!! gender neutral reader, completely sfw, fluff. tw ? none?? mentions of reader being sick on akito's part though, and mentions of reader wearing a bit of lipstick on toya's part. ( song recco )
akito was anxious. you haven't been replying to his texts, and you haven't been attending classes this whole week. he even tried asking your classmates, which was rare. but there was no change of outcome.
ena has been worrying because of his lack of sleep. giving him glances from the dinner table when they were eating together, she's been complaining that he wasn't eating and that the male was just staring at his food, but it'd be obvious to everyone that she's obviously worried, just didn't want to admit it.
the younger shinonome was now sitting on his bed, taking quick glances from his phone, to see if you've replied.
3:45 am. his phone lit up because of a notification.
he sighs in annoyance only to see that it was from toya, asking if he was okay.
maybe it was time to sleep, he thought. he's also tired of waiting for a response, even though it was a weekend tomorrow.
morning arrived, akito immediately checked his phone, only to see useless notifications. he rubbed his eyes and made his way to the living room, to see his older sister's head placed on the palm of her hand while sitting down beside the kitchen table.
the girls eyes lit up slightly upon seeing her brother, "hey, sit down and eat. i made you breakfast."
"you dumbass, i care about you, stop sleeping so late just for a reply. they wouldn't want you to be doing this just because your worried about them." he hated the fact that she was right.
akito ran his hands through his soft hair and fixed his position, "and you stayed up... all night... for them. oh... dude.. you're in love..." his eyes shot up, "what?"
"think about it."
as she said that, a reply finally came from his phone that was rested beside the plate.
"i'm sorry for making you worry. i'm fine."
!! TOYA AOYAGI ( "if you lose, i have to give you a kiss!" )
you were absolutely horrible at chess. you have annoyed your boyfriend into giving in to teaching you, but to no avail, you still sucked, placing small little bets like "if you win.. then i won't annoy you for a day!" or "if you win, i'll take care of myself today!"
today, you made a bet that made the male question almost every move.
"hm.. if you lose, i have to give you a kiss!" was that really a punishment though?
his lips were thin, while you were waiting for a response. he smiles softly, "okay."
it was already obvious to the both of you that you were going to lose, but oh.. how.. did you win this round?
the answers' obvious, is it not? you had toya aoyagi completely smitten for your love.
he turns his head to you- "i lost." he says, almost proudly, while smirking. you were smiling ear to ear, if he knew you'd be smiling like that, he would have already lost on purpose a few matches ago.
you stood up from your chair, and softly kissed him on his cheek, a very faint lipstick mark was left.
he let out a small scoff as you went back to your seat, until you realized.
"hey, did you do that on purpose?!"
!! RUI KAMISHIRO ( “I think they saw us..” “oh, so what?" )
a model student and a very questionable one, who knew that they'd be together? a weird pair, really.
"i can't believe you're ruining your record just to ditch with me." rui said, smirking. you roll your eyes, "says you. you practically forced me here." "you didn't technically try to refuse though."
his hand still holding your wrist whilst you both chill at the rooftop, "you can let go of my wrist, you know" he shakes his head, refusing. "aren't you worried someone might see us?"
"obviously."
and then suddenly, students by pair started coming by for lunch. "i think they saw us.." you sigh while the taller male scoffs, "oh, so what? let them be." you truly admire how carefree he was when it came to you.
"we could always just run back to the classroom."
"i guess." you scoffed, but nevertheless accepted it.
!! TSUKASA TENMA ( "you’re definitely in love, all you ever talk about is them.” “i’m not in love, they’re just always on the back of my mind- oh.” )
"are you sure you're not in love..? you've been rambling about them ever since.. well ever since you've called us here man." rui questioned, tilting his head, while nene was looking at the blonde haired male in absolute disappointment.
"or are you just in denial?" she deadpans, emu just there observing.
"you're definitely in love, all you ever talk about is them."
"i'm not in love, they're just always on the back of my mind- oh." and there, he finally realized.
"..maybe i am?" he winces, "you definitely are." emu finally chips in, "now, we need a plan on how to confess!"
"already!? i just realized! let my admire them for at least just a week as a crush!"
"look at the bright side, you aren't gonna be bitchless anymore if they like you back."
warning for underage drinking, but it's not extreme + unrealistic depiction of alcohol (getting drunk super easily)
"I think he's drunk."
An comments on Touya's current state, exhausted yet blissed out, silver irises zoning out and paying no heed to everything surrounding him.
"Probably." Akito agrees with her, blinking with confusion. Him and Kohane glance at each other, evidently concerned and soon frowning at An.
"You can't blame me— he's never tried alcohol before and asked for it." She retaliates with her arms crossed. "How was I supposed to predict this?"
Akito sighs at the ludicrosity of the dilemma.
"To be fair, you wouldn't really expect someone to get drunk that easily." Though you're defending An you can't deny that it was a stupid decision, this is exactly why Ken looked reluctant to leave the five of you at their place.
Touya finally speaks. "What? 'm not drunk."
Scoffing, Akito responds first. "Says the guy zoning out at his drink and gettin' flushed red."
"... the bubbles look pretty." Only proves Akito's statement.
"You're an idiot at times." Akito mumbles.
And for some reason Touya only bothers to acknowledge that. "But look!" He points the glass to his friend, almost spilling it, Akito reacts faster and pries it out of his hand.
"I'm sure they look very pretty, Touya." He grumbles under his breath, placing the glass out of his reach. Another glare is shot at An, who raises her hands in defeat.
"He wanted to try it!"
"None of us are over eighteen." Livid yet worried, Akito sighs. "Oi, what's the best lie for this situation. He can't go home like this."
"We could tell Ken that he fell asleep? And it's quite late already."
Silently, you thank the gods for Kohane's idea. "Ken's fine with us sleeping over without notice too. We'll be fine."
An shrugs, as if she weren't the cause of all of this. "It's legal when it's at home."
"With an adult." Touya still seemed dazed out, not heeding mind to the way both An and Akito were yelling. "Your dad wouldn't've let this happen."
"Kohane's basically an adult with her maturity?"
"Don't even try saying that. You let him drink while she was showering and while y/n and I went out to buy snacks."
As the two bicker, Kohane pinches your sleeve for your attention. "Should we stop them? Whether Aoyagi's okay or not is a priority."
In agreement you nod, accompanied by an exhausted sigh. "How about we bring Touya upstairs, to one of your guest rooms." Both An and Akito halt their arguing, intently listening to you. "He's probably just tipsy. He should be fine by the morning." Kohane nods, leaning down to eye level with Touya, who was slumped in his seat.
"Aoyagi, let's go." But he doesn't oblige, whining with soft incoherency instead. "Please?" Her plead is futile, as it goes completely ignored by Touya.
Akito steps forth. "I'll carry him." Toned arms reach for Touya's, the action only being reciprocated by a lazy slap.
"Mean."
He sighs for the nth time. "'m not mean, c'mon." It's futile though, Touya fights back, messily, his sloppy movements were enough to prevent Akito from being able to pick him up properly.
"I'll carry him." You volunteer, and thankfully Touya surrenders to you, relaxing as you haul him onto your back. "First guest room right?"
After nodding and beginning to clean up, An breathed out an apology and thank you, Akito gives up on scolding her, settling down on a seat next to Kohane.
Despite how tall he is, Touya was ridiculously light, allowing you to effortlessly carry him upstairs.
"You need to eat more..." And of course he doesn't respond. Soon you're carefully placing him in bed, searching for any signs of something wrong. You shield him from the cold with the blanket, watching him instinctively curl up into a ball.
"Are we alright now?" Everything seems to be fine, his face is still flushed red and he's basically unconscious, but he's not whining nor complaining. A lack of an answer tells to you to hurry up and leave, even if you already know he's unable to reply. "I'll go then. Good night Touya."
A tight grip on your wrist prevents you from leaving.
"What's wrong?"
"I need you here." He hiccups, now fully conscious.
"Why?"
"Because you're the best." He hiccups again.
"You're just saying that because you're drunk." You redirect his hand to himself, placing it by his side.
Pearly irises of silver stare at you, pleading for you to oblige his request. "No. It's because I like you."
You choke on your own spit at the declaration. "That's enough, just sleep." You've never encountered a drunk person, and it's unfortunate that Touya's the first because of an immature decision An made.
"Only if you'll stay."
Even when he turns eighteen, you note to yourself to never let him get drunk.
But it was refreshing to see Touya behave so childishly. For the time you've known him he's always been so adultlike, stoic and cold—juxtaposing the way An and Akito bicker, or Kohane's tendency to remain glued to a window whenever something piques her interest. The question has always plagued your thoughts, was it simply his personality or did his household not provide the luxury of being a child?
With a sigh you indulge in his request, sitting down on the bed. "You're kind of silly when you're drunk, you know?"
"'m not drunk! You're being like Akito."
"Like Akito?"
"Mean."
You remain silent, but you're stifling a laugh. It doesn't take long for you to give in, bursting out into laughter. "I promise I'm not mean. That's always going to be Akito's job."
"Then stop ignoring my feelings."
The first time it seemed like drunk non sense, drowsy and mindless. But the second time feels different, whether it be the genuine pout of his lips or the solemnity intertwined with his tone.
"It's not fairrr." Touya doesn't bother waiting for a response from you, rambling on while you listen carefully. "I like you so much but you're so far ahead. You're too pretty, how am I supposed to live without you? You're my safe place where I don't have to think about piano or dad. You're so good at sports, and smart, and speaking to people, you've even had alcohol before already."
Is that why he wanted to try some today...?
"You've had alcohol before too, dumbass." He only throws the blanket over his head, out of embarrassment.
"Do you like me too?"
The question repeats in your head, and the answer is obvious to you.
You arise from the bed, kneeling next to it where Touya was cowering underneath the blanket. "I do."
He peeps out of the covers, face wrapped in the doona, silver eyes wide with surprise. "Really?"
"Yes, but I'm not talking to you until you sleep properly, okay?"
Like an eager child, he falls for the bribery, closing his eyes and mumbling out a 'good night'. You reciprocate it, carefully tip toeing in order to let him sleep undisturbed— and on your way to deal with another problem, this time in the form of a certain musician who has a thing for drama.
"And then, you confessed! We got curious and listened through the door."
Touya averts his gaze, instead staring at the cup of black coffee warming his palms. Rose is chalked all over his cheeks as he listens to An recounting last night's events.
"By 'we' she means her." Akito grumbles while sipping from his hot chocolate. "I don't get why she's so obsessed. Congratulations though."
An throws an arm around you. "You should've seen the look on his face when Touya called him mean."
Akito opens his mouth to object, but Kohane speaks first.
"That must've been amazing though, if drinking gave you that much confidence to confess like that."
"Well it wasn't really confidence if I wasn't thinking at all, is it?" The conversation only permeates his cheeks into a darker pink.
"Did you like how alcohol tasted?" Legitimate curiosity is scrawled on her expression and traced onto her tone. "What's being drunk like?"
This time, Akito interrupts Touya. "Who knows? Wanna test it out? Maybe then you'll have the courage to confess to Shiraishi?" The comment leaves you and Touya shocked, eyes flitting between the three of them. An stares at Kohane, whom is already running away with her bag.
"Oi Kohane—come back!" With haste she pulls off her apron and sprints around the counter, tossing it god knows where. "Wait—"
Akito chuckles at the ordeal— the chaos he caused. "Oops. My bad."
(you both know that was damn intentional)
taglist (send an ask to be added) : @yuzurins, @pokkomi
It wasn’t easy finding a quiet spot in Kamikou, especially during lunch period.
You didn’t expect your usual place in the garden to be occupied, but there were two upperclassmen (and what looked like… A robot?) already there by the time you arrived. You immediately turned around and left before they could see you, their loud voices echoing from behind as you went searching for another spot.
Eventually, you managed to find a little area behind one of the buildings to settle in. There weren't any chairs or tables, but you sat on the ground anyway and leaned against the wall. You took a deep breath and sighed. Finding this went on longer than you thought it would – there were only about 15 minutes left before the next class started.
‘Just enough time to figure out this chorus.’ You think, opening the notebook you carried to where you had slipped in a pencil as a page marker. Tapping the pencil on the paper, you hum a few simple melodies out loud, occasionally scribbling notes on the pages. With any luck, you can make something coherent enough for your friend to use in the next song.
You’re so focused with what you're doing that you didn’t notice the window above your head sliding open, a surprised sound leaving you as you suddenly heard someone call out.
“Excuse me, is someone there?” You turned and looked up to see another student glancing around before finally noticing you. His two-toned hair immediately caught your attention, one side much lighter than the other. He looked kind of familiar – someone from your year maybe?
You cleared your throat as he continued to stare at you expectantly. “Um, hi?” You began, not really knowing what to say in this situation. His face remained passively blank, a small tilt of his head to the side the only thing showing his confusion. Honestly, you felt just about the same the longer you two stared at each other in awkward silence.
Finally, he seemed to have something else to say. “Were you the one humming just now?”
You blinked. That… Wasn’t really what you were expecting him to mention first. Was your humming really that loud? You hesitated for a moment before deciding to answer honestly.
“Yeah, that was me.” It’s only when you glanced into the room behind him that you realized how he might have heard you. Right, you forgot that the library was in this building. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was being too loud.”
“It’s alright, you weren’t.” He replied, his tone even and his expression unchanging. He paused for a few seconds before continuing, “I don’t usually see anyone hanging around back here.” You saw his eyes look around the area, empty aside from a few unkempt bushes and trees.
You shrugged, turning fully and adjusting your legs into a more comfortable sitting position. “I like how peaceful it is. It's difficult to find a nice, quiet place like this when everyone's out of class.” You’d argue that you did have another nice, quiet place in mind, but it wasn’t exactly peaceful there at the moment.
He nodded, seemingly understanding your point. “Well, if you need somewhere like that again, the library is usually quiet at this time.” He made a small gesture with his hand towards the room behind him. Your mouth quirks up in a half-smile. “Isn’t the library supposed to always be quiet anyways?” You can’t help but ask.
“Ah. You’re not wrong.” He seemed to realize, a slight furrow forming on his brow. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” You quickly added, smiling more genuinely to show your gratitude. He gave a small smile back.
Before either of you could say anything else, you heard the school bell ring in the distance. He looked in the direction of the sound as you stood up and dusted off your clothes, tucking your notebook under your arm.
“Looks like lunch is over. Well, I’m heading off.” He turned back towards you as you spoke, nodding. “Likewise. It was nice meeting you..?” He trailed off, and you realized that neither of you had introduced yourselves yet.
You gave him another amused half-smile and told him your name.
“Aoyagi Toya.” He replied. Toya raised his arm for a little wave as he began sliding the window shut. “Until next time.” He said before fully closing it, the small smile from earlier visible on his face even as he turned away.
You headed back as well. It’s not until halfway through class that you remembered you never did finish writing that chorus. ‘Whoops. Looks like the song will have to wait.’
You softly tapped your pen on the desk, lost in thought. It’s not often you get distracted enough to not finish a task like that. You try not to beat yourself up too hard over it though.
Besides, it’s not like you’ll make a habit of running into Toya like that again.
First full fic I've written in years, and it's another x reader--
Anyways, I hope you guys like this! I know it's a bit different from what I usually post, but I've been working on my writing a lot and I'm hoping to post more of it every now and then!
Don't worry though, more art (project sekai or otherwise) hopefully coming soon
a/n ♡ thank you for requesting ✰ this post is quite long because of the individual sections , i hope thats okay ! i did also add a little bit of the thoughts you had on each character ^^ , your childhood friend is referred to as 'X'
requester ♡ @6-zao-xing-9
tenma tsukasa . . . 天馬司
X and you used to be very close when you were younger , but growing distant when you grew older . While you and Tsukasa had gotten closer recently , X had pulled you aside and demanded you stay away from him . But when he invited you to a sleepover , you just couldnt refuse him .
After a sunday full of laughter and playful banter , sweets and play - fighting , you had to go to school the next day , and you had forgotten some of your belongings at the Tenma household .
Finding you in the hallways at lunch , Tsukasa smiled at you , holding out your bag to you .
" Hey, you forgot your stuff at my place. I was thinking of dropping it off at your house, but a world future star just cannot miss practice. "
He smiled again as you giggled , taking your bag from his hands . As you walk back in the lunchroom , X's table was staring at you , with X glaring daggers into you as you simply waved and walked off to your own table .
kamishiro rui . . . 神代類
Rui knew about X's existence , since he had noticed how they would glare at you when you're with him .
The morning after you had stayed at his house , you had forgotten the shirt you had worn to sleep .
So at school , but before morning classes , you were eating a small snack and on your phone before Rui had walked in , making eye contact with X to make sure they were watching before turning his attention back to you .
" Hm? Why am I here? You forgot your shirt at my house, and I'm simply here to return it. "
He watched as your flushed a slight red due to classmates glancing at you two with curious eyes , and X fuming with anger .
Before leaving , Rui bent down to whisper in your ear .
" This.. friend of yours. Needs to stop being so negative about us. "
He gave you and X one last sly smile before leaving .
shinonome akito . . . 東雲彰人
You had originally visited at the Shinonome household because you were partners with Akito , building a 3D project for [ your choice ] .
But because the project had taken so much longer than you both had hoped for , Akito suggested you just stay over . Once your parents had agreed , your ' project time ' turned into a sleepover .
In a rush because you had a lot to do that school morning , you had forgotten one of your bags at Akito's house .
After school , Akito had to go see a teacher and couldnt walk home with you , so he gave you your bag at the school exit once the bell had rang .
" Over here! Here, you left this in my room last night. "
You flushed lightly at the gesture , taking the bag and thanking him before you turned around to a lot of stares thrown your way , specifically X's stare .
You decided to wave him goodbye and rush out of the school before anyone could question you .
aoyagi toya . . . 青柳冬弥
You and Toya were close friends , visiting WEEKEND GARAGE every friday , and hanging out over the weekend .
You and the rest of Vivid Bad Squad decided to have a sleepover at Toya's house , playing Uno and watching An and Akito fight .
Amidst all the fun , you had forgotten an item or two at his house . And as the good friend he is , made sure to return it to you as soon as he could .
During passing period inbetween classes , Toya had come up to you at your locker and tapped your shoulder, stretching out the hand holding your bag .
" You forgot this at my house yesterday. Hm? What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that? "
He noticed your reddened and embarrassed cheeks , but wasnt able to pinpoint why before he realized people were looking over at the both of you before letting out a whispered " oh . "
X was furious , not only because they had told you to stay away from Toya , but to be at his house had just left them stunned .
this might just be me , but i think X finally got the memo .
You ask them to break an apple in half with their bare hands. How does it end?
Phainon makes the mistake of assuming that it's a simple task and tries to force it open — resulting in the apple bouncing off and hitting him square in the nose. Now that the apple has declared a challenge, the Deliverer can't just back down without responding. So, he tries again and the apple explodes from the amount of force he'd used. He's going to figure out what the sorcery behind it is soon though, mark his words.
Mydei breaks it in one go. There isn't much to be bewildered about here though, considering his upbringing. In the wilderness, oftentimes the only utensils you'll have access to are your hands.
Anaxa knew it was a trap, knew brute force isn't the way and that there's a specific technique for this trick but still, he ended up falling for it anyway and that fiasco resulted in an obliterated apple from a hearty shot of his gun. You thought that'd be the end of it, until the scholar returned a week later with a contraption resembling mechanical hands, created specifically for breaking apples apart.
Dr. Ratio gives the apple a long stare. You'd think he was trying to pressure the fruit into breaking in twine by itself with the sheer power of his brilliant mind. After what seemed like a while of mathematical calculations floating around the man, he managed to break the apple exactly as you'd wanted.
Aventurine fails at first, much to his immense displeasure. He has a reputation for being good with his hands, he cannot tolerate this insult. And true to his words, he returns half an hour later, a master of this trick with the help of social media.
Sunday had a hunch he wouldn't succeed but, to appease you, he still tried anyway. When his predication turned out to be true, he calmly fetched a knife, properly prepared the apple and handed the sliced fruit to you on a plate. His knife skills are better anyway.
Absolutely hate how I wrote this but I wrote to much to scrap it so uh
—You two have a buried secret that you haven’t told the others, one that revokes heated memories wasted behind drunk passion. A stupid little bottle game makes it resurface. History repeats itself for the yearning who want it to.
“Y/n!!!” March came barging into your room, making herself known before she even appeared in front of your eyes. The door slammed open and her familiar pink hair came into view, she held her phone up high with a grin that had no good behind it.
She winked and clocked her phone in your direction. “have you seen this game that’s resurfaced recently!” She flicked back on her phone, her finger scrolling faster than her eyes as she searches through god knows what. Then her eyes sparkle.
“Here!” She moves closer to you and eventually sits at the end of your bed where you rest. Her phone once again in view, a shakey video of people spinning a bottle on the floor plays as they all sit in a circle around it. They are all very much intoxicated judging by how sloppy and delirious they all are.
“And whoever the bottle lands on, the spinner has to kiss!” March adds on like you can’t see it in the video.
“Oh so it’s pretty much spin the bottle?” You question back at her.
“What? You already know the game? No fair!, did you and Dan heng play it without me?” She pouts and turns her head away in playful frustration.
Well…you wouldn’t really say you played it without her…in fact there was no game at all. It’s just happened, so quick to—you never knew how much Dan heng infatuated you. He was knowledgeable, soft spoken and a hell of a body guard, no wonder why he was the appointed body guard of the astral express. This man wouldn’t let a single fly land on you, let alone leave you in a bar by yourself.
And that’s exactly how it’s happened. Good times lead to drinks with friends, drinks with friends lead to words not meant to be spoken and words not meant to be spoke turn into muffled sloppy kisses that lead to the nearest bedroom. You try so hard to repress that moment to the deepest crevices of your mind, but it always slips out. Slips out when you see him, when he speaks to you like it never happened, slips out when he catches you glancing at him from across the room and most definitely slips out when its no one but the two of you alone in a room.
Your not sure what Dan heng thinks about you anymore, I mean sure he reciprocated your advances, kissed you deeper—held you tighter—kissed along your neck to your nape—squeezed you to make sure it was real. But come on maybe that was your drunk gaze making you delusional, you guys are friends nothing more…you don’t want to ruin that.
You sigh as you look back up at march who didn’t even seem to notice that you dozed off somewhere inbetween the conversation.
“March…it’s a cool idea and all but who else are we gonna play with? It can’t just be me and you” you question, showing an ‘this is never gonna work’ look at back at her.
“That’s why I asked Sunday” she smugly replied back, crossing her arms with a mischievous grin.
“Yeah like he’s gonna agree—” you chuckle in your tone
“He already did” she cut you off.
“Yeah right he did, this is Sunday we’re talking about” you reply back in disbelief, surely he did not—you stand by that.
“He did!!, I’ll go get him and show you, my charm works on all” she hopped to her feet and swiftly left your room , only to come back mere seconds later with a poor awkward looking boy.
“I brought the boy and the bottle!” She roars in victory as she guides the awkward Sunday to the floor before sitting herself down near him. She pats the empty space to her right as she gestures for you to sit down aswell. You shake your head in disbelief as you climb out of bed and head to sit on the floor with the others.
“Sunday did you really agree to this or are you being held prisoner” you question with a slight hint of sarcasm mixed in.
“To honest…I didn’t think miss march was actual being serious when she first invited me…or if anyone would actually join her..” he mumbled that last part as he cleared his throat, now looking at the bottle that March just placed in the centre of all of them.
“Oh well! Everyone is here now let’s get started! I’ll go first!” To excited to hear what you and Sunday had to say, she spun the bottle quickly—anticipating its halt and who her delicate lips would grace.
The bottle slowly started to lose its momentum and slowly but surely landed its tip facing you. Looking from the bottle to you, March clapped her hands and gleamed as she gave you her stupidly cute face.
“I guess you’re pretty lucky y/n, you’re my first kiss of the night!” She winked at you as she anticipated your next move. You shake your head let out a chuckle as your prepare yourself for what’s to come.
You and March both inch closer to each-other, the closer you got to her the more you could tell how shy she’s gotten. Her cheeks rose in colour as your lips were breaths away from taking hers, finally your lips meet for a fleeting second before you pulled away with a click of your lips disconnecting. Afraid if you stayed longer heat would come out her head, Sunday could only watch anxiously—waiting, anticipating his turn.
March took a few seconds afterwards to cool off her head, she held her face and let her chest rise and fall back to normal. She muttered “uhh-um…hehe, your turn now y/n…”
You composed yourself again, looked at the bottle—reached out and spun it. It was off again, gaining momentum before slowly losing it. This time its tip slowly turned and landed on the anxious boy who sat directly in-front of you. He froze, his wings twitched slightly at the sight. He took a heavy breath and a quick gulp to the lump in his throat, poor boy tried to keep his composure but his face gave him away so bad.
You couldn’t help but smile at him, giggling under your breath a little at how sucha collected man can fumble under a mere kiss. You rose to your knees and quietly crawled over to him, he instinctly jittered back—eyes looking everywhere but you. Poor boy, was all you could think, he just joined the express not that long ago and now he’s here kissing the very same girls he fraught against in battle.
Your eyes dimmed as you went to cup his face, hands gently pressed on his cheeks, fingers just overlapping small strands of his hair as they sat comfortably under his wings. You went slow as to not scare this little bird away, his eyes slowly fluttered closed as your lips brushed against his.
Soon you connected them, they were surprisingly soft, warm almost like he’s been waiting to taste your lips on his. His breathing laboured, breath caught in his chest,butterflies fluttering in his stomach—the room temperature rising. Just as you were about to deepen the kiss, your door suddenly swung open with a loud thud. Causing all three of you to jolt and shoot your heads to the door, all looking like a bunch of kids caught in the act.
March let out let a small shriek as she jumped in her own skin. Your hands still held Sunday’s face as your eyes were filled with horror, mouth agape and lungs empty.
Dan heng ignored all others and stared directly at you, his face the same expression as you. Disbelief plastered all over at the sight of you on the floor, lips freshly plump from another. His heart tensed, stopped beating almost. He saw it but he didn’t want to believe it, he just so happened to noticed how quiet the sleeping cabin was. Thankfully he snooped around looking for anyone, he turned to peak into march’s room—no one was there. He moved down, heading towards the corridor and up the stairs.
He stood in front of your room, ready to knock quickly, peeking into the small window of your door. To a sight he wished he could’ve prevented, Something in him ignited, he grew green and his hands moved on their own. He quickly flung the door open with a loud thud, finally putting an end to your lips touching someone’s that wasn’t his.
“Dan Heng! You scared me!!, have you ever heard of knocking geez” March squealed as she catches her breath. You quickly pull away from Sunday and hurriedly wiggled back to your original position on the floor. Your heartbeat was ringing in your ear, so loud you could barely hear what was happening. Why did Dan heng suddenly barge in specifically at that moment. It made you frustrated that his timing could’ve been any worse.
“I-I want to play to” he cowardly announced as he stood awkwardly at the door. Very specifically eyeing at you before looking down to the bottle on the ground. Perhaps this was his chance to show you what you do to him. The gruelling longing that he’s been wanting to feel again ever since that night, his hands ache to feel your skin under them, his lips longing to caress spots they have not yet felt.
March’s expression grew bigger as much as her grin did. “What!? Really?! You would actually play with us?!” She was dumbfounded, and as were you.
Dan heng would never EVER play anything this stupid. It almost made you think that there was something more going on hidden between his intent. You quickly glance off at Sunday whose head has now hung low, not really sure what was going on inside his head—you decide it’s better to leave him to his own thoughts.
March gestures for Dan Heng to sit in front of her and he obliges. Carefully looking at you as his sits down near you, both your hearts seems to fasten having no idea they beat like this for each-other.
“Ok! Since y/n kissed Sunday, it’s now Sunday’a turn!” March continued on, seeing more happier now that another addition has joined. Sunday suddenly snapped out of his ‘daydream’ and his eyes lifted to the bottle before he quickly spun it.
All of you watched in anticipation, eyes watching the bottle go round and round as it slowly landed onnnn….”Dan Heng!” March exclaimed and looked at the two boys.
She quickly shot you a cheeky look, a look that said ‘there is no way this is happening’ and you both couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Both of your conjoined laughs echoed through the room as the boys looked at you both with concerned looks.
“There is no way you guys are gonna kiss each other” you quirk back to them, slight tears pricking your eyes as you swipe them away. “I mean look at youse! You’re both as stiff as a rock!” You laugh with March again as she cowers to the floor.
“Who says we aren’t going to kiss?” Dan Heng snaps back as he swiftly grabs a handful of the shirt Sunday is wearing. He pulls Sunday into a quick kiss almost like a peck, one that Sunday had way to late of a reaction to decline too. However it was soon far over as soon as it started.
Both you and March broke out of your laughter and could only look at them with pure shock. Then suddenly March clapped her hands and cheered; “WHOO!! Dan Heng!! Didn’t think you had it in you, are you secretly kissing people when we go on adventures?”
He only chuckled slightly as he threw you a smug glance, one that you completely understood. There’s no way he actually remembers that night…right? Why did he give you that look then? and why is he now spinning the bottle?
To lost in your own world trying to figure out what that glance meant. The bottles tip found its way to land on you. It took you a few seconds to register but then it hit you, both you and Dan Heng froze in sync. Obviously this was gonna happen eventually but now?! So suddenly already? This is literally Dan heng first spin and it lands on you. Aha must be laughing at you right now.
You face Dan Heng who twitches at the slight of you, his eyes narrow down to your lips as they try their best to flicker back to your eyes. You were alluring as always, Dan Heng knew that and that’s why he was captivated that night way back when. He couldn’t believe you blurred out all of those words straight to his face. And he most definitely couldn’t believe that you’ve waited so long to bring it up again.
Of course he remembers, he did everything he could so he would remember that night. He itched it into his brain, craving memories of how sweet your lips tasted, how he could easily lift you up and push himself into you. How your fingers entangled in his hair and how much he ached and yearned for this.
He wanted nothing more for a chance again, one were your both sober, one were he doesn’t have to wait for a drink to help him—one with just you and him again.
“OO LETS GO DAN HENG AND Y/N!!” March kept her upbeat attitude never aware what has just awaken.
You finally cast your gaze towards Dan heng letting your eyes met, so much hidden behind those endless oceans trapped in his eyes. Yet you never drown, you swim in them.
For once you hesitate, you’re not sure what to do. Is this right? Will everything really play out ok? Your breathing catches again as you start to drown in those eyes again that watch you slump in defeat.
Dan heng of course notices, he notices everything about you and can read you like an open book. He saw how you cowered and bit your lip slightly losing eye contact with him. He couldn’t take it anymore, his selfish needs and wants were eating his flesh and the only remedy hesitates. Enough.
He reached out for your hand, gently as to not shatter you but as a sign that he has been here, waiting. Your eyes flutter to him instinctly finally dawning on you that it will be ok, your both ready and willing, no more fighting what you could barely hold back.
Dan Heng was the first to move closer, he didn’t know it but his body did. His hand was still firm on yours, he was careful and precise in his movements. He knew where he wanted to be and how to get there.
You let Dan heng move closer to you as the bridge crumbles between the distance. He leaned over, guiding his free hand to trace the hair behind your ears before travelling down and around to land softly on your jawline. He was warm, sensitive and took the initiative to cup your chin to lace within his fingers.
He moved your head slightly up, trailing his fingers off your chin with a fleeting last touch before he slid back to the side of your rosey cheeks. He gave you one small squeeze to your hand that sat beneath his as a way to gesture ‘are you ready?’
Ready, you closed your eyes breathlessly, waiting, anticipating those foreign lips once again. Dan heng’s heart was beating against his ribcage, as he pulled your lips delicately to his. And then they collided.
Warm and soft a feeling you missed so bad, his lips moved rhythmically with his desire for you. A desire that’s been aching and clawing its way to find you again. He snaked his hand behind the small of you back wanting nothing more to pull you closer to him, the kiss got more intense you both won’t backing out.
They smacked, moved in sync with each-other, following a rhythm that longed to be sung. You both didn’t dare catch your breath, digging deeper and deeper into this endless pit of want. Almost a bit too much..
“Um hellloooo, guysss…we’re still here you know?”March chirped in and could do nothing but stare at the two animals in front of her.
You and Dan heng broke off and quickly fixed your disheveled selves, patting down your clothes and hair to looks ‘normal’ again. You both chuckled it off and apologised awkwardly in sync.
“Hehe it’s fine, you guys gotta tell me what’s going on with you two later though pleaseee” March cheekily grinned as she knew there was always something secret about you two.
You all continued to play spin the bottle stupidishly, stupidishly because every time you and Dan Heng spin the bottle you would make out for like a solid 5 minutes making March intervene again. And even when Dan Heng would spin the bottle on someone else he would just move it back to you!
Like come on! March totally thinks that’s cheating the game, and she was sure to tell you although neither of you heard her between the the the pure desire of just wanting to ravish each other again.
March could only sigh in defeat as she stood up from the floor and brushed herself off.
“Ughhh, come on Sunday let’s just leave them in here, there obviously having more fun without us” March huffed as she and Sunday headed out of the room, making dam sure they closed the door behind them.
And as soon as they did all they could hear were fast shuffling and small thuds echo across the walls.
Could you tell I gave up in the end LOL. I still absolutely hate the way I wrote this, I just couldn’t convey what I wanted Dan Heng to feel in words. It’s been so long since I wrote so that’s probs why :c
Summary: You were promised to him as a child. You were raised within temple walls, trained to serve, to revere, and to love the god you would marry. But love between a mortal and a god was never meant to be easy. Especially when he never showed up.
But... It was all worth it.
Notes: Hey, so uh, if you see this first, I recommend you read this fic before this one, otherwise it won't make sense hehe. With this, To Love The Burning Sun has come to a close. Please look forward to my future projects (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ
Side Story I
“Are you sure we won’t get caught?” Arielle whispered, her voice barely louder than the rustle of leaves. She kept glancing nervously over her shoulder, eyes locked on the grand doors of the temple’s main prayer hall—the very room the three of you were supposed to be kneeling in, chanting verses.
“Don’t worry about it~” Fortuna said with a dismissive wave, flipping her braid over one shoulder. “We’ve done this a hundred times.” She jerked her chin toward you and the tree.
You stood at the base of the old fig tree, squinting up into its thick tangle of branches. Your fingertips brushed the bark, testing for the dampness.
Good grip, you thought as you gave a satisfied nod. “Alright, just like before. Follow my lead.”
Without another word, you hoisted yourself up, sandals scraping against the bark and trunk pressing into your palms. The muscle memory guided you as you put your left foot on the knot and your right hand on the branch just above you. You have to admit it didn’t look elegant, but hey, it worked.
“I-I really think we should head back,” Arielle said, wringing her hands at the base of the tree. She looked as if she’d rather face the head priestess than climb a tree.
“If you’d rather spend the entire Lucid Hour rewriting verses we’ve all memorized since we were ten, then, by all means,” You said, not even glancing down as you climbed higher. “But I’m going to see what Okhema has to offer today.”
Fortuna snorted with laughter and grabbed a low branch, pulling herself up with ease. “Come on, Elle. You can’t live in fear forever.”
You reached the branch that jutted over the temple wall and inched across it, balancing carefully as the leaves brushed your face. With practiced motion, you swung your legs over the edge, perched like the birds you often see.
“See you on the other side,” you whispered to them and jumped.
You landed on the grassy slope with a soft thud. A pulse of victory surged through you as you turned and threw a grin up to your friends. “Easy!”
Fortuna followed with a fluid leap, landing with the grace of someone who was clearly enjoying the rebellion a little too much. She brushed off her hands and turned around t look at Arielle.
Meanwhile, the girl had just managed to crawl to the top of the wall. She sat there frozen, hands gripping the edge of the wall as she looked down with wide eyes.
“Come on!” You called up, hands cupped around your mouth. “You’re not going to die!”
“I’m not so sure,” Arielle muttered.
After a lot of coaxing and a little peer pressure, she slid off the edge with a squeal that made a few birds fly from the nearby trees. She landed in a clumsy heap, dress tangled around her knees. Her face was bright red as she stood and attempted to dust herself off with whatever dignity she could salvage.
“See? You survived!” Fortuna grinned.
“Barely,” you added with a snicker, patting Arielle’s shoulder as she groaned. “Let’s go. The market’s waiting!”
“What about your dad? What if he finds out?” Fortuna asked.
“My mom visited yesterday and told me to pray for him during his travels to Akashic. He won’t be back for a while.” You shrugged.
As you led them down the winding footpath away from the temple, the city of Okhema opened before you. Stalls lined the cobbled streets, bursting with the colors of fruits, silk, painted trinkets, and books with cracked spines and questionable titles. The sweet and savory smell of food filled your nostrils. Children ran between carts, laughing.
You sighed, breathing in the air.
The three of you browsed and bartered, your pockets nearly empty but your curiosity overflowing. You spent your last few coins on skewers and sizzling meat. You pointed to a quiet corner near the fountain, and the others followed as you sat and enjoyed your hard-won lunch.
Just as you raised your skewer to your lips, a familiar sound froze you in place. A sharp clearing of the throat.
You turned, stomach dropping to the nether realm.
Your father stood there in his full military uniform, arms crossed, brow raised in a way that could silence a battlefield. His presence casts a shadow bigger than the temple walls themselves.
Fortuna’s smile vanished, and Arielle’s soul was probably already turning herself in to Lady Castorice in the nether realm by how pale she turned.
“What a surprise,” your father said dryly, voice flat with disapproval. “Didn’t realize temple training involved grilled meat and street musicians.”
“We were just — um — there was— I—” You tried,
Your father didn’t even blink. “All three of you. Back to the temple. Now.”
The walk back felt longer than your journey out. Heads ducked, feet dragging, you followed him like prisoners returning to their sentence. You glanced at Arielle and Fortuna. All three of you wore the same expression of dread and resignation.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
“Wow,” Phainon murmured, resting his head lazily on the pillow beside you. “Didn’t take you for a troublemaker, with how obedient and polite you acted when you first came here.” his chuckle was soft, almost amused, his eyes half-lidded with post-bliss after another intimate session.
You snorted, your cheek pressed against the plush pillow as your body sank deeper into the mattress, your bare skin still warm beneath the blankets you both now shared.
“Yeah, well… I learned my lesson. After that last escapade, the temple enforced stricter rules just for me. And my father? He made sure I got my fair share of punishment.” You exhaled through your nose, the memory still vivid enough to make you wince.
“My rebelling teenage days were cut short; the ‘Elusive Priestess’ was no more.” You dramatically cried.
Phainon sighed, “I don’t think that’s something you should be boasting about… especially to me,” he commented.
“Don’t worry. Just because I used to sneak out of prayers doesn’t mean I forgot my devotion to you. All those stories they told about how brave and loving you were… they really did something to me.” You smiled wistfully, eyes distant with the memory of the Khaslana you once imagined.
Though, to be fair, there were times when it felt like you’d been coerced into loving him. By putting you in that temple, learning those prayers, lessons, and praises sung in his name… it had felt less like love and more like obligation.
But the man before you now was everything you had once dared to hope for. Kind, flawed, warm. You hadn’t been wrong about him. The path to get here had just been… a little rougher than expected.
Phainon shifted beside you, turning to his side, his bare chest in full view, his white hair slightly tousled as he rested his head on his hand.
“But wait,” He said, narrowing his eyes as the thought struck him, “Didn’t you say your father was supposed to be on a campaign? How was he even in the city that day?”
You smiled faintly.
“Funny you ask that. He actually said something weird at the time — he swore in your name, mind you — that a mountain had suddenly appeared where there wasn’t one before. He and his men had taken that road dozens of times, and it had always been flat. The maps didn’t show any mountains nearby either. He had to turn around and rethink the entire route.”
You laughed quietly to yourself at the memory. Your father’s face was twisted in frustration, gripping a map in one hand and cursing the magically-appearing-mountain under his breath.
But Phainon didn’t laugh.
You turned your head, “Phainon?”
He was quiet, his expression blank for a moment before he blinked, a sheepish smile pulling at his lips. “Where exactly did you say your father was going again?”
“Akashic…” you replied slowly, narrowing your eyes.
Phainon let out a soft laugh and shook his head in disbelief. “Oh dear,” he muttered under his breath, then looked at you again. “Okay, this is going to sound… bad, but do you know Mydeimos, the God of Strife?”
You nodded, “Yeah…”
“So… we sort of had this wager a while back. He claimed I couldn’t move one of Georios’ immovable mountains in a day. He said that if I failed, he’d get to rule Okhema for a full year.”
You stared at him, “You’re joking.”
“Nope. I took the challenge. Moved the mountain in under half a day. Tossed it near Akashic because it seemed out of the way. Crisis averted, Okhema remains under my jurisdiction.”
Your jaw dropped.
“So… you’re telling me,” you said slowly, “that my father wouldn’t have caught me sneaking out if you hadn’t moved an entire mountain into his path?!”
Phainon smiled nervously, inching slightly away from you. “Technically— yes?”
You squinted at him. “You absolute—!” Your hand shot out, grabbing his ahoge. That one rebellious strand that always sprang from his head.
“OW— Hey!” He yelped.
“Do you have any idea how many verses I had to write?!”
“OW! Not so hard!”
“My fingers were cramped for a month!”
“Forgive me!”
“You think a god would have some foresight,” you muttered through gritted teeth, twisting the strand lightly.
“Wait– why are you blaming me? It’s your fault for sneaking out– OW!”
With one final tug, you let go, watching him collapse dramatically onto the pillows with his hands shielding his hair. His eyes were glassy, and his lower lip jutted out in the most exaggerated pout you’d ever seen— like a kicked puppy.
“Come here,” you mumbled, pulling him into your arms.
Phainon let out a pleased hum as you wrapped yourself around him, his face nuzzling your naked chest. You placed a firm kiss on his ahoge, slightly harder than necessary, and he chuckled again.
“Am I forgiven?” he asked.
“Barely.”
You kissed his temple, your earlier annoyance melting into soft affection. Your fingers combed through his white hair, soothing the pain. He had relaxed completely, limbs tangling with yours under the blanket.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Your father let out a long sigh as he crossed his arms, watching you from across the room. You sat at the low table in the living room, hunched over a worn sheet of parchment, your cramped finger scrawling the same sentence, what must have been the thirtieth time.
I will not try to sneak out again.
The scratch of your pen was the only sound filling the air, save for the occasional huff of frustration you would let out. This was supposed to be your weekend of fun! You can even hear the sound of laughter from outside your house. Instead, you were trapped indoors under your father’s surveillance, paying the price for your latest stunt.
Your mother appeared beside him, placing a cool drink into his hands. She settled into the seat next to him with a small laugh, her eyes glinting with amusement as she glanced at your miserable figure.
“What am I going to do with her?” your father muttered, not loud enough for you to hear but perfectly audible to his wife.
“I heard they found a map of ‘possible escape routes’ scribbled behind her desk at the table,” your mother replied, unable to stop the fond smirk tugging at her lips. “She definitely inherited your strategic genius.”
Your father groaned, rubbing at his temples as if the memory of his youth physically pained him. “And what does she do with it? She uses it to scale walls and dodge prayer sessions! I just want her to be ready… her future’s already been decided because of me. The least I can do is prepare her.”
His voice was softer and quieter, heavy with guilt.
Your mother’s gaze softened. She leaned into his shoulder with a knowing sigh. “Oh, like you were any better,” she said, nudging him gently. “You used to skip out of training just to see me in the market, remember? You climbed up those spiky fences once just to leave me a note.”
Your father tried to hide the flicker of a smile. “That was different.”
“Sure it was,” your mother said, clearly unconvinced. “Maybe Lord Khaslana will appreciate a lover with a rebellious streak. You know, someone who’s bold and witty. The kind who climb temple walls for fun.” She sipped from her own glass, her eyes twinkling with tease, “I accepted you, didn’t I?”
He raised a brow at her, deadpan. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, nothing!” she said quickly, rising to her feet with feigned innocence. “Phew! The weather’s hot today, isn’t it?” And with a teasing smile, she disappeared into the kitchen, leaving him to grumble behind her.
Side Story II
“Wow! So this is Carmitis!” you gasped, eyes wide with wonder as they roamed the breathtaking cityscape.
Built along the curve of a serene bay, Carmitis shimmered like a gemstone beneath the sun. The city was renowned across Amphoreus for its devotion to the arts. Sculptures adorned every corner of every plaza, and murals danced across temple walls in hues so vivid they seemed to glow. The sound of music floated on the sea breeze, even though no musician was visibly performing. The wind itself carried the ethereal tones of water lyres, instruments unique to this city, creating melodies that colored the air like threads of silk.
You had always wondered what other cities in Amphoreus looked like. And Phainon, ever the considerate husband, had kept his promise to bring you beyond the marble gates of Okhema. Now here you were.
Before your trip, Phainon had consulted the other gods for suggestions on where to take you at the Vortex of Genesis. Naturally, the ever-proud God of Strife, Mydeimos, had jumped at the chance.
“You must visit Castrum Kremnos,” he’d said with a grin. “We serve the finest pomegranate juice in all of Amphoreus. The annual Kremnoan Festival is just around the corner. It’ll be held in the colosseum. Nothing stirs the blood like the clash of swords while drinking the taste of pomegranate juice with milk. Trust me, your little wife will love it.”
Phainon had barely stifled a grimace when Anaxagoras, God of Reason, interjected coolly.
“Do you want her to die of a heart attack from those brutal Kremnoans you’re always so proud of?” Anaxagoras stepped forward, arms behind his back, gaze steady. “I suggest the Grove of Epiphany instead. The public library there is extensive, from divine philosophy to romantic fiction. Knowledge deepens connection. Let her mind grow with yours.”
Phainon had considered it. You did love reading, after all. The Grove of Epiphany, where Anaxagoras resided and had watched over, could be an excellent choice.
But…
“But, Anaxa, are there–” Phainon began.
“Anaxagoras,” the god corrected with a sharp glance.
“A-Anaxagoras,” Phainon tried again. “Are there… any other activities there besides reading?”
Anaxagoras frowned, as though the question offended him on a spiritual level. “What other activities should there be, when reading is clearly the pinnacle of shared experience?”
Before Phainon could reply, a soft, melodic laugh floated through the air.
Aglaea arrived with grace, her heels clicking elegantly across the polished marble floor. Her arms crossed over her chest, expression full of amusement.
“Do not listen to these fools, Khaslana.” She said, her voice silken. She stopped beside a now scowling Anaxagoras and a very unamused Mydeimos, casting her eyes toward Phainon.
“The Grove will give you more trouble than pleasure,” She drawled, casually flicking her hair toward the God of Reason. “You’ll be too busy slipping over damp moss and avoiding overly curious scholars to enjoy a good book in peace.”
Then, with a coy smile, she added, “We wouldn’t want another storm to befall our beloved Amphoreus, would we?”
Phainon groaned under his breath. She was never going to let that incident go.
“Oh, and what, pray tell, would you suggest?” Mydeimos asked, raising a brow.
Aglaea smirked like she had already won. “Trust the Goddess of Romance to know the answer.”
And for once, Phainon followed her advice without protest. Because standing there now, beside you, watching your face light up as the sea wind played music through unseen lyres, he had to admit that Aglaea was right.
“Well,” he chuckled, “You really can’t go wrong with a city that worships the Goddess of Romance. It lives up to her name, that’s for sure.”
Phainon gently tugged your hand as the two of you strolled through the marble-lined streets of Carmitis. The scent of salt hung on the breeze, mixing with sweet hints of florals that spilled from balconies above. He led you through an ivy-covered archway, toward a villa tucked near the cliffs, its design both modest and elegant.
“She prepared this for us?” you asked, eyeing the delicate rosewood carvings on the doorframe.
Phainon nodded, though his lips curled sheepishly. “I originally planned for us to book an inn. You know, get the full ‘mortal couple on a trip’ experience. Maybe a rickety room with creaky floors and too many windows.”
You snorted. “Very romantic.”
“But... a private place like this?” He smiled faintly as he pushed open the doors. “It’s nice to have something that’s just ours.”
Inside, the house was bathed in warm light, soft drapery flowing with the breeze through open windows that framed the sea below. After setting down your travel essentials, you both ventured back into the city, arms brushing as you walked side by side, savoring the relaxed freedom of being unknown, unburdened.
“Aglaea said we’re welcome to visit her tailor shop here,” Phainon mentioned, glancing at you with a hint of mischief. “Anything we like, on the house.”
You blinked. “Wait, Aglaea has a tailor shop?”
“She’s a terrific businesswoman,” Phainon said, “Sewing and dressmaking are her passions.”
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “Which one? Which shop?”
“I think it’s called... Romantic Threads?”
Your jaw dropped. “The Romantic Threads? The one in Okhema that books up three seasons in advance?!”
“...Possibly?”
Without another word, you latched onto his arm. “We are going. Now.”
Phainon let out a startled laugh as you dragged him down the main street.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The boutique was nestled between sculpted columns and surrounded by glowing flowers that never wilted. You stepped inside, and your breath hitched. The interior was all velvet drapes and mirrors kissed with gold. A soft instrumental hum floated through the air. As if summoned by your entrance, one of the Garmentmakers glided toward you, its elegant, floating form headless but perfectly graceful.
“Greetings, Lord Khaslana and his bride. Lady Aglaea has instructed us to offer you our full attention. Please, make yourselves at home.”
You could barely believe it. Garmentmakers flitted across the floor, carrying bolts of silk that shimmered like captured starlight. Phainon wandered curiously to a mannequin clad in a regal ensemble.
“Hmm… do you have this color in purple?” he asked, tilting his head. The Garmentmaker paused mid-glide, its hand tilting in acknowledgment before floating off to find alternatives.
You, meanwhile, stood in the center of the boutique, completely overwhelmed by the grandeur.
“I can’t believe it’s empty,” you murmured aloud. “In Okhema, you can’t even peek through the windows without a reservation.”
A nearby Garmentmaker turned toward you. “Lady Aglaea cleared the schedule. Today, this boutique belongs to you alone.”
Your heart warmed at that. You were ushered gently into a fitting chamber, the Garmentmakers taking precise measurements while whispering silks and satins floated from their unseen racks.
When you finally stepped out, you wore a dress crafted in hues of soft blue, white, and warm gold. A corset cinched your waist in elegant curves, engraved with delicate floral motifs that shimmered with each breath. The skirt floated just beneath your knees, perfect for walking near the sea.
You saw Phainon was still busy asking the poor Garmentmaker for other colors. So, you cleared your throat to get his attention.
He turned. And froze.
His eyes widened as if he had forgotten how to breathe.
“You…” he exhaled, stepping forward as if drawn to you by some invisible thread. “You look… amazing.”
He circled around you slowly, fingertips brushing against the curve of your arm, then ghosting along the edge of your sleeve. His gaze was reverent, like a priest looking upon a miracle.
You giggled, cheeks warm. “Right? I’ve always wanted to visit this shop back in Okhema. But every time I tried, it was fully booked. I didn’t even know she owned it!”
Phainon chuckled and brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Next time, we’ll just ask Aglaea directly.”
The Garmentmakers helped adjust your accessories as Phainon disappeared into a fitting room of his own. You didn’t see the outfit he chose, but you were certain it was wonderful. (it's not)
You decided to immediately wear yours while Phainon’s clothes were wrapped up. By the time you stepped out onto the street again, hand-in-hand, the world felt warmer.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Unlike the structured stone markets of Okhema, Carmitis boasted a floating market unlike any you’d ever seen. Wooden platforms bobbed gently atop the clear turquoise waters of the bay, connected by arching bridges of woven rope and driftwood. Colorful stalls shaded by silk canopies swayed in the breeze, offering everything from exotic fruits to jeweled trinkets.
You found yourself drawn to a stall where strands of pearls gleamed under the sun, laid delicately atop deep blue velvet. Each pearl shimmered with subtle hues: rose gold, ocean silver, even a rare iridescent black, and for a moment, you were lost in their beauty.
Phainon had excused himself moments ago, promising to return with a delicacy he spotted. It was a charred fish skewer, seasoned with spices known only to this coastal region. You’d smiled and waved him off, humming softly as you browsed.
That peace didn’t last long.
A man sidled up beside you, a little too close for comfort. His voice broke the serenity. “These pearls are something, huh?”
You turned to him, instinctively taking a half-step back but offering a polite nod. “Yes, they’re quite beautiful.”
He grinned, the kind that didn’t quite reach the eyes. “You’re not from around here, are you? I’ve lived in Carmitis my whole life. I’d remember someone like you.”
Your smile tightened. “I’m just visiting.”
That should’ve been enough, but he wasn’t finished. He launched into a stream of chatter—stories of his childhood, fishing trips on the bay, festivals he’d danced in, all the while inching closer. When you tried to change the topic, he pivoted. When you gave short answers, he filled the silence.
Then, as if you hadn’t already been trying to signal disinterest, he asked, “Mind if I buy you something to drink?”
There it was.
You exhaled sharply, keeping your tone civil but firm. “No, thank you. I have a husband.”
He blinked. “Really? Don’t see a ring on you.”
You gave a tight-lipped smile and glanced toward the stall owner, silently hoping for help, but the man behind the counter suddenly busied himself with rearranging necklaces, pretending not to hear.
Before you could conjure another excuse, you felt a shift behind you, like the air itself had thickened.
A sudden chill crawled down your spine, and a familiar pressure pressed in on your senses.
“Would a punch to your face suffice?”
The voice, low and dangerous, sliced through the tension.
You turned to see Phainon standing behind you. But this wasn’t the soft-eyed, patient Phainon who held your hand ever so gently. No, his posture was sharp and rigid. His usual ocean-blue eyes blazed gold, glowing with divine ire.
The stranger visibly paled. “H-hey, man, I didn’t mean— I didn’t realize—”
Phainon stepped forward once. “Get lost.”
The words weren’t shouted, but they echoed like thunder. The man didn’t wait for a second warning as he spun on his heel and stumbled away, disappearing into the crowd.
You let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “Thanks for saving me back there—”
But before you could finish, Phainon’s hand gently but firmly clasped your wrist. “Phainon?” you blinked, trying to catch up. He led you to a more secluded area, where no one was watching.
You were about to protest, but it died in your throat as the world around you flickered, blurred, and folded inward. The scent of salt air was replaced by wood, and the hum of the market gave way to silence.
When your vision cleared, you found yourself standing inside your villa. In your bedroom.
You’d never get used to his teleportation.
Phainon stood with his back to you, shoulders still tense. You reached out instinctively. “Phainon, are you alright? I’m okay, truly. He didn’t hurt me.”
He turned slowly, and your heart skipped.
His golden gaze still burned, bright and unyielding. But it wasn’t anger that radiated from him now; it was protective, possessive, and unnerved.
His lips parted, but for a moment, he said nothing. Just stared at you as if confirming you were really there, unharmed.
“I know,” he finally said, voice hoarse. “But… seeing someone else speaking to you like that…” his jaw clenched. “It infuriates me.”
You stepped toward him gently, your fingers brushing the curve of his arm. At your touch, Phainon let out a shaky breath, the storm in his golden eyes beginning to settle. You reached up, resting your hand on his cheek, grounding him back to the moment.
He took your hand in his, his thumb lingering over your ring finger. The gesture was soft, but his expression turned pensive. You followed his gaze and realized what he was fixated on.
You gave a faint sigh. “I’m yours, Phainon,” you said softly, giving his hand a light squeeze. “You don’t have to prove that to anyone else.”
His shoulders relaxed at your words, and he leaned forward, burying his face into the crook of your neck. His arms encircled your waist with a quiet desperation, as if anchoring himself to you.
You chuckled lightly and ran your fingers along the back of his neck. It was something you’d discovered that calmed him in moments like this. He melted into your touch.
The dress you wore slipped slightly as you shifted, baring more of your shoulder. Phainon’s lips found the newly exposed skin, pressing slow, reverent kisses there.
At first it tickled, but then he added the slightest pressure with his teeth— gentle nips that sent warmth coursing through you. You sighed, threading your fingers through his hair, then tugging lightly when he bites harder, your knees weak.
“Ah— Phainon…”
He let out a quiet growl in response, his grip around you tightening. When his lips left your neck to meet yours, the kiss was unrestrained. It was messy and hungry, his emotions pouring into every movement. He guided you back toward the bed, easing you down as he hovered over you.
His breathing was uneven, matching your own. He paused for a moment, his eyes drinking in your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, the dazed look in your eyes. Then he smiled, a mix of affection and something more intense.
“I blame Aglaea,” he murmured, tugging at the collar of his shirt with a low huff. “Making you wear something this beautiful… now I have to protect you from pests.”
You laughed, breathless, watching as he fumbled with his shirt. There was something endearingly human about the way he struggled with it despite all his godly elegance. Once it was off, he leaned down again and pressed a softer kiss to your lips.
“As much as I adore you in this,” he whispered, fingers brushing the edge of your dress, “I want to see you out of it.”
His hands moved with care, slipping away the layers of fabric with practiced grace. His gaze never left yours, reverent and full of fire, as if each inch of skin revealed was something sacred.
He trailed kisses from your collarbone, leaving red blooming marks in his wake. Once his lips reached your breasts, he latched his mouth to your nipple, giving the bud kitten licks while his hand paid attention to the other, tugging and pinching at the flesh. You moan at the waves of pleasure crashing to you.
After having tended both of your breasts, his fiery kisses traveled lower to your stomach, then to the inside of your thighs. His muscular arms opened your legs wide. He pulled away, earning a whine of protest from you.
He slid your panties down your legs with ease, letting them fall forgotten to the floor. His gaze flicked up to meet yours— your breath uneven, the back of your hand pressed to your mouth, eyes fluttering from the weight of pleasure. With a playful grin, he leaned in close, blowing softly against your wetness. You let out a frustrated whine, your body tensing in anticipation. He chuckled, clearly pleased by your reaction.
“Don’t tease me.” You said, between breaths.
Phainon chuckled, lying down on the bed as he put your legs over his shoulder, “You’re making it hard not to, sweetheart.”
Your heart leaped at the pet name. But before you could calm yourself down, Phainon connected his lips to your folds, tongue lapping you up and down before pushing it inside.
You arched your back from the pleasure. Usually, Phainon would be more gentle during intimacy. This time, it felt like he was impatient—angry almost, with the way he pulled you closer to his mouth.
You reached down, fingers threading through the tousled strands of his hair. With a gentle tug, you felt him shudder below you— a low moan escaping his lips. The sound reverberated against your core, you ground your hips on his mouth, and the sensation sent a jolt through your entire body.
Phainon then inserted two fingers inside. A shameless moan escaped your lips before you could stop it, the sound far too indulgent for your own comfort.
Phainon finally pulled away from your vagina, lips glistening with your fluids. He hovered his body above you, fingers still inside as his gaze met yours. With hooded eyes, he watched you whimper and whine while he thrust his fingers roughly, grinning as your body would jolt with pleasure every time he hit that spongy spot inside you. Your hands flew to his arms, gripping his muscles tightly.
“Phainon–Phainon–Phainon,” you murmured his name like a prayer, breathless and trembling. A soft smile curved his lips as he leaned in to kiss you again, letting you taste yourself on his lips.
When Phainon curled his fingers, you couldn’t help but pull away from his kiss, letting out screams of pleasure as you near your high.
“Come on, you’re doing so good for me, sweetheart. Just let go,” He whispered, rubbing his thumb on your clit.
You came undone after a few more thrusts of his fingers. Your voice cracking as you felt the tight knot in your stomach snapped. Phainon slowed down his digits, calming you down from your high.
When your breath became steadier, he pulled his fingers out, causing you to whimper at the empty feeling. Still drunk from the euphoric feeling, you didn’t realize Phainon was flipping you over to your chest. He then lifted your hips with care, just as you heard the quiet rustle of his pants being pulled off from behind you.
“Phainon, what– ah!”
Before you could even finish your sentence, Phainon had fully pushed his length into you, letting out a low groan as he bottomed out. His breaths quicken as he holds you still, watching you squirm and whine, still sensitive from your previous high.
You propped yourself on your elbows, and he leaned closer, placing his head beside yours, which only caused him to go deeper into you. You whimpered as your walls tightened around him; no matter how many times you've done it, you still had to get used to his size at first.
“I’m sorry, just—let me have my way with you—just this once. Okay, sweetheart?” He asked, voice pleading.
You calmed your breathing, adjusting to his size before nodding your head.
“Okay.” You said, breathless.
Phainon let out a contented sigh as he kissed your cheeks. He moved his hips backward, pulling out from you, leaving only his tip, before pushing his length inside you with force. Your body swayed with each push and pull, mouth hanging open from the sensation. Your moans were getting louder with every thrust, and the way his hands played with your nipples.
Phainon wasn’t any better. He moans, groans, growls, and whimpers in your ears. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. He murmured slurred praises into your ear, occasionally biting down on your neck and reaching his hand lower to rub your core.
“Oh, you feel so—mmh, s’good around me, sweetheart.” A hard thrust into you.
“You want me to go harder? Hm? You want that? Yeah?” He was already picking up his pace before you could give him an answer.
He pulled away from your neck, straightening up his body to get a better angle. The room pulsed with the sound of ragged breaths and bodies moving in rhythm. Every gasp, every whisper of his name, mingled with the sound of skin slapping against skin. You were sure that anyone who passed by the building could hear the melodic sounds you and Phainon let out.
His thrusts were getting sloppier, words he spoke were unintelligible. He leaned back down in your ear, his fingers rubbed your clot faster in a circular motion, urging you to finish.
“C’mon, sweetheart, come with me, yeah?”
You nod frantically, choked moans escaping your lips with his every thrust. You chanted his name once more and tightened around his length, your knees growing weak. The feeling of your walls caused him to reach his edge.
“You’re mine. Mine. mine. mine.”
His hips still, unloading his seeds inside you. He gave a few lazy thrusts to ride out his high before pulling out.
You let your hips sink back into the mattress, limbs loose and trembling from your climax. Beside you, Phainon collapsed with a deep, contented sigh, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. For a long moment, neither of you moved, suspended in the quietness of the room.
Then, he turned to his side and gently pulled you into his arms, cradling your head against his chest. The warmth of his skin and the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your cheek soothed the rest of your lingering tremors. He then pressed soft, slow kisses to your hairline.
“Forgive me,” he said quietly, his voice still rough, “Was I too rough?”
You shook your head, snuggling closer until his arms tightened around you. “No, you weren’t. I’m okay,” You whispered, your voice light with affection.
A light chuckle rose from your throat as you tilted your head up to meet his eyes. “Did you get it out of your system, then?”
Phainon let out a long exhale, his brows knitting slightly with guilt. “Yes… Though I’m not proud of myself for taking it out on you,”
You reached up, brushing your fingertips gently against his cheek. His eyes had returned to his usual soft blue, no longer intense. “You didn’t hurt me. I enjoyed it… Really.”
A playful glint entered your eyes as you leaned in to kiss the edge of his jaw. “Maybe I should make you jealous more often.”
Phainon groaned dramatically, burying his face in your shoulder. “Please don’t,” he mumbled.
You laughed, the sound bubbling out of you as you wrapped your arms around him tightly. “I love you,” you whispered, your words warm against his chest.
He plastered a grin, “I love you more.”
“Don’t start.”
Side Story III
Phainon stood at the heart of the temple gardens, now transformed into a soft dreamscape of ivory and gold, nervously clutching the small velvet box in his hand. The sun filtered gently through the canopy of trees above, painting dappled light across the petals scattered along the aisle. Every inch of the garden shimmered under careful touches of decoration, elegant and simple.
Today marked your wedding anniversary, one full cycle since the day you had been bound to him. But the memory still lingered heavily in his chest, that first ceremony marked more by duty and uncertainty than celebration or love.
There were no kisses. No shared vows. Just a pact, divinely sealed and hastily delivered.
Phainon had spent weeks planning a proper wedding.. A wedding with laughter and vows, flowers and witnesses, and most importantly… a ring, crafted with the help of Chartonus himself.
He fidgeted slightly, shifting his weight between his feet as he watched his friends (the other gods and goddesses) milling about the decorated garden space.
Flower garlands hung between ivory pillars, gentle lyre music drifting from unseen strings in the wind. Tables were arranged with modest care—Ambrosia, honeyed cakes, fruits, and traditional Okheman dishes lining the platters. A clear aisle of white petals led up to where he stood, waiting.
Aglaea stood beside him, regal and radiant. The Goddess of Romance had been both surprised and delighted when Phainon asked her to officiate the ceremony. She never thought the Deliverer would ever wear such a nervous expression over something so delicate.
Mydeimos looked at Phaino’s hands. “You’re holding that box like it’s going to explode.”
Phainon gave a tight-lipped smile. “It might. My heart’s been in it for weeks,” he then puts the box inside his pocket, fidgeting with his hands lightly.
A firm clap landed on his shoulder. “Calm yourself, Khaslana,” said Anaxagoras, God of Reason, dressed far too formally for someone who had once argued weddings were ‘inefficient emotional rituals.’ “This is a wedding, not a battlefield.”
From behind him, a familiar lilting laugh rang out. “You should’ve seen his face when Aggy scolded him for his original outfit choice,” said Tribios, Goddess of Passage. “He looked like a child getting caught breaking something precious.”
Phainon scowled. “I liked that outfit. It was from Aglaea’s boutique.”
“Yes,” Aglaea said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “And it made you look like a fool. How dare you mix violet and mustard in front of me, with my own designs no less?”
The laughter that followed was interrupted by a fluttering of wings. From above, Hyacinthia descended with her miniature pegasus, Ica, trailing glittering sky dust behind her. She landed gently, her heels brushing the grass lightly.
“I cleared every gray cloud from the sky just for today,” she smiled, brushing back strands of her pink colored hair. “No storm’s going to ruin this one.”
"Doot, doot!" Ica added.
“Thank you,” Phainon said sincerely, looking at each one of his friends.
Just then, Castorice, the Goddess of Death—pale and composed—peeked from between the garden hedges. “She’s coming,” she whispered, her voice like the rustle of dry leaves.
Time seemed to stand still.
Phainon straightened. His heart thundered in his chest. He could already feel the warmth of your presence drawing near, the familiar hum of your soul that soothed his own. For all his power, all his light, nothing made him feel more undone than the sound of your footsteps approaching.
Then you appeared, the sunlight catching on the gold threading of your dress as if even the heavens wished to spotlight your presence. Your family followed closely behind.
The garden had never looked more beautiful. Flowers that normally only bloomed in different seasons now adorned the path in unison, their petals vibrant and full. Music floated through the air from invisible strings, harmonizing with the wind.
Your eyes scanned the crowd. Familiar faces looked back—Phainon had introduced them to you before, gods and goddesses of Amphoreus in their finest attire. Your eyes landed on Anaxagoras, Hyacinthia, Tribios, Aglaea, and then Mydeimos.
And then you saw him.
Phainon stood at the center of it all. He looked nervous, heart-bared, and unmistakably dazzling in a tailored robe. You recognized Aglaea’s influence immediately in the subtle elegance of the embroidery across his shoulders and cuffs. His hair was neatly swept back, though the familiar ahoge still bounced stubbornly in place. His blue eyes, brighter than ever, locked onto yours the moment he saw you.
“Phainon?” you breathed, stunned. “What is this?”
You turned in confusion, your voice filled with wonder, only to be met with a warm smile from your father. He stepped beside you, offering his arm.
Your lips parted slightly in surprise as you looked between him, the petal-strewn aisle, the altar at the end, and the dress your mother so stubbornly told you to wear today. A realization dawned over you. This wasn’t just a celebration—this was a wedding.
Your heart swelled. Slowly, you reached out and linked your arm with your father's.
As your mother and Atlas took their seats, your father leaned in slightly, his voice tight with emotion. “I’m glad,” he said softly, “that I’m finally, properly, giving away my daughter.” His hand tightened gently on your arm. “It may have started from a vow made for peace. But today, I know you’re walking toward love.”
You bit your lip, your vision already blurring with tears. “Thank you, Father.”
Both of you reached the end of the aisle. Phainon stepped forward and extended his hand. You glanced once more at your father, who gave your hand one final squeeze, tears already streaming down his cheeks, before placing it in Phainon’s.
Then it was just the two of you standing before Aglaea, who was holding a ceremonial scroll in her hand. Though she didn’t have to read from it.
“Dearly beloved,” Aglaea began, her voice carrying every corner of the garden.
“We gather here not to forge a new bond, but to renew one. This is no ordinary union, nor a formality. A vow spoken not by decree, but by choice. A promise not from god to mortal… but from soul to soul.”
She turned her gaze to you first, calling your name. “Today, do you vow yourself to him again? This time not as an offering, but as a partner? Do you give your heart freely, not to his divinity or power, but to his person?”
You swallowed back your tears and nodded. “I do. And I always will.”
Aglaea smiled, then looked to Phainon. “And you, Khaslana, God of Worldbearing. Do you vow yourself to this mortal not out of obligation, but out of love? Do you promise to show her not only your divinity, but your humanity?”
Phainon’s voice wavered slightly as he answered. “I do. More than anything.”
Then Phainon reached into his pocket. From it, he drew a small velvet box— one you hadn’t seen before. Your breath caught when he opened it.
Inside sat a beautiful ring, golden, forged with delicate sunburst patterns that shimmered faintly with divine warmth. In the center stood a diamond that glimmered slightly in the light.
Phainon took the ring between his fingers, his hand holding yours. With great care, Phainon slid the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, as if it had been waiting for you all along. Aglaea conjured her golden threads as they swirled brighter around the two of you, encircling your joined hands.
“Then, as Goddess of Romance,” Aglaea said with a soft smile, “I bless this union, again and forever. Let the world bear witness to this second vow. You may seal this promise with a kiss.”
Phainon didn’t hesitate. He stepped closer and took your face gently in his hands as he kissed you, soft and slow. You reciprocated all the same, wrapping your hands around his shoulders. Everyone rose in applause, the wind turned musical as sunlight poured through the clouds above in radiant beams.
In that golden moment, with the gods as witnesses and romance as their blessing, two hearts vowed once more. This time, not by fate, but by love.
