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writingjourney · 1 year

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a message from the bulletin board | cardinal copia x gn!reader

summary: the ministry’s bulletin board, ordinarily used for missing items or party announcements, contains a particularly interesting request this week – a lonely hearts ad.

content: 9k words, gn!reader, slightly suggestive at times, first date/first kiss shenanigans, sad lonely awkward cardinal fluff, you know the drill

Masterlist – Ao3 link

You ignore the knot of people in front of the bulletin board.

As much as the whispers and giggles garner your attention, someone else attracts it even more. Cardinal Copia, red cassock, red biretta, arms filled with two boxes worth of files and papers, is trying to push the door to his office open with his hip under a swell of Italian curses. Certainly, his hip swing is impressive on most days, especially on stage, but today it seems more like a helpless, uncoordinated bumping that the door is fighting with every ounce of its wooden strength.

Evidently, he’s struggling.

“Good morning, Cardinal, do you need a hand?”

His eyebrows shoot up when he hears your voice and he stops dead in his tracks, slowly turning his head until he catches you standing right behind him. Despite your announcement, he visibly startles, nearly dropping the boxes in his arms.

“Oh, eh… yes, if you could open the door for me, Sibling?”

“Of course.”

With your hand on the knob, you watch as he hurries inside of his office, wheezing under the weight and dropping the boxes onto his desk with a dull thud that echoes loudly in his mostly bare working space. Apart from books upon books strewn across and around his desk as well as an old weathered couch, there hasn’t been any love put into decorating the space. You wait patiently for him to turn back around to you, a hint of red dusting his cheeks when he finally does.

“Thank you,” he squeezes out, trying very hard to swallow his heavy exhales. “I carried them here all the way from the archives. Long way, you know, even for my…” He holds up his arm, flexing it exaggeratedly. “My strong, powerful muscles.”

You giggle and he perks up in delight, eyes wide and shiny. “No problem, Cardinal, I can imagine they’re very heavy.”

You smile at him and he smiles back, so sweetly, and you’re momentarily at an equal loss for words. A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead, down the prominent bridge of his nose. He brushes it away with a leather-gloved hand and you can’t help but stare as he wipes it clean on the heavy fabric of his vestments, shaking out his fingers once he’s done. You can’t look away as they flex and release, flex and release. They’re surprisingly long and so… nimble.

Copia’s violent cough startles you awake and you’re not sure if it’s his own nerves that make him clear his throat, if his overexerted lungs are protesting or if he caught you staring. Either way, you feel your own cheeks getting hot now, the moment of hesitant silence slowly transitioning into a gooey sort of awkwardness.

“So, ugh… I better get back to my own duties,” you say. “Lots to do, spring cleaning and all that.”

He nods. “Yes, yes, you are busy, of course. Such a busy little bee. Bzz bzz. Hehe.”

You awkwardly giggle back, trying hard to think of a clever joke. Maybe something that has to do with stinging? But before you can settle on one, the time for a witty come-back has stretched thin and so you just awkwardly wave at him, mutter a “see you later” and close the door.

With your back pressed to the wood, you let out a deep exhale, the butterflies – or bees – in your stomach making it very hard to breathe at a normal pace. Once you’ve recollected your wits, you notice that the hallway is still as busy as before, maybe even busier.

Like lions gathering around an animal carcass after days of starvation, what feels like half the abbey has been flocking to the big rectangular corkboard. You cannot possibly imagine what would warrant such intense interest. The most exciting messages on any given day are unusual sex requests, the invitation to a weirdly themed party or a call for applications to a particularly intricate sex ritual to honour the Dark One.

You push through the crowd to check what’s causing the repeated giggling and excited whispers amongst your peers when you spot a pristine piece of paper on the board. It’s thick, stark-white, shaped like a heart at the top and with pieces to rip off at the bottom that contain a phone number. You squint, move in even closer until you can make out the text – hand-written and in cursive.

I (m, 50) am looking for a partner to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t have any preferences but it would be coolio if we had similar interests, so we can have some fun together.

I like: watching movies, playing video games, going on walks, rigatoni, juice, small animals

I don’t like: coconut flavour, being barefoot, swimming, touching wet dishes, bullies, dentist appointments

If you think we are a good match I would like to take you on a romantic date. Please call or text me. Bye bye!

You smile at the note but quickly find back down to earth when someone rams their elbow into your side. No one has taken one of the numbers yet, so you assume the excitement is more about the fact that there is a lonely hearts ad on the bulletin board at all than any actual interest in the person. You have to admit, it is a bit odd. Most younger clergy members just use dating apps these days or social media. But the lonely heart in question is fifty, so they may not be familiar with modern methods, and it’s oddly endearing that anyone would go through the trouble of creating such an ad. At the same time, it breaks your heart that someone in the abbey is so lonely that they risk the ridicule of half of the clergy members just to have a chance at finding love.

“Well, there are a bunch of people who it could be,” you overhear someone say. “Maybe one of the older Brothers, a bunch of them are single. Could also be that new bishop who just arrived, I heard he’s a cinephile and walks around the gardens quite often.”

You ignore the whispers of speculation, making your way back through the crowd to return to your duties. It’s almost dinner time by now and you need to get two more loads of laundry done before then. But even as you sort through piles of habits, cassocks and veils… you can’t stop thinking about the ad. You sincerely hope the person receives a few serious and not just prank calls. The note did sound endearing and you definitely see similarities. At the same time you’re far too busy nursing your hopeless crush on the Cardinal to actually entertain the thought of dating someone else.

You decide to check on the ad again tomorrow, see if anyone took a number, and if not, you could at least save it to your phone… just in case.

✦ ✧ ✦

Two birds land on his window sill, rubbing their beaks together in a kiss before happily chirping at each other. They’re in love, literal love birds, building a nest on the little protrusion in the wall right below his window. He’s been watching them occasionally, unreasonably envious, as they bring in twig after twig, ready to start their family. From the same window, Copia can make out the spring-filled gardens with their colourful patches of pink and red tulips, bumblebees hurrying from blossom to blossom, drunk on pollen and greedy for more. He can overlook the bright green meadow leading down to the pond, speckled with lush, budding trees. At this time of the day, after everyone finished their daily duties, the grass has almost completely disappeared under a plethora of picnic blankets.

Spring fever, he assumes, has to be the reason why everyone seems to be in love. Couples dozing in each other’s arms in the shade of the trees, feeding their lovers berries or grapes, taking a stroll down to the pond with their joined hands dangling between them, kissing without pause in the archways of the cool stone walkways leading outside. Just now he spots two Sisters rubbing sunscreen on each other’s bare shoulders, one of them kissing the other's head before they fall back onto their blanket, giggling happily at each other.

He feels so incredibly lonely.

This has been going on for weeks now and he’s tired of feeling so shamefully worthless of affection. Instead of the arms of his lover, he sinks into his tattered old desk chair and drowns his sorrows in boring paperwork. Not that that’s going well, but for lack of alternatives, he’d rather do budget calculations than sit in his quarters all alone. Every evening, the spring breeze carries the sound of happy laughter through his windows, usually while he’s playing video games all by himself, but he can’t keep them closed if he doesn’t want to sweat to death. Besides… that same gentle breeze is the only thing caressing his skin as he tries to fall asleep at night and if he closes his eyes, the wind almost feels like fingertips ghosting over his arms.

As he leaves his office that night, he receives another heavy but sadly much expected blow. Almost a week now and still no one has taken one of the numbers from his lonely hearts ad. Of course it doesn’t mean no one saved it to his phone, he tells himself, people are shy or they just don’t want to date an anonymous person. It has nothing to do with him, they don’t even know it’s him. And yet… if his dating streak continues so poorly, he’s not sure if he can stay sane for much longer. There are only so many tears you can cry in bed at night before it starts to take a toll on you.

His heart is especially heavy as he makes his way to his lonely quarters. One more day and then he’s taking it down, he decides. No use in waiting any longer now that surely everyone in the abbey has seen his request and the last thing he wants are pity calls.

✦ ✧ ✦

“So, are you going to call the Cardinal?”

You look up from your breakfast plate. Your friend Lily is sitting opposite of you, chewing on a blueberry muffin, and you narrow your eyes at her. “The Cardinal?”

“The number in the lonely hearts ad,” she says. “It’s still there, I checked earlier.”

“It’s the Cardinal?”

She nods, popping another piece of muffin into her mouth. “Duh.”

You feel your cheeks heating up and set your fork down to hide the sudden tremor in your fingers. “Which Cardinal?”

She gives a soft groan of annoyance. “Babe, there is only one of the Cardinals who would ever hang up such a goofy thing. Now, will you call him?”

Copia. She knows about your… slight infatuation with him. And despite being kind and not teasing you too much, it was just a matter of time until the occasion popped up. If he is looking for a serious partner… maybe it’s too late for you soon. The ad has been up for days and while you’ve been toying with the idea of calling, you just haven’t found the courage yet.

You continue eating, trying to act casual, but it takes you three attempts to pick up a stray piece of cucumber from your plate. “How do you even know it’s his number?”

Lily takes a deep breath, setting the muffin down to ready herself. “Sooo, Michael wanted to call the number to check who it is, right? Well, turns out his girlfriend already knew it’s the Cardinal’s number and his girlfriend is Sister Jill who knows it from Sister Mary who is roommates with Sibling Jessie who works with the treasury and their colleague Brother Paul works as the Cardinal’s assistant two times a week and that’s how he has the Cardinal’s number for emergencies.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh. Now, will you?”

Eyes on your empty plate, you bite your lip until you can taste blood. It’s Copia’s number, the number of your crush of about six months now, and he’s looking for a partner, unspecified. That’s… big news, intimidating news, news that calls to an action you’re not sure you’re prepared for.

Glancing at Lily, you catch her smirking at you and promptly give her a scowl. “I don’t know. What if he already got better options?”

She cocks her head to the side. “Better than you? I doubt it.”

“You’re biased because you’re my friend.”

A shrug. “You should try. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“He could be disappointed.”

“He’s more disappointed if no one calls,” she counters.

“Yeah but–”

You stop yourself when you see Nora, Lily’s girlfriend, approaching the table. Her arms wrap around Lily from behind as she presses a loud, lingering kiss to her cheek, both of them giggling.

“You scared me,” Lily says, turning around for a proper kiss.

“Sorry, love, but I can’t leave breakfast without my sweet treat.”

You avert your gaze, involuntarily feeling like an intruder. They’ve been together for a few weeks now, sickeningly adorable. Lily had been pining after Nora for months, a little bit like you with the Cardinal, only that she eventually found the courage to ask her out. To see her bravery being rewarded like that makes you incredibly happy for both of them. But at the same time… you have rarely ever felt your loneliness so sharply, the heaviness of your unreciprocated crush such a weight on your shoulders.

You know that if you want this to be you and the Cardinal, then there’s only one real answer to her question: You have to reach out to him.

✦ ✧ ✦

He’s ready to toss this day into the trash bin already and he only just got up.

Last night, after tossing and turning for hours, Copia fell asleep only to promptly land in a hysterically embarrassing dream that made him jolt up whimpering like a kicked dog and hiding his face in the pillow. Bringing himself close to suffocation, he finally realised that he had not actually stumbled right in front of you, spilling juice all over his robes, scrambling to get up only to slip in the puddle by his feet, falling onto his butt with a high-pitched cry. You had been standing there motionless, watching the spectacle unfold until you turned around to leave.

This is the reaction he would expect, should he ever actually find the courage to ask you out. However, this is highly doubtful, because upon walking to his office half an hour later, he catches you with a group of friends. He often sees you with them – attractive young Siblings, evident chemistry between all of you, and every week he suspects a different one to be in love with you. He recognizes the two Sisters he saw from his window earlier this week. One of them presses a loving kiss to the other’s cheek and he wishes he could just walk up to you and do the same.

His heart hurts. No matter how much kindness you extend to him, you’re a beautiful young soul who could never be romantically interested in an aging loner. Copia is not disliked per se, he gets along with pretty much everyone, but he struggles to build meaningful connections. Between working his butt off to satisfy the clergy and spending time on his mostly solitary hobbies, it’s hard to meet people. He had to actively put himself out there but neither online dating nor any of the singles’ events Terzo sent him on brought any results – only what the young Siblings call getting “ghosted” or “benched”.

His ad is his last chance. And even that failed miserably.

As he ponders his options, your eyes suddenly meet his and he swears you’re smiling. Then you lift your hand in a cautious wave. For a second, he’s too scared to wave back because there are people around him, all of which could be your target. Your hand sinks after a moment as your smile slowly straightens and he suddenly knows that you do mean him. He lifts his hand far too excitedly in a reciprocative wave. Your smile returns, a shy one, but before he can even think about possibly approaching you, his knees suddenly give out.

No, they don’t give out, someone rams a trolly filled with supplies for Black Mass into him. Some of the tall candles roll off the top and clatter to the floor, breaking in half just like his dignity.

“Oops, sorry, Cardinal,” the Sibling says, scrambling to help him up. “It’s so hard to steer this thing.”

“It’s fine,” he chokes out, the pain in his knees anything but fine. “It happens.”

“I’m truly so sorry.”

He smiles, a hand on their shoulder now that he’s on his feet again. “It is okay, eh? No worries.”

When his eyes try to find you again, you’re not there anymore and he can’t decide if he’s relieved or sad. He prays to Satan that you didn’t see him fall but there is no way you missed it. His dream, if slightly watered-down, did come true after all and perhaps now you won’t want to–

“Cardinal, are you alright?”

Copia, still dizzy and skittish, spins around so hard he nearly stumbles again. He smooths out his now crumpled cassock, the dust he collected on the floor even more visible on today’s black vestments. In an attempt to retain his dignity, he straightens his spine and looks right into your beautiful eyes. You have a tendency to startle him like that and he wishes he could be more smooth about these encounters.

“Yes, yes, Sibling, thank you. It was… it was nothing, just a little stumble, eh?”

“Are you sure?” You inspect him from head to toe, your brow creased in concern. “It looked painful. Your knees…”

“Oh, my knees are fine!” he lies. “I kneel all the time, Sibling. You know this.” Your eyes widen and he continues to stammer. “I mean in prayer. I pray a lot. On my knees. I am a Cardinal, yes? It’s my job.”

You nod heavily. “Yes, of course.”

“So, ugh… I better just fuck off.” He presses his lips together to keep more silly words from coming out. “I mean I’ll go back to work. ”

As he tries to leave, your hand shoots up, squeezing the muscles in his forearm. He’s not as much startled as enthralled by your touch, so unexpected that he has no time to feel insecure but so welcome that it almost feels natural to have your fingers on his arm. He swears there is a hint of nervousness in your eyes now and despite knowing it’s silly, his heart wants to interpret it as bashfulness.

“Cardinal, please. I… ugh…”

You look beautiful from up close. Even if you weren’t stuttering he’d have a hard time listening to your words. It seems like you stopped breathing, your cheeks now a sweet shade of rosy, and you open your mouth to speak but no words come out. Eventually, you shake your head and run your fingers over the fabric of his sleeve. He thinks he’s about to pass out, his nerves rising until he can feel his heartbeat all the way up to his neck. Your hand is so gentle, so… affectionate.

“I’m sorry, Cardinal. I don’t mean to keep you. I was just thinking that I really like the black cassock. It suits you.”

A compliment. His mind is racing. This is not what you really wanted to say, he can tell, but he grins anyway. You like his cassock? Well, you should wait until you see him in a suit. Maybe on a date. He should ask, he realises. This is the moment he’s been waiting for for months now. But as he continues to stare at you his tongue becomes too heavy to form the words, and then your hand is suddenly gone and takes his courage right with it.

“Thank you, Sibling,” he says instead. “I also really like your ugh… your outfit.”

Only when the words leave his mouth does he realise it’s the same everyday habit you’re wearing all the time. Somehow, the silly compliment still manages to conjure a smile onto your face and so he stops berating himself because he made you smile. The sight stuns him, butterflies erupting in his already nervous stomach.

“I’ll see you later, Cardinal,” you say then, your eyes leaving his to glance down the hallway where your friends are waiting, beckoning for you to hurry.

Copia nods and he looks down at your hand in silent fascination, staring at your fingers that are dangling by your thigh without any use as if he could magically make them touch his arm again. “Yes, yes. See you,” he mumbles. “Bye bye.”

When he looks back up, you’re already hurrying off. Copia stays frozen, his gaze trailing after you as though his eyes are glued to your form. Even when you’re out of sight it takes him a while to start moving, to start breathing again.

Around him, the hallway slowly empties as everyone starts to tend to their respective duties. Copia can’t help but feel the nagging disappointment about not asking you out. A chance like this won’t suddenly appear again and even if you refused him it would still be less humiliating than the untouched ad at the bulletin board. He should take it off right now, he figures.

Only when he enters the hallway leading to his office, something looks off about the postings. He notices the change from the corner of his eye at first as he walks past the large corkboard. More party flyers have appeared, someone took down the “diamond butt plug set missing” request that had been hanging there since an orgy in the Siblings’ wing went wrong last month. Instead, Copia notices a large poster promoting condom usage that partly covers the request underneath. Which is how he recognises it.

His ad.

And one of the numbers is missing.

Copia nearly lets out a loud squeal as realisation dawns on him like the gentle spring sun rising over the hills every morning, bringing warmth and happiness after a cold, dark night. It seems like Cupid finally answered his prayers, like Aphrodite found sweet mercy for him.

Someone took his number. Someone wants to reach out to him.

For the rest of the day, he feels like he swallowed a swarm of bees, staring at his phone like it’s going to light up any second. Which it could. He could receive the message or call that changes his life any second now. Any second. Any… any second.

Nothing happens. Not in the next hour, not in the next two hours. All day, in fact, his phone stays quiet. His initial happiness deflates like a balloon. As he heads towards his quarters that evening, he observes how everyone piles into the dining hall, their happy laughter and cheerful spirits spoiling his usually solid appetite. He hates the sour feeling of envy in his stomach but he can’t help but suspect that everyone conspired against him.

Copia decides to skip dinner in order to cry into a big bowl of gelato. His nightmare might not have come true but his brain tortures him with pictures of your smiling face instead, with the phantom feeling of your warm hand lingering on his arm, and he can’t help but feel crushed anyway. He’d sell his soul to come home to you, to eat with you, sit with you, watch silly movies with you, fall asleep with you in his arms and wake up with your smile as the first thing he gets to see every day. It becomes increasingly clear to him that every day he misses out on being with you is a day tragically lost.

If only he was brave enough to change that.

✦ ✧ ✦

You’ve been pacing your bedroom for the better part of the evening now, back and forth and back and forth to the point where you’re seriously concerned about wearing down your carpet. The day passed uneventfully apart from your encounter with Copia in the hallway where you made a complete fool of yourself. You would have loved to skip all of the unnecessary fuss of texting back and forth but you barely spoke more than two words to him before you chickened out. Surely, if his interest in you was romantic, he could just ask you out instead of advertising himself on a public corkboard?

In any case, you’ve been typing out messages for over an hour now, deleting every single one of them only to throw your phone onto the bed multiple times before picking it back up to risk another attempt.

The reason you haven’t given up yet is that Lily knows you have his number now. Last night, when you thought everyone was asleep, you snuck out of your dorm feeling like James Bond with your torch and black clothing, tiptoeing down the empty corridors of the abbey. You didn’t want anyone spreading any premature rumors but a part of you was hesitant to take one of the numbers at all. Even if you called him, it wasn’t certain that he’d want to go on a date with you.

Still, you ripped off one of the thumb-sized pieces of paper and headed back – only to promptly run into Lily as she snuck out to meet Nora. You’re never going to forget her self-satisfied grin as she spotted you with the crumpled number between your fingers.

Begging your creative juices to start flowing, you stare at the empty message box. Perhaps you should be funny. You wonder if he knows the Piña Colada song. It is about a lonely hearts ad after all and he’s a musician. You type and type, delete and retype until you end on a rough draft to show Lily when she gets home. But no, upon rethinking, the joke is too silly even for you and there’s probably a better way to phrase this–

“Hey, have you called him yet?”

You jump, your heart rate doubling in shock. Lily appears in the open doorway and her voice startles you so fiercely that you clutch your phone to your chest. To your utter horror, the swishing sound of a sent message reaches your ear as your palm connects with the touchscreen, and when you glance down, the bubble with your typed out message sits at the top of your chat history.

“Oh no,” you whisper.

“What?”

“I sent my stupid silly joke message to him.”

Lily picks your phone from your hands, reading the solitary message from the display. “Well, at least now you’ll know if he shares your weird sense of humour?”

You grasp her shoulder and release a deep, throaty groan. Her words don’t calm you in the slightest, if anything, they only make it worse.

✦ ✧ ✦

Driving Miss Daisy can’t distract him anymore.

Every two minutes Copia reaches for his phone to check for any missed texts or calls only to have the gapingly empty home screen staring back at him. He never figured out how to change the pre-set wallpaper. Perhaps he could try again when he has a cute couple picture of him and his future partner. The thought makes him smile. It’s one of many little things he would change – if they only called.

Despite putting it on vibrate, he doesn’t trust the device to inform him of any news. He even carried it to the toilet twice already, just in case something happens while he’s gone. His ice cream doesn’t satisfy him tonight, everything feels bland and devoid of flavour, but he refills his bowl anyway. One big spoon and a bit of spray cream… and as he walks back over to his bed, he realises that he should definitely check his phone again because this took way longer than two minutes.

Right as he pulls the device out his pocket, it vibrates violently in his hand. For a moment he is so shocked to see a message pop up that he throws it away. It lands on his bed, bouncing a few times, display still lit up with one new notification glaring at him from the centre of his screen.

He takes a deep breath. This is real. He got a message.

No, he can’t look at it, he’s going to lose his nerves. A few more deep inhales and slow exhales, then he can’t fight the suspension any longer.

Hey, stranger :) You don’t like coconut, so you probably don’t like Piña Coladas, but maybe I’m still the love that you look for? I would love to go on a date with you, if you are still looking for one.

It takes him a second, then another one. The ice cream melts in his bowl as it sits forgotten on the floor next to his bed. Suddenly it clicks and he chuckles, in relief as well as amusement, thinking that he knows that song, that he gets the reference. That means this person is funny. They made a joke. He smiles to himself. A funny person wants to go on a date with him.

He types back, deleting, typing again. After five minutes, he comes up with a reply.

Hello, stranger! 👋🏼 I do not like Piña Coladas 🍹 but I have many better things to offer if you want to go on a picnic 🧺 with me tomorrow? I will bring food 🥪 and drinks 🧃 of course. Hopefully we do not get caught in the rain 💦😀

He thinks about how he could sign the message but then his nerves start to kick in. If he tells the person who he is, they may reconsider their choice to go out with him and that’s the last thing he wants. Even if the date doesn’t go well, he wants to try his best, so he shoots another message after the first:

Oh. It will be a blind date, if that is okay with you?

The next minute is the longest of his life. An eternity passes. He thinks he might have stopped breathing with how tight his chest feels. That is, until his phone lights up and shows the same number again, wringing a deep sigh of relief from him.

That’s fine with me. Where do we meet?

The squeal he lets out vibrates in his chest and bounces off the walls.

He’s got a date. Finally.

✦ ✧ ✦

Copia hears his bad conscience somewhere in the back of his mind whispering that blocking the best spot in the gardens all day is selfish. Perhaps it is true, perhaps he feels a little selfish today. And yes, besides feeling selfish he also feels a little guilty. Is it fair to go on a date when he has such a horrible crush on someone else? No. No, it’s not fair. But he can’t let another chance at love run through his fingers like sand on the beach. He simply has to grasp this opportunity.

His red-checked blanket lays untouched underneath the tall chestnut tree, its big, hand-shaped leaves rustling in the soft breeze as he approaches. The head of a rat is stitched into all four corners of the fabric – a gift from Sister for his latest birthday – and it’s been sitting here since nine o’clock when he took the liberty of… reserving… the spot. He picked the north-side of the tree so that the shade falls exactly where he’s going to be sitting with his date in approximately fifteen minutes. If they prefer the sun, he can just pull the blanket over a little, but he’d never forgive himself if they got sunburn because of him.

Copia took the day off, his first day off all year in fact, risking his next employee of the month award to spend all morning in town, running errands. With the end of May and strawberry season starting, he visited every grocery store within walking distance to find the ripest, juiciest ones they offered. He was lucky enough to obtain a small basket filled with the most delicious-looking red fruits and some additional fresh ingredients for his sandwiches. While he was quick-witted enough to ask about his date’s allergies yesterday, he completely forgot to ask them about their favorite snacks and so he’s decided to just bring anything he could think of that wouldn’t melt in the sun.

The basket he packed feels heavy in his hand for that exact reason and when he sets it down on the blanket, he can feel the strain in his arm. The past hour was spent obsessing over his outfit until he decided to just go for the white suit combo. Yes, white fabric near grass and juicy red fruits is not the most brilliant idea, but he wants to look his best and that means going the extra mile, even if he has to wear the tiny, itchy underwear underneath.

His heartbeat is going a mile a minute now. He can’t unpack yet, he doesn’t want the food to be out for too long, and so he sits and waits, his hands sweaty under his black and white leather gloves. The fact that the gardens around him slowly become crowded as the afternoon rolls around does nothing for his nerves. He can feel the curious glances, can hear the hushed whispers, and as the hour nears, he starts sweating even more despite the shade. If the unanswered ad had been embarrassing, being stood up so publicly would be even worse.

And then the most horrifying thing ever happens.

Copia sees you walking along the path, wearing a weather-appropriate, slightly dressed-up outfit that makes his eyes involuntarily roam your whole form. But he can’t fully focus on your loveliness. At first, he’s panicking that you’re meeting your friends somewhere close by where you could see him with his date. He would be so embarrassed, so distracted, so uncomfortable. But you walk straight towards him and that’s even worse. If he has to tell you that he’s busy meeting someone else he might spontaneously combust, explode into tiny particles of humiliation. It would ruin everything, his date and his crush on you. What if his date shows up and sees you with him? What if–

Oh no, you don’t stop approaching, you don’t take a turn, you walk up straight to where he’s waiting – with a hint of hesitation, yes, but very directed steps. Copia jumps up immediately, his black hat nearly falling from his head.

“Oh, Sibling,” he stammers, lifting a trembling hand to adjust his fedora. “Hello, hi. Are you spending some time outside today as well?”

Your mouth opens and you wring your hands before hiding them behind your back. “Hello, Cardinal. I ugh… I’m supposed to meet someone here under the chestnut tree.”

Copia furrows his brow, slowly registering your words. “Meet someone. Under the chestnut tree.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, Satan. It’s you?” He stops, stares, comprehends. He sounds incredulous, his voice a higher pitch than usual. “You’re my stranger?”

You nod, big eyes staring into his mismatched ones in silent expectation, hope and fear muddled together in the crease of your brow. He doesn’t know how to react, just rubs his thumb and index finger together as his mind races faster than speed limit.

“Is this… is this bad?” you finally ask, breaking the awkward silence.

“No!” Copia exclaims. “No, no, no. Please, please sit.”

You do, kneeling down on the blanket a little hesitantly. Copia joins you, still not fully trusting his senses. This feels like a hallucination. His disbelief has to be the only reason he hasn’t passed out yet. Is he really on a date with you right now?

After another moment of silence, Copia notices you eyeing the basket and snaps back into reality. His plans, his very detailed plans for how this date is supposed to go, flood his mind and he remembers the first step now. Swallowing his shock, he sits up a little straighter.

“Ah, eh… yes, I got you something.” He reaches behind the basket and procures three deep red roses he stole from Primo’s rose garden on the way here. Their intense smell hits his nose as he whips them past his face and hands them over. “These are for you. I hope you like roses. I know it is a bit cliché but also a classic, no?”

“I love them,” you assure him, holding them up to your nose with a smile. “Thank you, they’re beautiful.”

He smiles. “Good, good. Yes. So… I thought about what we could do and–”

“Cardinal,” you interrupt then.

“Oh, no. No, call me Copia. Please.” He gives you a shaky smile. “We’re on a date, no?”

“Copia,” you try but feeling his name on your tongue doesn’t make you feel any better. Ever since getting here your bad conscience made it hard to fully settle into this date and with his visible distress upon discovering it’s you, you feel like now is the time to address it. “Before… before we do this, I have a confession to make…”

He hums and wriggles his eyebrows. “Oh, really? Well, I would love to see you in confession soon…”

You blush furiously. “Oh, no. No, that’s not what I meant.”

A flash of concern and you can practically see all of his insecurities mirrored in his eyes. You’re both tiptoeing around the same question, you assume, but it’s on you to take the plunge.

“What… what do you mean then?” he asks.

“About this date…” His lightheartedness completely disappears. You feel bad for ruining the mood but it’s too late now and you need to get it out, you owe him that much. “Copia… It wasn’t a blind date on my part. I… I knew it was you.”

“You knew it was me?” he asks and again his features change, eyes wide now. He really had no idea that people knew the ad was his and suddenly he feels like a fool.

“I’m so sorry, I should have been honest from the start.” You stare at his gloved hand but you’re too scared to take it. “I hope you can forgive me for keeping this from you.”

“You knew it was me and you still… you still wrote to me? You still came?”

You furrow your brow. “I didn’t tell you because then I would have had to admit that it’s me and I was scared that maybe you wouldn’t want to go anymore.”

“Me? Not… not…” He shakes his head so fast that his fedora once again threatens to fly off. “Oh, tesoro, I would have… I would have been on the moon with joy, as they say. Yes, yes, I would have.”

You don’t correct him. Instead, an insecure smile settles on your face. “You know you don’t have to say that, Copia, it’s okay if you were hoping for someone else… That’s the risk of going on a blind date, right?”

He yanks your hand out of your lap, wrapping it up in both of his gloved ones. “Tesoro, can I be very honest with you?”

You nod. “Of course you can. Always.”

“I was hoping it was you.”

Your breath catches and steals your next words. The same incredulity that hit him earlier now settles in your chest and you can’t find it in you to question him.

Copia immediately fills the silence. “I never… I never thought…” You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down, a nervous swallow, before he wets his lips. “Tesoro, you were always very good to me. I always saw your kindness, you understand this, yes? Don’t get me wrong, I just… I never thought you were interested in me like this. In such a silly old man.”

You have to giggle through your nerves. “I love that you’re a silly old man.”

He smiles shyly. “You are very sweet, tesoro.”

“I’ve actually had this crush for a few months now,” you admit, encouraged by his positive reaction. “And I want you to know that when I saw your ad I thought about calling even before I knew it was you.”

His smile grows impossibly bigger at that. “Did you?”

A nod. Copia squeezes your hand, then brings it to his face for a kiss. You feel his wet lips on your skin and they’re so soft, so gentle. When he sets your hand back down you see a trace of black lipstick on its back and instantly feel warm and fuzzy inside.

“Should we start then?” he asks. “I brought a lot of things, let me show you.”

The basket opens to reveal a plethora of food and drink options. Copia sets down a foil-wrapped plate with sandwiches that look a little wonky so you assume he made them himself, then some juice boxes, apple and orange, a box of fresh, delicious-looking strawberries, two bottles of water, reusable plastic cups and plates. At last, he hands you one of many different muffins he must have stolen from the kitchens.

“For my dolcezza,” he says with a smile.

More heat spreads in your cheeks as you take the little treat from him with a thanks. You’re both visibly losing your nervousness now, your postures less cramped, stretching out your limbs on the blanket with your bodies angled towards each other.

“Maybe we should… talk a bit about us?” Copia proposes. “To get to know each other, sì? I would like to learn about you.”

“Oh, yes, that sounds good. Do you want to start?”

He thinks on a good starter question, the pressure clouding his thoughts for a moment but then his silence grows thick and he has to say something. “So, ugh… do you like Star Wars?”

This is not one of the questions on his list of conversation starters. For some reason, every single meaningful thought suddenly leaves him. Luckily, this simple, safe question seems to put you at ease and you relax even more.

“I do,” you say. “I watched all the movies.”

“Oh, good! And what is your favorite?”

You pluck a piece from your muffin, popping it into your mouth. “Hmm… The Empire Strikes Back, I think.”

“Hehehe, sì, sì, I am your daddy.” His eyes widen. “Not that I’m… I don’t mean… you know, the scene with Luke… ugh. So, anyway, yes, that is my favorite as well.”

You giggle and he lights up, smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt. You reach for one of the sandwiches then. Copia helps, holding the plate up for you.

“So, these are all inspired by Italian foods. I have ugh… caprese. Mozzarella and tomato?”

You reach for the one he showed you. “That sounds great, thank you.”

Copia can’t help but stare as he awaits your reaction. You hum in delight and immediately take another bite of the soft bread. Satisfied, Copia allows himself to grab one as well now. Conversation slows down as you eat but you continue to talk about your interests between bites, finding more and more similarities as the minutes pass.

Your little spot is beautiful, cool enough to sit comfortably but warm enough to feel the reviving effects of spring. The leaves above you rustle every now and then, birds and bees flying past, the odd ant crawling over your blanket in search of some crumbs. Neither one of you is bothered as you sip on your juice boxes in tandem and intuitively increase your proximity.

With your bodies gravitating towards each other like that, you end up sitting very close after a while. Copia reclines against the tree trunk, pulling his hat down to grant him more shade, a little bit like a cowboy leaning against the walls of a saloon. His white suit is an odd contrast to his relaxed pose, not the most comfortable outfit to lounge in. Without thinking too much about it, he pulls you close to him and angles you so you can rest your head in his lap.

You’re only tense for a short moment. Copia gets rid of his gloves and you can feel his bare fingers running over your scalp. The steady pattern he draws calms you and you sigh, closing your eyes for a few minutes as a warm feeling of safety spreads out in you.

Copia can’t help but stare. Despite the initial hiccup, you’re so comfortable around each other that he feels like he’s known you forever. This is a dream come true for him, all his fantasies, his wishes, his longings, they all seem to come together in the lovely face dozing in his lap. You’re the most stunning sight he ever had the pleasure to behold. Every line, every hair, every mole, blemish or scar combines into the most beautifully painted canvas – and to him, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.

“Do you want a strawberry, tesorino?” he asks then.

You open your sparkly eyes and they reflect a speck of sunlight breaking through the canopy. Blinking a few times, you shift in his lap to avoid being blinded. He tenses as your cheek narrowly misses his groin, but then you nod and he distracts himself by reaching for the box of strawberries.

With careful fingers, he grabs one of the shiny heart-shaped fruits, making sure to touch the stem to avoid any stains, and then guides it to your mouth. He can’t help but stare as he sees your lips part for him, the tip of your tongue peeking out to welcome the sweetness. You sink your teeth into the red flesh, so eager, and spatters of juice stain your lips. They appear even more saturated as you lick them clean, wetting them with your tongue, and he so desperately wants to kiss you.

“They’re so sweet already,” you say, taking the rest of the fruit from his hand.

“Yes, I agree.”

You giggle. “Copia, you haven’t even tried one yet.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean the strawberries.”

You huff out a flustered breath, fighting the still evident smile on your face, and hold the half-eaten strawberry up to his mouth. “Try.”

He lets you feed him with burning cheeks, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As his teeth meet the flesh, a few droplets of juice fall astray but he doesn’t even care if they ruin his suit anymore. He can’t stop looking at you, thinking about your soft hand so close to his mouth. He wants to kiss it again, desperately, and so he traps it with his when you try to pull away. With his lips pressed to your palm, he closes his eyes, kissing all the way down to your wrist where he lingers.

You gasp softly, lips parting as Copia continues to drag his lips over the delicate skin. Your reaction brings a smirk to his face, another moment that he’s going to think about for days to come.

“I tried, dolcezza,” he says. “And I think you’re still sweeter.”

You blush so prettily at that. Flustering you is easier than he expected and he takes notes of every little thing that draws a reaction from you. You spend another hour like this, eating fruit, drinking juice, chatting about all sorts of things while you exchange soft touches and words of your blossoming affection. At some point, the gentle breeze that carries on throughout the afternoon becomes stronger, and more and more people head back inside to escape a possible weather change.

Neither one of you wants to leave but as you start to shiver more violently, Copia’s worry about you catching a cold wins over his desire to prolong your date. He proposes to head inside as well, running his hands over the goosebumps on your bare arms to warm you up.

When you reluctantly agree, he starts to pile your dishes and the leftover food into the basket. You move to help but he stops you with a tut. “I will pack this up, eh? Don’t worry about it.”

“I could help you, you know.”

“Ah, no no. I invited you, yes? It is my pleasure.”

It only takes him a few minutes to pack everything up. You grab your flowers in the meantime and he watches from the corner of his eye as you sniff them with a growing smile on your face, swaying slightly from left to right. As Copia shakes out the blanket, folding it messily in the middle, you hesitate by the edge of your little picnic spot.

“So, do you want to walk back together?” you ask.

Copia smiles, glad that you don’t want to leave him quite yet. “I would like that a lot, tesoro. Should I carry the roses for you?”

You hand them over and he places them on the lid of the basket before he carefully picks it up. When he’s by your side again, you stop him with a hand on his forearm, the same gentle squeeze you gave him the last time. Only this time you don’t leave. Instead you lean in and press a soft kiss to his reddened cheek, your lips lingering for a few seconds longer than necessary. Copia opens his mouth but he can’t think of anything to say. Instead he uses his unoccupied hand to fish for yours.

Hand in hand, palm against palm, you walk past the leftover groups of Siblings that make use of the last few moments of sun. Neither of you spares anyone else even a glance. Whenever your eyes aren’t focused on the path ahead, they meet each other, giddy, love-sick smiles gracing your lips.

As you finally pass the first archway and enter the cool stone corridors of the abbey, Copia suddenly stops. Your arms slowly extend as you take a few more steps but before your hand can slip from his, he pulls you back. Maybe he used a little bit too much force or maybe he just caught you by surprise, but you practically stumble into his arms. A gasp falls from your lips. You make no attempt at breaking away and so Copia gently guides you against the frame of the archway, setting down the basket in the process so he can place his other hand on your hip.

Big eyes look up into his. He leans in slowly. The rim of his hat catches the stone and it finally slips from his head, dropping somewhere. Copia doesn’t care because he can already feel your sweet strawberry breath on his lips and nothing could stop him from getting a taste. Your hands impatiently grab at his lapels, then, pulling him even closer, and he gasps at the force of your need. With your eyes falling closed, lips slightly parted and your chin tilted up, Copia feels like he’s in a dream.

“Please,” you whisper.

He has to fight a moan, the word resonating somewhere deep inside his belly. Still, he draws out the moment for as long as he can, stalling as the tension crackles in the tiny space that separates you. He starts by nuzzling your nose while he pushes his hand upwards until he can grasp your jaw. As he angles your head just right, he feels your lashes fluttering against his cheeks. He fights off a giggle as they continue to tickle his skin and you shift slightly against him, growing impatient.

“Co–”

His mouth swallows your next syllable. You hum against him as his lips capture yours with gentle adoration. The grip on your waist tightens at the same time as his thumb presses into your cheek. Want, need, trickles into your belly and Copia feels the same way, moving his mouth against yours with slightly more pressure. The kiss is still slow, still tame, but it’s unmistakable how much stowed up desire for the other you both hold inside.

For a while you continue like this, your body trapped between Copia and the cool stone and the world around you a mere shadow. You open your mouth for air and that’s when you can feel his tongue cautiously pushing against yours. The sensation makes you feel even more fuzzy, the need for oxygen forgotten as you tangle your tongue with his. The taste is sweet, residues of fruit and juice, and underneath it all you feel Copia. Copia.

You only break away when you’re both struggling to keep up the pace. He’s a mess, his lipstick gone, black smears covering his chin and cheeks where his eye make-up rubbed off. You lift your hand to wipe some of your mingled spit off of his chin and the blissful expression on his face makes you smile. You love to see his face ruined like this, you decide. And Copia, seeing the lipstick-smears all over your kiss-swollen mouth, unknowingly thinks the same.

“We should do this again sometime,” you say. “The date but also… this. Actually, I think we should do it again right now.”

Copia chuckles, resting his forehead against yours. “How about we never stop doing it?”

You nod your approval, wrapping your arms around him to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. It’s soft, if a little bit sweaty, messy from the loss of his hat. “I would like that a lot, Copia.”

“I mean it, tesoro,” he whispers with a hint of insecurity. “I don’t want to stop spending time with you. Ever. We already wasted enough of it.”

A big smile breaks out on your face. Copia can’t help but return it, squeezing you a little tighter to his body, and you giggle happily as he kisses your nose.

“You’re right,” you finally say. “Let’s not waste another moment.”

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this silly little story – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡

Masterlist – My Ao3

#i dedicate this to all of my awkward cardinal lovers #been dying to write more of him since the christmas fic #cardinal copia #copia #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia fanfiction #copia fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #copia fluff #cardinal copia fluff #copia x reader #papa emeritus x reader

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dilatorywriting · 6 days

Text

Truth Potion

Vil Schoenheit x OC x Rook Hunt Word Count: 9.7k

Summary: Truth Potions should be banned from the proximity of any and all far-too-attractive people for all time. Least of all when dating one of them who would be far to keen to use said lack-of-filter to his advantage.

[OC Archive]

🌶️🌶️🌶️ WARNING for Spicy Content! WARNING for References to a Character's Previous Death

READ WHAT YOU LIKE, BUT BE MINDFUL OF WHAT YOU READ

The potion exploding in her face was nothing unusual. Saya had been cursed with cat ears, and fluffy tails, and all sorts of strange ailments at this point. It was like there was a target on her back that the universe had put there saying ‘hey! You! Don’t let this poor idiot escape a single potions lesson unscathed!’

What wasn’t familiar was the strange, staticky lull all throughout her mouth. Making her tongue feel light as a feather.

“That didn’t taste very bad,” she mumbled to herself, and then wondered why she’d muttered anything at all. “But I guess a lot of things don’t taste as bad as I was expecting them to.”

“Oh?” Deuce coughed, good-natured despite his own singed eyebrows. “Like what?”

She shrugged. “Cum.”

And then immediately screamed into her hands like she was being murdered point blank. She gasped against her palms in horror. Because she did not just say that. Out loud. In public.

“I didn’t mean to say that!” she wailed. “I haven’t even told Vil that! And he’s the one who’d actually want to know!”

She clamped her fingers over her mouth again and screamed louder.

“Oh my god,” Ace chirped, like this was the greatest gift God could have ever gifted him and all of mankind. “You got truth dosed.”

Ro blinked in worry from his place at the desk nearby. “Is she going to be alright?”

“No!” Saya wailed.

“Quick!” Ace beamed, dashing forward like a hound after a hare. “Ask her everything you’ve always wanted to know! Before it wears off!”

“Or before she kills us,” Jack scowled under his breath.

“I would never kill you,” Saya said, serious. “I don’t think I could. You’re too beefy. But you’re too nice too. The best. Right behind Deuce.”

“Oh,” Jack rumbled, gold eyes going wide and then quickly shooting away.

“This seems a bit like we’re taking advantage…” Robyn mumbled, looking guilty.

“Thank you,” Saya huffed. “Because—”

“Do you like me, yes or no?” the redhead blurted as fast as he could, and then immediately looked terribly chagrinned about it.

“If anything happened to you I would kill everyone in this room and then myself. You’re my best friend in the whole world and I wish you were actually my brother so I could finally have something good in my stupid genetic pool.” The words tumbled out like the shrapnel from a bomb—wild, and uncontrolled, and loud. Saya squawked in indignation. “Robyn Starling!”

“Sorry! Sorry! I just—I needed to know!”

“Fuck you!”

“Out of everyone in this room, who would you wanna fuck the most?” Ace piped in, like a rabid little demon.

“Jamil!” Saya blurted, and immediately covered her mouth in horror. Said Vice-Warden’s head popped up from his place hovering over his own cauldron, and he immediately looked like he wanted to melt into the floor and disappear from their entire plane of existence. But then, like some kind of absolutely malicious trick of fate, the words just kept coming. “Or Professor Crewel.”

“Someone go get Schoenheit,” the man in question groaned, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “Quickly.”

“A truth potion?” Vil muttered, rubbing his thumbs along a dot of blue smeared high along her cheekbone. “That’s all?”

“That I can tell,” Professor Crewel sighed.

“This is the worst day of my life,” Saya grouched, and then seemed to reconsider. “Actually, that was probably when I killed myself the first time around. But this is pretty up there.” Another pause. “Worst day of my life so far.”

Vil fought the urge to dig his fingers into his temples. He could already feel the stress headache forming. The last thing he needed was the add new wrinkles on top of that.

“How long until it wears off?”

“Hopefully no more than a day,” Crewel hummed, considering. “Perhaps sooner, if you can get her cleaned up quickly enough.”

“He can never clean me quick enough,” Saya complained past the shield of her fingers. “He always ends up fucking me in the bath, which is entirely counterproductive. Especially when he’s the one complaining about tight schedules. Like, sir, it’s your own fault you’re late. You didn’t have to spend half an hour with your tongue up my—”

Vil clamped a hand over her mouth and Saya looked grateful beyond measure.

“Please just get her out of public,” Crewel sighed, looking like he’d aged ten years over the course of the afternoon. “Before I have an aneurism.”

Saya said something else against Vil’s palm, but thankfully it came out too garbled and flat to comprehend.

“Of course, sir.”

The House Warden dragged his miserable, red-faced girlfriend out the office doors and down a back hallway—determined to skulk away to Pomefiore as stealthily as he could possibly manage.

“God, what I wouldn’t give to be in the center of a Schoenheit-Crewel sandwich,” she sighed once his palm was off her lips, and then immediately paled from head to toe, like a ghost. “I might actually kill myself again.”

“Do not even joke about that,” he snapped.

“Can it be a joke if I’m under a truth spell?”

“You know,” Vil smiled, poisonously poised and vicious, “Perhaps I should go back and let you make your offer in person, hmm? I’m on decent enough terms with the Professor. Perhaps we can make an arrangement, if you’re being so truthful in the moment.”

Saya tucked both hands over her mouth and allowed herself to be herded back towards the elaborate, Pomefiore dorms in silence.

The bath that followed was entirely unsexy, and Saya nearly bit through her bottom lip in an effort to keep her bubbling complaints under wraps. Vil practically dunked her like a rag against a washboard, and she couldn’t help but think that he always got a bit like this—a bit too upset, a bit too mean—whenever her untimely demise was brought up all over again. Which, on one hand, she couldn’t blame him. Whenever Robyn talked about his own death, it made her stomach fall and her hair stand on end. And if Vil had done what she had—Well. She’d be upset too. So she sat politely and quietly in her towel until the stupid potion got the better of her.

“I just don’t get it,” she said into his glacial sneer. “It’s not like it matters.”

“The fact that we’re having this argument yet again when you can’t even physically lie about it tells me you need more therapy than there exists on this godforsaken planet.”

“I am a little broken,” she shrugged, and something in the model’s amethyst eyes went so terribly sad. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I mean, I meant it. But I shouldn’t have said it. I don’t like upsetting you.”

Vil sighed and reached out to dry her hair, gentler now. Scrubbing the soft towel over her short, blonde, waves in little circles.

“I know,” he said. “And I’ll reward your valiant efforts by not pushing all of the things I would so love to use this opportunity to push.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” she hummed, leaning into his kneading. “Not if it’s you. Not really, at least. Even if it is embarrassing.” She paused, and he watched her try to physically swallow down the words in her mouth before they came tumbling out anyways. “Your cum tastes good, by the way. Well, not good. Not like, I don’t know, candy or whatever. But like, not bad at all. I thought you should know. Because I said it earlier, but you weren’t around. And now you are. And now I also need to throw myself out the nearest window.”

The startled laugh that ripped out of his throat was entirely less dignified than he would have liked.

“Is that so?” he trilled, beyond amused. “I suppose I’m glad my healthy diet has been useful for… other unexpected benefits, as well.”

Her face screwed up like he’d forced her to drink rotten milk and he couldn’t help himself from feeling hopelessly fond at this miserable, sopping wet, little wreck of a person.

“Anything else you’d like to confess?” he grinned. “While I have your full attention?”

More nose scrunching. “What do you want to know?”

It sounded like the question had to be pried out of her mouth with pliers. Vil’s smile went a little wicked. He dropped the towel to his bedroom floor so that he could dig his fingers into her damp hair.

“What’s your favorite part? Of all the things I’ve done to you?”

“That you’ve loved me,” she said instantly, and that teasing mew melted off his face in a heartbeat. Saya looked positively stricken. “Oh my god, please. Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because I love you,” he chirped, mocking, and she made a gagging noise. “But as touched as I am by your sentimentality, I had meant on the more physical side of things. It’s so hard to get your honest feedback.”

“I thought you liked that,” she said, a bit mulish. “The whole ‘stubborn’ thing. Having to pin me down.”

Saya watched the round, black circles of his pupils jump and dilate. The twist of his mouth went smug and warm—familiar. In all the best and worst possible ways.

“Is that why you do it?” he cooed, a dangerous lilt to his voice that had goosebumps dancing down her spine.

“Not completely,” she mumbled, gaze slipping away and cheeks going pink. “I think some of it is just—just me, too,” she gulped as his nose trailed down her neck. “That’s really distracting.”

“Is it?” he drawled.

“I just said it was!”

“You’re so lovely to me, do you know? Working so hard to try and meet my tastes,” he said against her collarbone, and she shivered. “What else could I do for you, I wonder?”

“You do more than enough.”

Vil couldn’t help but feel flattered at the ringing truth in that proclamation, but he pushed forward nonetheless. This was a golden opportunity not to be diminished—not even by the charming warmth of their sentimentality.

“But I could always do more. Tell me—I’m always open with the things I’d like to do to you. What’s something that you’ve always wanted to try.”

“DP,” she burst out, and then immediately ducked her head to shriek against his shoulder. “Oh my god, please forget I just said that. Well, don’t forget it. Because it would be—really, really—I just. Oh my god!”

“You weren’t kidding then,” he tutted, warm and calm, dragging a soothing palm against her lower back, “when you mentioned the professor and I earlier.”

“I mean, only a little. I’d never be able to look Crewel in the eye again. It wouldn’t be worth it. Especially when I think he’s just starting to like me.”

Vil huffed. “He adores you.”

“Yeah, more like he’d like to hit me with a-door.”

“I can see this isn’t the time to address your self-worth issues,” he droned, and then worked to shift back into the direction he’d been so carefully coaxing. “But either way. You were saying? Something about being taken by—"

“I know it’s not practical!” she immediately squeaked. “Like, I am fully aware you only have one dick. And also, like, I love you. I don’t have any desire to like, go around fucking some other random person just to, I don’t know, satisfy some weird fantasy. Everyone has their like, Thing that they’re like ‘wow. That’d be super hot. Will never happen. But damn.’ And that’s just—I don’t know. Mine.” A pause, to take her breath. “Also, like, it takes two to tango. Or, well, three in this case. And I’m still reeling over the fact that I’ve managed to trick one person into sleeping with me, let alone two.”

Vil couldn’t hold back his snort. “I’m certain you could find more than double that on this campus alone who would be more than willing to step in to fill the role at a moment’s notice.”

She crinkled her nose. “Even if that was true, I still love you most. I don’t want other people.”

“And if I found someone suitable to partake in this? Someone who has perhaps displayed a keen interest in the past and who I trust enough to involve? Someone who’s already proven more than enthusiastic about the topic?” Vil asked, and he watched her eyebrows jump up in startled confusion. “Would that be amenable then? If you had that on top of my fullhearted approval and support?”

Her brow furrowed, clearly taken aback. “Who the fuck are you talking to about screwing me?”

Vil snorted another laugh.

“My, you’re feeling crude today.”

“It’s this stupid potion and you know it!” He watched that tight little tick in her brow grow deeper as she dove into the depths of her thoughts, searching and searching for an answer he was sure she’d find. All of a sudden she choked. “Are you talking about Rook?”

“I knew you’d get there eventually, kitten.”

“But he—” she gaped. “He doesn’t—I haven’t—” she spluttered. “He doesn’t even like me. I bet he’d hang my head over his fireplace if he got the chance.”

Vil barked out a laugh. “That would certainly be the highest of compliments.”

At her continued fretting, he leaned closer to tug her in tight and go back to running his fingers up and down her spine. “Naturally it’s your choice, but I can assure you, I’ve heard more than my fair share of soliloquies about the wonders of your bountiful bosom to know he’d be more than thrilled to assist.”

“They’re not even that big,” she grouched under her breath. “But that’s… Even if he was okay with it, what about you?” she asked, nervous.

Vil grinned, sharp and seductive. “Darling, who hasn’t shared something so private with their closest friend, hmm?”

“Uhm, me?” she gaped. “If you ever catch me in a three-way with Ro, please just shoot me in the face—"

“You’re moving away from the point,” he accused, snagging her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Now. Tell me—would that be a situation you’d be amenable to?”

She chewed at her lower lip hesitantly and looked up at him through her lashes. “I trust you enough that if you think it would—it would be a good idea, then…”

“This isn’t about me,” he tutted.

“Everything in my life is about you,” she corrected sharply, and then immediately went beet red. “Fucking just—gag me or something. Please.”

Vil laughed. “That can be arranged. But first,” he grinned, moving to slip lithely to his feet. “I do believe I need to have a conversation with my Vice Warden.”

“Shouldn’t we at least wait until the potion wears off?” Saya asked, hoping she didn’t sound nearly as panicked as she felt. “And, I mean,” she spluttered. “This all probably feels a bit sudden, right? Like, I know if someone knocked at my door one minute to—to—"

Rook’s answering grin had a shiver running down her spine and Vil reached out to tweak her cheek like an unruly child.

“Nonsense. How else will we know if you’re being honest about the experience, hmm?”

“That’s fair. I do lie about how I’m feeling a lot,” she said, and then instantly bit into her lip with a scowl. Fucking— “But that still doesn’t answer the,” she waved her hand around her head. “The other bit.”

“Ahh, but what predator could ever turn down such an opportunity to pounce when a feast is presented to him, hmm?” Rook cooed, hand over his heart as if he was about to start delivering a grand poem. “Particularly when it is a meal I’ve most looked forward to. And I can promise that I have thought on it long and often, mon chaton,” he smirked—a strange, dark, twisty thing that showed perhaps a few too many teeth. “It is so hard to look away when so much fluttering beauty twines itself so frequently beneath a shared roof.”

Dutifully ignoring the implications of that little statement, she frowned and said, “But you like pretty things.”

Vil frowned right back, but before he could launch into another one of his irritable spiels about self-value, and ‘in the eye of the beholder, blablabla,’ Rook ducked in and scooped her hands up between his.

“There is loveliness in delicacy,” the hunter agreed easily, smoothly. “But there is also beauty in a storm, in destruction. Qu'est-ce que la vie sans la mort? Qu'est-ce que l'amour sans l'horreur? And you, petite tentatrice,” he grinned, “are the loveliest storm of all.”

Her mouth dropped open in shock. “I’m sorry, but did you just French your way into saying that me being an unruly bitch is hot?”

“Ahh,” he crooned, lifting a hand as if he was about to swoon, “you’ve found me out!” And then that grin was back, sending all kinds of nervous goosebumps racing down her arms. “An easy hunt may speak to one’s skill well enough, but sometimes I can’t help but hope for a chase.”

“You’re unsettling her,” Vil warned, reaching out to twine an arm around her waist and rub soothing circles into the divots of her hips. “I told you not to overdo it.”

“Ah, pardonne moi, pardonne moi!” he lamented. “But I could hardly help myself.”

Vil’s amethyst eyes narrowed, a silent reprimand and threat all in one. You will help yourself, that glare warned. And while the Vice Warden certainly didn’t outright cow to that sneer, he dipped his chin in easy submittance nonetheless.

“Of course, mon reine,” he chirped. “This is a gift! And I will do my best to cherish it so.”

He reached forward and brushed a wayward strand of honey-hued hair from Saya’s eyes—fingers landing neatly on her cheek after to rub at the spreading flush there.

“How could I not? Especially after you’ve trained her so wonderfully.”

Saya gasped in indignation, that nervous blush staining plum red with rage instead.

“I’m not a fucking dog!” She snapped. “And he hasn’t—I haven’t been—”

“We’re working on it,” Vil droned, and Saya started spluttering all over again.

“We are not!”

“Well, we aren’t,” the ethereal beauty sighed, as if terribly put upon. “That is my job, after all. And you don’t make it easy, darling.”

The snarky retort twisted off her tongue with the taste of popping bubbles and lingering herbs, and instead, what came out was a pouty, “I thought that was the point.”

She cursed colorfully under her breath and Rook burst into gleeful laughter.

“Oh, she is just merveilleuse, mon reine. Je suis honoré que vous souhaitiez partager une telle merveille avec votre humble serviteur.”

Vil scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Perhaps if you were so humble as you’d like me to believe, you wouldn’t have been so bold in your spying these past months.”

Rook held up his hands with another snicker, as if to say ‘you caught me!’

“But it worked, did it not?” he beamed, and then leaned forward to nuzzle along the underside of Saya’s jaw. His teeth skimmed the delicate, pale skin there and she pressed back against Vil with a squeak.

Vil rolled his eyes yet again and shifted so that Saya could tuck herself up against him in one, long lean line. Like a cat arching away from the wandering hands of an overenthusiastic guest and towards the familiar warmth of its owner. But all that being said, proper socialization was all in the name of the game. And he would be terribly bereft to go lax in his diligent efforts now of all times.

“Gently,” he reprimanded. “She startles easily.”

“I’m not a—” she squeaked again, and Rook ducked forward with another sharp nip. “It’s not weird to be jumpy. I’d never done anything like this before I met you.”

“Ah, comme c'est chéri,” Rook cooed, as he burrowed in closer and latched his mouth against the hollow beneath her throat, sucking an angry, purple bruise against the pale skin there. “Did you know,” he trilled, popping back with a preening little smirk to observe his handiwork, “that our dearest queen does have quite the love of, ah, how did you describe it?” Rook mused. “Un amour de la corruption?”

“Rook,” Vil sneered, lip curling in warning.

“Not like that’s anything I didn’t already know,” Saya scoffed under her breath, and then squawked when familiar, painted nails dug into her hips.

“What was that, kitten?”

“I—I just meant,” she gulped, cursing that stupid potion with every fiber of her being. “It was—you got excited. When I said I was—that I had never—and you—I—” she trailed off with a nervous incoherence.

Vil hummed against her neck and she shivered.

“This is quite the difference,” he mused, a note of interest curling over his words. “To ask for an answer and to receive one rather than some stuttering, biting attempt at maintaining your dignity. I can’t say I’m opposed.” His hands trailed lower. “Perhaps not forever, but as an anomaly—as a treat,” he smirked. “For all my hard work.” She could feel the blunt, rounded edges of his nails trailing back and forth at the inseam of her thighs. “I do enjoy the ensuing correction far too much to want this new sweetness of yours to become a permanent fixture in our lives, but for the time being…”

Saya gulped, and she could see Rook’s eyes trace the movement like a fox watching a rabbit’s hole.

“Tell me, won’t you” Vil demanded, head going high once more and some of that haughty, put-upon superiority lighting his eyes. Saya knew that expression, and it meant literally nothing good for her hips or spine for the upcoming days. “What makes this so appealing to you?” He grinned against her hair, sharp. “Wanting to be taken so thoroughly.”

“I—” she spluttered, feeling those awful, terrible remnants of magic dancing around her mouth. “It just—I—” and then that arcana popped with a focus and she was babbling all over again. “It just seems—seems nice. To be wanted that badly to be shared like, like something special. And—being between—the, the warmth of it seems—I…” She was going to die. Melt into a puddle and stain his stupid carpet with her untimely end. “I like to be squished, and held. And being that full seems nice.”

“Tellement poétique!” Rook crooned, looking nearly sparkly-eyed with wonder.

‘I hate this,’ she tried to spit, but instead, “I don’t mind this.”

Vil snorted a laugh into her hair.

“Yes, darling. I could tell.”

His hand dipped past the edge of the towel and brushed pointedly between her legs. He pulled back when she squeaked and held his fingers up with the same air as a teacher offering a demonstration. The wetness on them caught the light overhead—shining and slippery—and Saya tried to bury her face in her hands.

“You’re not particularly subtle,” he hummed, amused. And Saya felt like her blood was about to boil straight out of her veins.

And then, because apparently the love of her stupid life was actively trying to send her into cardiac arrest, she watched through her fingers as Vil stretched forward and offered his hand for Rook’s inspection. The hunter’s gaze tracked the slow, sticky drip of her and his emerald eyes pointedly flickered down to the space between her thighs, still artfully hidden beneath the fringe of the bath towel. And then those too-bright eyes slipped back up to meet hers and he leaned forward to lick a long stripe up Vil’s palm.

“No need for embarrassment,” Rook promised, licking his lips pleasantly. “Neither of us can lay claim to the notion of subtly either, favori.”

“Oh my God,” she choked.

“Ah, ah,” Vil tutted, twisting his other hand forward to pinch at her thigh. “We’ve talked about this.”

“Vil,” she gasped, a bit too close to a petulant whine.

“Better,” he smirked, and then reached up to loose the folds of her little towel, sending it fluttering to the mattress beneath them. Saya shivered at the rush of cold air, and then again when she caught the strange, predatory gleam in their guest’s green eyes. His gaze was like a tangible thing, running over every bit of exposed skin like the edge of a blade dipping along her shaking limbs.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” she snipped, embarrassed.

“Oh, not to worry!” he chirped. “I’ve taken several!”

“What—"

Vil twined his fingers through the shorter hair at the base of her skull and tugged. “Focus, kitten.”

“I’m always focused on you,” she snapped, potion bubbling off her tongue. And Vil rewarded her honesty with another sharp tug and a dip into a deep kiss. He pressed her down until she was dizzy, and when he finally pulled back with a contented hum and a flickering, wine-warm smirk, Saya felt like she was ready to melt into the bed.

“How do you always look so stupidly put together during sex?” she complained, unbidden. “And I always wind up looking like I’ve been railed halfway to Sunday.”

Vil snorted in amusement. “Perhaps that’s the point.”

His purple irises jumped past her shoulder and then the bed was dipping again. Saya blinked, not even having realized that Rook had stepped away. But then the hunter was back and she squeaked as a pair of deceptively well-muscled arms hauled her up against an unfamiliar and very naked chest. Vil nodded, as if in satisfaction with the state of things, and then eased himself back towards solid ground to also begin the process of divesting himself of his ridiculously intricate House Robes.

A pair of unfamiliar fingers snagged her chin and Saya found herself turned to face a smile that would not look out of place on a shark.

“There you are, chérie,” Rook purred, like a big cat hulking down over its kill, and then ducked forward to press his mouth against hers in a kiss that was like a whirlwind. While Vil kissed like an artform—a perfected, poised, creation that pushed as soft or as hard as he felt suited the moment, Rook kissed like he meant to eat her alive. He nipped at her lips until Saya was tasting copper, and the self-satisfied groan that rumbled from his throat had her nearly vibrating out of her skin.

The bed was dipping again and she felt another set of far more familiar hands work their way around her waist—pushing the leach away and dragging her back across the sheets to sprawl along a lean lap. Rook laughed, pleasantly amused, and pointedly reached up to wipe a speck of blood off his chin.

“Poor thing,” Vil sighed, brushing a thumb along the smear of crimson at the corner of Saya’s own abused mouth.

The poisonous beauty leaned forward to press his lips back against hers. He laved his tongue across the fresh cut there, easing the sting and sharpening it all at once.

“He’s just terrible to you, isn’t he?” he cooed, all mocking softness. “I suppose you’ll never be able to complain about my own methods again, once this is over. I’m not nearly that mean, am I, kitten?”

“I like it when you’re a little mean to me,” she admitted, eyes darting away in mulish embarrassment.

Vil chuckled against her throat—a warm, satisfied thing. “You’re providing me with far too my ammunition this evening, darling.”

“You think I don’t know that?” she snapped. “I’m literally never going to live this down.”

“Ah,” Rook trilled, slipping forward to tuck himself up against the skin of her back. And Jesus, she’d known the two of them were pretty substantially taller than her, but being wedged between them like this was a stark reminder of just how teeny she was. “But is it not better to be open and true with the one you love, hmm?”

“It’s not my fault I’m emotionally constipated,” she grumbled.

“Oh?” the hunter mused. “If you provide me with a list of the ones who are suitably responsible then, I would be more than happy to ensure that such a strain upon your person would never occur again.”

“Uhm,” Saya spluttered. “Appreciated, but… I mean, they’re all back in my old world anyways.”

“Ah,” he hummed, ducking over her shoulder to press another kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Quel malheur.”

There were too many hands at her waist, and the pull of it was a bit disorientating. Saya swayed into one kiss and then another, neck craning back and forth—left to right, left to right.

“How would you prefer us?” Vil asked, with all the casual nuance of someone inquiring after the weather. It was going to drive her insane. And holy fuck, holy shit, they were—

“—actually doing this,” she choked, feeling lightheaded and far, far too warm.

“Of course,” Vil smirked, amusement playing across his face. “Unless you want us to stop.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” she squawked, and then buried her face in his shoulder in humiliation. Rook laughed, chiming and musical against her collarbone.

Vil reached around to dig his fingers into the soft flesh of her rump and squeeze. “Well? You haven’t answered me.”

“…You in front?” she asked, tentative. “So I can…”

“So you can?” he pressed, dragging her back and forth between them in a horrible, torturous grind.

“So I can kiss you,” she mumbled, pink from the tip of her chin to the roots of her hair.

That upright, royal smugness melted from his face for a moment in a wave of golden fondness, and he ducked in to press a sweet, soft kiss to her lips—his hands coming up to cup her cheeks and run gently through her mused hair. She could hear Rook let out the most besotted little sigh, like he was watching a favorite scene from one of Neige’s romcoms.

“Ah, l'amour vrai,” he breathed, leaning forward to hook his chin over her shoulder. “I never will tire of the sight.”

“Mmm,” Vil hummed, pulling away from her mouth with a lingering nip and a long, deep drag of his tongue along hers. “I suppose not, if I have any say in it.”

Saya blinked—dizzy, and warm, and jaw still hanging slack—and Rook laughed at the startled look on her face.

“Meaning he’d like to keep you forever, mon coeur,” he chirped. “So such a treat on the eyes will never have an expiry date.”

“Oh,” she whispered, still far too dazed and only falling further into that horrible, hot spiral when Vil’s fingers shifted back down to her waist to pull her back into that slow, smooth, grind between them. It was awful, and wet. And surely she was making a hideous mess of the sheets. And their thighs. And all of it. But neither of them seemed to mind, only groaned low against her skin as the blonde beauty rocked her and back and forth, and back and forth, and back and—

“Still alright, kitten?” he laughed, leaning forward to suck another dark mark against her throat.

“I want that,” she blurted, and it came out shivery and far too high. “Being—” Son of a—No! No! She had some dignity left! And stupid fucking truth potion or otherwise, she wasn’t going to let him tease her into saying— “Being yours forever.”

Another kiss, so deep and strong it had her collapsing back against Rook’s chest with the push of it. She whined against painted lips and she felt the hunter’s pleased rumble along her spine in return.

“Si réactif,” he sighed, dipping down to the other side of her throat to lave a matching mark to one Vil had only just bitten into her skin.

Vil hummed again, deep in his chest—lips trailing from her mouth, down her chin, and all the way to her collarbones. “Isn’t she?”

“Okay, okay,” Saya squawked, fighting a shiver when Rook’s hands curled around her front to cup at her chest. “Can we stop talking out how stupidly squeaky I am and just—just get on with—"

Two of Vil’s fingers curled up into her in one, sharp thrust and she gasped.

“What was that, kitten?” he cooed. “I couldn’t hear you—” another brutal thump thump thump, another strangled exhale, “over whatever—” gasping, and gasping, “you were trying,” Saya squealed, hands coming down to tug fruitlessly at Vil’s wrist as he drilled up into her over, and over, and over—“to say?”

She bucked against his grip and then Rook’s palm was slipping forward to press down hard just below her naval. And she could practically feel the tips of Vil’s fingers grinding up against the hand at her abdomen. Full, and tight, and so, so—

The hunter’s other hand dipped low between her legs to rub tight, focused circles against her clit and the winding, spring of heat in her gut just about snapped. Hard, and fast, and sudden. And then it was gone. Those crafty, wet fingers slipping away to stroke along her flank instead. Saya threw her head back against Rook’s shoulder with a whimpering gasp. She bit into her lip and pressed her fingers over her mouth in a bid to trap some of the horrible, embarrassing noises trying to sneak off her tongue. To trap the complaint, that she could feel bubbling up along with those awful, terrible mews. Because if she ever, in all her life, let a whiny, little ‘why did you stop?’ pass her lips, Rook Hunt would never let her live it down. Ever.

She breathed through her nose, counting slow and steady as she tried to drag her head back out of the clouds. And just when she thought she was settling that horrible, heat addled, fog into something manageable, the grinding started again and she squeaked.

“Wh-What are you—” she choked, twisting down against a third finger. A fourth.

“I know that normally you prefer a bit of a sting,” Vil said, and Saya was nodding along with the bubbles of that godawful potion before she could help herself. There was a twitch in Rook’s fingers along the dip of her spine, and she could feel his nails dig into the skin there like he couldn’t help himself. “But this is something new, darling. So it’s better safe than sorry, hmm?”

“I wouldn’t be sorry,” she blurted, and then cursed under her breath. “Probably.”

Vil chuckled, indulgent, against her cheek, and then curved his fingers in a way that had her seeing stars.

“Another time, perhaps,” he trilled, soft, and went back to scissoring back and forth. A steady, slippery grind to ease their way.

There was a curious hum at her shoulder and then Rook’s fingers were dancing back around to tap at Vil’s steadily rocking wrist.

“May I?”

Those heavily lined eyes narrowed for a moment, considering, and then he slowly shifted his hand to make room for Rook’s own, slipping two fingers aside to leave a soft, warm space between them.

“Carefully,” he warned, firm.

“Bien sûr, bien sûr!” Rook trilled, delving forward too fast, and too quick, and not in line with his sweet, little reassurance at all. Saya squeaked and clenched her thighs shut around his hand. Hips stuttering on the rapid thump, thump, thump of his knuckles meeting her folds. She arched away with a gasp, toes twisting in the sheets and head tossing back and forth in a tight, strangled little mewl.

“Slower,” Vil snapped, and Rook sighed like an unrepentant child with their hand caught in the cookie jar.

“Yes, yes. As you say, mon reine.”

The brutal pace grew more tempered, more constrained, and Saya’s muscles slowly eased out of their rigid arch. Vil hummed, approving, and deftly began to twist his own fingers again in time with Rook’s enthusiastic exploration.

“Angle yourself a bit more towards the front. And a touch to the right,” he coached, and then there was familiar pressure against a tight, far too sensitive part of her that had Saya keening. “Ah. That’s it then.”

“Merci, merci, Roi de Poison,” Rook beamed, “for your marvelous guidance, as always.”

“Please, just—” she begged, twisting and bucking against the mess of hands between her legs. Because she couldn’t—it was all—there was so much—and— “It’s fine. I’m ready. Please. Can you just—”

There was a sharp pinch at her hip that had her whining and flinching away.

“Don’t rush me, kitten,” Vil chastised. “You know the rules.”

“Of course I do,” Saya snapped, more of those same, terrible truths popping along her tongue like fizz off a soft drink. “And breaking them is the only thing that gets you to actually fuck me nine out of ten times. So of course I—"

Another wicked sting at the inside of her thigh, and Saya yelped.

“My, you are an unruly, little thing aren’t you, favori?” Rook cooed, nails raking up and down her pale skin like he wanted to etch those stark, red lines into her flesh like a tattoo. “Your darling Queen adores you so much, and this is how you repay him?” There was a near-feral, hungry spark in those emerald eyes that had her trembling. And suddenly Saya felt very much like a rabbit trapped between the jaws of a cackling fox. A feisty, smirking predator who just wanted any excuse to chase, and pounce, and bite—

“Enough, Rook.”

Another sigh, long and lamenting. And Saya shivered against a fresh wave of goosebumps.

Vil hooked a finger beneath her chin and pulled her forward into a slow, syrupy kiss. His tongue traced steadily along hers, lining her teeth, pricking her canines, twining round and round until she was easing back against him with a soft sigh.

“There you are, kitten” he hummed, pulling back with a thin, sticky trail of saliva—keeping close enough that it didn’t have quite enough stretch to snap and break between them. He cupped her cheeks between his palms and Saya did her best to ignore the stripe of thick, slippery wetness that rubbed along her skin. “I think we’ve teased you enough for one night, don’t you?”

She nodded, still a bit too shivery and teary-eyed. Trembling like a leaf in the wind. And Vil leaned forward with a sweet coo to offer her another kiss.

“Do you still want this, darling?”

Another nod. One that she probably would have offered even without a Truth Potion coursing through her veins. Because, yes. It was a lot. But—but that was the whole point, wasn’t it? And Rook was still a bit, well, himself. And Saya still felt like he was two steps away from sinking his teeth into her throat and never letting go. But she trusted Vil to stay the Hunter’s hand—to keep them both in line. So she twisted her fingers through his own, finely manicured ones and leaned forward to press a soft, tremulous kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“There’s my good girl,” Vil hummed, an indulgent, little smile curling his red lips. “Now, how to best go about this…”

Manicured fingers rose to clasp firmly along the line of her shoulders, and then Vil was easing her back flat against the mattress. Her head landed with a soft ‘thump’ against Rook’s thighs, and immediately the hunter’s hands were curling into the loose waves of her hair, raking his nails along her scalp until she was shivering all over again. Vil slid his palms down along her sides to cup under her rear and raise her hips off the pooling, silk sheets. One curved further along her lower back to keep her aloft, and the other ran down her legs one at a time, hooking one calf around his waist and then the other.

He shifted forward on his knees until he was looming over her and ducked down to press another deep, breath-stealing kiss into her lips. And then he was rocking forward and slipping in slow and smooth. Saya whined against his mouth and he nipped softly at lower her lip in reprimand.

“Relax, kitten.”

She whined again and tried to shift her hips to better accommodate the familiar stretch, but Vil dug his fingers into her side to keep her firmly in place, tapping one, painted nail against the dip in her waist like a reprimand. She stilled under that firm grip all at once and Rook trilled something enthusiastic and saccharine sweet in her ear.

“Si bien entraîné,” he cooed, peppering kisses all along the curve of her jaw, up her cheek, along the bridge of her nose. “Si adorable,” another wave of pecks along her forehead. “Tu le prends si bien, favori.”

Saya scrunched her nose beneath the endless press of fluttering lips, ticklish, and Rook laughed—bright and fond. He leaned in closer to run the broad flat of his tongue along her lips instead and Saya fought a complaint, because that would just open her mouth up to the rest of him. And going by the spark darkening that emerald leer of his, that was exactly what he was hoping for.

Vil shooed the hunter away with an exasperated wave of his hand and shifted his palms back along the dip in her spine.

“Up, darling.”

He rolled back onto his knees and Saya shifted obediently alongside him—letting herself be swooped up from the long, lean sprawl and into his lap. She wobbled a bit and dug her teeth into her lip to focus on keeping her balance. It was an odd sort of position. Normally when Vil settled her in his lap, she was flush with his thighs. Pressed core to core so that he could grind her down along his length and whisper terrible things into her ear that made her melt. Now, she was situated far further up—sticky clit bumping against the firm muscles of his stomach and thighs shivering into an arch. Like trying to hold a rising trot on a horse.

Vil ran a soothing hand up and down her trembling sides.

“Good girl, doing so lovely for us” he hummed, pressing her closer and encouraging her to grind low, slow circles against his abdomen. Saya fought a shiver and bit her lip harder. “Stay just like this, hmm?”

She nodded, jittery but determined, and he smiled indulgently against her throat.

Amethyst eyes flashed towards their guest and Vil dipped his chin—an order. And then Rook was draping himself along her back once more, hands curling around to knead and pinch along her chest like he couldn’t help himself. Squeezing handfuls of soft, squishy flesh between his palms, rolling pink peaks between his fingers in sharp, overenthusiastic twists, and panting near-indiscernible obscenities into her neck all the while. Vil shuffled them around until they were situated to his liking, smacking at Rook’s limbs whenever the hunter tried to readjust himself or slip too close too soon. Two sets of hands dug themselves into her hips, and Saya could feel the hot, blunt press of Rook at her back like a brand. He sighed, whimsical, against her shoulders and rutted short, aborted thrusts against her rear—leaving smears of tacky, warm precum in his wake like a signature. Saya could feel it cooling in sticky trails all along her skin, but Rook seemed more than merry with the idea of letting it pool there, thick and messy, until they were stuck together at the hip from it.

She was still pressed up at that awkward angle, still rubbing those soft, wet, maddening circles right where Vil had told her to. And even though her thighs were really starting to ache, Saya realized oh. Like this, Rook could drive right up into her, couldn’t he? They both could. And then, after she was wrapped up between them like a lock and key, they would be able to pass her back and forth so easily, and—

Vil rocked up into her in one quick, sharp thrust and Saya’s attention was immediately snapping back to him on a high-pitched keen.

“Focus, kitten,” he chastised. “Just for this part, at the very least. So that we can make sure everything’s going the way it should. And,” he pressed, flicking at her nose, “because you will be telling us if anything hurts. Understood?”

The potion popped in her mouth with a vengeance, and she found herself pouting, “But I like when it—"

Vil nipped at her lips to stop the words in their tracks, but Rook was already gasping delightedly in her ear.

“You know what I mean, sweetheart,” he chuffed, amused.

The House Warden propped his chin against her shoulder to press a wet, lingering kiss beneath her ear. And with his teeth still scraping against her skin, he canted his head back to shoot Rook the coldest, sharpest look she’d ever seen him level at the hunter in their bed.

“She’s small,” Vil said, like a warning. But there was something else there too, underlying. Something curling, and dark, and possessive that Saya wasn’t really sure what to make of. “So you need to be careful.”

She couldn’t see Rook’s reaction from over her shoulder, but whatever stare down they were locked in felt like it dragged on for an age. And then, finally, Vil was relaxing against her with a nod and drawing the both of them back into the little cradle of limbs he’d so deftly constructed.

“Go on then,” he ordered, in the same, haughty tone he might use for making demands of an unruly student. “She’s waiting.”

“A crime I shall never be able to repent for,” Rook crooned, and then dug his fingers along Saya’s hips until she was carefully arching away from Vil’s with a soft hiss.

It was a bit of an awkward balancing act at first—trying to keep herself from tipping too far forward or too far back. To keep Vil between her legs without slipping off entirely while also bowing her spine enough to give Rook the access he needed. He panted along her shoulder, biting and licking as he went in a way that made her think of rabbits and predators all over again. She could feel the steady, blunt pressure of him as he rocked forward bit by bit. Careful, just like Vil had demanded he be. Saya shifted against the strain in her legs and gave a tentative swivel of her hips, trying to coax him into seating himself deeper. And, naturally, Vil was there in an instant to nip admonishingly at her throat and tighten his grip until she kept herself still once more.

“Be patient, kitten.”

I am being patient, she wanted to whine back, but in that moment, Rook hit a point where the resistance seemed to give way all at once, and she was sliding all the way down against the both of them with a noise like the air had been knocked straight out of her lungs.

Vil groaned, low and punched out, against her neck, and Rook hissed from behind his teeth.

“Si serrée,” he gasped, hips rabbiting up fast—once, twice—like he couldn’t help himself, and Vil snapped something under his breath that Saya was too out of her wits to make sense of. Because it was so, so much. So tight, and hot, and the pressure was just, so, so—

She panted around them and dug her nails into Vil’s shoulders hard, hard, hard. He didn’t even flinch.

“Alright?” he asked after a moment, mouthing gently at the hollow below her collarbone as he glanced up at her from beneath heavy lashes.

“Mmhmm,” she nodded, jerkily, dizzily.

“Nothing painful?” he coaxed, and Saya shook her head until her hair was flying around her cheeks. The pressure and the tight, tight, tight, tight of it was almost too much to bear. Teetering precariously along that ledge of ‘too much.’ But it was also so, so good—

“It feels—”

“Go on,” Rook teased, voice a bit tremulous and breathy, and she could feel the words slither along the shell of her ear. Vil shushed him sharply and then pressed another encouraging kiss to her throat.

“Don’t mind him, darling. When you’re ready.”

“It’s nice?” she managed to choke out, when Vil shifted a bit at her front and it sent a tidal wave of all sorts of unfamiliar pressure through the rest of her. Lovely, and full, and different, and—

“Ah, avez-vous entendu que, mon reine?” the hunter tutted. “We are but ‘nice.’ That doesn’t sound like much of a resounding success, no?”

“No,” Vil hummed on a wry sort of agreement that sounded like nothing but trouble. He shifted again, giving an experimental rut of his hips as he did so that had all three of them shivering on a moan. “Not exactly a ringing endorsement. How unfortunate.”

“Very nice?” Saya spluttered out frantically.

“Oh, come now!” Rook mewed, and she could feel his fingers reaching around to dig into her hips and gently begin to pull her down. “Surely we can do better than that, mon reine.”

“Surely,” he echoed, gaze flitting pointedly over her shoulder to whatever expression was curling over their guest’s face. Vil’s eyes narrowed again, but that swimming, dark something from before was absent. Now, it just looked like a challenge. Saya could feel Rook’s smile widen against her cheek. “Keep to my rhythm,” Vil demanded, giving another sharp, deep, push that had Saya dipping back on a gasp. Rook chirped in delight.

“I will, as always, endeavor to follow your lead in all things, mon reine,” he trilled, letting his own hips jump forward in response. It was too hard, too quick, and Saya yelped when the force of it nearly toppled her out of both of their laps.

“Rook.”

“Apologies, apologies,” the hunter cooed, giving another, gentler thrust. “I was too eager, I’m afraid.”

Vil huffed under his breath and then started up his own, measured grind. He twined his fingers along Saya’s hips and pulled her down at each upward press. Meeting his thrusts in time so that they struck long, and deep, and hard along all the familiar, sensitive places that he knew far too well. It took a moment for Rook to match it—to push in as Vil eased out. To rut just hard enough to have her whining and gasping but not squeaking in discomfort. And Saya was dying. The press of the two of them was so, so much. She felt out of her skin—like her pulse was a match to the pressures in her belly and those alone. She raked her nails down Vil’s back until he was hissing with it and Rook trilled in delight.

“Next time,” he sighed, dreamy, and stuttered on a thrust. “Ah, la merveille de sentir tes griffes dans ma peau,” he crooned. He bit at her throat, hard, and Saya choked on a squeak. “What I wouldn’t give—”

“Focus, Rook,” Vil snorted, reaching a hand down between them to rub tight circles against Saya’s clit until she was shivering.

“Ah, désolé, désolé,” the Vice Warden chirped, and then drove up hard enough to nearly send her sprawling all over again. But this time he kept his fingers firm around her waist, hauling her down against the pair of them just as sharply. And Saya keened.

Vil didn’t even bother to chastise him this time, his own head falling back on a startled grunt at the tight, tight heat—his hips catching on the slick drag of it and nearly tugging him under. He dug his fingers in alongside Rook’s and pulled her down harsher. Until Saya was hiccupping on every thrust and panting desperate, whiny sentiments against his shoulder. That curling, clawing warmth in her gut spiraled higher, and Vil’s eyes caught on hers like a shark scenting blood in the water.

“Almost there, kitten?” he breathed against her cheek, wet and fast. “We do have an audience this, time, don’t we?” he cooed, pupils pulsing so wide and blown that they nearly swallowed the amethyst there in its entirety. “So we’re going to have to make it count.”

And then his fingers were working over her clit in earnest and Saya squealed.

“Vil—”

“Louder.”

She gulped, nearly choking on air, and that potion bubbled in her veins like a promise.

“Vil.”

“Can’t hear you, darling.” Which was absolutely rich, coming for the man currently pushing words past his throat like he trying not to gasp for breath. Like every other sound coming out of him wasn’t some airy, punched-out groan.

“Vil—"

“You can do better than that, kitten.”

Saya’s very rightful complaint broke into a squawk when Rook drove up harder. When the two of them met in the middle in perfect sync—in a perfect, terrible pressure that was far too much. And she wanted to scream, and scream, and—

“That’s it, darling.”

Saya wailed, tucking herself tight against Vil’s chest like she could crawl inside him if she pushed hard enough. That she could live there forever alongside the staccato thump thump thump of his heart at her front, and Rook’s at her back, and—

The spring snapped and Saya was tumbling over the edge all at once. Rook moaned, low and long, from over her shoulder and Vil cursed under his breath. Both sets of hips stuttered at the tight, tight clench and then, as she was still trembling, and panting, and seeing stars, Vil groaned and released deep inside her in a familiar, wet, wave of heat. Rook followed not a moment after, sighing, and gasping, and pushing forward as far as he could go.

It took a long, long time for her to come down. And even after that, Saya was still shaking, and shivery, and far too oversensitive. Rook shifted at her back—still tucked up as deep inside as he could manage. Still wet, and warm, and heavy—and she winced at the tender sting of it. Vil’s lips traced a soft, sweet pattern against her temple, murmuring reassurances that she still wasn’t quite in the right mind to make sense of, and then he was gently easing her off the both of them and back down towards the sheets. Carefully, carefully. Saya’s thighs throbbed, and then the rest of her gave an answering, sore flinch. All the way down to the core of her. She was sticky, and aching, and there was a pool of white, tacky, wetness cooling between her legs that she could feel trailing down, down, down. She shifted with another flinch, hoping to take some of the pressure off her hips, and Vil’s hands reached down to slot a pillow beneath her lower back.

“There you are, darling,” Vil hummed, tucking her gently between the pair of them so she could curl up into his side, mess be damned. Rook draped himself delicately along her back, rubbing circles into the bruises by her hips and cooing soft, low sentiments into her hair. “You did so well, sweetheart.”

Saya grumbled something drunkenly incoherent into his chest and Vil chuffed in amusement against her flushed cheeks.

“Une prestation magistrale,” Rook encouraged, still a bit warbly, a bit breathless, and licked a long, lazy line over the sweat beading along her skin. “Truly, I have never witnessed such perfection in human form, mon coeur.”

Saya’s head lolled forward on another, soft hiccup and she snuggled in tighter—embarrassed. Limbs loose and shivering.

Vil’s hand trailed up and down her arm in slow, measured strokes.

“Too much?” he coaxed, concerned, and Saya managed to shake her head until he was laughing at her under his breath. “Ah. Just enough then, I suppose.”

She took a moment to just breathe—to take in the familiar scents of Vil’s lingering cologne, the soft, floral breeze of his shampoo, the lavender musk that was just him. And overlaid amidst all that cozy comfort was the smell of cypress and pine. Of ozone, and leather, and sprawling forests. Saya scrunched her nose nervously against Vil’s collarbone for a moment, taking in another few, deep breaths to steady herself. And then she turned back onto her side, wincing all the while. The hands at her hips faltered, and with careful, cautious movements, she managed to flop all the way over without squeaking even once.

Saya peeked up at Rook from beneath her golden lashes, nervous. And then slowly, hesitantly, she leaned forward to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Uhm…” she spluttered, quickly averting her gaze and ears going pink in chagrin. Despite how innocent it was in comparison to all the things that they’d just done—what they’d done to her. “…Thank you.”

And then she was ducking back into the safety of Vil’s arms far too quickly, wheezing in discomfort when it tugged at muscles she didn’t even know could ache. She burrowed back into his chest with a sniffly little whine that was far too teary for her pride to admit, and Vil was immediately back to cooing and carding his fingers through her hair.

The House Warden smiled into her mused locks for a moment longer before letting his sharp gaze dart back to the hunter sprawled out beside them.

Rook had a hand delicately raised to his cheek, as if he could trace the imprint of Saya’s kiss with his fingertips alone. His green eyes had gone wide with surprise, and there was a strange, curling, spark blooming in them that Vil knew far too well.

“Oh,” Rook whispered, sounding choked. Like his heart had grown enough to swell past the cage of his chest, to press hard and welcoming against his airway like it couldn’t help itself. Ready to steal the last breath it could. Ready to take it willingly.

Vil snorted into Saya’s hair and let her press herself in an exhausted puddle along his side, right where she was always meant to be. He closed his eyes, feeling the pleasant, sore twinges in his own muscles as he settled back against the pillows. A moment passed in silence, and then another. And then, predictably, Vil could hear the soft shft of Rook slipping closer along the mattress—feel the dip along Saya’s hips as the hunter draped himself over her back like a cloak.

Saya stiffened for a moment in surprise, but then was slipping back into sleep between one, soft breath and the next. Vil tucked himself against her nape and felt the brush of Rook’s hands as he reached forward to clutch at the teeny, shivering blonde between them like a lifeline. Vil sighed again and let himself be lulled into a dreamless doze alongside her.

They could discuss the future another time.

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x OC #Vil Schoenheit x OC #Vil x OC #Rook Hunt x OC #Vil x Rook x OC #vil schoenheit #Rook Hunt #My Writing

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galacii-gallery · 3 months

Text

Shattered Fates AU: The Beginning [ Chapter 1. ]

Read it on Ao3 ( Edit: fixed the problem )

read it below! [ Exclusive Images Included ]

The battlefield, where it began… adorned with statues of the villagers they knew before, ruined buildings that used to be tall… the stump where their ‘mother’ laid. It was all there, and they were too… the guardians of this world, ending it all again with conflict. Such a cruel fate, these two. Arrows pierced in tar, while on the other side of the field was a skeleton covered in yellow, dripping from their chest and skull, a tendril impaled the being; keeping him still in this. The two souls looked to each other… one hoped that the other would give up, the other had differing intrusive thoughts.

“Again, I win and you… the hero of this story.”

he pulls the drowsy target close, face to face with a grin he then speaks truthfully.

“...you’re dying- certainly not like every other fairy tale huh?”

Coughing erupts from the dreamer, then they glance up to Nightmare

“...you’re right.”

even in their weak state, they smile

“though next time, perhaps this story of ours will have a nicer end.”

“Next time? Ha- you wish.”

the triumphant sneered.

“ I don’t wish, It just happens.. Though I doubt you’d understand.”

Dream then spoke of a distant concept, one believed that only particular humans could possess.

“not this time, not the next… not the four hundredth either… ha, will things ever change?”

“You’re insane… crazy even, you should know that we only have one chance.”

their head disdains, vision starting to get drowned by yellow. A faint whisper left his teeth, silence filled the air.

The entity looms over, it was clear by now it ate his brother entirely in this life too.. It ‘freed’ them from their sadness.

Nightmare brought his hand to Dreams neck, holding it up and softly told them.

his grip loosened, the Dreamers head dropped more. One part of Nightmare felt.. Bad, however it was flooded out by the images which it provided; how Dream was the one to bring this upon himself.. By not helping but instead fighting what he has become.

. . .“Finally kicking the bucket?”

“Maybe things will change... In your next run possibly?~”

The Nightmare commented, after hearing Dreams' continuing silence.

Their grin twisted and contorted, his tone became that of someone making fun of the other.

A thud could be heard in the place where it all began, a vision of Nightmare walking away from the scene… turned to pitch black. The ringing in Dreams head began to vanish, becoming hushed.

Their words haunted dream, next run?... ha. Sure, next run. Then we’ll see what’ll change… surely.

Dream lifts their head with the last of the energy that stayed within their core, something began to break in him… not just his heart. Their sunken eyes, the one not broken hues darkened; tainted by the battle.. Finally went out.

White noise, a quiet place again... pitch black and empty. They saw this so many times, he lost count.

“Again, I win and you… the hero of this story.”

he pulls the drowsy target close, face to face with a grin he then speaks truthfully.

“...you’re dying- certainly not like every other fairy tale huh?”

Coughing erupts from the dreamer, then they glance up to Nightmare

“...you’re right.”

even in their weak state, they smile

“though next time, perhaps this story of ours will have a nicer end.”

“Next time? Ha- you wish.”

the triumphant sneered.

“ I don’t wish, It just happens.. Though I doubt you’d understand.”

Dream then spoke of a distant concept, one believed that only particular humans could possess.

“not this time, not the next… not the four hundredth either… ha, will things ever change?”

“You’re insane… crazy even, you should know that we only have one chance.”

their head disdains, vision starting to get drowned by yellow. A faint whisper left his teeth, silence filled the air.

The entity looms over, it was clear by now it ate his brother entirely in this life too.. It ‘freed’ them from their sadness.

Nightmare brought his hand to Dreams neck, holding it up and softly told them.

. . .“Finally kicking the bucket?”

“Maybe things will change... In your next run possibly?~”

The Nightmare commented, after hearing Dreams' continuing silence.

Their grin twisted and contorted, his tone became that of someone making fun of the other.

A thud could be heard in the place where it all began, a vision of Nightmare walking away from the scene… turned to pitch black. The ringing in Dreams head began to vanish, becoming hushed.

Their words haunted dream, next run?... ha. Sure, next run. Then we’ll see what’ll change… surely.

White noise, a quiet place again... pitch black and empty. They saw this so many times, he lost count.

“Again, I win and you… the hero of this story.”

he pulls the drowsy target close, face to face with a grin he then speaks truthfully.

“...you’re dying- certainly not like every other fairy tale huh?”

Coughing erupts from the dreamer, then they glance up to Nightmare

“...you’re right.”

even in their weak state, they smile

“though next time, perhaps this story of ours will have a nicer end.”

“Next time? Ha- you wish.”

the triumphant sneered.

“ I don’t wish, It just happens.. Though I doubt you’d understand.”

Dream then spoke of a distant concept, one believed that only particular humans could possess.

“not this time, not the next… not the four hundredth either… ha, will things ever change?”

“You’re insane… crazy even, you should know that we only have one chance.”

their head disdains, vision starting to get drowned by yellow. A faint whisper left his teeth, silence filled the air.

The entity looms over, it was clear by now it ate his brother entirely in this life too.. It ‘freed’ them from their sadness.

Nightmare brought his hand to Dreams neck, holding it up and softly told them.

. . .“Finally kicking the bucket?”

“Maybe things will change... In your next run possibly?~”

The Nightmare commented, after hearing Dreams' continuing silence.

Their grin twisted and contorted, his tone became that of someone making fun of the other.

A thud could be heard in the place where it all began, a vision of Nightmare walking away from the scene… turned to pitch black. The ringing in Dreams head began to vanish, becoming hushed.

Their words haunted dream, next run?... ha. Sure, next run. Then we’ll see what’ll change… surely.

White noise, a quiet place again... pitch black and empty. They saw this so many times, he lost count.

. . .

[ * You need to live on. ]

[ * Wake up. ]

. . .

But what’s the point? It’ll repeat once more.

Attempts to prevent their downfall failed, the least the world could do was let him rest once more in this quiet place.

. . .

[ * You don’t have that choice. ]

. . .

[ * I believe that you'll change fate. ]

. . .

The Silence was soon broken, birds began to chirp and the light was starting to invade their resting place, the ray landed on the skeletons- they were both laying on top of a hay pile, dozing away from prying eyes.

they mumbled a bit, struggling to sleep before waking up in a cold sweat, their arms wrapped around themselves before settling on their ribcage. Even after going through this several times the phantom pain still gets to them.

after investigating It was clear that they were staying in a farm shed, a place where he and his brother would stay when they’d get the chance to; better than sleeping in those stone-like beds. Besides the dreamer was their brother, well what they were before the incident… still asleep.

...There was a brief moment where their imagination had gotten rid of it woke up- thinking of that even for a moment sent chills up their spine, what was wrong with them?

Soon after they brought themselves up from the makeshift bed, leaving the other behind. Dream walked to the door, making sure to stay quiet.. Their hands pushed and the rays poured in, waking their brother in the process- suddenly they brought up their hands, trying to combat the sun by blocking it from their face

“mmmgh…”

his expression scrunched up.

“Shut the doooor-”

the response to this was a slight chuckle from Dream, after they spoke

“I’ll let you get back to your beauty sleep Night… though it’d be bad if Mr. Neriah found you hum?..”

The other jumped awake, stumbling up

“Gods no-”

he sighed, placing their hands on their head- saying in a defeated tone

“...I still remember how he made us clean the entire basement-”

a pause came out of their brother... they had caught what their sibling called them, confusingly they said

“Night?? Who- you know my name!-”

they were then cut off with

“-Because we didn’t show up for morning prayer! It’ll surely happen again if we don’t get there soon-”

they grinned a bit

“you’ll get your name out of my mouth once you beat me there yeah?”

Dream rushed to the door, swinging it open.

The door began to shut as one of the Skeletons left. They jumped up and scurried, putting on their worn out jacket

“Wait up!- wait up- I'm getting ready-”

they then followed, making sure the door wouldn’t slam on the way out.

“Jeez, aren’t you up and ready for this!”

they sighed as they finally began to catch up

“You normally avoid it..”

Dream quieted down for a second, thinking of what he'd say back then.

"...Just have a hunch, trust the gut! especially mine!"

The two strolled towards the Village from the farm shed, it was full of life, Humans and Monsters in harmony… working together to make things work, buildings in which they made.. Bakeries and shops galore; but in the very center of it was their ‘mother’. But even in this ‘paradise’ there were still things wrong, they should know this well. As they continued some waved, others looked at them in distaste… the two were used to this treatment, Dreams brother was just glad that group of kids weren’t here. Their brother was starting to notice the glares given to them… To ease tensions growing, Dream then asked.

“Think we should grab something after?”

their brother paused, thinking

“But we don’t have the money- you know this- interrupting the other”

tsk-

“who knows, a miracle could happen!”

The twin looked away slightly, surely if miracles happened it’d be better to hope on something else other than bread.. A real family, maybe?

“...Sure. let's say if one were to happen, who’d get it?”

Their brother jested, Dream beamed, smiled even

“Both of us, Brother.”

he suddenly pressed his finger on his brother's nose, causing them to kind of push Dream away a bit afterwards holding their precious nose

“you should know I wouldn’t leave you behind… or out of things, especially a meal.”

Dream mentioned, even after everything they didn’t exactly want to leave their brother out of the good things which fate provided. Their brother was grateful that he wouldn't be left behind if that were to happen.

“Now since that’s done-”

Dream clapped their hands together, now approaching the church.

“Let's say hi shall we?- haven’t seen everyone in a while.”

the other was confused about that last bit, raising a brow- considering they had just seen the others the day before.

“...We just saw them yesterday?..”

the Dream told them in kind

“Those hours felt like days.”

Now time for their 'grand plan'

They snuck into the establishment, making sure to step on the floor which didn’t creak. Being barefoot has its perks… navigating around the place was easy, they had been there many times.. Dream had even memorized the pattern in which they’d have to go however... their brother wasn’t as fortunate to remember. A sound emerged beneath their feet- fear arose. Silence came after. . . the anticipation of something happening was ruined with the pitter patter of footsteps- not as loud as an adult but it still frightened them.

. . they stared at where it was coming from, the door at the end of the hall-

They were expecting it to be Mr. Neriah was going to be there at any moment but thankfully they were saved, a monster… one with a burn across their face arrived and greeted the two.

“Never seen you two arrive this early- is it a special occasion???”

they eagerly waited for a response, the rabbit crossed their arms.

“or did you fear that Mr. Neriah would give you that task?...”

Dream spoke up.

“Well, maybe. Just had a hunch something would’ve happened if we were late again!”

Felix commented after the other was done, then glanced to Dreams brother.

"Epiales you need to sneak up your game if you want to avoid it."

Nightmares name before the incident. Dream had almost forgotten it, but with this reminder it brought a weight off his shoulders.

Dream knew that very well… they had repeated this many times, mainly cause one of them couldn't sneak that well.

“Anyways that's fair, you could’ve been cleaning the outhouse next- after all it’s on rotation this week.”

“Whew, looks like we dodged a bullet…”

Epiales seemed a bit stunned at this, relief seemed to wash over him- while Dream acted normal as if they knew that was the outcome.

Dream spoke, un-phased. Felix then began waving them along, urging them to follow.

“Come now- be thankful later things are about to start!”

...There was a brief moment where their imagination had gotten rid of it woke up- thinking of that even for a moment sent chills up their spine, what was wrong with them?

“mmmgh…”

his expression scrunched up.

“Shut the doooor-”

the response to this was a slight chuckle from Dream, after they spoke

“I’ll let you get back to your beauty sleep Night… though it’d be bad if Mr. Neriah found you hum?..”

The other jumped awake, stumbling up

“Gods no-”

he sighed, placing their hands on their head- saying in a defeated tone

“...I still remember how he made us clean the entire basement-”

a pause came out of their brother... they had caught what their sibling called them, confusingly they said

“Night?? Who- you know my name!-”

they were then cut off with

“-Because we didn’t show up for morning prayer! It’ll surely happen again if we don’t get there soon-”

they grinned a bit

“you’ll get your name out of my mouth once you beat me there yeah?”

Dream rushed to the door, swinging it open.

The door began to shut as one of the Skeletons left. They jumped up and scurried, putting on their worn out jacket

“Wait up!- wait up- I'm getting ready-”

they then followed, making sure the door wouldn’t slam on the way out.

“Jeez, aren’t you up and ready for this!”

they sighed as they finally began to catch up

“You normally avoid it..”

Dream quieted down for a second, thinking of what he'd say back then.

"...Just have a hunch, trust the gut! especially mine!"

“Think we should grab something after?”

their brother paused, thinking

“But we don’t have the money- you know this- interrupting the other”

tsk-

“who knows, a miracle could happen!”

The twin looked away slightly, surely if miracles happened it’d be better to hope on something else other than bread.. A real family, maybe?

“...Sure. let's say if one were to happen, who’d get it?”

Their brother jested, Dream beamed, smiled even

“Both of us, Brother.”

he suddenly pressed his finger on his brother's nose, causing them to kind of push Dream away a bit afterwards holding their precious nose

“you should know I wouldn’t leave you behind… or out of things, especially a meal.”

“Now since that’s done-”

Dream clapped their hands together, now approaching the church.

“Let's say hi shall we?- haven’t seen everyone in a while.”

the other was confused about that last bit, raising a brow- considering they had just seen the others the day before.

“...We just saw them yesterday?..”

the Dream told them in kind

“Those hours felt like days.”

Now time for their 'grand plan'

. . they stared at where it was coming from, the door at the end of the hall-

They were expecting it to be Mr. Neriah was going to be there at any moment but thankfully they were saved, a monster… one with a burn across their face arrived and greeted the two.

“Never seen you two arrive this early- is it a special occasion???”

they eagerly waited for a response, the rabbit crossed their arms.

“or did you fear that Mr. Neriah would give you that task?...”

Dream spoke up.

“Well, maybe. Just had a hunch something would’ve happened if we were late again!”

Felix commented after the other was done, then glanced to Dreams brother.

"Epiales you need to sneak up your game if you want to avoid it."

Nightmares name before the incident. Dream had almost forgotten it, but with this reminder it brought a weight off his shoulders.

Dream knew that very well… they had repeated this many times, mainly cause one of them couldn't sneak that well.

“Anyways that's fair, you could’ve been cleaning the outhouse next- after all it’s on rotation this week.”

“Whew, looks like we dodged a bullet…”

Epiales seemed a bit stunned at this, relief seemed to wash over him- while Dream acted normal as if they knew that was the outcome.

Dream spoke, un-phased. Felix then began waving them along, urging them to follow.

“Come now- be thankful later things are about to start!”

They continued down the church hall, entering the foyer where the rabbit resided- following on they were soon gathered with the rest of the orphans. Most were monsters, the others humans… seeing the two enter made a few of them run up to the older siblings. Dream greeted them with ease, while Epiales stood slightly back not wanting too much attention- even with that though there were some they would interact with commonly.. Like the small feline Monster in a dress, their chosen name being Caspera. They showed off their dolls' new dress to Epiales and then he complimented it.

“Gloria’s dress is very nice, did you have Mr. Neriah help you make it?”

the smaller one shook their head- then pointed to themselves exclaiming

“Made it mythelf!”

They were proud of their accomplishment. after they pat their chest a bit and spoke proudly -

“no help thith time!”

The skeleton gave a sound of awe and then he placed their hand on Caspera's head, patting it slightly.

“I can’t wait for you to open up a store, I’m in dire need of new clothes and I love your style.”

He then gestured to their own clothes, Epiales was wearing a worn down jacket- it was handed down to him through someone who had previously been here. He then pointed at Dream and made it clear

“You should too!- your belt is practically falling apart!”

Epiales and Caspera continued their conversation, Dream started his own- with Felix. He sighed, looking at his homemade belt and pulling on it lightly, he really should get something new… maybe around the upcoming festival?.. they then turned to Felix. would there be any point in replacing it knowing what will come tomorrow?

someone, presumably dream hollered back, Epiales snickered a bit.

Caspera’s expression beamed, it was always their dream to be a tailor, to make things that they’d be content with… that their big brothers and sisters would be happy with too!

“...So any luck finding that hidden cache?”

Felix huffed a bit, then expressed

“not here, though I might let you in on what I found afterwards.”

he placed their hands on their hips, and stared at their belt.

“Need the funds from it for a new one don’t ya?-”

Felix teased, Dreams face flushed up in response.

The doors opened once again, a shadow covered the group.. A creepy light swayed back and forth and the children suddenly scattered. But the younger ones recollected by the figure which had entered- a few ‘Mr. Neri’s’ were said… some even said a few 'Papa Neri's'. The priest who ran the church was a Anglerfish monster, and despite their looks they were quite the angel- acknowledging the younger ones with nods and small greetings as they made their way to the pulpit. The priest opened the book, glancing over it and soon after to his kids.

They raised a brow once they saw the twins amongst the crowd- his voice rasped

“Good morning my children…. It seems like everyone is here, that is great- amazing even, we can keep this up… yes?”

Dream and Nightmare laughed nervously knowing it was directed towards them in general. Father Neriah then told the group.

“If things continue, perhaps a reward is in order… who likes the idea of getting a grand feast at the festival. my children?”

small gasps could be heard, clearly these kids were hyped towards the idea- then they all looked to the twins, urging them to keep this up! Stopping the glares, Father Neriah began to say

“Anyways, Now my children… Are we ready to give thanks to our mother Nimeeta?”

Also known as Nim, Nimeeta’s name was shortened due to religious views on speaking her full name. It is only permitted by high ranking priests, ones who hold similar views to the all-mother. neriah brought his hands apart, forming a sort of pose, a prayer pose one which resembled the two emotions coming together in unison.. The right hand represented the positivity in the world, the other Negative emotions both were equal in power and could influence the world. The children followed, a few of the younger ones messed up but were corrected after a few minutes. Neriah found this entertaining, seeing such young souls do their best. Now to what needed to be said.

. . .The prayer began, and Mr. Neriah spoke.

“ Our Mother Nim blessed us with life, giving up her divine form and created the tree of life; it breathed existence into us and our paradise.”

he shifted his arms to flip the emotions, reversing their positions

“Nim, a being of pure emotion, split her essence in two and gave it up for her guardians, her sons and daughters in future generations.”

he took a moment before continuing on

“We are grateful for the guides given to us, the two who protect the tree and the emotions which it holds… which we hold dear.”

Father Neriah then brought up

“ The emotions that were captured by the tree, souls that were given a chance to return to their Mother after their time was up… ”

lastly

“ We hope to find the new guides during this years festival, so that we may see your vision for us Mother.”

he then gives a bow.

“ Thank you mother…”

his hands clasped together, gently forming a connection between their hands

“We all give thanks for you listening to us, may we part with ease.”

he then loosened their grip before parting their hands, representing how Nim had parted their soul.

After all was said and done, the children rose once Mr. Neriah was done with their morning prayer. Dream would normally skip this all together.. It left a sour taste in his mouth, after all it was ‘Nim’ who cursed them with this repeating dream of his. Dream sighed a bit, it was always hard to get through that-

“Why the long face?-”

Felix asked.

“I- uh it’s nothing, really.”

He that wasn’t the case- so they surprised the other by pinching their cheeks a bit-

“Wh- hey let go!"

Felix narrowed their eyes, countering with

“not until you let me in on whatever's going on-”

they paused then said

“don’t tell me those punks are messing with you and Epi again!?”

Dream shook their head, denying their accusations.

“No, just feeling a bit under the weather I guess?..”

Felix chirped back.

“well… if you’re like that maybe you shouldn’t see what’s in the cache eh?-”

Dream blinked, bringing himself to then say

“Man you really want to know don’t you??”

he huffed a bit. giving in.. but he knew that chance wouldn't come.

“..fine on the condition it happens after the festival.”

Felix thought about it, nodding in agreement- putting their hand after this too

“shake on it?"

Dream rolled their eyes, shaking their hand

"Fine I'll shake on it”

some sort of sorrow showed on his face as he made this ‘deal’... would there ever truly be a day after the festival where they could meet and let secrets be free? It seemed unlikely.

Epiales and Caspera finally brought themselves over to the rest of their little group.

“So what now? Should we go find out what that miracle you mentioned would bring us?”

they didn’t believe such miracles could happen, but were curious none the while. The smaller one commented

“ miracle? I want a miracle! Ariadne can I go pleathe? “

Ariadne, Dream's given name… how ironic how he and his brother would be given these names huh? Dream looked down to Caspera

“If you can keep up, then yes- yes you can Cas”

Caspera jumped a bit in joy, and hugged their doll tight.

“Gloria we're going to the village! we can get all the thweetths!”

Felix turned to Dream and Epiales, smiling.. It’s not everyday that Dream lets Caspera join in. He was always worried that they’d get themselves hurt especially with the bullies which roam around, he’s glad to see the change.

“So what’re we still doing hanging around here- lets go before Mr. Neriah thinks we’re trying to set up a bucket again, yeah?”

the Rabbit mentioned. Dream nodded- Epiales looked at Dream- so they were the reason that water got dumped all over their dad!?- and he got thrown under the bus for it... that's why they cleaned all of that!?- oh he’s so going to get back at Ariadne later. Seeing Epiales reaction, Felix not realizing what he said earlier...

“heh heh- oops?...”

Dream sweated a bit, just feeling their brother's death gaze on him and Felix- grabbing Felix's hand he kind of rushed themselves out of the building.

Dream and Felix went outside and continued on into the village, even if Felix was the best runner it caught him by surprise just seeing how much strength and stamina that Dream held.

“Ha- Why the rush? Your brother isn’t that scary-”

Dream then paused, turning to Felix- his expression was serious but changed to a more calm one.

“..I know, I just fear what he’ll do in the future because of that.”

Felix pushed Dream a bit, not so rough if anything playful

“like what, mark your body with a sharpie?”

A long pause came after.

“...maybe.”

a burst of laughter came from Felix

“Really? That’s what you’re worried about- you scared me for a second.. Thought something more serious would happen.. especially after that look ya gave.”

Dream punched their shoulder, his face full of yellow.

“It is serious!- I can’t show up to anything looking like that-”

footsteps could be heard coming approaching the two.

“Fighting already? It hasn’t even been an hour”

Epiales said as they strided towards them, holding Caspera on their back, the Feline monster was laying their head against Epiales' back comfortably with their doll Gloria in hand..

“What’s it even about huh?”

Dream focused on Epiales

“Nothing much, just the usual.”

. Felix was about to say something but was stopped when Dream put his hands up to their mouth.

“Everyday matters!”

Dream didn't exactly want to give their brother Felix's ideas. in retaliation… after a minute passed Felix licked their palms- the skeleton shivered, afterwards sliding back- looking at his hands now making a

“eeeww.”

sound.

“That’s what you get!”

Felix blepped. Dream shook their hands, then laid them on their own pants trying to wipe off whatever the Rabbit left.

“Oh I know what you’ll be getting Felix-”

he rolled his sleeves up, the bunny quickly ran off. Epiales snorted at this. Of course Dream followed, needing to get back at that ‘friend’ of his. A distant

"You cannot silence me!"

could be heard. of course this caused Epiales to burst out laughing at the chasing and overall ridiculousness of the situation, this woke Caspera though but he quickly made sure to quiet down and assure them that everything was alright and that they'd get their sweets soon.

[ Time passed, and it seemed as if that ‘miracle’ happened as Dream described. Someone had dropped their bag of fresh goods. Being the troublemakers they were Felix and Dream quickly took that opportunity to snatch it up… thankfully without notice. As the day began to turn to night, they all returned to the orphanage, sharing their goods. Of course Mr. Neriah had to question just where the various fruits and vegetables came from.. Hearing their explanation they had gotten a slight scolding; but were forgiven slightly due to their kindness amongst the younger souls. Everyone had a nice time, eating the dinner provided and then sharing stories.. Dream’s being the most adventurous, telling of different versions of himself saving the world and sometimes even other versions of himself! Soon after Mr. Neriah ushered the children to the beds, seeing how late it was. Dream and their brother of course snuck out at the peak of midnight, but made sure to give their goodbyes to the ones who were awake still… before they fully had left Epiales left some candy underneath Caspera's pillow, the sweets that they promised to them. The brothers ventured through the silent yet dimly lit village, making it back to the farm house where they had slept before, making themselves at home... at least temporarily. ]

“Ariadne?...”

It took a moment, Dream didn’t realize his brother was talking to him… after all he always went by ‘Dream’ and the other always went by ‘Nightmare’. He brought their hand up to their face- swinging it around to get their attention

“huh- yeah what?”

Epiales hesitated, continuing with

“I’m sorry-”

with a quick response

“For what?-”

the twin spoke up- it quickly turned into a few mutters-

“I’m sorry for not believing you earlier-”

Dream turned over on the hay, putting his hand up to his non-existent ears

“hum- didn’t quite catch that Epi-”

Their brother said aloud

“hmph- keep going like that and I might have to take it back!”

Of course, they were only joking around with each other… having fun.

“Alright alright- I accept your apology.”

Dream then laid down, trying to get into a more comfy position.

“So tomorrow… what do you think about it?”

Epiales spoke up

“The festival?”

a yes was given back

“Well… we might have a nicer life with the Guardians around, they’d whip the villagers into shape- get us all places to call home!”

Dream thought about it then responded

“You really think so?...”

and their brother talked back with a

“I know so… they’re supposed to keep the things in balance, there’s a lot of us who were dealt a bad hand… they’ll make things right.”

Dream looked to the ceiling, his hands resting on his chest. He closed his sockets for a second..

“You’re right, they’ll make things right…”

As Dream talked, Epiales seemed to drift to sleep… as Dream kept looking at the ceiling, their hand then reached to it, he stared at it…

“I’ll make sure of it.”

That sentence ended off with him clenching his fist. The day of the Festival was approaching, Dream didn’t exactly want that day to arrive but his eyes began to shut on their own. The next day was soon arriving, and so was the beginning of it all.

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serafilms · 6 months

Text

song 15! 10:36 (beabadoobee) + dan heng (spotify wrapped event)

i know you thought it was just us, i didn’t think you’d fall in love, you’re just a warm body to hold at night when i’m feeling all alone

Dan Heng knows you often have trouble sleeping.

You aren’t like March 7th, who has probably the most normal sleeping habits, or the Trailblazer, who is a little paranoid in a new environment but can conk out in two seconds flat, and you certainly aren’t like Dan Heng, who foregoes sleep frequently by choice. You like to sleep, but you just can’t do it well.

Your first night on the Express, he heard a clatter coming from the hallway and went out to find you rummaging through the storage closet looking for an extra pillow.

He frowned. “Is yours too flat?”

Your face flushed a little, and he had the fleeting thought that you looked pretty like that.

“No, I’ve just always had some trouble sleeping comfortably, but uh…. it gets a little bit better when I’m—“ you paused and gave an awkward little cough. “—hugging something.”

Dan Heng didn’t really know what to say, so he went back into the Archives and brought out his own pillow. At your protests towards accepting it, he simply replied that he wasn’t going to sleep that night. “We stop at Belobog tomorrow. I’ll get a new one there.”

Then, as he was walking back to his room, he turned his head back and cleared his throat. “Ah, goodnight.”

As he glanced at his reflection in the data bank, he noted that his cheeks were a little pinker than usual.

It’s exactly because you have trouble sleeping that he’s stuck in this predicament: lying in your bed as stiff as a board with your sleeping body clinging to him.

Earlier today, he sat beside you on a high speed airship on some obscure planet, and you held onto his arm to keep from being tossed around. He felt something hit his shoulder a few minutes later and found you fast asleep. He turned red, scowled at March when she took a photo and upon your mortified apologies when waking up had given you an offer.

“It was the best sleep I’ve had in ages,” you told him sheepishly.

Dan Heng is a logical, coolheaded man. So there was really no excuse for when he blurted out, “I can sleep in your bed tonight if it helps.”

Now, his heart is beating a mile a minute and he swears the heat from his face has raised the room temperature by about five degrees Celsius.

And as he lies there, watching your peaceful face, he curses himself because he knows that he would put himself through this a million times just so you could be like this.

This thought comes paired with a horrible realisation. You need him in order to sleep, but he needs you in order to live. He needs you more than you need him, and he isn’t sure how he feels about having that weakness.

Dan Heng breathes in and tries to calm his beating heart. He can figure this out in the morning. Right now, it’s just us.

He relaxes his muscles and allows himself to feel your warmth. He closes his eyes and holds you as he drifts off to sleep.

#dan heng x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr imagines #hsr imagine #honkai star rail #dan heng #honkai x reader #written works !#2023 spotify wrapped event !

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ihavethedreamies · 3 months

Text

Pool Boy (3) | Soobin

Choi Soobin - TXT

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.4k >_>

Pairing: Soobin x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Porn with very little Plot

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Small Age Difference (Unspecified, he calls her Noona), Pet Names (Sweet, Noona, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! and M! Receiving), Deepthroating/Face-Fucking, Spanking, Big Dick! Soobin, Cockbulge (slightly), Semi-Public Sex (at work but no one else is there), Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! She's on the pill)

Summary: Soobin finds you cleaning the bathroom after everyone leaves the pool at night then utterly destroys you in the best way possible.

Author's Note: This originally was going to be part of a really long series with a lot of plot, but it was taking too long and I was putting too much plot, more than I had initially planned. Because of that, I cut nearly all plot out and it's still four-thousands words of just fucking so…

Also…this was a dream I had…This whole series has been somewhat, but this is the only part that is straight from the dream, the others I got more specific because I don't remember the details as well as this.

Disclaimer: I do have the whole cock-bulge thing in this. I understand this could be a bit offensive to some who are on the heavier side (I am in that group as well). I also have the reader being pretty short even though I am 5'7". The reason being is I have a size difference kink/fetish, mostly because I am not small, and so I put it into a lot of my stories. Sorry if this doesn't align with your body type, but I also imagine a character in my place for these, so I don't sometimes take into account what others do.

None of the parts are reliant on the others, there is just a version for each boy.

-> Yeonjun <-

-> Taehyun <-

-> Hueningkai <-

-> Beomgyu <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"Hey, why don't you come hang out with us?" A girl came up to Soobin where he sat at the bar. She placed her hand on his shoulder, and you noticed he stiffened, and you watched closely what she did next.

"No, sorry, I'm working." He tried to shrug her hand off, but she just wrapped both around his bicep instead.

"You don't have to drink~" You glared at where she was holding him. You had no right really to be jealous, you two were just friends who flirted…a lot.

"I would really rather not." He was being polite, but you could see he was uncomfortable.

"Please?" She cooed, batting her eyelashes and you rolled your eyes. She caught it and scoffed.

"You should get that cough checked out." You shot at her, and Soobin turned his head to cover his smirk. She sneered harder and you could tell she thought she was prettier than you just because her tits were nearly popping out of her bikini top, and she had her hair dyed blonde.

"What, you aren't his girlfriend." The girl mocked, like she would know that anyway.

"Why do you think that?"

"One of you would have said something."

"Well, unfortunately for you, tonight I get to get railed by him and you don't." you whispered to her, and she huffed in disbelief, offended.

"Oh yeah, you really think I believe that?" You weren't sure if Soobin had heard your comment to her or not.

"She's not my girlfriend, but that's just for now." Soobin gave you a look, much more fire there than you had seen in his eyes before. This tipped her over the edge, and she stormed away. You were left to yourselves that time and you both chuckled.

"I get to rail you, huh?" His voice was confident, and his stare was sharp, it made your cunt pulse.

"Oh, I uh…" You gave him a coquettish look.

"If I get permission." He smirked and you huffed.

You continued to run the drink bar and Soobin had come around to help at the snack bar and so you weren't able to continue flirting much. As it was getting to be time for people to leave, you heard a loud engine coming and saw a bus come to pick up the group renting the pool that night.

"Did anyone throw up?" you asked a girl as she slumped into a chair at the bar.

"No, thank the Lord. Do we have to clean?"

"Not really. I'll check stuff over, but the professional cleaners come every Sunday, so they can do it." you told her, and she sighed in relief. The rest of the workers did some basic cleanup, and you went to check the restrooms. They were surprisingly clean, and you were told the boys’ was clean as well. That was even more shocking, but you were grateful. The only thing you had noticed was in one of the private solo bathrooms, there was some blood in the sink. Now that you saw it you remembered seeing a girl had gotten a nosebleed, so you assumed that was the cause. Heading back into the shelter, you went to the back room to get some cleaner and waved as most of the employees left for the night. As you were cleaning, you left the door propped open and you heard someone in the distance.

"I think she is cleaning in one of the bathrooms!" They answered another's question and then you heard then louder as they passed the door.

"She's in this one!" A guy shouted and then you heard the gate open and close as he left. You assumed he was talking to Soobin since he was the last one to leave. Not paying too much attention as you scrubbed and disinfected, the door slid all the way open and you heard the wooden door stop scramble across the tiled floor, the door then thumping shut. Out of your periphery you saw Soobin come up behind you in the mirror. You were curious what he was going to do. You slowed your task down to give him more time and you glanced up, eyes meeting through the reflection.

"What can I do?" he asked, and you knew he wasn't trying to help clean.

"How about whatever you want, and I'll stop you if I don't agree?" You suggested turning the faucet on so you could rinse out the magic sponge you were using. Soobin huffed in amusement, "Hope you can keep up. I don't get tired easily…" and you furrowed your brow when he slinked out of sight behind you.

You caught yourself on the counter in shock when you felt his big hands on your hips, his thumbs hooking into your belt loops.

"S-Soobin?"

"This okay?"

"Y-yes." You weren’t sure what he was planning but you had an idea. Since your shorts were so tight and it was so hot, you had foregone any underwear that day.

"You smell good, noona." He muttered and you yelped when he buried his face into your denim covered cunt. You sighed when his tongue ran over the fabric and you were sure that despite the thick material, you were probably soaking through it. Then, something hit you. Yes you had showered after, but…

"S-Soobin, I uh…" You heard him shuffle on the floor and he kissed your lower back above the hem of your shorts, your top had risen up as you leaned forward.

"Wearing panties?" He guessed; his tone amused.

"No…just shorts. It's because it's hot and they're tight-!"

"They're coming off." he announced and reached around to unbutton your jeans, his nose burying back into your cunt. You whimpered as he removed your shorts, and he sat back so he could pull them off your legs and you slipped your sandals off as well.

"So wet, sweet girl." Soobin cooed, his thumb stroking through your folds.

"Soobin~" You keened, your fingers trying to dig into the hard countertop. You heard him chuckle and his other thumb came up as well and he spread your pussy open. Your face heated, embarrassed to be stared at like that. Your hips bumped into the counter hard when you jolted forward, his tongue had flicked at your clit. Soobin groaned and licked up from your still swollen clit to your quivering entrance and went to town. His tongue was long like the rest of him, and it went way farther into your cunt that you thought it would. You whined; his pace didn't allow you a second of reprieve.

"Ah!" You yelped, slamming your hand over your mouth when the noise echoed around the restroom. You knew that no one else was there, but it was still loud. His arms had wrapped around your thighs, holding your soaking cunt to his face as he drank from you. Grateful for his arms, your legs weakened and quivered from his actions. Your moans increased in pitch as your orgasm got closer and you fell over the edge as he filled you with his long finger and sucked hard on your clit.

"Fuck~!" You moaned long and high as you came, and he sucked up every drop that fell from your cunt. When your walls had stopped clenching his finger, he finally pulled away and you slumped onto your arms on the counter, gasping for breath. You watched him in the mirror as he stood, licking your juices from his fingers like it was ice cream that had dripped onto his hand.

"You are so fucking delicious." He murmured low and you gaped at him over your shoulder. As you recovered, you watched with rapt attention as he removed his gray striped t-shirt and let it fall to the floor. He was beautiful. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs. When you got to his red trunks, you saw the tent his hard on was setting and you nearly choked. He was hung like a horse, his friends were right, and you still hadn't seen his dick out yet. Time slowed down, and your mouth watered as you watched him finally remove his last garment.

"Oh, my, god." You moaned and he huffed, a smug look on his face.

"Wanna taste?" he asked, and you nodded aggressively. He tilted his head, and you scrambled off the counter and onto your knees in front of him. Soobin thought you looked like a puppy begging for a treat.

"Well, come here then." He stroked his big hand over his big cock, and you scooched forward on your knees over the cool tile. With a whine, you licked the drop of precum from his tip and you whimpered, taking the head in your mouth. He sighed at the feeling and your jaw hurt from the stretch, but GAWD was it worth it. As you took him in deeper, he wasn't even halfway in your mouth when he hit the back of your mouth. Swallowing a few times, you took him deeper, and his rumbling groan echoed off the tile walls. After his whole cock was buried in your throat, you gagged a few times despite your practiced control. He was going to split you in half. Beginning to move your head, you wrapped your hand around the base so you could stroke over the part of him your mouth couldn't hold. Every so often, you would swallow and let him cut your air off, your nose hitting his pelvis. The feeling of your breathing being restricted made your head swim for several reasons and as you sucked and licked over him, drool splattered on the floor and down your face. You looked like an absolute mess, and it was driving him nuts. In your head you marveled at the fact that he was lasting so long. If his stamina was already to this extent, you were in for a long night. It was to the point that your arm was getting tired from holding it up and your neck hurt too. You shot him a look, and he grunted at that, and you felt his cock finally twitch.

"What is it, sweet girl? Want me to take over?" He stroked your hair and you nodded, his cock still sitting in your mouth.

"Okay, sweet." He straightened up from where he was leaning back into the wall, and you let your arm fall so you could steady yourself on the floor. Your pussy clenched around nothing, and his long fingers dug into your hair at the top of your braid.

"Hit my leg if you need me to stop. I'll go deep every five thrusts, 'kay?" He informed you and you nodded. Was he planning this, thinking over how to do it? Fuck…

Preparing, you inhaled deeply through your nose, and he snapped his hips. The fat head hitting the back your mouth made you gag, but your eyes rolled back as you closed them, reveling in the sensation. True to his word, he filled your throat every five thrusts then kept going. Your breathing was harsh, not only trying to take in enough air, but also getting extremely turned on. Your bare cunt was sliding over the puddle you were leaving on the tile, the cold friction was getting you close.

"Fuck, (Y/N), I'm gonna cum," He whined, and you moaned in response, and he made a choking sound.

"Shit." He gasped, throwing his head back and he pressed on your head, so he was all the way in your mouth and came. You swallowed, gagging slightly, it felt like his cock was a hose with how much hot, sticky cum he was pumping down your throat. Tears slipped down your cheeks, your vision blurring from lack of air, but your pussy was throbbing. Waves of pleasure crashed through you as you came all over the floor. Finally, as you were getting lightheaded, he finally let your head go and pulled out, and you sucked in air harshly, a trail of drool and cum leaking down your face and onto your shirt. You thought at least his cock would have softened some, but no, he was still standing proud before you, the same mix on your face dripping off his cock. You swallowed one more time to get the rest down and he panted as you took your shirt off, then your bra, finally fully naked.

"You'll have to clean the floor," He smirked, nodding at the puddle you left as you stood up. You wobbled some and he reached forward to steady you and he led you closer to him and he smiled down at you.

"You did so good, sweet girl." He nuzzled the top of your head, and you took the chance to run your fingers over his bare torso. Soobin's cock pressed against your stomach and you both moaned softly as you peered up at him with wide eyes.

"Where you wanna fuck me, Binnie?" Your voice wavered, higher than normal and with a slight whine to it. He wondered how far gone you were, how cock drunk, and how much farther you would go. He didn't particularly want to fuck you in the bathroom, he wasn't sure where to do so though. The thought of doing it on one of the lounge chairs around the pool sounded nice, but risky. The fence surrounding the pool was tall but more or less open for everyone to see, even at the late hour. There was the couch in the back office, but that would be hard to clean…Then he got an idea.

"Come with me." He grabbed your hand to lead you, and he peered around the doorway of the bathroom to make sure no one would see as you passed the entrance gate. You both dashed into the shelter, and he told you to stand and wait while he grabbed some towels from the shelves. He laid five of them down over each other to make a much softer surface and it would make cleaning up easier as well.

"Over here, sweet." He motioned you over and he softly pulled you down to him and he sat on the towels letting you sit on his lap, straddling him. Soobin's cock nestled against your ass, your hands on his shoulders, and you were eye level with him like this. He placed a quick kiss on your lips, and you realized he hadn't kissed you yet. Whining, you brought his lips back to yours and it instantly got deeper as your tongues met. Pulling back shortly for air, you both dipped back in, and his hands went to your hips to maneuver you. He had you prop yourself up higher, the head of his cock nestled into your dripping folds.

"Ready?" He asked and you nodded, your kisses moving from his mouth to his jaw and down his neck. He pressed on your waist, and you started to sink down on him, and you gasped. He sure was going to split you in half. You threw your head back at the sensation, despite cumming twice and dripping like a faucet, the stretch burned.

"Breathe." He coached you, helping you take more even breaths as he filled you. Finally, his cock bumped your cervix, but there was still nearly an inch of him left. You wanted him in you completely, feel his groin touch your clit.

"M-more." You keened and he grunted, wrapping his arms around you to hold you in place. Your breath hitched each time he pulled out slightly, each thrust getting him deeper just a bit more till he was completely inside. You quivered, your cunt around his dick and your body in his arms. You yelped, clenching him when his hand went to and pressed on your lower stomach. He smirked and you looked down at yourself to see a faint rounded outline under your belly button.

"You took me so well, sweet girl." He whispered in your ear, and you shivered again, his tongue running up the side of your throat and to your ear lobe where he sucked on your earring. In that position, you really didn't have the strength to move, the pleasure too intense for your mind to function too.

"I'll help you, sweet." He assured you and you whimpered when he laid down, so his back was on the towels. He had you place your hands on his knees bent up behind you for leverage, then he shuffled some and gave you a look. You nodded and his hips jumped, thrusting him even deeper and you gasped. He watched in wonder as your head was thrown back, hair dangling down your back, chest heaving. Using his hips and arms to move you, he fucked up into you hard and you felt your orgasm already approaching. If you thought his tongue had wrecked you, his cock was worse. He wasn't rough, but his cock was just that big. What the hell had he been fed? Next time you would have to give Soobin his own day, you were already kind of tired from working, now Soobin was blowing your back out on the floor. It got to the point where you were struggling to keep your volume controlled. Your whines and moans were getting louder, too loud. His hips stopped and you nearly squealed, but he rolled you both over, so he was on top, your legs hitched up over his hips. Leaning forward over you, so tall his collarbone was at your nose, he had grabbed a smaller towel that had fallen when he grabbed the bigger one. Rolling it up quick, he gave short thrusts, and had you open your mouth and he put the towel in to keep you quiet.

"Next time, we need to go somewhere where you can scream, but not here." He muttered and you whined around the terrycloth, but you agreed. You never used to have trouble keeping quiet during sex, but your mind was gone, your self-control gone. After your mouth was handled, his hands pressed on your thighs to open your legs spread eagle, then he snapped his hips hard, and you came again. Your cunt clenched him so tight, he had to slow down to maintain his rhythm, helping you ride it out. Your poor clit was burning from overstimulation, your gummy walls fluttering still around him. Soobin groaned, adjusting your legs again to get you into a mating press. His big hands surrounded your lower thighs, and you were grateful for your flexibility as he easily forced your knees to your ears. He watched your head flop to the side, your eyes unfocused, mouth clenched on the towel, drool soaking in, tears flowing over your cheeks and sweat down your brow. You were ruined and he reveled in it. Yes, you had been railed before, but they hadn't fucked you stupid, not like he was. There were no thoughts behind your eyes, and you couldn't even form your mouth to say his name, let alone anything else.

"You like my cock, huh?" You nodded in response.

"Want me to fill you back up? Pump you full?" You let out a long pitchy moan.

"You’re such a little slut for me, sweet. Just for me? Only for me…" He groaned low as your pussy clenched him even tighter. His fingers buried into the flesh of your thighs, and you were worried he would leave bruises. Oh well, you owned a pair of capris.

"Want it, yeah?" Soobin grunted, his thrusts growing even harsher, but less consistent. If he came inside of you as much as he did down your throat…

"Fuck!" He grunted and your stomach got hot, the force of his cum coating your insides knocked you over the edge once again. The towel was a Godsend because you might have bitten your tongue otherwise, your head thrown back, nails digging into the towels.

"Fuck, sweet girl~" He whined, still filling you, drops of white slipping down your ass and onto the towel. You slumped, boneless, the towel falling out of your mouth and rolling away till it lay flat. As your mind's haziness started to fade, you cunt fluttered…he was still half hard.

"What the fuck?" You gasped to yourself, trying to process the reality of the situation. You blinked, trying to find your way back to the current realm of existence, he let your legs down so they could rest at his sides.

"Noona? You too tired?" His voice was tinted with worry, but he really, really hoped you said no. You shook your head in the negative and he sighed.

"Let me turn over." Your voice was scratchy, but he acquiesced, pulling out. When he did, globs of cum dripped out of you, the sensation was weird. To him, the sight was extremely arousing, and his cock was at full mast again. You rolled over onto your stomach, letting your ass prop up into the air. Soobin exhaled harshly and his giant cock pressed to your pussy once again and he slipped in easily. You grabbed the small towel from your side and bit down on it to quiet your own noises, his pace immediately was relentless. Soobin pulled his cock nearly all the way out, only his head being swallowed by your soaking folds before he buried deep again. Even though he was in your cunt and not your throat, each thrust made you feel like you couldn't breathe and what looked like sparkles dotted your vision.

"Ah, fuck!" You spat the towel out when he landed his hand on your ass, the skin erupting like fire. There was a bright red spot on your cheek in the shape of his hand. The way you pulsed around him at this made him smirk, and he changed his pace to deep but hard thrusts, battering your cervix. His other hand smacked the other side, and you shoved the towel back in your mouth so you could scream. How the fuck were you going to get home? You were probably going to have to call your roommate.

"Oh, you’re so good for me, sweet." He praised and this made you sob with pleasure.

"S-S-Soobin!" You managed to get his name out and he reveled in the broken syllables leaving your drool covered lips. Another spank landed on your ass, in a different spot this time, leaving another red welt in its wake. The sound echoed through the shelter and your skin burned after a good six or seven swats.

"Okay, (Y/N), noona, I'm going to come again, 'kay? On your back…" He groaned and with a last spank, you came, and he took the chance to pull out. After a few strokes, his hot cum splashed over the red skin on your ass, so hot it felt scalding. Your eyes closed, tears flowing down and over your nose to land on the towel under your face. Finally, finally, his cock was softening, still covered in a mix of your essences. You were a mess and he wanted you no other way. While Taehyun might have had a more dominating personality, Soobin was more devious it seemed. He loved you beneath him, utterly spent. You slipped in and out of consciousness as you heard him moving around the shelter. When he came back to you and lifted you up to kneeling, you whimpered, and he shushed you.

"It’s okay, noona, let’s get cleaned up." He held you like a princess, kissing your forehead. He was still just as naked, and he entered the back office you had left open and went into the bathroom there. He let you down softly, still holding you upright as he turned the shower on. He only made it warm, you both needed to cool down and he helped you rinse his seed off your skin. He cooed at the red marks as you leaned against the cold tile, still panting. You barely registered as he got you out of the shower and even dressed and you laid down on the couch in the office as he brought you your bag and phone. There was only one notification on your phone, and he saw the time was nearly 11 pm. He winced, grabbing his own phone, and sending the guys a quick message as you wearily looked at your own.

"You good, fam?" Your roommate had messaged you and you shot her a quick positive and debated whether to have her come get you or not. Shifting a bit to try and sit up, your entire body protested and so you caved and called her.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes…I need you to come pick me up." You mumbled and you heard some shuffling on the other line.

"Are. You. Okay?"

"YES. I just…can't walk…or sit." You told her and she laughed so hard you had to pull your phone away from your ear.

"Okay, shit, that's great. I'll get an Uber and drive your car back." She hung up and your arm flopped back down, your cell face down on your stomach.

"Sorry." Soobin mumbled next to you, sitting on the floor next to the couch.

"Don't. That was…" You sighed and he laughed.

"You warned me of your stamina but that was insane." You huffed and he laughed again. You began to drift off, and he reached up, brushing some stray hairs from your face and stroking your still red cheek with the back of his finger.

"(Y/N)!" A voice he didn't recognize called out and he went to open the gate for your roommate and let her into the shelter. She barely glanced at him till she saw you lying on the couch, then turned to him. She balked, eyes wide and looked him up and down.

"Shit…" She swore and then went to you and shook you.

"You need help out to the car?" she asked, and you grunted a yes. Your roommate turned to Soobin, and he went to you. You lifted your arms up like a child and he chuckled, lifting you into his arms once again and followed your roommate out to the car. She grabbed your bag and his and made sure the lights were turned off and locked as you left. She had worked there with you in the past and so knew what to do. You rested your head on his shoulder as he carried you across the parking lot and helped you sit in the passenger seat. You winced as your sore skin touched the seat and he apologized. He kissed your forehead, which made you whimper, and he shut the door. Your roommate waved to him, and she pulled out before he started to walk back to campus.

"Holy crap." She muttered and you let out a tired laugh.

"Yes."

-> Yeonjun <-

-> Taehyun <-

-> Hueningkai <-

-> Beomgyu <-

Master-Master List

TXT Master List

#ihavethedreamies #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop x reader #tomorrow by together #tomorrow x together #txt #txt fanfic #txt x reader #txt smut #txt soobin #choi soobin #soobin x reader #soobin fanfic #soobin smut

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heaven-s-black-box · 4 months

Text

Homecoming- Dan Heng x boyfriend!Reader

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Recovery date: January 18th, 2024

Description: henlo! can i ask a clingy and needy dan heng with his boyfriend who has been gone for a week? and pls make it smut, i want to wreck this dragon boy so bad 😩😩😩

Includes- slight plot, bottom Dan Heng, Imbibitor Lunae Dan Heng, blow job, anal

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contribution. This was not Beta read, but honestly i feel like it's one of my better smuts.

Word count: 2 138

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“Can I get up?”

Dan Heng looked up from the tablet in his hands and back at his boyfriend. He’s currently curled up in Y/n’s lap, head leaned back against his shoulder, sorting through some of the archives. Y/n’s arms are wrapped snuggly around Dan Heng’s waist, and his head is leaned against his– careful to avoid the horns sprouting from the top of his head.

“But we’re organizing the archives.”

Y/n sighed. He pulled Dan Heng closer to his chest and dropped his face into the crook of the Vidyadhara’s neck.

Dan Heng shifted around, straightening up and rolling his neck. A strange yelp-like sound came from behind him, and he turned around with a raised brow.

“Organizing the archives was not what I was expecting when I said we could do whatever you want.”

A faint pink tinted the tips of Dan Heng’s ears.

“And what were you expecting?”

“Literally anything but this,” Y/n huffed in exasperation, removing his arms from around Dan Heng and leaning back.

Dan Heng laughed. He wasn’t quite expecting that answer.

“Honestly I was expecting you to jump my bones as soon as I stepped in here.”

Dan Heng stopped laughing suddenly, causing him to choke on his own spit and descend into a small coughing fit. Y/n’s eyes widened as he was caught off guard, and he sat back up to pat his boyfriend’s back soothingly. The red that had previously adorned the tips Vidyadhara’s ears had returned much more vividly and spread to his face.

Y/n chuckled and leaned into Dan Heng’s ear, the hand on his back found the window of exposed skin and began to trail up and down. Dan Heng shuddered as Y/n’s breath brushed the shell of his ear and his hand trailed his spine.

“Must’ve been hard for you this last week.”

With his brain turned to mush, all Dan Heng could do was nod slowly.

“Is that why you’ve been squirming against me? Waiting for me to break, thinking of all the things I’ll do to apologize?”

“Yes,” Dang Heng managed to whisper breathlessly.

The hand that wasn’t on his back lifted his chin so that he was looking Y/n in the eyes finally. Now that Y/n thinks about it, Dan Heng had been avoiding direct eye contact since he got back a few hours ago. A smug smirk tugged at Y/n’s lips before he quickly moved in to capture Dan Heng’s lips in a kiss.

As soon as their lips met Dan Heng’s lips parted in a muffled moan and his hands gripped at Y/n’s shirt. His nails scratched gently at the exposed skin of Y/n’s collar, making the man moan. Y/n deftly undid the tie of Dan Heng’s top, the knot was loose already like it hadn't been tied properly. The thought made Y/n laugh against Dan Heng’s lips, much to his annoyance. In retaliation, the vidyadhara bit his lip.

“Gentle,” Y/n cooed as he pulled away.

They were both panting, but Dan Heng still leaned back in without waiting. He missed Y/n though as the man ducked down, gently nudging his chin up with the top of his head, and began trailing kisses down from his jaw to his collar. Dan Heng’s head fell back on instinct.

Y/n took the slight shift in his center of gravity to lower him onto his back.

Dan Heng’s hands slid around to Y/n’s back, pulling at the shirt so it rose up and brought the hem closer to him. Before he could get his hands on it, however, Y/n sat up. He turned towards Dan Heng and moved his legs so that he was sitting in between them before grabbing the hem of his shirt that had slid back down and pulled it off. Then he reached out and opened up Dan Heng’s shirt so that it lay spread out under him.

One of the tails of his top was scrunched up half under him while the other was pinned completely underneath him, and his hair was splayed out beneath that. Y/n leaned back to admire the heavy flush of Dan Heng’s face and the complete mess of his clothes. While on his haunches, Y/n completely stripped Dan heng’s lower half so that his dick was free.

“Have I mentioned how sorry I am for leaving you?” Y/n asked teasingly as he lay down between Dan Heng’s legs.

The vidyahdara’s breath hitched as he mumbled, “Maybe once or twice.”

“Well,” Y/n licked a strip up from the base of Dan Heng’s dick to the tip, earning a moan as he gripped at the sheets of his bed, “that’s not nearly enough, now is it?”

Y/n didn’t wait for an answer, the question was rhetoric anyways, before he slowly took Dan Heng’s dick in his mouth. A loud moan echoed through the archive and Dan Heng’s claws broke through the sheets while one of his legs wrapped around Y/n’s body. Y/n gripped at his boyfriend's hips as they bucked up, making him gag and pull back with a glare.

“Hey,” Y/n scolded, landing a gentle smack to Dan Heng’s hip which made him buck up again, “I’m trying to apologize here and you’re trying to kill me.”

“Sorry, please, continue.”

With a smile, Y/n leaned down again and quickly sunk down to the base. Dan Heng moaned, toes curling from pleasure, but when he went to buck up this time Y/n pinned his hips down with his arm. He looked up at Dan Heng through his lashes, catching his eye, and then ran his tongue along the shaft before starting to slowly move up and down– allowing his tongue to trail the underside as he went.

The slow movement was torture for Dan Heng who was quickly shredding his bed as he struggled to squirm against the weight over his waist. Everytime he went to buck against Y/n unconsciously, the man would press down further on him which only made it worse. His gasp and moans filled the room, accompanied by the occasional broken plea for more.

More what? He wasn’t sure, his mind was too hazy to actually form a coherent thought, but more sounded like what he wanted.

And more, he got when Y/n pulled off him– making him whine– and grabbing the lube from the back of the shelf that had become something of a bedside table. He poured a generous amount onto his fingers, until they were practically dripping, which only worked Dan Heng up more, and then took Dan Heng back in his mouth. This time his non-dominant arm held down his boyfriends waist as he slowly ran his fingers around Dan Heng’s butt hole before pushing one in.

With his non-dominant arm, Y/n didn’t have the strength to hold Dan Heng down completely but he didn’t mind. He was expecting it this time, and so he didn’t pull back when he gagged. Dan Heng’s grip moved from the shredded sheets to the arm Y/n had laid across him, the pads of his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise as he used the last bit of clear thought he had to avoid clawing the man. The leg up on Y/n’s back twitched.

A sudden gasp came from Dan Heng, followed by what sounded like words but they were too slurred and breathless to be sure. His hips twitched, bucking up and squirming away. Trying to grind down on his fingers and escape the oral stimulation while every shock of pleasure had him chasing more. Y/n slowly added a second finger, stretching Dan Heng out as he slowly spread them. That was what broke him.

Dan Heng’s claws dug into Y/n’s arm, ten even puncture marks drawing blood and creating scratches as his back arched off the floor and he came with a long moan. It trailed off into whimpers as Y/n swallowed his release and pulled back again with a pop, chin covered in drool and stray dribbles of cum that he tried to lick up, and his finger kept stretching him out.

With no risk of choking, Y/n let Dan Heng squirm around as much as he wanted. He whipped his chin off with his previously discarded shirt and leaned over Dan Heng to pepper his face with kisses.

“Please,” Dan Heng gasped, eyes going glassy with tears.

“Please, what?”

“I need you to fuck me.”

“Whatever you want, handsome.”

A quick peck to his lips and Y/n sat back to take his pants and underwear off. Dan Heng’s eyes seemed to glaze over even more at the sight of Y/n’s dick, and his previously softening dick was quick to demonstrate his excitement.

The lube was opened once more, but before Y/n could pour any out Dan Heng had sat up and taken it from him. The vidyadhara poured some into his hand before wrapping it around his boyfriend’s dick and watching the man shudder. Watching Dan Heng come apart early had been a test of strength, but this was like telling him… well telling him not to cum. He grabbed Dan Heng’s wrist just as the man started picking up speed.

“Lie back down.”

Hesitantly, Dan Heng did as he was told and Y/n lifted one of his legs up onto his shoulder as he lined himself up. He leaned down to kiss Dan Heng as he slowly entered him, muffling the drawn out moans. Dan Heng, meanwhile, grasped helplessly at the back of Y/n’s neck as the lingering sensitivity from his first orgasm drove him crazy. His dick was pressed between the two of them, rubbing against their abdomens every time Dan Heng twitched or Y/n sunk in further.

“Gonna move,” Y/n whispered against his lips before slowly pulling out and pushing back in.

Dan Heng clenched around him, forcing him to stop every so often so that he didn’t hurt him. After a few slow thrusts, Dan Heng relaxed enough that Y/n could move at a consistent pace. The room filled with the wet sound of skin against skin, panting, and Dan Heng’s moans and whimpers.

Y/n laughed breathlessly as the vidyadhara began to mumble about how it was too much, his claws raking against Y/n’s back as he struggled to ground himself.

Underneath the hand he had on Dan Heng’s thigh, Y/n could feel the muscles tighten as the man grew closer to another release. He shifted a bit to adjust his grip, and when he thrust back in Dan Heng’s entire body twitched as he let out a particularly loud moan. So he hit the same spot again, and again, and again until tears began to drip from Dan Heng’s eyes.

His incoherent babbling left Y/n guessing at what he wanted, so he pulled back so that he wasn’t hanging over Dan Heng anymore and wrapped a hand around his dick. He brushed his thumb over the tip, more focused on keeping the rhythm of his thrusts than jacking his boyfriend off, and then gave two leisurely pumps before Dan Heng came all over his hand and their abdomens.

“Cu-Cumming,” he moaned out just a second too late as he shuddered and tensed.

Y/n laughed, lowering his leg from his shoulder and gripping his hips before chasing his own release. Having shifted he was now right next to the spot that had his boyfriend screaming, leaving Dan Heng to squirm at the overstimulation that bordered on too much.

“Think you have one more?” Y/n teased as Dan Heng’s dick seemed to harden again.

“I- No, I don’t- know,” Dan Heng gasped, trying to catch his breath through the overstimulation.

“Well, I guess we’re about to find out,” Y/n hummed as he adjusted to hit the same spot as earlier.

Dan Heng’s legs wrapped around his waist as choked moans and teary whimpers escaped his lips. It was all too much, and he barely registered Y/n’s warning that he was about to cum. The sudden warm feeling of being filled had him cumming again as Y/n’s thrusts slowed.

When his head finally cleared, Y/n had pulled out and was resting their foreheads together as he caught his breath.

“Fuck,” Y/n sighed. “Would you please get a proper room, we could really use an on suite bathroom like March.”

Dan Heng laughed, hand running soothingly against all the scratch marks he’d left along his boyfriend’s back.

“Or I could just move into yours.”

Y/n’s eyes opened, looking into Dan Heng’s, and he smiled.

“That works too.

#locked entries #honkai star rail #hsr dan heng #dan heng #imbibitor lunae #dan heng x reader #imbibitor lunae x reader #x reader #male reader #dan heng smut #imbibitor lunae smut #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #smutshot #smut

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