————————————————————
“Its nice to see you again sir” you said welcoming the King of Hell inside the hotel.
He smiled and once he got a good look at you, it fell.
”Charlie will be down in a second do you need anything?” You asked sweetly, hand resting on your swollen belly.
He stuttered out a response in surprise “O-oh w-why thank you. I take it you’ve been well”
Alastor manifested behind you, grinning at the short monarch, his arm roping around your waist, hand settling on the side of your stomach “Ah yes! We’ve been busy. Im sure you can tell”
Alastor- 2
Lucifer- 0
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awearywritersworld · 6 months
Text
i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you
sukuna x reader summary: you and sukuna go out for a late night meal. gojo finds out about your... relationship. sukuna is forced to take care of you when you come home drunk. w/c: 2.85k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. fluff. lots of banter. cursing. jealous/protective!sukuna. gojo being a flirt. aged up!yuuji. features a teeny bit of yuuji x reader. drinking and drunk!reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i think i like how this turned out! also, the first two sections could def be read as a fluffy lil stand alone. idc whats happening in the canonverse, sukunas just a tsundere who adores us very much<3 series masterlist // masterlist
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"maybe if you stare long enough, food will magically appear," sukuna calls to you from the kitchen table.
"this is no joking matter," you scold from your place in front of the fridge. "i'm starving."
"well, here's an absurd idea— let's go eat."
you turn toward him, finally closing the fridge, and tilt your head to the side. "you eat?"
"of course." he leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "i typically prefer babies, but hell, i'd even go for an old man right now. i'm famished."
your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. he lets the panic simmer on your face for a few more cruel moments. "i'm kidding, idiot. i eat food, same as you."
"i knew that," you assert. the way your shoulders sag in relief tells him otherwise.
"right," he smirks. after standing up, he grabs your purse and tosses it in your direction. "where to? you're buying."
with only so many places open at midnight, you begin your journey to a 24 hour ramen shop.
you've hardly interacted with sukuna outside of your apartment, so this is certainly an experience you didn't anticipate. and in fact, you're shocked at how normal it feels— almost as if it's a date.
as you walk down the street, people eye him suspiciously because of the dark lines they assume are tattoos. it doesn't bother you though, nor does the lateness of the hour. you know that you're safe because you're with him.
your hands keep brushing against one another's, and you're hoping that he'll eventually take a hint and reach for yours. he doesn't (i mean come on, do you even know who you're dealing with?).
he does at least pick up on your pouty expression with impressive ease. "what now?"
"nothing," you huff.
"don't be a brat."
you sigh dramatically. "you're supposed to hold my hand."
"sure princess," he says condescendingly, lacing his fingers through yours. "maybe use your words next time like a big girl."
he doesn't fail to notice the ensuing skip in your step, and he kicks himself for regarding it as cute.
when you arrive at the ramen shop, sukuna orders no less than three bowls, which earns him a glare once the waitress walks away.
"when i agreed to pay, i didn't know what a glutton you are."
"oh yeah? cause i'm just the picture of temperance any other time?"
you scoff. "well you've got me there."
a sly smirk settles onto his face before he speaks again. "maybe one day you'll learn how greedy i am when it comes to the things i've deemed pleasurable."
you choke on the water you'd just brought to your lips, your face heating up as if it'd been bathed by fire.
wiping at your mouth, you try your best to recover quickly. "whatever, you hellion. as long as that doesn't involve a fourth bowl of ramen."
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you're no more than 10 steps away from the shop when you hold out your hand to him. "ahem."
he grabs it roughly and not without rolling his eyes.
"what?" you ask innocently. "that was a word."
"hardly," he jeers. "for as much as you read, i'd expect you to be more fluent than a child."
"and at 1000 years old, i'd expect you to be more charming than a teenage boy, but i guess we're both making concessions."
"see, this is the part that puzzles me. you never seem to have trouble with your words when you're being insolent."
"maybe it's a sign," you begin whimsically. "the universe decided you need to be taken down a peg."
"ah, yes. you as the executor of the universe's will. i don't know why i couldn't see it before."
you giggle, rather delighted that he's elected to play along with your quips. there's something that feels so warm and pleasant about it.
as you wonder if he feels it too, your hand tightens around his.
you're not quite ready to head back to your apartment just yet, because you're scared you'll lose the atmosphere surrounding the two of you. in truth, it's a bit intoxicating.
the perfect opportunity arises when you spot a small park up ahead. lights are strung around the trees, all of which are situated around a small fountain.
"we should stop at that park!" you hardly finish speaking before you take off in that direction, tugging him along behind you.
after you plop down on the fountain's ledge, sukuna takes his place beside you.
"let's sit here for a little while."
he doesn't respond and you take his silence as agreement. he's not really one to stifle his grievances.
as the minutes pass, the rush of the fountain is the only noise that fills the air, while you gaze at the trees with a serene expression.
sukuna, however, is looking at you. the only care he has for the trees is the way their lights reflect in your eyes. otherwise, he's fully occupied by the curve of your nose and the fullness of your lips.
"isn't this pretty?" you finally ask.
"it's pretty," he agrees, even when such a soft word feels foreign on his tongue.
his eyes still haven't left you, and you seem to be oblivious to this fact until he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the back of fingers.
when your gaze lands on him, the fondness written all over his face catches you off guard and you realize how close the both of you are. without really thinking about it, you lean into his touch.
"very pretty," he repeats lowly, as if he's talking to himself.
your heart lurches once in your chest, then hammers away at your ribcage without respite. he leans toward you a fraction of an inch, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a brief second.
truthfully, sukuna has never felt the way he does in this moment. it's a sincere sort of desire. he doesn't want the mindless devotion he once thirsted for from his followers. and he doesn't want the sex he used to crave from his concubines.
no. he just wants you— in whatever capacity you're willing to have him.
the way he's looking at you is just too much. there's a dull thudding in your ears and you swear your thoughts are moving at a million miles a minute.
so naturally, you blurt out the first thing you can manage. "we should take a selfie!"
his face shifts from whatever that expression was to one of confusion. "take a selfie?"
some twisted mix of relief and disappointment crashes through you.
"yeah, a selfie. a picture together. ya know, since the park is so pretty," you ramble.
he pulls away from you. not all the way, but enough that it gives you space to finally breath. he chuckles and it doesn't sound lofty like it so often does. in fact, he seems genuinely amused by you.
"a selfie," he deliberates. "that sounds great, but to the best of my knowledge, hell hasn't frozen over."
and just like that, your dynamic feels like it did during your walk from the ramen shop to the park— comfortable and fun.
"well i guess you would be one of the first to know."
ignoring his protests, you take out your phone and hold it far enough away that the camera captures both of your faces. you can see on the screen that he's put on an expression of complete boredom.
"c'mon," you nudge him with your elbow. "you look like you hate me."
the corner of his mouth curves upward. "that's because i do."
you think back on the way he was gazing at you just moments ago and laugh. "you're so full of shit."
then, without warning, you press a kiss to his cheek and click the button.
you decide that his vague look of contented surprise will just have to do.
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when you and yuuji walk into the bar, you immediately spot one of the people you're there to meet. he's sitting at a hightop by himself, his snow white hair pretty hard to miss.
you tap his shoulder and his face breaks out into a grin. he slides out of the barstool. "if it isn't my favorite civilian!"
as he pulls you into a hug, you wonder if he's ever going to get tired of that joke. "if it isn't my favorite old man."
"35 is not old," he argues, moving to greet yuuji. "i'm still in the summer of my life, thank you very much!"
"gojo you're 36," the pink haired man remarks.
"gah! such betrayal, yuuji!" he presses his hand to his forehead and takes a deep breath. "now i'm going to need another round."
"i'll go and get drinks for all of us," you offer. "you two stay here so no one takes the table."
before either of them can respond, you turn and begin making your way through the crowd. you don't hear gojo when he calls out, "but darling! i should go with you!"
he takes a step in your direction, but stops when sukuna's mouth appears on yuuji's cheek. "you certainly should not, you insufferable half wit."
"relax, dude. he flirts with literally everyone," yuuji informs him.
gojo scoffs. "i am right here—"
"as if that makes it better?" sukuna barks. "she isn't some toy to be played with."
"of course she isn't! you can't honestly think i'd believe otherwise."
gojo is left forgotten for a moment as the other two bicker, so he interjects once there's a lull in the conversation. "do either of you care to explain what the hell is going on?"
yuuji turns toward him, trying and failing to hide the embarrassment on his face once he realizes that gojo is, in fact, still standing there.
his eyebrows are raised above his sunglasses and it's clear he is inappropriately amused by the situation (what else is new?). he moves to sit across from the younger man, looking at him expectantly.
having no way to talk himself out of this, yuuji relays the recent events regarding you and sukuna, sparing some of the finer details. gojo's face doesn't really betray much emotion throughout the story, though he does look thoughtful by the end of it.
leaning forward, he crosses his arms on top of the table. "maybe your feelings for her are influencing his own, forcing a sort of bond between them?"
"i don't think so," yuuji contends honestly. "other than her, you're the person i admire and respect the most, but he thinks—"
"that you are perhaps the most imbecilic rampallion i've ever had the displeasure of coming across."
gojo jerks back, as if the insult had hit him squarely in the jaw. the look of giddiness from yuuji's compliment, followed by the shift to indignation at sukuna's insult is almost comical.
he stretches his neck forward, cupping his hand around one side of his mouth as if it'd keep sukuna from hearing. "what'd he just call me?"
yuuji shrugs. "beats me, but i don't think he was singing your praises."
"i see your point." gojo pauses, glancing over his shoulder. you're approaching the table, so he turns back to yuuji and quickly adds, "we'll talk more about this another time, but for now, keep this between us."
a few moments later, you appear in front of them and exclaim, "look who i found!"
megumi and inumaki situate themselves around the table too, offering their greetings. you slide yuuji and gojo their drinks, both of which are filled to the brim of the glass. "now then gentlemen, shall we?"
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when gojo teleports you and yuuji back to your apartment that night, it takes everything in you to keep from yakking all over your carpet.
"ta ta, hooligans!"
you turn to request that he never do that again, but he's already gone. taking one step forward, you promptly fall on your ass in the entryway with an unforgiving thud. yuuji staggers toward the couch, making it there just in time to face plant into the cushions.
looking down toward your shoes, you're dismayed to find that each one appears to have two sets of laces. you're fumbling with them determinedly when someone crouches down in front of you, their elbows resting on their thighs.
he doesn't say a word. brushing your hands away, he unties your shoes and carefully pulls them off your feet. you're lifted from the floor before you can register the arm that's looped under your knees or the other that's securely around your back.
"careful," you hiccup, your head falling into the crook of his neck. "'m gunna p-puke."
"i'd rather you didn't."
you groan. "s'not like i 'ave a choice in the matter."
he hums. "how much did you drink?"
"dunno. sss'much. nobara—" you hiccup again. "nobara n' maki made me."
he chuckles, placing you down on what you figure is your bed. "right, i'm sure you had no choice in the matter."
"tha's correct, yes."
unbuttoning your jeans, he tugs upward on your belt loops. "lift."
you do as he says, lifting your hips from the bed so he can slide your jeans off your legs. he knows you won't remember this— hell, your eyes are already closed— but he looks away as he does it anyway.
pulling your phone from your pocket and putting it on the charger, your pants are discarded off to the side. he only turns his head back in your direction once he's pulled the blankets up over your body.
"tuck me in?" you request.
sitting down on the bed beside you, he does so without protest.
he stares at you for a little while, worried about how poorly you're probably going to feel in the morning. he presses a kiss to your forehead, intending to get up and grab a water bottle for your nightstand.
instead, his body freezes when he hears you mumble, "i love you s'much."
his heart clenches so painfully, he honestly considers ripping it from his chest— it would probably be less agonizing.
but a thought that makes him feel like a fool occurs to him. of course it's not him that you love. "i'm not yuuji."
"well, duuuhhh. you're s'kuna." you're peering up at him through tired, hazy eyes. it's the first time you've ever seen him look bewildered, so a small giggle erupts from your throat. "s'okay. you don't 'ave t'say it back."
your eyes flutter shut and your breathing evens out before he even thinks to respond. all at once, it's as if his head is empty and as if it's about to explode.
love?
what does he know about love? it's a sentiment he's cursed for so long, but sitting here beside you, he can't quite seem to remember why. one thing he is sure of, however, is that there's never been a thing in the world he's loved.
suddenly, he's struck with remembrance of a quote from jane eyre you had emphasized with messy underlines:
"after a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary solitude, i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you. you are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel. i am bound to you with a strong attachment. i think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."
rochester says it as he begs jane to stay at thornfield with him, an act sukuna had previously regarded as ridiculous, but is that still the case?
were you to ever scorn him, would he fall to his knees and plead with you to change your mind? or if you were in danger of dying, would he drag himself to a shrine and pray to the gods he doesn't believe in?
is that what love is?
could he stand to be apart from you? are you special to him? does anything else in the world compare to you? does he seek out your company? is he consumed by you? can he know himself without knowing you?
does the definition of love lie in those questions?
sukuna hopes not, because he's terrified of the answers. being in love is not his way, nor is it in his nature.
he buries his face in his hands as realization settles into his bones. it feels as if they're splintering beneath the pressure, trying resentfully to stave it off.
he transcends any imaginable scale of power. he's bled entire villages dry, he's commandeered death, he's the king of curses.
so why now? and why you? is it divine retribution? a sick sort of joke that even he couldn't have dreamed up?
gods, you were right. the universe has sent you to carry out its will and he's completely powerless to stop it.
the worst part of it all? he doesn't want to.
taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @thepup356 @risuola *users in bold could not be tagged
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crishayle · 7 months
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Part of Fortune in the houses
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Part of Fortune is a point of happiness in your natal chart. It is on it that you can see where and how to look for your luck. For a more accurate interpretation of this placement, please see the sign and aspects of your Fortune.
Part of Fortune in the 1st house:
Your luck lies in your independence. If you need to make a decision, don't listen to anyone. You really attract good luck when you are in full control and accept your life. Luck turns away from you when you start to envy others or compare yourself and your successes with someone else.What is the secret of luck? In independence, focus only on your life and yourself. It is important to learn to appreciate your desires and not put them below others.
Part of Fortune in the 2nd house:
Your luck lies in finding a balance between material and spiritual values. When you focus only on one thing, you may notice how your resources are being cut off in this area.What is the secret of luck? In the ability to be content with the small and enjoy the big. Appreciate every little victory you have. Keep a balance between the material and the spiritual.Think about your career, but don't forget to text to friends and family :)
Part of Fortune in the 3rd house:
Your luck lies in communicating with other people. I don't know if you believe in fate or not, but I do. I have repeatedly met people with Fortune in the 3rd house who said that talking to other people radically changed something in their lives for the better. Simply put, share your thoughts and ideas with your friends. You will definitely find inspiration!What is the secret of luck? In communication with other people. Also, the 3rd house is responsible for thinking, so most often such people can really attract positive/negative into their lives with just the power of thought. Don't be afraid to discuss your ideas and motivate yourself more and then everything will work out :)
Part of Fortune in the 4th house:
Your luck lies in caring and kindness. Here the rule "give and get twice as much" applies. Luck can turn away from you because of greed, avarice and evil. Also a little advice from a man with Fortune in the 4th house:clean the house more often so that more things, food and money come to the house. What is the secret of luck? In generosity, care and kindness. This person always gets his good back because of the boomerang effect.
Part of Fortune in the 5th house:
Your luck lies in creativity. Stop, I know that everywhere the 5th house is associated only with creativity, but please read on. Creativity in the broadest sense of the word is the ability of a person to create something of his own. It may not be related to art. I have friends with Fortune in the 5th house who have opened their own business or those who are engaged in science. In general, these people create something unique of their own. What is the secret of luck? In creating something unique. Such people achieve success when they reveal their abilities and are not afraid to be themselves. Don't be shy, try and experiment.
Part of Fortune in the 6th house:
Your luck lies in your health. One of the coolest placements.Of course, human health needs to be looked at throughout the natal chart, but whatever you get infected with, you will recover. This is one of the indicators of strong immunity, physical endurance, successful operations, and sometimes longevity. What is the secret of luck? In human health and his ability to wait. The 6th house is responsible for discipline and patience. For such a person, success in his career or personal life may come later than he expects, but it will definitely be worth it.By the way, try to create your own ritual or good luck charm.
Part of Fortune in the 7th house:
Your luck lies in other people.No kidding, career successes and other good things start to happen when you work in a team. Some of my friends with Fortune in the 7th house, thanks to friends, found a good house at a bargain price or had an internship at their favorite company. What is the secret of luck? People nowadays are the most important resource. Communicate more and get to know people. The 7th house in astrology also represents the soul mate. If Venus and the Moon are also in good placements in your natal chart, then Part of Fortune in the 7th house can speak of a happy marriage:)
Part of Fortune in the 8th house:
Your luck lies in the risk. You know, the case when a person doesn't need to do anything to find good luck. The catch is that he gets lucky only at the VERY LAST MOMENT. At the same time, people with placements in the 8th house feel their karma very subtly. Do not be arrogant and do not use your luck for selfish purposes.What is the secret of luck? In the ability to appreciate the gifts of fate. For example, I have a friend with Fortune in the 8th house who complained that he could not buy a new iPhone (although his current phone worked fine) and it was stolen the next day. Fortune in the 8th house is really cool (I'm a little jealous even), just always appreciate what you have and then get 2 times more.
Part of Fortune in the 9th house:
Your luck lies in curiosity. The 9th house is the ability to know the world. People with Fortune in the 9th house can successfully change their profession, get a second higher education or fly to another company for an internship. You have endless potential, so being in the comfort zone only moves luck away from you.What is the secret of luck? In change and curiosity. I understand that sometimes it's scary to leave your comfort zone, but Fortune in the 9th house even encourages mistakes. Luck seems to be trying to teach and add more life experience to a person with this placement.
Part of Fortune in the 10th house:
Your luck lies in discipline and patience. I have not yet met a single person with Fortune in the 10th house who would just be so lucky. These people achieve a successful career or a happy relationship as if climbing a mountain.What is the secret of luck? In diligence and patience. Every time the hope leaves you that all your labors are in vain, remember that you have already passed half the way and the rest is quite a bit. The 10th house is a very long time house in astrology. Yes, it takes a lot of time, but after all, luck will be with you for a long time as well. Saturn (the planet of the 10th house) is very fair!
Part of Fortune in the 11th house:
Your luck lies in the development of spiritual skills. It is very important to keep order in your head. I noticed that such people tend to attract events with words and their thoughts. It is important to maintain a balance between heart and mind.What is the secret of luck? In balance. The 11th house is actually not as crazy as many people think. As soon as a person with this placement finds inner peace and realizes what is really important to him in life, luck begins to patronize him. Listen to your heart and be friends with your mind and everything will be fine :)
Part of Fortune in the 12th house:
Your luck lies in the secret. It's like you're lucky while no one is watching. The very case when you don't need to talk about your plans and dreams to people and then everything will come true. A little more advice:listen to the signs of fate. If the other placements of Fortune achieve success through people, time, karma, self-development, then you are lucky alone.What is the secret of luck? Happiness loves silence. Don't brag and don't share your plans.Less words, more action and everything will work out :)
You can write what questions about the Part of Fortune you are concerned about. I plan to write 2 more very interesting articles about it, so wait :)
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shuaflix · 1 year
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my guardian demon sucks at his job (not clickbait)
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❝ look, i accidentally summoned jeonghan from my statistics textbook the day before you met him at the olive garden. ❞
PAIRING ▸ demon!yoon jeonghan x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, angst, supernatural, demon au
WARNINGS ▸ not so biblically accurate, profanity, slowburn, found family, inspirations from mythology and h. p. lovecraft, lots of banter, alcohol consumption, sexual tension, teasing, dirty talk, oral (fem. receiving), fingering, palming, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), mc is painfully horny, ft. demon!shua and demon!wonwoo 
SUMMARY ▸ just when you thought your luck couldn't get any worse, you accidentally manage to summon an ancient demon prince named jeonghan out of a scrap of paper from your statistics textbook. now, you're tasked with figuring out how to return your so-called "guardian demon" back to where he came from before he can stir up more trouble.
PLAYLIST ▸ our dawn is hotter than day by seventeen • cruel summer by taylor swift
WORD COUNT ▸ 23,610 words
TAG LIST ▸ @byunfirstlady​ @90s-belladonna​ @knucklesdeepmingi​ @xlovette​ @variety-is-the-joy-of-life​ @hatesbutlovespeople7734​ @goquokka​
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i had so much fun writing this so i hope you guys enjoy this one!! thank you so much for supporting my works ♡ lmk what u think!
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TO BE FAIR, YOU REALLY DIDN’T EXPECT THE SPELL TO WORK.
You initially thought the scrap of paper you found in your statistics textbook was someone’s torn-up Latin homework. You borrowed the copy from the library earlier in the day, realizing that the only way you would pass your midterm would be if you actually studied. Wedged between the pages of Chapter Three - Linear Regression was the dubious piece of paper.  
You thought nothing of it at first. You turned a blind eye to how it was yellowed due to age, thinking it was just left behind by accident. It didn’t even cross your mind about how strange it was that someone left their Latin homework in a statistics textbook.
There was no real reason why you read the words aloud. You thought it could act as some sort of good luck charm—something that could manifest good grades on your exams—but you ended up with the exact opposite.
The paper started glowing, but it wasn’t bright light; a void of pitch darkness emitted from the scrap instead. Mind you, it was nearly the middle of the night. It was already dark, but your room was starting to look like you had opened up a schism in space.
You dropped the paper in the middle of the room instinctively, hissing lightly at how it nearly froze your fingers off. Your room’s temperature dropped by several degrees, and if you weren’t internally freaking out about the random black hole in the middle of your room, you would have curled up in your blankets.
This was one hell of a karmic retribution for slacking on your work for half the semester.
You could hardly see the paper, but you could see faint smoke coming from the middle of the source. It seeped along your bedroom floor, and you contemplated calling your roommate for help before realizing that you, in fact, had no roommate and lived alone.
From there, the paper seemed to crumple up and dissipate into thin air. Instead, a shadowy figure emerged from the smoke. You were not religious by any means, but you felt like this was probably the best time to start praying to whatever higher power was out there.
Light returned to the room once the darkness and smoke faded away. You could now make out the entity’s figure more clearly, noting how it towered over you with sharp horns sticking out from its tuft of hair. Once you could see well enough to make out its face, you were met with what you thought was a human, though the horns and red eyes were throwing you in for a loop.
Humans often had four different psychological responses to traumatic or stressful experiences:
Fight: facing any perceived threat head-on.
Flight: running away from the perceived threat.
Fawn: resorting to appealing to the perceived threat to avoid potential conflict.
Freeze: being unable to move or act against the perceived threat.
Being the absolute weapon of survival you were, your body chose to freeze.
The thing just stared at you until its mouth stretched into a lazy smirk. “Hey, I’m—”
In seconds, your body moved on its own. As soon as you heard the smallest sound come from the being, you grabbed your backpack that was leaning against your bed frame, and you started swinging at the entity with it.
You chose to fight.
You were no longer useless.
“Ow!” the thing winced, shrinking back with each blow. You were slightly worried about breaking your laptop inside, but you were currently prioritizing your life more. “Cut it out!”
You got a better look at this thing. He was clearly attractive with his strong jawline and dark, sleepy eyes—assuming he was even a dude in the first place. You still kept your guard up around Pretty Boy, though, considering he had just Harry Potter’d his way into your bedroom.
“Who—what are you?” you spluttered, holding your backpack up in a (hopefully) threatening way.
“Me?” Pretty Boy grinned. “I’m your demon.”
What in the Wizards of Waverly Place was this man talking about? You stared blankly at the guy before taking a careful step backward. Of course, there were far too many supernatural elements packed into the last minute for you to completely shut down the idea, but it sounded downright crazy. This was something that only happened in books and movies, and they weren’t supposed to be hot!
“A… a demon? From Hell?”
“Yes, that’s usually where demons tend to be from.”
Great, this “demon” was a smart-ass, too.
“What’s a demon?” you asked. It took you a few moments to realize that you had, in fact, asked an extremely stupid question. Of course you knew what a demon was; you didn’t have to be a religious studies major to know about all the Jesus and Satan lore.
“I’m glad you asked,” said demon started, although he didn’t seem to be glad at all. “There are demons that should be summoned, and there are demons that should not be summoned. Can you guess which one I am?”
“Uh…” You deliberated carefully. “You’re a demon that can be summoned.”
“Wrong!” Pretty Boy answered. “I’m a demon that shouldn’t be summoned, so I need you to explain how on Earth you summoned me.”
“I—I thought you said you were my demon.”
“I am,” he said, “because most demons can only be summoned by their designated human, which you did, but I, of all demons, am not meant to be summoned and trapped in this realm! How in Lucifer’s name did you summon me, human?”
You held up a hand to keep him from charging forward at you. “First of all, my name is Y/N. Shouldn’t you be familiar with your own human’s name? Second of all, what do you mean by ‘designated human’?”
Pretty Boy sighed. “I’m supposed to be your assigned demon.”
You frowned. “Supposed to be?”
“Yeah, sorry, I’ve kind of been neglecting you. Totally forgot your name and everything.” He hummed inquisitively. “Remind me of it again?”
“Y/N,” you repeated carefully, slightly offended. “What the hell is an assigned demon?”
“If I tell you,” he started in a somber tone, and you hung onto every word, worrying at your lip and fearing something dreadful would happen, “then it’s no fun.”
He had to be fucking with you.
“No fun?” you questioned. “Are you kidding?”
“I happen to be very serious,” he answered, “and I’m getting the feeling that you’re a bit of a kill-joy, human.”
“Listen,” you spat, “I have a stats midterm tomorrow, so you better start talking before I get back to studying and ignore you.”
“Fine,” he complied. “Think of it, like… a guardian demon.”
“Damn.” You looked up at him with wide eyes. “If I give you my soul, can you help me pass my midterm?”
“That’s not quite how it works, and I may be a demon, but that’s a pretty stupid request in exchange for your soul,” he deadpanned. “Okay, now tell me how you summoned me.”
Your gaze dropped to the spot on the floor where the black void opened up. You recalled the slip of paper disintegrating into thin air once the demon appeared. You were certain that was the key to this bizarre merging of two realms.
“Uh,” you said, “there was a piece of paper with some Latin written on it. You appeared after I read the words out loud.”
And after turning your room into an arctic tundra.
Pretty Boy’s face fell upon your words. You were shocked that the demon looked so crest-fallen all of a sudden, and it was making you feel a bit guilty for dragging him out of Hell.
You decided to ask, “Are you okay?”
“I am not okay, I am Yoon Jeonghan, one of the seven princes of Hell,” he started angrily, causing you to take a cautious step backward. “I am Greed, the creator of alchemy, forger of the Twin Blade, constructor of the—” The demon cut himself off when you held up a fist to your mouth to keep yourself from laughing. “W-what? What’s so funny, human?”
“I’m sorry,” you apologized quickly, accidentally letting a giggle slip from your lips, “but there’s no way some pretty face like you is a demon prince.”
“I emerged from an opening in the ground, and you still refuse to believe I’m a demon?”
“Well—”
“Human, do you know why a ‘pretty face’ like me is a demon prince?” Pretty Demon Boy a.k.a Jeonghan inquired, stepping closer until you were backed up against your desk. “The King of all demons himself was once considered the most beautiful of all angels. Why?” With three fingers, he tilted your chin up enough for you to take a good look at him—at the swirling dark red in his eyes. “Because demons represent temptation.”
“Temptation,” you echoed, embarrassed that your voice came out more strangled than intended. “Yeah, well, I’m really tempted to kick your ass back to Hell right now.”
You supposed he was onto something, in a sense. Maybe Jeonghan was telling the truth because you couldn’t focus on anything else but how his lips were nearing yours. It was as if your senses had completely clouded over.
Upon your words, however, he dropped his gaze and pulled away from you. Jeonghan looked saddened, which was a sight you had not expected from the smug-faced demon. You weren’t educated on demon lore or anything, but you were quite surprised that they were capable of feeling such human emotions.
“There are ways demons can be summoned,” he said in a somber voice. “If we are summoned by our names, then we can appear and promptly return to Hell. Incantations, though, are tricky; with negligence, there is a possibility that I’m stuck here.”
“Stuck here?” you asked, raising your voice. “What do you mean? You can’t go back?”
“Well, do you remember the words on that piece of paper?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t have a way of going back, dumbass.”
You huffed. “I didn’t know a demon prince could have the vocabulary of a middle school boy.”
“We can speak any language on this planet and adapt to modern slang,” he explained. “I can also speak dolphin. Wanna hear?”
“No, let’s circle back to getting you back to Hell,” you shut him down before he started using echolocation. “There has to be some other way, right?”
“We have a few options, actually,” he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. You cringed at the thought of the intruder making himself at home, but you supposed you were the one who got him in this mess, anyway. It wouldn’t be smart for you to boss him around, especially since he could overtake you easily. “Either you remember the incantation, or… actually, I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”
“So, we only have one option?” you clarified. “I have the memory of a goldfish, so I think you’re fucked.” You scratched your neck in thought. “Can’t you call one of your demon buddies to bring you back?”
“Demon buddies?” He laughed coldly. “We aren’t exactly buddy-buddy down there.”
“Then why do you wanna go back so bad?”
“This materialized human form of mine will not last me very long,” he replied gravely, though you weren’t quite convinced the horns and red eyes were doing him any favors. “Normally, I could be up here for as long as I want, but my powers are weak right now. I will eventually perish like this, unless…”
“Unless?”
“Unless I kill an angel.”
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After your morbid conversation with Jeonghan, you decided you would deal with the issue after your midterm. The demon insisted that he would not be able to leave your side since you summoned him, so that led to him sleeping on your floor. To your horror, he was pleasantly satisfied with this sleeping arrangement, claiming it was “better than being boiled alive in oil.”
His bedroom in Hell didn’t sound very cozy.
The next morning, you woke to an email notification that your midterm had been canceled. Something about your professor falling sick out of nowhere.
You wanted to rejoice, but you couldn’t help but feel that this was because of Jeonghan. This was probably the whole “guardian demon” thing, but he was causing chaos and disorder to get you what you wanted. It left an uneasy feeling, but, regardless, you were satisfied with not taking an exam.
Anyway, why was Jeonghan, self-proclaimed prince of demons, assigned to be your guardian? When you turned in your bed to see him sitting at your desk and staring at your textbook, you asked him the question that was bugging you.
He scoffed and replied, “I don’t know. Luck?”
You narrowed your eyes. “Is it really lucky that a demon prince was assigned to me? Sounds a little unnerving.”
“That just means you have a powerful demon on your side.” He smirked and leaned in to ask, “Were you happy to see your midterm canceled this morning?”
“So it was you!” you exclaimed. “Look, I appreciate it and everything, but you can’t just make people sick to help me out.”
“I can’t?” He looked surprisingly innocent when you reprimanded him, like a seven-year-old being told not to color on the walls. “I didn’t even murder him or anything.”
“That—that’s also pretty bad,” you stammered. “Let’s not do any of that, okay?”
“But that’s no fun.”
“This isn’t about having fun! These are people’s lives. How would you feel if I harmed one of the other demon princes for fun?”
“That’s hot. I’d probably cum in my pants.”
“Okay, maybe that was a bad example,” you grumbled. “Is there anyone you care about down there?”
“Not down there, not up here,” he replied. “I’m a demon, remember? There’s no one who cares for me, so I don’t care for anyone either.”
“Wow,” you said. “You could be the poster boy for 2012 Tumblr angst.”
“I’ll pretend I understood that, human.”
There was something bothering you, though. Jeonghan’s words last night about killing an angel were parroting in your head. You couldn’t shake off the guilt that he could potentially die on Earth because of you, but it felt immoral to kill an angel to return to his prison in Hell. On the other hand, you couldn’t bear to see him perish because of you.
“How long do you have?” you asked. “You know… to live.”
“Hm… I’d say about 718 years?”
“Oh, what the fuck? You’re chilling.”
“In Hell time.”
You frowned. “How long is that in Earth years?”
Jeonghan’s gaze flew to the ceiling as he tried to calculate the math in his head, using his fingers to count off. “That’s about half an Earth year, so, like, six months.”
“Oh no,” you replied in absolute dread, “and you’re still planning on killing an angel?”
“If that’s the only way to save me—yes.”
“Well, how do you even find one?”
“I can sense their presence,” he said before standing up. “Come on, human. You’ll have to show me around your world so that I can remember the mortal way of life.”
“I guess, but first”—you stopped him by raising your hand—“you’ll have to get rid of those horns.”
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Once Jeonghan concealed his horns and changed his eyes to a more socially acceptable color, you gave him the green light to go outside. He looked good like this, but he was attracting too much attention. The demon simply had too big of an ego to tone down the attractiveness, so you were stuck walking around with a chick magnet.
“You’re a demon,” you whispered harshly. “You’re telling me you don’t have any ugly forms?”
Jeonghan sighed. “That is the unfortunate curse of a demon. We can’t help that our beauty is so blinding.”
You wanted to punch him. The boiling oil prison bed wasn’t a curse, but this was?
“Well, people are staring, and it’s making me uncomfortable. I’ve never been the center of attention—or, well, around the center of attention.”
“Then would you like me to gouge out their eyeballs with a dagger?”
“No!” you yelled. “No, there will be no gouging of eyeballs!”
You started going off on your Murder Is Normally Socially Unacceptable And Wrong tangent up until you realized that Jeonghan was no longer next to you. Fear shot up your spine right before you spotted him standing in front of an Olive Garden that you two had walked past earlier.
“Jeonghan, what are you doing?” you asked, frowning. “Let’s keep walking.”
“Human,” he said, clearly ignoring your words, “take me into this restaurant.”
“You’re hungry?” When he nodded, you sighed and complied, saying, “Alright, then, I’ll pay.”
You were worried that the demon wouldn’t behave properly, but, to your surprise, he stood to the side and let you do the talking. You found his shy smile strangely endearing, especially when he tilted his head after the waitress asked if you two were a couple.
“Yes,” he answered before you could shut it down. “We’ve come in a pair.”
You forced a laugh, glancing at the waitress to make sure she didn’t think you two were absolute nutjobs. Well, you supposed it had no effect on you if your psychotic demon was perceived as one, but you were 100% normal across the board. Thankfully, the waitress laughed it off and asked if either of you wanted anything to drink.
You smiled. “Just water, please.”
“Do you have any blood?” Jeonghan asked at the same time.
Your head shot up to see his furrowed brows as he tried to decipher the Italian dishes on the menu. At this point, you were mortified and could positively say that you were not taking Jeonghan outside after this. You’d rather be stuck in his boiling oil prison than be put through this torment.
“B-Bloody Mary?” the waitress asked.
“Oh, is this Mary providing the blood? I don’t really care to know who exactly she is, but I appreciate the—”
“Yeah, he meant a Bloody Mary,” you cut in loudly, putting on a sugary sweet smile for her. You turned to the demon with a warning look in your eyes, but you kept up the playful act as you chided, “Jeonghan! I told you to quit with the pranks here!”
“Oh, you two are so funny,” the waitress gushed. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
“Thank you!” you chirped. When she was out of sight, you dropped your fake smile so you could kick the living crap out of the demon’s shin. He winced and raised a brow at you. “What made you think you could ask for blood at a restaurant?”
Jeonghan scoffed. “I’m a demon.”
“Oh, really? I wouldn’t have guessed from the hundred times you’ve mentioned it.”
“I can’t eat this food.” Jeonghan put the menu down and ran his fingers down the list of options. “Well, I suppose I could stomach it for sustenance, but it won’t satisfy my hunger.”
“Then what do you need to eat?” you asked, expecting to hear something morbid.
“Well, human blood or flesh would help,” he said. Just as you thought—morbid. Then, after a moment of thought, he added, “or… I’d need to have sex.”
“S-sex?!” you exclaimed. You tried not to choke on air, which failed about five seconds later. Never in your life did you expect hellbound demons to be so lecherous. Well, it made perfect sense, but it was still odd to think about. “You’re telling me the only way you can be fed is by cannibalism or sex?”
“Cannibalism is a strong word.”
“Cannibalism is the only word for people who eat other people!”
“I’m not a person,” he defended. “I’m a demon. I believe you humans call this ‘the food cycle,’ am I right?”
You leaned back in your seat to groan into your hands. “I guess we’re just gonna have to find a way to get you back before you get too hungry. How long can you go without food?”
“Probably forever if I was in Hell,” Jeonghan said, “but I feel really hungry.”
“Is this some ulterior motive to get into my pants?”
Jeonghan barked out a laugh. “Human, do you know who the Seven Deadly Sins are?”
“Sort of? I’ve seen the anime.”
“They’re the seven human vices, and I’m Greed,” he explained. “Other than me, there’s Lust, Wrath, Envy, Sloth, Gluttony, and Pride. Many say that Pride is the worst of them all, but I am destructive at every level. Greed is what breaks a person down and then brings them to destroy the world around them.”
His voice was pitched deeper when he continued, “Greed is the sin that can never be satisifed.”
“O-okay,” you said carefully, “so why are you telling me this?”
“I’m telling you this because you’re pretty naive for someone who summoned a demon as powerful as I am,” he replied calmly. “I’m Greed, so of course that was an ulterior motive to get into your pants.”
Oh.
Awkward.
You weren’t sure if you were blushing because Jeonghan was hot or because no man had ever been so direct with you. For what it was worth, you were positive that the warm feeling in your chest wasn’t because you were flattered or anything. Being asked for sex in the middle of a restaurant wasn’t hot in the slightest bit, and especially after he proceeded to mansplain how he was a manipulative, conniving bastard.
“Don’t feel pressured,” he said.
Although those were the words that came out of his mouth, you could feel the impatience seeping from him. However, it had you thinking that this could become some sort of transaction. You would surely feel used if you let him get what he wanted so easily, but you would definitely be swayed if there was something in it for you. Plus, Jeonghan was unmistakably attractive, which was probably simply the devil’s temptation getting to you.
“If I let you satisfy your hunger… um, sexually,” you started, “then I want something in return.”
A mischievous glint flashed in his dark eyes. “Oh? You’re making things fun, human.”
You felt something hot roiling deep inside your core, making you nearly lose your breath for a moment. The effect he had on you was otherworldly. (You supposed this checked out considering he himself was otherworldly.)
Before you could lay down your guidelines, a voice called from behind, “Sorry, your previous waitress had something come up, so I’ll be taking your orders for your meal. My name’s—whoa, Y/N?”
Your eyes widened. “Seokmin! Oh my god, you work here?”
“Yeah, I do,” he said, laughing lightly at your surprise. “Is this your, uh, boyfriend?”
You met Jeonghan’s stare with an awkward smile. “N-no, we’re just friends.”
Seokmin beamed at the demon, who, to your dismay, made no effort to reciprocate. “Nice to meet you. I was in one of Y/N’s classes last semester. Where are you from?”
Jeonghan reached out to shake the hand that Seokmin held out. You knew he was blunt, but you really didn’t expect him to respond by saying, “Hell.”
You were stabbing metaphysical pitchforks into Jeonghan’s side, fighting the urge to groan into your hands. Seokmin let out a stilted laugh, pausing for a moment to give Jeonghan time to clarify. When the demon didn't, however, Seokmin probably determined that Jeonghan was messing with him.
“You’re funny,” he praised with a grin. “Anyway, can I get you two started on anything?”
Seokmin had the brightest smile you had ever seen. In fact, he seemed to glow brighter just by showing his teeth. You were almost blown away for a moment, just looking up at him and trying not to stumble over your words as he set your drinks down.
“Um,” you started after regaining your composure, “I’ll take the stuffed ziti fritta, please.”
Seokmin turned to Jeonghan, who nodded in your direction with a distracted look on his face. “Yeah, I’ll get the same.”
“Great! I’ll bring those over soon.” With that, Seokmin took both of your menus and walked off.
You smiled to yourself. “What a small world.”
“I have to kill him,” Jeonghan muttered at the same time.
“Excuse me?” you nearly cried. “Jeonghan, are you crazy? You can’t just say things like that in public!”
“Why not?”
“People are gonna think you’re a homicidal maniac! Which you are, but… at least pretend to be normal.”
“Whatever, we’re alone now.” He rolled his eyes. “Your little friend has angel blood in him.”
“What? You’re crazy.”
But then, when you took a moment to consider his words, the lines were starting to draw themselves. It was starting to make sense in your head, with Jeonghan randomly stopping in the middle of the street, as if he was drawn to the restaurant. There was also Seokmin, who almost had an aura of light radiating from him.
Of course, there was the possibility that the demon was speaking nonsense and trying to get in your head. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for him to deceive you, but there was no reason for him to lie. Jeonghan needed an angel to live longer, so he wouldn’t waste his time dealing with those who weren’t of use.
You asked, “How can you tell if he’s an angel or not?”
“I’m a demon. I can sense these things,” he answered, “but I’m sure you can see some of it, too. You saw how he glowed a bit? Maybe even made you feel a little happy out of nowhere?”
It was true that Seokmin’s smile made you forget all of your worries for a second. You thought his radiance was just contagious, but this sort of made sense now that you were semi-familiar with the supernatural. If angels were able to make people feel contented, though, did that mean demons had the opposite effect?
That could probably explain why Jeonghan got on your nerves so easily.
You leaned over the table a little, whispering, “Wouldn’t he know what you are, then?”
“Doubt he knows it himself. He’s a Quartarion—quarter angel. I bet he doesn’t even know he has wings.”
“So… you can’t use him, right? You need an angel, and he’s mostly human.”
“No, I could kill him, actually,” he replied. “I just need to kill an angel-blood. In fact, killing a Quartarion instead of a pure-blood would make my job a lot easier.”
You felt trapped. It wasn’t like you were in any position to argue about Jeonghan’s decisions, considering it was your fault he was in this state. However, you felt sick to your stomach over getting blood on your hands because of him. Even if you weren’t the one killing Seokmin, it was indirectly your fault.
“You are not killing him,” you said firmly.
“What?” Jeonghan almost sounded like a child. “Not even a little?”
“You can’t kill someone a little.”
“Well, maybe if I sliced his—”
“Okay! Be normal, be normal, be normal,” you chanted, trying to get him to hone in some morals. “No murder, no cannibalism, no—”
“Two stuffed ziti frittas!” Seokmin chirped, shutting you up effectively. You swallowed thickly as he set the plates down in front of you and Jeonghan. “Can I get you two anything else?”
“Yeah, actually,” Jeonghan spoke up, a sly grin spreading across his face, “are you free this week?”
Poor, poor Seokmin, you thought miserably.
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Jeonghan managed to sweet-talk Seokmin into hanging out with you two later in the week. The very idea was absurd, considering you and Seokmin have only spoken about five times. You thought the demon used some sort of demon power to get Seokmin to comply, but Jeonghan later told you that he was just naturally charismatic.
You decided to deal with the Seokmin issue later, though. Now, you had another problem at hand: the proposal you initiated earlier.
Currently, Jeonghan had you pinned up against your door, his head dipping low so that he could look into your eyes despite your efforts to avert your gaze. Jesus, you knew this was a terrible idea, but every nerve in your body was telling you to just go with it.
He hummed. “What was your offer?”
“This isn’t very guardian demon of you,” you squeaked out.
“I just can’t kill you,” he said. “Sex is still on the table.”
This piqued your interest. “Wait… you’re not allowed to kill me?”
That just made you feel like he would’ve murdered you already if he had the chance.
“I could try, but I physically can’t harm you. I can harm others for you, though,” he said. “Now let’s go back to that offer you were going to make.”
“Let me clarify,” he continued, “it’s not the act of intercourse that feeds me, it’s your taste.”
He was basically saying that he needed to eat you out. You would be lying if you said you were opposed to the idea. You weren’t sure if it was the whole devil’s temptation thing or whatever, but you found yourself wanting to just let Jeonghan have his way with you.
You sucked in a sharp breath. Back at the restaurant, you weren’t ready to lay down any guidelines for the exchange. However, it was clear to you now.
“I’ll agree as long as you don’t kill Seokmin.”
The demon pulled away from you, frowning. “Why can’t I kill him?”
“He’s my… friend,” you tried.
“He appears to share a deeper connection with me, a complete stranger, than he does with you, an established acquaintance.”
Okay, ouch. That stung.
“Okay, he’s not really my friend,” you admitted, “but it’ll make me feel really guilty if you kill him. I know you need to kill an angel-blood to get back, but there has to be another way, right?”
Jeonghan’s voice was pitched lower when he said, “I don’t know about that.” Silence hung heavy in the air for a few moments before he spoke up again, “Fine. I’ll accept your offer. I won’t kill Seokmin for now, but I can’t promise that in the future if I’m left with no other choice.”
That was probably the best you were going to get out of him, so you nodded in agreement. “Deal.”
Before the demon could reply, you shimmied down your shorts, kicking them off your ankles, and then you sat back on your bed. You pressed your thighs together, waiting for him to come forward and take the lead.
Jeonghan just stared at you, jaw gone slack.
“What?” you asked with a frown. Slowly, embarrassment started to heat up your cheeks. “You don’t wanna do it anymore?”
“Human, I feel a bit strange doing this with the stuffed animals lined up on your bed.”
“I just had to convince you not to murder my classmate a minute ago, and you draw the line at this?” You sighed in exasperation. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
Jeonghan just moved closer until he was right in front of you. He pushed your legs apart, surprisingly gentle, and he reached his hand between your legs so that he could prod at the thin material of your underwear at the apex of your legs. You shivered instantly at his touch, grabbing his sleeve when you felt your core ache for more.
“I don’t know,” he murmured, observing how wet you were getting with his gentle touches. “You seem to enjoy bickering with me a little too much, human.”
“T-that’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” The question sounded genuine, but the smirk on Jeonghan’s face was unmistakable. You swallowed hard as his free hand traveled up your thigh slowly, inching further and further until he tugged your underwear down past your thighs. You kicked it off your ankles while he started to position you properly on your bed. “What’s ridiculous is having these adorable playthings watching us.”
You turned your head to see your Sanrio MyMelody Squishmallow staring at you with its big, empty eyes and mocking smile. It almost felt like you were being judged by your own plushie.
Okay, you were starting to get why it was capable of freaking a demon out.
You propped yourself up on your forearm and rose up enough to grab your Squishmallow by its bow and turn it around. Now that it was facing the wall, you strangely felt more at ease.
“Okay, now you can go,” you said with a grin.
Jeonghan scoffed, amused. “Thanks.”
“You’re wel—oh,” you moaned, pressing a fist to your mouth when you felt Jeonghan’s tongue work its way between your folds. “Give me a warning next time, damn.”
He paused for a moment to look up at you, mischief twinkling in his dark eyes. “You’re already thinking about the next time, huh?”
“Just shut up and keep doing your thing.” When he raised a brow at you, you added a frantic, “Please?”
This moment may have been the first time Jeonghan had complied so quickly. He got to work right away, gripping your hips and licking a stripe along your cunt. You arched your back once you heard him groan at the taste of your arousal, and the demon had to push you back down to make sure you weren’t fidgeting too much.
You turned your head to the side, digging your chin into the mattress as Jeonghan’s tongue rolled around your clit in torturous motions. You were fighting the urge to cry out in pleasure because you knew you would never hear the end of it from him. Eventually, though, the feeling overtook your pride, and you let yourself moan for more.
Jeonghan was insatiable. That probably came with being a demon, especially when he represented the sin of greed.
But, the thing was, you didn’t expect him to be so mind-blowingly good.
Your sounds must have spurred him because Jeonghan gripped your thighs harder and ate you out with more fervor. It was a back-arching level of pleasure, but he forced you down every time you tried to squirm. When his tongue snaked past your folds, flicking against the walls of your cunt, you truly understood the sheer power of temptation.
Jeonghan didn’t neglect one inch of your core, flattening his tongue so he could cover the surface completely. He switched from plunging his tongue into your cunt to licking long stripes along your slit so quickly that your vision was starting to curl at the edges. You felt like you were going crazy when you grinded your hips against his tongue and felt his smirk.
No man had ever made you feel this good—no, you were positive that no man could ever make you feel this good. Even Jeonghan’s nose brushing against your clit made you feel like you were combusting.
He brought you to the edge so quickly, and you wondered if you had even made yourself orgasm so fast before. The sensation left your legs shaking around his neck and your head turned to the side in a desperate attempt to hold back your moans. You managed to let out strangled whimpers that left Jeonghan chuckling once he pulled away.
You didn’t know what you were expecting, but you felt a touch disappointed when you looked up at him. There was absolutely no hint of a boner tenting his pants.
“I’d ask,” Jeonghan started with a smirk, “but I can already tell you liked it by the way you were moaning for me.”
You raised yourself onto your elbows, huffing a little. “What about you? Are your powers back now?”
“It doesn’t exactly work like that.” Jeonghan patted his stomach, satisfied. “I’m full, though.”
“Interesting.” You left it there, not wanting to divulge further into his demon diet. “So, you don’t ever have sex for pleasure? Just when you’re hungry?”
“I don’t care for pleasure all that much.”
“Figured,” you mumbled. “Anyway, I’m going to sleep.”
“Already?”
“Yeah, I’m tired. Wake me up in a few hours if I’m not already up.”
“Sure. I’ll go do human things and not kill people.”
“Keep up the good work.”
When Jeonghan left your room, you pulled the covers up to your chin and let out a long sigh. The feeling was fleeting, but long enough for you to take notice. A gentle quickening of your heartbeat and a warm feeling in your chest.
You pushed it down as a brief moment of confusion.
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Living with Jeonghan felt like having a guard dog that you kept off its leash.
Not only did you have to stop him from attempting murder on several occasions, but, on the flip side, you also had to warn him about being too nice to make up for his twisted imagination. Jeonghan was far too attractive to be human, and from the numerous times you went outside with him, you realized that he drew too much attention. You were left standing to the side idly while he was chatted up by the umpteenth random girl that wanted his number.
Over the past week, you ended up explaining a lot of things to the demon. Going into depth about the criminal justice system was your favorite because Jeonghan looked flabbergasted by the levels of punishment they had.
(“A six month sentence for theft?” he asked with a frown. “That’s absurd. I got eternity in Hell while being boiled alive in oil!”
“Well, what was your crime?” you asked.
“Uh…”)
Once, you even found him staring at the TV screen with a somber expression on his face. You had never seen Jeonghan so visibly upset, so you asked him what was going on, only to be even more confused when he explained that his pet died. You suspected the demon’s pet to be a hellhound or something. Never did you expect him to pull up a picture of Mount Fuji.
(“His name was Doljjong,” he explained sadly. “He was only 1,359 years old when he erupted for the last time.”
Apparently, Mount Fuji was now extinct. In Jeonghan’s crazy demon lingo, that meant it died.
“You basically had a pet rock, dude.”
“He was more than a rock in my heart.”)
You also had to adjust to living with another man in the house. Thankfully, Jeonghan wasn’t messy or as disgusting as you had expected, but you still had to adjust to some of his living habits that took you by surprise.
For one, Jeonghan preferred showering in scorching hot water. This would not bother you if you hadn’t been dragged into the shower with him on one occasion, which he didn’t seem to think was improper at all. While you were trying not to look at his (beautifully-chiseled) naked body, he was urging you to help him turn down the cold water. As soon as your skin made contact with the water, though, you couldn’t stand the scalding heat.
Strangely enough, although the thought of having a demon in your house terrified you, it was kind of fun to live with him. You liked having someone around that could keep up with your antics, someone who challenged your thirst for argument. Jeonghan was the perfect match for you, and maybe that was why he was your assigned demon.
You finally decided to give him your old phone. It was supposed to be a hand-me-down for your younger brother, but your parents ended up getting him a new one. Since Jeonghan was pretty much ancient, you figured he wouldn’t mind an old phone.
“I want an iPhone 14 Pro Max.”
“What?!” you exclaimed as he took the used iPhone 8 from you, inspecting the home button with a frown. “How do you even know what that is?”
“I wasn’t born yesterday, human.” He scoffed. “I don’t care for outdated possessions.”
Oh, right. Greed.
“Well, if you’re gonna live in my house, then you’re gonna learn to be grateful for what you’ve got.”
“Wait.” Jeonghan paused, looking between you and the phone about three times before he asked, “Can I contact Seokmin with this?”
“Uh, yeah, but—”
“Give me his number,” the demon insisted.
“Jeonghan! You said you weren’t going to kill him!”
“I never said I was going to kill him,” he said, “but I did invite him to hang out, so I should follow up on the offer. Didn’t you tell me that keeping promises is important?”
Ah, right. He was using one of the rules from Y/N’s Guide To Being Human against you. You saw this coming, though; you were no stranger to Jeonghan’s manipulation tactics by now.
“Keeping promises are important, but leading someone on is also wrong,” you chided. “Do not text him if you plan on hurting him in any way.”
He let out a petulant whine before agreeing, “Okay, okay, I won’t.” He thrusted the phone in your direction. “Give me his number, though.”
You bit your lip before you complied. “Fine.”
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A few days later, when you had just gotten back from getting lunch with your best friend, Park Sooyoung, you entered your apartment to see Seokmin sitting on the couch.
“Oh!” you exclaimed. You were so startled that you couldn’t even process how furious you were with Jeonghan for inviting him without informing you. “Hey, Seokmin. What’re you doing here?”
The older boy flashed a kind smile. “Sorry to intrude. Jeonghan invited me. I think he’s in the bathroom right now.” He pointed in the direction of where Jeonghan went, and then he said, “I had no idea you two were roommates!”
You recalled last week when you asked Jeonghan if demons had to use the bathroom like humans did. For some reason, you couldn’t imagine it at all. The demon answered that he didn’t have to do such things in his own dimension, but his body was subjected to the same biological system as humans on Earth.
“Ah, yes. Roommates.” You forced a laugh, trying to not sound bitter. So that was the narrative Jeonghan cooked up. Honestly, you were just glad he said something normal. “He didn’t tell me you were coming over.”
“Ah, speak of the devil,” Seokmin said.
Meanwhile, it was just Jeonghan. Well, on second thought, he was kind of right.
“What’re you doing at home?” the demon asked, sounding more accusatory than welcoming. “I thought you were getting lunch with your friend.”
“And we finished lunch,” you answered. “What’re you and Seokmin doing?”
“We were gonna watch a movie,” he said. “The Notebook, I think?”
Your anger fizzled. Now, you felt like you were interrupting something.
“Do you wanna watch it with us, Y/N?” Seokmin asked, voice all sugary and light.
You found it way too hard to refuse him, so you sat down on the couch next to Jeonghan. Every time Seokmin spoke, you felt your nerves ease up. However, coupled with Jeonghan’s presence, you were undergoing a never-ending state of easing and tensing up again.
“By the way, why’d you guys pick The Notebook?” you inquired.
“Oh, ‘cause Jeonghan hasn’t seen it yet,” Seokmin replied, looking distracted as the film started playing.
Jeonghan hadn’t seen a lot of movies. It wasn’t like there were limited options to choose from.
Thankfully, the lights were off while the movie played, masking how bored you looked for its duration. You were convinced Jeonghan wasn’t enjoying it either considering he started up about ten different conversations unrelated to the movie. Seokmin, being the sweetheart he was, responded to him enthusiastically as he watched. You, on the other hand, were sulking on the other side of the couch and praying for this to be over because you felt like a third wheel.
You almost didn’t notice the mood shift when the kissing scene came up. Seokmin seemed to feel a bit awkward, so he laughed and made lighthearted remarks throughout the scene. You had stiffened up and lowered your gaze, remembering once again why this was an odd choice for a movie night.
Jeonghan, though, turned his gaze to you for the duration of the scene. You could feel his eyes drift to your lips, and it made you hyperconscious of every little movement of his. Your heart was pounding so loudly that you were praying no one else could hear it, and the blood rushing in your ears drowned out the audio from the movie.
The demon dipped his head to whisper in your ear, “Frankly, human, I’m enjoying your reactions more than this movie.”
You had no idea why, but you felt something unsettling in your chest. Your heart felt like it was going a hundred miles a minute, but not in a good way; the organ twisted painfully in your chest.
You had no idea why.
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Seokmin came around a few more times over the next four weeks. You found yourself feeling less like a third wheel over time, and you were finally comfortable hanging around the both of them. Movie nights became more common, although The Notebook seemed to be so traumatizing that Seokmin and Jeonghan only watched horror and sci-fi movies now.
You were honestly surprised that Jeonghan hadn’t made any moves to kill Seokmin, but you were happy that he honored your agreement. The two of you had gotten closer—or, well, as close as a demon and a human could get. He still called you “human,” but you were banking on him calling you by your name at least once. Moreover, Jeonghan wasn’t completely convincing just yet, but he was starting to learn how to act like a proper human. (There were the occasional murder threats that you had to fend off, though.)
Jeonghan found himself between your legs nearly every other day. You feared that you would get too comfortable, but he still made you orgasm every single time. It was strange, to say the least. You knew demons weren’t capable of feeling anything remotely romantic, but your heart was still acting like a fool, twisting painfully whenever he pulled away.
Today, Jeonghan had followed you to the library. He met your friend, Sooyoung, who kept gushing earlier about how she was dying to meet your new “friend.” The rest of the day went smoothly, save for Sooyoung asking you and Jeonghan if you’ve ever made out. (You shut her up with a smack upside her head.)
Back at home, Jeonghan, who was sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, leaned his head back to look up at you. You found it strangely endearing, resisting the urge to run your hands through his soft hair.
“Did I do good today?” he asked.
“Yeah,” you said, “you were like a proper human—no weird demonic antics or anything.”
Jeonghan lifted his head up again, and then asked in a quiet voice, “Human, could I perhaps try something?”
The demon was asking you for permission? Strange, but you went along with it.
“Hm? What is it?”
“Let me try kissing you,” he said. His words were so clear that you couldn’t even pass them off as something you misheard. You only managed to let out a few incoherent stammers before he added, “Move your laptop. I’m getting on top of you.”
“Y-you didn’t even ask me!” you stuttered, although you were putting your stuff to the side as you spoke. “Is this about what Sooyoung asked? About if we’ve made out?”
“I’m asking you right now: yes or no?”
You frowned. It was as if all your nerves were cut wire, electrifying every limb in your body. Even though you couldn’t comprehend what came over Jeonghan and what possessed him to ask, your brain was screaming at you to just accept his offer.
“Fine, go ahead,” you murmured, feeling your face go hot when he smirked right after.
“Good,” he said. “Thank you for being my experiment.”
You couldn’t ask any further questions because Jeonghan already started moving on top of you, straddling your lap and placing his hands firmly on either side of your face. You stared up at him, wide-eyed, until he leaned down and brushed his nose against yours experimentally.
He was so close. So close that you could feel his hot breath fanning your lips. So close that you could see the gold flecks in his dark eyes.
You shuddered. There was that twist of your heart once again.
You swore you could hear his breath hitch, and you almost called it out before a crevice started opening up in the center of your living room.
“What the fuck?” you shrieked, scrambling back against the arm of the couch and holding up one of the throw pillows to defend yourself. Jeonghan had gotten off of you and stood up, eyebrows knitted into a frown. It looked like he knew what was going on, so you asked, “What is it, Jeonghan?”
It was the same void of darkness from before—the same one that Jeonghan came from. The room was freezing this time, too, and the windows had iced over. You swallowed hard, wondering if this was one of your mistakes again. You hadn’t said or done anything this time, though, so it must have been someone here for Jeonghan.
From the wisps of smoke emerged the most beautiful man you had ever seen. Or, well, second after Jeonghan.
“Mammon, you bastard.” Second-Most Beautiful Man scowled. “If this is one of your conniving plots to escape Hell, then you will face punishment worse than being boiled alive for damnation.”
You looked to your right to see Jeonghan with his arms folded across his chest. Smiling.
“Asmodeus,” your demon greeted with coldness in his tone, “you planted that scrap of paper in my human’s book, didn’t you?”
Asmodeus’ glower slowly morphed into a wicked grin. “You don’t leave any room for entertainment, do you? I came here to drag you back, anyway, so don’t be so bitter.” His red, beady eyes shifted to you. “This must be your precious human.”
Jeonghan’s voice was deeper when he warned, “Don’t you dare lay a finger on her, Asmodeus.”
“Or what?” he mocked. “What could you possibly do to me in that pathetic human body of yours? Have you gone soft already? Your powers have weakened, Mammon. Face it. You’ll die out here—no, you’re already dying.”
“What do you want?” Jeonghan snapped. “If you want me dead, then you have no need to be here.”
“I need you alive,” Asmodeus muttered, “in your true form.”
He scoffed. “I’ll just die and be reborn.”
Reborn? You straightened up at Jeonghan’s words. Why didn’t he tell you he would be reborn? Here you were, like an idiot, worrying over his possible death.
“The other five princes are requesting to see you, so—”
“Oh, why should I give a damn about the other princes?” Jeognhan fussed. “They only care about using me for their trivial schemes!”
“Jeonghan,” you spoke up loudly, and both of the demon princes turned to you with shocked looks on their faces. “If I’m interpreting this correctly… then aren’t you being offered an easy way to get back? You should take it, right?”
“Human—”
“Oh, I forgot you go by your human name here,” Asmodeus said with a chuckle. He walked toward you and reached his hand out, smiling so wide that his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. You can call me Joshua, if that’s easier. I’m the demon prince of lust.”
“How do you know my name?” you asked, cautiously shaking his hand. You looked toward Jeonghan with a scowl. “Wait, how does he know my name and you didn’t?”
“My bad.”
“You’ve truly gone soft, Mammon,” Asmodeus observed. “You’re on Earth entertaining a human girl instead of doing your job back in Hell. Aren’t you the one who told the rest of us to be happy with what we’ve got in Hell?”
“My job,” Jeonghan corrected, “is rotting in Hell. My other job is taking care of my human.”
“Your allegiance is with the princes, Mammon,” Joshua hissed. “This human is insignificant—”
“Do not speak about my human with that filthy mouth of yours, Asmodeus,” Jeonghan interrupted sharply, his eyes darkening. “Tell me what you want from me and leave this place at once.”
“Pythius wants a seat with the Seven Princes.”
Jeonghan raised a brow. “He wants to rebrand to the Eight Princes? Doesn’t have as nice of a ring to it.”
“No, you idiot.” Joshua groaned. “He wants to overthrow one of the Seven Princes, which is why you need to come back. Greed must have a seat at the throne room of sins.”
“Tell him to go ahead. He can be boiled alive in my place.”
“You’re still on that? That was eons ago.” Joshua sighed. “Don’t be a fool, Mammon. If you die on Earth—sure, you’ll be reborn in Hell again, but you will still waste your time by dying on this planet.” He continued, “Think about how disastrous the situation would be if Pythius actually takes your place. You will be stripped of your title, your powers will weaken, and greed will no longer be one of the Seven Deadly Sins.”
“Doesn’t sound too bad, honestly.”
“Mammon,” Joshua growled. “Take this seriously. You’re acting like Belphegor with that flippant attitude of yours.”
“Ah, Belphegor.” Jeonghan turned to you with a light laugh. “I think you’d like him. He goes by Wonwoo here. Seriously, such a—”
“I will slice up each limb of that mortal body of yours, Mammon,” Joshua warned. “You’re not understanding the severity of this situation.”
“I understand it well enough now,” he replied. “So, you can leave. I’ll figure out what to do on my own. Either way, Mammon will be reborn as usual. Happy? Good, now get lost.”
Joshua sighed, frustrated. “Do you even have a way to get back, you fool?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“Then I’ll be on my way,” Joshua said before his body started to tessellate out of existence, vanishing piece-by-piece into thin air. “I really hope you know what you’re doing, Mammon.”
You were the first to break the silence once the demon of lust disappeared, asking, “You’ll be reborn? So you never even had to worry about dying?”
“Demons can be killed, but they can’t die.”
“Oh, yeah, thanks. Really cleared things up for me with that.”
“Let’s just drop it.”
You couldn’t just drop it, though. “You weren’t actually imprisoned in Hell, were you?”
“I was. Sort of.” He paused. “Haven’t been for a while, to be honest.”
“Then why didn’t you go with Joshua? It doesn’t sound like he wants you back to throw you back in the lake.”
“I don’t want to be a pawn in their silly games anymore,” Jeonghan muttered darkly. “It’s infuriating.”
“Then what are you gonna do? That was the easiest way for you to get back!”
“I have time, human.” Jeonghan didn’t seem to want to be pressed further, so you backed off. “Don’t worry about me.”
He walked into your room and slammed the door shut, so you settled back into the couch and hugged the throw pillow to your chest. How could you not worry? You couldn’t understand Jeonghan at all, and although you wanted to respect his decision not to go back with Joshua, you were at a crossroads; staying here was killing him. He had far too much pride to think rationally.
Plus, the longer he stayed with you, the more it stung when you realized time was running out. Fast.
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The next day, Jeonghan appeared as if he was back to normal. It was odd, though, given how he was brooding yesterday. You made a conscious effort not to mention Joshua, but you knew the topic was still weighing heavy on his shoulders.
(He was insatiable once you were awake and sitting up in bed, prying your legs open and begging you for a taste. Although you had several questions for the demon, your carnal desire overtook whatever curiosity you had.
“Feeling better?” you asked cautiously.
“I’ll feel better soon. Anyway, good morning,” he purred. “You’re dripping already, human. I haven’t even touched you yet.”
Your chest felt hot. “Yeah, yeah, just get to it.”
“My pleasure.”)
“Hey,” you called out later during breakfast. “I’m going out with Sooyoung tonight. Are you gonna be okay being alone at home?”
“Where are you going?” he asked instead.
You paused between your spoonfuls of cereal. “Uh, just a party.”
“I love parties,” Jeonghan said. “Will there be human sacrifices?”
You grimaced. Although your guardian demon was making impressive improvements on his transition to human life, there were still some flaws in his way of thinking. On the bright side, though, he made sure to pass his morbid comments by you before he tried them out in front of others.
“No, it’s a college party,” you replied. “The most deadly thing there will be alcohol and Old Spice.”
“Boring,” he mused before getting up from his seat and heading to the living room. “Well, be safe.”
You nearly choked on your cereal, completely forgetting to respond to his words. Did Jeonghan—Mammon, manifestation of greed, one of the Seven Princes of Hell—just tell you to be safe? You had to be hearing things.
Or, your heart offered, maybe some part of him cares about you—deep, deep down.
You pushed down the thought entirely, forcing yourself to think of other alternatives. After all, there was no possible way for a demon to feel those sorts of emotions.
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It was almost midnight and Sooyoung was passed out on the couch.
“You’re fucking kidding me,” you said in dismay. “We literally just got here.”
“That’s tough,” Kim Mingyu, president of Sigma Omega Nu, replied sympathetically. “At least her boyfriend’s here to take care of her. That means you need to drink more and get on her level.”
“That sounds like a terrible idea.”
“Hey, that’s what college is for.”
You whined when Mingyu handed you a new cup of jungle juice. Normally, you didn’t accept drinks from strangers; Mingyu was harmless, though, and you two were well-established friends for a few years now. However, you were on your third cup of juice by now, and, if you kept it up, you were probably going to end up like Sooyoung. Since she was the one who drove you two here, though, you had to stay sober enough to find a ride home. No matter what happened, you were determined to not fall asleep on the musty frat house couch.
(It already happened once last year. You woke up the next morning to Kwon Soonyoung yelling, “Someone take a picture of Y/N sleeping on the couch I got laid on!”)
“I can’t get drunk,” you insisted. “I have to get home.” To make sure my pet demon is behaving, you wanted to add.
Mingyu let out a snicker. “Call someone to pick you up or I can ask one of the sober monitors to drop you off.”
You pondered for a moment. Technically, you could call Jeonghan. Now that he had gotten the hang of using his phone, you saw him texting Seokmin every once in a while. You were sure he would be able to pick up a call, as well.
“Fine, whatever. Hand it over.” You took the red solo cup from him and downed its contents—just under ten seconds, counted by Mingyu himself. “I’m gonna go call my friend before this starts hitting me.”
You walked out into the backyard where the music wasn’t as loud. The cool air hitting your flushed skin made you feel like you could breathe properly again, but you still weren’t walking nearly straight enough. With careful hands, you searched up Jeonghan’s number in your contacts.
Your phone rang three times before he picked up.
“Human? Are you dead?”
You frowned. “If I was dead, how would I be calling you?”
“I was hoping I could keep your soul around as my pet in Hell,” he said.
You must have had some sort of degradation kink by this point because that comment was not supposed to make you feel butterflies in your stomach. It was time for you to consider therapy.
You cut straight to the point. “Can you come to the party?”
“What? No.”
His refusal normally would’ve stung, but you were too tipsy to back down now. “Please? Sooyoung already passed out and her boyfriend’s taking care of her. I’m getting drunk all by myself now.”
Sort of an exaggeration. You were going to use every card up your sleeve.
“Then walk home.”
“I can’t. Home’s too far to walk.”
“Then sleep over at whoever’s house you’re at.”
“It’s a house full of frat boys. Their living conditions are probably worse than yours down in Hell.”
“Then sober up.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be my guardian demon?!”
“If you want an angel to come rescue you, I would try Seokmin’s number.”
You let out a groan and crouched down, letting your head hang between your knees. This was fruitless; Jeonghan was stubborn as a mule, and you were getting nowhere with this conversation.
But this wasn’t just about getting someone to take you home. You certainly had other options, so you could hang up on Jeonghan right now and find someone else to drive you back. However, you just didn’t want to admit out loud that you wanted to see Jeonghan. You wanted him to come over and take care of you, even though that was impossible for the demon.
You were just foolish.
“Fine, Jeonghan,” you snapped. Your head started to feel fuzzy, and you were quickly losing control over your own tongue. “I’ll get home all by myself. I’ll walk home in the cold, dark night, and hell, I’ll even walk on the road if I feel like it. Maybe I’ll lay down and take a nap if I get really tired, and if I can’t even make it to the door, I’ll just sleep in Mingyu’s bed—” You didn’t realize you were pacing until you hit a solid surface. “Ow—wait, what the hell?”
Jeonghan, in the flesh, sighed heavily and hung up the call in front of you. “Human, you’re really such a pain in the ass sometimes.”
“H-how’d you get here?” you asked, your cheeks starting to feel hot. “Did you teleport or whatever again? Didn’t you say that eats up your power? Are you—”
The demon clamped a hand over your mouth. “I materialized here, and yes, it eats up the little power I have left,” he whispered harshly, “but you wouldn’t stop running your mouth, so here I am. How could you get intoxicated so easily?”
“Well… I’ve been here for about an hour,” you defended. “It doesn’t take that much for me to get drunk. I’m pretty lightweight.”
“How much did you have?”
“Like, three cups of jungle juice.”
“Jungle… juice?”
You snorted. “This one’s got vodka, rum, and fruit punch. It’s pretty good.”
“Three cups?” Jeonghan asked with a scoff. “I forget that humans have such weak tolerances for alcohol. I can drink eight bottles of wine without getting drunk.”
“Oh yeah?” you challenged. You dragged the demon inside the frat house, not giving him the chance to take in and process his surroundings. You poured him a cup of jungle juice in the kitchen and handed it to him. “Drink up, then.”
Jeonghan raised a brow at you before chugging down the liquid like water. He handed it back to you with a light smirk playing on his lips.
“Are you sure there’s even alcohol in this concoction?” he asked, barking out a laugh. “Human, you’re too cute. This is nothing for a powerful demon like…” he trailed off, looking down at his feet and letting out a soft exhale. “My chest feels hot.”
Your hand flew up to cover your mouth, stopping yourself from bursting out into laughter. This sight was absolutely priceless. You didn’t think you would ever be able to see Jeonghan so vulnerable.
“Are you drunk off one cup of jungle juice?” you asked, and, at this point, you weren’t able to stifle your laughter. “Oh my god!”
“Shut up, human,” he grumbled. He blinked a few times and held onto the edge of the counter. “I’ve never felt this way before. My body isn’t used to having a human’s biological system.”
“Whoa, this guy is fucked,” Lee Chan retorted, showing up out of nowhere. “He’s talking like something out of I, Robot.”
You rolled your eyes at his pop culture reference, but Jeonghan didn’t seem to follow at all. For all the movies he and Seokmin had been watching, you were surprised that they didn’t get around to this one.
“Robot,” Jeonghan mumbled, moving to lean against you. You grabbed his arm and tried to hold him steady, but he just wrapped his arms around you and let his head rest on your shoulder. “I feel like I’ve just been expelled into the Outerverse with Yog-Sothoth. Ah, fuck, those guys owe me…”
You had to get Jeonghan out of here fast. Before he started speaking crazy demon lingo again.
“Are you sober monitoring tonight?” you asked Chan. “You think you could drive us home?”
“Yeah, sure,” Chan agreed with a smile. Gauging that Jeonghan wasn’t responsive enough to answer any questions, the frat boy decided to ask you, “Did you bring a friend from another school, Y/N?”
“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” you mumbled. “This is Jeonghan.”
Chan ducked his head to get a good look at Jeonghan’s face. “Nice to meet you, Jeonghan.”
“Hi, Robot.”
“No, my name’s not Robot.”
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Jeonghan’s biggest weakness wound up being seatbelts.
You and Chan had to fight him down to get him to sit down properly in the back seat. Since he was fussing too much, you decided to sit with Chan up front, letting Jeonghan moan and grumble incoherently in the back.
(“Unchain me, human,” the demon kept whining. “I refuse to be imprisoned in the mortal realm.”
When he was stopped at a red light, Chan threw a glance over his shoulder before telling you, “I think your friend watches too much anime.”
“He’s going through a phase,” you lied.)
While you made light conversation with the frat brother, you felt like your guardian demon was glaring daggers at the poor boy. You wanted to smack him upside the head for his rudeness despite Chan’s generous act.
You craned your neck to look back at Jeonghan, shooting him a warning look. He simply scoffed and looked the other way, although he ended up resting his head against the window once he realized his world was still spinning.
“Come on, Jeonghan,” you murmured once Chan parked the car in front of your place. “Get up.”
“Don’t wanna.”
You tugged the sleeve of his shirt impatiently. “What? Why?”
“Not going back with someone who ignores me.”
Your jaw nearly went slack. Was he jealous? Yoon Jeonghan, Prince of Greed, was jealous over frat boy Lee Chan? Over something so miniscule as you sitting in the passenger’s seat? This was definitely something you were going to hold over the demon’s head for as long as you could.
“I’m not ignoring you, okay?” you tried. “Come back home with me, and you’ll have my full attention.”
Jeonghan hesitated before he let out a begrudged grumble. “Fine.”
You and Chan hauled the drunken demon to his feet, taking one of his arms and throwing it over your shoulders so that you could help him walk. Chan assisted you by slinging Jeonghan’s other arm over his shoulder, but you still found it hard to walk properly with Jeonghan’s head lolling to the side. His face was so close that you could feel his hot breath against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.
“You smell so good, human,” he murmured. Jesus, he was saying all this while Chan was still here? You were glad that Jeonghan couldn’t tell how flustered you were, but it was probably evident to Chan. “What perfume is that?”
“This guy sure does call you ‘human’ a lot,” Chan observed with a light laugh.
“Uh, yeah, inside joke,” you explained quickly. “Let’s just get him to the couch.”
Once you and Chan let Jeonghan’s heavy body drop onto the couch, you walked the frat boy to the door. He stuffed his hands deep in his pockets, a shy smile playing on his lips. He looked at you expectantly, like he was waiting for a tip or something. You were considering handing him the crumpled-up five dollars you left in your back pocket.
“We should hang out sometime, Y/N,” he started. “I feel like I barely see you around the house anymore.”
“Oh, yeah, I haven’t been in a partying mood lately,” you explained, “but I’ll try to drop by more.”
“Alright. I’ll see you around.”
Before you could respond, a voice from behind you loudly interjected, “Bye.” With that, Jeonghan slammed the door shut with one hand.
“That was rude,” you said.
“Can I gut him like a fish?”
“That’s even more rude. Please don’t.”
“Whatever.”
You looked back at Jeonghan, who had one hand against the door that was right beside your head. “What’s your deal? He was nice enough to drive you back and help you to the couch.”
“Why do you keep ignoring me?” he asked, proceeding to ignore you at the same time.
“I-I’m not ignoring you!” you stammered. “I’m the one who helped you get back to the apartment!”
He had you backed up against the door, looking up at him with worry knitting your brows together. Jeonghan let his head drop to lay on your shoulder, leaving you frozen in place. You figured it was the alcohol rushing to his head, but you couldn’t help the fact that your heart was pounding in your chest.
“Human,” he mumbled against your collarbone, “why can’t you just stay by my side?”
“Huh? But—”
“I wanna be human, too.”
The words sounded strange coming from him. Almost like he was at his tipping point. Tender. Raw. Vulnerable. You were absolutely dumbfounded by what you had just heard. With no coherent response coming to mind, all you could do was raise your hand to gently thread through his soft strands of hair.
“Let’s get you to bed,” you replied softly, letting the demon stay in your embrace as you walked him back to your bedroom. He looked up at you quizzically when you sat him down on the edge of your bed. “It’s about time you stopped sleeping on the floor. I’ll take the couch, so—”
You cut yourself off when Jeonghan wrapped his arms around your legs and pressed his lips to your thighs. “Stay here with me.”
You stared ahead, straight at the wall, a dull ache throbbing in your chest. “What are you doing, Jeonghan?”
“What?”
“Why are you doing this to me?” you asked. “You only have months left to live. You should’ve just gone back with Joshua.”
He stiffened. “I didn’t want to.”
“Yeah, I guess you’ll just be reborn, anyway,” you muttered. “You never had anything to worry about to begin with.”
Jeonghan suddenly pulled away from you, his eyes cold as ice. Since he was always docile around you, there was never any reason for you to feel scared around the demon. However, the look he was giving you left you backing up slowly from him.
“I’d rather stay dead than be reborn,” Jeonghan said, “and I wouldn’t feel so agonized about it if I didn’t have to meet you.”
Tears pricked your eyes. You felt a lump rising in your throat, and you felt the hot, salty tears hitting your feet before you even realized you had started to cry. It took all of your willpower to keep the waterworks at bay. The demon’s cruel words were never supposed to get under your skin this bad. You held him at arm’s length for that very reason.
Maybe, all this time, you had been pulling him closer unintentionally.
“You think nothing hurts for me just because I’m a demon,” he continued, “but it stings every time you try to chase me away.”
“I’m not trying to chase you away.”
“Then why do you keep pushing me to go back to Hell?” he asked. You couldn’t exactly read his expression, but it was clear that Jeonghan felt tormented. The pain in his eyes was telling of that. “Why did you want me to go back with Asmodeus?”
You huffed. “I really don’t understand you. You don’t want to die and be reborn, but you don’t want to go to Hell either? Aren’t you going to die if you stay here?”
“You don’t get it.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to be reborn because I lose all my memories of the mortal world. I lose all my memories of you.”
“And you don’t want to go to Hell because…”
“The only reason you summoned me was because of Asmo—I mean, Joshua’s—need for pointless entertainment. Surely, with what’s been going down in Hell ever since I left, they won’t let me leave again until Pythius is quelled. That could take hundreds or thousands of years.” Jeonghan scoffed, shaking his head. “Pythius… one of the most fearsome and hideous demons. There’s no telling what he’d do for a seat with the Seven Princes.”
“I’m sure if I go back, he would try to kill me over and over again,” he continued, “because he detests me the most. That group of them—the Malebranche—they might be more sadistic than Lucifer himself.”
You frowned. “What’d you do to him?”
“Why do you assume I did something to him?” Jeonghan scowled.
“Because you’re the demon prince of greed,” you replied. “I’m sure you pissed him off somehow.”
He snorted. “Pythius rules the eighth circle where frauds are punished. He hates nothing more than the greed that consumes those humans. Of course he’d loathe the demon that represents the very sin.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen you act that greedy here, though. Are you different when you’re down there?”
The dark glint in Jeonghan’s eyes nearly went undetected. You only managed to catch it because of the way his smile dropped in tune. His normally easygoing expression was replaced with the same serious look he wore when Joshua was around.
“I haven’t been this greedy in eons, human.”
You tried to think back to when Jeonghan had acted in such a way. Sure, there were the multiple times he gave you (mind-blowing) head and the time he asked you for the newest iPhone, but those didn’t seem as drastic to you. You expected the very demon of greed to be more selfish.
“Really?” You forced out a stilted laugh. “I think you’re about as greedy as a toddler, like, in a bratty way, but that’s it.”
Jeonghan stood up.
You took notice of his broad shoulders before, but now you felt swamped under his gaze. He towered over you with ease, looking down at you with a storm brewing in his eyes. There were no words exchanged at first, but one look at the demon told you that whatever he was experiencing was far too human for him to understand fully.
“I’m so greedy that I would let the hierarchy in Hell fall to shambles because of you,” he started. “I would abandon my seat and let Pythius take control just so I can stay here with you. I would rather wither away on Earth instead of going back to Hell where I can’t see you again. I would let Alastor, the chief executioner, torture me over and over again until the ache in my heart finally goes away—the ache you caused.”
His next words were no louder than a weak whisper when he grabbed your forearms and said, “I’m so greedy that I wanna just give up everything for you, Y/N.”
With that, Jeonghan muttered something about sleeping on the couch before he walked out of your room and shut the door. That was the first time he had ever called you by your name; yet, it didn’t even make you feel happy. The first salty tear hit the floorboards, then the next, then more. You could only watch the demon leave in silence, finally letting yourself cry once he was out of sight.
Crying because you didn’t want him to leave. Crying because your feelings were already running too deep.
Crying because you knew a botched confession when you heard one.
Just as you were about to settle in bed, burrow yourself in the sheets and sob until you fell asleep, you heard Jeonghan’s footsteps coming back from the living room. You had no time to regain your composure when he flung open the door, his eyes stony and his lips pulled down in a frown.
“I can’t sleep if you’re crying like this,” he murmured, walking over to cup your face with his large hands. “That’s foul play.”
He kissed you.
The motion was swift—a gentle grab of your jaw and tilt of your chin, and Jeonghan was kissing away your disquiet with surprising tenderness.
Temptation.
Temptation was the utmost desire that demons could draw from mortals, but you weren’t quite sure this was it. Jeonghan’s kiss felt different—more intimate. His lips moved against yours with hesitance at first, and he only deepened it once you reciprocated. It felt like he wasn’t trying to pull you closer; rather, he was waiting for you to find him.
Once you two were lost in desperate kisses and heavy breaths, Jeonghan jerked away with a light gasp. You stared at him, dazed, before he grabbed your wrist and pressed your hand firmly against his chest. At first, you weren’t quite sure what he was having you do, but the realization was a slap in the face.
A heartbeat.
Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.
It was fast, like he had just run a marathon. You looked up at the demon quizzically, but he was already pulling away. Your hand hung in the air before dropping to your side, registering too late that he had already let go.
“You think nothing hurts me,” he mumbled. This time, he had his own hand flat against his chest. “I torture myself every day like this because I know, deep down, there’s no happy ending for us.” The demon’s eyes, normally masked with golden brown irises, glowed a dim red.
It started drizzling outside. Soft pattering of rain that drowned out the silence.
Everything would fall apart—slowly, gently, inevitably. Jeonghan, too, would eventually become nothing but a ghost of a raindrop that once streaked your window.
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Post-party hangovers always called for breakfast at The Veranda. It became a tradition between you and Sooyoung to go there after a night of partying. That, or you two would skip straight to lunch and get pho. There was no telling when either of you would wake up the next morning.
Today, however, Sooyoung texted you early enough.
“We should get cocktails,” she suggested while looking down the menu.
“You already blacked out last night, you crazy bitch.”
To be frank, you had ulterior motives for this outing. For one, you wanted to get out of the house because the tension between you and Jeonghan was making you suffocate. The other reason was because you wanted to consult Sooyoung with your problems.
You started with, “So, there’s this guy,” and your best friend was already at the edge of her seat. Once you finished giving her the rundown (which only concluded after you ordered your food and were halfway done with your herb roasted chicken sandwich), Sooyoung paused to think, which stretched into about five minutes. More than enough time for you to finish your sandwich.
“I don’t get what the problem is,” Sooyoung finally said, tilting her head curiously. “If you two like each other, then just ask him out.”
If only it were that easy, you thought to yourself, but you couldn’t spare her the details of how impossible the situation was. You weren’t in the mood to hear “if he wanted to, he would” when you were dealing with a guardian demon who was literally dying in the mortal world.
You hesitated. “Let’s just say that he’s not exactly available right now.”
“He has a girlfriend?” Sooyoung asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. She looked ready to start telling you off for being a homewrecker, so you had to clarify immediately.
“No, no, he’s single,” you said. “He’s just not… emotionally available to date.”
“So, he’s been getting all close to you without wanting to date you.”
“Uh, not really? He’s just—”
“Cut him off, Y/N.”
“What?” you asked, eyes widening. You figured the situation sounded bad from an outsider’s perspective, but there was no way for you to break it down without explaining that Jeonghan’s your guardian demon from Hell that ended up being trapped on Earth because of your statistics midterm and demonic intervention from Joshua, the other oddball from Hell. “I can’t do that.”
“Sure you can,” Sooyoung replied. “It’ll hurt at first, but you’ll get over it eventually.”
“But he’s…” you trailed off, wondering how the fuck you were going to defend a demon prince of greed. You settled with saying, “He’s funny.”
“So are clowns, Y/N. You don’t see me asking out Ronald McDonald.”
“Okay, it’s not that simple, Sooyoung!” you cried out. “It’s more like… he doesn’t have that much time left here.”
“Oh.” She sounded lost at first, but the confused look on her face was slowly replaced with somber understanding. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“No, you’re good. I didn’t know how to say it.”
“Well, if that’s the case,” she said, “why don’t you just make the most of the time you have left with him?”
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Sooyoung’s words hadn’t left your mind ever since breakfast. Even after she dropped you off at your apartment, you were still replaying the conversation in your head.
You thought about it in the shower.
You thought about it while doing your homework.
And you continued to think about it when Jeonghan was spreading your legs apart later that day.
“Didn’t we just fight?” you asked, your voice unnaturally high. Despite your words, you came to realize that you were sort of feral when it came to your sex life. A little fight was just a chip on your shoulder.
“That was a fight?” Jeonghan asked. “I’ve been in fights before. They’re pretty gruesome. Usually some heads roll or someone gets disemboweled.”
“A verbal fight,” you clarified.
“I’ve been in verbal fights before, too. They usually end with someone getting stabbed.”
“Okay, well, that’s not a verbal fight.” You sighed. “I mean, aren’t you upset with me? You were acting like being around me was hurting you.”
Jeonghan looked down and went completely silent.
“Hello?” you called. Did you break him?
Jeonghan looked back up. This time, his cheeks were tinged scarlet red. Your eyes went wide at the sight of the demon fully blushing over your words. You were definitely adding this bullet point to the Blackmail on Jeonghan folder you kept in your Notes app.
“I let my emotions get the best of me, okay?” he mumbled. “Let's just drop it.”
You, however, were brimming with questions. “Hey, but you let me feel your heartbeat last night,” you started. “Did you always have a heart?”
Jeonghan pulled away to look at you with distaste dawning on his face. “Did I always have a heart? Of course I’ve always had a heart, human. How would I be giving you the head of your life if I was a corpse?”
Your demon was gradually evolving to develop a filthy mouth. You weren’t sure if this was improvement or regression.
“You have a human heart and you can feel human emotions,” you said. “What makes you and I so different, then?”
Jeonghan opened his mouth, but before he could speak, there was a knock at the door. You glanced at Jeonghan suspiciously, wondering if he invited Seokmin without your knowledge, but even he looked clueless. There was no one you were expecting, so you wondered if it was just the UPS guy dropping off a package.
When you opened your door though, it was indeed Seokmin, and he was pissed.
You had never seen him like this, with his nostrils flaring and his skin flushed red. It was almost as if steam was coming out of his own ears. But there was something very glaring about Seokmin that had you gawking at him.
His wings were on full display.
Snowy white wings fanned out behind him. You could hear a low, angelic hum faintly resounding from the feathers. You were in shock for a moment, unsettled and overwhelmed by the heavenly light that Seokmin was bathing in.
It seemed to have an even worse effect on Jeonghan. You noticed how he flinched at the sight, backing up slowly.
“Get back, Y/N,” Seokmin ordered. “I know this is gonna sound crazy, but your roommate’s dangerous.”
You wondered if he had some unexplainable power over you because your actions were going against your words as you found yourself stumbling away from the two. “Seokmin, don’t do this,” you begged.
He frowned. “What?”
But Jeonghan got his words in before you could. “Looks like the both of us figured it out before you did. You just found out you’re a Quartarion, huh?”
He was jeering, like he was taunting the angel to attack him. You couldn’t understand what the demon was thinking when he was clearly overpowered right now. Even if Seokmin wasn’t a pureblood angel, Jeonghan’s powers had considerably weakened ever since he entered the mortal realm.
“How…” Seokmin was shocked for a moment, straightening up and glowering down at you. “How did you know?”
“You found out recently, didn’t you? Mommy or daddy told you they were half, which meant you’re quarter—weaker than them,” Jeonghan pressed. “They kept it from you all this time, huh? Because your angelic presence wasn’t strong enough to be a threat, but then you started glowing brighter.”
“Jeonghan, enough!” you yelled, trying to mediate whatever was happening. You had no idea what Seokmin was going to do, but it definitely didn’t seem like he was here for another movie night.
“Mammon,” Seokmin said through gritted teeth. “That’s your real name, right?” Suddenly, the angel turned on you with an accusatory stare. “And you—how did you know about all of this? Did he tell you?”
You gulped before starting slowly, “Look, I accidentally summoned Jeonghan from my statistics textbook the day before you met him at the Olive Garden.”
Seokmin tilted his head, looking utterly puzzled. None of those words were in the Bible.
“I knew he was a demon,” you continued, “and he told me you were an angel. He could sense it, or something like that.”
“Oh,” Seokmin replied rather sadly, as if he had just discovered he had been the brunt of a joke all along. “Well, I’m sorry you were caught up in this Y/N, but I have to kill your roommate before he hurts anyone else.”
“Whoa, hold on—he hasn’t hurt anyone!” you cried, holding onto Seokmin’s shoulder to keep him from charging at Jeonghan. “You’re an angel; you can’t kill him!”
“Technically, he can,” Jeonghan noted as he just barely avoided the angel grabbing him. “Some angels are specifically assigned to keep demons away from humans. I think Seokmin’s just mad, though.”
“I’m not just mad,” Seokmin spat, although he was visibly seething. “I just feel stupid that I befriended someone who was trying to kill me this whole time!”
You turned your gaze to Jeonghan, who held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’ll admit I might have had murderous intentions at first, but come on! You would be dead by now if I really wanted to kill you.”
“You can’t kill him, Seokmin,” you repeated in a desperate attempt. “You owe him!”
Now the angel was lost. “And how exactly do I owe him?”
“Remember when your card declined, and I bought you that croissant on campus last week?” you tried. As soon as the words came out, you heard a loud groan from Jeonghan, and you were sure he was pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. “You owe me, who owes Jeonghan, so you owe Jeonghan!”
Seokmin was even more lost. “What?”
“Transitive property of equality: A equals B equals C, so A equals C.”
“There’s no way you’re actually applying the transitive property of equality to this situation.”
“And what exactly do you owe me for?” Jeonghan chimed in, equally as confused.
“Yeah, I can’t believe I’m agreeing with him on this one, but he’s a demon, Y/N,” Seokmin said. “If you feel like you owe him anything, it’s likely you were manipulated by him.”
“No, I wasn’t!” you protested before the demon could object himself. “I owe him because…”
You trailed off, wondering how you were going to string your feelings into comprehensible words. They were all a mess of jumbled vowels and consonants in your head, holding no significant weight until you thought long and hard, feeling it get heavier and heavier on your tongue.
The angel raised a brow. “Because what?”
Letters unfurling in your head. Piecing themselves together. You felt like your head was going to explode until you blurted out, “Because he showed me what love feels like.”
You looked over at Jeonghan to see him staring at you like a deer caught in headlights. He looked helpless at the moment, wild with pain, like he had let down all lines of defense at your declaration. A scarlet red blush stained his cheeks, and it was perhaps the single most human expression you had ever seen from him.
Seokmin moved forward, and an agonized scream tore itself from your throat before you could even think. His sudden movement chilled your blood, and all you could think about was how you needed to protect your guardian demon before he was struck by the angel.
And so you did.
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Confession time: you kicked an angel in the balls.
You were pretty sure that was a one-way ticket to Hell.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” you kept repeating to a defeated Seokmin, who was now laying on the couch with pain drawn all over his face. “My fight response has been kicking in a lot more lately.”
“I wasn’t gonna hurt him,” he explained weakly. “My foot was just cramping up.”
“So you won’t kill Jeonghan?” you asked, brimming with hope.
“I… I don’t know,” he answered. “Jeonghan’s a demon, Y/N. Just because you have feelings for him doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of manipulating those emotions out of you.”
“He’s as good as human, Seokmin.”
“Y/N,” Jeonghan started, but you shook your head.
“I’m right!” you insisted. “Jeonghan has a heart, and it beats; I’ve felt it myself.” The two men were silent, so you continued, “He can’t handle alcohol at all; he’s more lightweight than I am. He likes building lego sets. He likes the rain, and he said it’s because that means an angel’s crying, but it’s really because he loves the way the Earth smells after rainfall. He likes coffee, but he always pours me some first before he takes any. You think he’d have the vocabulary of a Victorian man, but he knows more slang than I do. He… Jeonghan wants to be human. Isn’t that enough for you?”
Silence hung in the air. You wondered if you overstepped for a moment, aired out too much of his business, but then you could visibly see Seokmin at war with himself. You could see the internal battle in his eyes, fighting to believe in whatever the angels had instructed him to do.
He narrowed his eyes at the demon and asked in a calmer voice, “You swear you won’t kill me?”
“I swear on God.”
“You’re a demon. Swear on something else.”
“Um, okay… I swear on, uh, Y/N.”
“Please don’t swear on me,” you muttered, looking at your feet nervously as if the ground was going to swallow you whole.
Seokmin closed his eyes, exhaling loudly. “So, when did you stop wanting to kill me?”
“Y/N and I had a deal that I wouldn’t kill you in exchange for—”
You slapped a hand over the demon’s mouth immediately, successfully muffling the next words that decided to slip from his lips. It felt like your face was burning from how embarrassed you were. While Jeonghan shot you a confused look and tried to lick your palm to get it to budge, you exclaimed, “That detail isn’t important!”
“Anyway,” Jeonghan continued once you finally removed your hand, “I guess… part of me started enjoying those movie nights. Kinda hard to discuss the endings after you kill your friend, right?”
You could see Seokmin visibly soften, the fondness returning to his eyes. “You’re telling the truth.”
“Yeah, I am.”
“You can tell?” you inquired, wondering if it was some sort of angelic ability he had recently acquired.
“Yeah, I’ve always had some sort of sixth sense about these things,” Seokmin said, although you weren’t quite sure about this because you and Jeonghan had lied to him on numerous occasions. “I was only able to tap into it after I saw my wings for the first time.”
You then wondered if the longing etched bone-deep in Jeonghan’s face was also real.
It took a couple of hours for you and Jeonghan to explain everything to Seokmin, from beginning to end. You had to start from how you accidentally summoned him, which seemed to entertain the both of them, and you had to scold them both to take the situation seriously. Then, Jeonghan explained his side of the story, detailing how he didn’t have much time left because his mortal body was weak. 
“What do we do now, then?” Seokmin asked, sitting up straight now. “You’re gonna die if you stay here, right?”
“That’s why he wanted to kill an angel,” you said, “but now we don’t have a game plan.”
The three of you sat in silence for several minutes, letting the situation sink in. Your nerves were still buzzing from your earlier confession, still unanswered by Jeonghan, but you knew it wasn’t the time to dwell on that. There were more important matters at hand, but no one knew what to do.
Jeonghan sighed. “It’s fine. I’ve already accepted that I’m going to die here and be reborn in Hell.”
“You think that’s fair to Y/N? Or me?” Seokmin burst out. “You’re basically telling us to watch you die, dude.”
“You think I wanted this outcome?” he snapped. “No, I didn’t think I was going to actually enjoy living in this realm! I didn’t think I was gonna fall in love with my human! I didn’t think mortals had such excellent marketing strategies!”
Seokmin’s eyes went wide. “You…”
“Jeonghan,” was all you could say, and his name came out no louder than a whisper.
“What?!”
“You said you love me.” 
You looked toward Seokmin for confirmation, who answered with a quiet nod—an indication that not only had you heard it correctly, but Jeonghan was telling the truth.
To be honest, you were quite embarrassed that this was all coming to light in front of Lee Seokmin. He seemed very out of place in this otherwise tender moment. Yet, you were filled with inexplicable happiness and absolute dread simultaneously.
Once the grief settled, you were born again. Newfound confidence rising up your throat. You were determined to do whatever it took to mortalize Jeonghan.
“Oh, right.” The demon sounded nervous—enough to make you nervous. He simply stared at you for a moment before brushing the proclamation off with a wave. “Anyway…”
“Jeonghan!”
He shot you a withering look, glaring you down with every fiber of his being. “Seokmin is right there. Do you really wanna do this right now?” he whispered in an exasperated tone, turning his back to his friend so that he could converse with you. Although Jeonghan was lecturing, you were enjoying the way his blush rose to his cheeks. “We can talk about this after he leaves.”
“Okay, fine,” you agreed. “Why’d you have to blurt out a confession while he was here?”
“You did the same thing!”
“I can still hear you guys,” Seokmin reminded unhelpfully.
Somehow, Jeonghan took this as an opportunity to continue to chastise you. “See? This is all because you can’t keep quiet.”
“I can’t keep quiet?” You knew this was not the time nor place to bicker with your guardian demon, but he was an expert at getting on your nerves. “You’re the one who speaks in crazy demon lingo wherever we go!”
He scoffed. “I don’t speak in crazy demon lingo, human.”
“Yeah? Tell that to Chan. Poor guy had to witness your drunk ass going on about the Yog Sloth owing you or whatever.”
Jeonghan stammered and did a double take, looking at you like you had just kicked him square in the chest. “Wait… what did you just say?”
“Uh, Chan—”
“No, the other thing.”
“The Yog Sloth?”
“Yog Sloth,” he echoed, and then something clicked. “Yog-Sothoth? Wait, the Outer Gods—oh my god! They do owe me!” he all but yelled, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. “Y/N, you’re a genius!”
Seokmin’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What’d she even do?” he asked, and you were glad you were on the same page as him.
“Yeah, what’d I do? Who the hell are the Outer Gods?”
For the next thirty minutes, Jeonghan went on to explain how billions of years ago, the most powerful beings of all creation, that rivaled even God Himself, were ruling over the universe. Before space and time was Azathoth—chaos. Azathoth even tried to disrupt the beginning of God’s Creation by starting a war. Each blow delivered from both God and Azathoth caused a rippling effect, creating infinite multiverses that were birthed from the clashing between darkness and light.
There was a period in time when the angels and demons had to side together for once to seal away the Outer Gods. Although they were no match for these cosmic beings, God was able to lock them in the Outerverse, where they have been slumbering ever since.
The key that locked away the Outer Gods had been missing for several millennia, but it happened to end up in the hands of Mammon and Belphegor. Mammon had the clever idea of reshaping the artifact into a human hand and hiding it in a fiery lake in Hell. It was called the Right Hand of Doom, but it hadn’t been touched ever since its reform.
“You reshaped a key of cosmic importance into a hand,” you summarized in disbelief. “That key has the power to doom all of our existences, and you turned it into a human hand.”
“You know, Belphegor had the same reaction after I created it,” Jeonghan said. “Actually, let me give him a call to fetch it for me.”
“Wait!” Seokmin exclaimed. “That key could wake the Outer Gods from their slumber. What are you planning on doing with it? Are you seriously considering using the Outerverse?”
“No, Seokmin, I’m gonna use it as a back scratcher.”
“Don’t get me wrong; I do want you to stay here, but this is extremely dangerous. It’s a really selfish decision, Jeonghan.”
“I’m literally the Prince of Greed.”
“Jeonghan, no matter how much I want you to become human and stay with me, this is just… it’s just crazy,” you said. “What if it goes completely wrong? What if you’re trapped in the Outerverse and killed by the Outer Gods?”
“Listen,” Jeonghan started. “When I first created the Right Hand of Doom, I was contacted by Yog-Sothoth himself—Azathoth’s grandson.”
“How did he contact you if he’s imprisoned?” you asked.
“These gods have their ways the same way demons do,” Jeonghan explained. “It’s kept on the down-low, but there are numerous worshippers of theirs that seek out ways to release them. None of them are ever successful, though.”
He continued, “Anyway, Yog-Sothoth isn’t as cruel as the others. He’s actually quite generous when he deems someone worthy, and I guess he thought I was that person when I refashioned the Right Hand of Doom. Millions of years ago, I helped the Outer Gods out by bringing them sacrifices to empower them, so they’re in my debt.”
Seokmin's face soured. “Why’d you bring them sacrifices?”
“Dunno. I was bored.”
“Let me get this straight,” you spoke up. “So, you’re gonna risk your life over the slight chance that you could be turned human?”
Jeonghan’s dark eyes pierced yours, as if he was saying, Look at me. Look at how far I’d go for you.
“Relax.” He cracked a smile. “It’s not like I’m going to the Outerverse myself. I just need the Right Hand of Doom to communicate with Yog-Sothoth across our realms. Even if he rejects my bargain, I doubt he’d try to crush me to a pulp from his prison.”
“If that’s all there is to it,” Seokmin started, a smile creeping to his face, “then I don’t see why we shouldn’t try.”
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Jeonghan left the room momentarily to contact Belphegor, Prince of Sloth. He hadn’t exactly disclosed how he was going to summon the demon, but he returned with a scowl on his face, shaking his head as he explained that Belphegor was too lazy to retrieve the Right Hand of Doom at the moment. You and Seokmin asked when he would return, but even Jeonghan didn’t have an exact answer.
“Give me a call whenever he decides to show up,” Seokmin said before he went back to his apartment. You could tell that he was still shaken up from finding out that his friend had been a demon all this time, but you were glad that they were both being civil for now.
However, there were now other issues at hand. As soon as Seokmin left your apartment, you realized that the tension between you and Jeonghan couldn’t even be cut by a blade. To your surprise, your guardian demon was the first to mention it.
“You love me,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. It was like he was trying to wrap his head around the concept, trying to make sure it was real.
“I do,” you said bravely, “and you love me, I think. Seokmin seemed to believe it was true, and he’s an angel, so…”
“I think I do.” He looked pained. “These feelings are really confusing. I feel like I can’t breathe sometimes. You have a way of making me feel like I’m at the top of the world sometimes, but sometimes I feel like I’ve hit rock bottom.”
You understood that completely. When you and Jeonghan had your good moments together, you felt like you were soaring. However, when you were reminded about how little time he had left on Earth, you wanted to shut out the rest of the world and hide.
“We can figure it out together,” you told him, reaching forward to grab his hand and squeeze it.
Jeonghan’s eyes always looked different to you, like melted amber. They held many millennia of age and experience, so it felt like Jeonghan was unfazed by most aspects of life he encountered. Nothing could make the man falter.
But now, with evident panic in his eyes, newfound confidence surged through your blood that compelled you to get on your tip-toes and press a chaste kiss to his lips. It was a seemingly tame sign of affection, so you were thrown off when Jeonghan quietly slid a finger past the hem of your jeans. With his head dipped, the demon looked at you through his long, feathery lashes.
“Are you… are you hungry?” you stammered out.
“No,” he mumbled, raising his head to meet your eyes with his expectant ones. “Two people who like each other… Normally, this would lead to dating, wouldn’t it?” When you nodded, he continued, “How about it, then?”
“How about what?”
“Let’s go out.”
Your mind went blank for a moment. With how straightforwardly he said it, you would have thought Jeonghan was messing with your head, trying to push your buttons by teasing you. But his face looked determined this time, like he actually meant it. You could see the red glow of his eyes as he waited for an answer.
You blinked. “Like, as boyfriend and girlfriend?”
“Yes, as boyfriend and girlfriend,” Jeonghan confirmed, exasperated. He gripped your hand tighter, as if he was getting his feelings across with a gentle squeeze. “Like Hallie and Noah.”
“It’s Allie.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He scoffed, surprisingly tender in the way he cupped your cheeks and pulled you closer. You were still a bundle of nerves, but something about Jeonghan made you feel secure. Quite the opposite of how you theoretically should feel around a demon. “Hey,” he tried again, his voice no louder than murmur, “I wanna kiss you.”
You smiled. “Then do it already.”
And so he did.
Jeonghan had kissed you before, but it was nothing like this. It seemed so urgent before, like you both knew you were running out of time. This time, though, he was slow, taking his time to memorize the shape of your lips as he moved his mouth against yours. You felt his long lashes tickle your cheeks, and it almost made you giggle, so you had to pull back to regain your composure. Jeonghan looked down at you, chest heaving even though the kiss was nothing but gentle.
“Again,” you pleaded.
Immediately, his current expression turned cocky. The corner of Jeonghan’s mouth lifted in amusement, and he kissed you not-so-gently this time. He pulled your body flush against his, and you reciprocated by wrapping your arms around his neck. The moment he slid his tongue past your lips, you heard a soft groan from Jeonghan that made your knees buckle under you.
Jeonghan held your waist with one hand and the back of your head with the other. Even though you were still standing on two feet, you were sure that he could hold you up, anyway. He gripped you like he never wanted to let you go.
“You taste good,” he mumbled against your lips.
“You taste like… coffee.” You made a face and let a giggle slip.  
“Well, it’s a good thing you like coffee.”
“Not when I’m tasting it secondhand.”
“You know, a minute ago, I wanted to fuck you properly,” he said. “Now, I’m just miffed. Slightly turned on, but still miffed.”
“Fuck me properly?” you asked, sort of embarrassed by how high your voice got. You inched closer, allowing Jeonghan’s finger to toy with the waistband of your underwear. In return, you placed your hand flat against his abdomen, moving it down slowly until you reached his crotch. Jeonghan hissed when you pressed against his growing bulge. “You mean…”
“With my cock, yeah,” he finished bluntly.
It was silent for a moment. You removed your hand, swallowing carefully after realizing that your guardian demon was hard.
Jeonghan wordlessly slid his hand down your pants, maintaining direct eye contact with you. His hand cupped your clothed cunt, and although you tried to resist, you couldn’t help but throb for more contact. You wondered if he just wanted to see your reactions, and you confirmed this by watching his smirk form when you whimpered.
“Oh,” you breathed out.
“Yeah, you like that?”
His voice was heavy, ragged. You felt like you could get drunk off it, so, naturally, you backed up with him until the back of your legs hit the bed. You made a sound of agreement when he hummed, prompting you to answer his question. You couldn’t even form words when all you could think about was being under him. Jeonghan’s palming grew more intense, and you were having a harder time staying upright.
Then, he was occupied with your neck. Jeonghan dragged his soft lips along the flesh, nipping and biting where he pleased. You let out a soft whine when he sucked on that one spot that turned your brain into mush.
“I’m gonna lay you down,” he said, although it felt like a question with the way he was looking at you. His eyes were careful, like he was holding onto your every word before following through. “Am I doing this right?”
You laughed, delighted as he set you down on your bed and got over you. You looped your arms around his shoulders and asked, “What do you mean?”
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Am I going about this the right way? I don’t really do this sort of thing.”
You were surprised at his sudden meekness. Judging from Jeonghan’s overwhelming confidence from your past hookups with him, you expected him to carry on with the same arrogance. You never thought he would be so hesitant all of a sudden.
“You’re doing perfect,” you reassured with a chaste peck to his lips.
“Right.” He did one of his breathless laughs, easing your nerves with his grin. “Just tell me if I’m screwing up, then.”
Jeonghan dipped his head again to pepper kisses across your collarbone, working his way back up to the column of your neck. He worked on your sweet spot, biting and sucking until he had successfully left a bruise. You squirmed underneath him the entire time, tugging your hands through his hair and begging for him to fix the ache between your legs.
The demon only chuckled darkly in response. As he bit the shell of your ear, he removed your jeans and underwear swiftly, which you aided by kicking the garments off your ankles. He prodded your cunt with nimble fingers, grinning wider when he saw the desperation in your eyes.
“You’re so wet,” he commented in a silky voice. “All for me, huh?”
“Shut up,” you grumbled, “and take your clothes off already.”
Jeonghan rose up to sit back on your thighs, staring at you the entire time he pulled his shirt off and discarded it to the side. You couldn’t help but ogle at his figure; he was absolutely gorgeous—sculpted by God Himself.
“Don’t do that,” he said gruffly when you reached out to poke his stomach. You deduced that Jeonghan was most definitely ticklish and trying to hide that weakness from you.
“But your reaction was cute.”
He rolled his eyes but smiled, his hands moving to tug at the hem of your shirt. “C’mon, your turn.”
“H-huh?”
Even when Jeonghan gave you head in the past, you always kept your shirt on. He, too, had never stripped down in front of you like this. Surely, you were expecting this to happen, but the thought of being fully naked in front of Jeonghan was intimidating. It felt like you two were reaching a level of intimacy and closeness that you thought was unattainable months prior.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I already know you’re not wearing a bra. You've gone braless for, like, almost a week now.”
You raised a suspicious brow at him. “You were staring at my tits?”
“No comment.”
Jeonghan placed his slender hands on your waist, squeezing your sides comfortingly as you pulled your shirt off over your head. He watched you with marvel in his eyes, eyes trained on the swell of your breasts. He leaned close to press soft kisses against the skin, whispering praise as he did so. You didn’t peg the demon to be so romantic, but you weren’t complaining.
You heard gentle pattering outside your window while Jeonghan kissed down your chest.
“It’s raining,” you whispered. The two of you broke apart for a brief moment while Jeonghan hastily got rid of his pants and boxers. “An angel’s crying.”
You looked to the side, and you nearly had to look away before Jeonghan could notice how flustered you looked. The demon stood in all his glory. You had seen naked men before, but Jeonghan was, of course, a creature beyond human comprehension. He was the most gorgeous being you had ever come across.
And, strangely enough, for the first time, you didn’t feel that uncontrollable tug of desire when you looked at him. You weren’t compelled to drop to your knees and submit to the demon. Your attraction felt innate, much like how the rain falls so naturally from the sky. Not that Jeonghan ever had you under a spell or anything, but it almost felt like he was becoming more human.
Whether that meant he was losing his powers or was growing accustomed to living as a human, you had no idea.
“You’re beautiful,” he admitted, looking down at you like you were the stars in the night sky.
“Thanks,” you replied shyly.
“That’s your reaction?” He beamed, amused. “Well, whatever. I’d rather you save your voice for when I make you scream, human.”
You thought it would be impossible at this point, but your cheeks grew even hotter. Yet, you couldn’t even chide the demon because he was already getting over you, promptly attacking your neck with more kisses.
You were a soaking mess already, so Jeonghan’s fingers slid into your cunt with ease. You were taken aback yourself by how effortless it was, but you figured two fingers couldn’t hold a candle to the girth of his cock.
You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch how Jeonghan fingered you. Both of you stared at the spot where his fingers disappeared in you, and the sight only turned you on even more. For once, Jeonghan was pleasuring someone else without the favor being returned, yet you had never seen him so satiated. He was thriving off of your moans and cries, like the sounds itself were feeding him.
A moan escaped your lips, fragmenting off into broken whimpers as Jeonghan’s fingers sped up. You felt your thighs start to shake—the preamble of your orgasm building up. Heat bloomed under your skin, and you dug your nails into the demon’s shoulders to warn him.
The warning only spurred him to move his fingers faster—in scissoring motions this time. His thumb found purchase on your clit, circling the ball of nerves slowly. Finally, you fell off the edge, crying out in ecstasy as boundless pleasure tore through your body. Your mind went blank, thinking about nothing but how good you felt. It was like you were bathed in heavenly light.
“I got you,” Jeonghan murmured, kissing the spot under your ear.
If you had half the mind to kick him in the shin, you would. Pretending to comfort you while torturing your swollen clit throughout your orgasm was pure evil. You expected no less from a demon.
“Will you do me a favor and fuck me already?” you asked, exasperated. For good measure, you flattened your palm against his stomach and slid your hand down his abs.
“Alright. Beg for it.”
You balked. “W-what?”
“You want me to fuck you that bad? Then beg for it,” he said with an air of haughtiness. You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but the man didn’t budge. “I’m waiting.”
“I am not begging you, that’s so—” You paused. Jeonghan raised a brow, prompting you to continue, so you admitted, “It’s embarrassing!”
He shrugged. “I think we’re both past the point of being embarrassed in front of each other, human.”
You sucked in a sharp breath. “Okay, fine. You want me to beg? I’ll beg.” You laid back down, looping your arms around Jeonghan’s neck once more and pulling him close. “I’ve been waiting months for you to fuck me, so please make me feel good and I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” The mischievous glint in his eyes was unmistakable.
“I’ll be good.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!” you whined, the agitation growing in your chest. “I’ll be a good girl, okay? I’ll be really, really good.”
“Alright, I’m sold.”
Jeonghan pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting out a light laugh before his demeanor completely shifted. His easygoing smile turned into a proud smirk when he practically folded you in half, throwing one of your legs over his shoulders so that he could line himself up to your entrance. He hummed, teasing your folds with the head of his cock.
You wanted to cry out, to push at his chest and beg him to just fuck you already. All of the teasing had you at your tipping point, and you were about to complain until you felt the tip of Jeonghan’s cock enter you slowly.
Your breath hitched. He hadn’t even completely entered you, and you were already throbbing at the thought of his cock inside you. Jeonghan used one hand to hold your hips down, pushing into you slowly but surely. You could tell he didn’t want to rush or hurt you, so he kept his eyes trained on your face the entire time, gauging whether to proceed based off your reactions.
“Sorry,” he apologized, placing a kiss against your stomach as he continued pushing his way inside you until he bottomed out. Your eyes nearly rolled back once he was fully inside, and all you could do was clench around him until he growled. “Hold still.”
“Keep going,” you begged, holding onto him like he was your anchor. If you let go of him, you were sure you would fall apart.
Jeonghan simpered, looking quite delighted as he started rocking his hips slowly. It seemed as though he was waiting for you to get adjusted to his size. Despite all, you were still clenching around his cock occasionally, leaving him holding onto you tighter and groaning into the crook of your neck. Jeonghan sped up his thrusts and left a bruising grip on your hips.
“You like that?” he asked, and, lord, you nearly came for the second time just by his words.
“Jeonghan!” you cried out, nearly gasping the words. “I… I want—”
“Want what?” he cut you off smoothly, smirking down at your disheveled appearance. He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust. “What do you want, princess?”
You whimpered. “I do wanna be your girlfriend.”
He froze for a moment, stunned. Apparently, that wasn’t the route he was expecting you to take.
Then, the demon’s shock wore off and was replaced with a warm smile. “Yeah?” he asked, leaning down to meet your lips in a sweet kiss. He pulled away to look into your eyes. “I’d be honored to be your boyfriend, Y/N.”
It was like clockwork—the way your orgasm hit you at that very moment. You tightened around him uncontrollably, the sporadic motions causing Jeonghan to cum as well. He pulled out right before his climax, ropes of cum spilling onto your stomach. You watched it pool together with hazy, unfocused eyes, still dazed from your orgasm and sudden confession.
Jeonghan was your boyfriend now.
“I see why mortal men are such fools for women,” Jeonghan said once he collapsed next to you. “If sex is always this good, I would start wars, too.”
“You’re a demon prince. You’ve started wars, anyway.”
“Oh, right.”
Afterward, you taught Jeonghan a thing or two about aftercare. The concept was completely foreign to him, so you informed him that good boyfriends took care of their girlfriends after sex. When Jeonghan told you to just grab a tissue and call it a day, you had to scold him to get him to clean you up.
To your surprise, Jeonghan did a satisfactory job. You half-expected him to do the absolute bare minimum, but you could definitely see that he was trying his best.
So, you bestowed upon him the highest honor: allowing him to sleep with you in your bed.
Jeonghan got under the sheets beside you, wrapping an arm around you once you cozied up to him. It was strange how comfortable you felt with him, especially considering he was your assigned demon. In some parallel universe, you and Jeonghan might have been normal people with normal lives, and you two probably felt the same level of closeness as you did right now.
Neither of you could sleep right away. Jeonghan traced patterns along your arm and you told him countless stories about your childhood. He smiled fondly, intently listening to the life you lived before him.
Later, he kissed you, and, between bated breaths, whispered promises of forever. And eventually, the soft trickling of rain lulled you both to sleep.
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You woke up freezing.
At first, you thought Jeonghan had stolen the blanket. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for the Prince of Greed to be, well, greedy. However, considering your limbs were entangled with his, that didn’t seem to be the case.
The feeling was awfully familiar. It was the same sub-zero temperature you experienced when Jeonghan appeared in your room the first time. However, it was brief this time, dissipating as soon as it started.
Although you couldn’t identify the strange man who materialized in the center of your room, you had a good idea of who it was.
“Oh, Belphegor,” Jeonghan greeted without a care in the world, confirming your suspicions immediately. You were amazed that the half-naked demon was completely unfazed by his demon friend coming out of nowhere. Maybe this was just a regular morning for their kind. “About time you showed up.”
Belphegor made a noncommittal sound. “Yeah, well…”
“I can’t believe it took you centuries to fetch the Hand.”
“I was going to do it,” he said, “but then I didn’t want to.”
Jeonghan groaned. “You idiot.”
You gathered up the bedsheets, making sure to cover yourself fully before turning your attention back to the two demons. Maybe if you acted like everything about this situation was normal, it would distract from the fact that you only had a blanket to cover your naked body. The stranger seemed to have no interest in you whatsoever, so you figured he wouldn’t think anything of you and Jeonghan sleeping together.
“Jeonghan!” you hissed, glowering at your startled boyfriend. “It wouldn’t kill you to wake me up?”
“Oh, Y/N,” he started, seeming pleased with himself. He gestured toward the demon next to him, who looked like he had just rolled out of bed himself. “This is Belphegor, but you can call him by his human name: Wonwoo.”
“Nice to meet you,” you said cautiously.
“Hi.”
There was clearly no room for conversation between you two.
“Anyway,” Wonwoo continued, shooting Jeonghan a curious look, “what’re you gonna do with the key? You’re not opening the Outerverse, are you?”
Jeonghan shook his head. “I’m not gonna release the Outer Gods, I’m—”
“Well, that’s good to know,” Wonwoo cut him off, clearly uninterested in the conversation. “Now that I know you’re not trying to kill us all, I’ll get going.”
“Yeah, okay, good talk.”
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Later in the day, you sat on the floor of your living room with Jeonghan and Seokmin. Jeonghan was giving him a rundown of Belphegor’s visit, which didn’t take very long considering he was there for a grand total of nine moments. You almost made an offhand comment about how Jeonghan didn’t give you any time to get dressed, but that would have exposed what went down between you two last night.
Neither of you had even mentioned to Seokmin about sealing the deal.
“Alright, so,” the Quartarion started, “how does this work?”
Jeonghan pulled out a ten dollar bill, a deformed-looking Twinkie, and a tiny bottle of bath salts from the pocket of his sweater. He laid them out carefully around the Right Hand of Doom before looking up at you and Seokmin. A smug grin spread across his face, but you and the angel were flabbergasted.
“A Twinkie?” you asked.
“He likes sweets,” was the extent of Jeonghan’s explanation.
“Primordial Outer God of space-time likes Twinkies. Good to know.”
“And the ten dollars?” Seokmin asked.
“He likes money, too,” Jeonghan said. Before either of you could question the bath salts, he pointed to the bottle and added, “These are just for the vibes.”
Nice.
“Anyway,” Jeonghan continued, “these types of invocations usually require human sacrifices or something along those lines.” Seokmin and him glanced in your direction at the same time, and you shot them each an icy glare. Jeonghan coughed into his fist. “We’re obviously not sacrificing you. I’m just saying he’s more likely to answer me because I’m a demon prince.”
Seokmin looked on edge. “So… are we starting?”
“I don’t want Y/N in the room,” Jeonghan answered.
“What?” you asked, shocked at the sudden dismissal. “Why?”
“He’s so powerful—even knowing of his existence can drive some mortals insane,” Jeonghan muttered darkly. “Seokmin should be fine since he’s an angel, but there’s a chance you’d go mad if you heard his voice, so stay back until I say so.”
He didn’t have to tell you twice. You were already starting to get to your feet the second he mentioned mortals going insane.
“I’ll stand in the hallway, then,” you decided, far too curious to lock yourself in one of the rooms.
You watched as Jeonghan and Seokmin took each other’s hands quietly and exchanged a silent nod of understanding before closing their eyes. Jeonghan then started reciting some strange incantation that was far more complicated than the one you used to summon him. It seemed to drag on for close to a minute before the air around them went still. It was as if they were trapped in a time vortex, suspended in space while all you could do was wait for them to be released.
You took careful steps backward until you were against the wall, and then you sank down to the floor. As much as you tried to calm your nerves, you were riddled with anxiety. You had to physically hold your thigh down to keep it from bouncing.
Jeonghan didn’t tell you how exactly this would go. Hell, he probably didn’t know himself. Because you were so unaware, though, you weren’t sure if what was happening right now was normal or not. The two men weren’t even twitching or breathing; they were like still images.
Minutes stretched on. You weren’t sure how long it had been, but each passing second felt longer than it should have been. There was nothing you could do but wait. Stare at the motionless air around the two boys and wait.
It had probably been around half an hour when Seokmin’s eyes shot open with a loud gasp. You scrambled to your feet immediately, badgering the poor boy with questions to find out what happened while he was just trying to catch his breath. Jeonghan, on the other hand, looked the very image of tranquility when he opened his eyes.
“What is it?” you kept asking. “What happened?”
Seokmin had a strange, distant look in his eyes. He tried to speak several times, but no words came out.
“Could you get him something warm to drink, Y/N?” Jeonghan asked. “I think he’s in shock.”
“I’ll—I’ll make some tea,” you stammered, stumbling over your feet before you could start walking properly. “How about you? Are you—” You stopped yourself once you saw the hint of fear in Jeonghan’s eyes, and it chilled your blood. You couldn’t even fathom what they had just gone through. “I’ll get you a cup, too.”
It took two hours for the two men to recover—slowly but surely. You brought them tea and gave them time to process what they had just been through. It mainly consisted of you sitting to the side and keeping yourself from asking any questions. You figured they’d tell you if they wanted, but you weren’t in any position to press them.
Jeonghan seemed to feel bad for letting Seokmin tag along. He kept glancing at the angel with sad eyes, seeming remorseful. Then, he turned his attention to you. To your surprise, he walked over to where you sat on the couch to sit next to you and lay his head on your shoulder.
“Hey,” you called softly. “Are you feeling better?”
He nodded, although he didn’t look you in the eyes. “You should probably go to your room. Yog-Sothoth told us he’s thinking about my request, so he could be making up his mind any minute now.”
“You’re going back?”
“I guess. It was more like my consciousness was transported there instead of my physical body.”
He said it like it should have been no big deal, but the two were clearly unsettled by their visit. You weren’t sure how to feel about them going back. It could break Seokmin for good. Even though he was an angel-blood, he didn’t have the power that Jeonghan had.
“The fact that he listened to Jeonghan’s request means that he’s considering it,” Seokmin spoke up after a period of silence between you three. “It’s a good thing you didn’t go, Y/N. The Outerverse is the most terrifying realm I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been to Alabama.”
You smiled a little. At least he seemed to be feeling more at ease now.
“They say Yog-Sothoth exists beyond our reality, so he can possibly see other streams of reality that aren’t connected to the branches of Creation,” Jeonghan explained. “That sounds insane, right? When you’re in the Outerverse seeing those pockets of different realities… it can make you go a little crazy. I mean, I’d give Hell a five star Yelp review over the Outerverse.”
Seokmin tucked his head in his folded arms. “I never wanna go to that place again.”
“Well, I’m not exactly planning to have my next birthday party there.”
“Mammon,” a voice boomed in your ears, and the sound itself was weird.​​ There were undertones of echoes in its words, and you couldn’t even tell if the voice was in your head or not.
You didn’t have to ask who it was because the fear in Seokmin’s eyes was unmistakable. Jeonghan straightened up, panicked, but you assumed it was because you were still in the room because he swiftly placed his hands over your ears in an attempt to muffle the sound. You weren’t sure it would help, but you did feel safer that way.
“God of Time, I appreciate your presence.”
“I’ve decided to accept your offer,” Yog-Sothoth said. His voice sounded louder, even with Jeonghan’s hands over your ears. “I’ll help you.”
There was a way.
He removed his hands from the sides of your head, and you sat up straight again. You never thought those four words would light up so much hope inside you, but here you were, beaming like an idiot next to your demon boyfriend. There was a hope for a future between you and Jeonghan—hope that you two could live out the rest of your lives as humans. More importantly, there was hope that you two could live out the rest of your lives together.
For a moment, you were filled with doubt. There was so much at stake for this decision, and you couldn’t fathom someone loving you so much that they would give their world up for you.
“Jeonghan,” you murmured, “are you sure about giving up immortality?”
“I’d rather live a short life with you than spend the rest of eternity longing for what we could have had,” he declared with a fire blazing in his eyes. “I don’t want forever if it’s not with you, Y/N.”
His soft words coupled with his fierce gaze only sent butterflies to the pit of your stomach. You were hopeless when it came to Jeonghan; whatever he said left you like putty in his hands.
“Jeonghan,” Seokmin whispered, looking fearful. He was pointing at the makeshift summoning circle. “The Twinkie’s gone.”
So, the primordial Outer God of space-time was helping Jeonghan out because of a Twinkie. You decided against questioning why the all-powerful being was about to manipulate the fabric of reality over an over-glorified sponge cake.
“But,” Yog-Sothoth’s voice echoed in your ears as he spoke, “for this exchange, I require a sacrifice.”
“A sacrifice?” Jeonghan asked, frowning. “The Twinkie—”
“No, Mammon, not the Twinkie. I want you to bring me a loved one; an eye for an eye.”
You frowned. Jeonghan could split his soul into two—one residing in his demon form in Hell, and the other residing in his human body here—but he had to sacrifice someone he loved? You couldn’t understand how this was a fair exchange; he was already giving up a part of him for this ordeal.
“Sacrifice a loved one in exchange for what I want,” Jeonghan echoed, a faraway look in his eyes. “I’ve seen this before.”
“You have?” Your eyebrows narrowed. “When?”
“Avengers: Endgame.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Dude,” Seokmin chimed in, and you were starting to think you were the only one who understood the gravity of the situation. “This is literally Thanos sacrificing Gamora for the Soul Stone.”
“Stop embarrassing us in front of the Outer God!” you whispered harshly.
“Well,” Jeonghan started, his tone growing serious again, “I’m sure you know my choice.”
“Yes, I do.” Yog-Sothoth hummed, and something about it seemed calculative. You wanted to interject and ask Jeonghan what the hell he was talking about, but you felt like you were immobilized. “Very well, then.”
You looked at Seokmin to see if he understood what was going on, but he seemed just as confused as you were. Jeonghan just stared ahead, refusing to look either of you in the eye, and panic rose in your throat. You wanted to trust him, to confidently know that he wasn’t choosing you or Seokmin, but you really didn’t know who else it could have been.
Like Jeonghan told you before, demons didn’t care about anyone or anything. Only you and Seokmin were able to crack him open.
That was why horrifying realization was drawn across both of your faces. Jeonghan was choosing either you or Seokmin, and considering you were the reason he wanted to be mortal in the first place, you were terrified he was going to sacrifice Seokmin. And it seemed like Seokmin was terrified of that possibility, too.
You stood up and grabbed his shoulder. “Jeonghan, you—”
But before you could get any words out, you were sinking and the ground was swallowing you whole.
Everything went dark, and then silence followed.
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You had gone under anesthesia once in your life. It was back when you were thirteen and the doctors had to perform an appendectomy on you. Being sedated didn’t feel like sleeping at all; it felt like closing your eyes and then waking up to a weird jumpcut in your memory. You remembered being extremely disoriented at first, not even realizing what had just happened to you.
Now, as your eyes fluttered open, you felt the same way.
You were tucked in your bed, which had to have been impossible because you were in the living room when everything turned black. You sat up to gather your bearings. Your head was a mess for a second, unable to focus on one thing at a time.
Jeonghan. Seokmin. Yog-Sothoth. Twinkies. Sacrifice.
The words etched themselves in your bones until you felt dread seep in. If you were still in your bed, completely unharmed, that meant Jeonghan had gotten rid of Seokmin. You looked down at your hands, and you realized they were shaking before you could stop yourself.
“Jeonghan!” you yelled, furious. Before he could hurry to your room, you stormed out, fighting back tears. Just as you thought, he was rushing down the hallway to see you, but you weren’t in the mood for a happy reunion. “How could you?!”
He looked confused. “Didn’t… didn’t you want this? I’m human now, Y/N.” A bright smile broke across his face. “Yog-Sothoth split my soul, so Mammon’s back in Hell where he belongs, but I’m here to stay as a human.”
You punched his shoulder. Hard.
“Okay, ow,” he complained. “Y/N, I—”
“Don’t,” you warned. Your voice was wavering and you could feel your throat closing up. “I don’t wanna hear it after what you did to Seokmin. You promised me you wouldn’t kill him!”
As if on cue, the angel-blood, who was supposed to be dead, peaked into the hallway from where he was in the living room. He had a bowl of ice cream in his hands, shaking his head at you repeatedly.
“I’m not dead,” he clarified, even though you could very clearly see that. “I’m alive.”
“Oh.” You had to take a step back because now, you were more confused than ever. “You’re alive.”
“You sound disappointed. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna steal your boyfriend.”
“I’m not! I’m… really fucking confused—wait, you found out we’re dating, too?” You turned to look up at Jeonghan. “Wait, so who’d you sacrifice, then? What happened after I blacked out? I feel like I’m so in the dark right now.”
Jeonghan looked down at his feet, suddenly glum. “I sacrificed my pet.”
“Mount Fu—I mean, Doljjong? I thought it was dead already?”
“No, my other pet.” He showed you his phone screen, which was on an article about Mount Vesuvius going extinct. “Jjongddol.”
“Oh, another rock.” You tried to sound sympathetic, but it was hard to feel bad for a volcano. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“He’s not even sad about it!” Seokmin argued, pointing his spoon at Jeonghan in an accusatory manner. “He gaslit the Time God!”
Jeonghan huffed. “I am sad, okay! Just because it took me a while to remember his name doesn’t mean I don’t have fond memories with Doljjong!”
“Jjongddol,” you corrected.
“Oh, right—Jjongddol!”
You smiled, taking his face into your hands. “You know what this means, though?”
Jeonghan looked at you, eyebrows lifting in pleasant surprise. “What?”
(“Oh, Christ, they’re gonna start making out,” Seokmin muttered and hurried back to the couch. “I’m gonna look for movies on the TV, Jeonghan!”)
“It means we finally have all the time in the world to ourselves, Yoon Jeonghan.” You got on your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips, which he reciprocated almost immediately. “I’m a little sad I don’t have a guardian demon anymore, though, even if he sucked at his job.”
“Hey, I didn’t suck!” He pouted a little, which you laughed at. “Now, though, you get to show me how to be a proper human.”
“Oh, shoot. We need to find you a place to live since my lease only allows one person, and then we need to figure out getting your documents in order, and then—”
Jeonghan cut you off with a laugh. “I’m on board for all that, but I’d really like to celebrate my new life right now by watching a movie with my best friend and girlfriend.” He slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer, and you couldn’t help but giggle. “And then tonight I’d like to—”
“Alright, alright!” you interjected, feeling your face go hot. “You know, the demon part of you might be gone power-wise, but I don’t know about personality-wise.”
“You love it, though.”
“Jeonghan, let’s watch Superbad!” Seokmin called from the living room.
“Okay!” Jeonghan turned to you and held out his hand. “Come on. I heated up popcorn and even put in some jalapeños for you.”
“Hey.” You stopped him, and you weren’t exactly sure why, but you felt so overwhelmed by your emotions at the moment. There were so many forces against you two, yet you still managed to fight the odds. A constant storm you both battled to stay together, and only now you felt like you could finally breathe. So, when Jeonghan looked at you, the words came out naturally. “I love you.”
He looked at you for a moment, before his face broke into one of those heartbreakingly beautiful smiles again. “I love you, too, Y/N.”
Now it was your time to smile and grab his hand. “Let’s go watch that movie.”
“Oh, is Y/N watching with us?” Seokmin asked.
“This may come as a shock, but this happens to be my apartment, Seokmin.”
And, as you three watched the movie, you and Jeonghan kept your hands interlocked, unwilling to let go. You thought it was beautiful how two hands could touch and forge a bond like no other. It must have been why you and Jeonghan had made it past every obstacle that came hurtling your way.
In some parallel universe out there, some stream of reality that didn’t branch from Creation, you and Jeonghan were probably normal people who found each other naturally. In that world, neither of you had to go through all the pain and suffering to find each other, to finally end up in each other’s arms. 
But you would choose this reality over that one every single time. You would go through all the trails and tribulations for Jeonghan however many times you needed to because, at the end of the day, the love you two had for each other couldn’t compare to any other reality out there. 
And you would never admit it out loud, but he was right; your guardian demon didn’t totally suck at his job.
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wonustars · 10 months
Text
𝘋𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘔𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘏𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺
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Soobin vers. | Beomgyu vers.
txt as 5sos songs: you look so perfect.
Summary: yeonjun is a well known, attractive, and respected. you two are total opposites. the last thing that you would expect is for him to take interest in you. first meeting you at a coffee shop, he beomes a regular. constantly coming back to visit, but not just for the iced americanos.
Reposts are always appreciated/encouraged!! Tumblr works on reblogs not likes, Thank you for your support :)
Tags: nonidol!yj, popular!yj, campuscrush!yj, shy!asocial!reader, total opposites, opposites attract, yeonjun is so sweet and gives lots of reassurance, reader is a little angsty but still a lovely mc!
SMUT! MDNI 18+ only!
Warnings: dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, afab!reader, virgin!reader, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), fingering, mating press, creampie, bigdick!yeonjun,this one is more on the vanilla side.
Word count: 5k words
Note: this story contains smut so minors pls DNI! I mean it, if I see you interacting i will be blocking you. hellowwww!! a lot of people really liked the preview so, heres the full thing hehe. i like half assed with the proof read so let me know if i've missed any typos, tags or warnings!! my lovely Taehyun will be after this one :)
happy reading ~
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All your life you had been the one in the shadows. There are no major plot points or no “y/n moments” that people would use to describe Wattpad-like events. You weren’t upset about this though, the life you live is content, happy enough. 
A normal day-to-day for you consists only of two things, school, and working at the cafe across campus. Your life isn’t appealing to others, but you like how quiet it is. A quiet life with no disturbances, no drama, and no feelings of stress. It's a peculiar feeling to want something that seems so lonely.
The last time you witnessed a major disturbance in your life had to be the event that took place within the confines of your part-time job. Two men were trying to win the heart of a girl. Two attractive men at that. The whole time the three were quarrelling you wondered what it would feel like knowing someone wanted you that bad, that they would fight someone else to have you. 
It left an odd taste in your mouth, and a stinging feeling behind your eyes. 
“Hey… are you guys still taking orders?” a voice brings you out of your internal tangent. You perk up from the relaxed position you were in. Shamefully, you nod. Not wanting to make eye contact you head towards the register. 
“What can I get for you?” you ask, eyes trained on the ordering screen. 
“A large iced americano please, that’s all.” 
“And the name of the order?” you ask, a stupid question. No one else was in the cafe except you and this random guy. The music feels louder than it usually does, the embarrassment causes your ears to turn red. 
“Yeonjun.” 
..̇·𓏲 would you wanna run away too?
Yeonjun found himself coming to the cafe across campus more often now. The girl behind the counter piqued his interest, more than anyone he’s ever come across before. The energy you gave off, the fact that you were so shy? He couldn’t get you out of his head. So much so that he caught himself visiting you for his iced americano at least once a day. 
Yeonjun was never on the shy side, he had always been popular at school, living a life filled with social interaction. Everyone at school always adored him, not only for his looks but his charming personality. Which only made the fact that not being able to talk to you is a weird, new feeling for him. 
As much as he wanted to talk to you, he just didn’t know what to say. Where to start, how the conversation should come about. He was overthinking, and he also felt like it was wrong to only visit the cafe as an excuse to see you, like a stalker, although this is just some innocent crush. 
“A large iced americano please,” Yeonjun asks, giving you his sweetest smile. You glance up at him and give a slight nod. He has been coming to the cafe more often lately, you weren’t sure why but you weren’t complaining. A handsome customer becoming a regular was something that caused you to look forward to your shifts. 
“Is that all?” you ask, looking up to glance at his features again. Fuck he was so attractive. 
“Actually, there’s something else I wanted to ask.” Yeonjun declares, his face covered with a layer of determination. You don’t say anything, the feeling of anticipation bubbling in your stomach. “Can I also get your number?” 
Your eyes almost fell out of their sockets. Not in a million years could you have predicted that the handsome regular would ask for your number. 
“U-um yeah sure it’s  _” you're stuttering, no one ever asked for your number before. Is this the “y/n moment” so many people on the internet talk about? 
..̇·𓏲 you look so perfect standing there
As soon as you get home from your shift a notification lights up your screen. It was a foreign feeling to see your phone light up from a notification, let alone a message. Of course, you had friends, but they preferred to hang out in person rather than text. 
You already knew who it could be from, your cheeks heating up at the thought, and possibilities of what this notification might contain. Getting ready for bed quickly, you envelope yourself in your comforter. The light from your phone screen lights up your dark room. 
unknown number: hey, is this y/n? its yeonjun. from the cafe. 
you: Yes this is y/n :) 
yeonjun: hi! you got home safely, im glad. 
you: Yes I did, and so did you. I’m also glad. 
yeonjun: lol ya i hope i didn’t come off too strong earlier. i just want to get to know you more. 
you: No you didn’t, Its ok. I didn’t think you would even want my number. It was kind of a surprise. 
yeonjun: what ofc i would want your number, i think you’re really pretty. and you make good americanos
you: Thank you, it just wasn’t what i was expecting. Americanos arent rocket science tho, its literally water and espresso lol 
yeonjun: yeah ik but they taste so much better when you make them :)
It’s only been a few minutes since you and Yeonjun started talking over text, but your face has already turned into a deep shade of crimson. Throwing your phone across your bed, you shove your face into your pillow letting out a scream. The sound of your feet hitting your bed as you kick them and giggle like a mad woman. As you come back to your senses, you quickly remember that you have yet to reply. 
you: You flatter me Yj, you should keep coming back for them if you like them so much. 
yeonjun: yj? even my nickname sounds sweeter coming from you, but the Americanos weren’t the only thing i was coming back for. 
The smile on your face hurts your cheeks. Never has anyone made you feel like Yeonjun did as he texted you. The blatant flirting and numerous compliments realized how much you were missing out on while living your mundane student life. 
It had only been a few hours of texting each other back and forth, but you started to grow fond of the person Yeonjun is. He’s so handsome, not just in the face, but also with the way he carried himself. The impression he gives off is insanely attractive. The way he made you feel wanted, liked, and cherished over the simplest things reeled you in. 
..̇·𓏲 your lipstick stain is a work of art 
It’s been a few weeks since you and Yeonjun started talking but it has started to become a part of your daily routine. You’ve become accustomed to the many good morning and goodnight texts, the late night Facetime calls, and the blatant flirting from Yeonjun. 
He still comes into the cafe daily to grab his iced americano which you look forward to every shift. 
“Hey y/n!” a voice coming from the entrance grabs your attention. 
You’re working the lunch rush and have been trying to restock the pastries in the glass display. To your dismay they weren’t cooperating with you, leaving you frustrated and tired. A sigh of defeat leaves your lips and you turn your head over to the person calling your name. 
It’s him. The one person who makes your whole shift a little better. He looked so good walking through the door. His dark blue hair appeared more vibrant than usual, and the sun was hitting his face in the most heavenly way. Your heart was pumping hard, the flow of blood running to your ears and cheeks. 
Yeonjun walks up to you, and you notice someone following close behind him. Your eyes shift between the two of them. Assuming thoughts filling your head quickly. 
She is really pretty, you thought. 
They walk up to the counter together, laughing about something amongst themselves. It made your heart sink to the floor. The feeling in itself made you want to throw up. 
Quickly, you push it aside. You were not wanting your feelings to get in the way of your professionalism, especially at work. 
“Oh, hey Yeonjun and friend. What can I get for you guys?” you ask, smiling a little too hard, trying hard to act normal.
“Two americanos pleasee,” he answers, prolonging the ‘please’ with a little pout. If not for your current situation you would’ve found Yeonjun adorable. Your heart can only feel a stinging sensation at the view of the two in front of you. 
“Sounds good. They’ll be at the end of the counter for you guys,” you mumbled, not really making eye contact with Yeonjun. 
He senses your change in mood but didn’t want to make a fuss with a line slowly forming behind him. It’s the lunch rush after all, so he brushes it off for the time being. Leaving you to work, making a mental note to ask you about it when you’re off. 
..̇·𓏲 got your name tattooed in an arrow heart
Your shift felt longer than usual, probably due to the fact that you couldn’t get Yeonjun off your mind. The feeling in your chest still hasn’t subsided. Who are you to feel jealous about him hanging around other girls? Especially knowing that the two of you aren’t even together. With that tidbit of information circling your mind, you felt even more guilt for letting jealousy get the better of you. 
Not bothering to even check your phone, you focus on getting home quickly, wanting to take a shower as soon as you got back. Walking down the sidewalk your legs felt like jelly, thankfully you didn’t live that far from work. It was already past sunset and the light summer breeze whistled with every step you took. Five minutes and you’re already standing in front of your building. A sigh of relief leaves your lips as you stare up at the brown bricks towering over you, imagining your bed and the comfort it brings you. 
As you come closer to your building you see a figure leaning against the wall near the entrance. Your senses are heightened considering there usually aren’t many suspicious people who tend to hang around your building. The distance between you and this stranger has gotten smaller, revealing their identity. All the while your heart drops once again, but in relief. 
“Y/n! Hey sorry if I freaked you out. You weren’t answering my texts I thought something bad happened to you.” Yeonjun explained, coming closer to you. His scent fills your senses, calming you down in just a blink of an eye. Thank god it was just him and not some stalker. 
“Hi Junnie, sorry I didn’t answer you. I didn’t check my phone after I got off. How do you know where I live?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him, pretending to be suspicious of his actions. Your arms are crossed as you face towards him, his eyes are round as a globe. 
“U-uh sorry if I seem like a creep y/n-” he chuckles nervously as he scratches the back of his head “-I asked one of your friends because you usually shoot me text when you’re off work.” 
“Oh ok, and no I don’t think your creepy. We’ve known eachother long enough to know these types of things anyways.” You comfort him, patting his back as you tilt your head towards the entrance. Silently asking if he wanted to come upstairs with you. 
As if it didn’t exist in the first place, the feeling of jealousy brewing in your stomach disappeared. The only thing left was the warmth Yeonjun brought you, even though your relationship has been undefined. Unlabelled. He felt like a new world you had yet to explore. New experiences that you’re waiting to try. Although he was popular, especially with the women around campus, he was a total green flag. 
Yeonjun nods his head, giving you his signature heart stopper smile as you lead him up to your apartment.
The familiar air of the building envelopes you, both of your footsteps echoing as you slowly ascend up the stairs. It wasn’t too long of a trip since you live on the second floor. 
A warm hand intertwines with yours, causing the hair on your arms to stand. The chills running through your body like an electric shock. If you weren’t quick enough, you would’ve tripped on the next step; taking Yeonjun down with you. But you relax, squeezing his hand reassuringly as you allow him to continue to follow you. 
What felt like an eternity, was in reality only a minute or two. You and Yeonjun finally made it up to the front door of your home. Your hands staying intertwined even when you fetch your keys from the bottom of your bag. As you unlock the door, your shoulders instantly relax. This is what you’ve been dreaming of since the moment you clocked into work. 
“Well, this is me.” you turn to him, shyly smiling. It wasn’t much but you were happy here. 
He chuckles. “Its cute. It suits your vibe.” 
You can’t help but smile as you continue to drag him through the rest of your living space. He follows you obediently, taking in everything little by little. The whole place felt warm, cozy, familiar. Which is exactly how Yeonjun feels about you. 
“Im gonna take a shower and change. You can watch something while you wait if you’d like.” You beam up at him with his hand still glued to yours, both sets of eyes twinkling against the ambient lighting. In this specific lighting you found Yeonjun to be so pretty. The dim lighting accentuating his features; the pink tint to his lips, the sharpness of his nose, the admiration in his eyes. 
Distracted by your beauty, Yeonjun can only smile and nod. 
..̇·𓏲 dont move, honey
As you leave your room, you see Yeonjun sitting on your couch. Looks like he’s made himself at home, you thought. Giggling quietly to yourself, you close the door shut. The sound causing Yeonjun to move his eyes over to you. His eyes are stuck on your figure, he didn’t expect you to walk out in such little clothing. The lump in his throat gets harder to swallow as you make your way to him. 
Your definition of comfortable clothing is a oversized shirt and some sleep shorts. Yeonjun doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to be rude and keep staring but he just can’t tear his eyes off you. The way your wet hair is causing your shirt to dampen; giving a sneak peak at your breasts. Or the factt that your shorts barely covered any part of you, it almost looked like you weren’t wearing any at all. God, he felt like a pervert, you looked so good he couldn’t help but feel-
“Whatcha watching?” you inquire, sitting down beside him, dangerously close. 
“Hmm just some random youtube video I stumbled upon.” he shrugs, trying to look non-chalant, but in reality, he was screaming at himself for being so turned on right now. 
“Oh ok.” You turn your attention towards the TV, your body stiff as you think about the proximity between you and Yeonjun right now. It’s the frist time he’s been over, and it’s also the first time you’ve spent alone time in person. At this moment you can only wonder if he feels the same way you do. 
With that thought, the memory of the girl who accompanied him to the cafe ressurfaces. You wonder if she was something more to him, of if they are just friends. Silently you pray its the latter. The feelings you’ve grown for Yeonjun seems to strengthen with everyday and night that you two talk. Although its a sad thought, he has every right to talk to other people; especially since neither of you stated that you would be exclusive. You aren’t really an expert in these types of situations anyways. 
Ever since you were young, the only relationships you’ve experienced were through media or reading. Some of your friends would tell you about their dating experiences, but you had no stories of your own to share. You were never as outgoing as they were, and you also didn’t like the idea of going out as often as they did. Funnily enough you still ended up in a job where you had to talk to strangers. All of that had lead you to believe that you were better off living the single life, as sad as it sounds; it was true for a good portion of your life. 
Until Yeonjun. 
“H-hey can I ask you something?” you turn over to face your body towards Yeonjun, your eyes flashing with clear nervousness. He pauses the video turning towards you with curious eyes. 
“Yeah of course, anything.” He smiles at you, his hand patting your bare thigh reassuringly. The action causing your cheeks heat up almost instantly. 
“Who was that girl you were with earlier? I know it’s not my place to ask considering we’re just friends but I’ve been thinking about it all day. Obviously if you’re not comfy you do-,” He cuts you off, a giggle leaving his lips. 
“Shes just a friend. She’s dating Soobin so you don’t need to worry.” he reassures, his hand coming back to your thigh again, squeezing it lightly, but this time he keeps it there. Your heartbeat is now in your throat as you look down at his hand. The veins running along his arms were prominent; the fact that his whole hand could grip more than half your thigh caused an unfamiliar heat to flow down to your lower body. 
“O-oh, ok just pretend I didn’t ask that then,” you mumble, your eyes still focused on the way he was no rubbing your thigh. It felt good to experience this type of skinship with him, even if it wasn’t all that much. It still has you stumbling over your words. 
“I thought you knew I liked you already y/n. I thought you knew from the moment I asked for your number.” he whispered, his face coming closer to yours. 
Your breath hitched not being able to move your eyes away from his lips. 
“U-um I didn’t know. No ones ever shown interest in me.” you confess, your head now turned down towards your hands as you play with them nervously. 
“Thats ok baby, I’m interested in you. I like you.” Yeonjun states firmly. His finger carefully placed under your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. The look in his eyes sent a chill down your spine. This is the first time you’ve seen Yeonjun look so serious. You couldn’t help but gulp. 
“I like you too Junnie.” you whisper, your eyes locked on his. Smiling, Yeonjun strokes your cheek with his thumb. The warmth of his hand still burning onto your thigh. 
“Fuck y/n It’s so hard for me to hold back when you call me that.” His tone is low. Staring at your lips, he begins to trace their outline. 
“What? Junnie?” you provoke, matching his tone. A groan almost leaves his lips but instead his grip on your thigh only tightens. 
“May I kiss you y/n?” Yeonjun’s polite words are a stark contracts as to all the thoughts brewing in his head. You seem to have lost your voice, only nodding as you slowly try to close the gap. 
With Yeonjun’s lips on yours he grips your waist pulling you onto his lap in a swift motion. You can’t help but yelp at how easily he can move you around. It was like you were his own personal ragdoll. Wrapping your arms around his neck, he deepens the kiss.
This is your first time kissing someone but you’re glad your first is Yeonjun. Not only do you have feelings for him, but he tasted so good. It felt so wrong but right at the exact same time. 
The two of you continue to kiss passionately, and you feel yourself naturally move with the flow. Your hips starting to move back and forth slightly as Yeonjun guides you with his large hands. A tiny gasp escapes your lips as you feel something hard rub against your core. Although this was all new to you, it was like you already knew what to do. Yeonjun takes the opportunity to allow his tongue to enter your mouth. This surprises you, pulling away you say,
“Junnie I-i’ve never done anything like this before.” you squeaked, burying your face into his neck. He rubs his hands up and down the sides of your thighs, soothing you. 
“Thats alright princess, I can show you how. Will you let me?” he asks, his hands moving to take your face away from the space between his shoulder and neck. Brushing the hair out of your face, he tucks the strands behind your ear. The action in itself can only cause your cheeks to burn a deep red. Everything Yeonjun did always had you feeling like the most cherished girl in the world. You can only nod as his actions have left you speechless. 
“With your words princess.” he demands, a hand snakes down to your hips giving you an encouraging squeeze. 
“Yes Junnie, please show me how,” you murmur. Steadily, you move closer to him wanting to close the gap between you two again. You want to feel the same way you did when your bodies were pressed up against eachother. 
“Alright darling, just let me know if it gets too much for you ok? I’ll only go as far as you let me.” 
“Yes Junnie.”
“Good girl.” his hands are back on your hips, his lips back on yours. The wet sounds coming from both your mouths have you riled up. Yeonjuns back to moving your hips back and forth, desperately wanting to increase the friction. The sensation of his hard dick rubbing against you was addicting. Your thin shorts not really leaving anything up to imagination. 
Yeonjun can only groan, the feeling of your warm cunt against his cock is driving his crazy. He can only wonder how it must feel to be inside you. 
“F-feel’s good Jun.” you moan into the kiss, your hips now moving on their own accord. 
“You like that princess?” he chuckles, peppering kisses along your neck and collarbone, leaving love bites in his tracks. Slowly his hands creep up under your shirt. It lifts ups as his hands move higher. They almost hit your bare breasts, but before he proceeds he looks up to you for approval. You can only nod, dazed from all your senses going into overdrive. 
Yeonjun doesn’t waste any time and removes your shirt. You’re left bare in front of him, the blush on your cheeks still noticeable in the dim lighting. 
“You’re beautiful love,” he assures, going back to his ministrations. Kissing up and down your neck until he reaches your breasts. He takes one in his hand and the other one in his mouth. You can only moan, your head lolling back from the pleasure. Hands gripping onto his hair for some type of balance. 
Yeonjun is rock hard under you, the pulse in his dick only getting more noticable the more he pleasures you. He wants to show you how much he wants you, to show you how much you deserved to be cherished. 
Tongue swirling around your nipple, your moans become less shy, the feeling of being pleasured taking over you. Yeonjuns mouth moving onto the other nipple as he picks you up. You yelp from the sudden movement but wrap your legs around his waist anyways. 
His feet padding towards your bedroom, he opens the door. Gently he places you on your mattress, situating himself between your legs.
“Are you still doing ok over there sweetheart?” he inquires. 
“Really ok Junnie, please keep going. Want more.” you whimper, your elbows stablizing you as you get a good view of him. He begins to remove your shorts, your pussy glistening from how wet he’s gotten you. A groan bubbles up in Yeonjuns throat; just looking at you in this light could make him cum. 
He makes himself comfortable with his head between your thighs. Taking things slow, he uses one finger to play with your entrance. Rubbing you all over, collecting your wetness before he finally pushes a finger in. 
You moan, your elbows collapsing from the pleasure. You grip your sheets as he pumps his finger in and out of you. The lewd sounds of your soaking core bouncing off the walls. After a few more pumps he adds in another finger, the stretch burning so good.
He looks up at you to see you whimpering for him, his name leaving your mouth in what sounded like a sweet melody. The way your brows scrunch with his every moves turns him on even more. Watching you coming undone on his fingers is a sight he wants to see everyday if he could.
“Let me taste you baby.” Yeonjun says with a deep tone to his voice. Every word coming out of his mouth is dripping with lust. With that warning he places a kiss on your clit, your hands moving from your sheets to grip his hair. He continues to kitten lick and suck on your sensitive bud, the pleasure sending you to another universe. 
“O-oh Junnie, it feels so good.” you squeak out. He places your legs over his shoulders, delving into you more. He’s properly eating you out now, his fingers pumping in and out of your wet heat while licking you all at the same time. As he goes on, an unfamiliar feeling starts to brew in your stomach; growing stronger as more time passed. 
“I can feel your pussy gripping my fingers baby, cum for me. I know you can do it, just let go.” Yeonjun purrs, his words of encouragement is your last straw before your orgasm. 
“Good girl, so good for me. You’re doing so well my love.” he’s praising you as he moves back up to your face. Hes smirking at you as he hovers over your naked body. His own body still in between your legs, the lower half of his face glistening with your juices. 
“Can I fuck you princess?” he asks.
The vulgar words spewing from his mouth, the way he asks so nicely, the way he calls you such sweet names; the polarity of it all gives you whiplash. 
“Yes please, wanna feel you inside me.” you mumble and you press kissing all along his face, moving down towards his neck. You found it so attractive how he always asks for your consent. 
He quickly undresses, both your clothes randomly thrown around the room. Situating himself between your legs once again, he sits himself on his heels. Pumping his length a few times he then rubs the tip up and down your slit, collecting your juices. The squelching sound of your lips rubbing against his him is like music to his ears. 
Yeonjun finally enters you, causing your back to arch with every inch he slowly puts in. You’ve only heard about sex through friends, but being able to experience it yourself is on another level. The stretch of his cock pushing inside you stings more than when he was fucking you with his fingers. 
“Mmm Junnie I think you’re too big,” you whimper while hes pressing kisses all over your face to soothe you. 
“It’s ok love, it’ll feel better as it goes on ok?” Yeonjun groans, as he keeps pushing into you. He continues till hes dick is buried deep inside you. Stilling for a moment, he lets you get used to the feeling. The scrunched up look on your face begins to relax, giving him a signal to start thrusting into you. 
“Fuck baby you feel so good around me.” he whispers. 
At first hes slow, but the sound of your wet pussy getting fucked by his dick starts to fog his thoughts. Your moans increase in volume, his name falling off your lips repeatedly. 
“Junnie, hmmm it feels so good. Faster please.” you beg as your wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him down for another kiss. Who is he to deny you? 
He fucks into you faster, this time you can hear the slapping sounds as his length goes in and out of you. One of his hands moving between the two of you to rub your clit and his thrusts to turn sloppy. 
Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head the more Yeonjun pumps his dick into you. You could feel his length kiss your cervix with every thrust. This is all so new to you, and the only thing you could do is keep moaning and telling him how good it felt.
“This pussy was made for me. Isn’t it baby?” he states rather than asks.
“Y-yes Jun.” you’re a stuttering mess, you could barely answer him as it is.
“Taking me so well princess. I wanna fuck you like this all the time now.” he praises again, taking your thighs and pressing them towards your stomach. The new angle causes you to whimper, you can feel him so much deeper. Your gummy walls are practically suctioning him.
You moan in response. He’s fucked you dumb at this point, cock drunk with every move he makes inside your wet cunt.
“Can I cum inside you baby?” he asks in between kisses. 
“Please Junnie, wanna feel you cum in me.” you moan, the feeling of your clit being stimualted as he fucks you is causing you to see stars. You cum around him, gripping his dick as you ride out your second orgasm. As if on queue Yeonjun relases his cum inside you, halting his thrusts. He continues to kiss you making sure you feel loved and wanted, his member still buried inside you. 
“You were amazing for your first time princess.” he praises you once again, you kiss him in response. 
“Lets do it again please.” you giggle. 
Yeonjun kisses up your neck, his cock still rock hard. 
“Whatever you want love.” he responds, thrusting into you again. 
© wonustars
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sinterblackwell · 2 years
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imagine me saying this in a teary voice because i’m really that emotional but like honestly, i will never stop thinking about the fact that even though nereus & shar are most likely not to have their own story, the author still paid special attention to them within another main couple’s story and showed so much development in their relationship through eavesdropped conversations and small moments they shared in public.
she showed intimate scenes between them that while i would have loved to see through their eyes, they still made my breath catch and these weren’t even our main characters, yet for some reason i loved them so much more…there’s just something really special about them and how they got together.
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thestarkinternship · 3 months
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Gorgeous
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: One Shot (Smut)
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Summary: You have a boyfriend, and Bucky knows this. But there's nothing that the two of you hate more than what you can't have.
Word Count: 2.8k (no mention of Y/N)
Warnings: profanity, drinking, unprotected sex, fingering, hair pulling, cheating, praise, slight exhibitionism (communal area of the compound), 18+, minors DNI!
A/N: Okay I'm slowly finding my footing in writing stuff like this, but I'm really happy with how this turned out. Inspired by the song Gorgeous by Taylor Swift - expect a lot more one shots inspired by songs, I have a whole list!
-
"I can't believe your boyfriend let you come here alone tonight."
You turned your head to see Bucky Barnes, with his signature smirk plastered on his face. Great. So much for a chilled night in of drinks with your teammates. Now you'd be spending the whole evening staring at his stupidly smug face. A face that was impossibly good looking. His jawline alone looked like it could've been carved from stone, and his full lips that were only good for sarcastic comments.
Stop it. You have a boyfriend. You scolded yourself.
Instead, you tried to remind yourself of the negatives (not that there were many). Beneath the obvious attraction, you found his arrogant yet charming personality infuriating. And that was before you guys added alcohol into the mix.
Leaning back against the counter to your side, his arm brushed up against yours. The supple leather of his jacket sparked tension and goosebumps as it glided across the exposed skin of your bare arm.
You rolled your eyes at him, shifting to put a little much needed distance between the pair of you for good measure. You wanted to ignore him. To not bite at his obvious flirtatious taunts. But you couldn't resist. "What? You mean I can't hang out with friends without my boyfriend's approval? He doesn't own me, you know. I can do whatever I damn well please."
Bucky's smile twisted into a crooked grin as he raised his mismatched hands in defence. "Alright, alright. You're your own woman and all that. So, if he's not here tonight breathing down your neck, where is he?"
"He's at a club downtown." You told him, reaching for a bottle of liquor. If you were going to have this conversation about your missing boyfriend with the most infuriating member of the team, you definitely needed another drink.
"Oh yeah? And what's so important that he's gotta tear himself away from you?" Bucky asked, cocking his head to one side.
"God knows what." You muttered under your breath. The truth was, your relationship had been rocky for a while. You couldn't seem to agree on anything lately. And spending time together? You'd forgotten what that felt like. More and more, he had been staying out late, every feeble excuse causing deeper cracks in your fragile love life.
But you didn't need to say any of this to his face. It was like Bucky could read your mind. Now, he looked you up and down. "Well, he's really missing out."
Bucky's flirting, whilst harmless most of the time, was really starting to get to you tonight. And he looked so gorgeous doing it that it made you mad.
"Why are you with him anyway? Isn't he a little old for you?" He teased, sipping his drink. The ice cubes bobbed in his whiskey, clinking against the crystal glass.
"He's not that much older than me," you pointed out, "God forbid I dare to like an older man."
"Maybe it's not the fact that you like an older man that I'm questioning." Bucky mumbled under his breath.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Your eyes narrowed. But no sooner had the question left your lips had you started to figure out the intention of his words all by yourself.
Could it be the fact that you were dating an older man that wasn't him?
Not wanting to wait for Bucky to confirm this thought, you downed your glass and walked off to find Natasha. Maybe it was the quick rush of alcohol as it flooded your senses, but your heart was definitely beginning to beat faster.
-
You had managed to avoid Bucky for the rest of the night. Every time you caught his eye, you quickly redirected your gaze elsewhere. You engrossed yourself in gossip with Natasha, in jokes with Sam, and in drinking games with Yelena. But not even the best distraction in the world could take away the thoughts of your earlier conversation with the super soldier. And when your boyfriend text you, saying not to bother waiting up for him, it only got worse. Why were you so concerned with maintaining a relationship with someone who didn't share the same sentiment?
"Hey, I think i'm gonna head to bed." Natasha slurred after a while, nudging you slightly and pulling you from your thoughts into the present. Her eyes seemed weary as her drunken state turned into one of exhaustion.
"It is getting quite late." You sighed and scanned the room. The once full lounge had dwindled into strays as the Avengers slowly retired to bed one by one as the night had gone on. Now, only a couple remained. You finally couldn't resist sneaking a glance at Bucky across the room. Almost immediately, your brain spiralled and you had unwillingly allowed your mind to once again be consumed by him.
Biting your lip, you tried not to admire the way he looked tonight. Maybe it was the drinks taking effect, but even you had to admit Bucky was looking better than ever. His black t-shirt pulled taunt across his chest, looking like it could rip open with even the smallest twitch of his muscles. That particular image lingered in your mind longer than you would've liked, or cared to admit. Lustful thoughts suppressed those of guilt. Granted, simply possessing sinful ideas wasn't cheating. But if you didn't get rid of them soon, who knows what they might cause you to do?
Natasha hopped off the bar stool, her feet wobbling as she reached the ground. "You coming?"
As you looked into her eyes, it was clear that she knew something was up with you. But she couldn't quite put her finger on what. Maybe that was for the best.
"I think I might hang out here for a little longer." You said slowly, trying to keep your voice light and casual.
"You sure?" Natasha pushed, her eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion.
"Yeah, I'm not really tired." You shrugged, giving her a small smile in an attempt to appease her curiosity.
After a long minute, Natasha relaxed. "Okay. If you insist."
You exhaled a small sigh of relief. "Goodnight, Nat. See you at training tomorrow."
The red head squeeze your arm gently as she left. Sat there alone, you realised how quiet the large room had become. You nursed your empty glass for a moment longer before setting it down on the counter top. In the absence of the party music, the clink it made against the marble surface was deafening in the newfound silence. You swore you actually saw Bucky flinch a little bit from the opposite side of the room.
"What are you still doing up? You waiting for your boyfriend or something?" He asked quietly.
"He's… he's not coming back tonight," you mumbled, "apparently going out with people he doesn’t even know is more important than my feelings."
Bucky's eyes filled with pity as he looked at you. "Oh, that's- i'm sorry…"
"Don't be. It's not your fault that my relationship's on the rocks." You mumbled, even though deep down, you knew that wasn't exactly the truth.
"It is?" He asked. Curiosity got the better of him, and Bucky closed the distance between the two of you as he walked over.
You nodded, not trusting your words until you gave yourself time to think.
"Am I allowed to ask why? Or are you going to ignore me again like you have for the whole night?" His tone was mocking, but underneath there was a softer edge. Bucky had been hurt by your ignorance.
You sighed, feeling bad about how you were acting towards him. It wasn't fair, but what could you say? You hesitated a little, but decided to be honest. "You should take it as a compliment that i'm talking to everyone here but you."
Bucky's face twisted in confusion. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
It was now or never.
"Every time I look into your eyes, I feel like I might sink and drown and die." You whispered. You had never meant it more than you did in that moment. Right now, they were flashing deep blue, a vast ocean as he studied you.
But the truth was finally out there, and Bucky was just as surprised as you were that you had finally come out with it. He stayed quiet, and you took the opportunity to continue.
"I can't stop myself from being attracted to you."
"You have a boyfriend." He muttered, looking away.
"I know. And there's nothing I hate more than what I can't have. That's why i'm so furious at you for making me feel this way."
Bucky's jaw clicked as his eyes flickered up and down your face, waiting for you to say you were messing with him. When you didn't, he groaned at the position you were putting him in. Finally, his flirtatious comments had wormed their way into your head, and he didn't know how to behave anymore. He wanted you. He had been wanting you ever since he'd laid eyes on you.
With the increasing urge to act on his heart rather than his head, Bucky's resilience weakened. As you stood in front of him, cheeks flushed rosy with nerves and eyes bright with what could only be described as hope, his heart pounded in his chest.
Then, he decided to hell with it - if you could be honest, so could he. "You're ruining my life by not being mine, doll."
Fuck it.
Your lips were on his in a second, taking his breath away and keeping it for yourself. Curling your hands through his hair, you pulled his head closer as your nails scratched lightly at the nape of his neck. He hissed into your mouth slightly, and the sound faded into a soft moan. His hands ran down your back to your hips, digging into the soft flesh. Tracing the waistband of your skirt, Bucky smirked as he heard your delicate breathing hitch. He pulled back an inch, equally as flustered.
"Tell me what you want."
"I want you." You whispered.
His lips sucked at the sweet spot on your neck before leaning into your ear. "Mm, is that so? What about-"
"Don't say his name. Not now." You whispered.
His wrists jerked violently, spinning you around in his arms. His chest pressed up against your back, his heart beating fast. Bucky's lips met your neck in gentle kisses, and your head fell slack back against his shoulder. Goosebumps arose as he gently teased your skin. Pulling your hips back with his left hand, he pushed your back forwards with his right. You barely had enough time to brace yourself before your front sprawled out across the marble. The cold from his vibranium fingertips spread like a chill up your spine.
Before you could protest, you felt his hand slide up the inside of your thighs. He lifted the hem of your skirt up, deliberating taking his time as he marvelled at the slow reveal of your bare skin. Shivering, your hips pushed back needily against his. He groaned under his breath as he felt your desperation. Through his tight jeans, you could feel his hardening cock straining in the denim.
His fingertips brushed the edge of your panties, already slick with your arousal. He toyed with the damp fabric, moving it aside before pushing one finger gently into you. That first moment of intimate contact between the two of you was heavenly. As Bucky's finger stroked upwards against that sweet spot, you bit your lip to suppress a moan.
"Don't be shy, princess. It's okay, I know how much you want this," Bucky murmured, daring to add another finger, "let me hear those pretty sounds."
When he added that second finger, you were done for. Your mouth fell open and you couldn't hold back any more. They curled inside of you, brushing that sensitive spot over and over again. With your eyes rolling back into your head, you finally gave in to him and let out every single noise you'd been holding back. The soft cries fell from your lips as he pushed you so close to the edge with his fingers alone.
"That's it, baby. God, you sound like heaven. Can't wait to hear what noise you make when I finally take you."
Just as you teetered the edge of your orgasm, he snapped you back from that ledge with the sudden loss of his touch. You opened your mouth to complain when you heard the metal buckle of his belt clatter as he undid it. Bucky stepped closer, and you felt the head of his cock push between your folds. Nudging your legs slightly further apart, Bucky leaned against you. He rubbed back and forth slowly, every second feeling like an hour.
"Are you sure you want this?" He asked in a hushed voice. It was a sharp contrast to how his previous behaviour, but his need for your consent on actually going through with cheating on your boyfriend outweighed his desire for you.
You hesitated, the reality of what was about to happen finally settling in your brain. As guilty as you felt, this was what you wanted. For so long, you had felt so much shame in your pining. But Bucky wasn't judging you for it. He was more than willing to comply, if it was what you truly wanted. And in that moment with one simply nod, you decided that it was.
With that, his hands trailed up to your hips, gripping slightly as he eased into you. Your breathing hitched at the stretch as your body adjusted to his size. It wasn't like your boyfriend was small, but damn - Bucky was something else entirely.
He didn't stop until he was fully seated in you, his hips meeting yours. The sensation was everything you imagined and more. Filled to the brim with the breath knocked out of you, your eyelids fluttered shut.
"Fuck, doll. Look at you, taking it all so well." His sweet murmurs fell from his lips as he breathed heavily.
He drew his hips back slowly, before moving back in. Bucky listened to your quiet purrs, carefully increasing his pace the more he sensed you relaxed. Before long, he was pounding into you as fast as his body would allow. He kept his focus on the sight of you in front of him, back arched across the counter top taking every inch of him that he had to give you. His hand slid up your back, reaching for your hair and grasping it in his fist. You whimpered as he tugged on your hair, forcing your head upwards. It was something you'd never done before and by the way your walls clenched around him, Bucky could tell you were enjoying it.
"Feel so good around me…" Bucky breathed, his grip on your hips getting tighter with every thrust.
Every sharp thrust from him pushed you closer to the edge that he had previously kept you from. But this time, Bucky had no intention of stopping. Your body jerked underneath him, feet leaving the ground with every swift snap of his hips. Tiny stars clouded your vision, and you reached out to grasp the counter top to steady yourself from his relentless rhythm. Your jaw fell slack open, struggling to get any noise out besides heavy pants.
"Bucky, I-" You eventually managed to choke out.
"I know, doll. I know. Let go." He moaned.
With his permission, you finally allowed yourself to reach your climax. Tiny gasps and whimpers slipped out from you as you squeezed around his cock one final time. The pulsing sensation was all it took to send Bucky spiralling after you. He let out a string of curse words through gritted teeth as he spilled deep inside of you. Bucky stayed where he was for a moment, allowing you both a minute to catch your breath before pulling out. You winced at the sudden empty feeling, a dull ache from the absent presence of him already settling between your thighs. Bucky pulled your soaked panties back into place and readjusted your skirt back to its original position. Slowly, you eased yourself up from the counter top he had had you pressed firmly against. Turning to look at him, you saw that his cheeks were just as red as yours. The corners of his lips turned into a smile as he saw your face again, and you couldn't help but match it.
"So," he chuckled, "about you not being mine…"
Glancing down at the ground, your blush deepened. The last few minutes had cemented everything you had been wondering for weeks. The feelings in your heart had always belonged to Bucky, even if the common sense in your brain had not. Yeah. You and your boyfriend were definitely over after this.
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mahgyu · 3 months
Note
For valentines, what happens if reader gets a secret confession but it’s not from the jjk man who was going to confess? Would they be jealous? Confess anyway? Not confess?
JJK Men: Secret Admirer
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• — You receive a Valentine's Day gift from an anonymous person but they have deeper feelings for you.
๑ Featuring: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro and Ryomen Sukuna.
๑ Content: Fem!Reader, SFW, relationship not established, fluff
๑ a/n: First, thank you very much to everyone who sent an ask with suggestions, I really was super happy reading each one of them and I intend to write them soon. Second, I should have posted this sooner but I ended up getting too busy (*crying*) anyway, I hope you like it. It was a little long but that's a detail.
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⸺ㅤGOJO
Gojo was extremely happy and confident when he saw you approaching him with a heart-shaped box of chocolates. He never imagined that you also had the idea of waiting to confess on Valentine's Day, let alone that you would reciprocate his feelings. However, the wide smile gradually faded as you told him about the box of chocolates and the anonymous note that were mysteriously left on his desk. He could barely conceal his obvious disappointment, but he would maintain his usual laid-back attitude. Gojo became curious to learn more about the sudden confession, likely from one of his coworkers, and even tried to joke about it, hiding any jealousy behind his charm and confidence. But believe me, he'll spend quite a few days looking suspiciously at all his fellow sorcerer colleagues (just like that scene of him on the plane). He might even encourage you to follow your feelings, but always saying that you're capable of achieving something much better, like him, for example.
⸺ㅤGETO
Geto would be more reserved in expressing his feelings about this, but deep down, he would feel a twinge of jealousy and disappointment. Geto couldn't help but feel uneasy when he saw you with a bouquet of flowers in your hand while enjoying their fresh scent, and the card in your hand did not go unnoticed by him. He would try to maintain a calm facade, but could subtly show signs of discomfort. When you mentioned that you didn't know who had given them to you because it was signed anonymously, Geto couldn't help but let out a low scoff. Nevertheless, he was determined to invite you to dinner at the best restaurant in the area, and if you accepted, you can be sure that he would pick you up at your house with an even larger and more beautiful bouquet than the one you received from your secret admirer.
⸺ㅤNANAMI
Nanami would maintain a calm posture, seeming almost disinterested, but inside, he would feel a twinge of sadness and jealousy. When Nanami found her in the corridors of Jujutsu High, he almost couldn't hide his surprise when he saw you wearing the same necklace he was thinking of buying for you as a gift when he decided it was the right time to bring his own feelings to light. Nanami was courteous, complimenting how well the necklace suited you, which he always imagined when he saw the jewel in the jewelry store's window. Nanami was even more surprised when he heard her recount that the jewel, along with a Valentine's Day card and a beautiful bouquet of flowers, had been left at the entrance of her apartment by some delivery person. You also mentioned being was afraid of the gifts precisely because they were anonymous and the anonymous person knew your address, but the jewel was so beautiful and looked so good on you that it was impossible not to wear it. Nanami was quick to warn you about how dangerous this situation could be, trying not to let his imprudent jealousy show and trying not to be affected by the adorable pout you made while quietly repeating how beautiful the necklace was. After that incident, he probably wouldn't confess his own feelings immediately, but you can expect to be presented with the same piece of jewelry the next day by Nanami while he tries to maintain a stoic demeanor and disguise it as much as possible, saying that he noticed how much you liked the piece. I can say that he felt the once dormant butterflies in his stomach stir when you asked him for help putting the necklace around your neck.
⸺ㅤCHOSO
Choso would be sincere about his feelings and would express his sadness directly, but lovingly. Choso didn't even know about the particular celebratory date, and discovering it when asking about the cute puppy plush and heart-shaped card you were carrying might have been somewhat disheartening for him. Choso is emotionally open and loyal, so even though it left him vulnerable, he didn't hesitate to confess his own feelings after your brief explanation about Valentine's Day and your gift from a possible secret admirer. "I would have bought gifts and cards for you myself if you had told me about Valentine's Day earlier...", those puppy eyes looking at you so truthfully that words couldn't even escape his lips. "If I had confessed first, maybe they wouldn't have gifted it to you before me". You could easily hear the guilt and regret in his voice. However, your comforting words soon dispel all of Choso's sadness. And later, when you find the plush you received from the anonymous sender with its head torn off, Choso will be hiding a smug little smile as he remembers what he did.
⸺ㅤTOJI
Toji would likely react with a mixture of indifference and jealousy disguised as a joke. When Toji saw you with the chocolates and the red card in your hands, he didn't care much because he didn't even remember it was Valentine's Day. All he did was steal some chocolates from the box when you weren't around, and only after eating at least half of the box did he read the note next to it. Toji would try not to show too much emotion, so when you returned, he had to disguise his jealousy. "A secret admirer, huh? When your little boyfriend decides to reveal himself, tell him not to buy cheap crap for you. Even I wouldn't be able to buy such a lousy chocolate to give to someone as a gift." He wouldn't confess directly, but later that day, he gave you another box of chocolates that were even better than the ones you received from the anonymous sender. However, when you opened the box, half of those chocolates were missing too.
⸺ㅤSUKUNA
Sukuna would act with arrogance and disdain, trying to belittle the other's confession and show that he doesn't care. You were rereading the Valentine's Day card you received, with a beautifully handwritten poem for you, and what intrigued you the most was that it was signed anonymously. Although you quite enjoyed having a secret admirer, feeling like a protagonist from one of the books you often read. When Sukuna finds you, your silly smile doesn't go unnoticed by him. He approaches you curiously and, despite your protests, snatches the delicate card from your hands. As he reads the poem dedicated to you, Sukuna feels a painful twinge of jealousy and even a dark desire to uncover the author of the confession. Without much thought, Sukuna easily tears the card apart, tossing the crumpled pieces onto the ground as he ignores your protests. "What's your problem? Why did you do that?" You angrily question as you bend down to gather the remnants of your poem. Sukuna would feel another pang of jealousy; "I'll rip the hands off the worm who wrote this garbage so they can never write crap again", he would think.
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Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, forgive me for possible mistakes🩷
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targaryenluvs · 6 months
Text
— HUNGER GAMES
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a/n: look at my cute lil smiley fin 😭 god i love hunger games so much you don’t understand it’s my comfort movies and finn is my comfort character ❤️
RED MARKED STORIES HAVE DARK THEMES. READ WARNINGS PLEASE.
FINNICK ODAIR
— want and desire (req) dark themes
— summary: you’d thought you’d escaped the capitol, and to some extent, him, the ever so sweet and charming finnick odair. but apparently your fate had been signed, as it seemed you couldn’t get away from him, no matter how hard you tried.
— spring cleaning (blurb req)
— summary: finnick finally decides to clean out the garage with your help after you asking him forever.
— victors spoils
— summary: a victor should be celebrated! a victor should get what ever they wish, even if it’s a sweet capitol girl who misplaced her kindness in someone who was in desperate need of reprieve and distraction.
— lonely waters
— summary: even if you resided in the fishing district you only ever got close to the water for swimming late at night. it was your favourite time of the day, but it leaves you open and vulnerable to predators and people, the water won’t save you.. silly girl, don’t you remember? finnick odairs a champion swimmer.
— my people ft annie cresta
— summary: you’d been hired to help keep annie’s home clean and to keep her company. what you didn’t expect was to fall in love with her. and to find out that she was with finnick, and annie doesn’t want to let either of you go. but you’ve found your people, and you couldn’t be happier.
— miss officer
— summary: you’re tasked with training finnick odair for war and to fight in the captiol. only problem? he’s completely enamoured with you.
— breakups and makeups
— summary: you and finnick used to date, but it took a nasty turn when you heard rumours of his dalliances. but now the two of you reunite apart of the same alliance. will you make up or break up? again?
— damage control & lifeline (anon blurb)
— summary: finnick and his mentor getting into a fake relationship for damage control after peeta and katniss’ stunt at the 74th games + finnick saving his stylist from execution by proposing marriage.
— unrequited (anon blurb, implied smut)
— summary: you’d divulged one to many secrets to your favourite victor and he wasn’t afraid of using them against you. karmas a bitch!
— oh baby! (smut)
— summary: finnick found you to be as cute as ever. but you aren’t exactly the smartest in the room according to him. luckily, finnicks more than happy to help his sweet baby succeed, and he will not let you forget him.
— capitol girl (req blurb)
— summary: finnick loves his favourite victor.
— love you best part two (req, smut)
— summary: your boyfriend doesn’t exactly like you around other men without him.
CORIOLANUS SNOW
— trapped
— summary: after the 10th hunger games, coriolanus set his sights on a girl from his younger years to be his wife. disgusted by his actions and scared by the rumours your family agreed. as you realise he wasn’t the same boy from before, snow finds himself intrigued, especially when you seem to be visiting a friends house too often.
— delicate*
— summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?
— ravage delicate pt 2
— summary: he’d won the election, much to your elation. now you’d have to navigate the fame, fortune and status as the first lady of panem. but coriolanus just wanted you all to himself, and he’d do anything to scare you into his arms.
— safe and sound ft lucy gray baird
— summary: somehow you’d ended up in the games, snow and lucy would do anything to keep you safe.
— worth it
summary: coriolanus made the mistake of protecting lucy gray during the bombing, rather than you.
— runaway
summary: you’d always considered coriolanus to be a friend of yours. family even. but after sejanus’s death you find him to be off. he’s keeping something from your family and you’ve run out of time to get as far away as you can.
— our little dove ft lucy gray baird
— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.
— our little dove alt ending
— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.
— late to the party
— summary: after corio was sent away to district 12, your managed to come to terms with the fact that he did not love you by any means. but what happens when he realises he liked that affection? and what happens when you’re already in a relationship?
— brown jewel (req)
— summary: he was a lifeline and you’d grabbed on in hopes to avoid the reaping, but you were coriolanus’ obsession and he was not going to let you go.
— temper tantrum (req)
— summary: you were the daughter of one of the richest couples of panem. everything you’ve ever wanted, handed to you. coriolanus had a short temper and you were stubborn. who knows what could happen?
— mr president (req)
— summary: mr president seems to be especially enamoured with his favourite maid, you.
— all grown up (smut)
— summary: you were always tigris's annoying rich friend to coriolanus, but once he returns from 12 you seem to be irresistible, not only to him.
— charity (req)
— summary: president snow was praised for his love and devotion to his wife, a cripple. if only they knew how you’d ended up that way.
— love you best (req, smut, read as coryo or finnick)
— summary: your boyfriend doesn’t like you around other men without him.
PEETA MELLARK
— sweet like sugar (blurb req)
— summary: peeta teaches you how to bake since you’re nowhere near as good as you thought, not that you’d admit it.
—paranoia (dark req)
— summary: peeta tries to reintegrate into society in district 13 and get over his fear of you being taken from him. no one noticed just how badly the capitol messed him up until he lashes out.
SEJANUS PLINTH
— coming soon!
LUCY GRAY BAIRD
— safe and sound ft coriolanus snow
— summary: somehow you’d ended up in the games, snow and lucy would do anything to keep you safe.
— destined
— summary: you and lucy enjoy time together at the lake.
—our little dove ft coriolanus snow
— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.
— our little dove alt ending
— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.
KATNISS EVERDEEN
— coming soon!
JOHANNA MASON
— underestimate (blurb req)
— summary: johanna learns not to underestimate you.
ANNIE CRESTA
— my people ft finnick odair
— summary: you’d been hired to help keep annie’s home clean and to keep her company. what you didn’t expect was to fall in love with her. and to find out that she was with finnick, and annie doesn’t want to let either of you go. but you’ve found your people, and you couldn’t be happier.
TRIBUTE!READER
— coming soon!
(in general, no ship just the reader in the arena, with katniss n peeta etc)
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lustsickforyou · 1 year
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EYES ON YOU ..
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pairing: james potter x female reader
summary: james potter— if anything, was a flirt until the very end. so when he sees a very pretty girl in the library he couldn’t help himself but to go speak with her.
a/n: this idea popped into my head and i just had to write it, james potter is the cutest boy of them all.
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JAMES POTTER was known for many things, but the one thing that surfed around the halls of the school was that he was a womanizer. constantly flirting with all the eligible girls around school, and most found it quite charming. he had this elegance about him when it came to talking with anyone. the way the words fell off tongue was mesmerizing, how he would playfully touch their arm just enough to grab their attention to the action but leaving them wanting more.
you however, felt much more opposite than the other girls around. perhaps that was something you and lily evans could relate to. you knew his tricks, the same moves he pulled on every girl. you watched it all before, and yet something bothered you that he never approached you. always left you watching from afar, wondering why he never tried at any attempt to get your attention. maybe that’s why you hated him and his flirting so much.
it was now your sixth year at hogwarts, classes were ever as busy and your work was piling up each day. it was hard not to fall behind, so often you found yourself in the library attempting to study. the sound of birds chirping outside the window, the sun shining through just as it reached the golden hour of the end of the day. you could hear book pages being flipped, small conversations softly spoken— and of course you could hear james potter enter the room.
he was quite popular, every single time he entered a room someone would say hello to him and strike up a conversation without fail. you attempted to mind your own business, flipping through the pages of your history of magic book. it was hard not to get bored with that class, you wondered how anyone would excel so easily.
james was on his way to meet up with his friends to study, when he walked passed you. everything seemed to go slowly for him in the instance of passing by. he looked over towards you as he made his way across the library. how your face was concentrated and your eyebrows permanently furrowed as you read the words in front of you. the way you glanced up at him, the sun hitting your face in that perfect honey lighting, but looked back towards your book without another thought.
james always saw these kinds of things like a challenge, could he get the girl who seemed so disinterested in him? and as he continued to walk forward and away from you, a thought crossed his mind. how had he never seen you before? he was going to continue forward but some switch flipped inside of him and he stopped in his tracks, turning on his heels with a knowing smirk on his face and heading right back in your direction.
you glanced up again when you heard him change paths, and immediately sighed, covering your face. you definitely did not have time for his shenanigans. not only were you busy trying to catch up in your class work, your hair was a mess and you felt a headache coming on from all the reading you had done.
“is this seat taken?” he asked suavely, and you mentally rolled your eyes. you looked up nervously, and tried to come up with an excuse. “well— i’m expecting somebody.” you landed on the answer rather quickly which made yourself quite proud.
james looked around the room, towards the entrance of the library with no sign of anyone coming. he may act stupid but he was quite intelligent. “right now?” he questioned and you stared at him with shock. “no— but any minute now.” you lied. “any minute?” he teased lightly and you wanted to grab your things and run out of there as quickly as possible. you decided to not respond, looking down at your book again and hoped he would walk away.
“what are you reading?” he asked. would he ever give up? “history of magic, while i’m waiting for him.” you added the last part so he would get the idea that his presence wasn’t wanted here. “well then— you probably won’t mind if i wait here with you.” he pulled out the chair to the left of the square table and sat down. you mentally cursed and leaned back into your own chair.
“are you new here?” he asked, which deep down stung because he hadn’t noticed you. probably not ever— and ever since you grew into your face this past summer and started to use light makeup to enhance your features you had started to get attention from boys. it was probably the only reason he noticed you, even though you had classes with him before.
“no, i’m not.” you shook your head, tucking your hair behind your ear and looked down at your book in attempt to forget the fact that you were sitting in the library with james potter, and how you felt slightly embarrassed because everyone around knew exactly what he was doing, therefor they noticed you. which meant a target was on your back from his little fan club of girls who thought they had a shot with the brunette boy.
“what’s your name?” he asked, and you gave in. finally setting your hands down on the table in front of you. “y/n y/l/n.” you replied simply and he had this look of shock on his face, repeating your name with a hint of surprise. “my goodness, i barely even recognized you.” he leaned back, taking you in.
“mm, so i’ve heard. from many people actually.” you stated matter of factly, because it was true. you returned to school looking more stunning than the year before that even your friends were shocked to see you. james cleared his throat, knowing he was already messing up his usual routine with every girl. for some reason with you it felt different. he had been taken by surprise, which set him off the rails completely.
“we had—” he thought for a moment trying to remember. “potions together.” he finished and you nodded slowly. “you were the awkward girl who sat in the back and rarely ever spoke.” he teased and you rolled your eyes at his comment. “that i was.” you sounded disinterested at this point. he was clawing at any attempt for you to swoon after him like everyone else did.
“i’m sorry i didn’t recognize you sooner.” he acknowledged the fact that he was acting like a complete asshole right now. “that’s alright.” you accepted his apology graciously, a smile crossing onto your features as you tried not to laugh at his poor attempt at trying to flirt with you. why had everyone talked big game with him when he acted like such a fool now in front of you?
it hadn’t even crossed your mind that he was nervous, that he was so enamored by your beauty that he was a loss for words. “so where is this mystery man of yours? i thought he was coming any minute now.” he spoke playfully and you smiled back. “he’s often late.” you continued to lie, because if you were being honest you didn’t want to seem like an idiot, you already felt like one.
“not a very good mystery man then, now is he?” he asked and you laughed lightly. “you have a beautiful laugh.” he complimented and you looked down again, feeling your face go hot at his comment. you wanted to slap yourself for ever feeling bashful over james’ words. not after you had seen him flirt with everyone under the sun, and secretly judging people for ever falling under his spell.
“thank you, james.” you spoke quietly. the two of you sat in silence for a moment, him staring at you with that knowing smirk on his face, and you looking down feeling his eyes on you. you decided it would be your turn to ask him questions.
“so— why did you choose to sit here with the girl waiting on somebody instead of with your friends.” you motioned over to the table across the room filled with his infamous group of friends who talked amongst themselves. they learned long ago that james did this kind of stuff, and chose not to pay too much attention to it. james shrugged, glancing at his friends and back towards you because he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of you.
“i saw a pretty girl, i couldn’t help myself.” he answered honestly and you narrowed your eyes with a small smile on his face. “what?” he asked and you shook your head with another laugh, so infectious that it made him laugh as well— hesitantly but he still did. “nothing, nothing.” you giggled, covering your mouth in hopes he wouldn’t notice how funny you found this. “tell me what you find so amusing.” he practically begged and you calmed yourself down from the laughing fit.
“i don’t know— i just thought you were all heart eyes for lily evans and she just so happens to be sitting right next to your friends”. you pointed out and he quickly looked over to notice the red head who was speaking with remus. “and it’s terribly predictable of you, you call every girl in this school pretty.” you added and he shook his head, looking back towards you instead of the evans girl.
“i’m not heart eyes for the evans girl.” he swallowed and you shrugged with an upside down frown knowingly. “i’m not! she doesn’t even like me anyways.” he tried to save himself, but you found the whole situation amusing. “whatever helps you sleep at night, potter.” you joked and he rolled his eyes. “you’re horrible.” he teased with a smile and shook his head.
“so i’m pretty and horrible? how can those two things exist?” you asked with a smirk. “oh it does, it’s sitting right in front of me now.” he chuckled. you held up your hands as if presenting yourself in the flesh and he was the one that was now amused. once the laughter died down james let out a relieving sigh. “you really are something y/n y/l/n.” he gushed and you looked away for a moment to gather yourself.
“surprised you remembered my name this time.” you cooed. “i don’t think i can forget now.” he replied, staring down at you. you didn’t respond, only looking up at him.
“go on a date with me.” he blurted out suddenly and you leaned back with a surprised look on your face. “so soon, potter?” you asked and he shrugged innocently. “sorry, but i don’t think i want to go on a date with the infamous womanizer of hogwarts.” you declined and he grabbed his chest, acting as if he had just been shot. no one ever declined his request for such things. only one other red headed girl who seemed to be so far in his mind now. “only proving yourself to be more horrible, darling.” he called you by a nickname that fell so easily off his lips. “thank you.” you accepted even though a compliment was never there.
“come on, the date could be perfect. we could have a picnic on the grass hills behind the school.” he almost begged at this point and you looked up as if you were thinking about it. “and how many girls have you taken on this said perfect date?” you questioned. “not a single one, just you.” he replied. he was effortlessly perfect in every way, and yet you still pushed him away.
“alright, how many times have you asked lily evans on that same date?” you tried now and he went quiet. you had him all figured out, one of the only girls who didn’t see him through those rose colored glasses he so easily placed onto them. james cleared his throat, adjusting in his seat. you saw right through him, but it didn’t scare him off.
“james! are you done bothering that poor girl? we have defense against the dark arts homework to catch up on!” remus called from across the room and james stood from his seat, grabbing his bag and throwing it around his shoulder. “coming, coming!” he yelled back annoyed. “i better get going, leave you to wait for this boy.” he jabbed and you giggled.
“let me know if you ever work it out.” you said and he looked down confused. “what?” he inquired. “you flirting with other girls, and about that date. seems nice if you weren’t the way you were.” you explained. “so you’re saying i have a chance?” he asked and you sucked in a deep breath. “perhaps.” you landed on the answer and he nodded before walking off towards his friends.
“what’s got you so interested in y/n?” sirius poked fun at his friend and james sat down ignoring him. “honestly james, i wish you would just leave the all those girls alone.” peter added and james looked at him disappointed as he grabbed the books from his bag. they all dropped it, opening up their books and pulling out parchment paper. and instead of like usual, james didn’t swoon over lily. he looked back every so often towards you, where you were reading your book intently. and the final time he looked back you were gone.
he had a crush, a huge one. and for days after the interaction the only thing on his mind was you.
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janearts · 8 months
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I couldn't help myself from referencing Highlander. There can be only one [wielder of the Netherstones]!
Proper answer (and some character analysis for Roisia) under the read-more.
Roisia was surprised by Gortash, but pleasantly so. In the first place, as far as Roisia is concerned, Ketheric and Orin recall their respective gods in their appearance: Ketheric is withered, a husk of a person, but indomitable, and Orin... well, Orin looks like a flayed corpse with meat-suit clothes, but close enough. Roisia would have expected Bane's Chosen to be more... physically domineering. Terrifying. Intractable. ...Loud? Instead, here's this charming handsome fellow who is really rather ordinary. If Roisia met him on the street, he'd just be another debonair noble lusting for power. (Join the feckin' queue!)
And neither does Gortash behave as Roisia would have expected Bane's Chosen to behave. She would have expected a Banite to be a tyrant, a Faerûnian-version of the Machiavellian prince, who instils a terror of himself and who rules through fear. Instead, Gortash gently curates among the populace not a fear of him, but a xenophobic fear of The Outsider (whether that outsider is a cult like the Absolute or a group of people like the Coast's refugees).
Roisia—by all accounts an oppositional force to his own—encounters a man who is genuinely, fully, confidently willing to partner with her to achieve a common goal and is willing to swear a divine oath to secure that partnership...
Poor man. What a fool.
You see, Roisia is something of a Machiavellian prince. She would despise to think of herself in that way were she to read Il Principe, but she has within herself some (but not all!) of the traits and qualities that are described within. She is frequently a mirror: where she meets evil, she wields evil with aplomb. ("You desire me to kiss your foot? I think not. You shall kiss mine.") She would very much prefer to offer mercy, but if her mercy is rejected—like when Ketheric imprisons Dame Aylin once again before yeeting himself into the primordial soup—then she will dole out cruelty in equal measure. Most importantly of all, Roisia is a liar and a deceiver, all while appearing compassionate, guileless, and true to her word. Roisia only really keeps her word when it suits her purposes. Were she otherwise, she would have found that Gortash would have been faithful to his word to the last. But as the Machiavellian prince, she betrays and slays him.
Actually, having written all that, Roisia is more of an embodiment of the Machiavellian prince than I originally thought: she is virtuous and good, sure, but she is also intimately familiar with baser behaviours (lying, cruelty, conspiracy, etc.) and wields those base behaviours like a tool when and where she feels it is needed and necessary.
Which is why I was absolutely thrilled when I had her do what was only natural to her and had her speak to Gortash post-mortem. Roisia is a character who believes herself to be godless: damned and/or abandoned by Kelemvor, Lord of the Dead and Judge of the Damned, for being a Necromancer. She had a sliver of hope that she would find favour with Myrkul, but Myrkul thought only of the Chosen stolen from him. She thought, perhaps, that she might find favour with Bhaal because, let's face it, she had slaughtered and bloodied so many in her long journey to Baldur's Gate, but the skull only wept blood and that was that. Bane, however, actually speaks to her, acknowledges her, validates her. She won his favour the moment she betrayed and slayed Gortash. She is in her very nature a stellar Banite. Incredible! And absolutely absurd. Thank you to Larian for programming that opportunity in. 😂
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astrumark · 2 years
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── SHE WAS LOVIN' ME, SHE WAS WANTIN' ME ★.
PAIRING: aemond targaryen x female reader.
SUMMARY: aemond is not accustomed to getting attention and you give him just that.
WARNINGS: one curse word, sexual implications, heavy make-out session, flirting.
WC: 2.9K
NOTES: i haven't written anything in two years so i'm very rusty, sorry. also english is not my native language.
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Aemond has always been prideful, although this characteristic was often hidden under the circumstances of his life. But he was aware, and enjoyed a bit too much, all of his privileges as a prince, even being arrogant about it. His pride was a bit shaken when he didn't claim a dragon in his early childhood, a dragon meant a lot not only for a Targaryen but especially a male Targaryen, a symbol of their manhood. He felt more unworthy than other men in his family. When he finally claimed Vhagar, he lost his eye, an essential part of his body, and yet again, his entitlement faltered. When it was rather obvious that Aegon would become king one day, and how unfit for the role he was, Aemond was faced with the second son's burden and jealousy. Aemond was prideful, however, he never felt whole.
He was resentful because he could've had so much more. He'd sometimes dream about having the largest dragon alive, both of his eyes, and an Iron Throne to claim for himself. But reality would strike him once again and he would bury all of his anger, frustration, and envy deep in his heart and present only his well-built facet to others. Aemond felt so at fault he turned into a perfectionist. He needed to be the perfect pupil, the perfect warrior, the perfect son, brother, and one day, husband and father. To be respected, and to be feared. But no matter how much he succeed in his duties, he was never satisfied. Aemond's pride was wounded and he craved validation, even if he didn't admit it.
So yes, Aemond absolutely loved your attention.
When you first arrived at the Red Keep, your father a new member of the small council, Aemond believed your constant stare was due to your fear and disgust towards him, just as the other ladies. However, as moons went by, Aemond noticed there was something slightly different in your eyes, curiosity, perhaps? He felt your gaze on him constantly and decided to ignore it. But it certainly made him unease, such sudden interest. You even attended his training on certain afternoons, and he knew you couldn't mean anything good, which irritated him as well.
You, on the contrary, were enchanted with the prince the second you laid eyes on him. While reading a romance book, you believed that a person couldn't knock another's air out of their lungs upon a mere sight, but that's what happened. The air around you became thick and a soft gasp escaped your lips. He was the most handsome man you have ever encountered. You tried to pick on things you didn't like about him, and you found none. His tall and slim body, the typical leather attire, soft-looking silver hair, mesmerizing violet eye, and a, in your opinion, charming eyepatch. His face, you could have never imagined it in your head, unusual characteristics one would never think could end up looking so good when paired together. He was sharp but pretty, unique. Reminding you of a sculpture, to be appreciated, but better avoid touching it to not deteriorate the work.
Once knowing you would move to the Red Keep, Aemond was undoubtedly the royal you were most keen to meet in person. The mighty rider of Vhagar, such a legendary dragon. When you heard the story about the night he claimed her, you were standing on tiptoes. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon, he supposedly said. Only a child, you admired the boy, and that admiration didn't go away as more gossip about the one-eyed would reach your ears throughout the years, how he'd become a highly educated man and one of the finest warriors in all of Westeros, how he was collected and intimidating. Your expectations were high already, and he managed to surpass them. Even when Aemond demonstrated little interest in you or your acquaintance, you could not help but drool over him. His looks, his attitude, his voice. So delightful.
It was Helaena's name day and Queen Alicent decided to throw a banquet in celebration. The great hall was loud due to conversations and the music, not many lords had been invited, to not overwhelm Princess Helaena, who preferred calmer ambiances, nonetheless, the castle was a lot more full than usual. You poured more wine to yourself, stomach already full, half engaged in the conversation with other ladies, half watching Aemond, further on the table, across his brother. Lost in your trance, you didn't connect the voices to names, but you listened to them.
"I must confess I find Prince Aegon dashingly handsome. Princess Helaena's a lucky woman."
Giggles.
"Indeed, a shame he lacks morals."
"He's truly attractive, the whores and servants that earn his attention have nothing to complain about."
"Do you think if Prince Aemond still had his other eye, he could compare?"
"Not at all, he's simply strange looking."
You scoffed. "He's very handsome. Aegon is the one who could never compare to him, even lacking an eye."
One of the ladies smirked. "You are the only one who favors Aemond, I wonder why?"
"Perhaps I just have a better taste."
There was a sound of disapproval among the inner circle you found yourself in, and you sighed, drinking more of your wine.
"There's just something about him, a fire, an unpredictability. He looks calm, yet he seems as if he could explode at any moment, doesn't he?" You pondered, looking at him again. "Seven, he rides the largest dragon alive, is that not alluring enough?"
"Careful what you say out loud, dear Y/N, if the Septa finds out where your thoughts are wandering, she will not be pleased." Lady Vivien teased and the others burst out laughing. You rolled your eyes.
Aemond was bored out of his mind, but he forced himself to stay for his sister. He watched the feast impassive, speaking only when needed and fidgeting with his cup of wine. When Helaena left to gather with a group of young ladies, where you stood, and his mom seemed too engrossed in conversation with her friends, the young prince contemplated leaving, certain his presence was no longer a necessity. That was when Aegon opened his mouth.
"Do you think it makes her look stupid? Because I do," He drank from his cup. "But stupidly sensual."
"What do you speak of?" Aemond's tone was both tedious and exasperated.
"Lady Y/N, obviously, longingly staring at you," Aegon scoffed. "If she looked at me with those eyes, I tell you, brother, there wouldn't be much left of her afterward. Basically begging you to fuck her senseless."
Aemond would never say it out loud, but his heart skipped a beat at his brother's words. A thought that never once crossed his mind, because, surely, that couldn't be possible, not someone like you. But it made sense, yes. What he could never quite read in your eyes... was it lust? Pride filled his chest with the idea, the knowledge that you may desire him.
For the first time, when he felt your eyes on him, he locked his one with yours, watching you intently, now with the same interested gaze you held, confidently analyzing your face and reaction. When your lips turned into a shy yet flirtatious smile, only to shamefully avert your eyes right after, playing with your hair and pretending to focus on the conversation around you, he knew it. Your actions were not uncommon to him, he had seen them many times but directed at Aegon, and even his younger brother, Daeron, but never him. Gods, was it pleasant. He couldn't fight the smirk off his face as he sipped on his wine, an ego boost much needed.
You have noticed the shift in Aemond's behavior towards you after that night, it was impossible not to. How he started to return your stares and smirks and acknowledge your presence with words rather than a nod, sometimes even engaging in small conversations, asking about you and your interests. Each interaction lets you with a foolish smile and a racing heart.
Managing to convince Helaena to ditch the Septa's lessons for one afternoon, you found yourself in the Dragonpit since the princess decided she desired to fly. Although there hadn't much to do whilst you waited for her return, you didn't mind in the slightest. The structure, so big and magnificent, had always amazed you, the dragon's power distinguishable in the air. And for that, you were more than thrilled to visit Rhaenys's Hill every time someone suggested it. After chatting a bit with Helaena's sworn knight, you started wandering around, lost in thought.
Your body trembled upon hearing the most loud and rasping squeak, followed by harsh flaps of wings, and you lifted your head up. You already knew who it was, no other dragon compares to her. And if carefully inspected, one could easily understand each dragon's personality and mannerisms. You rushed outside, although still hiding behind one of the huge pillars at the entrance of the Dragonpit.
Vhagar landed on the ground with a loud thud, and it was as if the sand was shaking beneath your feet. You gawked at the creature. You had already seen her, but never this close. Although stunning, Vhagar also seemed unnatural, her colossal form not settling right in the ambiance. No living or dead being should be this big. You gulped nervously, she was otherworldly, for sure.
You listened to Aemond talking with a few dragonkeepers in High Valyrian, you had studied the language for a while, but you were not fluent, especially when spoken so fast. With difficulty, you managed to understand that the prince had asked for food. Aemond petted Vhagar whilst a few workers scattered away, surprisingly, they came back not much long after, guiding two living cows and a sheep.
You were fascinated and horrified as you watched Vhagar burn one of the cows, feasting in its carbonized meat and bones. You tore your gaze from what was left of the poor animal, instead focusing on Vhagar's appearance, memorizing it, her bronze scales and big green eyes, ridiculously sharp and deadly teeth, and visible scars of ancient battles all over her body. You couldn't help but recall all of the tales, so entertained by the beast, you didn't even notice the presence of the young prince behind you.
"I must admit my utter surprise, Lady Y/N. I was not expecting such a lovely presence in here." The voice startled you and a gasp escaped your lips as your body turned around.
"Prince Aemond," You said curtsying slightly, your head also lowered in embarrassment with the flattery, and you tried to fight the satisfied smile that threatened to break in the corner of your lips. "It seems your sister also found it fit to fly this afternoon. I came as a companion."
Aemond hummed, making butterflies arise in your stomach. "The weather is nice."
"Indeed." Your body turned to Vhagar again as the she-dragon now incinerated the sheep, a burning smell invading your nostrils once more.
"You like her." It was a statement, not a question.
"She is legendary, my Prince."
"That she is."
"Isn't it hard to believe she is one of the dragons that conquered Westeros all those years ago? And still stands before us? A living piece of history itself," You rambled, watching how they brought the other cow forward. "Ancient, powerful, magic. A fragment of the Old Valyria."
Aemond stood even taller, as if it was possible, filled with pride of his dragon, a smirk plastered on his face.
"She has seen so much, more than half of the people she has known is dead for quite some time now," You continued. "Have you heard about how the wild dragon Cannibal might be even older than Vhagar? It is absurd. Amazing creatures." Your gaze returned to Aemond.
He was already looking at you, listening to your words attentively, amusement clear behind his eye.
"Well, seeing as you admire her that much, I might take you for a ride," Aemond said. "Then, you will be able to see her full glory."
You chuckled wryly, looking back at Vhagar very briefly, before laying your full attention on the prince. "I suppose there are more shameful ways of dying than falling off a dragon." You jested.
"I would not let you fall," He paused, eye surveying your body up and down. "I'd hold onto you tight." You didn't miss the flirtatious tone.
You smirked, heart pounding loudly and feeling all hot. You stared at him, absolutely entranced by his handsome face, before entering his game.
"I don't know what would be more pleasant," You took a step closer to him, whispering in seduction. "Riding the mightiest dragon alive or being pressed against you."
Your stomach tingled as Aemond's eye darkened with lust. It was something you have noticed upon admiring him for so long, that, although his body and face remained often stoic, his eye didn't really lack emotion, and through it, you should be able to read his mood.
"It would pain me not to clear your doubts, pet." His hand brushed a strand of your hair and tucked it behind your ear, making the distance between you even smaller, and your breath hitched.
"We wouldn't want that." You whispered, stepping back, only to feel the coolness of the pillar, Aemond followed you like a predator, your chests pressed.
"No, we wouldn't." His long index finger caressed your jaw, the feather-like touch making you flutter your eyes shut as the hair on the nape of your neck stirred up. "So beautiful." He whispered, now cupping your cheeks in both hands and bringing your face closer to his.
You knew you should pull away, that you were in a public space, that although hidden behind the pillar, and not seen from the front, anyone that decided to enter or leave the building, could catch you in the most inappropriate way possible with the prince. You'd be forever ruined in court and your chances of a good marriage would disappear, your parents would rightfully so doom you, because how does one even explain this situation? But you couldn't.
All you could possibly think about was Aemond, the warmth of his body, and how good it felt, his breath mingling with yours, the texture of the leather beneath your fingers as you held his waist, his scent, of dragon, but something else as well, more citric and fresh you could only guess as his bathing oils and the absolute desire in his eye. No, you couldn't pull away and you wouldn't. You would risk everything to have the littlest taste of him. Aemond smirked, nose brushing yours, and then, he kissed you.
Aemond kissed you, and you could swear you floated, all of your other senses went numb, and you could only feel his warm and soft lips on yours. You sighed in contentment, and you moved your lips against his tentatively, a hot and pleasant sensation taking over your lower belly. You gladly let him deepen the kiss, and not even if you tried you could have prevented your soft moan from slipping out of you. You met him at his pace, not slow or fast, just right, the two of you getting to know and exploring the other. Growing confident, one of your hands moved to his strong jaw, stroking it gently as you had only dreamed of, Aemond groaned in pleasure, tightening his grip on you. And you continued to kiss him, eager and tenderly, somewhere in your mind, fearing that you were showing him how much you appreciated him, how much you wished for this, longed for this, longed for him.
Aemond noticed, of course he did, and it made him feel so good. You needed him, and Aemond enjoyed being needed. His hands slided down your body, caressing and squeezing your ass as he swallowed down your moan with his lips fervently devouring your own, his hands traveled through your hips and waist, going to the swell of your breasts and gripping on it, your surprised whimper making his cock throb. Aemond's lips moved to your jaw and exposed neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses and slight biting. You pulled at his hair, bringing his face to yours again, and he could only stare at you.
Because there, panting and with swollen lips, after letting him kiss and palm you in such a dangerous place, looking at him with a look that Aemond could only identify as pure adoration, he knew he'd got you in the palm of his hands, at his complete mercy, a sheep in a dragon's claw, and that you were his. He smiled wickedly, mine, he thought, heart swelling in pride. He locked your lips with his again, but in a peck. You were blissful.
"Come," He took your hand, subtly leading you inside, towards one of the many uninhabited tunnels.
And in the dark of the cave, away from any possible prying eyes, you kissed again, for several minutes or even more, heatedly and curiously, hands excited to feel as much of the other's body as possible. You bit, sucked, and licked one another. And even if just for that brief moment, Aemond felt whole. Nothing was pledging his mind as you deluged him with so much affection he could've drowned in it, all he cared about was the feeling of your delicate lips on his, your soft skin, your addicting taste and smell, and your loveliest moans that sounded like music to his ears. Aemond had bewitched you long ago, but unknowingly to the prince, you had just bewitched him as well. You needed him, and he'd willingly oblige to your wishes.
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