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youarewhatyoulove-blog · 1 month

Text

the violence of the dog days.

pairing: jeongguk x reader

summary: In the midst of summertime, after a week of neglect, your boyfriend has a way of making you feel even more heated.

you're hot and horny for jeongguk.

rating: mature🔞 (minors please dni)

genre: non-idol au, college au, established relationship, smut, fluff, pwp

word count: 9.2k words of unadulterated smut.

warnings: reader and jeongguk are absolute horny simps for each other, but they're also so inlove, soft boyfriend jeongguk (because yes that is a warning), jeongguk is a law student (oof), overuse of the petname 'baby', reader hasn't been getting it seven days a week😔, switch jeongguk (kinda), hair pulling, hickeys, making out, thigh riding, nipple play (jeongguk is proudly a boob guy), religious imagery because jeongguk worships reader like a god, usage of the words 'c*nt' and 'p*ssy' (because i know some people are iffy about that), cunnilingus (f-receiving), jeongguk is low-key a sadist y'all (in his fantasies), a bit of dom/sub dynamics, prayers for reader because jeongguk's got that big d🙏🏽, unprotected sex, doggy style, degradation, a teeny weeny bit of overstimulation, creampie - like this is just pure smut guys 😬, possessive sex, choking, aftercare, reader kinda hints at having attachment issues (but don't we all).

author's note: 1. please ignore any typos :). of course, i'd appreciate any feedback or constructive criticism. but if you find yourself uncomfortable by any of the themes in this fic, there's no need for hate, just kindly move on. 2. also, this is a lot longer and softer than i intended. this fic was supposed to be purely hard smut, but i fell in love with the characters and their relationship, and some aspects of the story just turned out sickeningly sweet - so proceed with caution.

You're an hour into tossing and turning when you can't take it anymore.

The heat.

With June coming to a close end, the surviving remnants of summer creep in through your bedroom window with barely a whisper of a breeze. It clings to every part of your skin, that ever-lingering humidity thickening the air, and wraps itself around your body like a cloak. For some reason, you thought that scrolling aimlessly through the various apps on your phone would help distract your mind from the muggy weather or maybe, by some miracle, even lull you to sleep.

But it hasn’t—of course it hasn't. Because summer is here to stay, burrowing deep within your bones and making a home there. Each passing minute is a testament to that, insomnia creeping up your spine with ill intent and wriggling into every cranny of your mind until you feel like you're losing it.

Perhaps you are, you think.

Because when the desk fan a few feet away suddenly stops whirring and the fumbling grasp you had on sleep slips from your reach like a fleeting dream in the morning light as a result of it—drifting further and further away—you hit your breaking point. The lack of white noise and cool air blowing your way mounts your frustration into place. It hangs there in the ether like a looming shadow but, unlike your slumber, has no plans of deserting you.

With an annoyed huff, you drop your phone back onto the nightstand for the umpteenth time and kick your leg out from under the duvet.

“Fuck.” You sigh, rolling onto your back.

A thin sheen of sweat lingers on the surface of your skin, causing the sheets to stick uncomfortably to every part of your body. You spread your limbs out like a starfish in some futile attempt to cool them down, hoping that you'll catch a draft, but the action only reminds you of how largely cavernous your bed feels right now.

The space beside you is missing a particular doe-eyed boy and, as your hand brushes over the empty spot, you realize that it's not so much the seasonal heat that's making you feel weirdly restless, but rather Jeongguk's absence. In an inconveniently clingy way, you need his body settled next to you at night, your legs and arms a tangled mess beneath the blankets.

You don't know why that is. Why sleep eludes you like a compass without direction, unable to find its way to you when Jeongguk isn't near. But you don't mull over it or give the thought a foothold to stand amongst the endless anxieties already in your head.

All you know is that cuddling up with him in the evening is perhaps one of your favourite pastimes. Akin to a baby with it's bottle, falling asleep in his embrace is something you've grown incredibly used to, maybe even a little dependent on—like a security blanket or night-light—and there's nothing you can do about it.

Sneaking a glance towards the dim light spilling in from beneath the bedroom door, you picture Jeongguk on the other side. Chances are, he’s still where you last left him. Sitting cross-legged on the couch with a laptop balancing carefully on his lap, eyebrows scrunched together in concentration, as he catches up on coursework.

You worry your lip, the thought of your boyfriend causing your mind to wander...

He looked so good tonight; adorned in a pair of grey sweats and a baggy t-shirt with his tattoos fully exposed. His dark hair was strewn across his forehead, falling into his eyes in a way that made your fingers itch.

You, on the other hand, are sporting an old, oversized shirt you opted to steal from Jeongguk's wardrobe to combat the high temperatures, but it hasn't helped much. The heat still loiters, creeping up the back of your neck and imbuing your cheeks with warmth.

It makes you long for winter, for the bitter nip of frosty ice and pelting rain, and the desire for that inadvertently reminds you of that fucking silver lip ring Jeongguk had gotten recently.

The memory of its cold, metal sting against your lips as he kissed you goodnight sends a distant, carnal hum coursing throughout your veins. It's probably tugged anxiously between his teeth right now whilst he types away, eyes deadset on the screen before him, and the image of that sends you reeling. Makes your skin flush further, yearning to feel its steel bite again.

For some reason, it propels you into motion, skin prickling as you throw your legs over the edge of the mattress without a second thought.

The last thing you want to do is bother his progress or interrupt his work, but selfishly, you persist. That gnawing feeling deep within your chest is too hard to ignore, heart beating voraciously with each step you take because it longs to be satiated by Jeongguk's presence. Your boyfriend is only one room over, just four thin walls separating the two of you, yet still—you miss him, want him.

Treading lightly, you hear the persistent click-clack of his keyboard and the muffled sound of typing only grows louder as you step out into the hallway. The wooden flooring is frigid beneath your feet, a sensation you immediately relish in as soon as the fiery crawl of discomfort across your skin begins to lessen. Your shirt—or more precisely, Jeongguk’s shirt—falls flat from your waist, landing a few inches above your knees, as you wander further into the apartment.

Just as you’d predicted, Jeongguk is all pretzelled up on the sofa, too focused on his work to hear you enter. A few empty bottles of soju and convenience store snacks litter the coffee table, serving as silent witnesses to the length of time he's been out here. He must have dimmed the lights as well because a faint, warm glow shrouds every facet of the room, making him look particularly soft at this hour.

You walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around the length of his shoulders as you bend over the couch's headrest to envelop him in a hug. ”Hey,” You hum softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Jeongguk startles slightly at the contact, shaken from his deep concentration as he angles his head to look up at you. “Shit, baby. You scared me.” He breathes, voice rough from disuse. It rumbles through you like a distant thunderstorm, body vibrating with electricity.

“Sorry,” You murmur, glancing at the assignment he's been working on and tiny pangs of guilt gradually trickle into your stomach. “I didn't mean to disturb you, but-”

“You're not disturbing me.” Jeongguk instantly reassures, scanning your face with a knowing look. “Can’t sleep?” He asks and you nod, burying your face into the crook of his neck. The scent of his body wash immediately encompasses you like a warm embrace, wild pinewood and bergamot invading your senses.

“I thought you’d be in bed by now.” You mumble against his skin, unable to hide the pout in your voice.

Jeongguk frowns, eyes flickering to the time at the bottom of his laptop screen.

Shit, he hadn’t even noticed how late it’s gotten, the hours skulking along the cusp of a new day. He should probably be turning in for the night, head to bed and worry about this project tomorrow, but he’d rather not postpone his responsibilities. Not when you’re staying over the weekend and he could be spending that time with you instead.

“I know.” Jeongguk responds, hand coming up to intertwine with yours. “I’ll be there soon, okay?” He promises, bringing your knuckles to his lips. The featherlight kiss he presses there soothes you like a curative balm.

“Okay,” You relent, untangling yourself from his body. “But, can I stay here for a bit? It’s too hot in there.” You half lie, gesturing towards the bedroom while simultaneously walking over to the kitchen only a few feet away.

“Yeah, of course.” He murmurs, eyes following your movements.

“Thanks, Kook.” You smile, sparing him a glance over your shoulder as your eyes sparkle with mirth. “By the way, your fan broke down again.”

“Again?” He laments, eyebrows furrowed together whilst he runs a disgruntled hand through his hair. “I seriously need to get that old thing repaired or maybe even replaced.” He grumbles to himself, before a guilty afterthought occurs at the sight of you. “Fuck, I'm so sorry, baby. No wonder you couldn't sleep.”

You don't tell him that it's not so much the heat keeping you awake but, more so, him.

“No, don't worry about it.” You settle on instead, trying to dispel his concerns. “It's not your fault.”

This isn't the first time that Jeongguk’s fan has given him problems. He's had the thing since high school; so it’s no surprise that the motor tends to give in every now and then, running a little too hot. He’s been meaning to get the issue sorted, but hasn’t really found the time to do that these days.

“Plus, I'd much rather be out here with you.” You add.

Jeongguk smiles at you so sweetly then, dimples making an appearance, and your body flushes all over, burning once again.

God, what is wrong with you tonight?

You need to calm down, cool down. At this rate, you feel like an overheating engine, bound to crash in on yourself and combust.

Grabbing a glass of ice water from the fridge dispenser, you rein yourself in, distracting your mind with conversation. “I promise not to be a bother though, like you won't even notice I'm here.” You say, before chugging the cold liquid down on the spot, completely ignorant to the way that Jeongguk drinks you in.

A welcome sight is what you are, so cute tonight with your hair all mussed, practically drowning in his shirt. “You’re never a bother.” He responds, mouth going dry when you lean back to empty the glass. The action causes your shirt to hike up, the creamy expanse of your thighs further exposed to his hungry eyes.

He feels his dick stir at the sight.

“How much longer do you think you’ll be?” You ask, wiping your lips with the back of your palm, as you place your cup in the sink and shuffle over towards your boyfriend.

“Uhh…” Jeongguk clears his throat, broken out of his stupor. He turns back to face his laptop, skimming the Word document that's open before him when he feels you nestle into his side a second later. Automatically, he brings a hand down to rest against your leg.

“I’m not sure,” He grumbles, thumb rubbing soothing circles against your bare thigh. The absent-minded touch ignites something in you, skin blazing at the contact, and you try your best to suppress the goosebumps that rise in Jeongguk’s wake. “Maybe another hour or so?” He guesses.

“Oh.” You mumble and, although you fight the disappointed curl of your lips, Jeongguk doesn’t miss the deflated look on your face.

“I’m sorry,” He squeezes your thigh apologetically, frown overtaking his pretty features. “I know it’s been a while since we spent time together.”

A week exactly, you note, but ultimately keep that detail to yourself. After all, neither one of you is to blame for being so busy, constantly caught between work and university.

You think that's maybe the reason you're feeling so needy tonight, body set ablaze by every minor look and touch from your boyfriend. In a way, you're feeling a little neglected since your relationship’s taken the backseat, not by choice but by consequence, and you don’t know how to deal with it.

“It's fine.” You shrug. "It's not like we can help it.”

You try to be nonchalant about the matter, injecting the slightest hint of indifference into your tone, but Jeongguk sees right through you.

He always does.

“Come here.” He says suddenly, voice soft as he shifts his laptop onto the coffee table.

You look up at him, confusion clear on your face.

“What?” You blink, but your question falls on deaf ears because Jeongguk merely uncrosses his legs and pats his lap.

“Come here,” He then repeats and reaches for your waist.

You're uncertain for the briefest of moments, eyeing Jeongguk suspiciously, before you ultimately give in like malleable clay in his soft hands, allowing him to pull you onto his lap with ease. “I've been working for hours.” He grumps once you're comfortably straddling his waist, hands resting on either side of your hips. “Hardly seen you since you got here.”

You hum, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth in thought. It's no secret that you've been spending a lot more time at Jeongguk's place in lieu of your ratty little dorm room. You felt bad about it at first, feeling as though you were invading his space and overstaying your welcome. But your boyfriend couldn't be happier about it. He rather likes the idea of your lives interlocking, melding together as if they were puzzle pieces falling into place. He likes that when he's working, like on nights like this, that you're just on the opposite side of the door, not one phone call or car ride away.

He likes that you're his and he is, equally as much, yours.

“I wanted to leave you to your work.” You explain, curling your arms around his neck. Your fingers absentmindedly play with the ends of his hair that have grown out and the light touch only brings about the memory of how much he has missed you these past few days.

“Well, it's about time I take a break, don't you think?” Jeongguk muses and you become hyper-aware of the way his fingers brush up your spine. “Give my girl some attention…” He trails on, eyes flickering to your lips.

You practically preen at the idea, smiling shyly as you lean into his touch. “I wouldn't object to that.” Your heart patters in your chest, beating wildly at the mere sight of Jeongguk. At the thought of him finally touching you, kissing you, quenching your thirst after this week-long drought. “I've missed you.”

Jeongguk chuckles faintly. “Me too, baby.” He murmurs, perching his head upwards to press his lips against yours.

The kiss is gentle, chaste, his plush lips feeling so featherlight against yours. You almost imagine they were never there to begin with because Jeongguk pulls away before you can truly savour the taste of them.

“You know, you look so pretty in my clothes.” He begins, large hand spreading lazily around your left hip and up your back. “Kinda makes me want to wreck you.”

“You already wreck me.” You breathe without missing a beat.

“Yeah?” Jeongguk rasps, his voice low and a little dark. It sends a thrill straight up your spine.

You nod in response, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. “No one makes me feel the way you do.” You admit, eyes flitting across his face. It's an unwavering truth—one that simultaneously scares and excites you in this quiet dead of night.

“Can I kiss you again?” The words come out as a breathy whisper; as if you've been holding on to them for too long, as if they're the oxygen you so desperately need to breathe, and Jeongguk tilts his head, bewildered frown on his face.

“How is that even a question.” He gripes, slanting his head in a means to meet your mouth halfway, but you have another idea.

You press into him instead, leaning forward, and set out to peck lovingly along the curvature of Jeongguk’s jawline. He huffs in amusement, endeared by the way you take control. Because, although he’s usually the dominant one in the bedroom, he doesn't mind when you take charge like this. In fact, he's grown to love it. Loves the way you come into your own, toying and teasing with him, until your own actions cause you to grow desperate.

It's one of his greater weaknesses, his Achilles heel, and right now, you want nothing more than to expose it. Unveil a certain side of him. The one that'll see how far you can push before he starts to push back. The one that'll give in and take you right here on this couch after he's entertained your antics for long enough and you finally beg him to fuck you.

Your body practically hums at the thought.

You map out his skin, lips brushing against the surface like you're exploring a new land. Every movement careful, every touch claiming what's yours. And it almost goes to your head—how quickly Jeongguk submits to your mouth’s assault, his body relaxing into the couch like he's letting you have your way with him.

Jeongguk doesn't tell you that he is. That your lips are a holy grail he'd happily yield to.

When your teeth graze lightly at a particular soft spot below his ear, he lets out a small groan, eyes falling closed at the sensation. You feel the sound roll through you, the ache between your legs becoming hard to ignore when you think about the fact that you've roused that melody from his mouth.

It spurs you on, makes you want to hear it again and again. You want to paint the entire column of his neck red and then watch your confession of love fade to a bruised purple in the weeks to come. You want to rediscover all the ways that you can make Jeongguk sing, and the way your body dances to his tune in turn. Your lips lap him up, kisses becoming indelicate with desperation, teeth nipping with intent along his upper jaw, tongue tracing over the skin before you repeat all these gestures twicefold.

You can feel yourself growing wet, relish in the way that Jeongguk's hands tighten around your form. “Shit,” He mumbles and your body crows. Without pause, you shift against his lap and move to the neglected side of his neck, targeting the skin there. You can feel him getting hard beneath you, your core situated right above his growing erection, and it causes a shiver to run down your spine.

You plant a few messy kisses against his throat, nibbling vehemently, but then Jeongguk tuts and pries his eyes open before you have the opportunity to really sink your teeth into him.

“Baby,” He warns, curling a hand into your hair to form a makeshift ponytail. “No marks. I've got a presentation on Monday.” He says and pulls you back by an inch. His movements are somewhat hesitant, voice rough, like he's not entirely sure he truly wants you to stop.

But he has to. He can't afford to show up to class on Monday and present the most important project of his life with hickeys all over his neck.

“Next time.” He promises, but you consider outright ignoring him for a second, even though it's nonsensical, like some twisted form of punishment for a week of neglect.

But it’s Jeongguk—Jeongguk who’s been extra stressed lately about completing his degree. Jeongguk who’s carving time out of working on his big assignment right now—one which, not only counts forty percent of his grade, but could also earn him an internship at one of the top law firms in Seoul if he's lucky enough—all to pay special attention to you.

So, “Fine.” You give in, albeit a little petulantly, and brace your hands against his chest, face feeling flushed. “I’m sorry. I just wanna be close to you is all.”

“I know. Me too.” He rasps, grip on your hair loosening a touch, but not completely. “We don't have to stop though, just don't mark me up.” He explains, free hand rubbing up and down your thigh.

“Okay,” You slide your palms up his chest, feeling the toned muscles tense beneath your touch. “I really love you, you know?”

Jeongguk's eyes soften, a hint of a smile creeping up on his face. “I know,” He hums, tugging at your hair in a way that makes your scalp tingle. “But I don't think it comes close to how much I love you.” He rasps, using his grip as leverage to pull your head backwards until the delicate skin of your throat is exposed. “It's incomparable.” He murmurs, placing a single kiss on the side of your mouth before he travels south, lips peppering across your jawline.

You shiver, hands twisting into the thick material of Jeongguk's t-shirt. You want to tell him that it's not a competition, that you'd love him until the sun stops rising and, even if this one week of distance had been more, you know that he feels the same.

But the heavy palpitations in your chest causes the words to dissolve on your tongue because Jeongguk pulls the collar of your shirt to the side a second later, exposing more of your skin, before he traces a path along your décolletage. He's touching you like a starved man, mouth just as desperate and feverish as you’re starting to feel.

A stuttered gasp escapes your lips, your hands moving upwards, unsure of where to be, when he nips at a particularly sensitive spot. You settle them on his shoulders.

“Jeongguk,” You moan, the tingling between your legs maturing into an unbearable ache.

“I know, baby.” He abruptly pulls away from your clavicle—lips red, eyes blown. “Tell me what you want.”

His demand goes over your head because you don't know what you want; can barely think straight with the lingering feeling of Jeongguk's lips on your neck. With the growing wetness sticking uncomfortably to your panties. With the burning, hot embers laying at the base of your stomach, begging to be set ablaze. And Jeongguk knows that. Knows that you're neither here nor there, only somewhere in the middle, teetering on the line of endless choices. So he lets go of your hair then, manoeuvres your body until you're straddling only his left thigh.

“Don't think about it, baby.” He murmurs, both hands moving to your hips. He guides them back and forth, slow and gentle, with just enough pressure to relieve that desperate throbbing in your pussy. “Just feel.”

And you do, sinking into your own little bubble, a paradise as impenetrable as the gates of heaven. You take your time to grind up against him, moving in tandem with the flow of his hands and a soft whimper climbs up your throat at the sensation of your clit brushing against the firm muscles of Jeongguk’s thigh. You're already so soaked, underwear absolutely sodden from the relentless pendular motions of your pelvis, and when you look down to find a dark, damp spot beginning to stain Jeongguk's sweatpants, you can't help but intensify your movements.

It should be embarrassing, how quickly you've become turned on, how much you're dripping, when Jeongguk's barely touched you, but instead you just feel liberated. Pure power coursing through your veins because your boyfriend has given you the reins, is letting you use his body like a bitch in heat, and it's exhilarating; intoxicating every facet of your mind.

“That's it,” Jeongguk purrs, deserting your hips once you gain momentum to instead sneak both hands up the hem of your shirt.

Your breath escapes its chambers when he trails past the soft curve of your waist and straight to your breasts. “Fuck, you're so beautiful.” He grunts, gaze intent on your every reaction, like he's watching artwork unfold. His nimble fingers circle your nipples, tracing them with the most tantalizing pattern, until they begin to harden.

“Please,” You choke, clasping his shirt in between your fists like it's some sort of lifeline. You're not even sure what you're begging for, pace quickening as you ride Jeongguk’s thigh more aggressively. Every rut forward sends sparks shooting throughout your body, nerve endings alight, and when Jeongguk pinches your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, your back arches in pleasure. A throaty moan penetrates the room otherwise filled with nothing but your uneven pants and the sound of Jeongguk's voice.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” He groans, hands inching towards your shirt’s lower seam. He drags it over your torso, itching for better access to your breasts. Even in your muddled state, you meet him halfway, raising your arms above your head until the damned thing is off and you're left in nothing but your lacy underwear.

You hardly have time to adjust to the humid air hitting your torso, when Jeongguk tips his head forward, enveloping your right nipple into his mouth with reckless abandon. The response is instantaneous, a strangled sob slipping past your lips at the feeling of his warm mouth encased around your stiffened peak. His tongue swipes across your nipple, shockwaves manifesting at the blissful contact, and you don't know how much longer you're going to last—an embarrassing feat you don’t ponder on too much.

Instead, you squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the attention Jeongguk pays you. Whimpering when the pads of his fingers move to fondle the nipple of your forsaken breast while the other submits to his mouth’s pleasurable torment, each purposeful pinch causing them to tighten all the more. Your skin feels like it's on fire, the warmth of Jeongguk's touch igniting the cinders glowing from deep within your belly. “I-I think,” You swallow, your pussy rubbing deliciously into Jeongguk's leg. “I think I'm going to come soon,” You manage to admit through a repressed whine, voice so strained it sounds foreign even to your own ears.

You don't think you've ever hit an orgasm this quickly. You've never had to. Because you and Jeongguk are like inseparable magnets; every atom in your bodies drawn to each other, always connecting like two poles seeking the other out—never going more than a few days without some form of intimacy. Never mind a week.

At least, not until now.

So when Jeongguk bounces his leg upwards to meet the force of your pussy coming down on his quadricep, adding to the way you slam into him, your clit positively throbbing at the impact, you feel the onset of that familiar coil in your stomach tightening.

“Just let go, baby.” Jeongguk rasps, granting you permission with one final flick of your nipples and then you're coming undone, white fiery heat flooding every fiber of your body, as you cry out his name. Only his name, forever on your lips. You feel the way your entire form convulses, the way Jeongguk helps you through it, flexing his thigh so that you can get the most out of your orgasm, and your hips buck forward—unrelenting and greedy—before they finally ease into a slow rut. Grinding into him until the receding, minuscule waves of pleasure begin to fade.

With the last few clenches of your pulsating core, you slowly catch your breath, muscles slackening as you become pliant in Jeongguk's arms, the weight of your body suddenly too much for you to bear. Your boyfriend holds you tight though, both hands moving to your waist to keep you secure.

Behind the darkness of your closed eyelids; you hear Jeongguk softly murmur your name and feel the way his hand comes up to your face, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind your ear before he cups your cheeks. “You okay, angel?” He asks, voice emerging as a hushed tone.

When you manage to tear your eyes open and give him a soft, affirmative nod, Jeongguk seems satisfied, pressing a delicate kiss to your sternum before he shifts you from his lap and onto your back in one fell, but gentle swoop.

Your head hits the soft leather of the sofa with the aftermath of your climax still lingering against your skin like crackling electricity, fuzzing up your mind. “You think you can take more?” He asks, eyes flitting across your face to get a read on your current state of mind.

You nod your head assuredly, reaching out to make a grab for his body, to bring him closer. “Yeah I can,” You say confidently, arm's snaking up his back to explore the taut muscles that reside there.

Jeongguk is hovering over your body, thigh pressed hotly between your legs, and even though you can feel the rush of arousal, brought on only a second ago, pooling uncomfortably in your underwear—you want more. You want him. “I want to carry on.”

Jeongguk studies your demeanour, casting your body and expression a careful once-over, because he wants to feel you, be in you, wants to make you see stars. But it's only a matter of whether you're able to handle that right now. He has barely had his way with you, but you already look so fucked out, so perfect for him. It makes the blood rush straight to his dick. “You make me crazy.” He rasps, eyes locking with yours as he brings a hand up, tracing his thumb along your bottom lip.

You almost cower beneath his touch, beneath the sincerity of his gaze; appraising the very depths of your being as if you were a delicate treasure, as if he were staring at a god or something of a divine beauty.

Jeongguk thinks that maybe he is; thinks you’re the light, the one thing he’d worship morning, noon and night through blind faith. And there are barely enough words in the dictionary for him to express this notion to you, so instead he settles for “I love you.” Voice as rough as the high tides, but softer than moonlight.

He feels compelled to tell you this every chance he gets, a hopeless slave to his feelings for you. “Like I've never loved anything else in my life.” He continues. It's a quiet confession in the night, not a new one, but the words mean just as much as the first time he admitted them to you.

You feel yourself melt, can't remember ever feeling this cherished. Not since before Jeongguk and hopefully, never after. “I love you too.” You murmur, taking a moment to drink in every detail of the man who has left you restless all night.

Your eyes flicker over the defined cut of his jaw. The delicate curve of his lips and the pretty mole resting just beneath it. The small kissable scar on his cheek. The feathery flutter of his eyelashes. The strands of hair that have fallen over his face, and you retract your hand from his back to push them away.

How did you ever get this lucky?

“So much.” You emphasize and your voice thickens with the weight of your words, spoken from the very depths of your soul. “More than you could ever know.” Because there aren't enough words in the dictionary to get this notion across, so instead you lift your head, planting a firm kiss to Jeongguk’s lips as if sealing a vow, a promise of forever.

Jeongguk receives your kiss like he does with everything else related to you; openly, hungrily. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip—once—twice—and you instantly become pliant under his weight. Your fingers find his hair, tangling into the dark tresses as you deepen the kiss. It’s hot and it’s heavy, and in the distant part of your mind, you register that Jeongguk tastes like peaches, most likely from the alcohol he’s been drinking.

The sweetness of his lips immediately goes to your head; drunk and euphoric, and all grace flies out the window the next second. “Touch me,” You murmur breathlessly against his mouth, fingertips skimming over the nape of his neck. “Please, I need you.”

Jeongguk groans, a husky sound resonating from deep within his throat. “Fuck,” You can feel how rock hard he’s gotten, his erection pressing into your inner thigh and it's making you delirious with need. “I’ll give you anything you want.” Jeongguk rumbles, his mouth forming a wet, messy trek away from yours to embrace the flesh of your breasts.

You want to tell him that it's him, only him you want. Puppeteering your every move, body relinquishing itself to his touch. But you don't. You can't, not when Jeongguk's teeth leave scarlet marks across your chest that render you mute, words evaporating on your tongue like sacramental bread.

“My pretty baby,” He coos tenderly and you fight the urge to rut up against him. “Always so fucking ready for me.“ He praises, kisses traveling southward and it burns, searing, everywhere that Jeongguk touches you. You think you might erupt or shatter, and nothing less, if he doesn't meet you where you really need him to, your cunt begging to be satiated with his fingers, or his tongue, or his dick—anything.

A whimper escapes your lips, an embarrassing, desperate sound hanging in the thick air, as you glance down past your heaving breasts. You watch as Jeongguk abandons your boobs, planting a trail of kisses across the expanse of your stomach, your hip bones—takes the tiny little ribbon on your underwear between his teeth and tugs. The deliberate gesture causes your panty to rise up a bit, ever so slightly brushing against your clit in the process, and you bite down on your bottom lip, holding back an ungodly moan.

You can't take it anymore, all this teasing.

Jeongguk can read it on your face; sees it in the way you swiftly tilt your head back, eyes closed, brows scrunched together. He knows you like the back of his hand, which is how he gauges that you've fallen back into a place of submission—done with the tortuous foreplay, done with calling the shots, done with delaying the inevitable. You want him to fuck you, to use your body the same way you had used his mere minutes ago. And if his dick could get any harder at the thought, it would.

Jeongguk licks his lips, slips a finger into the curve of your waistband as he murmurs, “I’m gonna take this off now, okay?”

You nod your head, not daring to open your eyes to confront the image of Jeongguk's face a mere hair's breadth away from your cunt. It's too erotic. Too much. You feel him drag the thin garment down your legs, a string of arousal following suit, and suddenly feel self-conscious, attempting to close your legs to hide how shamefully wet you are.

But Jeongguk's not having any of that.

He carelessly chucks the lacy material to the side like it’s nothing but a rag, a nuisance, and then grips your inner thigh. “Don't you dare,” He grunts, using his grasp to keep your legs apart, lifting them upwards until your knees are bent to your chest and your ankles are resting over his shoulders, giving him the perfect view of your dripping cunt.

You barely have time to register the ticklish feeling of Jeongguk's breath fanning against your core before he dives straight in, licking a long stripe across your pussy, and your hips instinctively buck up. “Shit,” You mewl, rejoicing in the way his tongue traverses from your slit to your clit, lapping up every drop of arousal.

Jeongguk groans, a sound so low, stemming from the heart of his diaphragm, when he samples that first morsel of your leaking nectar. You taste like heaven, so sweet and unbearably wet, and all just for him.

“So fucking good,” He grumbles, mouth drinking you in. His tongue is unrelenting in its efforts to devour your pussy, and the overwhelming sensation of him slurping and sucking—of him eating you out like a connoisseur tasting the rarest of delicacies—causes frenzied pools of pleasure to ripple within the base of your belly.

He keeps at it, nose brushing against your clit as a byproduct, and after a few minutes the pure, unwavering rapture of Jeongguk's tongue becomes excruciating. A feeling so good, it’s almost too much. “Jeongguk,” You wail, heels digging into the couch as you try to back away from his mouth, but your boyfriend merely hooks his arms around your legs and pulls you closer. Holding you in place; unable to run or escape from the ruthless onslaught of his tongue, from the metal bite of his piercing brushing against your lower lips. “I can't,” You cry, writhing beneath his touch.

With his grip keeping you firmly anchored, Jeongguk brings one hand down to toy with your swollen clit, fingers moving in languid, clockwise motions. “You can,” He grunts thickly, tongue slipping between your folds and prodding deliciously at your hole. “I know you can, baby.” He mumbles in between fucking your drenched pussy with his fleshy muscle.

You shake your head frantically, eyes screwed shut, as you feel the waves of your second orgasm surfacing. “Not like this,” You beg, using your hands to reach down, fingers twisting into his fluffy hair as you desperately try to push him away. “Please, I want you in me.” A sob runs free, your walls pulsating around nothing because Jeongguk is taking his time with you, teasing your opening like he's got all night. But you don't. You're close, so fucking close, you can feel it in the tightening muscles of your pelvis, in the quivering of your legs.

But Jeongguk isn't giving you enough. He isn't giving you what you need. Your boyfriend, in all his hot glory, is taking you there with his tongue, swirling insufferably along your orifice—bringing you right up to the edge of the plank with an ocean of pleasure waiting just below your feet, but then he pulls you back. Drags you from the precipice before you can allow yourself to fall in, and it causes a frustrated whine to escape your lips. You need his cock deep inside, filling you up, pushing you off the ledge and into troubled waters. Your pussy throbs at the very thought. “Please Kook,” You find yourself beseeching for the second time. “I wanna cum with you in me.”

And any thread of composure Jeongguk has been holding on to up until that point, snaps at the pure neediness burrowed within your tone.

He looks up at you; lips glistening, eyes dilated—a mess of a man. But you don't look any better—or, if you were getting a glimpse of yourself through Jeongguk's point of view, never better—skin flushed, gleaming with a fine film of sweat, lips swollen from the way you've been biting them, and all at once, Jeongguk is overcome with the desire to give you everything you've ever wanted.

“Fuck, okay,” He curses, rising to his knees and you force your eyes open at the rough edge tainting his voice, at the overwhelming relief of getting what you wished for. “But it’s going to be a bit of a stretch, baby.” He says, not having prepped you fully. It's been a while since the two of you have had sex and, if he had it his way, he would have given you his fingers first, would have warmed and widened your lubricated walls, to ease the initial discomfort of him entering you.

But you look so pretty beneath him, so impatient, and—“I can handle it,” You mollify, voice a sweet concoction of sultry persuasion.

He nods in response, a curt motion, because if he thinks about how eager you're being, about how you're willing to take a little bit of the pain for the insurmountable pleasure, he might just come right there. Might just think of all the other ways you like to hurt; of the way you'd react if his palm made rough contact with your ass cheeks, or what would happen if he handcuffed you to his bedpost and stuffed you full with a vibrator and butt plug—if he fucked you tonight with no end in sight. He wonders if you'd cry, if you'd beg him for more or want him to stop, sopping and spent. More than that, he wants so badly to find out.

Jeongguk’s dark eyes find yours, their typical doe-eyed demeanour having turned hooded a long time ago. Yours are twinkling with anticipation, watching intently as he pulls his sweatpants down, letting them hang low beneath his buttocks. His cock immediately springs free, slapping against his stomach, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip at the sight.

“Come here,” Jeongguk's voice carries a jagged intonation, raw and untamed, and breaks through you like crashing waves. But when he makes a grab for your body, his hands are nothing but gentle, hoisting you up onto your knees and positioning you on all fours.

With your ass bared before him, face pressed into the cold faux leather of the couch, Jeongguk smooths a hand down your back, watches with satisfaction as your spine yields before his touch, and then he takes a hold of his dick. Doesn't even bother giving it a few preliminary pumps because he's already painfully hard, precum leaking from the tip as he lines himself with your hole.

He doesn't put it in though.

First, he teases your little cunt with only the head of his length, not fully embedding himself within your warmth just yet. You whimper pathetically at the testing prod, fingers balling into frustrated fists, while Jeongguk watches in awe as your entrance narrows, pleading to be stuffed.

“God, look at you.” Jeongguk groans, eyes traveling from your glistening pussy to the state of your overall servile form.

He places one hand on your hip, fingers digging into the skin there, as he inches just the slightest bit forward, his dick slowly pushing into you. Your mouth parts at the sensation and you shakily prop yourself up onto your elbows, head falling forward with a moan. “So fucking needy, huh.” He goads when you attempt to meet him in the middle, subtly backing up against his pelvis.

“No,” You shake your head as if it's some sort of lie, as if you haven't been thinking about this moment since you stepped over the doorsill of Jeongguk’s apartment earlier. And your boyfriend laughs—he actually laughs—a maniacal, derisive sound that rings in your ears.

“There's no need to deny it, baby.” He drawls like smooth liquor hitting the back of your throat, a silky succour that, for some reason, has you dumbly nodding along. Because Jeongguk’s entering you more now, his dick fighting against the tight restraint of your heat, and you're too distracted by the feeling of it to fully comprehend what he's saying.

“I mean,” He continues, reaching down between your legs to gather the wetness clinging to your folds before he bends over your back, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “You’d think you've never been fucked a day in your life.” He murmurs, bringing his slick fingers to your level of sight.

You flush instantly, burning at the way your arousal dwells on Jeongguk's digits and forms a translucent web when he parts them into a V shape. “I can't help it,” You breathe shamefully, about to protest that it's his fault for letting you go so long without attention, for not taking care of your sexual needs and making you this susceptible to moments of depravity, when Jeongguk fully entrenches himself into your heat without so much as a warning.

“Aah,” Your jaw slackens at the sudden stretch of his length against your walls, the sensation so unfairly delicious you find yourself clenching around the intrusion with gasp, and your boyfriend uses the opportunity to stuff his letch-laiden fingers into your mouth.

“Clean them.” He grunts, lazily rocking forward and you choke back a moan, mouth instantly closing around his fingers. Head full of clouds, pussy filled to the brim, you obey. Your tongue licks up the juices stuck to his slim digits, gliding sensually across each one with care, and you vaguely hear Jeongguk curse below his breath, hips grinding into your core. “Fuck, just like that, angel.” He praises, allowing you to suck them clean for a few more seconds before he pulls them from your lips altogether with a lewd pop.

“Such a good girl,” He murmurs lovingly, pressing a singular kiss to your shoulder blade before he straightens to his full height behind you. “Always so perfect for me.”

Jeongguk's hands find your ass again and he gives the supple flesh a few gentle squeezes, savouring the way you whine in response.

“Please,” Your words come out embarrassingly broken and wretched, heart hammering in your chest with want, as you peek at Jeongguk over your shoulder. “Please, no more teasing. Just fuck me.”

“What do you think I'm doing?” Jeongguk asks, eyebrow raised, voice harbouring a hue of cockiness. He withdraws his thick length from your warm embrace at an agonizingly slow rate before thrusting right back in, repeating the motion steadily. “I'm fucking you right now, aren't I?”

You want to cry, your need to come so severe, it's starting to physically hurt.

Your fingers leave deep indents in the couch as you tackle the burning coals of frustration setting every inch of your body on fire. “M-More,” You stammer, feeling a pearl of arousal trickle down your thigh. You're so turned on right now, your mind an empty haze as Jeongguk edges you into oblivion, cunt so wet, you can barely feel the brush of his shaft against your walls anymore. “I need more.”

Jeongguk grins, feels the crown of his cock brush against a particular soft spot, and then decides to give you what you want. Because he loves it when you beg, when you become a blubbering mess beneath him, so cock-hungry, you forget yourself.

Without a moment's pause, Jeongguk pounds into you with unbridled vigour. His hips slap against your ass, the sound echoing throughout the room, and your body jerks forward at the impact. Your core is so drenched he's able to enter you with little resistance now. Emitting a rough, throaty groan, he fixates on how your creamy arousal coats his cock, disappearing in and out of your cunt.

“F-Fuck,” You hiss, your hand reaching back to firmly grip Jeongguk’s wrist for support, but he takes advantage of your extended arm and yanks you up until your back is pressed to his chest.

The new position gives him better access to your front and Jeongguk ghosts a hand around your waist without a second thought, smooths it down your stomach until he reaches your clit. Your body jolts the instant his fingers make contact with the swollen bud, legs quivering with the strength it's taking you to stay upright.

Your boyfriend notices your struggle and hooks his other arm around your waist, his fingertips holding you so tightly you won't be surprised if some bruises appear there tomorrow.

“Fuck, I've missed this.” He rasps, more to himself than you, whilst drilling against your g-spot. But the words affect you just the same as your pussy tightens in response, squeezing him into a death grip, and Jeongguk's hips stutter. “Jesus,” He groans, making a mental effort to stave off his own orgasm, trying to focus solely on you.

You really are going to be the death of him.

He breathes heavily through his nostrils before starting up again, slowly driving into you and his cock burrows so deep, you swear you can feel it in your uterus.

His fingers skim over your clit, tracing the nub ever so slightly because you're starting to flinch from his touch, starting to grow sensitive. And when your head falls back against his shoulder, a choked whine forcing its way out your throat, Jeongguk knows that you're close.

“You gonna come for me?” Jeongguk's lips brush against your temple, his hand deserting your pussy in sympathy to knead your breasts instead. You feel his thumb run over your nipple, static lightning steamrolling across your skin with each sweep.

“I-ah!” You can barely form a coherent sentence, the inklings of even one lucid thought slipping from your empty, fucked out mind as Jeongguk slams into you. He's setting a brutal pace, the noise of skin-against-skin undeniably obscene, but you can hardly find the will to care when the muscles in your abdomen begin to tense. They twist up like a clockwork toy, winding and winding, until Jeongguk hits a particular spot that makes your toes curl, and then you're coming undone for the second time tonight, knees buckling with the sheer force of your orgasm.

It hits you like a freight train, your body spasming. White dots of euphoria blur your vision, the pleasure so blinding, and Jeongguk's hold around your midsection is the only reason you don't collapse right there onto the couch.

“That's it, baby.” He reveres, hips never ceasing their movements even as your walls contract sporadically, determined to fuck you through it. An uncannily pornstar moan spills from your lips, mind and body having finally plunged into the silvery, stormy torrents of your climax, and the strangled sound causes something impossibly primal to rupture within Jeongguk. It thrashes at his chest like a wild caged animal, demanding release, and he recognizes the feeling all too well.

“You're mine, right? ” He finds himself grunting, voice husky with strain. The hand that was attending to your boobs instinctively ascends to your throat, squeezing slightly as he chases his own high, gives in to that grueling streak of possessiveness that only every rears its head when he has you like this—naked and vulnerable—and you groan at the familiar pressure.

You hum, walls clenching around him. “Only yours.” Your own hand reaches up, cuffing around his wrist for support as a tremor runs down your spine.

Jeongguk feels his balls tighten, the knowledge that he’s the sole witness to this side of you, so subservient and docile, sets him off the deep end.

Then you angle your head to the side, joining your lips with his. It's a messy, sloppy kiss, but the intimacy of it all causes Jeongguk's last bit of composure to crack.

He spills into you with a groan, the sound muffled by your mouth, as he rocks forward until every last drop of his seed is snug within your warmth.

The feeling of his cum bursting inside of you, length twitching, causes your pussy to flutter by reflex, milking Jeongguk of every ounce of cum, only suspending their contractions once he's thoroughly depleted.

By the end, you're both a heaving mess; chests rising and falling in unison as you come down, the electric current pulsing through your bodies fading into a comfortable hum.

Your skin is still buzzing, head befuddled, when Jeongguk presses a few lazy kisses across your shoulder—as if to ground you, to bring you back from the constellations he's painted behind your eyes.

“You were so good, baby.” He commends, smoothing the hair at the side of your profile and you can't help the soft, but dopey smile that breaks out onto your face then.

“I've been dreaming about that for forever.” You murmur, submitting to the assault of his lips. Your boyfriend chuckles in return, nuzzling your neck as he commits the smell of your skin, an alluring scent of sex and lavender, to his memory.

“Me too,” He hums, thumb gliding gently across the contour of your waist. Your sensitive pussy throbs at the light touch, rousing from the stimulation; which only reminds you of the unpleasant remnants of arousal coating your inner thighs.

As if reading your mind, Jeongguk whispers against your skin. “Let's get you cleaned up, okay?”

He eyes your figure carefully, waiting for any hint of consent before he leaves you here alone.

You manage to muster a nod and then feel his dick slip from your entrance a second later, withdrawing in a way that makes you cringe and leaves you feeling oddly empty.

“I’ll be right back.” He assures, his lips quickly, but comfortingly, brushing against your hairline. Thereafter, from your peripheral, you see Jeongguk detach himself from your side, pulling his pants back up as he disappears into the bathroom to do what he does best—take care of you.

In the meantime, you resist the temptation to slump back onto the sofa, feeling a hefty load of cum leaking down your thighs. Every muscle in your body feels relaxed, those sparks from earlier sizzling down into sleepy, smoky remnants that weigh you down. Mind a dazed mess, not sure of how much time has passed, you almost give in—the slumber you so desperately sought out at the beginning of the night finally settling into your bones—when Jeongguk walks back into the living room. He's changed into a pair of briefs and is carrying a wet cloth, as well as, a small tube of ointment.

Your body instantly perks up, a little rejuvenated by his presence.

“Hey,” Jeongguk murmurs once he's back in your close vicinity, fingers brushing against your cheeks as he peers down at you with a soft smile.

“Hey,” You tiredly grin back, pointing a finger at the items in his hand. “Those for me?”

Jeongguk hums, draping an arm around your waist to steady you. If you had the energy to freshen yourself up, you honestly would but currently, you can barely keep your eyes open. So instead you lean on your boyfriend—figuratively and literally—clutching onto his biceps as he brings the warm cloth to your nether regions. You hiss a little at the contact, still feeling delicate down there, but Jeongguk handles you with a gentle mindfulness that makes your heart swell. Makes you think back to a little over an hour ago, when you were alone in bed unable to fall asleep because he wasn't there.

And sometimes it worries you. How much you need him. How much something as simple and basic as sleep, needs the warmth of his touch to make its mark on you. How much you’ve grown to love him in the span of a few months, your life endlessly orbiting around him like the earth to the sun. How much the deepest crevices of your soul, where the vile fear of abandonment and instinctual desire to run, relinquish themselves to the light of Jeongguk’s unconditional love.

You watch him toss the used washcloth to the side before unscrewing the top of the ointment. Sigh; as his fingers, tender with purpose, apply dabs of vitamin K salve to your hips where the marks from his fingertips are starting to surface. “Shit, I'm so sorry baby.” He apologizes, the raspy, hushed tone of his voice communicating how guilt-ridden he feels. “I didn't mean to be this rough.”

And, you've never known a love like this. One that rustles through your hair like the wind on the drive down to your parents. One that meets you in the dead of winter between classes, wrapped up in coats and scarves, and coffee as the snow falls. One that kisses you goodnight, hands cupping your cheeks while the street lamps flicker outside.

One that dresses all your bruises.

It makes you want to run in the opposite direction every now and then, fleeing until you forget that you ever knew it could be this good, this safe.

But, staring at Jeongguk and the careful, intricate way he's massaging ointment onto all your black-and-blues, you bury these trepidations away, laying them to rest in the one place they belong—the past.

Because yes, you’ve never had this sort of love before—the seriousness, the commitment.

The emptied-out drawers for your clothes.

The spare toothbrush at his place.

The conversations of a future together—the clear line being crossed from fling to forever.

Even though it's a concept so scary and unfamiliar, and foreign to you—you never want to let it go.

You never want to let him go.

2K notes · View notes

mysicklove · 8 months

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AREN'T YOU JUST THE CUTEST LITTLE THING? (intro)

Welcome to my first kinktober, my loves! I've decided to make my own list of kinks for this year, so it will not line up with the official kinktober 2023 prompt list. I had a lot of fun with this, so I hope you all enjoy!

Fandoms included: mha, kny, bllk, jjk, aot

SIT. STAY. PAW. GOOD BOY! (general info)

ALL of these will be Dom! Reader. So, most of the kinks will be the character on the receiving end. I participate in aging characters up. Reader will either be: Gn! or AFAB (+Fem). It will be mentioned in warnings. Each fic will be released at 8 AM PST time and will be reblogged twice a day (most likely.)

My tag for this event is, #Barkforme!

DO YOU WANT A TREAT, PUPPY? (tag list)

Fill out this form to get notified for each post. Check out here to confirm I got you on the list!

Reblogs highly appreciated !!! <3

OCTOBER 1st | PET PLAY w/ Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugou

☆ BARK FOR ME! cw: gn! reader, collars/leashes, dog ears, reader forces katsuki to bark, reader is purposefully mean to izuku, mlm (they are forced to makeout), hand jobs, slight orgasm control, tons of sappy nicknames 5.0k

OCTOBER 2nd | SUB SPACE + MOMMY KINK w/ Satoru Gojo

☆ FIX ME cw: Fem? reader (no pronouns just use of names: mommy and mama), unreleastic portrayal of sub space, mentions of BDSM (rough treatment, degradation,whips, mistress/master use), safeword use (at the end), lots of cooing, Gojo unable to think properly, praise, comfort, clingy/needy Gojo 2.2k

OCTOBER 3rd | ORAL FIXATION + FACE FUCKING w/ Rin Itoshi

☆ BAD MOUTHING cw: reader is fem coded, gagging, lots of drool and saliva, unrealistic potrayal of oral fixations, cringey dialogue in beginning, tears, reader spits in his mouth, cumming in pants, biting 2.2k

OCTOBER 4th | SENSORY DEPRIVATION w/ Kyojuro Rengoku

☆ LIGHT AS A FEATHER cw: gn! reader, blindfold/gag/earmuffs, feather usage, ice usage, nonverbal safe word discussed (not used), implied wax play, crying, begging/pleading, reader is a liar. 2.7k

OCTOBER 5th | SPANKING w/ Eren Yeager

☆ MAYBE NEXT TIME cw: gn! reader, crying, Eren trying to be good, cursing, mean reader, slightly sadistic reader, handjob/hand humping, restraints, Eren is a good and then a brat for a bit 1.6k

OCTOBER 6th | CUCKHOLDING w/ Seishiro Nagi and Reo Mikage

OCTOBER 7th | FEMINIZATION w/ Yuuji Itadori

☆ PRETTY GIRL cw: gn! reader, men in skirts/feminine clothing, yuji being shy and embarrassed the entire time, teasing reader, praise, reader refers to him as a "she" and "her" throughout the entire thing, handjob 1.7k

OCTOBER 8th | TOYS w/ Giyuu Tomioka

☆ LEARNING EXPERIENCE cw: , gn! reader, modern-day au, vibrators, bullet vibrator, anal play, nipple clams, vibrating cock ring, reader lowkey sadistic, safeword mentioned, giyuu crying/sobbing, 2.1k

OCTOBER 9th | CORRUPTION w/ Tanjiro Kamado

☆ EXPLORATION cw: afab! + fem! reader, hand jobs, tanjiro has sexual fantasies, reader is a tease/has experience, mentions of pee, tanjiro fondles boobs lol, brief mention of sexual harassment 3.6k

OCTOBER 10th | SOMINOPHILIA w/ Levi Ackerman

☆ DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME cw: gn! reader, nightmares + insomnia mentioned, oral (m! receiving), handjob in dreams, implied age gap, set in around season 2 timeline? im kinda forgetting which season erwin was in... kissing..lots of kissing, reader being puppy coded and levi is sick in love 3.2k

OCTOBER 11th | COCK WARMING + NIPPLE PLAY w/ Suguru Geto

☆ SIT BACK AND RELAX! cw: afab!/fem! reader, reader gets called "ma'am" once, geto nipples are abused :/, bottom reader, creampie, reader is a bit of a pervert, nipple piercings mention, begging and crying 2.5k

OCTOBER 12th | SOUNDING w/ Keigo Takami

☆ SO FULL cw: gn! reader, sounding, HEAVY sub/dom spaces, hints of sado/masochism, mentions of anal fingering, keigo crying and twitching, cursing, pee/urine mentioned throughout 1.9k

OCTOBER 13th | DEGRADATION + COCK STEPPING w/ Douma

OCTOBER 14th | LEG HUMPING w/ Ryomen Sukuna

☆ ONE TIME THING cw: Gn! Reader, Yuuji and reader r dating (Yuuji x reader), lots of threatening of death/small violent acts,, reader slaps him, sukuna has 2 cocks in his true form, heavy power dynamics, mention of subspace, previous cuffing, small mounts of blood 4.4k

OCTOBER 15th | HYBRIDS w/ Megumi Fushiguro

☆ PURR OF AFFECTION cw: cat hybrid! Megumi, AFAB + owner! reader but no pronouns, reader is implied to be smaller than him, vaginal penetration, creampie, slight breeding kink, birth control mentioned and used, purring/licking/mewling, he calls you his "mate" and u tease him bout it, needy megumi 2.4k

OCTOBER 16th | PILLOW HUMPING + PHONE SEX w/ Tamaki Amajiki

☆ THE CALL BEFORE BED cw: sub! top! Tamaki, bottom! gn! reader, praise kink, slight breeding kink, reader is a slight tease and tamaki is trying not to pass out from embaressment, fantasies, creampie in fantasy Y/N? does that need a tag? 3.1k

OCTOBER 17th | VOUYERISM w/ Meguru Bachira and Yoichi Isagi

☆ PARTNERS TOUCH cw: Sub/bottom isagi, sub/top bachira, mlm, anal sex, AFAB! reader because of mentions of pegging, but rest is Gn!, overstimulation, doggy style, picture taking, hand job, praise, nickname "baby" once for Isagi 3.1k

OCTOBER 18th | DRY ORGASM w/ Yuuta Okkotsu

☆ LIKE A GIRL! cw: gn! reader, multiple orgasm, sorta mentions of cnc? idk, "breeder balls" are used in a silly goofy way, pregnancy mentioned, yuuta cums a total of six times, unrealistic portrayal of dry orgasms. 1.9k

OCTOBER 19th | PROSTATE MASSAGE w/ Seishiro Nagi

☆ WHAT A STRANGE FEELING cw: gn! reader, anal fingering, twitching, hand job, crying and drool 2.0k

OCTOBER 20th | BONDAGE w/ Nanami Kento

OCTOBER 21st | FROTTAGE w/ Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru

OCTOBER 22nd | A/B/O w/ Yoichi Isagi

☆ HEAT TALKING cw: Omega/bottom Isagi, Top/Alpha/Gn reader, omegaverse stuff (slick, claiming, scenting, etc.), isagi is in heat, readers pp could be read as strap or dick, marking/biting, slight blood, possesive behavior, instincts and stuff, isagi lowkey being feral 2.6k

OCTOBER 23rd | DRY HUMPING + CHOKING w/ Reo Mikage

OCTOBER 24th | SPREADER BAR w/ Zenitsu Agatsuma

☆ TWITCHY LITTLE THING cw: gn! reader, crying, reader kinda is pushy but Zenitsu is fine with it, VERY sensitive Zenistu, overstimulation 1.2k

OCTOBER 25th | RIMMING w/ Armin Arlert

OCTOBER 26th | PEGGING + PRAISE w/ Akaza

OCTOBER 27th | OVERSTIMULATION + EDGING w/ Megumi Fushiguro and Yuuji Itadori

☆ PICK YOUR POISON cw: Gn!/ sadistic/crazy?/meanish reader, weird amounts of cum...like a strangely alot of cum involved, frottage - mlm (ik ik i have another day for this only but i just had to include it), handjobs, bondage, megumi in subspace, megumi goes a little insane? reader checks up on him tho, orgasm denial, orgasm control 3.3k

OCTOBER 28th | EXHIBITION w/ Denki Kaminari

OCTOBER 29th | SADISM/MASOCHISM w/ Katsuki Bakugou

OCTOBER 30th | CONSENSUAL NONCONSENT (CNC) (DARK CONTENT) w/ Meguru Bachira

OCTOBER 31st | MASTURBATION w/ Izuku Midoriya

☆ LOST IN A FANTASY cw: fem/afab reader, izuku masturbates to your voicemail and pretends to fuck you, reader calls him baby, and he calls u hun, needy izuku 1.5k

TOTAL WORD COUNT: 54.3k - 21/31

#Barkforme!#kinktober 2023 #dom reader #dom! reader #sub character #sub! kny #sub! mha #sub! bllk #sub! aot #sub! jjk #x reader #reader insert #kny smut #aot smut #mha smut #bllk smut #jjk smut #kinktober masterlist #kinktober

3K notes · View notes

moonchild1 · 9 months

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jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅷ)

it's finally here! i've been working on this list for so long and honestly with the release of seven i had to reorganize it but it's finally ready soooo here's a list of the fics i've been reading lately, honestly i loved every single one of them and enjoyed it so much and i would sell my soul to get a chance to read them all over again, i've been exploring way more and reading genres i haven't read before so i am so excited to post this list, i've grown attached to alot of the series so i'm beyond excited seeing how they all play out but i hope you all connect and fall for the fics as well and experience that excitement too... remember to follow, like, comment and give lots of love to our talented writers they deserve so much love and support i mean look at all the magic they share with us!! and check out their masterlists too you might find your faves as well... as you know majority if not all the fics i rec contain smut so no minors allowed and also dni. i love that you guys have been sending me recs and questions i love hearing from you so please do keep sharing them and asking... stay happy and healthy everyone and enjoy the list till next time 💘🖤

a- angst s- smut f-fluff

series

employed by @personasintro f s a (ceo au slow burn e2l) updates on wattpad

seven days by @/kithtaehyung f s a (fuckboy jk roommate to lovers)

candles & flames by @taegularities f s a (enemies to lovers royal/regency au fuckboy jk)

ego season by @sparklingchim s (jock jk fwb brothers best friend college au)

the lucky one by @babystrcandy f s a (rivals/enemies to lovers childhood friends)

bangtan scouts by @hisunshiine f s a (fantasy au college au friends to lovers)

seven days by @/hisunshiine f s a (brothers best friend age gap fwb)

bloodline by @jjkeverlast s a (fwb au slow burn college au)

seven days a week by @/jjkeverlast f s a (fwb au college au)

dextrocardia by @jeonstudios f s a (officer au undercover fake marriage e2l)

drown for you by @/jeonstudios f s a (siren au)

as we were by @archivedkookie s a (infidelity au marriage au slow burn) ft yoongi

secret slut by @jeonsweetpea s (office au assistant jk)

moonstruck by @/jeonsweetpea s a (supernatural au slow burn e2l based on the vampire diaries and legacies)

angel’s trumpet by @hansolmates f a (idol au supernatural au)

timing by @spideyjimin f s a (dad jk past lovers au)

full stop by @1oserjk f a (divorce au parents au)

spicy n sweet by @thvhoe s a (boxer au established relationship)

the princess and the rockstar by @httpknjoon f a (rockstar au royalty au)

redamancy by @lesgetittkookie f s a (rich girl au s2l)

the ability to fathom by @hanniwrites f s a (brothers best friend idiots to lovers pining college au virgin au)

denial by @girlygguk f s a (idol au fwb brothers best friend)

safety net by @pradaksj f s a (boxer au e2l)

the forgotten spaces by @oddinary4bts f s a (slow burn e2l dancer au college au)

sinful lust by @oddinary4bts s a (threesome au) ft. boyfriend myg

over wine by @koocycle f s a (marriage au)

friday nights and take-out by @ahundredtimesover f s a (idol au s2l)

blackout by @jjungxkook f s (bf2l roommate college au)

the damsel & her knight by @jimilter f a (chaebol au ceo jk e2l)

at your service by @untaemedqueen f s a (escort au s2l ceo au)

pr disaster by @ughcore f s a (e2l actor au fake dating)

aphrodite in war by @jungblue f s a (frat boy au fake dating roommates e2l)

to err is to love by @jungkookschin f a (exes au dilf au ceo au)

live through this by @starshapedkookie s a (exes frenemies to lovers band au)

my love is here by @solemnreads f s a (unrequited love best friends slow burn)

clash by @matchagator f s a (neighbours slice of life e2l)

to what we were before, and all the things after by @orchidyoonkook f s a (prince jk s2l f2l slow burn college au)

one-shot

devoted to trouble by @/jeonsweetpea f s (spiderkook)

accidental roommates by @/jjkeverlast f s a (dilf au roommates to lover e2l)

calling you cool by @/kithtaehyung f s a (rockstar au s2l)

college nights, diner fights by @/hisunshiine f s a (e2l waiter au)

love is gone by @jeonbunnie s a (established relationship break up au)

the boy with galaxies in his eyes by @/oddinary4bts f s a (idol au fuckboy au fwb tattoo artist au)

no longer strangers by @soft4gguk f s (summer love strangers 2 lovers)

the hating game by @sxtaep s a (e2l lawyer au)

what if i love you too much? by @taleasnewastime f s a (single mom au neighbours to lovers)

jasmine by @/btssmutgalore f s (friends to lover shy jk) on ao3

please don’t go by @httpjungkookcom f a (spider kook childhood best friends)

boy's a Liar by @/thvhoe f s a (best friends bf e2l college au)

masked by @flymetothejoon s a (drummer jk s2l)

lonely hearts club by @joonbird s a (tattoo artist dystopian au)

this is how you fall in love by @jeonqkooks f s a (rockstar au established relationship)

freak-quency by @gukslut f s (rockstar au s2l)

boots by @/gukslut f s (rockstar au)

wake up call by @junghelioseok s (established relationship)

orange tulips by @kainks f s a (soulmate au reincarnation)

skirt chaser by 1kook s (f2l college au)

blueberry haze by @caelesjjk s (drummer au s2l)

cabin fever by @jeongi f s a (ex best friends unrequited love)

the millionaire and his lover by @gukyi f s a (f2l ceo au fake dating one sided love)

take what’s yours (and stay) by @kidguk f s a (f2l s2l pinning)

overtime by @cupofteaguk f s (ceo au boss au)

↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library

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caelesjjk · 6 months

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simply meant to be | jjk

☾ Title: Simply Meant to Be ☾ Pairing: pumpkin king!jungkook x fem reader ☾ Genre/AU: nightmare before Christmas au, romance, horror, smut ☾ Rating: m (18+) ☾ WC: 4.6K ☾ Warnings: this is not your average nightmare before christmas, its pretty dark and unhinged. jungkook is jack skellington. reader is somewhat of a sally character. jungkook calls you immortelle (it means everlasting), jungkook has face tattoos (you'll see), monsters, fear, seokjin appearing as Dr. Finkelstein hehe, electrocution therapy, being held against will, jungkook unalives someone, a game of cat and mouse, mentions of blood, smut in the forms of: kissing, grinding, fingering, unprotected sex, knife play, blood play, creampie ☾ Summary: you aren’t sure how any of it can be real. This place…these creatures…this man. You wake up next to a man you’ve never seen before with no memory of who he is or where you are. But everyone in town seems to know you. You belong to the Pumpkin King. Scared and utterly terrified you run into someone who claims they can help you remember. And now you’re starting to wonder if that’s truly what you want. ☾ Authors Note: hello darklings! Please enjoy my trick for the Fantasy and Fangs halloween collab! this fic became so much more unhinged than i originally planned lol. it may not be for everyone! just e sure to check my warnings before you proceed with the fic. this is heavily unedited.

Your body jolts upright, lungs immediately gasping for breath.

Panic surges through every nerve as you frantically look around at your surroundings and grasping at the thin sheet you find bunched around your hips.

You’re naked. God why are you naked? How did you get here? Where the fuck are you?

Your heart pounds in your chest as you look next to you in bed and see that someone is lying next to you. A broad back and muscular arms covered in tattoos leading up to a head of messy black hair that covers the persons face lies snoring quietly against the sheets.

“Shit.” You mumble, wrapping the thin sheet around your body as you scramble out of the bed. The man lying in the bed stirs slightly and reaches into the space where your body once was.

You don’t wait to see anything else, dashing for the bedroom door and stumbling into the very dark hallway. The only light comes from the cobweb covered candle sconces that line the black painted walls.

You adjust the sheet around you the best you can before taking off running down the hallway. There is an immediate feeling that you’re being watched and you make the mistake of turning around to look behind you.

The dark shadowy silhouette of a man stands where you had just been a moment ago. You beg your feet to move faster.

Before you reach the top of the stairs, you glance back over your shoulder once more to see what you can only describe as a jack o lantern grin light up and stretch across the face of the man taking his time moving towards to you down the hallway.

“Where are you going, immortelle?”

A voice comes into your mind and almost causes you to fall face first down the winding spiral staircase in front of you.

“Please leave me alone.” You beg as you rush down the stairs. You don’t make it far before you suddenly feel hands gripping at your ankles. Hands with claws….some covered with slime…reaching from under the stairs and tearing at the sheet keeping your naked body from being exposed.

You scream until your throat hurts. Kicking at the hands as you continue to fight your way down the stairs.

“You know how much I love chasing you, baby.”

Somehow you manage to make it to the bottom of the stairs, but you almost wish that you hadn’t when you fall against the front door and throw it open.

You must be hallucinating with fear.

Outside the sky is black and grey swirls of clouds in constant motion, you know if you stared too long you’d become dizzy. Instead, your eyes wonder around to the bare trees surrounding the house you just made your way out of. Just a few leaves hang on for dear life as the wind quite literally howls through the air.

Down the crooked stone steps in front of you is a huge iron gate with two giant pumpkin designs bent into the bars. Gargoyles sit atop every stone post surrounding the house.

Wasting no more time, you descend the stairs until you’ve reached the iron gate, shaking the bars when it doesn’t budge.

“Please open. Please.” You shove with your shoulder as hard as you can and the gate loudly creaks open just enough for you to squeeze out into the open street.

You turn around and shove the gate back shut, looking up at the top of the stairs where the man who had been chasing you through the house now stands with a smile on his half tattooed face and his arms crossed over his bulky bare chest.

You can see even from here that the tattoos on the left side of his face are skull like features. It’s absolutely terrifying.

He lifts a hand in a wave as he menacingly tilts his head to the side and smiles.

Fuck this.

You wrap the blanket tighter around you and take off down the street without a single clue as to where you are. Anywhere has to be better than where you just were.

You spoke too soon again.

The sight in front of you as you round the corner is just as terrifying as that house and that man.

There are monsters, literal monsters, standing in the streets. Selling items at market booths. Chasing their children on the sidewalks. Laughter…and screams. It’s a terrible mix of sounds.

You freeze as a bouncy ball belonging to what you can only assume is a swamp monster child rolls against your feet.

“Happy first day after Halloween Ms Y/N!” The little creature says, staring at you expectantly.

Your instincts tell you not to scream. If you scream it will only make things worse.

“You know my name?” Your voice shakes and so do your hands as you continue holding the blanket around your body.

“Are you alright, miss?” The child’s mother appears behind him, looking at you with concern.

“I um…I should go.” Your bare feet move to cross the street, making you pause when you step in something wet. You know that it’s blood before you even look down. Vomit threatens to fill your mouth but you continue walking away, dragging the train of the sheet you’re wearing through more of the bloody streets.

More monsters stare at you as you go. Some with long sharp teeth and claws that could easily slice through a normal humans delicate skin. Some walked on two feet and some slithered across the ground like sickly serpents.

“Are you lost?” A horrifying witch grabbed your arm and tried to pull you back into the street.

“No, no I’m just on my way somewhere.” You lie the best you can, yanking your arm away only to immediately see deeps scratches from her long nails.

“So sorry miss.” She cackles, moving to join two other witches who were waiting for her on the other side of the street. They all continued their uneasy laughing until you turned the corner up ahead.

As you turned the corner you ran hard into something. Or someone it would appear when you looked up.

“What are you doing out here in nothing but a blanket, Y/N?” The man asks, pushing a pair of glasses up onto his nose.

This man had stitches across his forehead and down around his neck. Like some kind of Frankenstein’s monster, he’s been sewn together.

“Do I know you? Why does everyone here know my name?” You step back to put space between you and the monster.

“Ah, I see. Come with me.” He turns and begins walking but stops when you don’t follow. “I can help you. Come.” He holds out a hand, and while you don’t know what the fuck is happening, something tells you it’s okay to trust this stranger.

You take his hand.

“Who are you?” You finally ask.

“I’m a friend. Dr. Kim Seokjin.” He swings your hands between you in a silly way. “You usually call me Jin. Sometimes Jinnie.”

“Jin.” You repeat, the name feeling familiar on your tongue. “Where are we going?”

“To my lab. I have things that can help you there.” Jin turns another corner and up ahead you can see a tall crooked tower looming in the distance.

“Your lab is in there?”

“It is. Don’t worry Y/N, I promise you’re safe with me.”

You swallow hard but continue to let Jin lead you inside the tower and up, up, up the long spiraling stairs until you reach a door that he slides open.

Inside is a room filled with equipment and various experiments. Glass beakers filled with colorful liquid bubble and burble over small open flames. Sparks fly from wires that connect to different machines and some that connect to nothing at all. There are also several control panels at the center of the room with gurneys situated next to them.

“What kind of doctor are you, Jin?” Your voice shakes a little.

“The helpful kind.” He answers with a menacing grin on his face and a flicker of something slightly insane in his eyes.

“Wh-what do you have here that can help me?” You look down at the dirty blanket still wrapped around your body.

“First,” he grabs your hand again and leads you to a side room that has a cot with some folded clothes lying on top of it, “you can use those clothes to change into, okay? Whatever you want.”

“Thank you.” You step into the small room and turn to face him. “Is something really wrong with me? Something that makes me not remember?”

“Everything is fixable. I’ll have you as good as new in no time.” Jin winks and closes the door behind him so that you can change in private.

You dress in a daze, still feeling very off kilter from everything that’s unfolded from the moment you opened your eyes. Flashes of the man you woke up next too and his terrifying tattooed face race across your memory and leave chills over your skin.

“Ready now?” Jin calls from outside the door. You take a deep breath and walk back out into the laboratory. “Why don’t you take a seat on one of those?” He motions to the gurneys at the center of the room.

Reluctantly, you walk over to them and sit on the thin mattress. It crumples under your weight and immediately sends a sense of dread swimming into your veins.

“How can you fix me?” You barely get the sentence out before Jin is next to you, situating your arms at your sides and wrapping leather straps around your wrists. “What are you doing?” Panic thick in your voice.

“This is how we fix you. Bite this.” He puts a leather strap up to your mouth.

“Are you crazy?! I’m not doing this. Let me go!” You pull against the restraints, thrashing your head and body in an attempt to get the fuck away.

“I know it’s a little frightening. You do this every time. One of your only flaws.” Jin shakes his head, sounding disappointing.

“Flaws? What are you talking about!?”

“You’re my creation. I made you.” He tilts his head and smiles, “and you’re absolutely perfect except for that mind of yours. It resets. Forgets.” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Creation?! I’m a human being! I’m not some experiment! What is wrong with you?” Hot tears starts to leak from the corners of your eyes and blur your vision.

“You’re so adorable sometimes.” Jin yanks on your restraints to tighten them, “sit still, Y/N.”

“You’re hurting me.” You whimper.

“You think that hurts?” Jin smiles before he begins sticking sticky pads to your head and neck. “Just wait.” He whispers into your ear.

You’re such an idiot to have trusted this monster. You were so sure that he was good. A friend. He felt like a friend when you saw him. Familiar.

“Please…don’t.” You beg just before he forcefully shoves the piece of leather between your teeth.

“You’ll thank me soon.”

Terror freezes your body as you watch him slam down a lever on one of the control tables, green electric waves traveling down the wires and entering your body in trembling shocks.

You don’t know how long you lay there, screaming through the pain before you pass out from how much electricity Jin lets pass into your body. But eventually the room goes black and the last thing you hear is Jin manically laughing from across the room.

“It’s getting worse.”

“I tweaked some things this time. I’m hopeful it lasts longer.”

“It better. I’m tired of losing her.”

You hear quiet voices as you begin to come to. Voices that you recognize almost immediately.

“Jungkook?” Your voice croaks. Almost immediately the door to the small room slides open and the silhouette of the only person you want to see fills the doorway.

“You’re okay, immortelle?” Jungkook rushes into the room and kneels next to the cot you’re laying on.

“What happened to me? Why am I in Jinnie’s lab?” You turn your head to face him when he cups your cheeks in his hands.

“You had another episode, my sweet.” He brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles one by one.

“Episode?” Your brows draw together in confusion.

“You forgot who you were. That you belong to me. You forgot it all.” Jungkook looks sad while he explains and it breaks your heart.

“How could I forget you?” You sit up slowly and he helps you. “How could I forget my love?”

“It’s not your fault, immortelle. Don’t blame yourself.” Jungkook looks over his shoulder at Jin who stands in the doorway. Jin rolls his eyes before walking away.

“Take me home?” You ask, wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s neck when he picks you up into his arms bridal style.

“Of course.”

Jungkook carries you down the long winding staircase of the laboratory and outside where it’s pitch black besides the white melting candles inside the lamp posts along the street.

A smile pulls across your face when you see all the monsters that you love busy in the streets. They all smile back at you, tossing greetings and wishes of quick recoveries your way.

“They love you.” Jungkook whispers into your ear.

“No. They love you, you’re their pumpkin king. I’m just lucky enough to be yours.” You touch the skull details tattooed on the side of his face so he looks at you.

“You’ll be their queen soon.” He reminds you. You lean up to kiss his lips.

“Let’s get something to eat before we go home. I’m famished.” Jungkook sits you on your feet but keeps your hand in his.

Jungkook talks with some of the shop owners and you watch as he gathers all of your favorite things into a basket. Wines, cheeses, and some sweet treats leftover from the night before. You love him so.

You make your way over to a stand selling haunted dolls and look around at all the choices. You’re about to go back to find Jungkook when someone grabs your arm and twists you around.

“You’re so pretty.” The drunken vampire says, the smell of blood thick on his breath. He’s had too much.

“I appreciate your compliment, but I need you to let go of my arm.” You pull away but he doesn’t let go.

“Don’t be that way. Come with me.” He stumbles and almost falls on top of you.

“Get off of me!” You say louder but the vampire doesn’t listen, it’s nails scratching through your skin. You’re about to scream for Jungkook when he’s suddenly there, ripping the vampires hand from your arm.

“May I ask what you think you’re doing? Touching what’s mine?” Jungkook says too calmly.

“I…I didn’t recognize Ms. Y/N…I didn’t realize.” The vampire stumbles over his words.

“Is that your excuse?” Jungkook laughs, the terrifying cackling sound sending tingles through your body.

You know what’s going to happen next, and the thrill alone has you aching between your legs.

“I’m sorry, I’ll never make the mistake again.” The vampire takes a few steps back.

“Immortelle?” Jungkook looks over his shoulder to you. He’s asking a silent question that you already know the answer to. You nod yes as a smile spreads across your face.

“Remember in your next life my friend, to keep your filthy hands off my girl.” Before you can blink his hand is shooting out between them and into the vampires chest cavity. He holds it there a moment so that he can watch the life drain slowly drain from the vampire before he yanks his hand back out holding the still thumping heart in his hand.

The vampire falls to the ground in a lifeless heep, his eyes still open and eternally full of the fear he last experienced. The crowd around the market doesn’t take offense, they know if their pumpkin kills someone it was for a damn good reason.

Jungkook turns towards you, handing the heart to one of the children playing with the body on the ground. He pats their head and then slowly brings his hand up to his mouth, licking a thick stripe from the bloody palm of his hand to the tip of his middle finger, all while keeping eye contact with you.

You smile, closing the space between the two of you and claiming his mouth. Your tongue seeks out the blood that’s dropped down his chin and around his lips.

“It never gets old…watching you kill for me.” You breathe into his mouth while his blood hands lace into the strands of your hair.

“We need to get home before I show everyone here how well I fuck you.” His mouth leaves hot kisses against your neck as he leads you backwards down the street until your back hits the iron bars of a familiar gate.

Home.

The gate loudly creaks open as soon as it realizes the two of you have arrived. Jungkook stops kissing you to take your hand and walks with you up the stone stairs to the front door that also opens all on its own, the door knocker welcoming you home.

“Do you want to play?” You whisper, making Jungkook pause at the bottom of the stairs. Those tattooed details raising into a smile.

“Okay, immortelle. Let’s play.” He kisses the top of your hand before taking a step back. He slowly slips of his black and white striped suit jacket and unbuttons his shirt before it joins the jacket on the floor.

You soak in the tattooed planes of his body, the muscles begging to be touched. His dark falling over his forehead as he steps back farther into the shadows until he’s completely disappeared from your sight.

“You know what happens if I catch you, immortelle.” His voice floats into your ear from somewhere unknown. “Don’t let me catch you.”

A thrill shoots through your body again and you sprint for the stairs, loving the way the monsters and ghouls grab at your ankles and whisper your name. You immediately turn left at the top of the stairs, your mind going a million miles an hour trying to think of where you could hide.

He knows all of the good places for hiding.

In a last ditch idea, you run into your shared bedroom upon hearing Jungkook’s footsteps running up the stairs. He took this game of chase so seriously and never took it slowly.

You slide under the bed, your chest heaving in fear but also excitement. You’re hoping by hiding somewhere obvious that he won’t even think to look here and waste his time checking all of the usual spots you tend to hide.

“Where are you, immortelle?” You hear his menacing voice out in the hallway coming closer. You almost giggle. “You know I’ll find you. I will always find you.”

You hear his footsteps stop outside the bedroom door and then the door slowly opens right after, lightly hitting against the wall behind it.

Jungkook’s heavy footsteps make the floorboards creak as he walks into the room. You throw a hand over your mouth to keep from making any noises. Jungkook undoes the buckle of his belt and a moment later slips it from his belt loops and lets it clang against the hardwood floor.

“Are you soaked for me right now, my love?” You watch with wide eyes as Jungkook slowly walks around the bed. “I’ll find out soon enough.”

He doesn’t say anything else and when you look around at the floor you notice that he’s no longer next to the bed, his black boots no longer anywhere in sight. You release a long breath of relief.

And then you’re being yanked by the ankle from beneath the bed, a startled scream escaping you as you flip onto your back just in time to see Jungkook trap you with his body against the floor.

“You caught me.” You smile, lifting your hips up to meet his, desperate for friction against your core.

“Don’t I always?” His mouth is on yours, his hands pushing your dress up around your hips.

He was desperate for you too.

“I love you.” You whisper on his lips, the tattooed skeleton grin on his beautiful face turning upwards.

Jungkook sits up on his knees between your legs giving you a full view of his naked torso. Pretty muscles and flawless skin that you ached to leave your mark on. Scratches and bite marks and bruises were the only things that could make him more perfect.

Your chest heaves as you watch him reach behind his back in the band of his black dress pants to retrieve a silver shiny knife. Your pulse quickens immediately.

“Is this what you want, immortelle?” He presses the cold steel flat against the inside of your thigh, keeping the blade from cutting you just yet.

“Will you torture me?” You ask, your hands coming up to cup your breasts with anticipation.

“Absolutely.” Jungkook moves the knife farther up your skin until the point brushes over underwear. You moan pathetically at the feel of it brushing over your center and slowly sliding over onto your other thigh.

“Jungkook…” you sigh.

“Be patient. I’ll give you what you want.” Jungkook uses his other hand to undo the button and zipper of his pants, pushing them down until his perfect cock springs free from the confines.

You bite your lip at the sight in front of you. Jungkook slowly strokes himself to the sight of the knife moving across your skin. He draws the sharp side of the blade oh so gently across your stomach, so sharp you don’t even feel it draw blood. The view of you on display for him makes him groan and move his hand a bit rougher up and down his shaft.

Your fingers move on their own accord, slipping through the small pool of blood on your stomach and moving them back over your breasts to smear the crimson liquid in a trail.

“Fuck. Fuck you’re so perfect.” Jungkook moves the knife to your throat, gently leaving one long cut from one side to the other. You immediately feel warm blood leave the wound and drip down the sides of your neck.

Jungkook drops the knife to the floor and bends over your body to attach his mouth to your neck. He licks and sucks at your blood, whimpering at the taste of it on his tongue. Your body instinctively arches from the ground, your chest rubbing against his and spreading more of your blood between your bodies. It was the most beautiful visual you could imagine.

You looked down between your bodies to see Jungkook’s hand still stroking his cock as he continues to move his mouth down your body to the cut on your stomach. You can barely stand the burn in the pit of your stomach any longer, your desire for the man on top of you smoldering too hot.

“I need you now. Please.” You lace your hands into Jungkook’s hair and lift his face. The sight of his face covered in your blood, his eyes solid black with lust almost does you in completely.

“Such a good girl, saying please.” He moves back onto his knees, squeezing precum from the head of his cock before he releases it completely and picks the knife back up off the floor. You watch in awe as he brings it to his mouth and licks the blood from the blade.

“I always want to be good for you.” You say sweetly. His cock twitches at the sound of your obedient voice.

Jungkook moves the knife down between your legs and ever so carefully pressed the sharp blade to your underwear and drags it down until the fabric slices apart and reveals your absolutely drenched pussy to him. The knife clangs to the floor again and Jungkook leans back down to claim your mouth, his thumb immediately finding your clit.

Your lips part to moan and his tongue swipes against yours swallowing up all the sounds that escape you. The dripping head of his cock suddenly swipes through your folds and causes a high pitched whine to bubble up your throat.

“Is your pussy desperate to be filled, immortelle?” His hand swipes the blood on your stomach before it’s back on his cock, the blood lubing his shaft to make it easier when he fucks himself into you.

“Yes. It hurts, Jungkook.” You let your hands wander his chest and stomach, watching him watch you.

“I’m not going to last long once I get inside your perfect pussy, my love. But I need you to cum and I need you to scream.” Without warning he roughly spears himself inside you, his hands holding you on his cock as you writhe from the sudden intrusion.

“Oh my fucking god.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he starts to move, rough and hard.

“Made for me. I literally had you made just for me and you’re perfect. So fucking perfect and pliant just for me.” Jungkook’s hand comes down to your throat, careful of the cut across your skin, he gently tightens his grip.

You immediately see stars, wrapping both of your hands around his wrist to keep him in place. You gasp and moan at the feeling of him controlling your breathing and ruining your pussy at the same time.

“I’m going to come. God I’m coming right now.” The words are quiet as he continues to hold your throat but he hears you just fine, moving his hand from your throat to play with your clit.

“Scream. I need you to scream so I can fill you up.” You open your eyes to see Jungkook watching you, his hair sweaty and mouth parted. Just when you’re about to beg for a kiss he punches your clit between his fingers and your orgasm rolls through you like a hurricane.

Black and white sparks explode behind your eyes and though you can’t hear yourself, you know that you scream loud and high pitched. Just what Jungkook needs to find his own end, dropping on top of you as he continues to fill you past the brim and onto your thighs.

Dried blood scratches between your skin and his as he lies on top of you, his head against your chest and your hands roaming the expanse of his broad shoulders.

“You’re okay, immortelle?” He finally asks through his heavy breathing.

“I am, of course.” You lift his face to place a kiss to his lips.

“We didn’t even make it to the bed this time.” He laughs lightly, groaning as he pulls out and helps you sit up with him.

“I didn’t mind.” You both smile knowing he feels the same.

“I’ll never mind being with you, immortelle. Never.” He touches your cheek and kisses your lips once more.

“Even if…even if I keep forgetting?”

“Even then. We are simply meant to be, my love.”

#bts fic #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jjk

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kitten4sannie · 3 months

Text

ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴘʟᴀʏ ʜᴀʀᴅᴇʀ

ᴍᴀꜱᴋ ᴋɪɴᴋ/ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴘʟᴀʏ ➠ ᴊᴏɴɢʜᴏ

pairing: intern! jongho x boss! reader (fem)

genre: office au, smut

summary: to relieve some stress after another long day of being the boss, you decide to visit your favorite dom at your local playroom. what you were not expecting, however, was to come face to face with your office’s intern instead.

w.c: 2.8k

warnings: hard (somehow still soft) dom! jongho, sub! reader, established bdsm relationship, jongho wears a teddy bear mask hehe/reader wears a kitty one, pet names (sweetheart, kitty, kitten, are we sensing a pattern here? TT), name calling, praise/degradation, use of hand cuffs, jongho puts reader over his lap ^^, paddling (ass/pussy), spit play, hair pulling, toy usage, strength kink, manhandling, overstim, brief oral (receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: never worked in an office before but this is my ideal office ✨fantasy✨ but also like jongho would be the cutest ??? intern??? he’d just come in and give you a cup of coffee with his sweet little gummy smile ughhhhh :’) enjoy, loves!

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ᴅɪꜱᴄɪᴘʟɪɴᴇ ʙʏ ɴɪɴᴇ ɪɴᴄʜ ɴᴀɪʟꜱ

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ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

“I’m really sorry to inform you of this right before the weekend starts, Ms. L/N, but we need to see at least a 20% increase in sales by next month,” your higher-up told you through the speaker phone sitting on your desk, almost distracting you from putting on your coat.

“20%, sir?” you replied cordially, trying to dispel the attitude you wanted to give him at that moment.

“20%, Ms. L/N. You’ve been doing quite well this quarter, but my boss is breathing down my neck, asking me for more…I do apologize, but it’s what we need from you.”

You walked around the front of your desk, sitting on the edge of it to process the information, unconsciously reaching underneath the sleeve of your form-fitting blouse to rub at the rope burns still embedded in your skin from your last visit to your local bdsm playroom, wishing you were there again, not having to focus on numbers and percentages, but on the pain and pleasure that was enveloping your body.

“Ms. L/N…?” the man said softly into the speaker when he didn’t get a reply from you.

You came out of your temporary fog, sitting up straight and fixing the hem of your tight skirt, despite no one being there to witness your perfect posture. “I can handle 20%, sir. I’ll get those numbers up for you.”

“That’s why you’re my favorite branch manager, Ms. L/N. Enjoy your weekend. Make sure you unwind,” he said, exchanging goodbyes with you, before he hung up.

You were definitely going to do a bit of unwinding, that was for damn sure.

As you collected both your personal and work items, putting them into your sleek briefcase, your branch’s intern knocked on the thick glass door of your office, allowing you to see his perfectly styled, ink black hair through the section of the door that wasn’t completely opaque.

“Come in, Jongho.”

Once the permission was granted, Jongho entered your space to give you a small wave and a gentle, charming smile, resting his own briefcase against his thigh. “Just thought I would come and check on you, Ms. L/N. It’s already half past 8, you know, and you deserve your weekends more than anybody in this building.”

“Oh, please, it’s off-hours, call me Y/N,” you sighed, wishing you could swap the roles of your position in power, wanting to be the one who was told what to do next. “But, thank you…that means a lot. I always try to cram in as much R&R into my weekends as humanly possible.”

“That’s good to hear, Y/N,” he corrected himself, holding the door open for you, his inviting aura and cologne relaxing your rigid demeanor just a tad. “Shall we go?”

Once inside the sanctity of the elevator, the both of you watched as the bright red numbers on the digital screen slowly counted down.

When you got down to the twenieth floor, you were suddenly reminded of your daunting task, murmuring, “20%…and next month he’ll want 30…that bastard…”

Jongho acknowledged your passive mumbles about the ridiculous increase in sales you had to somehow pull out of your ass, hoping to ease your mind with his straightforward statement, “Hey, no number talk in the elevator, Y/N. That stays in the office.” His gaze softened. “You know better.”

You quieted down, hoping Jongho couldn’t tell how wet you suddenly were, offering him a gentle chuckle. “Right, no more numbers.”

Jongho tilted his head to the side, his gelled, parted hair falling into his eyes a bit. “Tell me, what do you do to unwind, Y/N?”

Your fingers squeezed around the handle of your briefcase. You couldn’t possibly tell him that you enjoyed getting tied up, punished till you were drunk on pleasure, and fucked by masked men and women until you reached your own personal nirvana, now, could you?

“I like to do lots of things,” you began, turning your head to look at him, realizing he was already looking at you, his gaze intense, but grounding. “Anything that doesn’t make me feel like a corporate drone anymore.”

Jongho nodded knowingly. “It’s important to let go from time to time. To relinquish that power you hold.”

You nodded at his words, unconsciously licking at your lips, having to break eye contact with Jongho first, your attention going to the adorably small teddy bear keychain he had on the handle of his briefcase, smiling at it. “What do you do for fun, Jongho?”

The corners of his lips curled into a smile that you weren’t looking at, his eyes returning to the rapidly lowering numbers on the wall, gently cracking his knuckles to fill the brief silence. “These days, I like to do a bit of roleplaying.”

“Like…DND?” you asked, swallowing dryly, the ding of the sliding elevator door about to draw you towards it.

“Something like that,” Jongho replied, his smile now akin more to a smirk, following you out of the elevator into the lobby.

࿏࿏࿏

“Good to see you back, Miss Kitty,” A man with deep-set eyes, plump lips, and short, choppy hair greeted you at the playroom’s lobby, the rest of his features obscured due to the bunny mask he was wearing. He leaned forward against the sleek receptionist desk, resting his chin on his palm as he pulled out a cutely decorated day planner, his tight butler get-up creasing to accommodate his new position. “Who would you like to visit today?”

“The Bear,” you replied instantly, shifting your weight from foot to foot, your own equally tight office ensemble making you feel constricted in the best way. “Is he free right now?”

The handsome bunny butler opened the planner and used a pen with a small plastic bunny at the tip to write in a time and date, drawing a few hearts around the words. “He’s always free for you, Miss Kitty,” he replied smoothly, before walking over to the door with a key and unlocking it for you. He placed another key, this one with the image of a cartoon bear on it into your hand, giving you a suggestive, though cordial smile. “Enjoy your stay.”

Once past the lobby, you were faced by many other rooms and doors, each one presenting you with a cute cartoon caricature of various animals. You immediately walked towards the one that displayed the same bear as the one in your sweaty hand.

Upon unlocking the door, you were met by a familiar setting. Minimalistic bedroom furniture decorated with lace doilies and soft, plush teddy tears filled the inviting space, the only thing keeping it from completely embodying someone’s sweet grandma’s bedroom were the egregious amount of sex toys, paddles, and whips that lined the wall, small plastic teddy bears decorating the handles of some of the items to further complete the cutesy aesthetic.

The only bear that interested you, however, was the one sitting on the edge of the large mattress in a simple black suit that looked a bit too familiar, his large thighs threatening to rip through his perfectly tailored pants, his sleeves rolled up past his thick forearms, his pretty raven hair falling past the sleek plastic of his mask that was complete with teddy bear ears. “It’s such a joy to have you back in my playroom. Now, what are you in the mood for today, kitty cat?” he asked you in a low, calculated tone, licking over the top row of his teeth.

You felt a shiver go up your spine, taking slow steps until you stood in front of him, licking your lips at the sight of his hands settling on his thighs. “To be paddled and fucked raw, sir.”

Jongho nodded his head knowingly, reaching up to stroke the side of your hip. “Mmm…my kitten’s had a rough day, I see. I’ll be sure to take good care of you tonight.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” He stood up, cracking his knuckles out of habit, opening and closing his fists to prepare for what he was about to inflict on you. “If at any time, you want this to stop, you’ll use your voice and tell me to, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, good.” Jongho slowly walked over to the wall, his loafers clacking against the wood floor, picking out a paddle and a few other items amongst the large selection. He twirled the paddle around in his hands, gazing back at you through his mask, piercing you with his dark eyes. He kept his sight on you as he made his way back to the bed, spreading his thighs open when he sat down. “Now, you know the drill, don’t you, kitty?”

You nodded, quickly positioning yourself across his lap, feeling delightfully petite and usable now that you were relinquishing yourself to your dom.

“That’s right, sweetheart, feels so nice being on my lap like this, hm? Your pussy’s dripping for me just from the thought of getting paddled red, isn’t it?” Jongho spoke, his voice coming out slow, draping over you like honey, rubbing the side of your upper thigh in gentle circles, watching the way you squeezed them together.

“Yes, sir,” you answered breathily, squirming around once his hands were on your ass and squeezing it roughly through your thin skirt.

“Did you bring a change of clothes, pet?”

“Yes, s–”

Rip.

Jongho had torn through your designer skirt up the middle with one swift tug, sighing at the sight of your ass squeezing through the torn material, running the edge of the paddle over the exposed skin. “How many, kitten? How many till your ass is raw and red for me?”

You closed your eyes for a moment, your cunt pulsing steadily, knowing what you needed for your own personal satisfaction. “Twenty…”

Jongho’s eyes widened slightly behind his mask, running the broad side of the paddle down your ass, using his other hand to tear open sections of your tights. “Twenty it is, pet.” He then wrapped your hair around his hand to create a makeshift ponytail, pulling it back to watch the way you arched your back for him, your ass raising higher up in the air for his own personal satisfaction. “Time to count.”

Twenty paddles is what you asked for and twenty paddles is what you received, each and every one sending a supreme jolt of pleasure through your body, your fingers squeezing into Jongho’s thick thighs, drool leaving your moaning mouth the second he got to double digits. He rubbed the paddle over your bruising ass in between spanks, rubbing the wetness around your partially clothed cunt from in between your trembling thighs, his cock hard and pressing into your abdomen. “Your pretty pussy deserves to get paddled too, doesn’t it?” he asked you in your ear, squeezing your clit between two fingers, suddenly tearing your panties open, giving him direct access to your dripping cunt, finishing his power move with a direct slap to your slit, making you gasp.

“Six…teen…Please, sir, give it to me,” you requested, looking up at him with shiny eyes through your cat themed mask.

Smack. Rub. Smack. Rub. Smack. Jongho turned your cunt into a puffy, leaking mess with ease, giving you one last, incredibly hard smack on the ass with his paddle, before he reached over for the bubblegum pink toy that was sitting on the bed. “Such a good kitty, taking everything I give you. You need something inside you now, yeah? Something to fill up your tight little cunt?”

A few beads of sweat dripped down your temple past your flushed cheeks. “Twenty…God, yes, please, sir.”

Jongho smiled to himself, suddenly lifting you up and maneuvering your body like you were a simple doll, positioning you on the bed so that your lower half hung in the air along with your gushing cunt, your ankles near your head. He turned the toy on, letting it vibrate inside his calloused hands, too busy sending a few strings of spit directly onto your heat. “Take it nice and deep for me, kitty,” he directed, holding you steady for him, the toy slipping directly into you.

You moaned in response, grasping tightly at the sheets, unable to do anything except take the vibrator as deep as it would go, the ribbed edges of it pleasuring your tight inner walls. “Fuck, gonna cum for you, sir…”

“Not until I tell you to,” Jongho reminded you, relentlessly dragging the toy in and out of you, occasionally taking a break in between thrusts to watch the way your cunt contracted around nothing, taking the opportunity to send a wad of spit inside your hole, plugging you back up with the toy each and every time.

It was when Jongho left the toy fully submerged inside your cunt with the vibration set on max that you were actually going to lose your mind, your fingers digging painfully into your own thighs. “Please, can I cum, sir? I’ve been so good, so good for you,” you babbled, tears pricking at your eyes.

“Yes, sweetheart, you’ve been an absolute doll for me. Now go on and squirt, kitty. Give me your milk.” Jongho removed the toy completely and replaced it with his hot tongue, fucking your hole and rubbing your clit in quick, tight circles until you screamed, your hot arousal spraying onto his face and wetting his hair, some of it dripping down his mask.

“Thank you, sir, thank you so much,” you sighed out, completely melting against the bed, blinking hazily up at him.

“Anytime, doll,” he replied softly, readjusting his mask, a familiar smile gracing his glistening lips.

Once you recovered, you got up onto your knees, pawing at Jongho’s pulsing cock through his work pants. “You still haven’t fucked me raw, yet, sir…”

“And I clearly haven’t done my job,” he began in a low voice, straddling your lap, positioning your wrists above your head, a soft click resounding in both of your ears, having handcuffed you to the bed. “If I had, you would have no memory of anything…” He bent down towards you, his lips ghosting along the skin of your neck, the heavy metallic sound of his belt being popped open filling the silent air next. “…except for me, and pleasure I give you. Isn’t that right, kitty?”

“That’s right, sir,” you purred, spreading your thighs open further for him, encouraging him to grasp and grope at them once he took his aching cock out, letting it sit heavily on your abdomen.

“But does your pretty red cunt remember the shape of my cock, kitten? After all these times I’ve fucked you completely raw and filled you with my load, it’s surely had to, right?” he asked you softly, as though he hadn’t said such a dirty thing to you, spreading you open with two fingers, pushing the head of his cock into your willing hole inch by inch, eventually filling you up to the brim.

You pulled your wrists against your constraints, moaning wantonly, unable to do anything about your current situation except take what you were given, your cunt routinely getting stuffed with Jongho’s thick cock until you were babbling incoherently. “Sir…! So good, your cock, it’s so good!”

“I know it is, kitty,” he nodded, strands of his wet hair occasionally brushing over your face, pulling his hips back and expertly slamming them back into you, forcing a fresh wave of slick out of you, which formed a rim around the base of his throbbing length. “You’re so tight around my cock, so ready to take my cum inside you…”

“Please, please, please…” you whined, tugging and tugging at your restraints, your body pulsing with indescribable pleasure the longer Jongho pumped himself into you like a well-oiled machine, not even realizing when your mask began to fall off your sweaty, flushed face.

Jongho was in the same state as you, overwhelmed with pleasure, his own mask slipping down the slope of his nose, the tie around his head loosening with each deliberate, though sloppy thrust, your slick, joined bodies melding into one over and over. “Cumming, kitten, cumming inside your pretty cunt,” he groaned out, holding your hips with a cement grip, looking deep into your eyes.

And just like that, you both fell apart completely, your overflowing arousal mixing harmoniously with the seemingly endless cumshots Jongho pumped into your clenching cunt, your masks having fallen off long ago. You simply gazed at each other in pure awe, sweat dripping along your flush bodies, the soft click sound of handcuffs being unlocked joining the background noise of pants, moans, and the steady stream of mattress springs squeaking underneath the moving bed.

࿏࿏࿏

The elevator took its time lowering you and your intern down to the bottom floor of your shared work space at the end of another tiring performance, regrettably filling a role you wish you could be at the receiving end of instead. The numbers on the small digital screen grew more and more irrevelant the longer you and Jongho shared seemingly polite smiles with one another.

Jongho tilted his head to the side, his hair falling in his face, his eyes containing a sparkle that you were fully aware of. “Are you going to relax again this weekend, Y/N?”

“Mm, yes I definitely need it after my last meeting with my boss,” you sighed out, leaning in his direction, your shoulders touching. “They’re asking for a bigger increase in sales this time…30%, they say.”

“Ahh, ahh,” Jongho tutted softly, shaking his head, the palm of his hand pressing against the small of your back, his dark eyes gleaming. “No numbers, Y/N.”

“No numbers,” you repeated gently, a delightful shiver going up your spine, the ding of the elevator reminding you of where you were currently, and where you would be going very soon. Your eyes began to gleam as well. “Except when I count for you. Right, sir?”

Jongho jingled his little teddy bear key chain around in his hand, his lips curling upwards. “Precisely, kitty cat.”

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therhythmafterthesummer · 1 year

Text

Alpha Dog (M) ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | Roomies to Lovers | Soulmate AU? 👀 Warnings: Chris’ POV, curvy/chubby MC, pet names, mentions and descriptions of werewolf mating cycles, mandatory Christopher is Intense™ warning (it’s even worse when you can read his thoughts), graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut). Word Count: ~17k sobbing | AO3 Summary: Chris had a dream since he was very young. He wanted to have a pack of his own, to build a safe space for people with views just like his. Once he managed to accomplish that, he would’ve never imagined that his next dream would arrive at his doorstep in a pretty sundress.

Author’s Note: i wanted to expand Chris’ character in this series of stories, so this monster was born ! i think it could actually be a good starter piece for my WereRoomies series, or, if anything, just a good read 🤭 if you’re reading this, hope you enjoy, and don’t hesitate to let me know what you think !

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments: It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.

Smut Warnings: thigh kink · possessiveness · a barely even present breeding kink · praising · oral [F.&M.Rec, but the M.Rec is not as detailed] · breast/nipple play · forced orgasm (F.Rec) · fingering [F.Rec] · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but reader is presumed to be on birth control] · cum eating · marking (as in, sucking love bites on someone’s skin) · intercrural · cumshot/cum on body. there’s just a lot going on i’m sorry or am i? 👀

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Since the moment Chris gained his consciousness when he was very young, he knew what he was. It was impossible not to know, when the dynamic of his entire family was basically ingrained in his DNA.

Chris was a werewolf. His mother was a werewolf, his father was a werewolf, as were his grandparents, and they were all part of the same pack since his grandparents joined it before Chris’ parents were even born.

Chris’ childhood pack was big, consisting of several different blood-related families that were being led by the same alpha. Due to the numerous members of that pack, it felt like it was more of a closed off community than a family–especially considering members of the pack that weren’t blood related would often mate with each other. Even as he grew up, Chris felt as if these people weren’t really close to him, aside, of course, from his blood relatives and his best friend, Changbin.

It wasn’t as if they were all bad people, he just didn’t feel like he could be fully himself with the rest. They were often a bit close minded when it came to werewolf ‘traditions’, with deep desires to keep humans at bay, or turn them whenever it was suitable for the pack, whenever they saw fit, regardless of the human’s wishes. Some of them would even believe in the designation hierarchy–alphas over betas and omegas, always–which was something Chris never really understood, nor supported in any way.

Thankfully for him, his blood family was quite progressive compared to the rest of the pack, and even if the others looked down on them for it, his parents decided to socialise Chris with humans from a young age. They sent him to a human school, let him have human friends–with the only condition to not reveal anything about his lycanthropy or the pack to them–and that contact with the outside world simply highlighted the fact that all these archaic customs in the pack made absolutely no sense to him.

So when puberty hit him, and his alpha nature started to really settle in him, he knew that he wanted to start a pack of his own. A pack where no member would feel judged or held back by the rest, where everyone could be equal.

It wasn’t really that much of a surprise, honestly. His parents always knew he would be an alpha–based on how thick-headed he was and how he would often lead his group of peers from a young age–so when Chris told his mother about this desire of his, she immediately supported him.

His father took a bit longer to accept it, but eventually he simply understood. ‘It’s too late for us. This pack is our family, we’ve already accepted the good as well as the bad, but you’ll always be our son whether you’re a member of it or not’, which was enough acceptance for Chris.

So as soon as he was of age and he went to university, he broke ties off with his childhood pack, and for a couple of years, he was seemingly on his own.

Some people from his childhood pack would even try to ridicule him, to look down on him whenever they met him on the streets or whenever he went to visit his parents. Chris knew it was because they thought he was crazy for being out there on his own.

What they didn’t know was that he wasn’t really alone. He had Changbin and Jisung.

Before Chris left his childhood pack he told Changbin of his idea, of his goal of leading a pack of his own, and without missing a beat Changbin immediately told him he’d join him as soon as he was of age, as long as Chris wanted him. And of course Chris wanted Changbin in his pack, he was one of the few people he trusted more in this world.

Jisung was also a childhood friend, but he didn’t belong to the same pack Chris and Changbin did at the time. He became friends with them after his pack moved away from their previous den to form a new one in the same city Chris and Changbin grew up in. His parents enrolled him in the same school as them as soon as they settled, which was how the three of them met.

As it turned out, Jisung was also unhappy in his childhood pack, he was an omega, and much like Chris’ childhood pack, omegas were viewed as of lower status than any other designation, so he was often disregarded or even mistreated. And just like Changbin, as soon as Chris told Jisung of his future plans, Jisung also decided to join them when he was of age.

So while someone outside of Chris’ circle might’ve thought he was a lone wolf, a packless misfit, the reality was that he felt happier, more at ease while he waited for Changbin and Jisung to defect, than he ever did in his childhood pack. Two years wasn’t that long of a wait–considering that was the age gap between him and Changbin–so he decided to place his focus on his studies for those couple of years on his own.

Eventually, as the three of them grew up, Chris’ pack started to take more shape. Changbin was his obvious right hand, he had this sense of responsibility and protectiveness that made him a perfect second in command. However, Jisung never even entertained the possibility of being his left hand, because, in his words, ‘I’m not cut out for that, I’d get everyone starved or killed’, which was valid in Chris’ opinion, after all, it wasn’t really in his inherit nature to lead or protect others, quite the opposite actually, so Chris let it go without much of a fight.

Jisung did offer a candidate, though. A childhood friend of his, Minho, a human turned werewolf with no real pack of his own who had no real desire to lead, but was incredibly caring and protective, and, in Jisung’s words, someone who had a heart of gold.

As time went on, as they met more friends throughout their years at university, Chris’ pack grew. With the addition of Hyunjin, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin his pack became a tight group of eight young werewolves who were simply trying to find their place in the world, a group of people who weren’t happy in the conditions they lived in before and wanted a change, a healthy environment.

Since then, Chris, Minho, and Changbin tried their absolute best to keep this safe, healthy ecosystem. And in Chris’ humble opinion, they were succeeding at that. Sure, they fought sometimes, just like any other family or pack or group of friends would, but things could always be solved one way or another. For once, Chris truly felt as if he was exactly where he was supposed to be, doing what he was supposed to do–what he wanted to do.

Aside from his supernatural condition, Chris always thought of himself as a simple man. When his mind wasn’t dominated by his wolf instincts, he’d just feel like any other dude out there. He liked to play computer games, he had friends he’d often hang out with–not only his packmates, but also people he’d met throughout his life–and he had a stable, decent paying job as a software engineer which he quite enjoyed. But he’d admit that sometimes, it felt as if something was missing… And that something was romantic love.

The topic of love and romantic relationships was quite tricky for him. He’d dated a few people in his life, but no one really seemed to stick for too long, either because he was always a bit too intense of a guy, or because they simply didn’t really understand his pack’s dynamic.

Oftentimes, especially when he dated a human, they just couldn’t really understand why his ‘friends’ were so important to him. He’d been told things from ‘you care more about your friends than you care about me’, to ‘it’s a bit weird how close you are. Y’all practically live together?’ They simply wouldn’t get it, and it wasn’t like he could reveal his condition to just anyone and explain, so those relationships would end as soon as the person showed any discomfort in regards to his pack, which was honestly for the best.

Then on the other side of the spectrum, when he dated other werewolves, it all often fell too much into the traditional dynamic of ‘you’re an alpha, I’m an XYZ, so we must be and do things this and this way’, and even if he tried to break those moulds a bit, it just wouldn’t work out.

So one day, right after another failed relationship, Chris decided to just… Let things flow. He was fine being single.

Did he have the intense need to pamper and take care of someone romantically? Yes. Did he have physical needs that he wished he could fulfil with the warmth of another person? Also yes. But he decided to bear it regardless. If he never found someone who understood him and his family dynamic then he was happy to die single. After all, his pack was, and would always be, his utmost priority.

He would’ve never imagined that it would all change once he finally realised he couldn’t live on his own.

In the very early stages of Chris’ pack, they had to decide where their den would be. Changbin’s parents were well off, they owned a handful of buildings throughout the city, so with a bit of convincing, they let Chris, Changbin, Jisung, and anyone that came after settle in one of their buildings at a discount price.

For a couple of years, the three of them lived in the same flat, but as more people joined Chris’ pack they kept rearranging themselves to get the best comfort, leaving Chris in a flat of his own, which was great at the beginning. He had his own space and privacy, and for a while, it was fine.

But when his grandparents passed away, leaving a huge house under Chris’ name, things changed. Between the expensive utility bills of his flat, and what he had to spend upkeeping his house in the woods, he just never had money to spare. He had to accept the fact that he needed a roommate, but everyone was already settled in their own living arrangements within the den, and he didn’t want to disrupt any of his packmates with this.

One day, during a phone call with his mother, Chris told her of this predicament of his, and she offered to help find a suitable roommate–as long as Chris wanted her help, of course.

He trusted his mother’s judgement, so he agreed, and next time she came to visit him, it looked like this woman had seen an angel come down from the heavens, because her face was glowing, and she exclaimed the most overly excited ‘Oh, honey! I got the perfect candidate. Remember my coworker’s daughter I always talk to you about?’

How could he not remember her coworker’s daughter when his mother tried to bring her up at least once whenever he came to visit? Of course he remembered you. His mother had met you a few times, always described you as a ‘beautiful, sensible, young woman’, and honestly sometimes Chris wondered if she was trying to set him up, especially when she’d conveniently mention how ‘you really need someone like that in your pack, pup… A sensible, caring figure would do you all some good, especially a female one. There are just too many males at your den, I don’t know how you get anything done…’

It honestly didn’t surprise him that much for her to say that, she was surrounded by incompetent males all the time, always had to pick up their messes, so she’d gotten quite radical on the importance of female figures… Chris just didn’t really care about the gender of his roommate or his packmates at all, so he decided to follow through with her suggestion.

Apparently, you had been looking to move out of your mother’s house, or that was what your mother told Chris’ mother, so considering you were someone his mother already knew who seemed to be nice enough, he said fuck it and told his mother to give you his number, requesting for her to ‘not get too excited. I just need a roommate, mum. For all I know she might not even integrate well, maybe she’d hardly ever be home… Relax, I’m not getting married, jeez…’ Which his mother honestly didn’t look too convinced about.

He expected nothing of it, really. He wasn’t even sure if you’d call, but a few days after he had that conversation with his mother, you finally called, and you both arranged a time for you to come visit so you could see the place for yourself.

He was, admittedly, a bit nervous, mostly because he didn’t want to make his condition known, or to make you uncomfortable in any way. After all, he was just an unknown man you were coming to meet and possibly live with.

When the day finally came, the moment Chris opened his door and met you he realised three things:

One, that you smelt like flowers. And not in a perfume way, more like in your natural scent way. Everyone had a different scent, it was typically more noticeable to him in other werewolves than humans, but humans most definitely had a scent, and you smelt just like freshly picked flowers.

Two, that you had a smile that could easily outshine the sun. When you smiled your cheeks would round up, and your eyes would disappear, and it was just such an endearing gesture it was hard for him not to focus on it.

And three, that you had the most scrumptious body he had ever seen.

Chris often prided himself on being a rational being, with a lot of self-control even for someone with a condition just like his, but as soon as he took in the shape of your body, it was almost as if he could feel his human mind short circuit and hear his inner wolf howling in desire.

He’d never been much of having a ‘type’ when it came to his partners, at least not physically. Sure, there were certain attributes he preferred, but in the grand scheme of things he’d fancied people with all different types of looks. That day, though, as he struggled to make coherent sentences and act normal while he showed you the place, Chris realised–quite puzzled, he might add–that maybe he did have a type, and maybe that type was you.

“So, this is the living room… As I mentioned on the phone, my friends often come to watch movies or just hang out. Don’t worry, though, they’re good people and very respectful. But I could totally understand if that’s something you can’t deal with”, why did you wear a sundress? Sure, it was starting to get hot out, but did you even realise how good that dress looked on you? You must’ve, there was no way you didn’t know how good you looked… Would you notice how hard he was trying not to look at your cleavage? He hoped you didn’t.

“If they truly are as nice as you say I don’t think I’ll mind, to be honest… If I move in I’d just… Prefer if they didn’t enter my room, I guess? Other than that I don’t mind”, you sounded genuine when you said it, and that did ease Chris’ worries a bit.

He took his sweet time showing you the place, the bathroom, what would be your bedroom if you moved in, even his bedroom, the kitchen, the pantry, the laundry room… All as an easy conversation flowed between you two, all as he struggled massively to not focus on the movement of your hips when you walked, to not focus on the sudden impulse he had to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you close.

Stop being a creep, Christopher… She’s a person. A person with feelings, stop being a creep… He repeated to himself every time he caught his eyes wandering, and for the most part, he was succeeding. At least, until you sat down on one of the kitchen stools and crossed one leg over the other, making the hem of your dress rise a bit, exposing the skin of your thighs.

This must be a test, he reasoned with himself.

The universe was trying to test his self-control by presenting you to him, all pretty, kind, and with the softest looking thighs he had ever seen. Chris could feel his hands literally itching with need, wondering if you’d feel as soft all over as you looked, but he quickly shoved all these thoughts as deep as he could within himself, focusing instead on the things you were telling him.

You were so nice. Just as his mother had told him, you seemed to be very sensible, very down to earth, and those traits made it so he had no reservations about having a human like you living with him. Sure, Chris knew it would be difficult to keep his condition hidden, but regardless of that immediate reaction he had to your presence, there was just something in the back of his mind telling him that having you here would be good for him and his pack, so he decided to follow that gut instinct, telling you you could move in whenever, and in a week’s time, you did.

It was honestly a bit odd at first. Chris had been living on his own for a while, and sure, his packmates would often drop by and stay over, but having an unfamiliar scent at home was certainly weird the first couple of weeks. Even then, he’d admit it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. If anything, it just added a bit of life to the otherwise silent–and sometimes lonely–space.

You quickly got acquainted with his friends, Chris supposed it was hard for you not to when they spent so much time coming to his flat, and somehow you never really seemed to question it. At one point, you even adopted their mannerisms.

Chris’ pack was very affectionate, he’d be the first one to admit it. Pet names were a constant thing among the pack, cuddling was a must, and even if you still didn’t know about their condition, you simply accepted their loving, overly affectionate behaviour as the norm, and even embraced it.

The fact that Chris and his friends were werewolves was something he had decided was best for you not to know, at least not from the get-go. He told his packmates he just didn’t see the need, that it could be dangerous–in reality, he just didn’t want to spook you. He feared that the moment you found out of their lycanthropy you’d leave, and even if he wasn’t sure why, he just didn’t want that to happen, so he would often conveniently dance around the truth whenever their condition was involved.

A month after you moved in, Felix suggested to have a movie night, simply saying ‘we haven’t had one in a while, and I could really use one to unwind!’ It had been a really long week for Chris, too, and he figured it’d be a good way to include you in their communal activities. So, as it was customary, those who wanted to join would come to Chris’ flat.

It was just Felix, Changbin, Seungmin, you, and Chris that night, the rest of his packmates had other things to do, so they had to skip it, which maybe was for the best, that way all of you wouldn’t have to cram on the sofa.

Felix had promised to bring a big box of macarons from his workplace, and he delivered. The box was filled to the brim with an assortment of different flavours–not an elegant presentation by any means, and some of them got crushed on the way, but that wouldn’t stop any of them from devouring each and every cookie.

When he placed it on the kitchen counter and opened it, Chris spotted the pink ones immediately. They were his favourite, but there were only a handful of them in the entire box, to which Felix gave him an apologetic smile, a ‘there just weren’t enough by the end of my shift’, and a shrug when Chris looked at him with a sad pout on his lips.

Chris took popcorn-making duties, and by the time it was ready and in its designated bowls, the vacuums he had for packmates had somehow eaten almost every single pink macaron, leaving only one in the box. He saw the scene play in slow motion as you made your way into the kitchen and reached for that last cookie.

Chris liked to give things to people, he really did, but that pink macaron had been holding together his last shred of sanity that day, so he acted quickly, snatching it out of the box and giving you a “nuh-uh, cutie. This one’s for me”.

“Aw, Chris!” You tried to reach for it, but he held it over your head, as far away from your grabby hands as he could. “C’mon! Those are so good!”

“I know they’re good! That’s why I want it”, he chuckled, pulling it further away from your reach when you tried to grab it again.

“Don’t be mean, babe”, you were pouting and everything, which had his heart clenching a bit, but you didn’t need to know that. He had to stay strong so he could have this delicious treat. “Give it to me?”

“Say please and maybe I’ll consider it”, he wasn’t going to consider it, which was why he had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. This was his strawberry macaron that he desperately needed, just the thought of the sugary cookie melting in his mouth had him already salivating.

However, Chris realised very quickly how ill-prepared he was for the situation he’d put himself in the moment you took a step closer to him, taking a hold of his hand that had been limp by his side, caressing the back of it with your thumb as you looked him right in the eyes with that pout on your lips.

“Please, baby… I really want it. I’ll bring you some tomorrow. Promise”, you brought your free hand to your heart, making a cross over it to emphasise that promise. “Please?”

For a second, he froze. His arm was getting tired from holding the stupid cookie over your head, and he dumbly stared at your face, shifting his focus from your lips to your eyes a few times. Did you… Did you know how cute you looked? Were you doing it on purpose? You must’ve known, right?

As soon as Chris started to feel his heart thump aggressively in his chest, he realised he had–very stupidly–walked himself into a corner. He had lost, and, in a poor attempt to not let you know how fast you had disarmed him, he sighed–rather dramatically–in what he hoped came across as annoyance.

“Alright, you can have it”, he brought the macaron down and held it to your lips. “But you’ll seriously have to buy me some tomorrow, yeah?”

The smile that came to your face made his heart skip a beat, and the second you took the macaron between your lips, lightly brushing his fingers in the process, Chris could’ve sworn his heart stopped completely.

Before he could even register the movement, you had moved closer, suddenly pressing a quick, loud kiss to his cheek, muttering a ‘you’re the best, darling. I’ll bring you at least two dozen tomorrow!’ before you walked away and left the kitchen to join Seungmin and Felix on the sofa.

It all happened so fast, Chris could feel his skin burn where you had kissed him, and he realised too late that it was because he was blushing. Blushing! Why was he blushing? How dared his cheeks betray him this way?

“Dude…” Chris’ head snapped in the direction of Changbin’s voice, where he was looking at him from the other side of the kitchen counter, with the most insufferable grin on his face.

“Don’t”, Chris grumbled as he lifted a finger in Changbin’s direction, which only made Changbin’s grin widen. Grabbing the biggest bowl of popcorn, Chris decided to ignore his friend’s teasing eyes completely, finally leaving the kitchen to place the bowl on the coffee table and sit his ass as far away from you as possible. He could still feel his face burn, which made it all so much worse.

That night, after everyone left, after you retreated to your room and Chris was finally able to lay in bed, completely alone with his thoughts, he couldn’t stop thinking about that moment.

About the way your eyes were almost sparkling when he told you you could have the damn cookie, about the look of delight on your face when he fed it to you, about the damn kiss… It was all just a friendly gesture, really. You were just being nice, like you always were, but as his mind recounted the moment in an endless loop, he eventually realised that all those things he felt the day he saw you for the first time had just been warning signs.

He tried to push all these thoughts to the back of his mind again. You were his roommate. His human roommate who had no idea what Chris and his friends were. It was stupid of him to think about you as anything other than that, and yet, the more he interacted with you, the more time passed of you living with him at his den, the harder it became to ignore what he felt, especially whenever you went out on dates.

His logical, human side always tried to brush off the fact that you were dating people. After all, sometimes, you did come back home looking happy, as if you even had fun, which was a good thing. But his idiotic, wolf side just hated whenever you came home smelling like other men. He couldn’t–and wouldn’t–stop you because of it, of course. That would’ve been absolutely insane of him to do, but one day, when he saw your laundry hanging on the drying rack he just couldn’t help himself…

Chris figured scenting your clothes wouldn’t hurt, right? You wouldn’t notice… And other people might not even notice, either, but he just wanted you to come home and still smell like him, and frequently, that worked. He’d admit he even grew a bit more shameless about it as time went on, hugging you or kissing your forehead before you left the house to leave his scent on you–something you never really questioned, either.

Whenever his pack members commented on it, Chris simply told them it was for protection, to keep you safe from other wolves–he wasn’t sure if they believed him, considering they wouldn’t stop teasing him about it every time they could…

By the fourth month of you living here, he was sure he had mastered the art of Ignoring His Feelings.

He would still scent your clothes, especially on nights like this one, where you were going on a date with some guy. But other than that he was doing an excellent job at not thinking about you in any ways other than platonic–or at least, that was what Chris tried to tell himself.

Truth was, he still had those impulsive thoughts from time to time. Soft. Nice. Pretty…

He would quickly stop his train of thought whenever he caught himself, disregarding the almost instinctual way his hands flexed whenever he looked at you. Tonight, before you left, he tried his best to absolutely ignore the dress you were wearing and how good you looked in it, and how it hugged your curves so nicely, and the way your thighs looked in those tights… Would he ever be able to touch them? Squeeze them? Maybe even kiss–

The sudden sound of growls startled him, breaking his train of thought. Chris chuckled, amused by the way Hyunjin, Jisung, and Jeongin chased their tails while running in circles in the middle of his living room. “What the hell are you even doing?”

“They’re trying to see who can catch his tail faster”, Felix replied simply, taking a sip of the soda in his hand, slinging an arm over Chris’ shoulders.

“You’re gonna hurt yourselves. Stop that”, Minho grumbled from the kitchen, where he and Seungmin prepared snacks for the night.

Among the growls coming from the three spinning wolves, and the constant talking between the rest, Chris failed to hear the sound of the front door opening. It took him a second too late to be hit by the smell of your floral scent, and by the time he had registered it and jumped to his feet from where he had been slouching on the sofa, it was too late.

You stood wide eyed by the hall, looking between the three wolves in the middle of the living room. For a second, everyone froze, looking in your direction, and before Chris could even say anything, he stared in horror as Jeongin started to shift back into his human form.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Jeongin had the nerve to say to you, as if he wasn’t buttnaked, as if he hadn’t just shapeshifted right in front of your eyes.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times. Your gaze shifted from the two wolves and Jeongin to everyone else in the room, landing on Chris last. He saw your hands tremble a bit, and, in an instant, before he could even register the movement, you were bolting out the door.

Chris immediately sprung into action, chasing you, calling for you. “Wait!”

You weren’t supposed to be here. You had a date. You were even prepared in case you wouldn’t even come back tonight, or, at least, that was what you told Chris before you left earlier that day. Panic brewed quickly inside of him, he really couldn’t let you go like this.

Chris caught up to you on the stairs, right on the landing between one floor and the other. Taking a hold of your elbow, he tugged you back before you kept going on your way. “Wait! Listen–”

“What the fuck?!” You tried to pry yourself away. In a different circumstance, Chris would’ve let you go on the spot, but this was no ordinary situation, so he simply tightened his hold, keeping you in place and within reach. Your eyes widened, and he saw immediately the exact moment you realised the extent of his strength.

“Listen to me. It’s not–”

“Don’t you dare say that!” Your eyes frantically roamed his face, and the combination of confusion and fear he could see in your eyes made his heart clench. “What does it look like, then?! Huh, Christopher?!”

Chris opened and closed his mouth a few times, but the words wouldn’t come out. What should he say? That what you saw wasn’t real? That you must’ve misinterpreted it all? That would’ve been the right thing to do, wouldn’t it? But as he looked into your eyes, he just couldn’t find it in him to lie to you.

“I just saw Jeongin’s body twist and turn in ways I would’ve never even imagined were possible!” Your lower lip was trembling slightly, the words that came out of your mouth were unsteady, and your scent was starting to tint with what Chris could only define as panic, which in turn was making him panic. “What the fuck was that about?! What are you people?”

“I– We–” The words just wouldn’t come out of his mouth. He should’ve had a plan for this, it was only a matter of time for you to find out their little secret, but he truly hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

Upon his unresponsiveness, you tried to pull yourself away from him again, and Chris couldn’t help but tighten his hold on your arm in response. He hadn’t meant to, but he was going into fight or flight and his body seemed to be trying its absolute best to keep you from leaving.

You winced, and the grimace on your face started the alarm bells in his head. “Chris… Please. It hurts”.

Chris let go of your arm as if it had caught on fire, and when you brought your other hand to soothe the area he had been holding onto, when he saw that look of discomfort on your face, he couldn’t help but feel incredibly guilty.

He’d failed you.

He hurt you, he failed you, and the amount of distress that realisation brought him was quickly taking a hold of each and every single one of his nerve-endings.

“God, I’m so sorry”, Chris took a step back, avoiding your eyes entirely. “So, so sorry… I didn’t mean–”

“What are you, Chris?” Your voice trembled again, but it didn’t seem like you’d run away.

With a deep intake of breath, Chris tried to find the courage to look you in the eyes again. “I’m… I’m a werewolf”.

You blinked, looking him up and down, looking at him like he had three heads. “A… A werewolf?”

“Mm… Only Jeongin shifted when he saw you, probably out of stress or because he panicked… The three wolves… It was Hyunjin, Jisung, and Jeongin. We’re all werewolves”.

“Werewolves… As in… Half human, half wolf? Like in fairy tales?” You sounded genuinely incredulous, and Chris couldn’t blame you.

He shrugged, tucking his hands in his short’s pockets, looking away from you again, fixing his gaze on the floor. “They’re not just fairy tales. There’s a whole world of creatures out there you don’t even know about, but it’s there”.

“Can’t believe this…” You muttered to yourself, threading your fingers through your hair, tugging the strands between your fingers.

“You… You can’t tell anyone–”

“Who the hell would I tell?!” You chuckled, a chuckle that lacked any semblance of amusement, and it made him wince.

You both stayed in silence, neither of you sure on what to say to the other. Until finally, you heaved a sigh, turning to continue your walk down the stairs. “Werewolves… This is all madness…”

“Wait–!”

“Don’t!” You whipped your face in Chris’ direction. Your hands were shaking. Actually, it looked like your entire body was shaking. “Don’t follow me”, was the last thing you told him, and he would never forget the look in your eyes that day, completely lost, void of your usual shine.

Chris just stood there for a moment, listening to the quick clack clack clacks of your heels as you walked the steps, until he finally heard the main door of the building opening and eventually slamming closed. He could feel his heart ache, just the memory of the tone of your voice and that look in your eyes made his heart race for all the wrong reasons.

Chris was at a loss, unable to comprehend how it all got out of hand so quickly. He should’ve known, this was bound to happen eventually, they couldn’t keep hiding from you forever. But what he hadn’t expected was the feeling of utter dejection the entire exchange brought him.

After a few minutes, when Chris was back in his flat, with the seven pairs of eyes staring worriedly at him, he realised he had to get a grip.

“Chris, I’m sorry. It’s my fault–” Jeongin started, looking absolutely ashamed, but Chris stopped him immediately.

“Don’t worry about it. She was going to find out eventually”, he was honestly proud at how even his voice was coming out of his mouth, and he hoped his packmates couldn’t feel the weird emotional state he was in. He shot Minho and Changbin a quick look, and they seemed to catch onto his signal fairly quickly–if the way they stiffened was anything to go by. “You guys go on. I’m… Tired. I’ll just be in my room, Yeah?”

No one seemed to question it, for which Chris was grateful. He needed some time alone to think, but even then the presence of his packmates just out of his door did comfort him a bit.

You were gone for a long while after that. The mood of the pack had almost reached the core of the planet by how low it was, but admittedly, Chris had taken the biggest blow. Eventually, everyone noticed, but no one other than Minho talked to him about it. ‘She’ll come around, I’m sure’, he told Chris one day, but it was hard for him to believe those words when he could still get a phantom of the panic in your scent whenever he was on his own.

You didn’t tell her in time. You hurt her. You failed her… His brain wouldn’t stop nagging him day and night. He tried to convince himself that there was no need for him to feel the way he did, that these things happened sometimes, but he knew it wouldn’t be that easy, he had to make it up to you somehow.

He tried to text you, a ‘hey… how’re you’ that you didn’t reply to. The rest of the pack tried to as well, explaining as much as they could, but you also didn’t reply to them. No one had been able to get a hold of you, and Chris was just losing all hope.

Until seven days after the entire thing the sound of a key going into his front door’s keyhole startled him, pumping adrenaline through his system, making him jump out of his bed. By the time you were opening the door and stepping into the flat Chris was already coming out of his room, looking at you.

“So…” You cleared your throat once you closed the door behind you, dropping your keys in their designated bowl on the bureau, and crossing your arms over your chest. “Werewolves?”

Chris nodded, staying rooted on the spot, afraid any movement he made would scare you in any way. “Werewolves”.

“Does it… Does it hurt when you shift?” Out of all the things you could’ve asked, that wasn’t exactly what Chris thought you’d ask first, not after being away for so long, but he decided to answer regardless. There was no point in hiding it now, the cat–or should he say, the wolf…–was already out of the bag.

He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest as well. “It’s not comfortable, but it doesn’t really hurt hurt”.

“Mmm…” You stayed silent for a bit, until your eyes found Chris’, and you took a step closer. “So… You guys are like… A pack? A pack of wolves?” Chris simply nodded in response, and since he didn’t say anything else, you continued. “Why would you even let me move in?”

“You’re nice”, Chris replied immediately, maybe a bit too fast. But it was the truth, so he felt like saying it. “Very nice. At the time it just… Made sense to me”.

“So, you’re like… Their leader? What’s it called… Alpha?”

Chris chuckled. “Where did you even get this from? But yes, I’m the alpha of the pack”.

“It’s amazing what you can find on the Internet these days”, you shrugged. “Did you ever even have intentions of telling me all this? Did you lie to me about anything else?”

Chris shook his head. “No, we… We’re exactly the same people you met. The fact that we are what we are was the only thing I didn’t…” Chris sighed. “Honestly? I wanted to tell you. But I was… A bit scared you’d get spooked and leave”.

“You don’t want me to leave?” You sounded genuinely incredulous, and it puzzled him.

“‘Course not”, Chris said it like it was the most logical thing in the world. In reality, it wasn’t. You were a human, a human living in a werewolf den. It seemingly didn’t make sense, but to Chris, somehow, it made all the sense in the world. “Do you want to leave?”

You looked at him for a moment. Chris held his breath, watching you closely once you finally moved, coming towards him.

Tentatively, you walked into his space, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close to you. As soon as your scent engulfed him fully, his body reacted almost on its own, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you close, and heaving an almost involuntary sigh of relief.

“I don’t”, you mumbled against his shoulder, and the way your lips brushed his bare skin had his ears heating up. He should’ve put on a t-shirt before he left his room to meet you… “You guys… Are really nice, too”.

Chris hummed, hugging you a bit tighter for a while, for as long as you’d let him. Eventually, you were speaking again.

“So… If I’m staying at this werewolf den, does that mean you’re my alpha, too?”

Chris was glad you were not a werewolf. If you had been you would’ve heard how quickly his heart started to beat when you said that. The mere idea that you’d call him your alpha awoke something in him. Something he couldn’t unpack right here right now with you in his arms.

You clearly didn’t know what that meant, you just made a logical assumption based on the little information you probably had, but if he ever heard you call him your alpha out loud he was sure he’d explode. So he decided to reach a middle ground, innocuous enough you wouldn’t be able to tell how much he was struggling with this.

“Only–” His voice betrayed him, coming out of his mouth a bit strained. So he cleared his throat, trying to act normal. “Only if you’re a member of the pack, I suppose”.

“Am I?” You asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“If… If you want. Being a member of the pack… Entitles many things. if you’re willing to abide by those things then of course you can”.

You hummed, burying your face further in the crook of his neck.

“For what is worth, I… Already see you as one. It’s been that way for a while, actually”, Chris could’ve sworn he heard your heart start beating a bit faster after he said that, and in turn his heart started to beat faster in his chest.

“Oh?” You pulled away from his neck, finding his gaze, looking him straight in the eyes. “So I’m under the big bad wolf’s protection, huh?”

Chris huffed out an incredulous laugh, amused by your choice of words, but he couldn’t help himself when the following words came out of his mouth. “Well, I’m not doing a good job at that, am I?”

You frowned. Smooth it out. Make her smile, his instincts told him, once again pushing to the front of his mind those impulses he so desperately tried to ignore.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I mean…” Chris suddenly couldn’t hold your gaze, but the way his eyes decided to focus on your mouth were certainly not making it any easier. Plump, soft, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss–stop. Focus… “The day you left, on the stairs… I hurt you. I didn’t mean to, and I shouldn’t have. I’m incredibly sorry”.

You went quiet for a moment, your eyes flickering between his, looking at him so intensely Chris could feel heat start to creep on the back of his neck, suddenly aware of how close you were. Finally, you inhaled sharply.

“I forgive you”.

Chris blinked, and his brows furrowed. “But–”

“What do you mean ‘but’?” You chuckled, untangling your arms away from his neck to cradle his face in your hands instead. “You apologised, and I accept your apology. Honestly, it was barely anything. I… Understand what you were trying to do. In the four months I’ve been living here you have never hurt me, not even made me feel uncomfortable, Chris. This is all insane, completely nuts, and I’m warning you right now, I’m gonna be super annoying about it, but I trust you. All of you. But you especially”.

At that moment, Chris pulled himself away from you entirely, hopefully before you noticed how quickly his cheeks were flushing, making his way into the living room and rambling on about how you could ask him anything you wanted and offering you dinner from what he had prepared that night for himself.

It seemed like you took a lot of interest in their condition after that.

‘So that’s why you’re so warm?’

‘That’s why y’all leave once a month? To run under the full moon, seriously?’

‘Can you eat chocolate?’

‘Would you show me your wolf form?’

‘What’s a knot?’

You were really curious, maybe a bit too much. Chris was more than happy to answer your questions, but when you started to ask about mating, and knots, and ruts, and heats, he’d admit he got a little flustered–maybe embarrassingly so. Mostly because, whenever you so much as mentioned anything that got too into the topic of sex, he’d just get waves and waves of improper thoughts. He’d wonder too much, he’d start getting worked up as if he was a fucking teenager who’d never touched a person in his life, so he tried to avoid those questions whenever he could.

The rest of the pack welcomed you back with open arms. They liked you before, but now that you knew their secret, it was almost as if something flipped in the way they interacted with you.

The first time one of them called you ‘mum’, Chris almost dug himself a Christopher-sized hole and buried himself alive. It was Seungmin who started the entire thing, because of course it was, Seungmin loved to see him struggle the most, clearly. And when you asked Chris about it, he simply told you the rest of the pack started to see you as a person they could lean on–which was half of the truth, he would’ve been caught dead before admitting to you that they were rubbing in his face how absolutely smitten he was.

He knew it before, of course. How he felt. Even if he tried to ignore it, if he tried to pretend it was all an instinctual thing because he had a pretty girl living with him, there was no way he could lie to himself for much longer. The moment you found out of their lycanthropy and you decided to stay and help, instead of running away in fear, he just couldn’t deny it any longer.

Sometimes, it felt as if the universe had taken all these qualities he could’ve ever needed in his life, all these qualities he hadn’t even realised he yearned for, and put them all in a person, put them all in you and threw you at his doorstep in a pretty sundress, as if to say ‘here, this is the one. Good fucking luck’. Honestly, in retrospect, Chris stood no chance. There was no way he wouldn’t have developed feelings for you.

Regardless of how he felt, he tried his best to be respectful, to not make you uncomfortable in any way. He really did try his best, but by heaven and hell if there weren’t moments where he almost risked it all…

Chris could still remember the first time he saw you wearing a pair of leggings. The stretchy material hugged your lower limbs so perfectly it didn’t exactly leave much to the imagination… The sight of the fabric stretched over your perfectly round bottom and your big thighs almost broke down all those protective walls he had decided to put between you and him–especially when the very first thought he had as soon as he saw you on them was to bend you over the kitchen counter, rip the thing to pieces, and dive face first into your cunt from behind.

He couldn’t help but feel guilty every time he had those thoughts about you. In his mind, you just didn’t deserve that, for some horny creep to be secretly looking at you and thinking all these lewd, dirty things about you, but the more time passed, the more he got to know you, those thoughts became more and more frequent. And the most painful part of it all wasn’t just the undeniable sexual aspect of it all.

Chris often wanted to talk to you about anything and everything, to hold you, kiss you, feed you, cuddle you, just overall take care of you, and that feeling only intensified as soon as you started to take care of his packmates, as soon as you inadvertently fell fully into the position of pack parent right next to him for real. Sure, the rest of the pack members looked up to you to some degree, and they often called you mum to tease him, but he hadn’t truly grasped the extent of it all.

Chris hadn’t noticed that was what was happening at first, but one day, he saw as you took care of a sick Seungmin so attentively it just hit him like a ton of bricks.

You were so perfect for that role in his pack, and the fact that you were doing all those things, without even being romantically involved with him made him feel both warm with love and pained with longing. He knew then that you were supposed to be there next to him, with him, but that was something he couldn’t push on you, not when it didn’t seem like you were feeling the same things towards him in the slightest.

Or at least, that was what Chris tried to tell himself, to delude himself into not overstepping those boundaries between you two. The reality was that, sometimes, Chris thought he might’ve had a chance.

Times when he hugged you tight and he could hear your heartbeat pick up its pace, or when you sent him silly memes that you thought he’d find funny, or times when you teased him, almost, almost as if you were flirting with him, or whenever you took interest in his lycanthropy, or…

He often recalled very fondly how you would snuggle into him whenever you fell asleep on the sofa while watching a movie with him. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, he’d wake up with you in his arms, with your head tucked under his chin. Those times, he’d always pretend to be asleep for as long as he could, selfishly enjoying your warmth until you eventually woke up, gave him a kiss on the cheek with a racing heart, and mumbled sleepy apologies before retreating to your room. He’d tried to convince himself that you possibly feeling the same way was all wishful thinking, so he never truly entertained those thoughts.

Even then, there were things he just couldn’t stop himself from doing. At some point, scenting your clothes just wasn’t enough for him, so he started lending you articles of clothing of his–hoodies, mostly. He would’ve loved to see you wearing his t-shirts, or his bathrobe, but hoodies were a good enough compromise in his mind. He’d always give them to you whenever you showed any sign of feeling even remotely chilly, and he soon realised that that need of having you wrapped in his scent only grew bigger the closer his rut was.

The first rut Chris went into after you moved in was, quite honestly, insane. He was able to recognise the signs early enough to leave the flat he shared with you and stay at one of the vacant ones in the building, and when it finally hit him, it hit him hard. He didn’t think he’d had such a painful rut in his life–aside from the first one, which to this day he was sure was the perfect representation of what being in hell would feel like.

Logically, he could’ve asked a friend to help him out. It was always best to deal with these things with another person there, but, somehow, the mere thought of being with someone like that after he realised his feelings for you was… Really unpleasant, so he decided to bear it on his own.

During that rut, all his inner wolf wanted was to have you. Your scent plagued his mind, the mental image of you and your thighs and your soft body had him with his fist around his cock the entire time, but it was never enough. He yearned to pleasure you, to taste you, to make you come undone for him as many times as he could, to have you in every possible way he could, to pump you full of his cum and breed you, and the fact that he couldn’t do that had him in both physical and emotional pain.

The worst part was that Chris felt like shit not only because whenever he was able to orgasm it didn’t seem to quench his desires a single bit, but also because he was thinking of you in such a way again. At the time, he was so desperate he could hardly think about it, but as soon as his rut subsided he had this immense guilt plaguing him. So much so he wasn’t able to look you in the eyes for a week straight after, so he swore he would try his best to never break your trust like that ever again.

And for a handful of months, it worked. He’d still share his hoodies with you, still have the need to hug you, and touch you, and take care of you, but whenever his mind drifted too much he’d give himself a reality check. She’s your roommate. Your friend. You’re more than just a horny dog, Christopher, he’d berate himself often, keeping his distance however he could.

It was hard sometimes, though. You’d taken this habit of looking him in the eyes… You used to do it before, too, but somehow it seemed different lately. Your gaze would linger on his for a few seconds longer than usual, enough to trigger his primal instincts, to make him want to assert his dominance–normally, that’d mean he’d want to physically fight for it, but with you, the only way his body wanted to assert his dominance was by bending you over and fucking you stupid, which didn’t help his case one bit.

It was incredibly silly of him to think that way whenever you looked him in the eyes for too long, considering that, even if you could, he just knew there was no way you’d challenge him for his position in the pack. So he’d always talk himself down of his instinctual reaction, reminding himself of who you were, of how he couldn’t let himself hurt you, or cross your boundaries in any way.

But his resolve crumbled a little over a year after you moved in, when Chris saw your freshly washed clothes messily sprawled on your bed while you were ovulating, almost as if you had prepared a pretty little nest for him to breed you in. That, coupled with the fact that you were wearing his clothes at the same time, triggered his already upcoming rut right then and there.

His mind clouded quickly, your floral scent filled every single crevice within him, making his alpha instincts kick in. Pleasure, dominate, breed, breed, breed… The words resonated repeatedly within him as he struggled to keep it together, to not jump you on the spot and do something he would regret, to not hurt you.

When he desperately tried to leave the flat, you just wouldn’t let him, you were clearly worried about him, and if there was one thing Chris had learnt about you was that it wasn’t in your nature to just ignore a friend in need. But God, you just smelt so good… It was getting increasingly harder to not act on his impulses.

You kept looking him in the eyes, and it wasn’t making it any easier, not when his instincts wouldn’t just shut the fuck up. Show her. Make her submit. Dominate, dominate, dominate…

‘Go lock yourself in your fucking room while I can still think and hold back’, he held to his last shred of sanity until the very last second, all while his humanity and his inner wolf fought for dominance over his actions during the entire interaction.

What he hadn’t expected, though, was for you to return his feelings, for you to want him. ‘What if I don’t want you to hold back?’

In a second, as soon as the words left your mouth, he finally let himself see, hear, and smell all the signs. Your flushed face, your heart thumping aggressively in your chest, the smell of your arousal lingering in the air… He simply snapped. The second you gave him your consent and he finally got a taste of you, Chris knew there was no going back for him. He was in deep.

He wouldn’t be able to get over the feeling of your lips on his, the sounds that came out of your mouth whenever he touched you, the smell of your scent laced with so much lust he was almost vibrating with excitement at the prospect of all the things he could do to you, of how good he’d make you feel.

‘Wanna be mine? Just say it, love, and I’ll make you mine. All mine’.

Claim, claim, claim… No, no claiming, Christopher. Too soon, too soon, that’s not what she needs right now…

‘Wanna be yours… Wanted to for so long, too’.

For so long, for so long, for so long… She’s mine, mine, mine, all for me…

Finally, Chris was able to let go of his inhibitions and fulfil all those desires and needs he’d had for the longest time. Not only was he able to quench his thirst with your essence on his tongue, or release all that tension that kept on building within him with the intoxicating feel of the soft skin of your inner thighs and the velvety walls of your cunt wrapped around his cock, but also he made you feel so much pleasure you were barely even able to talk and walk after he did. That simple fact had his chest swelling with pride, had him going through so many waves of his rut that by the fourth day of fucking you nonstop he could barely stand the tiniest movement around his cock.

Chris was being driven by both his emotional and physical needs the entire time, driven by his instincts to fulfil both his and your desires, but by the fourth night of his rut he had regained some of his human clarity back. It was just as you two were having a bath, as you took care of him, washing his hair–something no one had ever come remotely close to doing after he became an adult–that he came to a very important realisation.

Not only had you taken the time to understand him and the role he had within his pack, you’d taken the time to understand each and every single member in it, you supported them all in every way you could, and even though you were human, your body was able to take Chris in his most animalistic state. So it was right then, right as he looked at the soft, focused features of your face when you massaged his scalp, that he realised that the universe had really made you all for him, perfect just for him.

He’d said this to you time and time again throughout his rut, because it just felt right to say them, but only then did he realise how true it all was.

It wasn’t unheard of. It happened often in werewolves. Not to every single one, but it was often enough that he was able to connect the dots. It was said that there would always be someone out there that would be able to strengthen those areas a wolf might be lacking in. And for Chris, that someone was you.

Even when he woke up the next day, with his mind finally clear of his more animalistic impulses and desires, he knew that to be the truth.

It was a lot to take in, and if it was a lot for him who had been labelled Mr Intense several times throughout his life by both friends and partners, he was sure it would’ve been a lot for you, too. So he decided to file this for later, for it to be discussed when the time was right.

As it was now, he felt as if everything had been done backwards, so he had to start settling the foundations of a possible relationship with you–sure, you’d let him fuck you silly for four days straight, but what if you had been influenced by his pheromones? What if you realised you didn’t want him like that? That it’d be too much?

So he asked you out on a date, he wanted to take you to the seasonal fair, and to his delight–and maybe relief…–you accepted. It was almost comical how fast his heart would beat whenever you got close to him during that date, especially so considering he had already told you so many filthy, intimate things during his rut, but as you tugged him along to rides and games and food stalls, it all felt different to him somehow. More meaningful, perhaps.

That evening, when you were both walking back home, as Chris held your hand tightly in his, right under the seasonal lights that had been placed above the road, he just couldn’t help himself when he cradled your face and kissed you. A slow, sensual kiss that had his heart doing flips in his chest, and he simply revelled in the way you moved closer to him, in the way you held his coat tightly in your hands, in the way your lips moved against his.

A motion so natural he just couldn’t believe he hadn’t been doing this since the day he met you. When he pulled back, he asked you to be his girlfriend, and the moment you said yes, his heart soared, and he couldn’t help but feel incredibly giddy.

Now, Chris could hold you as much as he wanted, touch you as much as he wanted, he could tell you everything without having to measure his words, and he was so, so ready to enjoy every second of it. To enjoy every single second he’d spend with you–even more than he did before.

You were still sleeping in your bedroom, or at least, you did for the first few days after your date. That was fine by Chris, he had been making up for the lost time at work because of the ‘unexpected sick leave’ he had to take during his rut, so he was coming home late at night, barely even seeing your pretty face before he took a shower and dropped dead on his bed until the next day. It was best for you to sleep on your own so he wouldn’t disturb you. That was Chris’ reasoning.

At least, until tonight.

“Hey”, your voice made him look away from his phone and over his shoulder, finding you peeking your head from behind the door with a shy smile on your lips.

“Why are you up? You should be sleeping, love”, Chris turned, lying on his back and fixing his eyes on you.

“I missed you”, you replied simply, making your way into the room, your words effectively bringing heat to the back of his neck.

Chris let out a content sigh, watching you get on his bed and finally straddle his hips. His hands settled on your thighs, rubbing up and down in soothing motions. If only it weren’t so cold so you weren’t wearing these pyjama bottoms… They were cute, fluffy, with doughnuts printed all over them, but he selfishly wished he could feel your skin under his hands.

“Missed you, too. So much”.

You leaned into him, resting your entire body weight on him to press a kiss to his lips. Chris could definitely get used to this. To the feeling of you pressed against him, even with the duvet separating your bodies, he just loved feeling you close, especially when you kissed him so softly, so… Lovingly.

You’d been his girlfriend for a total of three days, it had been almost an entire week since the end of his rut, and you two hadn’t had sex since then. You’d told him you needed some time to recover, which was perfectly fine. Chris himself felt like he needed a short break as well, after all, getting back into his normal rhythm after a rut was always a process.

Besides that, though, your comfort was always his first priority, it had always been that way, but even more so now. He wanted to wait until you felt fine, until you were ready for it again.

Although, he’d admit it wasn’t particularly easy. Not when you looked Like That all the time and he just wanted to sink his teeth on your soft flesh any time he got the tiniest glimpse of your skin.

Sure, he was no longer in a rut, he was a coherent man, with coherent thoughts, completely capable of simply enjoying your presence without escalating any further than a hug or a kiss. But tonight, as his tongue made its way into your mouth, as your hips rolled against him, as his hands started to roam your back, only to settle on your rear to fondle the supple flesh, Chris was truly starting to feel ravenous, desperate to feel you, desperate to make you feel incredibly good.

“Chris, baby…” you mumbled against his lips, resuming your motions immediately after the words left your mouth, pressing pecks on his lips.

“Hm?” Chris took your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging gently, gripping your buttcheeks tighter, and the whimper that came out of your mouth almost, almost made him lightheaded with how fast blood rushed to his cock.

“Want you…”

Chris’ eyes snapped open, and he pulled away from you to look you in the eyes, finding your blown pupils and flushed cheeks. Beautiful, gorgeous, pretty… Swallowing, he brought a hand to your cheek, softly dragging his thumb over your skin. “Pretty… You sure? Are you feeling okay?”

“Mm”, with a hard roll of your hips to emphasise your statement, you pressed a brief kiss on his lips. “Positive. I’ve almost forgotten how you feel like inside me, baby. That’s a crime”.

Chris huffed an incredulous chuckle. “So soon? Damn, must’ve not fucked you enough, then”.

“Oh, you fucked me plenty. I just want more”, a grin spread on your lips, looking utterly shameless, and Chris would lie if he said it didn’t excite him.

“Greedy, huh?”

Before you could even attempt to bite back, Chris rolled to the side, taking you with him, effectively wrapping you in the duvet, like the most adorable burrito, and trapping you under him, eliciting a yelp from your lips with the movement.

“Not fair”, God, you shouldn’t be allowed to pout, it disarmed him way too quickly. Chris couldn’t help but peck your lips, as many times as necessary, until you started giggling.

“What? My pretty baby wants to be on top?” Chris placed a kiss on your cheekbone. Your skin was warm, soft, you smelt like your moisturiser and your floral scent, and he just absolutely loved it.

“Maybe”, you mumbled, sounding more distracted now that Chris’ lips had descended to your neck, now that he was kissing and nibbling your skin.

Your hands roamed his back, making him shiver, especially so when you dragged your fingers down his spine, finally reaching his bum, and confidently squeezing. “Why are you naked?” You chuckled, clearly amused, and Chris settled his weight on his elbows so he could look at your face better.

“I was already ready to sleep, baby. You know I sleep naked”.

“You do?” You laughed, and it made him smile. “I thought the kids were saying that just to mess with you”.

“Oh, they were messing with me”, Chris chuckled. “But they weren’t lying”.

“So… If we start sleeping together, you’d sleep naked, too?” You squeezed his buttcheek again, a bit harder this time. It was barely anything, but it was working him up way more than it should have, for sure. Chris was already hard and leaking just by your presence, by your warmth and your kisses, but even then the simple implication that you wanted to share a bed with him every night had his heart doing flips in his chest, had his cock twitching with need.

“Would you mind?” He pulled away from you enough to untangle the duvet away from your body. As soon as you were released, he tugged on your pyjama top, and you let him get it off of you immediately.

“Not one bit”, was all you replied, and Chris gave you a hum of acknowledgement just as he tugged your bottoms off.

He got, admittedly, a bit distracted. Of course you wouldn’t be wearing any underwear under your pyjamas, you were ready for bed already, but it still caught him off guard.

The marks he’d left on your body during his rut were starting to fade, and all he wanted right now was to mark you all over again. Did he have a problem? Maybe he did. As his hands made their way to cup your tits, squeezing them briefly only to finally settle on playing with your nipples, the sounds that were coming out of your mouth made it incredibly hard for him to care.

“How’re you this pretty, huh?” While Chris kept softly rolling your nipples between his fingers, your hands came to hold his wrists, gently rubbing his skin with your thumbs as you arched your back, moaning oh, so sweetly for him.

“Chris, babe…” Your hold on his wrists tightened, shifting Chris’ attention from your breasts to your eyes again. The smell of your arousal had him literally salivating, had him feeling like a hungry dog, ready to devour you whole, and when you dropped the most desperate ‘kiss me’ he couldn’t help but do just that, removing his hands from your chest to hug you close.

You whined as soon as his lips landed on yours, moulding to yours time and time again, eventually pushing his tongue inside your mouth, savouring you, swallowing every sigh and every whimper that fell from your lips. He kissed you for a while, enjoying the feeling of you holding him tightly, enjoying the way your heartbeat kept picking up its pace, until the slow, deep kisses turned messier, more eager, until he couldn’t ignore just how badly he wanted to have a taste of you.

As he started his descent down your torso, kissing your clavicle, your chest, sucking your nipple into his mouth to play with the hardened bud for a bit with his tongue, he couldn’t help his hands from roaming your body. Your thighs, your hips, your sides, anywhere he could reach.

His fingers sunk on your flesh, eliciting quiet whimpers from your mouth, just as he kept licking the pebbled skin of your nipples and your hardened buds. Chris just really couldn’t help himself from kneading and squeezing your skin, tracing every dip, every roll, every curve, until his mouth finally resumed its path further down your body.

“Baby…” You mumbled once Chris’ mouth attached to your lower belly, nipping and kissing and sucking on your skin, making you squirm.

“Hm?” Chris would admit he was only partially listening, there was not much coherent thinking going on in his brain at that moment, all he could think about was you, you, you, and your soft skin, and your floral scent, and how it was all heavily tinted with lust.

You didn’t say anything, though, you simply inhaled a shaky breath once Chris’ attention was shifting again, from your lower belly to your mound, and finally, bringing his forearms under your thighs, he pushed them towards your chest, attaching his mouth to your skin so he could repaint all those marks that had started to fade.

He vaguely registered the words ‘such delicious thighs, fuck…’ coming out of his mouth, just as he vaguely registered the whimper you gave him in response. He repeated his motions until he was satisfied with the amount of freshly made love bites on your thighs, finally directing his attention to your dripping heat.

Chris truly was just a simple man.

A simple man with simple needs.

Sinking his fingers in the soft skin of your thighs, keeping you spread open for him, he finally dived, licking a slow, fat stripe from your entrance to your clit, all but moaning at your taste on his tongue, brows pulled together in bliss.

Chris got comfortable, laying on his stomach, and slurping you up. The moans and whines and whimpers that came out of your mouth with each and every single one of his movements, the way your fingers threaded through his hair, the way your hand pushed on his head to get him impossibly closer to you, only encouraged him more. Your free hand came to rest on one of his, and he wasted no time letting go of your thigh to hold your hand instead, linking his fingers with yours, relishing the warmth of your palm against his.

“Oh, fuck…” Your legs started to tremble as soon as he eased two fingers into you, and his mind raced with the feel of your heat wrapped around his digits. So warm, soft… He wasn’t sure if the words actually left his mouth or if it was just his instincts taking a hold of his mind, but he honestly didn’t care, either.

As he started to add more and more fingers, until he was stretching you open as much as he could, your thighs clamped around his head, and Chris truly, truly couldn’t contain the literal animalistic growl that came out of his mouth, muffling against your skin as he diligently sucked your clit into his mouth and licked it with his tongue.

Letting go of your hand to grip your outer thigh, he simply encouraged you to keep that position, to borderline suffocate him with your legs, and honestly for all he cared he could’ve died right then and there, choked by the most delicious thighs he’d ever had the pleasure of touching, of kissing, of fucking–

Shit, he wanted to fuck your thighs. Would you ever let him do that again? Between the feeling of your walls around his fingers, your taste on his tongue, the sinful sounds coming out of your mouth, and the mere thought of fucking your thighs again, he could feel himself start to leak even more fluids, surely soiling his bedsheets–not like he cared much about it, to be honest.

Chris decided to ignore that thought altogether. He didn’t want to ruin the mood by bringing that up, not right now. So he shifted his focus back into the now, back to your hand tugging his hair and his fingers in your cunt and his mouth on your clit.

For a split second, he wondered if he should stop, if he should slow down to prolong this further, to eventually build you up once again and enhance your impending release. He’d been the one teasing you about it earlier, but the truth was, tonight, he was the greedy one, desperate to bring you unadulterated pleasure, so he didn’t stop.

Instead, he just sped up his fingers, thrusting harder, curling them up against that sweet spot within your walls in the exact way he’d learnt would have you curling your toes and flexing your thighs. He sucked harder, licked harder, revelling in the cries coming out of your mouth, revelling in the feel of you, all soft and warm and his.

When you came, moaning his name like the sweetest song he’d ever heard, Chris’ thoughts hazed, feeling your walls clenching repeatedly around his fingers, feeling your thighs twitching slightly around his head. And the moment you tried to pull yourself away from him, he just didn’t budge, bringing his hand from where it had been gripping your thigh to your hip, holding you tight and pinning you in place.

“Oh, fuck… Fuck, fuck, Chris, you–Shit–” Whatever it was you were trying to tell him got caught in your throat, all words replaced by broken moans and whines, which only fueled that determination that had quickly built within him. Pleasure, pleasure, pleasure, pleasure…

Chris didn’t relent until you were shaking with a consecutive high, until you tugged on his hair and begged with a breathless ‘Shit, Chris, darling, can’t handle it anymore, please…’ effectively snapping him out of it. Pulling on your thighs to get you to release your hold on him, and kissing his way up your body, Chris’ lips finally found your face, kissing away the salty tears that had run down your cheeks, only to finally find your mouth and kiss you deeply.

You let out the dreamiest sigh of relief when he kissed you, making him hum against your mouth, and as you hugged him close to you, tightly, bare chest against bare chest, his heart felt as if it was ready to burst at the seams.

“Fuck, love, you okay?” Chris wanted to check, to make sure his greediness didn’t get the best of him, and when you nodded enthusiastically, finding his lips and kissing him again, that minimal worry in his mind dissipated instantly.

“No business being that good with your mouth, fuck”, you mumbled against his lips, making him chuckle, just as you wrapped your legs around his torso, pulling him closer.

“Got a bit carried away… I can tone it down next time, if that’s what you want”, he teased you a bit with a grin on his lips, just as he held the base of his length and guided it to your entrance.

“Don’t you dare”, you replied almost immediately, pressing another loud kiss on his lips. “Want you just as you are. You always make me feel so good, baby…”

Chris hummed, content, keeping himself propped up on one elbow, kissing you as he dragged his tip up and down your folds, getting drenched in your slick. He was fully intending on not fucking you yet, on giving you time to catch your breath, he truly just wanted to feel your wetness against his cock, but when you noticed what he was doing, and urged him with a ‘if you don’t get inside of me right now I’ll cry for real, baby, please’, he simply couldn’t deny you.

Heaven, heaven, heaven, heaven, warm, warm, warm… “Fuck, it really hasn’t been that long, but I missed being inside you”, Chris couldn’t help but mumble against the skin of your neck once he bottomed out, relishing the way your walls just hugged him so perfectly, relishing how warm and snug it felt.

“Me too, baby”, you chuckled softly, threading your fingers through his hair, mindlessly playing with it.

Keeping himself propped up enough, and once his other hand found yours, linking your fingers together, Chris finally started to move. He started slow, savouring every drag of his cock against your heat just as he kept kissing you, swallowing your quiet moans.

Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he pressed slow, wet kisses on the sensitive skin of your neck, making you squirm in his hold, and the whines that came out of your mouth as you bared your neck for him had his pace picking up just the tiniest bit, had his instincts kicking in and his lips sucking purple splotches on your skin. Mark, mark, mark, mark…

It truly hadn’t been that long, but now that he was able to feel you like this again, Chris realised he had missed it more than he thought. How could he not, when you were so warm, so soft, and just so, so perfect for him in every way, and as he whispered these things in your ear, all while bringing his hands under you, one holding your shoulder, and the other holding one of your buttcheeks to keep you from sliding away from him with his movements, there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that that was the absolute, irrevocable truth.

“All yours, Chris”, you mumbled back to him, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, the reassurance alone sending sparks of pleasure up and down his spine, and when you added a “just like you’re all mine, too”, emphasised with a tug on his hair, he just couldn’t hold back the sounds that were coming out of his mouth, nor the rumbling that started to resonate from deep within him. Which, had he not been absolutely drunk on your presence, would’ve puzzled him, and maybe embarrass him a bit.

It wasn’t that common for alphas to rumble outside of their rut, and Chris was no exception to this. He could probably count with one hand the times he had rumbled after puberty. But as he continued to pleasure you, to indulge in your body, he realised his quiet, slow, almost involuntary rumble was just another sign. Another sign that he was all yours, you were all his, and nothing had ever made more sense to him in this life than those two facts.

Holding you tightly, he rolled to the side, bringing you with him so you could sit on him, making you gasp with the change in angle once he was buried within your walls again.

“C’mon, pretty… Didn’t you want to be on top? Ride me”, he mumbled against the skin of your neck, sinking his fingers on the swell of your hips. “Ride me like you mean it, love. Show me how much you wanted it”.

And you did. He attached his mouth to your chest, determined to leave as many love bites as he could like he did with your thighs, just as he could feel his body burn from the inside out while you bounced on his cock. Mine, mine, mine, mine….

Time slipped between his fingers, his mind and body lost completely on you, just like you got lost on him, exploring one another until you came once more, until you eventually got off his lap, took him between your lips and made him come in your mouth. When he borderline begged you to open up and show him, he was sure the sight of his cum pooled in your mouth would be ingrained in his brain forever, and when he asked you to swallow and you did, showing him your clean tongue right after, he couldn’t help but feel tingly all over, so incredibly enraptured by you, and your mouth, and your body, and your mind, and your absolutely everything.

After a quick clean up and more kisses and more caring words, Chris simply hugged you close under the covers, burying his face in the crook of your neck as your fingers buried in his curls and massaged his scalp softly. The sound of your heartbeat under his ear was lulling him to sleep, and when you held him even tighter against your body and he started to rumble again, he simply didn’t question it, too tired and sleepy and in love to care at all once he finally fell asleep that night.

Starting a romantic relationship with you meant that there were hardly any reservations in this flat anymore. Chris would walk around almost naked most of the time, wearing nothing but comfortable, loose fitting pyjama shorts, just as you’d do the same. Walking around topless or wearing only your underwear under one of his oversized tees, and honestly Chris was having the time of his life seeing so much of your body all the time he had to make a conscious effort to not have his hands on you all the time–he failed miserably every time, but by the heavens he was trying.

You both had decided to keep Chris’ bedroom as your shared room, whereas your room would become a study of sorts for both, since you kindly requested ‘no work in the bedroom, darling, please’, which was perfectly reasonable.

The dynamic within the pack didn’t change at all, you were already doing all the things the partner of a pack’s alpha would typically do before you got together, so the only minor difference now was that you and Chris would often engage in very shameless public displays of affection, eliciting a groan or two from the younger members of the pack. They’d have to endure it, because Chris had no plans to stop any time soon. And he was very unapologetic about it.

Others, though, started airing his dirty laundry to you. ‘I wish you could’ve heard how fast his heart would beat when you got close to him before. How flustered he got…’ Seungmin just wouldn’t shut up about it, and even though you were his girlfriend now and all his prior struggles were something you were very aware of, Chris still threatened to smack him with a slipper if he kept talking to you about it–a completely empty threat, but it did slow down his jabs a bit.

By the two month mark Chris was one hundred percent sure he’d never felt this good in a relationship before, and if these couple of months were an omen of how the rest of his life would be, he was more than ready for it.

“Baby, no offence, but no wonder you had to get a roommate”, you chuckled, mindlessly playing with his hair.

Chris laid on his back with his head between your legs, your tummy posing as the softest pillow he’d ever used. Your legs draped over his shoulders, caging his head between them while he played on his phone. It was a common position for Chris and you to ‘cuddle’ at this point, just laying together on the sofa as both of you took some time to unwind from the long day, scrolling on your phones, watching TV, or engaging in conversation.

“What’d you find?” Chris mindlessly caressed the skin of your outer thigh, squeezing the flesh here and there whenever he felt like it.

A few days ago, you had offered to help organise the finances of the pack, and today Chris was finally able to send you all the documents he could find related to everyone’s income and expenses. He’d been taking care of it on his own, but he found the task to be incredibly annoying and sometimes even confusing, so he’d be the first to admit he wasn’t doing as well as he could’ve with it… Especially with his own finances.

“Well, the kids seem to be taking care of their expenses well enough… They could probably cut down on some extras if they want to have some extra money…” Chris was trying his best to listen, he really was, but he started to zone out almost immediately, distracted by the warmth of your thighs around his head.

He squeezed your thigh, inhaling sharply, getting almost overwhelmed by your scent. “But you…” His ears perked up, focusing on what you were telling him. “Do you even know you are being billed for all these things? What do you even need a scooter insurance for?”

“I’m still paying for that insurance?!”

“Mhm, look”, you handed him your phone. Chris looked at the numbers on the screen, incredulous, and slightly annoyed with himself for forgetting about these things. “Do you even have a scooter?”

“Sold it ages ago, before I even got the car”, he scoffed, handing you your phone back. “Guess it just… Slipped my mind to cancel that thing”.

“There are more like these, y’know?” You chuckled, gently tugging on his hair. “You reckless wolf, what am I gonna do with you?”

Chris simply chuckled in response, turning his head a bit to place a kiss on your inner thigh as you continued to list things he had completely forgotten about. It took you both a while to go through everything, by the time you were done, he had pulled himself from between your legs, deciding to instead sit with his back against the backrest, spreading his legs as much as he wanted, with your legs laying over his.

There was some film playing on the TV. Chris tried to keep his eyes glued to it, but in all honesty, he wasn’t watching any of it, he didn’t even know which film it was.

The way you were laying on the sofa with your legs on his lap made it so the t-shirt you were wearing rode up almost completely, leaving your thighs on full display for Chris to touch and stare at. It was nothing unusual or particularly revealing, but he’d spent the past hour just squeezing and massaging your thighs, and the motions were getting him really worked up. Maybe embarrassingly so.

Even if he’d fucked you silly and seen you naked a thousand times already, he was somehow especially affected today. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t had sex in a few days–which was fine, contrary to what the rest teased Chris for, you two didn’t fuck every single day. Several times a week? Yes. But not every day. Mostly because either one of you would be too exhausted due to your jobs or your studies or whatever situation you both were going through that week.

Chris had caught himself thinking about your thighs a lot lately. Whenever you sat on his lap, or when you draped your legs over him when you slept, he just couldn’t help but look at them, to touch them. It had gotten to the point where, whenever your schedules got busy and you couldn’t get intimate for one reason or the other, he’d found himself wanking one off thinking maybe bit too much about your thighs. Touching them, kissing them, sucking on them, fucking them…

“Baby…” He squeezed your thigh lightly, keeping his eyes focused on the way the skin dipped under his hold. “If I tell you something… Something slightly embarrassing… Would you judge me?”

You turned away from your phone to look at him. “Never, babe. What’s bothering you?”

Chris swallowed the saliva he hadn’t even realised had pooled in his mouth, massaging your thighs a bit more firmly. “I… Really, really like your thighs…”

“I can tell”, you tucked your phone under the cushion you were using to prop yourself up, giving him your full attention. “That’s not embarrassing, though?”

“That’s not the embarrassing part…” Taking a deep breath, Chris licked his lips. He’d had a chub for a long while now, he’d been trying to ignore it, but the more he touched your bare skin, the more he just enjoyed the feeling of your soft flesh under his fingertips, he just couldn’t ignore it any longer. “I… Think about them often. Maybe too often. About how soft and squishy and big they are…”

“You do?” There was a bit of a teasing tone in your voice, but the way your heartbeat suddenly quickened was enough for Chris to know you weren’t teasing him because you found it particularly amusing, but just to get him even more worked up, to get him to react, and honestly he willingly fell for it, just like he did every single time.

“Mhm…” It wasn’t anything particularly new, not to him. The thighs… They’ve always been a part of a person’s body he’d tended to focus on, and the only time he tried to openly discuss it with someone in depth they looked at him like he was crazy, so he was embarrassed, and maybe a little apprehensive. But right now, he was just horny and in love and your thighs were just so soft, he just couldn’t contain the words from leaving his mouth. “Fuck, pretty, wanna fuck them so bad right now. Just… Really wanna come all over them…”

Chris had only ever fucked your thighs during his rut, he’d never brought that up into your day to day sexual activities. He was just convinced it wasn’t exactly common to have such cravings, considering he’d had partners tell him that before. Sure, you’d let him do it already when he was going through his rut, but there were a lot of pheromones and hormonal rushes involved back then, this was different. This was his completely coherent human self wanting to fuck a part of your body that wasn’t exactly common to want to fuck.

Licking your lips, and with a shaky intake of breath, you brought your hand to his, placing it there to bring his attention to your eyes. “Wanna do it now?”

There was no hint of judgement in your eyes, if anything Chris could see your pupils dilate, he could hear your heart beating faster in your chest, so he gave you an almost shy nod. “Do you, though?”

Your hold on his hand tightened a bit. “These are yours, Chris. I’m all yours”, your low tone, the desire coating your words, had him biting his lower lip and inhaling deeply, getting a whiff of your floral scent slightly tinted with lust, and it was honestly starting to cloud his mind a bit. “I don’t think it’s anything to be embarrassed about, baby. I actually think it’s quite hot… Makes me feel… Wanted. Is that how it is? Do you want me?”

“‘Course I do. Never not want you, pretty”, sneaking his hand between your thighs, Chris squeezed the tender flesh at the highest point, right where it met your core, making you almost squeal.

You stared back at him, in that way that almost made his alpha instincts kick in, in that way that made him want to make you submit to him in any way he could, but before Chris could say anything–or do anything–you spoke again. “Well… There’s massage oil in the coffee table…”

Of course there was massage oil in one of the drawers of the coffee table. You and Chris kept it there since before you got together, for times where the other felt their shoulders particularly stiff or for when any of the kids came over with the same problem. He’d lie if he said he never thought about… Using it in more inappropriate ways before, but it had been so long since you’d used it he had honestly forgotten about it.

With a chuckle, Chris shuffled a bit, careful not to let your legs fall out of his lap as he leaned forward to open the drawer and take out the bottle. Settling back on the sofa, as comfortable as he could, he instructed you, “scoot your legs back a bit, love. Need to take my shorts off”.

So you did, and once he found himself bare, he guided you towards him just as he slouched further into the sofa, bringing your legs back to his lap. Taking the bottle of oil, Chris took his time lathering your inner thighs with it, lightly massaging your flesh as he went, relishing the way your breathing was starting to get a bit more laboured with each drag of his hands on your skin, until finally, he soaked his cock, giving himself a couple of languid pumps.

Once Chris was content with how soaked you both were, he gave you the bottle so you could place it on the floor, just as he guided your legs to close around his length, and the sigh of relief that left his lips was honestly almost pathetic to his ears–not like he could care much about it when the most delicious thighs he’d ever seen were practically suffocating his cock.

“So good, fuck…” It wasn’t a particularly easy angle to do this in, but he was too far gone to care, so Chris simply angled his body towards you enough for both of you to be comfortable. Slowly, he started to thrust, his eyes focused on the sight of his tip popping out from between your legs, almost rubbing your core with each motion, feeling himself leak and almost drool as tiny sparks of pleasure started to travel down his spine.

There was a voice at the back of his head telling him that he wasn’t taking care of your pleasure, that he was being too selfish by rutting himself between your thighs like this, but before he could even feel bad about it, Chris heard you whimper, and when his eyes snapped from the sight of his cock between your legs to your face, he couldn’t help but swallow. Your face was flushed, your lower lip trapped between your teeth, and your brows furrowed as you looked back at him.

“Is this how you wanted me, darling?” When the words left your mouth, almost breathless, Chris swallowed again, slowly nodding. Somehow, you looked like you were enjoying it as much as he did, and that realisation had him growing impossibly hard.

“Just like this, pretty… Seriously, these thighs of yours… They’re gonna be the death of me. So full and soft… So delicious…” Sliding one of his hands under your shirt, he found one of your breasts, kneading it and squeezing it for a bit only to finally pinch your nipple between his fingers in tandem with his cock pumping itself between your legs, relishing the soft moan that left your mouth when he did.

“Babe, I want you to… To enjoy yourself”, there was a pout on your lips, but Chris could feel your thighs twitch every time he rolled your nipple between his fingers, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Oh, I am”, letting his head fall onto the backrest, Chris just looked at your face, at the way it scrunched up in pleasure and the way your eyelids fluttered shut with every movement of his, just as one of his hands kept working you up and the other held onto your thigh to keep you in place while he fucked himself between them. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby… Most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen…”

Chris had this habit of rambling and running his mouth when he was horny or when he was feeling vulnerable. He’d told you this before, so he was sure you weren’t surprised by the things that came out of his mouth when you had sex by now, but everything he said was something he truly believed, it wasn’t all just horny talk. His last statement was no exception. You were, truly, the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, and he’d believed that since the very first day he saw you.

You just whimpered in response, clenching your thighs harder, making him groan with the motion. Pulling your tee further up your torso, you brought your hand to your other breast, kneading it and playing with your nipple as Chris kept stimulating the other, as he kept fucking your thighs, and honestly he didn’t know where to look–to your gorgeous, blissed out face, to your hand and his working your chest, or to where his cock popped out from between your legs… It was all so much, and so, so good, and he truly was almost drooling with the intensity of it all.

It went on like this for a while, until Chris felt his orgasm grow closer. He hazily reached a compromise with himself, to let himself come first, something he didn’t do often. He usually preferred to have you reach your climax and fuck your brains out while you were all sensitive and drenched and squirming, but he needed this, and boy if he was ready to make it up to you after.

With a few more thrusts, giving you a quick warning, and a garnish of your name coupled with a colourful assortment of swear words, Chris finally came. His cum quickly pooled on the valley created by your thighs and your core, soaking your underwear, a bit even landed on your lower belly, and truly, you were always beautiful, every day, in every way, but especially so when you were covered in his cum.

“Shit, look at that, huh…” Chris felt lightheaded, but that didn’t stop him from reaching out to your lower belly, spreading his cum around with two of his fingers, only to finally bring them to your mouth, and, just like you always did, your lips wrapped around his digits, licking them clean with a satisfied moan. “Like eating my cum, pretty baby? Looks like you do, you’re sucking so eagerly, hm?”

You nodded, finally opening your eyes and letting his fingers pop out of your mouth. “Love it. How could I not? When you always have so much for me?”

Chris couldn’t help but chuckle, ignoring the heat he felt spread on his face. “All for you, love… All of it. All of me”.

You chuckled, regarding him with a smile. “How’re we gonna get out of this one without staining the sofa?”

“Take off that t-shirt, let’s use that”.

After wiping you off with his tee, Chris pulled you into his lap, bringing you close to him with one hand caressing your thigh and the other cradling the back of your head, just as you settled your legs at either side of him and your hands on his chest. You kissed like this for a bit, until your lips wandered off, pressing a trail of kisses from his mouth to his neck.

When you pulled back from his neck, you looked at him with such adoring eyes Chris thought he was going to melt right then and there. “You really like my thighs, huh?” You looked down, to where he was tightly holding onto the supple flesh of your thigh, and Chris really couldn’t help the bashful smile that came to his face when you called him out on it.

“Just fucked them and came all over them, baby. Can’t hide it, I’m fucking obsessed with them”.

You just chuckled, pressing your bare chest as much as you could against his to hug him close, just as you placed a brief kiss to his lips. “I meant it earlier, babe. You can fuck them whenever you want. I like it when you do. It’s really hot”.

“Oh, pretty, love… I fucking will. Shit, how couldn’t I…” Inhaling deeply, Chris kissed you, maybe a bit too hard, a bit too eager, but he still revelled in your soft moans as he did.

Linking his arms under your ass to keep you secure in place, he stood up from the sofa, earning a surprised squeal from your lips that got lost in his mouth. He simply laid down on the sofa with you on top of him, giving you a tight squeeze on one of your buttcheeks.

“Now, pretty baby…” He spoke between kisses, just as his hands roamed your body, squishing and kneading your soft flesh all over. “I need you to sit on my face. Want to make you feel good”.

You simply giggled in response, giving him one quick, loud kiss. “Someone’s hungry today”.

“For you? Always”, Chris chuckled. “Then, if you can still walk after, we can go stargazing tonight”, he added with a smile and a playful smack on your ass.

Chris was determined to show you just how hungry for you he was time and time again if necessary. How could he not be hungry for you? He’d realised that, for him, you embodied the very essentials of his pack. You embodied those things he so desperately wanted to have in his pack since he had decided to start one. Care, love, support, acceptance…

Whether it be his and his friends’ lycanthropy or his kinks or his odd spending habits, you seemed to accept it all as part of him. He shouldn’t be surprised, really. He shouldn’t doubt it. After all, you were made for him, all for him, perfect just for him, and he was ready to enjoy it, to enjoy you and your company for as long as you’d let him.

Author’s Note x2: while i was writing this, i took some time to re-read It’s Cold Out again after a long time and holy shit. i hadn’t fully realised how much my writing has changed since then. to the point where to me it doesn’t feel like ICO was written by me anymore. it’s crazy lol. i’m happy i’ve gotten to expand on this AU, and i’m even happier that i get to share it with you all. if you’re reading this, thank you, you’re awesome

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Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments: It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.

#stray kids supernatural au #stray kids fantasy AU #stray kids werewolf au #bang chan smut #bang chan fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fic #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #werewolf chan #werewolf bang chan #✨🌙✏

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fleurhcss · 2 months

Text

‧˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆ - 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫 - Minho x FEM Reader !

cw : apocalyptic scenery, fantasy, war between planets, futuristic content, reader appears in his dreams, Minho planet prince au!, premonition, strangers to lovers, fluff in the end, aliens, reader is a magician who has a radiant aura

sw : space sex, sex in a spacecraft, unprotected sex, anal, fingering, oral (f! receiving), MDNI, masturbation, blowjob, marks, nipples play

wc : 6.130

synopsis : Minho is the prince of Aindriks Ux'ids, which is at war with another planet, Creknok, over some political issues. His kingdom is constantly being attacked by some diabolical aliens that he and his soldiers are constantly fighting. In the nights when he can sleep, he keeps dreaming of a radiant woman (reader) who is a magician who will save his people when the planet will be destroyed. And she will also guide him in his choices. When the catastrophe will happen, they will meet in person where the spaceship will take off, and the passion between them will flood in a post-apocalyptic scenery in his room inside the spaceship.

a/n : hii, here I am with another fic, this time more sweet and fluff I hope u will appreciate it the same as the last one 🎀🎀🎀 thank you for supporting my stories, send love and hugs to all of u

MASTERLIST

[ SMUT / FLUFF ]

From an early age, you were trained to use magic to protect yourself and others. This was your advantage over the other inhabitants of Aindriks Ux'ids. Your family belonged to a generation of ancestors who practised magic on your planet. You were often called upon by the kings to know how to move during battle. You were the firstborn of your generation; you were the Supreme. You trained and taught your brothers and sisters how to behave and how to use magic properly. And you were called to court when things went wrong. But you never appeared in the flesh; it was only your hologram that spoke to the ruler and the council of the planet's Supremes.

Your sanctuary was secret and you could not leave it unless the situation was serious. No one could know where you and your family lived, or you would be in danger. Many wanted to steal your magic with the planet's new technology, many tried and failed miserably. Many wanted you dead. But fortunately, you and your family had always been able to protect yourselves with the proper means. Sure, you resented not being able to have friends and go out like a normal girl of your age. But that was your duty.

Unfortunately, the situation on your planet, Aindriks Ux'ids, had been precarious for months. You often dreamed of its end and of the way the population would be wiped out by your enemies: the inhabitants of Creknok.

They were determined to destroy you, they wanted your planet as it was one of the most powerful and advanced, and had allied themselves with lesser planets to drive you from your land. So far your advanced machines, your satellites and guardians had managed to contain the situation, but more and more planets had begun to turn against yours in their quest for power. So you had entered a war.

Unfortunately, the king, the supreme guardian of your planet, was too tired and old to lead a war, so he crowned his son as his new regent: Minho. A mighty, strong boy and a brave warrior. One of the greatest technicians and computer scientists in the history of Aindriks Ux'ids. He was undeniably handsome, and you often had unchaste thoughts about him. After all, you were a woman with your own needs. He was not too tall, well-built and muscular: when he wore his armour, you could see his muscles flexing and well defined. His thighs were so muscular that you wanted to bite them. They looked as if they were made of steel. His face was as beautiful as any. A prominent and important nose. Full lips. Feline, blue eyes. Red hair, soft. Prominent, hollowed cheekbones. You thought you had never seen a man of such beauty in your life.

And unfortunately for you, you had not had the opportunity to witness the extraordinary beauty of the now Prince Regent of Aindriks Ux'ids in any of the councils you had attended, except in devices. You wondered why he was never there. Only his father was. It was strange, really, that a good future king had to attend the councils to understand what were the right and wise decisions and what were the unseemly ones. When you asked your mother about this, she said it was his choice not to attend: when he became king, he would only want to follow his instincts. You wondered, however, whether it was a wise or an impulsive decision.

That day you were going to have an important meeting with the Government of your planet, to discuss how to create barriers to protect it. Technology was effective, of course, but not permanent. They needed your magic, you were an indispensable force for the planet. Unfortunately, even this time you were unable to meet the Prince Regent. Your curiosity was high, you wanted to meet him, to know what he was like, why he made the decisions he did. You wanted to know who this Minho really was, who was being hailed as the greatest future ruler in the history of the planet, and one of the greatest warriors and computer scientists in the history of the galaxy. What was it about this man that made him such a prodigy? Questions kept popping up in your mind, and you needed answers. Not least because his help was needed to save the planet. If only you had been able to talk to him, together you might have been able to protect the planet for a while longer, at least long enough to finish building the large spaceship that would house the population in case of explosion.

Yes, Minho and a number of technicians were building a spaceship that would be able to accommodate the entire population of Aindriks Ux'ids. Your touch would only be the finishing touch to make it indestructible. You had been studying for this spell for months. It was very important for the preservation of your beloved planet and your beloved people. Who knows if, in that case, you would have met Minho.

That night, however, you had an idea. There was a spell, rarely used because it was considered dangerous; that allowed the sorceress who used it to appear in other people's dreams. Perhaps that was how you could have met Minho. Appear in his dreams to talk to him about the situation on the planet, to help him with his decisions. Like an oracle. You would have been his guide and protector during this war.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

You spend the following week looking for this spell and practising it carefully so that you don't make a mistake and maybe appear in someone else's dream. That would be the crucial night, you would try to appear in Minho's dream so that you could talk to him. You would not deny that you were afraid that you would not succeed, that you would fail. But it was something that haunted you, and failure was not an option in this case. You had to succeed at all costs and be able to convince Minho without frightening him. Besides, he had never seen you before and did not know who you were, so appearing so suddenly in a dream was very dangerous. But nothing could stop you, you were determined despite the fear that gripped you. You had worked so hard to get where you were, so you would make it.

Night fell, and you wasted no time in pulling out your book. It seemed almost comical that in a world full of new technology and sophisticated machinery, you still had to use such an ancient practice to save your planet. It was also the only thing that made you feel real. Human. The rest was just a collection of iron parts and algorithms.

You sighed before locking yourself in your room, in the silence and darkness of your sanctuary. You spoke what must have been the magic formula and everything around you disappeared, you were in the middle of the desert field of your planet, you felt it was not real, but you wondered why you were there. Had Minho dreamed this? Why on earth would he dream of this place? You couldn't even make out his shape. There was no one around you. It was as if you were scattered in this place. "Minho?" You screamed. You had to be heard, he had to hear you. But it was a strange feeling that came over you afterwards, as if something had been catapulted into the dream itself.

You saw a muscular figure coming towards you. His silhouette was well defined, as were the lines of his muscles. He had a distinctive face, eyes as feline as the predatory gaze he wore. Fleshy lips were tight as he approached you at a brisk pace. It was undoubtedly Minho. Though this dream was not reality, you felt a warmth spreading in your belly as this authority figure approached you. Your lips parted, leaving your mouth open. He was the most handsome man you had ever seen. There was no doubt that he was a ruler : his posture, his mannerisms, his appearance, spoke for themselves. When you were face to face, a small sigh escaped your lips. His gaze was cautious, examining you as if he wanted to read you. He was cautious, defensive.

"Who are you? What are you doing here? How did I get here?" he said confusedly, examining you from head to toe. You were aware that this would not be an easy idea of yours, just as you were aware that Minho might have refused your help and thrown you out. So you plucked up courage: "I am Y/N, you must have heard of me. I have been helping your family for generations with our family magic. I have brought you here to meet you, I need to talk to you about our planet Minho. You need my help, we are in great danger. You must trust me and follow my advice." His gaze was frowning; it was clear that he did not trust your words, let alone you. But you could and should have seen that coming, after all he had never seen you before. "Before you say anything, I am here with the sole purpose of saving my people. I only want to help you, making decisions alone is not always a wise choice, Minho," you finished. His gaze was softer, but still stern and wary.

"Which reassures me that I can trust you and that you are not some hologram of a nearby enemy?" he said, stepping back. You laughed, it was obvious he knew nothing of magical practices. On the other hand, he was puzzled, he had been fascinated by your form, luminous and radiant. He had never seen anything like it, perhaps because all he knew were the machines and the spaceships he had been working on for months. He felt somehow and strangely drawn to you and your person. By the way, you had appeared out of nowhere to offer him your help. "Because you can't catapult yourself into someone's dreams with technology. It is a dangerous magical practice that must be studied carefully. That is why you understand the importance of my intervention here. I cannot leave my safe house and the holograms are no longer safe. Trust me, Minho." And so he approached you, trying to touch you. He felt the warmth of your skin, saw its shine. It was incredible, it felt as if you were right there with him. And it was the same for you, because you felt his warmth. He caressed your face as if to make sure you were real and not a bad joke his mind had invented for all the times he had dreamed of being next to a woman. After all, he was also a man with his own needs, which unfortunately limited his duties.

After all, he was constantly at war and busy, many alien forms began to attack your planet, popping up like mushrooms. There was no respite; nights when he could sleep were rare. That very day, he and his knights had fought a horde of alien soldiers sent by Creknok to discover the method of building your satellites. Unfortunately, your magical barrier had not been enough; their forces had taken hold too quickly. That is why you had felt the urgency to communicate with the royal figure that Minho was. "I will trust you Y/N, don't make me regret it."

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

Minho had forgotten the last night when he had slept well; he had spent his time thinking about the recent events on his planet so much that it was impossible for his brain to switch off or relax. He had spent two days in a row fighting alien invasions that left the planet deserted, much of their precious armour destroyed, and he was constantly thinking of a way to speed up the construction of the spaceship that would save his people. But something else was on his mind: the conversation he had with you. He kept thinking about the way you had appeared to him in a dream and offered him your hand during the long and tiring war. He thought about how beautiful you were and what it would have been like to hold you in his arms at that moment. Then he remembered that his duty came first; he could not afford to give in to desire and temptation when his planet was dying. Since the last time your conversation had been interrupted before it was fully born, he had not spoken to you because of the invasion of Creknok's senior soldiers, but he desperately needed to see you. He wanted your opinion, he wanted your help. For the first time, he accepted that someone outside his father was giving him advice. He felt strange, different. But when he saw you for the first time that night, he could not stop thinking about you.

That night, however, you managed to enter your thoughts and saw a spark cross his face. You approached him, smiling, and just to confirm how real you were, he caressed your soft, warm skin. "I haven't been able to sleep for days at the thought of failing and seeing what I'm fighting for destroyed, Y/N. I never thought I'd say this, but I don't know what to do," he said, covering his face. You were sorry to see him like that, you could only imagine the weight on his shoulders at that moment. After all, you had been through this kind of pain yourself. You stroked the back of his head, moving a few strands of hair away from his face. "You are one of the most powerful princes in the history of our planet, Minho, you will not fail. You are building a ship to save us all, that is not failing. It is helping your people in a time of great need. Continue as you are now, fight to the end for your people. Don't give up. I will do my best to help you with the ship. Magic is a precious commodity, you must use it. Let me do my part, you already do so much," you smiled. And Minho thanked you mentally. He showed you his smile for the first time.

It was beautiful, it was inevitable for you to think that. It was as if a greater force was pushing you towards him. You felt that you could become one with him. And maybe it was too strong a desire that pushed your bodies together, as if you could really feel each other's warmth. Minho stroked your skin while you stroked his thigh with gentle caresses. "You are special Y/N. If I had known that earlier, I would have liked to join the government councils," he chuckled. And you couldn't help smiling too.

"Tomorrow, fight bravely. The end is near, we must resist. Don't give up, you are the best. Hit the backs of the soldiers in the east side, they are the weakest and will give in much easier. This will cause the rest of the army to retreat, I have studied their dynamics. Meanwhile, I will prepare a spell, the most powerful spell in history, and it will finish off your ship. Good luck, Prince."

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

You had visited Minho's dreams many times during the week, and the two of you had inevitably grown closer. You had seen the gentle side of this prince, who fought bravely for his homeland without fear and with his usual feline gaze. It was a side of Minho you had not expected. In a world ready to be destroyed, he was your safe place. At night, you couldn't wait to catch up and spend time with him, advising him on what was best for your planet, helping him with all your might.

Following your advice and knowledge, he fought every enemy array, and your army triumphed, but the forces of the planet's government against Aindriks Ux'ids were too many. Alas, defeat was inevitable, you knew it and you had seen it. The stars and the prophecies spoke clearly. They had prepared everything. You had cast a powerful spell, one of the greatest spells in the history of magic, on the now defunct spaceship by Minho that would take every citizen immediately to safety. It had been a spell so powerful that it had exhausted you, as if it had drained some of your life energy. But you had done that and more for your people. Still, this was your last night in the sanctuary. You could feel it coursing through your veins that the next day it would all be gone. That your planet would be destroyed in so many micromolecules. Or, at best, into many small stars.

However, it was inevitable that you would feel a certain connection with Minho. It was as if you were now one. That night you should have met Minho and warned him of your premonition. The population should have started evacuating to the spaceship; you had to escape from this place if you wanted to get out safely. It was your only hope.

As usual, you uttered the incantation before being catapulted into the middle of the desert. Minho's solid, statuesque figure was waiting for you, smiling as if you were the only thing that made him feel good. On the other hand, the only time he did not have to think about his duties, the war and the imminent end of your planet was when he was with you. He approached you at a brisk pace, holding you in his arms, caressing the skin uncovered by your robe, tracing imaginary circles and restraining himself from touching you. In the end, he knew it was all a dream; you were not there in the flesh. But that didn't stop him from wanting you. From the moment he first saw you, a lust had grown in him that went through the roof. It was obvious that he wanted you all to himself. Minho had never been in love, let alone had who knows how much time to devote to pleasure, except for the few times when the usual parties with the ladies of the court were held at the palace. But you were different, he could sense it. You were not an easy woman to find. But not because you were a sorceress, Minho liked you for your personality, your wisdom and the way you had offered to be his guide and sidekick in war without asking for anything in return.

"You look wonderful tonight," he whispered as he lay down on the warm sand, bringing your body together with his on the ground. You smiled, stroking his profile with your fingers as you worshipped him. "You know this will be the last night, don't you Minho?" you whispered wistfully, unsure if you would ever see him again. You saw his face harden as he bit his lower lip. "Tomorrow the planet will explode Minho, we can't change the future," you said, resting your head on his chest. He felt so warm and real under your touch. Instead, it was all just a dream, a product of your magic. "I want you to lead the people during the evacuation, Y/N. You are the only one I trust one hundred percent, the only one who can get our people to safety. I will be the last to reach you. I have to fight until my last breath. Wait for me, I will come back for you, I promise. I want to hold you in my arms. But if I do not return, I entrust my kingdom to you. I will tell my father. This is my will as Prince Regent," he said, stroking the back of your neck. You were shocked; you did not think Minho could go that far. You did not feel ready to lead a people, especially when two quarters of them wanted you dead. You looked at him with your mouth open, not knowing what to say. "My guards will provide all the protection you and your family need." He smiled. You felt your heart pound at the thought that this boy cared so much for you. "You will make it Minho, you will save us all. You are a brave warrior and an excellent ruler. All the people have faith in you," you said, stroking his lower lip. "What about you? Do you trust me?" he reached for your face, a few inches between you. "Blindly."

He smiled at you, moved closer and then placed his lips on yours, resulting in a desired kiss. You felt a flame behind you, like a volcano ready to erupt. Your cheeks were as red as his. He bit your lower lip, holding you close, it was obvious how much he wanted you. How much he longed for your body. Your soul. You were aware that this was not a real touch, skin against skin, but you wanted it, needed it. "If I'm not going to come back, at least let me do this." He smiled and slipped his hands under your robe, caressing your skin, your body. He began to mark your skin as if you were his.

His head landed between your thighs, branding them as if it were the last thing he could do. The last thing he wanted. He removed the cloth that covered your intimacy and looked into your eyes as if seeking your consent. All you could do was nod, welcoming his hair into your grip. He left a kiss on it, cupping your thighs, and then began to kiss it as if it were your lips. Moans began to come out of your mouth and you could no longer tell dream from reality, so pleasurable was it to receive this attention from the prince. His tongue traced its path across your cunt and you went crazy. His movements were quick, precise, he knew where he was going and what he was doing. Minho was confident when he touched you like that. The movements of his tongue on your pussy were long and fast. Your legs trembled and clasped the sides of his head as he sank between the walls of your vagina, licking like there was no tomorrow. Paradoxical. He was hungry as he ate you, tugging at flaps of skin with his teeth as he sucked what was between your legs, leaving you screaming with pleasure. His movements were impossible to resist. His tongue began to move in and out of your hole, moving as if it were his cock. He carefully penetrated you with the sole purpose of giving you pleasure. "You are delicious, I wish I could never get out of this position." He whispered between your thighs, making you go crazy and throw your head back. You wanted to do something for him as well. His erection was visible through his robe.

As his movements became more precise and deeper, you could only release yourself with a loud moan between his lips. He rose, licking his lips before planting a kiss on yours, allowing you to taste your own juices. "Allow me to reciprocate, my prince," you smiled, cupping his neck in a whisper. You straddled him and began to rub your vagina against the fabric covering his obvious erection, causing him to roll his eyes back. Your hands were tight on his chest as you held on, your ass moving quickly along his length. You could hear his moans as he pressed your pelvis against his, I loved his touch on you. "You're beautiful, keep it up Y/N" you heard your name as his panting lips drove you so crazy that you increased the speed of your movements on him. It wasn't long before you felt the fabric beneath you soaking with a thick liquid and his voice reaching a high pitch with pleasure.

"You are wonderful, I will return safely just to have you and make you mine." He whispered against your lips as he pressed your body against his. "I'm counting on it, Prince."

And you did count on it, looking forward to holding Minho's warm body in your arms. To feel his warmth, his voice. All you needed was Minho. All you wanted was him. You knew he would come back, you knew he would win this battle for his people, for his planet, for you. You wanted no one else but him at your side; he was the one man who had allowed your warrior side to emerge, your heart to blossom, all these years. You did not care about becoming a princess or a queen. The title wasn't what you were after when the only thing that mattered to you was Minho's love.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

This chaotic morning had begun with numerous bombardments from enemy attacks throughout the western territory of Aindriks Ux'ids. The government had been informed of the Prince's wishes and had personally sent an escort to bring you and your family safely into the city. It had been two hours since you and other members of the army had helped the population get into the shuttle built by Minho, called Ndrakonis, which means "return" in your language. You had helped 3/4 of the population to escape through the smoke and holes caused by the explosions. There was only one last part left to evacuate. But your head was in chaos; you were afraid for Minho. You didn't want anything to happen to him. He was too important to you, to your people. The King had been the last person to board the ship after the last wave of people you had rescued from the rubble. The entire city had evacuated, missing only the army that was fighting with Minho and the latter.

You bit your lips in fear and could only hope for the best. The night before, you had offered to help him with a protective spell, but he had refused. He wanted to win as a brave warrior or lose his life in battle, no magic, no technology would have helped him. You admired that side of him so much. It was one of the things that had made you fall in love with him. Minho was not just another warrior or king, he showed you that over and over again.

When you saw a crowd of men running towards the entrance of the ship, you immediately recognised the figure of Minho from a distance. "It's the Prince! Come on, help him and close the doors immediately afterwards. We have to leave before we explode with the planet!" You screamed, making way for the army that was entering, led by the wounded Minho. As the doors were closed and the spaceship took to the skies, you approached the prince who was talking to his father. When he saw you, his lips parted, startling him. The father was about to present the two of you, but Minho cut him off. "Father, I know who she is. And to tell you the truth, she is the woman I told you about, the one who helped me fulfil my duties in a dream. So I ask you here, in front of the entire population of the planet, to do one important thing." You had no time to say anything, his voice thundered across the wide room, causing everyone to turn towards you, including your family. You blushed as he took you by the hand to make room beside him: "I ask you, Father, to marry this woman. And I ask you, sir, to take your daughter in marriage."

Your mouth fell open in shock, not expecting such a request from Minho. The whole village was shocked by the Prince's request. He approached you and kissed the back of your hand, him still bleeding. "You're even more beautiful like that." He smiled at you and kissed your forehead. You could not believe it. "Marry me, please," he asked in a whisper. "Whatever my prince asks, I will gladly do. But first, let me treat you." You took her hand and said that your care would also be available to the injured. Minho said with a smile that his were not serious and that he would wait for you to heal his people before he did, and said goodbye with a kiss on the lips.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

When you had completed your heal duties to the population, who had begun to be grateful to you, you went to your family to clarify with them what had happened with the prince; there you told them how you had approached the Prince Regent. At first they were angry that you had used such a dangerous spell, but in the end they appreciated your love for the people and the wisdom you had shown in helping Minho during the war. As you bid them farewell, the royal guards were kind enough to escort you to the royal chambers, while the rest of the people were assigned to the various apartments on the ship.

You entered Minho's room with a broad smile and found him lying in his bed, waiting for your arrival. It did not take you a second to begin a spell that would completely heal his wounds, with one of the biggest and most beautiful smiles you could ever show. "Hello, my future queen, why don't you lie down with me for a while?" He smiled as he made room for you in his already huge bed. You smiled as you reached up and flanked him. "Look at you, you look wonderful in my arms in the flesh. You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment, Y/N," he said and then joined your lips in a warm, insatiable kiss. You felt all their desire, all their passion. The longing he had for you. You bit his lower lip and positioned yourself on his pelvis. "You have no idea how long I have waited for this moment, Minho. You are everything I could ever want, beautiful prince," you smiled, leaving a kiss at the base of his neck, cupping his neck and leaving a trail of marks on his skin, just as he had done to you the night before. "If you keep this up, Y/N, I could fuck you right now," he whispered in your ear, making your skin crawl. But you didn't back down, you wanted it too. You longed for him, craved him. "Do it, here and now. Fuck me."

That, only gave Minho the green light before he changed positions and began a passionate, ravenous kiss, as if he wanted to eat you. His hands took no more than two minutes to remove your robe along with his own. They wandered over your body, caressing your curves before finally stopping on your ass and beginning to massage it. Gasps began to escape your lips as he bit them, hungry for you. You began to move your pelvis forward so that your intimacies collided. It was not long before he surrendered to your touch, as if he had been bewitched by you. His body was beneath you as you ran your lips over it, biting his nipples. While your tongue focused on one, your index finger and thumb played with the other. Minho clutched your hair in a tight grip as your teeth tugged and bit at his nipple, alternating with the other as soon as you were done with one. Your hands ran down his body, marking his muscular, veiny arms, his toned chest and his sculpted abs that ended in his hard, prepuce-rich length. You looked at him ravenously, moving slowly towards his intimacy as if with a look of defiance. "If you keep looking at me like that, I might cum right now," the older one moaned as he thrust his pelvis up in search of friction. But you giggled, you wouldn't let me. And if you had, you would have overstimulated him.

You came to his length and, without saying a word, included it in your mouth entirely. You wanted to please your future husband. You began to stimulate his testicles with your hands, licking from the base to the tip. You traced the veins with the tip of your tongue until you had sucked the whole length. Your hands gripped his muscular thighs, leaving scratches that were unlikely to disappear on their own. Minho tried to push the whole length deeper but you stopped him and pulled away. "Take your time my prince, we have all night," you sneered, then licked the tip and took it all back into your mouth, slowly. So slowly that Minho felt himself going crazy. "If you keep going so slowly, I could do it myself, Y/N." He said impatiently and you grinned again. Your tongue reached the tip of his length again and began to wrap around it, with firm, slow lapping strokes, while you still stimulated his testicles with your hands. "Shut up, hmm?" You continued to suck the tip. You closed your eyes. The young man's hands were clenched in your hair as moans of pleasure came from his mouth. Your tongue reached his slit and began to move in circles over it, making Minho's moans even louder than the previous ones. "Y/N, fuck." He groaned, arching his back as your mouth closed over his cock, enveloping it completely. The tip touched the back of your throat and he closed his eyes in an almost filtered moan. But you did not stop, you continued to suck on his length as the young man delivered precise strokes down your throat, fucking your mouth.

After a few minutes he released himself in your mouth in a long, hoarse, sonorous moan. You rose, swallowing, only to wipe your mouth and be catapulted against his powerful, unclothed body. It was wonderful. "I can't resist now, I have to fuck you properly, Y/N."

He didn't wait a moment to take control and get you under him. Marking your thighs as he brought your legs up over his shoulders and began to stimulate you with two fingers that worked their way between your walls. He began to move them quickly inside you, reaching your sensitive spot and beginning to move inside you as if he were an expert. "Minho...f...uck...faster pl...ease. Fuc...k me..., I can't wait a...ny longer!" you moaned. "Relax baby, we have the whole night to ourselves." He said, echoing your words from earlier. When he felt you were wet enough, he added two more fingers, moving at an animal speed, also dictated by your high pitched moans that seemed to make your words die in your throat.

He couldn't wait any longer and with a quick movement he pinned your face to the pillow, lifted your ass towards him and left a long lapping tongue in the middle of your buttocks, reaching your hole and began to slowly stimulate it. But he was also tired of waiting, he had done enough. It was time to fuck you and he would. "Every of your wishes are an order, my queen," he moaned as he entered you in one smooth stroke. You arched your back and he pinned your hands in a vise and held them. With his other hand he squeezed your ass and spread himself inside you, moving slowly at first so that you could get used to his considerable length. "God, you are so hot and tight around my cock. I could cum just standing here. You are beautiful," he whispered into your ear. Shivers ran through your body as you nodded, giving him the green light to move. The strokes were slow and deep at first, his hands clutching your body as your moans mingled in the air. But you wanted more, not just light strokes. "Faster please, go faster...faster!" And how could Minho not meet your demands?

He began to move inside you at an almost animal speed, touching places you didn't even know he could reach. He felt he could come at any moment and he would not be happy if you did with him. One hand reached your clit, his fingers moving quickly, making you almost scream and cry out in pleasure as his strokes were strong and firm inside you. You tightened your walls around his cock as if you wanted to suck him in. "Come with me, princess, come with me," he whispered to you before you poured over his fingers. He brought them to your mouth and made you suck on them as you tightened around him. In no time he was inside you in hot streams, filling you. "Fuck Minho!" you moaned as you felt a pleasant warm sensation spreading from behind you, inside you. "Baby you're amazing, so tight for me," he moaned as he rode out his orgasm and then lay down beside you.

He began to stroke your hair, looking at you with a gentle gaze. It was beautiful and you had never felt so good. You intertwined your legs, your bodies still entwined as you exchanged soft caresses. He left another kiss on your lips and you hugged him, burying your head in the nape of his neck. "You are beautiful, my leading star." He whispered in your ear as he stroked your bare back. "I love you, Prince." You replied with a smile. He looked at you in return and kissed your forehead. "I love you, my Queen."

TAGLIST 🎀 : @yongbokkiesworld @gloomy-k @raindropsondragons @linocvp1d @iiamthedramaa @snowyquokka @pynchkilledme @y4kie @ihrtlix @hyunjinnnsgirl @sugarsweetsugarsweet @reader1221 @bubblebisk

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vivalabunbun · 1 year

Text

There Are Nothing But Flowers

Summary: You want to play house and he’s just hungry.

Word Count: 11.3K

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18+), Modern AU, Vampire AU, TW: Death, Terminally ill! Reader, TW: Medical gaslighting, description of medial treatments & corruption, TW: Blood & Blood drinking, vague mentions of violence, Contract Marriage AU, slight! enemies to lovers, Slow burn, NSFW, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Unrequited love?, Vampire! Alhaitham, Dom! Alhaitham, Human! Reader, biting, slight orgasm denial, overstimulation, creampie, slight corruption kink, temperature play? you fall hard, slow fic, tragedy.

Authors note: This is the other side to this work, your side of the story, please read the tags carefully. I wanted to explore the other side of the garden wall and themes of mortality, it’s heavy, please read when you feel well enough to see what lies beyond. Enjoy.

Side note: the aftermath

“Honey, I’ll be off to work now.” A dapper man straightens out his tie, a briefcase in his other hand.

“Dear…aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Are my pants unzipped again?” His eyes darted down as disembodied laughter rang out in the unseen background.

“No, you forgot this.” The pattering of house slippers stops as the woman cradles her lover's face between her hands.

The kiss from her immaculately painted lips melted the wrinkles from his forehead as the taller man leaned into his deserved affection.

“Have a good day at work, my love.”

—

A quiet house on the hill, white picket fences, and a lovely dog wagging its tail in the green yard. Eyes watching the vibrancies dance along a small screen, blocking out the gray in the peripheral.

Everything about this drama was cliché, the plot slow and predictable, just mediocre. So perfectly mundane that your hand itches to grab it through the screen like a thief. But are you really a thief if you steal back what was taken from you?

Before your mind can explore that comparison further a knock drags you out of the immersion, thumb quickly taps the screen to halt the fantasy.

“Good evening, ma’am.” The doctor in his white uniform enters.

“Hello, doctor.”

Two polite smiles greet each other, neither truly reaching the eyes. Your hands neatly folded together, his fiddling with the chipboard which held your verdict.

Observing how his teeth bit the inside of his cheek as his eyes scanned the charts. Your hands remain still even as he takes a deep breath.

“Unfortunately it has spread beyond our initial expectations. The results show that it’s progressed to a late stage despite our best efforts. Right now, you only have a few treatment options left.”

What happened to ‘just that time of the month’, ‘just get fresh air’, and ‘just give it some time’?

“There’s a series of procedures to cut out the spread, however, it might be very difficult as the infection is deep and intertwined with healthy tissue. The success rate is low, and the probability of it coming back is very high.”

What happened to ‘you’re young and healthy, it’s nothing’?

“The next possible treatment would be Kalpalata Lotuses. It has properties to slow inflections and has pain-reducing effects, however, it’s slow and inefficient in the long run. If you choose the first option you’ll have to pair it with treatment two. The first could give you fourteen years, the second on its own might only give you half of that.”

What were these past months spent behind a glass prison all for?

The constant hum of the machines filled in the dead space, the beeps on the monitors counting the passing seconds as two lips remained closed.

From the hallways, the chattering of nurses provided proof that the world in fact has not stopped spinning. Something dreadful filled the room, a silent suffocation. He was the first to fold.

“Please take your time to think this decision over, I’ll leave you to get some rest. Have a good night ma’am.” There was a flutter of pages folding back down to the clipboard.

The doctors were letting you pick your poison, how thoughtful of them.

Just as before two polite smiles that didn’t reach the eyes acknowledged each other, with a nod the doctor took his leave, eager to end his shift, to escape the unseen hands.

Not a word slipped past your lips during the one-sided conversation, tongue unable to string together a single sentence. What is there left to say?

As you lay back down your fingers brushed against the screen, restarting the episode as the laughter of an audience resonated along the sterile walls.

Maybe if the doctors, with their acclaimed degrees and status, were just a little more attentive.

Maybe if they didn’t simply see you as a lady with nonsensical symptoms.

Maybe if they didn’t view you as a statistic.

Then you wouldn’t have collapsed that day at work.

Then you wouldn’t have spent grueling months undergoing diagnosis after diagnosis.

Then maybe just maybe the Pythagorean Cup wouldn’t have surpassed its threshold, emptying out all hope.

The dialogue continues but it’s all but a fuzzy ringing now. Eyes watching the passing car lights dance upon the gray ceiling from the late evening traffic of workers, with their white or blue collars, eager to return home.

You longed for that, to return there. Hands itching to rip out the tube from your arm and the sensor with its pitched beeps.

Fourteen years, fourteen years of what? Bed sores from thin sheets? Chest pains at too deep of breaths? Stitches recovering only to be ripped open again?

Sounds more like a punishment delivered deep underground in a place whose temperature rivals the surface of a burning star.

Was it because you cursed at the man who cut you in line once?

Was it because you stole your college roommate’s sweater?

Was it because you never brought offerings to the Sanctuary of Surasthana?

Were you such a despicable person in a past life that the sins carried over?

Heavy lids closed to soothe the burning in your eyes, letting the warm trails run down your cheek. Reining your senses back from its escapade with a slow breath.

No. It’s none of that. It’s just life, capricious life. Capricious life that took your parents and now is hunting you.

There’s no karmic debt to pay off, there’s no faceless god to pray to. Setting one foot onto the path of true adulthood, only for your eyes to spot the end just over the horizon. What can you do?

The jumbled laughs and fuzzy speeches coming from your phone’s speaker were becoming too much. Thus you rolled your heavy body over to silence it. Once again the world outside the window was in view, the soft orange glow from the office right across leaking into the suffocating grey.

Oh, he’s at his desk tonight.

Wet eyes watch as the ashen-haired being shifts through sheets of crisp paper and his pen moving constantly. It’s strange, a bit mocking even, that an immortal creature could be so mundane.

Maybe that’s why their office is just across the Bimarstan, to taunt those who longed for that reality, beckoning them to sign their names on a dotted line.

Candace’s words were right, it’s a predatory scheme.

Perhaps hold habits die hard, after all, vampires are creatures of the night that once terrorized generations of humans.

Shielded by the panes of glass separating the two buildings, it was safe to continue this strange routine. Is staring at a stranger considered stalking if they’re the only view the windows offer?

He got up from his desk, moving towards the filing cabinet just off to the side, allowing for his profile to come into view.

He’s handsome, features outshining any of the male leads you’ve seen in movies.

Teal eyes, ashen hair like moonlight, tall and broad stature. It’s no mystery why so many heroes and heroines fell into depravity, lured in by their beauty, entranced minds blindly offering up their everything.

You weren’t special enough to be immune. Hence, why you continued to watch the nameless vampire who doesn’t know yours. Resting your cheek upon the stiff pillow, the feeling in your arm decreases like the cars in the streets. The pitched beeps keeping time.

He stood back up from his desk again, one hand grabbing the coat thrown over the back of a chair. Placing pens back into a cup and paper back into folders, he walks to the door before his hand shuts off the warm orange light.

It looks like tonight’s episode has ended on time like always. Rolling back to stare at the drab ceiling, allowing blood to rush back into your arm as the sensation of pins and needles crawled up. It wasn’t bothersome, as tonight's viewing evoked entertaining thoughts.

What a punctual vampire, where does he go after midnight? To a tavern or home?

Is someone waiting at the door for him there? Welcoming him back with soft lips?

Is that why he’s so eager to leave?

Your lids were growing heavy, the view of a blank ceiling wanes your alertness. The sweet curiosities coax you to continue in the realm of dreams, you listened to their call.

Could you be that someone?

“So, how ya feeling?” Dehya places down a container filled with baklava.

“Mmm…”

The metal legs of the visitor's chair scraped across the floor as she awaits your response.

“Would you still be my friend if I was a rock, Dehya?”

“Ahh, not this again.” She rolls her eyes.

Sitting upright in the hospital bed, hands folded together you awaited her response.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll still love you to bits even if you’re a pebble or something,” Dehya sighs, but there’s an upward tilt in her lips.

“I’ll love you too.” You helped yourself to some baklava.

A reward for your diversion of a miserable topic with sweet nonsense and special words. After all, she’s got a difficult job during the night, no need to make the day as difficult. Your mother used to say to save such words only for a special someone, but that’s the point of a word if it's never used?

–

“So, a few weeks ago I took this assignment that–” Dehya’s sapphire eyes moved behind you, gazing out the window where the sunlight poured in.

“Ugh, his office is right across from you.”

“Who?”

“Alhaitham, he’s a vampire I had the misfortune of meeting during a job, not that he’d remember.”

So the vampire’s name was Alhaitham, it felt nice on your tongue.

“Oh? How come?”

“He just always talks in long, convoluted sentences, and in that snooty tone, snooty even for a vampire.” Dehya takes a piece of baklava to ease her from that bitter work experience.

“My, I wonder how his spouse bares with him.” The bait was set out.

“Pfft?! Ahaha! Who? It’s nearly impossible to spend five minutes by his side.”

“Mm, really?”

“No ring on his finger. From what I’ve gathered even other vampires can’t stand that personality of his.” Dehya takes another piece.

Success.

–

The container of baklava now only holds a few crumbs and traces of sweet syrup. The sun was beginning to kiss the horizon, a sign that your friend’s visit was coming to an end.

After all, she’s got a duty to fulfill as a hunter that maintains the balance between mortals and creatures who dare cross the boundaries of the law.

Right as your hand returns from the air after bidding goodbye, it lands on the cold screen of your phone. In an age of growing cities and ever-advancing technologies, you’re grateful for these developments. As it makes your next actions possible.

It’s hard to miss a name when the letters are written in bold, imposing signs along the building just beyond the panes of glass.

As per Sumeru regulation, all employed vampires must be listed on company sites, an attempt at keeping track of such creatures.

Scrolling page after page until eyes landed upon familiar ash-mint trusses.

Name: Alhaitham

Species: Vampire (Born)

Title: Secretary

Years At Company: 168

Fingers clicked on the next tab.

“To apply for a blood contract, one must bring personal identification, and fill out an application during an appointed consultation with the vampire present. Once the boundaries of the contract are established, it will go through the approvement process.”

Eyes moved to the next tab.

“Seven years is the maximum time for a singular contract, but it can be renewed every seven years. Both parties must fulfill the terms written on the contract. The value of a contract is determined by the amount of blood offered on a regular basis or in a future deposit. Applying for a contract that gives the maximum, 10 pints, in a full sum amount must pass a psychological evaluation.”

Fourteen years is an unjustly cruel fate, but seven… Seven might be tolerable. After all, it’s often called the number of luck, you wonder if vampires were aware of this, maybe that’s why they chose that arbitrary number.

Waiting as the sun disappears behind the horizon with your head resting against the stiff pillow. The warm orange glow from the office across from you signaled the start of tonight’s episode. Observing every stop and start of his pen as two voices wrangled your thoughts.

There was a guest featured in this episode it seems, another vampire enters the office with a fresh stack of paper. He seemed eager for Alhaitham’s approval, even going as far as offering a pen out from his own pocket. However, this plan was foiled by a simple rise of hand by the male lead.

The universal signal for rejection.

The guest seemed dumbstruck. The only explanation the silver-haired lead gave was a simple gesture toward a clock. The guest’s hands were moving frantically as if to convey the urgency of the papers piled up.

However, Alhaitham simply takes his coat from the back of his chair and shuts off the warm light.

In the murky darkness, your eyes could just barely make out the silhouettes of two figures traversing out of the office. Oh, tonight’s episode has ended just on time as always.

How shamelessly punctual that vampire is. Some might even call it selfish. But what’s wrong with being selfish? After all, all true passions in life in the end are thinly veiled excuses for selfishness.

If life wanted to be shamelessly selfish, then why can’t you? With that, it seems one voice has finally emerged victorious.

Your fingers crept towards a button just off to the side, a quiet ding resounding as the bright glow flashed. Breaths counting the minutes before a set of footsteps stopped in front of your room, followed by a polite knock.

“Is there something you need, ma’am?”

“Yes, I want to discharge myself tomorrow, as soon as possible.”

Your eyes traced over the too-long string of zeros printed on the check, hands wanting to crumble up the slip of paper. So this is how much your life was worth. Standing outside the Bimarstan, you peered up at the tall building that once caged you.

Were the administrators looking down at you at this moment from their high offices? Were they watching your reaction to their little bribe? Pushing you to keep your lips shut, so that their mistakes and misjudgments won’t reach the ears of the press?

It doesn’t really matter now, but it was thoughtful of them to hand out an extra bargaining chip. Refocusing your attention back on the building just across the street, there were still some preparations to finish.

–

The time was now 6:30 pm, the sun has ran off into the night allowing for the stars to guide you back to the building just beyond the glass.

A simple bag held your offerings: proof of identity, property documents, doctor's notes, and bank statements handsomely topped off with the help of a certain check.

There’s a jitter in your legs as you stood just beyond the threshold of the sliding doors. Is it really the right thing to do?

What would be the look on the faces of your dearest friends?

Would the handsome stranger show last night’s gesture to you too?

Your lungs steadily filled with the crisp air, pushing their capacity almost to the point of pain, you exhaled.

The right thing to do is to be selfish, they’ll understand sooner or later, and the worst thing he could do is say no.

Even if you leave with your cheeks burning in shame, the burn would only last seven years. Your feet stepped past the threshold and the glass doors parted.

“Excuse me, is Mr. Alhaitham here tonight?” You already knew the answer.

“Hm? Yes… Are you looking for him, youngster?” The receptionist quirks a brow at you.

“Yes, I want to schedule a contract consultation with him right now.” You take note of her name tag.

“Hold just one moment, the secretary-”

“Is his schedule occupied right now?”

“No, but if you’d let me finish, Alhaitham isn’t one of the vampires that usually accept such-”

“Please, Madam Faruzan?”

You weren’t sure if it was the polite address of her name or the plead in your gaze that was the cause of the decisive furrow between her brows. However, her shoulders slumped forward as a huff leaves her lips.

“Alright, please follow me.” She gestures a hand, welcoming you to the elevator just behind the desk.

“Thank you.”

Within the confines of the fancy cart, the blue-haired vampire asks over and over if you had all the correct documents, listing each one out. Your skilled ears tuned every word out, nodding along to feign attention. Finally, the saving grace of a pleasant ding signals the chart’s stop at its destination.

When the polished doors slid apart, you charged out into the floor, your legs guiding you to the office with the clearest view of your old glass cage.

From behind you, Faruzan called out your name as she mutter something about how humans these days are always in just a rush. Your ears could care less about her words.

Gallivanting through the threshold of his open office door, you finally came face to face with the male lead you’ve been fawning over.

As his eyes meet yours, you observed the brilliant shades of teal and ocher in them. Really, the view from across two panes of glass couldn’t detail his true beauty.

“Hello, Mr. Alhaitham.” You beamed your best smile.

The pattering of steps behind you comes to a stop as Faruzan finally catches up exasperated at your impatience.

“Secretary Alhaitham, this young lady here would like to make a blood contract with you.”

The weight of his teal gaze shifted back on your frame after your late introduction, assessing the situation as you awaited his response.

“I see.” He nods while walking out from behind the desk, pulling out the chair in front of it.

The receptionist took her cue to leave the room, shutting the office door on the way out. The room now balanced with just one mortal and one immortal.

You paid no mind to his words as you settled down into the seat, after all, you’ve already read through them. Instead, your ears absorbed his timbre tone and smooth cadence. What a dangerously beautiful voice, it’s beckoning you towards the murkier waters.

“What are your demands?”

“Marry me.” Your lips blurted the truth out before shame got the chance to stop them.

Remember, the worst he could do is to show you the door.

–

In truth, you were preparing yourself to see the open palm of his large hand as he rejects your ridiculous proposal. Yet, here you were, still in his office. Sitting just across the expanse of his dark oak desk, all your documents scattered across it as Alhaitham’s pen guided across a form.

“What are the living arrangements you expect?” He doesn’t glance up from the paper.

“Mm… Would moving into your home be possible? Married couples usually live together.”

“That’s possible. Expectations for domestic and financial responsibilities?”

“I can’t work, so I don’t mind taking care of the house. But, I do want us to share some chores, so I don’t go insane.” You wonder if the ends of his lips would curl at your humor.

“I see.” The pen continues to record the sentences down on the form.

You kept the smile up despite the sting of failure.

“So… How much blood do vampires need?” Best to move on.

“It depends. Humans can give at most two pints of blood safely, and only once every two months.”

“You only need to feed once every two months?”

“Yes, would that be an issue?”

Lips parted, your next sentence dangles just off the tip of it. However, it seems that Alhaitham had already read them.

“Mortal medicine has no effect on our bodies.”

“Are there any restrictions on affection? Any personal boundaries?” You pivoted to another question.

The pen stops for a moment, his teal eyes shifting off the paper for just a brief moment as he evaluates numerous scenarios, or at least that’s what you think he’s doing.

“Deep kisses are not permitted.” Alhaitham’s teal eyes pierced straight into yours as he delivered the verdict.

It’s silly really, you really don’t have the right to demand an ounce of touch from him, you aren’t entitled to his personal space. However, something still made your stomach sink.

“Oh?... May I ask why?”

“There runs the risk of blood contamination through exchanging saliva, our incisors are quite sharp.”

Oh. You read between the lines he penned down. The most sacred law of this age, a time where mortals and immortals walk alongside each other: vampires cannot turn humans into immortal beings.

He’s being precautious, after all the price he’d have to pay for a drop of his blood tainting yours is far greater than anything you could offer. Yet, the greed deep within you wouldn’t stay silent.

“Are closed-mouth kisses okay then?” Haggling the clauses like you were at a market stall.

Once more the pen stops as he contemplates your bargain.

“Yes.”

“The contract has been submitted to the legal department. If you pass the evaluation, it’ll be approved by the end of this month. I look forward to your cooperation.”

And with his disembodied voice over the phone, he accepts your proposal. Alhaitham agreed to play the role of your husband. The anticipation that weighed down your shoulders for the past three days was finally lifted. Hopefully he can’t hear your idiotic grin through the phone.

Success.

—

“No, I won’t accept this.” Dehya slams her glass down, unfazed by the glances from surrounding tables.

“Please reconsider your decision.” Candace gives you her disapproving gaze.

Shifting your eyes over to Nilou, poor sweet Nilou whose wide eyes could only convey the word ‘why?’. The interrogation after showing the ring to your dearest friends was much more intense than the evaluation you underwent to get the marriage approved.

However, it’s to be expected. After all, two of the people at this table were hunters. If anyone knew the true brutality vampires hold, it would be them.

Tapping on the screen of your phone to reveal the time. Of course, you won’t arrive at this negotiation unprepared. Glancing back up to face the counsel of your friends, a honeyed smile on your lips.

“Would you guys have the time to accompany me to a doctor’s visit?”

–

That took longer than you expected, walking out of the sliding glass doors which reflect the everchanging hues of dusk. The cause for this extended session at the Bimarstan was the numerous times your dearest guests made the poor doctor repeat your verdict.

Each time hoping that something different would leave his mouth. Peering up at the building across the street, you wonder if he’s getting ready to leave the house soon.

The closing of the automatic doors draws your attention back to the three figures who followed behind you. Pensiveness eyes downcasted as their minds continued to digest the events that have unfolded.

“Pfft! What’s with this atmosphere?” A giggle leaves your breath, it’s unbefitting for a gathering of friends.

“I won’t force you to attend my wedding if you don’t want to. However, I’ll be quite the lonely bride without any bridesmaids.” There was your honeyed smile again.

They could say no, they could beg you to drink the first poison offered by the doctors, they could ask you to give them more time, to give yourself more time. But they won’t. You knew they won’t.

Unlike you, they’re selfless and heedful, all your fortune in life must’ve been spent on finding such dear friends.

You’re the only selfish one.

There are many things you like about Alhaitham. Even excluding his excellent physique, his starlight hair and beryl-citrine eyes, he’s got the perfect traits of a life partner. He satisfies all the aspects of the ideal husband. Never leaving you wanting or hungry. You could list all his positive traits.

–

One, by simply holding out a hand, he’ll place his black card onto your awaiting palm. Not even batting an eye when you returned home from a ‘simple grocery run’ in a new set of clothes with the tags still on.

When you mentioned to him that a TV would look nice on the empty living room wall, he ordered one on the same day. How dreamy.

–

Two, he’s quite the interesting specimen.

“So, if someone were to douse you with blessed water, your flesh won’t burn?”

“No.”

Alhaitham humors your ridiculous inquires about his species, enlightening you to just how inaccurate those films and shows you loved were.

He even humors the trivial anniversaries, celebrations, and dates inspired by any recent dramas you fancied. The wedding was proof enough: he tolerates your fantasies.

–

Three, what you liked most of all: he’s too smart to ask redundant questions. After all, he’s read the files, he’s seen the diagnosis.

It’s not some secret that shall not be told, not a monster that shall not be named. Just like how there’s no point in telling someone the sky is blue, there’s nothing left to say about the doctor's notes.

No surprises, no sudden alarms, just the artificially sweet lull of domestic life.

–

Performing the part of a doting husband with such spectacular accuracy, you could almost mistake it as sincere.

You applaud the amount of skill it takes. However, costars are meant to bring out the best in each other, pushing one another past their thresholds for an excellent show.

The slightest blunders of lines and facial muscles couldn’t fool your expert gaze. It does take one to know one.

–

“Haitham,” you called out.

Setting down the two servings of biryani on the dinner table, the rich spices perfumed through the halls. It only takes one call for Alhaitham to come out from his library, halting for a second at the threshold of the kitchen before swiftly composing himself once more.

“Dinner is ready, it’s biryani tonight.” You gestured for him to take a seat, a smile ever present on your lips.

“Thank you.” He takes his place.

You take your place just across the table, wasting no time enjoying the fruit of labor after standing over a stove. Every grain of rice perfectly coated in the right amount of seasoning, just the correct level of richness. The recipe you followed online deserved its high rating, it’s delicious.

Traveling across the length of the dinner table, your leaden gaze landed upon the figure who has yet to touch his meal. That must’ve been enough for him to take his cue, bringing a spoon full into his mouth, chewing then shallowing.

“How is it?” Resting an elbow on the polished oak.

“You’ve worked hard on this dish, thank you.” He takes another bite.

Letting out a pleased hum, you released him from this scene. Turning your attention back to your own meal.

You’ll clear your plate in about twenty more bites, and he’ll continue to push the contents of his plate around once in a while faking a bite. Then after you’re finished, he’ll swiftly offer to clear the table and dishes, telling you to retire to the bedroom for rest.

A clever diversion from his ultimate goal of dumping your cooking into the trash. You’ve gone through this script for two years now.

It’s practically impossible to completely suppress one’s true intentions and instincts. Alhaitham can’t fully prevent the corners of his lips from down-turning every time you address him with that botched nickname.

He can’t entirely stop the sigh escaping his lips whenever you call for him to help with menial tasks, unbefitting for such a noble creature.

He can’t suppress the repulsive scrunch of his nose every time your cooking assaults his palate, the same reaction witnessed during the bi-monthly feeding sessions.

The same disgust he has of your blood, you thought mortal medicines has no effect on such beings, an oversight on his part.

He’s not as much of a mastermind as he might think, after all, he’s the one who allowed a piece of paper to be dangled over his head. Placing the power of clauses into the palm of your awaiting hand.

You tell him ‘jump’, and he’ll ask how high with disdain thinly veiled behind brilliant teal.

Humans are defined by their curiosity and greed, mortal hands always playing chicken with a boundary, testing how far they could go. You’re not special enough to be different.

Perhaps the only time he gets the advantage is when you bare your neck for him. Fangs hastily piercing skin, hands a bit too harsh around the neck. He wants it to hurt, you know.

Too bad, months spent at the hospital trained your tolerance to such sensations.

If life wants to entangle its fingers into your hair and cruelly tow you to and fro, why can’t you enjoy that same feeling? You’ll just grasp at any wisp of control, you’re a simple human after all. You’d even grasp onto death to stable yourself.

Mortal self-interest versus immortal apathy, what a disastrous harmony.

Ah, you slept a bit too long. Extended nap causing you to miss a scheduled cup of tea. Tapping a finger along the cool marble countertop you watched the kettle boil.

Frame resting against the counter, each tap against the marble was a futile attempt at distraction. Kalpalata Lotus’ effects can only last four hours, what a shame.

The steady rhythm of taps interrupted now and then by a pulse of pain as the leaves steeped. Starting deep within your core then crawling it’s up to your lungs like a shadow overtaking a frail flower.

This must be your warranted punishment for a transgression committed over the weekend. Dragging a creature of the night into the bright, unwelcoming sun all for a silly farmer’s market. Alhaitham’s slumped figure and worn tone were the cue.

You thought vampires weren’t like how the drama portrayed them, but perhaps there’s some truth, an oversight on your part.

You played chicken with that boundary and got burned, how will you soothe the wounds of guilt now?

Foregoing honey this time, you hastily swallowed the entire contents of the cup. No matter how fast you push the tea down your throat, no matter how many spoonfuls of honey you put into it: it’s unpalatable.

The herbal tang dried the inside of your mouth, yet the bitterness made your salivary glands go into overdrive. This is what purgatory is like, huh?

The chime of your ringtone snapped you back to reality. Glancing over at the screen: Candace. A call so late, she’s at work now, isn’t she?

Swiftly pushing down the bitterness that lingered, clearing your throat before accepting the call.

“Hello?”

“Good evening, how are you feeling, any discomfort?”

“Pfft! The diligent Candace gets on her phone during work just to check up on me? I’m swooned.” Your bell-like laughter made the pain worse as it rang through the empty house.

From the other side, you could pick up the faint giggle, you envision her fighting back a smile.

“Yes, yes. But more importantly, where are you now?”

“Home, why? Did you want to visit? I got some baklava.”

“Good, stay there.” There’s an instant switch to the mood.

“Mm?” You hummed, passively acknowledging the tension.

“Please stay inside. There’s a rouge vampire at large, hunters are scattered all throughout the city.”

Leaving you with a cliffhanger, she knew you’d want a taste of the details. You’ll bite.

“Oh? That serious, what did they do?”

“He turned his lover.”

Goosebumps ran up your neck in the perfectly tempered room. That vampire crossed the forbidden line in the sand, straight into the ocean of inevitable demise.

The most sacred rule results in the most miserable end. Once caught, his chest will be pierced with silver, heart torn from his body. She doesn’t need to detail those, you already knew.

“Oh?”

“His lover has been located, they’re receiving treatment, unsure of the status. However, you should tell your husband to be careful.”

“I should be saying that to you. Stay safe out there, he’s probably on his way back anyways.” Your eyes glanced at the clock, 11: 59 pm.

“Alright, I will. You should really rest, it’s so late.”

“Mm? Says you, Candace. Tell Dehya I said to stay out of trouble.”

She hums in response. Right after you chimed your farewell and right before she disconnected the call, you slipped in one more line.

“Please stay safe.” Addressed to no one person in particular.

–

The hands on the clock now read 3: 21 am, a fresh cup of tea now rested in between your hands. Eye reflecting back at you, still no message, not a single call. His voicemail now ingrained into your ears.

In an age where humans and vampires now live side by side, it’d be naive to believe that such arrangements are free from prejudice. After all, centuries of fear and hatred don’t just vanish into the air like the vapors of hot tea.

If a vampire is slain during a hunt, a creature unrelated to the true prey, oh well.

It was for the greater good, it was to maintain the peace, to ensure humanity’s safety. You’re not in the mood to debate such flimsy excuses.

–

It’s now 4: 34 am, the blushing hues of dawn were just about to creep through the curtains by the front door. Your legs begged for rest, your shoulders heavy, but you refused to leave your post.

Finally, the clink of keys slotting into place sang through the entranceway. The heavy oak door opens, you don’t need to study his expression, he’s disappointed to see you.

“Where’ve you been?” No chirp in your command.

“I went drinking with coworkers.”

You know, you could smell it on him.

“Why didn’t you call beforehand?”

Alhaitham doesn’t bother to suppress his deep exhale, nor the downward tug at his lips. Disdain meets disappointment, eyes and frowns locked into a staredown as the hands of a clock kept time.

In the peripheral you spot warm orange chasing away the pink, clearing the way for the most brilliant star. Oh, it looks like your wound wasn’t soothed enough. You closed your eyes.

What went wrong with the script?

You.

It’s not selfishness, it’s plain immaturity. Immaturity breeds cruelty. The same immature cruelty of a curious child who ripped off the hypnotically beautiful wings of a butterfly.

Perhaps the corruption of your tissues has made its way into your personality, an unforeseen consequence of that herbal tea. Or maybe your transgressions were the influence of a green-eyed monster. Immortality gives him an overabundance of what you’re deprived of.

But it’s not his fault, it’s not an unseen monster’s fault, it’s your immaturity that’s ruining this performance.

This just won’t do. With the script going awry long ago, there’s no use in trying to follow it, the two of two should conserve your energy.

It’s best to rewrite it again, to say lines that’ll move the scene along in the right direction, to save this domestic drama. You’ll be the first to fold.

“My life’s too short for misunderstandings and messy communication,” you huffed.

Lids opening back up to catch his gaze again, restrained and artificially blank as always. Still, he’s got beautiful eyes.

“I’m your wife, and you’re my husband.” You stated the obvious.

Alhaitham knows that, so his lips remain still.

“So when my husband, who usually arrives home at half past midnight on the dot, didn’t arrive home until dawn without a single text or call, I got worried.”

Another deep exhale from him.

“You don’t need to report every movement to me, I don’t want that either. But if you plan on staying out please give me a simple text, so I don’t have to spend hours worrying about why my husband isn’t answering my calls.”

The discoloration under your eyes, the slump of your heavy shoulders, and the unsteadiness of your knees. He’s observing them all, isn’t he? A pro-actor accesses the situation before deciding how to respond to an ad-lib.

“I understand, I’ll do that from now on,” he answers.

What a typical response for him, but maybe not so much for a husband.

“You’re supposed to apologize, ya know: ‘I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife’,” you advised.

“I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife,” he parroted.

You’ll suppress your giggles for now, this successful pivot of a dreadful scene caused a grin to break out on your face. One that reaches your eyes.

Arms outstretched you wrapped them around his neck as your lips warmed up his cool cheek, tying the ending together with repetition that’s now become a habit.

“Welcome home, Haitham.”

“Closed… for construction?...” Your eyes trailed across the bolded letters.

The grand garden was blocked off by iron gates and mossy stonewalls, path dimly lit by dull streetlamps.

It’s your third anniversary, to celebrate a new chapter, a reworked script, you planned this special itinerary. The Pardis Dhyai was the grandest garden in all of Sumeru, and they offered night tours. It was perfect, but it seems that you miscalculated.

“It’s negligence on their part for not having this notification on their website.” Alhaitham’s baritone voice draws you from your thoughts.

You must look so idiotic right now. Getting all dressed up and even coaxing him from the comfort of the house just to bring Alhaitham to a wall. You didn’t fight the slump of your shoulders, the fires of shame licked at your cheeks. You feel the weight of his teal eyes.

“The street market is open tonight, would you like to go there instead?”

What a good husband, stepping in to remedy his wife’s mistakes. Finally gathering the courage to connect with his gaze, you notice the faint twitch of his nose as a breeze passed by.

“Do you not like flowers?”

“Their fragrance is overbearing.”

Recalling the times you’ve shoved an excessive bouquet in front of his face during previous anniversaries, the familiar burn of guilt crept up your back. You just can’t do anything right tonight, huh?

“There’s no point in standing around.” He stretched out a hand towards you, palms waiting.

“... Heh, it’s a good thing it’s closed then huh, Haitham?” Placing your warm hand into his cold grasp, a meek smile stretches your lips.

Alhaitham hums in response, mercifully guiding you in the direction of the night market. As you walked along the dimly illuminated path, your eyes traveled back to the stonewall once more, its height towering even over your husband.

“I’ve never visited this place before… what a shame…” The comment slipped your tongue before you could bite it back.

Alhaitham promptly stops, turning back to glance between you and the mossy wall. The lullabies of crickets filled the nothingness, much like they did during the wedding night. The smile on your face grew tighter, he must think you’re whining.

“Woah??-”

Before you could conquer up a line to transition from this scene, Alhaitham had released your hand, only for his arms to hoist you off the ground.

Tender hold balancing you against his firm frame, you had to tilt your neck down to look at his face. Following the subtle motion of his head you looked in the same direction, eyes widening as realization dawned upon you.

The garden wall towered over the two of you, but as one, you were able to peer over the craggy barrier that once blocked your view. Wind blowing the floral fragrance over your face unobstructed.

“What do you see?” The deep vibrations of his chest resonate against your body.

There was no one here tonight. Just a husband and wife enjoying a moment so private, not even the moon dare intrude. Sweetness meddling with bitter guilt, crafting something bittersweet.

“Flowers…very beautiful flowers,” you answered, gazing beyond the stones.

“It’s a garden after all.”

“Pfft!”

The contrast between this gentle scene and his curt response pushes a laugh from your breath.

Patting his arm, you signaled for him to place you down, and carefully he follows your instruction. Once your feet touched the solid earth again, you pressed your face into his shoulder.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“It’s our anniversary.” The justification of his actions.

“Of course… now let’s go, I want to try the samosas there!” The brightness returns back to your lips.

This time, you lead the way. Warm hands mingle with his cold ones, creating a comfortable temperature as you gallivanted along as one. Under the moonless sky, you told him your first true lie, a full lie.

–

How troublesome, you said you’d clean the library tonight. Looking around at the piles of books littered all throughout and the coating of dust. If only a nap didn’t eat away at the day, then maybe you wouldn’t be so pressed for time.

Oh well, rolling up your sleeves to begin your promised duty. No use in mulling over it, and no use in blaming the nap either. It’s to be expected, after all, tea time is now every three hours.

Alhaitham’s collection of books is nothing to scoff at, in fact, you’re willing to wager his collection rivals those of academic archives.

How long did it take for him to gather them? What criteria must they fit to catch his interest?

Small inquiries bloomed through your thoughts as each journal slid back into its rightful shelves.

It can’t be helped. Finally, after four years, you’re now allowed past the threshold of his library. The last corner of the house which was wholly his. You’re allowed a glimpse into his sanctuary. The exhilaration from this privilege was enough to outweigh the tediousness.

Eyes switching back and forth between the two covers currently in your hands. So focused on deciding between which shelves to place them your ears failed to pick up the poised footsteps coming your way. It took a pair of adamant hands on your shoulders to wake you from these thoughts

“Why weren’t you at the door?” A familiar baritone voice.

Oh, you weren’t mindful of the time at all. Meeting teal irises as you glanced back over a shoulder, not missing the ghost of a furrow between his brow. Alhaitham isn’t one who’s fond of deviations from a practiced script.

“Sorry, sorry I got caught up in these books.” You couldn’t help but giggle.

Placing the books back down and spinning around, cradling his face between your warm palms, you carefully placed a kiss on his cold lips.

“Welcome home, Haitham.” You whispered against them.

Alhaitham hummed as his eyes closed, savoring the sensation of your warmth transferring to him. How unbefitting of such a noble creature, melting into the touch of a mere mortal. What a beautiful view to witness, so lovely in fact, a certain phrase clawed its way to the tip of your tongue.

“I...” You waited for his brilliant beryl eyes to reveal themselves again.

The soft trills of crickets creep in through the window, a call back to a night when an executive decision was reached by both parties to remove necessary lines from the script.

“… wonder if you collect books in place of company.” You’ll heed their warning.

There was a sigh that filled the distance between you.

“They’re great stimulants for the mind, perhaps you should read some.” No hesitation in his sardonic counter to your playfulness.

“Pfft! Haitham, I can’t read half of these languages.”

It’ll be redundant to reinstate such words into a script that wasn’t written for it no? A part of you wonders if the quip was supposed to be a diversion from the faint downward pull of his lips.

The windows were cracked ajar allowing the crisp night breeze into the sanctuary of the bedroom, the new air circulating through helped push out the stuffiness. However, Summer was always too hot for you.

“Haitham.” Under the glow of a waxing moon, your hands reached out.

Soon, the cool cheeks of your husband settled into the space between your palms, taking away the excess heat. You brought him closer, allowing your foreheads to touch.

To never be bothered by the polar extremes of temperature, how nice it is to be born of the supernatural.

“Mmm… It’s been a while, aren’t you hungry?” You broke the comfortable silence.

“I’m fine.” Two firm arms pulled you closer.

His gray lashes were still shut, concealing away the teal stained with hints of scarlet. A tell-tale sign. It’s about five years too late for him to lie to you. Like a stubborn child refusing to take his medicine, where did the arrogant vampire go?

It’ll be best to change tactics, everything must have its fair compensation, a principle Alhaitham follows to its core. Sliding your hands away from his face and down along the contour of his body as your face rests into the crook of his neck.

“It’s really hot tonight.” Warm palms sneaking under the barrier of a shirt.

There’s a hiss that sounds next to your ear as two hands firmly grasp your hips. Emboldened by his reaction, your hands continued to explore his sculpted frame, icy skin stealing away the warmth that smothered you. Alhaitham’s fingers kneaded your hips in contemplation. Moving closer to his ear, your breath ghosted over them.

“Haitham, can you make it go away?” The final push.

A deep growl reverberated against his chest, a sign of his surrender to your whims. A gasp is knocked out of your lips as your back meets with the plush mattress. This time two icy palms traversed the sweltering outline of your skin, goosebumps trailing behind his every touch.

You hummed at the sensation as his hands travel further up, pushing the troublesome fabric of your shirt out of the way, exposing your soft breast to the air. A moan slipped off your tongue as Alhaitham gropes at the soft mounds, placing a kiss in the valley between them, cold fingers playing with the nipples now perked.

Wrapping your legs around his solid frame, your hands tugged at the shirt that blocked your view of his godly body. A silent whine for him to take it off, and like the good husband he is, Alhaitham complies. In return, your shirt was also stripped from your frame, a fair trade. Cheeks stained red from shame your mind was too muddled to process, you blame it on the heat.

More icy kisses trailed along your chest and neck, as cool fingers sneaked under the waistband of your shorts. His icy touches land straight against your puffy lips, labia glistening with slickness. You flinched at the sudden temperature change against your pussy, and his hand twitched at the small surprise.

“Wet already, and nothing underneath…” Alhaitham’s baritone voice reports his finding against your ear.

“Mmm,” you sounded out, shivering at the combination of his voice and teasing fingers.

“How lewd.”

“You don’t like it?”

Instantly, a stiff mass was pressed against the softness of your thighs.

“Do I seem displeased?”

Entangling your fingers into ashen locks, you let a giggle flutter your chest against his. Two hearts beating on opposite sides. Shorts pulled off the length of your legs and kicked to the side, leaving you bare underneath his mercy.

Rolling your hips against his cool palms to generate some friction, your clit begging for an ounce of attention. A quick slap against the sensitive bud jolts your body as you moan, a swift punishment for your impatience.

As if to soothe the lingering sting, his fingers circle the bundle causing your legs to shiver as pleasure runs up them. Your folds release more of their essence, Alhaitham’s fingers collect it, tracing your entrance with fleeting touches. The heat engulfing your body was beginning to become too much, your walls clenching around nothing desperately. Your legs pull him closer, attempting to spur on the tempo.

Your feeble strength is nothing against his, Alhaitham effortlessly pulls away from your trap. A whine left your throat as even his ashen locks freed themselves from your grasp.

“Shh, let me have a taste first.” He pulls you toward the edge of the bed.

Vascular hands gripping onto your thighs, spreading them open to allow him unobstructed access to your dripping greed. A firm hold denies you the opportunity to slither away from the cool breaths hitting your pussy lips.

Alhaitham’s tongue teases its way between your folds, collecting your escaped honey into his mouth as he releases a satisfied grunt. Licking stripes along your pussy, cool lips brushing against your sensitive clit. Your fingers found their way back to his silken locks, the back of your hand blocking your mouth.

Objecting against your cruel act of denying him the privilege of your moans, a finger was abruptly thrusted into your soaked walls with a squelch, causing your back to arch off the sheets. Hand no longer able to withhold the sinful sounds from his awaiting ears.

Another finger soon makes its way into your gummy walls, sliding to curl against that one spot deep within before sliding out and repeating. All the while his lips closed around your delicate bud, suckling and abusing it with his brutish tongue.

He was supposed to cool you down in this unbearable heat, yet your body only burned more under his ministration. Your walls desperately clenched down as your fingers tightened their hold on his ashen hair, trying to find any perch for your sanity to cling to.

Your actions only spurred him on, harsh sucks to your swollen clit and fingers increasing their pace. He wanted to ravish you wholly, to leave you a mess beyond saving. White flashes shoot up your trembling legs still held apart by his iron grip. If he continues then you might really fall beyond the grace of help.

“S-slower.”

Your slurred speech must’ve made your words incoherent, as Alhaitham only added more force behind his movements. Your slicked walls clenched around his fingers as they continued to pinpoint your weak spot, the messy licks and sucks at your clit causing the knot in your core to grow tighter and tighter. Or maybe your husband is just too famished to know mercy.

Back raising off the bed, no matter how hard your fingers cling onto his hair and the messy sheets you couldn’t stop the fall off the edge as your eyes saw the back of your head. A broken moan resounded through the room. Hopefully, it’s too late for anyone on a late-night stroll past the open window. Every fiber of your being shivering and nerve overwhelmed with hot flashes of pleasure. All the while Alhaitham’s tongue never stopped its torture.

Laying bonelessly upon the ruined sheets, hands limp by your side. Your chest heaves trying to remember how to breathe as a large figure looms over you. Your quivering pussy reluctantly released his fingers as a string of slick connected them.

Unfocused eyes watch as your husband’s tongue cleans the essences off, making sure to clean every inch.

You felt so empty inside, the heat between your legs only escalating as your walls clenched around nothing. Was it the heat or pleasure that’s melting your mind? You don’t know and were too desperate to care. You wanted relief from the heat and judging by the hard shape pressed into your thigh, he needed relief too.

Wordless your nimble fingers reached down, curling over the waistbands of his pants and boxers you pulled them down. Finally freeing his cock, it slaps against his naval as the leaking precum spears across his exposed skin. Playfully, your finger toys with his swollen tip, gathering up the precum as a hiss leaves his clenched teeth.

Making sure to look directly into his piercing eyes, you brought the finger into your mouth. Swirling your tongue around the digit and then pulling it out from your lips with an audible pop.

Your shameless behavior earned you a guttural growl from Alhaitham, soon your hand was pinned above your head. His face was just inches away, the brilliant teal of eyes now wholly glazed over with crimson. Everyone is warned to never play with fire, but it’s just too addicting to resist.

“Brazen girl,” he snarls.

You countered with a grin, cheeks a deep red, but what’s there to hide from someone who’s laid you bare numerous times before?

Sucking in a gasp as his thick tip rubbed against your negligent folds, your leaking walls trembling with anticipation. Longing for the stretch only he could offer you.

“Beg.”

Of course, nothing ever comes easily when it comes to him. Self-control honed by years of experience, all held by the iron grip of his analytical mind. A battle you’ll never win, so it’s best to sacrifice your self-respect in favor of your aching pussy. A fool for pleasure, gone far beyond the point of saving.

“Please… I want you to ruin me… please ruin me.” Sinful words rolling off your tongue.

Words that finally snapped the last thread of self-restraint Alhaitham had, instantaneously his hips met yours. Your gummy walls, long ingrained in his shape, welcomed the familiar stretch, clamping down as a wet slap resounded through the room. Alhaitham pushed his cock in further, pinning your body deeper into the mattress, hissing at the heat that engulfed his length.

Your mouth falls open, pleasure shooting through overstimulated nerves, the bed creaking underneath you as his hips pulled away just to snap back. Setting a more punishing pace than usual, the bed shook in protest as your pussy welcomed each thrust, slick walls wrapping around his girth.

Moans flowed out of your mouth like how water flows through rivers, any semblance of embarrassment drowned out by molten pleasure. Two bodies connecting and mingling together to create a private heaven.

Alhaitham’s hand abandons its grip on your wrist in favor of getting more leverage on your hips, purple marks promising to appear in the morning.

Before your muddled mind could process it, icy lips crashed into your plush ones, a tongue crossed the line. Sloppy and hungry was how his mouth devoured yours. Tongues clashing and dancing as he shallows each moan of yours.

He pulls away momentarily as you took the opportunity to steal a few breaths. Scarlet-hazed eyes observe the transgression just committed before his lips moved back to reconnect with yours.

It’s clear he doesn’t give a damn about that arbitrary rule anymore. Why must forbidden acts always feel so good?

Free hands now found purchase on his broad back, nails digging into the smooth skin trying to balance out the onslaught of pleasure invading every fiber of your being. Legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper into the sheets with you never once interrupting his savage pace.

Your attempts at staving off your independent orgasm were futile, teary eyes rolling back as your walls clenched and your body shook.

Alhaitham released your lips in time to savor the broken symphony of a moan leaving your throat, the sheets underneath you a soaking mess, proof of your fall from cloud nine.

Despite this, your husband doesn’t slow down in the slightest. The sight in front of him only heightened the hunger in his eyes.

The solid oak bed frame swayed in time with the pistoning of his thrust, tight walls clamping down yet giving no resistance as his thick tip continued to bully that sweet spot. His chilly breath against your nape, tongue running a wet trail to prepare the area. Sensations your melted mind could barely register.

His fingers dig deeper into your hips as he pulls them flushed against his, thick cock pressing further into your wanton core.

A sharp prick shoots up your nape before the sensation of your walls being filled beyond capacity distracts from it. Your pussy pitifully attempts to suck in every last drop before succumbing, letting his essence join yours in making a mess of the sheets. Trembling hands run along his muscular back, pulling him closer to your heaving chest.

Your pants counted in time with the hands of a clock, shards of your sanity slowly returning to you as gulps moved down Alhaitham’s throat. With a satisfied sigh, his incisors released your neck, tongue lapping over the escaped drops of scarlet.

Slowly pulling away from your embrace, his untainted teal eyes scan over you. Hair fanned out behind you, chest still heaving, and cheeks still violently flushed. You must look absolutely ruined, just as you asked of him.

Carefully, he pulls out from your gummy walls, trembling walls allowed to gather their senses again. Detangling your legs from him with tender hands he repositions your droopy body comfortably along plush pillows.

Humming in gratitude as you rolled onto your stomach, face buried into the luxurious pillows which held his opulent scent. The aftermath of passion gradually faded away from recovering nerves. The space next to you dips down as his frame joins you, a cool hand resting along the curve of your back.

The soft sways of leaves in the night breeze, slowing pants, and the sweet lull of nothingness filled the air of this private haven. Two hearts, one mortal and one immortal, beating together.

“Would you want more time?” Came a question that broke the silence.

A hushed invitation slipped to you behind the watchful eyes of the divine. A lure towards deep waters by his beckoning voice.

Perhaps your curiosity has influenced him as well. All your innocent inquiries must’ve muddled the line, question after question brushing away at the definition until misunderstanding took its place.

This won’t do. Your time is too short and his time too precious to be wasted on miscommunication.

Since it was you who muddled the line, it shall be you who reestablishes it.

“I was born a human,” you began.

Pausing to enjoy the feeling of his cool fingers drawing unknown shapes into your back and the gentle vibrations of his hum.

“I will die as one.”

With those simple words, the line was once again clearly drawn in the sand.

Separating you from him, and him from you. Just as the laws of morals, nature, and this world dictated.

After all, it was you who said: “For a fraction of your time, I’ll give you all of mine”. Not the other way around. The price he’d have to pay is far greater than anything you’re willing to sacrifice.

No, you’re too selfish for that.

Under a waning moon, the market was lively tonight. Bright lanterns and stringed lights challenged the radiance of the sky’s stars. The twinkling momentarily distracts your mind from the cries of your muscles and the aches of your bones.

What a simple thing you are, or perhaps you’re just a human in the purest sense. So entranced by the beauty of a rose, it distracts from the sting of thorns.

Such drab comparisons have no place in your thoughts tonight.

As if to run away from them, your legs moved with volition, weaving in and out of the surges of crowds with clumsy grace, some haggling, some laughing, some yelling.

Glazing up at the moon above, it was as if she was following your every step, watching, judging the performance of this daydream.

It wasn’t long before the volition faded away as you slowed to a halt, lung greedily trying to hog all the air they could. A herbal scent found its way to your senses, a quick glance to your left confirms your suspicions.

It looks like your legs couldn’t carry you far enough in the end. Stopping right in front of a display of dried Kalpalata Lotuses, the moon must be laughing right now.

You weren’t sure which one tasted more bitter, the herb or the irony.

Straightening your posture back up, ready to push through the burn of your muscles once more before a cold grasp grounded you back into reality.

Whipping your head around, bewildered eyes connected with placid teal. There was a furrow in the brows that framed the hypnotic azure.

“Don’t go where my hand can’t reach.” Alhaitham’s atonal voice carried over the chatter of the streets.

Bringing your husband out of the house, only to then leave him alone in a sea of people. What a capricious wife you are.

Perhaps Alhaitham foresaw this exact situation, that’d explain the recent spike in his reclusiveness. Seeing this, a giggle bubbled up in your throat.

“Oh?~ Someone’s been watching my dramas. Where’d you learn that line from?”

As he sighs your giggles only increased, cold fingers loosening around your wrist.

“It’s exceptionally crowded tonight, be mindful of your surroundings.”

You simply nodded along, a sign to him that you’re only absorbing half of his words, another sigh from him and another giggle from you.

“A bag of Kalpalata Lotuses for the two of you tonight as well?” The vendor, ready with a fresh paper bag, intrudes on this raillery.

Your lips pressed into a thin line, silencing your giggles as your eyes trailed over the dulled hues of the dried herb.

Four hours went to three went to two and now down to one. Each cup becoming more and more unpalatable. There comes a point when a bucket can longer keep a sinking ship afloat, perhaps it’s better to gaze upon the starry night as one disappears under the waves.

“Actually… Padisarah tea tastes better, I want a bag of that instead.” A honeyed smile dawned upon your lips as you glazed back up at him.

Alhaitham parts his lips, a response ready to fall off his tongue, but he closes them just as swiftly. Returning a hum of acknowledgment at your request, handing over the mora in exchange for the bag of dried Padisarah.

Your attention has already shifted away from this scene, eyes avoiding the dull hues, finally landing upon wood carved with much creative liberty. There’s enough space for another sculpture no? It’d be nice to add more company to the home.

Before the muscles in your legs could budge, a hand twitched, reminding you of the loose hold still around your wrist.

A good partner should respect the wishes of their spouse. Warm fingers slide into the space between cold ones, intertwining like the lights above with the sky.

All it took was a soft tug for a human to move a vampire through the bustling crowd.

A common phrase uttered to unwell patients is ‘mind over body’.

However, there’s only so much the body can take before it rebels against the mastermind.

Even your own body had enough of your selfishness.

Protest taking the form of wheezes, lethargy, and that piercing ache forever present deep within. You were always the one to toe the line, pushing your luck to the limits and beyond, only stopped by a towering wall.

It’s time to lay rest under silken sheets and plush pillows. Something you’ve been doing very often these days. Perhaps your body is just practicing for the ending.

The cumbersome duvet fails to capture the wisps of warmth only a Sumerian Summer can offer, it fails to prevent the chill from penetrating deep into your every bone.

Dull senses alert you to a shift in weight on the mattress. Fighting against the leaden weight of your lids, you opened your eyes to the sight of your husband.

Ashen hair slightly trussed and button down wrinkled as his frame lays next to yours. He must have come here straight from the door, a once-practiced tradition slowly faded away much like strength from your limbs.

The muscles on his face relaxed, neutral by default, yet his eyes were downturned much like the corners of his lips.

Your husband must be deep in thought. His thumb is digging into his palm again, it seems that Alhaitham has developed a new habit. Hazy eyes carefully focused on how the nail threatened to break the surface of his palm.

That’s no good.

Ignoring the exhaustion, you slipped your fingers in between his, shielding his palm from the assaults of his thumb, settling into a gentle embrace as two rings clinked together.

The weight of a teal gaze centers on you.

“My husband is such a handsome actor.” Breathy voice barely a whisper.

Chest protesting against your action with wheezes, but you needed to finish this script, it's what a co-star should do.

“You don’t have to play this role anymore.” Exposing your neck to him as your lashes fluttered shut, it was time to pay your dues.

Much like the clauses written on parchment signed by two names, the ending of this script must be followed, your body already taking its cue.

At least the doctors were accurate this time, how punctual your body is.

A brisk breath brushed against your nape, skin reacting with a trail of goosebumps as you feel the presence of sharp incisors draws near before grazing against your delicate neck. Your mind counts back, ready for the final pierce of pain to come.

Three… Two… The pressure of his fangs disappears from your skin. Replaced by the touch of gentle lips.

Opening your eyes with confusion and lost anticipation, you were met with stoic eyes.

“You don’t have to hold yourself back.”

“I’m not holding myself back,” Alhaitham answers without the slightest pause.

Your chest wheezes once more at your lung’s clumsy attempt at gathering a breath.

“What a silly vampire,” you giggled, the crimson hues were obvious even to your dimming vision.

After the numerous questions you asked and the innumerable answers he gave these past seven years, you still couldn’t fully comprehend him. Neither of you were the masterminds you thought you were, huh?

In the end, both of you were fools trying to perform a stage play.

Your mind ponders this revelation as Alhaitham tugs the covers up your body, gentle hand running along your body through the thick fabric barrier.

The faint ticks of a clock pull a buried secret from the guard sanctuary of your thoughts, dusting off the obscurity to reexamine the details in full clarity.

What was the end of the path like? Well, just like the scene blocked off by a garden wall under that moonless night, it’s all the same.

Maybe tonight you’ll tell him the truth.

What was over that wall? With its stones piled high and with moss creeping through its crevices, a wall that only creatures born within the grace of an undecided god could peer past. What did it conceal?

Nothing.

A nothingness so empty, ultimate peace could reside.

Seems like you’ve discovered something new in the end, you shameless fool. Death is nothingness in the end, a nothingness that fingers pass right through.

So instead of holding on to nothing, you’d rather grasp a cold hand as nothingness envelopes you. He didn’t seem to mind.

You wanted to tell this to the creature who humored your daydream for all these years. If he doesn’t want your blood then you could at least impart this priceless insight to him.

Oh, it’s such a shame that your tongue just won’t move anymore. Instead, you’ll offer him a smile. In hopes that Alhaitham could decrypt the curvature of your lips with his seven years of experience. To translate your silent message into a language known to man with his lifetimes of wisdom.

It’s all you could do to thank him for holding your hand as the dirge of Summer crickets fade out and the last first rays of a grieving sun kiss the horizon. The final wisp of warmth escaping down your cheek.

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

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novelizt · 6 months

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✨ IT'S BEEN WAITING FOR YOU ✨

📸 1989 TV SONGFIC COLLECTION INCLUDING :

tim drake, draco malfoy, peter parker, gojo satoru, percy jackson, anthony lockwood

❗Unfinished prompts are subject to change. Fics with no hyperlinks are coming soon!

📷 TRACK 1 : Welcome To New York

“ IT'S BEEN WAITING FOR YOU ” — TIM DRAKE

you start life at the big apple and unexpectedly meet a fortune teller who informs you of the name of your future husband. you try not to think too hard about it, but it's difficult. considering your boss has the same name as your future husband.

📷 TRACK 2 : Blank Space

“ DON'T SAY I DIDN'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU ” — DRACO MALFOY

you act like a devil to get your husband to divorce you. only to discover that pushing him away only makes him hold on tighter.

📷 TRACK 3 : Style

“ WE NEVER GO OUT OF STYLE ” — TIM DRAKE

wayne enterprise heir x stark industries heiress

rivals in public, lovers in secret ; two heirs have an explicit arrangement because they can't risk their public image with anyone else.

📷 TRACK 4 : Out Of The Woods

“ WE WERE IN SCREAMING COLORS ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

you think you're hard to love, but he loves you like it's breathing.

📷 TRACK 5 : All You Had To Do Was Stay

“ ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS STAY ” — DRACO MALFOY

you and draco meet again after he had ignored you years before. he wants to tell you why he'd left but he doesn't know how you'd react to him being a criminal.

📷 TRACK 6 : Shake It Off

“ PLAYERS GONNA PLAY ” — GOJO SATORU

it's embarrassing to know that the rumors about you reach other schools. one faithful day, gojo satoru gives you unsolicited advice about doing the shit you want because you'd get hate whether or not you'd do it anyway. a bottle of wine later, and you begin to think he's right.

📷 TRACK 7 : I Wish You Would

“ I WISH YOU WOULD ” — PETER PARKER

your long-time friendship with peter had gone sour. after years of trying to put you behind bars, peter tries to save you from kraven, but you're not sure if you can trust him anymore.

“ I WISH WE COULD GO BACK AND REMEMBER WHAT WE WERE FIGHTING FOR ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

PEERING EYES OVER WROUGHT-IRON FENCES

📷 TRACK 8 : Bad Blood

“ STILL GOT THE SCARS ON MY BACK FROM YOUR KNIFE ” — DRACO MALFOY

turning from childhood friends to enemies, and then learning to tolerate each other after the war is a storm waiting to happen. especially when he had tried to kill you and failed.

📷 TRACK 9 : Wildest Dreams

“ SAY YOU'LL REMEMBER ME ” — PERCY JACKSON

you and percy agree to only see each other for the summer but as august draws to a close, it gets harder and harder to untangle your fingers from his.

📷 TRACK 10 : How You Get The Girl

“ FOR WORSE OR FOR BETTER ” — PERCY JACKSON

hitman! percy

percy is hired to kill an important man in singapore, not expecting to meet and fall for his target's daughter.

📷 TRACK 11 : This Love

“ THIS LOVE CAME BACK TO ME ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

you're back in town. as promised, lockwood welcomes you with open arms. the only difficulty was the fact that you kissed the last time you saw each other.

📷 TRACK 12 : I Know Places

“ I KNOW PLACES ” — PETER PARKER

marvel x pjo crossover ; daughter of athena! reader

peter's only trying to protect you but you're more scared of him than you are of the monsters coming after you.

📷 TRACK 13 : Clean

“ I THINK I AM FINALLY CLEAN ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

lockwood was cursed to be alone. you prove that your love can break curses.

📷 TRACK 14 : Wonderland

“ YOU AND I GOT LOST IN IT ” — TIM DRAKE

you and tim are thrown into wonderland by mad mod. the line between fantasy and reality blur; now, tim stares at you like he wishes you weren't enemies.

“ IT'S ALL FUN AND GAMES 'TIL SOMEBODY LOSES THEIR MIND ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

fantasy au!

you were a princess and you liked to dress in gold. one day, you're snatched by a dragon. come to find out that the dragon is a shape-shifting boy who thought you were a statue.

📷 TRACK 15 : You Are In Love

“ TRYING TO PUT IT INTO WORDS ” — TIM DRAKE

it's hard to find the right words to explain why you love tim.

📷 TRACK 16 : New Romantics

“ I CAN BUILD A CASTLE OUT OF ALL THE BRICKS THEY THROW AT ME ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

you recruit the daring anthony lockwood to stage a relationship that will rile up the press.

— FROM THE VAULT !!

📷 TRACK 17 : "SLUT!"

“ LOVELORN AND NOBODY KNOWS ” — PETER PARKER

a publication comes out, announcing that your hero selves are dating. now, you and peter have to distance yourselves because one, mary jane watson—renowned journalist, has been suspecting you of having an alter ego.

“ IN A WORLD OF BOYS, HE'S A GENTLEMAN ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

lockwood is tasked with the important task of protecting a foreign princess, you. you discovered that you liked his boyish charms more than expected.

📷 TRACK 18 : Now That We Don't Talk

“ THE MORE I GAVE, YOU'D WANT ME LESS ” — CHILDE

how bad can it be, to sleep with the enemy?

📷 TRACK 19 : Say Don't Go

“ I'M YOURS, BUT YOU'RE NOT MINE ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

fantasy au!

you are the heir to the throne, soon to be coronated. he is your loyal guard. when repressed feelings come bubbling to the surface, it's hard to keep away. except, he has to, because a prince should be standing next to you, not him.

📷 TRACK 20 : Suburban Legends

“ BORN TO BE SUBURBAN LEGENDS ” — PETER PARKER

you became strangers when you thought you'd spend your whole lives together. one faithful day, peter gets sucked into an old polaroid picture, returning to the day it was taken; your 18th birthday.

📷 TRACK 21 : Is It Over Now?

“ FAST FORWARD TO 300 TAKEOUT COFFEES LATER ” — PETER PARKER

you and peter agreed to stop whatever was happening between you two for his sake. it wasn't good to date your employer's daughter, after all. the task wasn't easy when you work at the same place.

📷 HIDDEN TRACK : Sweeter Than Fiction

“ PROVED ME RIGHT WHEN YOU PROVED THEM WRONG ” — PETER PARKER

a lot of people had a lot to say about peter when his identity was revealed. he revered how you stuck by his side through all of that, even if all you did was run a fan account.

Feel free to message me if you want to be tagged in a certain fic 😊 I'm open to just squealing about our boys and/or Taylor Swift !!

🦋 — @novelizt 2023

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wishingstarinajar · 6 months

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💫 Info Pin! 💫

Heya, welcome to my blog! I am Wish, a hobbyist artist and fanfic writer who likes Undertale skeleton dudes, robot dudes, bunnies, and space and autumn aesthetics! 🦴🤖🐇🌌🍂

Please browse my blog at your own leisure and make sure to curate your own online experience, thank you~✨

Blog Info:

✦ Asks: Open! Feel free to ask me or my OCs any questions. I might doodle an answer if inspiration strikes. Check out my FAQ first though!

✦ FAQ: You can read it here.

✦ Tags: I use them actively! This includes character tags for easier searching and little thoughts/comments not included in the description. My main tags:

Art tag: #wish art

Answered Asks tag: #Q and A

Text/info/ramble post tag: #wish talks

✦ Undertale AU Master Post: There are several Tumblr side blogs for my Undertale AUs and characters. If you want more info on any of them, you can find the list here.

✦ Other side blogs:

@wishingsparkjar (Transformers related)

@sliceofaether (Final Fantasy 14 related)

@alys-the-eliatrope (Wakfu related)

====

PS: ❌ Please DO NOT repost, edit, trace or sell my art and designs, or role play as my characters. Character AI bots of my characters are not accepted. ❌ I don’t ship my characters with strangers, only very close friends. Sorry! ✔️ I support gift and fan art. Please tag/credit me so I can give it all of my love!

====

✧ Check out my Carrd for my commission status and where else to find me.

Thank you and have a nice day or night!

#pinned post #blog info #info pin #will be updated when needed #wish art

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iiseult · 7 months

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RED-HANDED: Gyutaro x reader - College!AU (part 1)

CWs -> surprise! It’s pervy!Gyutaro, femdom reader, masturbation, degradation, spit play, public sex, slapping (only once and he likes it), calling Gyu a good boy, he’s pathetic and I love him

Note: Does this count as Kinktober? I really wanted to participate this month but I’m an engineering student in college, so enough said. I’ll make part two likeeeee whenever I feel like it. Pls lmk what u think!!!! <3

word count: 3k

It was Gyutaro’s turn to host the study session. All day he had been running around, cleaning his dorm room to eliminate anything potentially embarrassing. He’d never had a girl over before, let alone a girl like you, and he might have been overthinking it a little. Would you be turned off by the socks his roommate had left lying around? What about the smell? Should he hide the protein powder? He had such a big, fat crush on you, and every time he thought about the two of you spending time alone together, the intrusive thoughts would beat out the rational thoughts. In no time at all, he’d be succumbing to his sexual fantasies, fisting his cock desperately to images of you and trying to rid his mind of them to no avail. How was he going to survive a night of your undivided attention?

Originally, it wasn’t supposed to be a one-on-one thing. Every Tuesday, a different friend from the group hosted a late-night study session at their dorm, and everyone except Gyutaro had already volunteered. He couldn't avoid it any longer; he was doomed. It was supposed to be you, your best friend, his roommate, Gyutaro, and Gyutaro’s roommate, but everyone got frat flu the previous weekend and had to take a rain check. Even Gyutaro’s own roommate couldn’t make it, deciding to go home for the rest of the week and recover. So, everyone had canceled. That is, everyone except you and Gyutaro. He was thinking of just calling the whole thing off after that, secretly relieved to avoid having people over his place for a little longer, but you wouldn’t hear of it. Your midterm was on Thursday, and you couldn’t lose a valuable study session.

It was already 7:50 pm– 10 minutes before you were scheduled to arrive– and he was taking care of some last-minute, anxiety-fueled cleaning. The bed was already made, the garbage had been taken out, all his laundry was clean and neatly folded away, and his desk was set up for a long night of studying. He had even sprayed a few bursts of his roommate’s air freshener, making the whole place stink of “fresh morning dew,” whatever that was. In those last 10 minutes before your arrival, Gyutaro even found himself practicing basic hygiene– something a bit out of the ordinary for him. He brushed his teeth and tongue vigorously until his gums bled, washed his face, applied an extra layer of deodorant, and re-did the bun his hair had been rotting in all day. Now, he was ready.

At precisely 8:01 pm, he heard a knock at the door, and sprang to his feet as if the chair he had been sitting on was on fire. He had been staring off into space and nervously tapping his foot in anticipation, wringing his hands and chewing at his lip and fighting back dirty thoughts about what you might be wearing, and before he knew it, the time had come. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Evening, Gyutaro,” you said, half-smiling and leaning to the left under the weight of the heavy bag that was slung over your shoulder. As usual, you were well-dressed, sporting a white button-down, brown blazer, and a pair of blue jeans that fit you perfectly. He tried not to stare, but the top two buttons of your shirt had come undone, and he couldn’t help but notice how exposed your cleavage was. He gulped. This was going to be a long, long night.

“C-come in, make yourself comfortable. You can sit wherever you want,” he said, grinning nervously, stepping to the side and holding the door open to allow you entry. You nodded and brushed past him, your clothed shoulder grazing him gently. He shivered, hoping you wouldn’t notice. As soon as you entered the room, you made a b-line for Gyutaro’s bed, thrusting your bag onto it and plopping down unceremoniously on your back. You let out a sigh. The day had been stressful, and you wanted so badly to relax and release some tension, but there was work to be done.

After lying down for a few seconds to decompress, you noticed that it was oddly silent and sat up, half expecting Gyutaro to have joined you on the bed by now. But Gyutaro hadn’t moved from the doorway. He was still standing there, slack-jawed and staring. He couldn’t believe a girl was in his bed– you were in his bed– and she was there of her own free will. You had wanted to come, asking him not to cancel, and you had chosen his bed as the place to spend the evening. Not the desk and chair, not the floor, not the couch, but his bed. He gulped. He had imagined this many times before, and seeing you like that caused a specific few images to flash across his mind. His cock twitched. You were staring back at him.

“Gyu? Are you coming?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and readjusting yourself so there was room for him to sit next to you. He quickly shook himself out of his stupor and closed the door, walking awkwardly over to join you, hoping that if he put his hands in the pockets of his shorts you wouldn’t notice the growing bulge underneath them. When he reached the bed, he leaned his hips against the edge of it and crossed his arms, attempting to conceal his embarrassment. If you had noticed, you showed no signs of it, just crossing your legs and getting a little bit more comfortable.

“So, um… What subject did you want to study? Maybe we could work through some textbook problems together, or…” he trailed off, his eyes darting around and landing anywhere but you.

“Sure, sounds good. Hey, it’s hot in here, do you have a fan or something?” you asked, looking around and fanning yourself with your hand. Gyutaro frowned deeply and shook his head, suddenly feeling like a complete failure for not being able to provide you comfort.

“I’m sorry, I don’t. Maybe I could open a window?” he offered, gesturing to the pathetically small window on the other side of the room.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I’ll improvise,” you replied. He was about to ask what you meant, but stopped short when your hands flew to your button-down shirt, undoing two more buttons from the top like it was nothing.

“Wh-what are you d-doing?!” He stuttered, looking away from you and at the wall instead to try and distract his racing thoughts. Even though he tore his gaze away as soon as he realized what you were doing, he still couldn’t help but see the very top rim of your nude-colored bra poking out from your shirt teasingly. Not to mention the swell of your plump breasts. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to calm himself down and stop his now fully erect cock from getting any bigger.

“Gyutaro? What’s wrong, are you okay?” You purred, leaning down so you were face-to-face. He opened his eyes. That was a mistake. From the way you were sitting, he had a perfectly unobstructed view of your cleavage, which was spilling out of your bra and unbuttoned shirt. He guessed that your nipples were just below where the fabric began. His eyes widened, and a jolt of electricity was sent straight to his cock, which was straining desperately against the side of the bed. He let out a tiny, almost inaudible whimper, but due to your proximity, it was not lost on you. You gently placed a hand on his shoulder, asking again if everything was ok, but there was a teasing undertone to your voice and a glint in your eyes that he hadn’t noticed before. Were you really…doing this on purpose?

“Uhm, don’t you think you sh-should, you know, b-button your shirt back up a…a little more?” he stammered, face flushed so red that he looked almost feverish. His eyes were still wide, and absolutely glued to your tits, like he was in a trance.

“Why? You don’t think I look pretty like this?” you teased, leaning forward even more and trailing your hand from his bony shoulder down to his bicep, which was, admittedly, larger than you’d anticipated. You wondered if anything else about him was larger than you’d anticipated…

“N-no! I mean, no, it’s not that! You…hah…look…” he rasped, not even able to form a complete sentence. He was no idiot. He knew what you were doing, playing with him like that. He knew you didn’t have any real interest in him, that you just wanted some easy attention from a pathetic virgin who would drool over anything with a cup size. It hurt, knowing that, and he didn’t want it to be that way. But just as much as that was true, he also wanted to know what it would feel like. Would it be as good as he imagined, cupping your heavy tits in his ugly, rough hands and running his thumbs over your sensitive nipples? Would you arch into his touch, begging for more?

Before you could even react, he was out the door, disappearing down the hallway towards the men’s room. You could only guess what he intended to do there. Probably cry, you assumed, having seen the expression on his face before he left. Instead of following him, you decided to give him a minute, hoping he’d come back before too long.

Meanwhile, Gyutaro knew what he had to do. He had to get rid of these feelings, get it out of his system once and for all. Thankfully, the bathroom was deserted and he had the luxury of solitude. He hoped he could get it done quickly before someone interrupted.

Gyutaro locked himself in a stall and pulled his pants down feverishly, finally freeing his throbbing cock and taking it expertly into his big hand. He wasted no time, pumping his fist up and down to the image of your tits in his face, imagining what it would be like to touch them, to take them in his mouth and suck them until they were black and blue. Before long, his head was thrown back and he was letting out soft, desperate pants. In fact, he was so enraptured in his fantasy that he didn’t notice when someone else entered the bathroom.

You had decidedly waited for him long enough, and went to go check to make sure he really was ok, but this was not what you were expecting to find. When you quietly opened the door, you were about to whisper his name when you noticed the wet slapping sound and choked-back moans coming from the first stall. You peered under the door and sure enough, your eyes were met with the sight of Gyutaro’s bottom half, shorts pooled around his ankles and legs shaking. You grinned. This was even better than you had hoped. Did that little trick you pulled really affect him this much?

“Gyuuu~ it’s just me! Open the door,” you said gently, hoping your sweet tone would lull him into a false sense of security. Suddenly, he went silent, freezing with his fist squeezing his cock. Panic seized him, and he was silent for a moment.

“Uh! Uhhh, h-how did you g-get in here?” he choked out, not knowing what else to say.

“Walked. C’mon, open up. Wanna see you,” you replied, now standing directly in front of his stall’s door. He hesitated for a moment, but soon made up his mind; he didn’t care anymore, he couldn’t stand it any longer and he wanted you to use him. He scrambled to quickly pull up his shorts and underwear, not even bothering to retie the drawstring, and opened the door hastily. His face was burning with shame, his eyes downcast, and his hair disheveled. To you, he had never looked more delicious.

“What are you doing?” you asked, taking a step towards him, forcing him to take a step back.

“Using the bathroom…” he lied, stuffing his hands back in his pockets again to try and hide his erection. Unfortunately for him, all it did was draw your attention downwards.

“You don’t have to hide it, Gyu. I already know. Why do you think I came tonight in the first place?” you asked, not even trying to hide the fact that you were eyeing his bulge hungrily.

“But-”

“Now keep going,” you ordered, and Gyutaro’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He didn’t move.

“I said,” you began, grabbing his chin between your thumb and index finger, “Keep. Going.”

He whimpered, biting his lip, but obediently dropped his pants and underwear back down to his ankles and released his dick, the tip of which was bright red and slathered with precum. You moved your hand from his chin to his shoulder and pressed down, forcing him to sit back on the toilet. Now, you were standing above him, looking down with a perfect view. You looked at him expectantly, and slowly, he brought a shaking hand down to his shaft, gingerly engulfing it in his hand and giving it a few weak pumps. You shook your head disapprovingly, frowning at him. His eyes widened.

“This won’t do. You need…extra encouragement. Open your mouth,” you instructed.

“Why?” he asked demurely, but did as you asked. You didn’t answer verbally, instead choosing to show him why.

You pressed your thumb past his lips and onto the middle of his tongue, and his reaction was almost immediate. He stuck his tongue out more to accommodate your finger, eyes half-lidded and gazing up at you with…love? Lust? It was impossible to distinguish between the two when it came to him. Without a second thought, he resumed stroking his dick at the same pace as before, his body seemingly acting with a mind of its own. You smiled, pressing down harder on his tongue. His brows furrowed and a string of saliva dripped out of the corner of his mouth, falling past his chin and onto the floor. He let out a pathetic, strangled sort of sound, breathy and high-pitched, and you giggled. He was even better than you had imagined.

“Wowww, what a good boy!” you praised.

“Do you think you can take another one of my fingers?”

“Uh-huh! Eea, I eeea!” he tried to say, coming across as incoherent, but you got the message loud and clear. You smiled down at him lovingly and swapped your thumb for your index and middle fingers, which were obviously longer and grazed the back of his throat. Immediately, he gagged, his eyes involuntarily screwing shut, tears pricking their corners, but you didn’t relent. He would adjust.

“Come on, you can take it,” you crooned, thrusting your digits even further back into his soft, wet throat. He gagged again and bit down, catching your knuckles between his jagged teeth. He hadn’t bitten you very hard, but still, the sting of your skin breaking slightly was enough.

Without warning, you slapped him across the face with the palm of your other hand, making him yelp and accidentally squeeze his cock a little tighter. The sound echoed throughout the bathroom, ringing in the silence. He was shocked, even a little scared, but for some reason, it was affecting him heavily. After hesitating only for a brief second, he started pumping himself desperately, even faster than before, feeling like all the blood in his entire body had rushed to his cock at once the second your palm made contact with his cheek. You grinned. You knew it, you just knew it. You had a feeling he would like that. It was a risky move, but one you were glad you made. He let out another moan, the first real unrestrained one you had heard from him. The vibrations made your fingers tingle.

“Mmm, good boy, you’re being such a good boy for me, Gyu. Bet you’re getting close now, aren’t you?” you asked, removing your fingers from his mouth and allowing him to answer properly.

“Y-yes!” he breathed, “‘m getting so close, ‘m gonna cum soon! Please, c’n I cum?” he begged, tear-filled eyes gazing up at you in absolute desperation. And how could you say no to that?

“In a second. Stick out your tongue.”

He did, closing his eyes, eagerly ready to accept whatever you would give him, but nothing could have prepared him.

You leaned down close and spit in his mouth.

Immediately, he came.

“Ngh- Ahh! Huh- ah- ah- mmh!” he whined, voice breaking as the thick, white liquid shot violently out of his aching dick, covering his hand, your shirt, and part of his own shirt in globs of it. He worked himself through it, a few more spurts bubbling out from his tip and leaking down the shaft. There was so much of it, you knew he was holding it in for so long because of you. His thighs shook from the aftershock, and his chest heaved, he was so fucked out. You wanted so badly to just take off your panties and sink down onto his glistening length, sheathing him inside your already soaking, tight pussy to hear him whine that it was too much, but that would have to wait for another time. Maybe a time when you weren’t in a public restroom.

“Clean yourself up and meet me back in your room. There’s something else I want to try.”

With that, you left him sitting there, cock in hand, covered in his own hot cum and wondering if it had all just been a dream.

(pt. 2)

———-

tag list: @sanemisstalker @vampcubus @flametrashira

ermmmmm idk how tagging ppl works but if I tagged u it’s cause I want u to read this shit but no pressure :-)

#idk what this is #there will be a part two #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro smut #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x reader #kinktober 2023 #dom!reader

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sorryimananti-romantic · 10 months

Text

Horizon (Chapter 1)

series masterlist

faerieprince!san x oc

royal/fantasy au, soulmate au

chapter wc: ~20k

chapter warnings: fluff, angst, tragedy, violence warnings, mention of death/su!cide, past traumas, a lot of atz interactions

chapter synopsis: gaeul gains consciousness after coming back from the dead, finding her magic reversing. the eight faerie princes and the princess can feel her presence disrupting the flow of nature. as wooyoung comes across gaeul and offers his help along with jongho, san arrives and finds that his connection with gaeul is unique. they start connecting dots and realise this might be the doing of an old enemy. seonghwa and yena worry it might be a result of a time anomaly. elsewhere, hongjoong sets to investigate the source and the case of the missing faeries with mingi, yeosang and yunho.

All Gaeul knew as dark spots started appearing in front of her eyes was the utter wrongness of this all.

All that she knew nothing of.

Nothing made sense anymore. The pain coursing through her body made her hurl her guts out into the potted plant in front of her and she almost fainted. She barely heard the passersby panic as they watched her skin turn from a dangerous pale to a flushed colour, to their surprise. Usually it was the other way.

Gaeul's head threatened to explode with the pain. She couldn't register anything at that moment. She didn't feel two wrinkly yet feminine hands grab her by the arms. She didn't feel someone carry her on their back. Neither did she recall how exactly she passed out.

She just knew that everything was wrong. She was supposed to be dead, yet she was breathing-

Everything was wrong, wrong, wrong-

—----------------

The glass of wine shattered dramatically on the floor, the red colour of the drink staining the white rug, to everyone's disappointment but more so surprise. San blinked a few times as if coming out of a trance.

"Are you okay?" Seokmin frowned, for once worried, unlike his usually cheerful and 'everything is fun and games unless someone is dying' manner. Though one could argue that he worried more than the rest.

San nodded, resting his hand on the ash ends of his overgrown hair. He bent down to pick up the shards but one of the cleaners made it disappear with a wave of his hand. San nodded in silent thanks.

"You don't look like it, man, I'm just saying," San’s Right Hand glanced at Mingyu who nodded, the two of them ganging up to stare at San. "You've been more clumsy ever since we came back from Wooyoung’s kingdom four months ago."

“I think he’s been clumsier ever since Antares.”

Antares, in Hongjoong's Kingdom. The City of Lights, representative of the Prince of Light itself. The place where everything concluded.

Everything, San summed it up in his head. The past two years had been the strangest of his life. He had somehow ended up meeting Yeosang's lost twin, Yena. The Princess of Space to the Prince of Spirit. San had also ended up helping the Lost Princess who wasn't aware of her identity at that time. During that process, he helped reclaim her powers and brought her back into everyone's life. Watched her battle her worst enemy who was once her best friend. Watched her fall in love with Seonghwa, the Prince of Dark. What a pair they made-

"San?" Mingyu called out and San hummed in response, aware that he hadn't really been listening to whatever he had said. "Where's your mind right now?"

"Away, away," San almost sang, playing it off with a smile sent at his guard. "Lost in the complexity of time and space."

"I get that," Seokmin agreed. "Sometimes when I'm working, this sudden realisation dawns upon me- ahh, that's what happened! You know? You suddenly recall something and realise how fate played us all for Princess Yena."

"Exactly," San laughed. "I mean, we did relive some piece of our life twice because she time travelled to save Seonghwa. I like to think back and wonder how it happened."

"You've been doing a lot of that lately. You don't look well, San," Mingyu was worried. "You've been way too clumsy on your feet. You'd think as the Prince of Earth, you'd be steadier."

"I've only grown weary," San got up, looking pointedly at the two of his closest court members. "I just need to rest. I'm absolutely fine. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

“There’s also the matter of the missing faeries- the number has risen from two to six in the last few months,” Seokmin sighed, showing San the reports. San scrolled through them, not really reading but thinking as Seokmin explained. “No traces detected. But a common occurrence is that all of them went missing in the thick of the forest or near the river. One witness reported some sort of a creature-”

“Could be a shapeshifter who’s doing the deed then,” San tossed the reports. “Send guards at the sites to investigate- and go along with them, the both of you. I need you two to report to me as soon as possible.”

Before the two of them could protest, San strolled outside the office, walking casually enough to his chamber. Once he was in the privacy of his room, he rushed to the sink and washed his face with cold water, watching his hands shake.

His heart had sank dangerously a few minutes ago- it wasn't the usual nervousness. It was a sign that something was wrong in this land- something so wrong unlike anything he had ever felt before. Maybe the ‘creature’ wasn’t even a faerie at all. Maybe that’s what it was.

Something was absolutely, utterly wrong. And it was calling out to him.

—----------------

"Madame! Wake up! Can you hear me?"

Gaeul clenched her eyes shut, wondering if she could cease to exist. But the voice only grew louder, forcing her to reality and she opened her eyes after a few not so gentle taps to her cheek.

"You need to drink this," the old woman forced the tip of the bowl to her mouth, making Gaeul swallow the bitter liquid that could only be medicine. She wanted to tell her that no medicine would work on her. How she knew that, she wasn't aware but she just knew, and she had only proven it in the previous few days as she threw up anything she ate, bleeding from her nose or eyes a few times a day, fainting horribly and whatnot.

The healers believed she was cursed at this point. They had never seen a faerie who could be in this condition and not simply die. It's like the very thing that had forced her into this condition was also the thing keeping her alive.

"Where am I?" Gaeul asked, aware that she didn't have much time before she would start feeling sick again. She looked at the various shelves lined with jars of what looked like anything from food to medicine to potions. A few frames of what looked like her family sat on the table by the fireplace.

"It's my house but also a clinic," the woman passed her a wet towel to wipe her face.

"No, I mean… What city? What kingdom?"

"Oh dear," she tucked Gaeul's dark hair behind her ears. "You're in Nunki. Kingdom of Sagittarius? Prince Wooyoung's territory? Recall how you got here?"

Oh she recalled, alright. Somehow, she had found herself in the middle of a forest, no memory of how she had gotten there. Gaeul recalled bits and pieces- something that she wasn't sure was memory, past life, or worse. Or maybe it was both- she had no idea. All she recalled right now was what might have been her 'death'- killed by the man with hair the colour of blood. Why? She did not recall.

But if it really was a recent memory, how was she alive without a scar of that blow? How was she here, existing? Or was it just her imagination, a dream? Gaeul almost scratched her hair out and the old woman who had gone to get her some snacks frowned at her.

"Maybe we should take you to the High Healers. I've never heard or seen something like this, I'll tell you the truth. I can't do much except give you rejuvenating potions."

"Uh, thank you, but I think I'll pass-" she coughed, her hand reflexively going to cover her mouth, feeling something wet- blood.

Internal bleeding? Great, she thought. Just what she needed.

"Yeah… I think not," the woman rolled her sleeves determinedly, setting her herbs down. "Wash up if you can, I'm calling the carriage."

Gaeul decided she was too weak to protest so she got up with immense struggle and made it to the toilet, retching her guts out and crying before coming out.

"See? You look a mere second away from death. Let's go."

—--------------

“Ah, the air doesn’t smell right these days.”

“Maybe you should admit that your sense of smell has gotten weak,” Siyeon looked at her Prince. Wooyoung frowned at her.

“I’m the Prince of Air. There’s no way my sense of smell can get bad.”

“Maybe he just sniffed himself,” Changbin commented as he walked in front of the two, dumping their camping bags in front of them unceremoniously. “What do you think?”

Siyeon grinned and Wooyoung shook his head at his Right Hand and Guard. “You lot will never understand.”

After bickering back and forth for a few moments while the three set up their tent, Wooyoung went to wash his face at the stream just a few feet ahead while Changbin and Siyeon looked at each other, worried.

“You’re thinking what I’m thinking?” Changbin asked.

“Last time he smelled something funny, it was Princess Yena. Remember how he complained about smelling something strange ever since she stepped on this continent?”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Changbin watched the Prince wipe his face and look at the mountains distantly. “I mean, everything’s been peaceful. It’s been more than two years, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Siyeon bit her lip nervously. “Let me casually ask him what exactly smells so strange to him later.”

“You two look awfully serious,” Wooyoung commented as he walked back, sitting in front of the wood that Siyeon had gathered. Siyeon sat cross-legged in front of him, lighting a fire with a click of her fingers.

“We’re not always cackling like someone I know,” she grinned and Wooyoung rolled his eyes.

“I have to admit that it’s nice to be out,” he leaned back, looking up at the cloudy sky. “I haven’t really had time to breathe ever since we came back from Antares, isn’t that so?”

“Yep,” Changbin said. “It was busier than we expected.”

“Well, the Lost Princess was found and now she rightfully sits on her throne. The people still have mixed feelings.”

“Can’t blame them, but if they knew of the hell that she, that you all have been through for peace to come… I think they will stop complaining.”

“Well, we can’t exactly tell people that the Princess went back in time and travelled different dimensions to defeat the monster- that darkling who could very well have destroyed our planet,” Wooyoung looked at Siyeon, having proven his point, inhaling deeply and wrinkling his nose.

“You still smell something funny?” Changbin teased.

“What exactly can you smell?” Siyeon asked casually.

“I don’t know, is what’s strange,” Wooyoung sighed, looking grim. “It’s not far. But it’s… nothing I’ve ever smelt before. With Yena, I could feel her magic and tell that it resembled Yeosang, but this? This just smells… wrong, somehow. Not of this world. I can’t really pinpoint the source either.”

Siyeon straightened- as the Prince’s Right Hand, jokes and teasing aside, she knew never to take anything he said unseriously. “Do you think it’s a darkling?”

“No, it’s not that,” Wooyoung looked sure, sniffing the air again for good measure. “If faeries, minus their magic scent, smell like honey, darklings have this inherent ‘burnt’ scent. Like burnt wood- not necessarily the bad kind. I can’t smell magic on whatever this thing is. I only smell… burnt honey. Does that make sense?”

Changbin couldn’t help but scoff at that. “A mix?”

“No, no, nevermind what I just said,” Wooyoung straightened. “This just smells… wrong. Like it’s not supposed to be here. Look at this,” Wooyoung slid his sleeve up, showing the raised hair on his arms. “I literally have goosebumps just after a whiff of it.”

“What if it’s your soulmate?” Siyeon wiggled her brows and Wooyoung narrowed his eyes at her.

“I don’t think my soulmate would smell wrong to me, Siyeon. Jokes aside, should we inspect?”

“Isn’t today your day off?” Changbin asked.

“Well,” Wooyoung got up, brushing his clothes, shaking his head so the dark tendrils of his hair messed up before he swept them back. “I don’t think us Princes can ever have a day off. And there’s also the matter of the missing faeries. There really can’t be peace even among the same race, huh?”

Siyeon scoffed. “Our fathers gave their lives to transport all faerie-kind to this planet, away from the cruelty of humans and darklings, and all it takes is two decades before we start acting like the very creatures we ran away from.”

“Let’s hope it is only a faerie, Siyeon,” Wooyoung looked grim. “Let’s hope.”

—----------------

Gaeul was pretty sure that she had passed out for most of the carriage ride before the woman stopped the carriage, waking her up.

“We’ve travelled for six hours now. I stopped two hours ago too but you were out cold. Now is the time to wash up and eat something. We’re stopping at an inn, come on now.”

Gaeul sat up straight, waiting for her head to stop spinning. “Are we staying here for the night?”

“That’s right,” she said, extending a hand and Gaeul took it as she jumped down, grateful the woman had not put her in a dress- just loose trousers and a shirt. “Come on, let’s get you inside and see if you can eat.”

She ordered soup and bread for Gaeul and she played with the bread, not feeling very hungry though her stomach grumbled. “Why are you helping me?”

“Why not?” She said, urging Gaeul to eat. “I’m not going to ask you to return the favour, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m just doing my duty. I’m going to drop you off at the High Healers and then you can forget about me, if that’s what you wish.”

“No, no, I… I didn’t mean it like that. Thank you for helping me,” Gaeul folded her arms, hugging herself. “It’s just… I wish I hadn’t been a burden to you.”

“Well, thanks to you, I get to meet my old friends in the palace,” the woman smiled and Gaeul sighed internally.

The Palace. She had forgotten the High Healers resided in the same space as the Prince. She briefly wondered if she would get to see Prince Wooyoung from afar.

“I can’t eat more,” Gaeul apologised and the woman told her not to force herself. She led her to a room, Gaeul taking the mattress and sitting down in front of the window, staring wistfully at the two suns that lit the sky, the purple one brighter than the orange, casting a dark but purple glow across the night sky with a slight orange tint.

Now that her head was clearer, she could recall something that felt like her own life, yet she watched it through a third eye. Fragments of herself playing on the beach, using her magic to grow flowers out of thin air or breathe life into dying animals- was she a healer? She couldn’t exactly recall. Gaeul raised her hands in the air, willing some sort of magic to come to her but she felt worse than empty. There was this pit in her heart that she was sure had never been there before. And it felt wrong.

Gaeul tried harder but it only made blood trickle down her nose and before she could wipe it, she fainted into the endless bliss.

—-----------------

Yena woke up covered in sweat and out of breath again.

She was glad Seonghwa was beside her. He was sleeping peacefully and Yena smiled at that, sliding out of the covers careful not to wake him up as she tiptoed to the bathroom, wanting to take off everything and just sit in some cold water.

She let the cold water soak her body, sliding down the tub until the tip of her chin touched the surface. She shut her eyes and tried to recall if she had seen a nightmare, but as the several times before, she knew she had seen no dream or nightmare. She had simply woken up, feeling that something wasn’t right.

This feeling wasn’t new to Yena at all. Her magic was very sensitive and she could sense something wrong even when her magic was blocked and she wasn’t aware of her identity. But this feeling was new, and it unsettled her in ways that she couldn’t explain. Like an impending doom.

She almost jumped out of her skin when she felt Seonghwa’s hand on her hand, sighing in relief when she opened her eyes and saw it was only her husband. Seonghwa frowned but smiled. “What’s wrong, love? You didn’t even sense me coming.”

“I was just thinking,” Yena squeezed Seonghwa’s hand.

“That same feeling again? Woke you up?”

“Yeah,” she slid further down in the tub, her blonde hair floating around her. “Something isn’t right in this… world right now, Seonghwa. I don’t know how big or small it is, if it’s here on this planet or in one of my dimensions or on another planet, but… something that is not supposed to exist is present- I can feel it. Tell me you feel it too.”

Seonghwa hesitated but finally nodded- Yena, of all people, should know. “I don’t know how exactly but I just know that it’s dark in nature- not necessarily a darkling,” Seonghwa added when he felt Yena tense. “It’s not that. It’s… something or someone, and if it’s a person, it’s not a darkling. I can’t say if it’s a faerie either. I just know that it is out of place. It shouldn’t be here.”

“So you can feel the darkness in magic too, Prince of Dark?”

“That’s the thing which is confusing me,” Seonghwa sighed. I can’t really feel any sort of magic. Not yet. Maybe it’s not magical, whatever this is.”

“Seonghwa,” Yena shut her eyes. She didn’t need to say more- Seonghwa could hear it anyway since he was touching her. Yena pushed her thoughts in his mind-

I’m so tired. Whatever this is… it’s wearing me out. I’m not ready for whatever it is. But… I know that I can’t ignore it either.

Seonghwa squeezed her hand, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on her lips. “You’re not alone this time. All of us are with you. Let me send a message to the others, see if they’ve felt something amiss too. Let’s rest for now, eh?”

Yena nodded, splashing water on her face that merged with the tears that rolled down her eyes before Seonghwa could see it.

—--------------------

Gaeul couldn’t breathe.

She woke up in the middle of the night, out of breath. The calm and chill breeze flowing through the open window did nothing to calm her down. She had to go outside, right now. She almost shook the woman awake but decided against it, stumbling down the stairs and making her way out and gasping for air as if she was being suffocated.

This wasn’t anything new. Many times her healer had caught her outside, unconscious, mostly a bloody mess. She would try to wake her up for a few moments before giving up and dragging her back. But this time…

Gaeul didn’t feel sick. For the first time in whatever length of time had passed, Gaeul suddenly could see and feel. Her head had never been clearer.

As if in a trance, Gaeul looked at her hands, sinking to the ground and picking up a wilting daisy. Gaeul tried recalling how her magic worked- it was second nature to her, from what she had recalled so far.

Gaeul shut her eyes, trying to reach her heart and will her magic to unleash, but the pit, that goddamned endless pit in her heart called to her and-

Gaeul was down memory lane. The redhead who had killed her mercilessly- why? What crime had she committed? Was it a past life? If so, why did she not remember anything-

“Are you okay?” She heard the familiar voice of the healer and it pulled her out of her trance. Gaeul turned her neck back to look at the woman who approached her cautiously.

“I just needed some air,” Gaeul got up, exhaling. “Did I wake you up?”

“No, I just felt strange. Woke up to see you weren’t there with me so I decided to check. Are you sure you feel okay?”

“Yeah, I feel better, I was just-” Gaeul looked at the flower in her palm, her eyes widening with horror as she saw it was no longer wilted but dead.

“I was just looking at this… flower,” Gaeul managed to say out loud. The woman raised a brow, inspecting the flower in her palm.

“This looks… why is this grey?”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Gaeul locked eyes with her. “It’s beyond dead.”

—---------------

Jongho felt it then. The strange feeling that had been looming around him for a few months now… he couldn’t deny it anymore or shrug it off as some sort of a nervous spell. It was real and existing.

And it was unnatural in every sense.

Jongho wiped sweat off his forehead and walked to the garden right outside his room. He had to check something and he hoped he would get answers. He sat down on the grass, closing his eyes and sending himself in a meditative state as his powers reached out and connected with everything that was natural around him.

He had no idea how long he stayed like that, but he could feel his skin warm up- the sun was probably out now which meant that he had been here for hours now. His magic reached out and further, linking with everything until he finally found the one thing that it didn’t connect with-

It made Jongho queasy in a matter of seconds and he tried wrapping his magic around it- it was a person, alright. He could hear the heartbeat. But the magic that it contained, it was no longer natural. And the very existence of this person…

His magic repelled and came back with a jolt, making Jongho gasp and clutch his throat as he normalised his breathing.

This wasn’t right. Something had gone incredibly wrong, and he needed to see the others right now. But first… he would go to Wooyoung and get his help in pinpointing who exactly this was.

Jongho got up, walking to his room, hearing the faint knocks on his door before it opened to reveal his Right Hand, Jooheon, who waved cheerfully but the smile fell off his face. “Have you been up all night? Because you look like a mess. Should I call the healers?”

“No, it’s okay,” Jongho almost tripped on his feet, laughing a bit. “Just used my magic all night, no big deal-”

Jooheon watched Jongho’s eyes roll back before he fell unceremoniously on, thankfully, the couch, though the position looked painful. Jooheon tsk-ed, shaking his head at how Jongho had tried shrugging it off. “Hyungwon! The Prince has fainted!”

Hyungwon peeked inside, narrowing his eyes at Jooheon who told him that Jongho had been awake all night. “Are you sure he didn’t just fall back to sleep after spending all his magic?”

He hadn’t.

—----------------

Yunho was the first one who received Seonghwa’s message. He read it over and over again, then tossed the paper into the nearest water body, dissolving it and making it one with the water.

If you have seen or felt something strange or wrong, unfamiliar or unnatural, whatever it was, report now.

Yunho couldn’t help but throw his head in his hands as he wondered how whatever he had felt months ago was related to this. He recalled the night from four months ago when he had started feeling a strange pit in his stomach, like a gut feeling that something was about to happen.

He had gone to the shore for a week straight, trying to feel it out, but it was just so unfamiliar. He had no idea what it was. Nobody around him felt it, so he wondered if it was just inside his head. He wondered if he needed to meet up with his friends and had been lonely recently.

He met up with Mingi. He stayed in his kingdom for two days. He didn’t feel anything there, but as he travelled back, the feeling grew stronger and stronger. He tried to find the source, swam endlessly in the ocean but to no avail.

And then one day, as quick as it had appeared, it disappeared completely. Yunho wondered then- had someone practised dark magic?

Somehow, the feeling reminded him very much of the one he’d got when Yena had been dumped in the middle of the ocean after jumping back in time and Yunho, unaware of her existence, had known a part of him was in danger and had gone to save her without knowing who he was saving.

Now he felt that he was in danger. Everyone was. It was like the same feeling yet its meaning was the opposite.

It felt wrong.

And last night, he had felt it briefly again. He had wondered if he was flipping but now he knew that he was still sane, alright.

Yunho sighed, going to his room and picking up a pen, beginning to write on the note.

Seonghwa and Yena.

Something is not right. I can’t explain it here, but I have a feeling that it’s connected to all of us. We have done something wrong.

—----------------

Gaeul couldn’t believe what she just did.

After summoning up her magic for the first time in as long as she could remember, she breathed death into a flower instead of life. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

And it didn’t stop at that. When Gaeul followed the old woman inside and she touched her forehead to heal her, the woman jolted back as if she had been hit by an electric current.

“What have you done?” She simply asked before she fell unconscious. Gaeul almost thought she had killed her too, but when her panic wore off she saw the healer’s chest still rising up and down, though slow enough to call for some medical attention. However, Gaeul was in no state to try that. She wasn’t even sure if she was a danger by simply being near. So Gaeul did what she had been doing for a while now- she ran.

She couldn’t risk being discovered anymore. She was a danger to all the living beings around her- her magic was getting out of control and as she dived deeper into the forest, she realised the trees around her that were unfortunate to have touched her were all wilting and dying as well.

She was death itself.

Gaeul had no idea how long she ran but she stopped when she heard the faint footsteps of men and a horse. Gaeul hid behind a tree, careful not to touch it. She peeked to see the two figures clad in black, muttering something.

Gaeul decided it was time to calm herself before she did any more damage. She shut her eyes and inhaled, breathing deeply in.

Everything would be okay. She would be okay. She would go to the High Healers herself. She would figure this out. There was no reason to give up yet-

She heard- no, felt something whip through the forest behind her-

“What have we got here?”

Gaeul’s eyes flew open- she hadn’t even heard the men come in front of her. The other man scanned her rather slowly, up and down. She gulped.

“What’s this pretty little thing doing in the middle of the forest at this hour?”

This wasn’t good. Her calm heart started beating rapidly again and she could feel the magic stirring in her stomach- perhaps their horse felt it too, because it panicked as soon as their eyes met. One of the men tried to hold its reins but the horse ran in the opposite direction, making the man follow him. The other who simply watched shook his head.

“He always gets unlucky at times like this,” he scoffed, but it changed into a smirk that made Gaeul draw back until her back touched the tree. “Perhaps, I can offer you some help-”

She felt something whoosh past where the horse and man had just been running off to. The man in front of her turned too, frowning but dismissing it as nothing. Gaeul decided to use the distraction to her favour- heavens knew what prowled in the forest at this hour.

“I’m- I’m good,” Gaeul managed to say, “I’ll be on my way.”

Gaeul started turning away, wanting to run, but the man grabbed her arm and Gaeul tried snatching it with a glare, but he pulled her forward.

“Now, now,” he whispered, “Be a good girl for me, will you?”

Something went off inside Gaeul. She nodded and grabbed his other hand, and shut her eyes, sending her magic through, and it wasn’t until she heard the man gasp for breath that she opened her eyes to see that he had shrivelled, just like the flower.

That was not what Gaeul had intended to do. She dropped her hands but the remains of her magic inside the man made sure that every last ounce of life was sucked out from him. Gaeul’s eyes blurred and she started running away, unable to breathe or run properly, but she couldn’t stop.

She had just killed a man.

She had not just killed. She had done something else.

She slowed down and spotted a set of yellow glowing eyes growing closer with every second, eyes that had to be larger than her hands. The sinister feeling of the creature and the magic inside her was so overwhelming that she welcomed unconsciousness.

—-------------------

Yeosang felt it the minute that it happened.

Someone had died a horribly gruesome death- nothing like he had felt before.

As the Prince of Spirit, he didn’t feel everyone’s death. That would be too much for him. But sometimes, the spirits who were still in pain after their death… he felt that. He didn’t share their pain but he could feel that they were hurt.

Yeosang was still lying on his bed, having woken up from his sleep the moment he felt it. He decided to check and see if he could get answers. Yeosang shut his eyes and focused on the deepest part of his mind, which was when his own spirit dissociated from his body and his soul shifted to the dimension that was a gateway for souls itself.

The spirit wasn’t far- not for Yeosang, who could jump directly to the spirit he wanted to meet. Yeosang tried doing that, but to his surprise, it didn’t work. His heart sank- something was wrong- not with him, but with the entire situation.

Yeosang roamed around in that dimension- it was all bleak and cloudy with no clues to what direction you were travelling in. He thought for a few moments and decided he would take another way- jump to the spirit nearest to his target.

But as soon as he did that, Yeosang fell on his knees. He could feel the spirit’s pain now. Yeosang struggled to breathe, getting up on his feet with immense effort and almost crawling towards the source.

If Yeosang was in his body then, he would have thrown up after seeing the grey ‘corpse’ that he saw. There was absolutely no way- the spirits that walked this dimension carried no scars of their life. But somehow…

“What happened?” Yeosang asked the walking corpse- its eyes were sunken and the only thing that gave indication of life. The skin was grey, hair burnt, all bones and skin.

The poor spirit tried speaking but it looked like it no longer held that ability. Yeosang sighed, walking to the spirit and touching it- he felt the unnaturalness of whatever had hurt it.

“I can rid you of your pain, if you don’t wish to walk in this dimension eternally like this. It is time to make a decision- do you want to stay because of some unfinished business, move on to a place I cannot guarantee might be heaven or hell, or cease to exist?”

The spirit held up three fingers. Yeosang nodded, touching its forehead and watched it disappear- not into smoke like spirits usually did, but into ashes.

Yeosang prayed no one else would meet a fate like him.

—-------------------

Mingi couldn’t sleep- not after feeling a soul burn twice.

Ever since Mingi had saved Yena from being their darkling enemy’s hostage and Yena had accidentally taken Mingi to another timeless dimension, Mingi could feel magic deeper than ever. He always thought being the Prince of Fire meant fire on the surface, the element of fire, but it was more than that, he learned after.

The first time he experienced a soul burning was when Yeosang had done the ‘soul extermination’, as Mingi dubbed it. Mingi had woken up with something like hot flashes, and no amount of cold showers could make him feel better. He talked to Yeosang, who was living nearest to him as they shared a continent. Yeosang then explained that some spirits in one of his dimensions could turn evil or become a threat if they stayed for too long and refused to move on. In cases like these, Yeosang would ‘kill’ the spirit. Yeosang was surprised to learn that it felt like burning- but how Mingi could feel it, he had no idea.

“Must be because of Yena and staying in that dimension for too long,” Yeosang had told him. “When you are somewhere you are not supposed to be, you live with the consequences. Looks like you can feel the fire inside of a soul now, Mingi.”

He was right. Mingi could feel when a living soul was burning with too much magic, something the possessor’s body couldn’t handle. Mingi could also feel whenever Yeosang burnt a spirit.

But he had never felt a soul burn twice- and both of those felt wrong in a way. Unnatural. Yeosang burning a spirit never felt wrong.

Mingi got up and decided to write a fire message to Yeosang.

Not sure if this was normal, but a soul burned. Twice. It felt wrong. Did you mess up or something? Because I’m getting a very strange feeling.

Mingi tossed the paper into the air and it caught flames, burning and disappearing. He waited for a reply, and when he got it, his heart sank to his feet.

You’re right. It is wrong and unnatural. This wasn’t me. Something’s walking around burning souls from the inside out. Not like you- not with fire. It’s like someone breathed death into the soul. I’m sending a message to Seonghwa- maybe he or Yena knows something. You should talk to Hongjoong- he might have something related to this in his big old library.

Mingi decided to send a fire message to Hongjoong in the morning- he wasn’t sure if he was awake and had felt whatever had happened.

—-----------------

Hongjoong felt everything that happened.

It was the one power he wished he didn’t possess. He was the Prince of Light. That didn’t mean that he had to know if everything was right wherever light touched a life.

But it did. And it kept him awake more nights than he had slept peacefully in his life.

The boys- the Princes always made fun of how Hongjoong could pass out anywhere. How Hongjoong always looked like he was tired and didn’t get enough sleep. He never told them they were right- he never got enough sleep. Not since Yena went missing when she was only two. Hongjoong was three then, and he hadn’t known then but when Yena was found and everything fell back in place, he finally started getting better sleep. He searched his library for old records and realised that put simply, the reason he never got to get enough sleep in the first two decades of his life was… Yena.

When he told Yena, she couldn’t stop laughing. And then Hongjoong couldn’t stop laughing because of how mad all of this was.

But after everything fell back in place, he slept well for a few months. He would only feel strange when someone’s magic had problems or someone tried a silly trick. Nothing that he couldn’t ignore now, given years of practice.

A few months later, he felt the strangest he had ever felt in his entire life- perhaps even more than when the darkling used his magic openly to kill. He immediately checked with Seonghwa and Yena to see if everything was fine, but they weren’t the reason this time. And they had felt it too.

Hongjoong told them not to worry about it, that sometimes, in one of the many dimensions that layered this planet, something goes wrong. It’s natural.

But this feeling was anything but natural.

So he decided to investigate on his own. He couldn’t pinpoint a source and there was no use travelling when he had a kingdom to run. He decided to check the records then.

But it had been months and he had found nothing, and the feeling only grew until tonight, when he felt that something had shifted in the air, in magic itself. Something was not where and how it was supposed to be.

He was pretty sure he was going to get a message from one of the Princes soon. There was no way that he was the only one feeling this.

—-----------------------

Gaeul woke up not because of the loud chirps of the birds but because every part of her body was aching immensely. She sat up with much struggle, lost for a few blissful moments as she looked around her before the events of last night made her put her head in her hands and sigh.

She had just killed a man. And… there was something that approached her- a monster that might have just spared her life.

Gaeul looked around her- the grass was still green, the flowers and plants still alive. Cautiously, she plucked a wild flower from the ground and held it for a few moments.

Nothing happened.

Good, she thought. I hope I never get that magic back.

Her mouth felt parched and her stomach felt tight. She shut her eyes, listening to the sounds of nature- her fae senses still worked perfectly for some reason. She could hear some sort of water body nearby so she decided to follow the sound.

She was on her own now with no idea of which direction she had gone. She could be straying away from the Palace, for all she knew. But then… she wondered if she wanted to endanger the innocent healers there as well.

Plus… the Prince lived there. She was pretty sure he was strong enough to kill her with just a wave of his hand, or maybe even a mere thought. She gulped, not sure if she wanted him to do exactly that or if she wanted to run away from it.

Gaeul walked for a few hours without stopping, without thinking about her magic in case it rose back from the pit in her heart. When the sound of water became louder, she practically ran in joy, stopping at the edge of River Al-Ard, looking far into the distance at the mountains of what could only be Rukbat- the capital. The place where the Prince resided.

Gaeul’s destination.

As she washed her hands and face and sat down, sinking her feet in the water, she wondered if she was worth saving. She could not figure out if the memories she had were actually her own or hallucinations at this point. But what she was sure of was that no one cared for her. She was lost.

And she was a danger to everyone. To herself too.

Gaeul looked up at the white fluffy clouds, smiling for the first time since she could recall. Time had only made her more miserable. Maybe she should put an end to all of it.

After all, this was a nice spot to die.

Gaeul started sinking herself down and down into the river, until the water came to her chin. She looked up for the last time, smiling as tears ran down, before she fully submerged herself into the water-

“Not so easily, you won’t!”

Gaeul panicked, thinking someone must have tracked her down after finding the poor man she had killed. She risked a one second eye contact with whoever had called her, finding not one but three people. She instantly dived deeper in the river.

“I got this,” Changbin started towards the river but Wooyoung grabbed his arm, shaking his head.

“She’s going to kill you if she touches you, I can feel it,” Wooyoung looked as grim as he sounded. “She’s not going to drown to her death.”

“So we stand here and do nothing?” Siyeon asked.

“Just don’t get any closer than this and let me handle it,” Wooyoung warned, hands raised. He made sure the girl trying to drown wouldn’t be able to lose her breath. That was all he could do for now.

Gaeul, meanwhile, wasn’t surprised, but for a different reason. She recalled what her healer had once told her- that whatever was killing her was also keeping her alive. Gaeul thought it was her magic keeping her alive.

She wasn’t entirely wrong.

She felt the magic rolling uncontrollably in her stomach and she dreaded whatever was going to happen.

This was a bad idea.

Gaeul knew her magic was going to explode with a burst, killing everything near it. So she dived up, trying to be faster than her magic, and she only had time to scream ‘RUN!’ before she folded in herself and her magic burst with a wave.

Wooyoung immediately drew a shield around the three of them but that wasn’t enough to hold him steady. He was thrown with the others a good few feet away, and when it was over and they got to their feet, they gasped collectively.

Everything within a few miles radius had… died. The trees were grey- Wooyoung had never seen anything like it. Everything looked like it was going to turn into ash with one touch. Remains of what could be fishes and other sea creatures unfortunate enough to have been victims of that magic floated at the surface of the sea. The birds fell as ashes floated timelessly in the air and Wooyoung touched a few, frowning because it resembled snow.

Gaeul looked around helplessly, tears of relief rolling down her cheeks when she saw the three were alive, mixed with tears of regret- she did not want to live anymore. Not after this.

“You’re lucky I’m the Prince of Air,” Wooyoung walked carefully towards her. “Because it looks like you need help.”

Gaeul gulped as she heard that- Prince Wooyoung had somehow found her. Was she some sort of a threat that he needed to exterminate-

“I’m not going to hurt you,” his voice was calming.

“I’ll hurt you,” Gaeul’s voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t want to, but I don’t know what’s wrong with me, my magic isn’t right- I-”

“Slow down, slow down,” Wooyoung nodded. “First, get out of the river. Come on, take my hand.”

“You’ll die if I take your hand.”

“I won’t,” the Prince passed Gaeul a warm smile. “I can feel that your magic is spent. You’re as normal as me right now.”

Gaeul looked at him sceptically- he was the Prince. He wasn’t normal anyway. Hesitating, she swam forward and took his hand, letting him drag her out of the river. She met eyes with the others who looked like they were ready to kill her this instant.

“Relax, they’re only my guard and my Right Hand,” Wooyoung passed the two a look and they shrugged, looking helplessly at each other. “Let me dry you.”

With a wave of his hand, all the water had dried from her skin and clothes. Gaeul nervously looked down and then around her- she really had sucked the life out of everything-

Is that why she was getting better? Healthier? No, no-

“Let’s get out of here first, shall we? We just crossed the river to come here by that boat-” Wooyoung pointed at his left where at a distance the boat was tied. “Looks like we need to get back anyway. We can talk while we row.”

Once settled in the boat, Changbin and Siyeon rowing, Wooyoung sat in front of Gaeul, scanning her- she was a faerie alright. Not an ounce of darkling blood in her. But her magic wasn’t right.

“I could sense you, perhaps because you were near me. Your magic- you weren’t born with this, were you?”

“I used to breathe life into things,” Gaeul smiled helplessly. “Looks like I suck the life out now.”

“Interesting,” Wooyoung stuck his tongue in his cheek while he scanned Gaeul again. Siyeon kicked his back lightly, muttering not to freak the girl out. Wooyoung shook his head. “So, how did you get here?”

“I don’t know, actually. I’m really confused about why and how I’m here. I think I lost my memories or something too. All I remember is that a few months ago, one day, I found myself at the beach- somewhere near Ascella. I literally just fell on the sand from nowhere- and I’ve been really sick since then. I keep coughing blood and fainting, but I’m clearly not dying. I went from being bones and skin to this-” she looked down at herself. Better than skin and bones.

“Do you remember who you are?”

“That’s the thing,” Gaeul sighed. “I don’t know if what I remember is a memory or a past life or something I made up.”

“I see, the healers might be able to help with that,” Wooyoung nodded. “Tell me about your magic now.”

“I didn’t know about this until last night. All my magic has done so far is make me sick. I was actually travelling to the Palace with a healer- she thought that the High Healers could help me. Last night, I held a wilting flower and tried making it alive like I used to- I think I used to,” Gaeul shook her head. “Anyways, the flower turned grey like now. And then… I think I hurt my healer too. She fainted but thankfully she was alive. But then…”

“You killed someone a few hours ago, didn’t you?”

Siyeon rolled her eyes at how blunt Wooyoung was. The girl clearly wasn’t handling all this well. She wiped her forehead and eyes and then looked down.

“I never meant to. I felt threatened, and it just happened- it wasn’t in my control. That’s why I panicked. I’ve only ever healed things- I’ve never hurt them. And now-”

Gaeul couldn’t hold back her silent sobs anymore and she hid her face in her hands. Wooyoung looked back at Siyeon and Changbin who were clapping sarcastically.

“Good job,” Siyeon muttered, shaking her head.

“What?” Wooyoung sighed. “I need to get the facts straight before I risk my healer’s lives, don’t you think?”

“He’s right,” Gaeul wiped her face, her eyes steadfast now. “I don’t wish to put anyone else at risk. If you think it’s wise to get rid of me, then do so. I have nothing holding me back.”

Wooyoung sighed, looking at her dark eyes- they had a tinge of grey, looking perhaps as hopeless as she felt. Wooyoung wasn’t sure if she was as innocent as she claimed she was. “You are a threat, yes, but that doesn’t mean you get to die so easily. Every life is precious and meaningful and so is yours. We need to look into whatever’s up with you, because you know it feels unnatural, your magic, right? It feels-”

“Wrong, I know,” Gaeul looked at him to his surprise. “Everything inside me is screaming that this is wrong, whatever happened to me. I’m not where I’m supposed to be. Nothing’s right. I think… you’ll need to look into my past if you want to see the origin of this.”

“Look into your past, huh?” Wooyoung looked at Changbin. “Now which one of us could do that again?”

—-------------------

To say that San was in a state of frenzy was a severe understatement.

In the past few days, he had been beyond restless. He was not focusing on his work to the point that his Right Hand, Seokmin complained that San should just step down since Seokmin was the one doing all the work anyway. However, he was worried too- he had never seen his Prince like this.

San tried explaining it to him, to himself, but it wasn’t that simple. He wasn’t sure if he had felt whatever this thing was before he had visited Rukbat four months ago but he was sure that thing was around there, and him going to Rukbat had somehow made both him and that thing restless. How the two were connected, he had no idea.

But after the amount of magic and wrongness he felt in the matter of the last 24 hours, he knew he needed to get back to Rukbat. And he couldn’t let anyone know.

Truth be told, he himself wasn’t sure what he was about to do. He had no idea who or what he was looking for. Something in his mind, in his heart, screamed at him to go, go, go. Go and find whatever was wrong and make it right. He simply had to trust his gut at this point, trust the thing tugging at him.

So San sat down still for the first time in a while as he etched out a plan in his head. He would leave at night when everyone thought he was asleep, take the secret tunnel out (he wasn’t even sure if he could call that tunnel ‘secret’ anymore since not only his Right Hand and Guard but one of his healers and Princess Yena knew of it too) and then…

Take a carriage? Walk? It would take far too long.

He needed Yena to portal him. That was the quickest and safest route. But he wasn’t sure Yena would understand or agree. Especially after the message he had gotten from them. And after all that had happened with Yena… he couldn’t ask that of her.

He needed to do this himself.

He waited rather patiently for the night to approach and everyone to sleep, which was when he packed a bag and took the tunnel out, went to the nearest stable and took a horse and started riding towards Rukbat.

He prayed he would get there before things went more wrong than they already were.

—-------------------

Jongho could feel each and every moment of the magical blast that had killed so much. It didn’t hurt him, and he was glad it didn’t because feeling its existence alone made his heart ache.

He wasn’t sure why exactly he had fainted earlier in the morning too. He was the Prince of Nature- doing magic while meditating and stretching his vision was like second nature to him. But this time, something fought back. And that was as dangerous as it could get not only for him, but all the Princes. Perhaps, he thought, Princess Yena could fight back against something like this. She was the most experienced in that department.

When he gained consciousness after fainting, he learned that he had been out for about six hours. That was a long period of time and even had his healer worried because the most he had been out was two hours, and that was when he had spent all his energy doing similar magic.

Jongho tried to explain to Jooheon why he needed to get to Wooyoung as soon as possible. Jooheon was suspicious about all of this, and he kept insisting it was a trap.

“Look, all I’m saying is that if you felt it, Prince Wooyoung must have felt it as well. He’ll take care of it- no scratch that. You both should sit this one out. This feels like a trap- especially with the recent problem that we have going on.”

“Did you feel it?” Jongho asked and Jooheon shook his head no. “That’s what I’m saying. This is like a cry for help, not a trap. As for the missing faeries… I didn’t really feel anything there.”

“That’s like, the first trick in the book of traps,” Hyungwon, who was reading a book, peeked up. “Are you seriously risking yourself for whatever this… person is?”

“In risking myself, I save a lot of lives that could possibly be lost if we don’t get this under control,” Jongho was groaning with frustration now. “If you’re not coming along, I’m going by myself-”

“Hey, hey, now that’s not what we meant,” Jooheon laughed helplessly, looking at Hyungwon who only shrugged. “I’ll take care of things here. Take Changkyun at least. And Hyungwon too.”

“You ready?” Jongho asked Hyungwon and he rolled his eyes.

“This feels an awful lot like the time we went along with Princess Yena,” he said and Jongho laughed, agreeing. Changkyun arrived, all dressed up for-

“We’re not going into battle, dammit,” Jongho laughed but Changkyun wasn’t having any of it. He only shrugged and Jongho nodded, urging Hyungwon to follow him out. They were going to Rukbat and it wasn’t very far from here- a long ride and a river was what separated them.

“Do you think we should let the others know too?” Jongho wondered out loud when they settled into the carriage, the horses made specially for quick transport by magic speeding twice as fast as a normal horse. “I mean, Seonghwa did order us to report anything strange.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Hyungwon scoffed. “You want to find the person first before you give them anything.”

“Yeah, you got me,” Jongho shifted in his seat, running a hand through his red hair. “It’s just that I don’t want them to worry about something that we’re not sure about. I’m pretty sure Wooyoung ignored their message too, so there’s that as well.”

“If only you Princes could communicate better,” Hyungwon almost laughed. “Would have saved you a lot of trouble, wouldn't it?”

Hyungwon was both right and wrong. The Princes and the Princess were all anxious about whatever was ‘wrong’ now, trying to either pinpoint an origin or search for it. One could argue that providing them with more information would worry them more, especially if it was a threat that could be easily exterminated. However, no one knew what exactly that threat was- not even Wooyoung who was present with that said threat.

—-----------------

“Well,” Wooyoung sighed, a grimace on his face as he poked one of his healers in the arm, lying unconscious on the floor. “This didn’t go as planned.”

Gaeul had her head in her hands. “I didn’t mean to- I was asleep and he came to change my bandages or something. I got scared.”

Gaeul and Wooyoung had arrived at his castle a while ago and Wooyoung had let her admire the glass structure that was the castle before escorting her to the basement where she would be staying, saying something about how he needed to get her in there before her magic replenished. It seemed like she wasn’t faring well though.

“Progress though,” Wooyoung passed a smile though Gaeul could swear he was mocking her. “At least he’s not dead.”

“He would have been if not for Jiu there,” Gaeul pointed at the woman sitting bored at the other end of the room.

“That’s right,” Jiu looked serious. “I was waiting for her to admit that before I interrupted.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, “I guess it was a good idea to have you here after all.”

“Definitely,” Jiu looked at Gaeul and Gaeul hated that there was pity in her eyes, though she could not blame her. She herself was to blame after all. “Can we change shifts now? I need to catch up on my sleep.”

“Go on then,” Wooyoung dismissed her and she gladly left. Wooyoung turned his attention to Gaeul. “How are we feeling today?”

“The same?” It came out more as a question. “I don’t feel anything much here- the basement is… not as suffocating as it first sounded. In fact, I’m more relaxed now.”

“And that was the purpose of keeping you here,” Wooyoung took a seat, running a hand through his dark hair, the faint light in the room making the golden streaks in his hair shine. “Anyways, Jongho is arriving soon. I thought I’d let you know.”

“Prince Jongho?”

“The one and only,” Wooyoung grinned. Gaeul visibly gulped- being in the presence of one of them was intimidating enough. “He’s the Prince of Nature. If anyone can help you figure your magic out, it’s him, since you presumably had similar magic as him.”

“Presumably… So Yoohyeon still didn’t get past my memories?” Gaeul asked, referring to the healer who had first attended to her.

“Surprisingly, no,” Wooyoung sighed as he nodded. “Yoohyeon is an expert at healing amnesia and similar disorders. There must be something preventing her from accessing your memories-” he paused when he recalled how San had been the one able to access Yena’s memories when no one else could. He wondered if he should call him.

“Something wrong?” Gaeul asked cautiously, tucking her hair behind her ears.

“Nothing, I just had… an idea. Anyways, I came here to let you know about Jongho, and… warn you about something. If your magic is as threatening as we think, we might have to put you in the cell here in the basement- it is laced with nullifying magic. It’s not as scary as it sounds- you just won’t feel your magic. Are you okay with that?”

Gaeul thought for a few moments- the last thing she wanted was to be a danger to the Princes. Of course she was okay. “Nothing will go wrong though, I hope?”

“I’m hoping that is so,” Wooyoung got up when he heard a knock on the door and let the guards who were carrying three trays filled with a variety of dishes inside the room. “Let’s eat while we talk.”

Gaeul could get used to this, she thought. Prince Wooyoung- or Wooyoung, as he insisted he be called- wasn’t as scary as she thought. He was easy to talk to. He didn’t make her feel like she was an alien, which truthfully, everyone else made her feel like. And he was humble. He ate with her at least once a day for the three days she had been here. She wondered if all the Princes were like this, and sometimes she would ask Wooyoung about his life. He would answer without hesitation most of the time.

“If it is a memory, I remember the time you came to the beach- near Ascella, when I was 10,” Gaeul scooped some chicken and mashed potatoes in her plate and Wooyoung raised a brow- Gaeul hadn’t talked much about herself so far. “I think I lived somewhere near there. It’s where I found myself in this state.”

“I’ve only been to Ascella beach a handful of times, and yes, I did visit when I was 10- we’re the same age, it seems.”

“I remember something about how you caused some sort of a storm and scared everyone present. I, unfortunately, was one of them.”

“Ah, so it was that time,” Wooyoung laughed. “I blame San- he was there with me too.”

“Prince San was with you at that time?” Gaeul wowed. “So I saw him too?”

“You must have if you saw me,” Wooyoung took a bite of the bun, thinking. “San pissed me off so I threatened him with a storm. He threatened to let the sand swallow me. We cooled down then.”

Gaeul almost giggled, holding herself back, and Wooyoung looked at her, amused. “You know, you’re allowed to laugh in my company.”

“Actually… I haven’t laughed in a while,” Gaeul admitted. “So… I think this was a memory, right?”

“Definitely, which means what you remember is mostly memories. Do you remember your parents?”

“I think I do. My father was a healer, but he died when I was 15. My mother… She followed soon after. My aunts and uncles took care of me after that.”

“What’s the last memory that you remember?” Wooyoung asked.

Gaeul thought for a moment- it was the memory that confused her the most, that made her question if she remembered a past life or something. “I think I was travelling in this kingdom… somewhere east. I think I saw this red haired guy do something- I can’t recall. All I know is that I saw his eyes glow before he killed me-”

“You saw his eyes glow?” Wooyoung frowned. This sounded an awful lot like someone he wished he didn’t know.

“If I’m not tripping, yes,” Gaeul’s eyes were steel- she knew it sounded unbelievable but she remembered this moment the most clearly. “They glowed like gold. Like-”

“Amber eyes, huh?” Wooyoung’s suspicions were confirmed. “Red hair and eyes that change to amber. Who are you, Gaeul?”

Gaeul frowned and then the door opened, revealing dark hair and a very handsome man walked in, eyes wide as he looked from her to Wooyoung and then back.

“Nice timing, Jongho,” Wooyoung didn’t finish his plate- he had no appetite anymore. “Kieran’s playing with us even from another world.”

—-------------------

Hongjoong was startled, to put it simply, when Yena and Seonghwa portalled right in front of him, in his room. He could never get used to the jumpscare he got, and he was positive that one day he was going to pass away because of a heart attack due to Yena startling him.

“A little warning is always nice!” Hongjoong yelled at the two, clutching his heart and exhaling, and Seonghwa chuckled.

“We did send a little warning,” Yena pointed out. “Why didn’t you reply? It has been three days. This is so unlike you- I thought something happened.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been… busy,” Hongjoong shrugged as he ran his eyes around the room, Yena and Seonghwa following. There were books, scrolls, maps, everything scattered around him. Yena skimmed through a few notes that made no sense to her. Hongjoong got up, feeling guilty because Yena looked like she was actually worried that something happened to him. “I’m sorry, come here.”

Yena pouted before walking to Hongjoong and hugging him, Seonghwa joining the two as well. “You should have let us know, Hongjoong.”

“Well, now that you’re both here, I’ll just tell you in person,” Hongjoong pushed a few books aside to make room on the floor. “So here’s how it is.”

Hongjoong started explaining how there were no records of such magic existing, but he didn’t think it was something natural- as in, no one of fae blood could be born with such a power. “A darkling would have been a different matter, but I believe it’s a faerie. Darklings feel different, but they don’t feel wrong, as you know.”

Yena knew that all too well. She nodded, tensing. Seonghwa put a hand on her back- some scars never faded. “So how would a faerie possess such magic in the first place? And what sort of magic are we even talking about?”

“All I know for now is that the magic has evolved to take this shape. It wasn’t always like this- or if it was, it had been subdued like your magic, Yena. But… I think we would have still felt something if that was the case. Because when you were missing, we always knew deep down that you were alive.”

“That’s right,” Seonghwa nodded. “So who’s this faerie?”

“Surprisingly enough, Wooyoung is on it,” Hongjoong said and Seonghwa and Yena looked at each other. Hongjoong laughed. “I guess Wooyoung didn’t tell you?”

“That brat,” Yena muttered. “How come?”

Hongjoong explained how Wooyoung had been the nearest to the faerie and had taken her to the High Healers to get answers. “They’re keeping her in his basement- she won’t be a danger there.”

“Good idea,” Seonghwa nodded. Yena looked back and forth between the two.

“Wait, hold up. Some poor thing is in Wooyoung’s basement? You know how wrong that sounds?”

The two burst out laughing, and Hongjoong shook his head. “Wooyoung had… problems with his powers, as you have heard. The basement his parents built was specialised to contain all magic inside those four walls. No magic can get across that.”

“I wonder who this faerie is though…” Yena shuddered- she recalled the time she was having trouble with her own magic and felt so hopeless. “Do we know who she is?”

“I have a feeling we will soon,” Hongjoong said knowingly.

What Hongjoong didn’t tell them was that San was probably on his way to Rukbat. Hongjoong had received a message from San’s court letting him know about how he had ‘ran away’ from his kingdom. Hongjoong was very curious about why San felt the sudden need to leave without letting anyone know. Was he feeling something about this situation differently than the others?

But then again, San was always sensitive. He felt Yena’s magic even when it was blocked and believed she was the Lost Princess before anyone else. If he had ignored Yena at that time… Hongjoong shuddered- they wouldn’t be here right now, none of them. So Hongjoong decided that there must have been a reason for San to act this way, and that he would give him time to come to terms with whatever his reasoning was.

Yena and Seonghwa looked at each other- Hongjoong knew something more than he told them. Seonghwa shrugged, figuring if it was something important, he’d know soon anyway. “Should we do something about this? Or let Wooyoung handle this?”

“I say let Wooyoung handle this… for now. I have a feeling we’re all involved in this somehow,” Hongjoong looked grim as he met eyes with Yena. “I think… let’s wait for Wooyoung’s verdict on this before I make any guesses.”

Yena’s heart sank- she instantly knew what Hongjoong meant. Over and over throughout the two and a half years, Yena had worried if going back in time had been the right decision after all. Of course, it had- she had saved Seonghwa from his untimely death. She would do it again. But… maybe she could have done it in a different way? Taken a different approach? Hongjoong told her it was alright to feel paranoid about this, considering what she had been through, but he had never imagined one day he would actually have to worry about this seriously.

That was, in fact, what he was trying to find in his archives now. There wasn’t much about time travel in the first place, kept strictly confidential, and he was worried they would have to figure this one out on their own. He decided at that moment to let Yeosang in on this possibility but keep Yena as uninvolved as possible until they were sure- he didn’t want her to worry more.

“What did you feel, Yena? And Seonghwa?” Hongjoong asked, changing the topic before Yena could probe any further.

“Something unnatural- it is not supposed to exist,” Yena admitted, rubbing her arms.

“Something dark in nature- which made me wonder if it was a darkling, but… it’s different, isn’t it?” Seonghwa raised a brow and Hongjoong agreed. Seonghwa and Hongjoong, with their magic, were like two peas in a pod. Light and Dark. They felt exactly the same way about magic ever since they were little.

“You should go back and stay until you’re needed,” Hongjoong got up, stretching. “There’s no need to worry and gather right now- there’s no point. Let’s believe in Wooyoung- I heard Jongho’s joining him soon so we can feel comfortable that there’s one brain that would actually be working.”

The two laughed, nodding- Jongho would keep Wooyoung in place, definitely. “Well, it was nice to meet you,” Seonghwa shook his head, smiling. “We just wanted to check on you.”

“Next time you decide to ‘check’ on me, give me a heads-up first,” Hongjoong put a hand on his heart, eyes wide. “You nearly stopped my heart.”

“This was Yena’s idea, to scare you-” Seonghwa was ambushed by Yena putting a hand over his mouth, shaking her head in denial while laughing, portalling back in an instant. Hongjoong’s smile fell, and he went back to the journal he had hid behind him when they had arrived.

This was definitely connected to all of them. And it wasn’t good. Whoever that faerie was didn’t matter anymore- she was merely a glitch in the matrix now. And glitches… shouldn’t exist.

—-----------------

San was having the most intense deja vu of his life.

He was travelling the same route as the one he took about two years ago- except that now he was using that route to travel away from home. He stopped at the same spots as he did, except that this time he was alone.

About two years ago, he had visited the border for some business, and on his way back he had encountered a lost traveller- Yena, whom he later discovered was the Princess Yena. He had felt the connection to her instantly, though he couldn’t put a finger on what exactly it meant. After all, it was a huge coincidence that he met Yena like that- but to this date, he wasn’t sure if they had met each other because of an unlikely coincidence or because Kieran played them all like chess pieces on his board.

Kieran. The darkling who claimed the identity of the late 9th Prince of Illusions- Junyoung- to the point that he forgot his real name. And then he assumed multiple identities to get close to Yena and Seonghwa.

San sighed as he poked the burning fire he had built with a piece of wood while he took a break from travelling. He kept thinking of two years ago- how oblivious they had all been until the worst happened- Kieran killed Seonghwa. Yena had to go back in time and risk a paradox that could mean the end of everyone’s existence just to get Seonghwa back. Everyone agreed to do that, and it went smoothly, except that there were two versions of Yena existing-

Everything, including Seonghwa’s death and Yena going back in time was meant to happen. Kieran had played them over and over again. He had killed Seonghwa on purpose, knowing Yena would go back in time. And then when they reached the climax again- when Kieran was supposed to kill Seonghwa- he took Yena instead.

San had to admit, he was a criminal genius, Kieran was. He made Yena mess with time- the most dangerous magic one could possibly possess. He couldn’t help but think this unnatural feeling was a result of the time travelling- how he knew, San had no idea. It’s like he could feel it all over again- everything, just like he had felt Yena was one of them. His magic was sensitive that way.

But this time… something was different, and it drove him crazy. It wasn’t just the magic he could sense. He could sense the anxiety that came with it, whoever this was. He could feel the panic, the hurt. He had never felt closer to someone, and he had never imagined he could when miles separated them. Just how was he connected to this? He could understand that Yena could feel whoever this was- probably connected to her magic in one way or another. He could understand that Seonghwa could feel its dark nature too, which meant Hongjoong must have felt it too.

It made him scratch his hair out- he wanted nothing more than to see just who this was that drove him crazy. They probably didn’t even know how San felt. He was so curious and scared about what the future held for him.

—--------------

Hongjoong wondered if such a dimension existed where he could watch the past rewind like a deity.

Hongjoong had been scribbling notes from what he got- any clue, any indication or sign, just about anything relevant or irrelevant. He had been sitting in a pile of pages and books for days now, and he finally got a message from Wooyoung that confirmed all of his suspicions.

Kieran might have killed Gaeul- I don’t know how the timelines work, but he killed Gaeul, or tried to. The point is, she is alive. Her magic became the opposite of what it used to be. She lost her memories. She looks like she came back from the dead, literally. Jongho is here- let me know how to handle this.

Hongjoong felt like throwing up- either from the restlessness or the fact that Kieran really had messed up. He needed to see Gaeul, needed to hear everything from her in person. And he needed to keep Yena out of this. He couldn’t involve her again- not so soon, not unless she was the key to putting things back again.

She had already been through so much. He couldn’t do this to her again.

Hongjoong wrote a message to Yunho first. Let Seonghwa know, without Yena’s knowledge, to keep Yena out of this until and if she’s required. That was enough to let Yunho and Seonghwa know that they were involved in this whether they wanted to or not.

Then Hongjoong wrote a message to Wooyoung, letting him know that he would be coming to Rukbat. It would take him about three days. Until then, Jongho and Wooyoung would have to get the most out of her.

Hongjoong packed a bag with his necessities before taking a quick shower. He was going to leave immediately. When he came out, his Right Hand Jaebeom was waiting for him.

“You look like you’ll pass out if you stay awake any longer,” Jaebeom shook his head. “A little rest before travelling isn’t a bad idea if you’re insisting on travelling alone.”

Hongjoong sighed. “Maybe I should take someone. I don’t have time to spare, Jaebeom.”

“Let Yugyeom accompany you then,” Jaebeom got up, patting Hongjoong’s back to encourage him. “He can return once he drops you off at Rukbat.”

“Should I?” Hongjoong wondered out loud but his thoughts were miles away. Jaebeom shook his head, amused, as he sent someone to call for Yugyeom while they ate lunch.

“I might need to summon some High Healers if the situation calls for it,” Hongjoong munched on pasta as he recalled how some of his healers had really helped Yena calm down when her magic was going out of control. “Have them on standby.”

“I will,” Jaebeom assured him. “And if someone sends a message for you?”

Hongjoong knew he meant Yena- he was going to pretend that he was here. “You’re good at pretending you’re me, aren’t you? I mean, you have been writing the official documents for me since forever-”

“We’re practically the same,” Jaebeom rolled his eyes. “Hongjoong. She’ll know in a second.”

“Ah, I don’t know. Just get someone to fire-message me or something so we can deal with it.”

“And if I can’t reach you?” Jaebeom scoffed.

“Then pretend you are me, and tell dear old Princess Yena that everything is alright and under control. Try to sound like me,” Hongjoong gave Jaebeom a fake wide smile that had him laughing out loud.

“Alright, alright. I got this. We got this.”

“We got nothing, Jaebeom. Everything is a mess now,” Hongjoong sighed.

—-----------------

“So you’re telling me,” Jongho rolled dramatically along the wall, leaving Gaeul baffled- she had never imagined the Princes were so… casual. “You’re telling me that somehow, Kieran has unintentionally or intentionally messed up the timeline and she’s here when she’s supposed to be dead?”

“We don’t know that yet,” Wooyoung was half lying on the floor, drawing circles with his finger. “That’s what she remembers. Her memory is as good as Seonghwa’s ability to sit cross-legged.”

“But Seonghwa can’t sit cross-legged-”

“Exactly,” Wooyoung looked at Jongho and he snorted. Gaeul, who was sitting on her bed with her knees drawn to her chest, watched the two panic- that’s what it had to be- the calm before the storm.

"But then…" Jongho sank down on the ground. "Suppose she was killed in the previous timeline. In this timeline, somehow, she's alive. How is that any different from Seonghwa's situation?"

"Exactly," Wooyoung clapped. "He didn't become anti-dark just because he didn't die in this timeline."

"Anti-dark would be called light, Wooyoung," Gaeul mumbled and Jongho snorted.

"Whatever," Wooyoung waved his hand in dismissal. "Seonghwa remains the Prince of Dark."

"So Princess Yena went back in time to save Prince Seonghwa?" Gaeul looked at the two. "Just what happened two years ago? All I remember is hearing rumours of Prince Yeosang's twin being alive."

"Uh, nothing happened," Jongho smiled and gave Wooyoung a side-eye. Wooyoung shrugged.

"She might as well know, Jongho. For some reason, she is involved directly or indirectly with what happened two years ago."

Gaeul watched the two bicker back and forth, her stomach twisting nervously. "Can I get some fresh air?"

"Yeah, we can open the windows-"

"No, I mean… can I go out? I feel like I'm suffocating right now," Gaeul gulped.

Wooyoung narrowed his eyes suspiciously but Jongho stood up. "Of course you can. You don't have to worry about your magic getting out of control too. I think the two of us can handle it if something happens."

Wooyoung gaped as he watched Jongho extend a friendly hand to Gaeul and she took it hesitantly, following him outside, urging Wooyoung to come along as well. Jongho led her to one of the gardens in the back without many guards. He watched as Gaeul simply strolled along the path etched beside the walls, brushing her fingers along the plants along the way. Wooyoung and Jongho stood watching, and Wooyoung elbowed him.

"What were you thinking?"

"Don't make her feel like a prisoner here, Wooyoung," Jongho warned as he looked at the elder Prince. "Her magic… I felt it when I took her hand. If she gets nervous or anxious - which you do a great job at making her feel- her magic can explode with a wave. Let her feel that she's free and she has nothing much to worry about while we figure this out. And don't tell her too much about what happened, will you?"

"Ugh, I can't wait for Hongjoong to come," Wooyoung groaned. "We literally have no idea what we're doing right now."

"Exactly," Jongho sighed. "Anti-nature. I never thought I'd see that one day- not from a faerie, at least."

"Do you feel anything else apart from the magic?" Wooyoung asked. Jongho shook his head.

"I don't even know what I really feel. She just makes me… nervous. She makes my magic nervous. I figured because our magics are opposite now, so…"

"No luck with the healers as well," Wooyoung watched Gaeul lay down flat on the grass as she stared at the sky. "Do you think it's a… trap? All of this? She could be Kieran 2.0. Or she could be a bait."

"Whatever it is, needs to be dealt with quickly," Jongho looked at Wooyoung. "Before things get worse. Because I sense it. You do too, right?"

"Impending doom," Wooyoung sighed. "The worst feeling I've ever had."

—-----------------

San reached in the middle of the night, sighing in relief only when he saw the dim lights glowing from the glass structure of what was Wooyoung’s palace. He felt relaxed for the first time in a while since he could sense Wooyoung and Jongho- he wasn’t surprised Jongho came. But….

He could also feel another presence strong enough to be reckoned with. Not as strong as the Princes, but close enough. San bit the inside of his cheeks, realising the gravity of the situation- he had no idea who he was looking for, but someone called out to him desperately. Desperately enough to make him travel all alone for days. And now that he was closer… the feeling only grew.

Meanwhile, Gaeul woke up with her body covered in sweat, gasping for breath. She was alone in her room but she was pretty sure there was a healer or a guard stationed outside, and some stationed on the stairs. She could suddenly sense everyone-

She shut her eyes as her body shook with a jolt- someone was here. Someone she wasn’t sure she wanted to meet, but her magic was almost suffocating her- the pit in her heart… she felt like she was drowning.

Gaeul stood up with shaky legs, going first to the sink to wash her face. Her eyes looked sunken but the silver in her eyes still glowed. She frowned- she wasn’t sure she ever had silver in her dark eyes before. Running a hand through her short hair, she cautiously opened the door, finding one of the healers, Yoohyeon, dozing off in the hall.

Gaeul wondered if she should wake Yoohyeon up and ask her if she could go outside, or let her sleep. But with her magic getting out of control, making her feel like it would burst any moment, she was worried she’d be a danger. So she slowly walked to Yoohyeon and called her name twice, making Yoohyeon stretch dramatically before she opened her eyes. She checked her wristwatch- it was nearly 3 in the morning.

“Something wrong?”

“I feel like my magic is going to burst in a wave like it did earlier,” Gaeul was almost jumping on her feet now, “I need to go out.”

“Uh, I think I need to take you to the cell in that case. Your magic won’t be able to escape those walls.”

“You don’t understand,” Gaeul panicked, feeling something slowly crawl inside her body, making its way up. “I need air. If I go in there, I don’t know what damage I would do-”

Yoohyeon got up, nodding her head, about to hold Gaeul and rub her arms but she flinched away. She sighed. “I know you don’t mean harm. But the cell- it’s built specifically to contain magic inside. Come on- you’ll be fine. It’s like a big room- you won’t feel like it’s suffocating you.”

Gaeul reluctantly followed Yoohyeon to the other end of the hall, feeling her magic rise to her chest now. She scanned the cell- it was very plain, just 4 walls and a single lamp illuminating its inside. Gaeul looked at Yoohyeon helplessly.

“I’m going to call for someone while you stay there, okay?” Yoohyeon smiled warmly, but it did nothing to calm Gaeul down. Yoohyeon shut the door, and Gaeul found herself surrounded by four walls. She slid down by one of them, facing the door.

It’s okay, she told herself. If you go outside, you’ll hurt and kill things. It’s better to stay inside until the magic wears out.

Only, the magic wasn’t wearing out. It grew more in intensity, and San felt it- felt the change in the nature of the magic like it was his own. Something was fueling the magic further. San leaned forward on his horse, urging it to go faster. By the time he reached the gates, he could feel it.

Impending doom.

He jumped off the horse, the guards letting him in instantly. He entered the building, looking around- everything seemed normal. He started towards Wooyoung’s room upstairs but then he felt it-

The basement.

San scoffed- of course whoever it was was in the basement. San took the shortcut, going outside until he was at the backside of the palace, asking the guards stationed out to let him in.

“Prince Wooyoung doesn’t allow anyone to go inside at night-”

“For fuck’s sake, let me in and get as far away as you can unless you want to die tonight,” San’s eyes glowed and that was enough for the guards to open the lock and get the hell away from there. He spotted Yoohyeon who came his way,

“Prince San? What are you doing here?”

“Get Wooyoung immediately, there’s no time,” San warned, “Whoever’s inside? Their magic is going to explode.”

“But she is in the cell-”

“The cell that nullifies magic?” San shook his head. “It’s fueling it instead. Get Wooyoung and Jongho immediately.”

Yoohyeon gasped, running off and San rushed downstairs, opening every door- he had never been in the basement personally. By the time he reached the end of the hall, he could hear someone’s sobs and chokes.

San stopped for a moment outside the door that had to be the one. He frowned- even with the dangerous magic bound to kill everything, he could feel something else- a connection. Was it because this faerie was somehow connected to what took place two years ago? He wasn’t sure. With a deep breath, he opened the door and he sucked in his breath when he saw a girl with her knees brought to her chest, sobbing.

This was the last thing he was expecting to see. It was like Yena’s situation all over again. San slowly stepped inside, muttering a soft ‘hey’, causing the girl to look up-

Gaeul and San both felt it then- something inside them tugging and calling out to each other, and it was not magic.

Gaeul frowned, ignoring whatever it was in case it made her magic any angrier. “You should get away. It’s not safe here.”

“I came to get you out of here,” San’s warm voice left Gaeul surprised, especially when he smiled and his whole face softened. He sat down on one knee in front of her, scanning her. “It’s not safe to be here. You need to get out.”

“Who are you?” Gaeul almost whispered. San extended his hand.

“I’m San. I’m sure you’ve already heard about me now.”

Gaeul pursed her lips, stifling her smile. She had, alright. She glanced at his extended hand. “If I hold your hand, I might possibly kill you.”

“You won’t,” San assured. “Trust me.”

If it was Wooyoung or anyone else, Gaeul would have never taken their hand at a time like this. She would have screamed at them to run away from her, to get as far away as possible. But something about San was so different than anyone else she had met so far. And without hesitation, she took his hand, his calloused fingers providing her instant consolation that everything would be alright.

Without saying anything else, San started leading her away from the room, sending a little spark of his own magic through their connected hands, trying to figure out the nature of her magic and just how unsafe everyone was. By the time he got out, Wooyoung and Jongho audibly gasped.

“Are you stupid?!” Wooyoung yelled. “Her magic will hurt you!”

“No, it won’t,” San shook his head. “I’ve got this, trust me. Just… follow me. And create a shield around us while you’re at it. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Wooyooung and Jongho watched San lead Gaeul to the garden that she’d gone to earlier, both of them standing in disbelief for a few moments before they looked at each other.

“Did you hear that?” Wooyoung scoffed. “Trust me, he said. Trust this little-”

“Shut up and create a shield,” Jongho laughed. “He must have a reason. He’s not as stupid as you.”

“Sure,” Wooyoung mocked. “A reason. Let’s hear that.”

San stopped in the middle of the garden, instructing Jongho and Wooyoung to shield themselves while they were at it. Wooyoung protested but San assured them he would not get hurt.

“It’s like when Yena had a block,” he explained finally, glancing at Gaeul. “I know what to do. I’m basically an expert at this now.”

“Right. Let’s see how far you get blown off. Gaeul! Make sure your magic throws him a good few miles away- maybe out of Rukbat.”

Gaeul was practically squirming. “I can’t hold it in anymore.”

“You don’t have to,” San took her other hand. “Close your eyes and try to reach the root of your magic. I’ll be there.”

The two of them shut their eyes, and Gaeul almost screamed- her magic was seconds away from exploding, but she saw it. It had to be San’s magic- the reddish brown, almost golden thread making its way beside her magic, circling it. Gaeul shook her head- he would get hurt.

“This is not my magic. I cannot control it,” Gaeul whispered and San squeezed her hands to let her know that he could hear her. “Just looking at it is making me suffocate.”

“I understand now,” San replied. “Just… stay strong. It’s going to hurt.”

Gaeul had no idea how much it was going to hurt, but when San’s magic coiled around the black and silver raging storm of magic and covered it entirely, she felt a moment of calm. And then his magic started squeezing her magic into nothingness- or at least it tried, because Gaeul’s ear piercing screams made San flinch and realise this was not going to work. He instantly created a shield around himself and dropped Gaeul’s hands, making her sink to the ground and clutch her head.

And then a wave came, nothing like San had imagined. If he hadn’t shielded himself, he would have been obliterated. Jongho and Wooyoung sent their magic back, fighting the wave and containing it within the small sphere so no one else would get hurt. For a good minute, it was a battle for their life before Gaeul stopped screaming and slumped down, unconscious. San breathed, slumping down with her, looking at Jongho and Wooyoung in disbelief. Wooyoung scanned the perimeter- thankfully, only the area within the sphere had ‘died’. The grass was grey, the flowers were ashes. Jongho sank down to his knees.

“I don’t feel so good,” Jongho’s face was pale. Wooyoung bent down next to him, touching his forehead. It was because of the magic being opposite in nature to Jongho. Wooyoung lent some of his strength to him just in time to stop him from fainting as well. He let Jongho lie down on the grass, out of energy.

“Well,” Wooyoung looked at San, grinning. “This is interesting.”

San glared at him before struggling up on his feet and joining the two, laughing helplessly as he sank down with the two. “I had to withdraw. This magic… It's not fae magic. It’s not even darkling magic.” He drew out his hand and frowned- the ashes were cold- like snow.

“Tell me about it,” Wooyoung sighed. “Jongho calls it ‘anti-nature’.”

“That’s because she used to have the magic of nature,” Jongho practically wailed. “Look around you and tell me this sight doesn’t scream ‘anti-nature’.”

San nodded- he had never seen anything like this. The grass and flowers hadn’t wilted- they had turned ash. “The cell, Wooyoung. It was fueling her magic. I could feel it from a mile away.”

“Well, shit,” Wooyoung looked at Gaeul, worried for a second that she had died but her chest rising up and down slowly relieved him. “Does that mean her magic can’t even be called magic?”

“Unnatural,” San scoffed. “Death- but not simply death. This is something beyond dead- look at this,” he plucked the grey grass that softened into powder with his touch. “Anti-magic. What is the opposite of magic, Wooyoung?”

“Mundane? But this is anything but that. This is… bewitchery, but it’s not that either. Bewitchery was what Junyoung’s uncle tried to do. This is… I don’t know. Let’s hope Hongjoong has a name for this, because if he does not… we’re in deep, deep trouble.”

—-------------------

The next afternoon, Wooyoung got a message from Hongjoong informing him that he’d be taking a little ‘detour’ in hopes of confirming his theory. The message was as ambiguous as it could get, so the three decided to chat with Gaeul.

Gaeul, however, was not having it. The boys were either bickering with each other about things she did not understand, or staring at her like an alien which made her fidget a lot. And right now, the boys were doing the latter. Gaeul stared back at the three of them for a good few moments before she turned around, making them face her back, which was when they broke out of their trance.

“I’m sorry,” San chuckled, “I’m just… confused. Please turn around, Gaeul.”

Gaeul sighed- she did not understand why San saying her name sounded so different. She turned around and her heart immediately warmed at the way he looked at her- sharp eyes that were so soft at times. “What happened last night?”

“I tried calming your magic down, but we have a theory…” San looked at Wooyoung and Jongho, wondering if it was wise to let her know.

“I have an idea so please let me know,” Gaeul gave Jongho and Wooyoung a side-eye when they tried warning San with wide eyes and bobbing heads. “Please tell me what’s going on with me. I’m as confused as you all are.”

“That, I believe,” San nodded. “Your magic… it’s not ‘magic’ anymore. Not like every faerie on this planet. Not even like the darklings-”

“You keep talking about darklings,” Gaeul looked at Wooyoung. “Kieran, was it? Who was he? Have you met a lot of darklings? Are they on this planet?”

“Slow down,” Wooyoung laughed. “Kieran was a darkling, yes, on this planet but not of his own accord. He’s the only one we’ve met.”

“We’ve met Neve too,” Jongho added.

“For like ten seconds, Jongho,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes.

“Ten seconds?” Gaeul was starting to believe that Wooyoung and Jongho weren’t quite sane in the head.

“Yes, he popped in from another dimension to say hi and take Kieran back,” Wooyoung looked at Gaeul as if daring her to call it bullshit.

“So what does this Kieran possibly have to do with me?”

“You mentioned red hair and glowing eyes… amber eyes?” San asked cautiously and Gaeul nodded hesitantly.

“I believe, yes. He supposedly killed me. Could be a dream.”

“I don’t think it’s a dream,” San looked at Wooyoung. “There’s a reason her magic reversed itself. Why would Kieran kill her though?”

“That’s the one thing I don’t understand,” Jongho tilted his head as he watched Gaeul. “She was a normal faerie with an affinity for nature. Nothing unusual there. Did she see something or hear something she wasn’t supposed to? Or was it mere bad luck?”

“Kieran wasn’t one to kill someone without a reason, was he? Every move he made, every life he took was calculated. As far as I know, he hasn’t even killed that many people.”

“San’s right,” Wooyoung started. “Two years ago… that’s the point of Kieran’s life where he couldn’t risk making a mistake. Killing Gaeul, who lived a very normal life at the beach with her family… there must have been a reason. And that reason is to fuck us up, obviously, but there’s another reason that I feel is more valid.”

“So are we going to watch me everyday like we’ve been doing for days now? Or are we doing something?” Gaeul was starting to hate the basement now.

“Dear old Hongjoong went on a little trip before coming here,” Wooyoung sighed. “Until then, I suggest we stay put and not try anything.”

“Don’t look at me,” San raised his hands in surrender. “I only prevented an explosion that would have obliterated your ass.”

“We would have been fine,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Tell him, Jongho.”

“I’m not telling him anything,” it was Jongho’s turn to surrender. “After experiencing it firsthand, I’m done assuming things about Gaeul.”

“Something tells me there’s more to your story,” Gaeul raised her eyebrow. Jongho sighed, giving in.

“I could feel you all the way in my castle. The day Wooyoung found you… your magic touched a flower, didn’t it?” Gaeul nodded, surprised, and he continued. “When your magic exploded, I felt it. It was unnatural, and I’m the Prince of Nature. Of course I would feel it- just like last night. It makes me feel sick- no offence to you.”

“None taken. It makes me sick too,” Gaeul sighed, looking away. “But… how come you can feel it from so far away? Do all Princes have like… a sensor?”

“Something like that,” San laughed. “Jongho felt it because of the magic. Wooyoung felt it because you were close, right?”

“Yeah, probably,” Wooyoung nodded. “And you felt it because?”

“I don’t know,” San shrugged, recalling the other feeling he had. His eyes met Gaeul at that moment and his heart sank- and so did Gaeul’s. “I… I’ve been feeling her for months now. I think… when I came to visit you last time, Wooyoung. Four months ago? The proximity might have triggered it.”

“But you’ve been feeling her all along?” Jongho frowned. “Is it because your magic is sensitive?”

“Probably,” San nodded slowly. “I could feel the magic growing slowly. I could feel that it was wrong. But there was something else- it made me nervous to the point that I couldn’t focus.”

“Weird,” Wooyoung made a face. “Yena and Seonghwa felt it too, probably because it’s connected to the two somehow. We’re keeping Yena out of this, in case you decide to send her a cute message about how you saved my ass from obliterating-”

“I won’t,” San kicked Wooyoung’s leg, making Jongho and Gaeul giggle. “She’s had enough already.”

“What’s the Princess like?” Gaeul asked and the three looked at her. “I don’t think I ever heard about her while I was… alive? Before Kieran supposedly killed me.”

“She’s like us,” Wooyoung smiled.

“She’s like Wooyoung,” Jongho sighed and Wooyoung smacked his arm.

“What’s wrong with that!?”

“So when did you hear about the Princess?” Jongho asked, ignoring Wooyoung altogether.

“A few months ago… I found myself at the beach, but I was in no state to move and I had no memory. I somehow made it to the forest and some people found me. Everything’s fuzzy- I don’t even know when this amnesia episode started. It could be a few months or a year-”

“What’s the first ‘news’ you heard, if you can recall?” Jongho asked and looked at the two Princes. “I think we can figure out when she woke up. Or came back to life. Whatever it is.”

“Prince Seonghwa and Princess Yena’s wedding was going to take place in a few days,” Gaeul recalled- it was the most memorable news she had heard that had stuck with her. “I remember because I had no idea who this Yena girl was. And then later I found out that she was the Lost Princess.”

“But it’s been 6 months,” Wooyoung frowned. “When we say two years ago, we actually mean two and a half. So… she woke up before Yena’s wedding. We didn’t feel her for four months at most, right? Unless someone felt it earlier. Does that mean her magic wasn’t in this state at that point?”

“That’s right,” Gaeul confirmed. “That time is hazy but I remember the faeries wondering if I had magic in the first place.”

“If Hongjoong was here, we would have figured all of this out in one sitting,” Jongho groaned, slumping down on the couch.

“Did Prince Hongjoong feel this too?” Gaeul asked.

“Oh, he feels everything,” San waved a hand in dismissal. “Everything that the light touches, I think.”

“So if you’re the Prince of Earth, do you feel everything that happens on this land?”

“Something like that. Yunho is the Prince of Water, so he feels everything wrong in the ocean-” San paused, his mouth parting as he looked at Gaeul. “Didn’t you say you were found by the beach?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“So Yunho must have felt when exactly!” San got up, clapping. “See? We have a brain too. We don’t always need Hongjoong.”

Gaeul tried stifling her smile but the look on Jongho’s face and the grimace on Wooyoung’s made her laugh and she put a hand on her mouth as San turned, muttering sorry. He only shook his head in amusement.

“Jongho, quick. Write a message to Yunho and ask when exactly he felt something was wrong.”

“Does it matter?” Gaeul asked. “Where was I for the two years that I have no memory of?”

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why we always need Hongjoong,” Jongho bowed dramatically, making San pout as he slumped back to the couch.

—------------------

The last thing Mingi expected one fine Sunday morning was Yeosang strolling into his chamber, materialising out of thin air, and immediately fainting right on the couch.

For a second, Mingi panicked, but he could see his chest rise and fall. Mingi poked his arms- he even twitched, his blonde hair falling messily on his forehead. Mingi shook his head, scoffing. “A little warning would have been nice!”

Yeosang, of course, didn’t respond. It appeared that he had portalled himself. His portalling method was very different from Yena, and he had started practising it not too long ago, though he always had a theory it would work. But turning into a spirit and then materialising into a body elsewhere was risky business- more risky than Yena opening a portal in space and risk portalling somewhere else- or some ‘time’ else.

Or perhaps, Mingi thought as he sat down beside Yeosang, going back to his documents, perhaps portalling into an unknown dimension with a different flow of time was more dangerous.

Mingi recalled the time when the darkling Kieran had almost driven Yena mad, forcing her to practise her time magic so he could go back in time for some twisted revenge. Mingi had found Yena just in time, and Yena in a state of panic had accidentally portalled herself and Mingi into another dimension where time flow was different. After spending months in that dimension, they came back when Yena finally figured out exactly where she was, finding that only a few hours had passed in reality.

If Yena had been alone, he wasn’t sure she would have made it back. She was in no state to be alone, after being a hostage to Kieran. Mingi wondered sometimes if he was fated to be the one to find Yena. It had somehow made his magic different, spending that time with her in a dimension where no one else but the two existed.

This was definitely why he could feel some poor soul with its own magic burning it. He was sure Yeosang could feel it too and was here to talk about it.

He was right. When Yeosang finally woke up, it took him a good few moments to gain his senses. Mingi pointed to the bottle of water in front of him and he hungrily gulped all of it down- portalling, for some reason, left him parched. Once he had finished the last drop, he finally breathed.

“You look well,” Yeosang commented.

“Because I have been sitting in my own body unlike someone in this room,” Mingi scoffed, amused. “What are you up to?”

“I heard some rumours that I thought I’d share with you first,” Yeosang leaned forward, “Some very… interesting rumours.”

Mingi ran a hand through his red hair. “Well?”

“Apparently,” Yeosang’s eyes glittered, “someone actually came back from the dead.”

Mingi gave Yeosang the side-eye. “As in?”

Yeosang huffed. “My spirits tell me that something was amiss. As you know, time flow doesn’t affect them. So when Yena changed the timeline, nothing in that dimension changed. Anyways, from the reports I gathered, there was some sort of black hole- if you can call it that- forming in that dimension. I don’t know how I missed it, but some tell me it didn’t stay in the same place.”

“And what does that mean?” Mingi frowned.

“Apparently the hole grew until it disappeared one day about six months ago. Again, I’m not sure about the time, but that’s what I got.”

“I think Yunho told me when he felt something strange. He was out in the ocean for days trying to figure out whatever it was.”

Yeosang paled after hearing that. “That sounds too similar to necromancy. Water and black holes. The dimension of the dead. Never a good combination. But… necromancy doesn’t work like that. It’s done by someone, and the black hole doesn’t ‘travel’ around the dimension, it sticks to the reality here. And… there’s something else.”

Mingi raised his brows in anticipation and Yeosang sighed. “I casually confirmed with San, Wooyoung, and Jongho’s court, but there have been people going ‘missing’ in the past few months. No traces, no pattern. My spirits tell me that they’re alive, but they… They are in another dimension. Maybe sucked by the black hole.”

“That’s crazy, why would someone willingly go into something that looked like a black hole?”

“Unless they were dragged in it,” Yeosang bit his lips. “If my sources aren’t lying- and they have no reason to- they believe some ‘otherworldly’ creatures now prowl in this land.”

Mingi sat back, taking a deep breath. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face ‘otherworldly’ creatures- the creatures that already existed on this planet were enough. “So what’s your verdict?”

“Hongjoong. He needs to hear this. I think… it’s time we all gathered. Whatever this is, it’s not supposed to exist.”

“Actually,” Mingi pursed his lips, “I can feel it too. A soul burning from too much magic, except it’s not magic. It’s… something different.”

“Yeah. It has the ability to disintegrate living beings. What do we do?”

“Send a message to Hongjoong first,” Mingi immediately started writing a message. “We need to gather.”

—------------------

Hongjoong was in the middle of the Peridot Sea, somewhere between Mingi’s Kingdom of Leo and Wooyoung’s Kingdom of Sagittarius, when he got Mingi’s message informing him that apparently someone was back from the dead and they needed to meet in person so they could discuss it properly.

Hongjoong looked up at the cloudy sky, as gloomy as his mood. Yugyeom, who was quite pleased with the detour because he needed a break from the castle duties, raised a brow. “Everything alright?”

“Not at all,” Hongjoong smiled helplessly, asking for a pen. He scribbled his location and dared Yeosang to portal himself here since there was a chance he would very well land in the sea.

Yeosang’s reply through Mingi’s fire message came a minute later, a very provocative drawing along with a request to land on their continent- Algieba was the closest. Hongjoong sent an okay, instructing Yugyeom to turn their course west. Yugyeom, who had an affinity for air, helped the ship change its course without much effort. They could already see land so it would only take about an hour.

As soon as he landed at the beach, he sent Yeosang and Mingi the message. Yugyeom brought food from the ship. “Good thing we landed. With this amount of food you wouldn’t last two days.”

Hongjoong passed him a side-eye. “You should have stored more.”

“Who decided to take a detour in the middle of our very planned-out tour to Rukbat?” Yugyeom scoffed, slumping down on the sand and opening the bag which included snacks and everything unhealthy that Hongjoong loved to eat. Hongjoong picked a box of cookies, offering some as an apology and Yugyeom rolled his eyes, laughing.

“I’m probably going to Mingi’s castle. Wanna join me?”

“I should,” Yugyeom nodded. “It’s been a while since I met Wonpil.”

“Ah, yes,” Hongjoong nodded. “You have friends everywhere. Let’s hope we get a ride before we get a heatstroke in the desert.”

Luckily for the two, Mingi had already sent some of his friends that resided in the desert to pick Hongjoong and Yugyeom. The two dozed off the entire ride back, waking up only when they stopped to get a good night’s rest and then the next day, they reached Mingi’s castle, greeted by an unusually grim looking duo.

“At least wear a smile when you greet me!” Hongjoong wailed and the two burst out laughing which was when Hongjoong realised this was an act and he ran forward to smack them. “I swear I will never get a break!”

“You’ll be wearing this grim face soon enough, don’t worry,” Yeosang laughed, dodging a hit to the arm. “Come on. Let’s eat before we lose our appetite.”

Yugyeom took that as a clue to run away. “I don’t wish to lose my appetite. Hongjoong, I’ll be staying here for a day or two before I go back. That okay?”

Everyone gave him a thumbs-up and watched him spot Wonpil and happily run to his old friend. “See?” Hongjoong watched them hug like long lost brothers. “That’s how you greet a friend.”

“Whatever,” Mingi grinned cheekily, ruffling Hongjoong’s ginger hair. “Come along before I drag you there.”

The three avoided discussing anything over dinner, enjoying the carefree bantering and making fun of each other just like everything was normal, to the point where for a moment they forgot all about the trouble they were in.

“I have something to say about this,” Hongjoong began. Yeosang started clapping and Mingi wheezed with laughter. “I haven’t even begun!”

“You’ve said enough,” Yeosang laughed. “You don’t get the right to tell me to stop portalling like this when you literally disappear into the light. At this rate, you’ll find yourself some thousand light years away from us. At least I’ll only be lost in another dimension.”

“It doesn’t work like that-”

“Should I try materialising into fire?” Mingi cackled and Hongjoong rolled his eyes at how Yeosang and Mingi kept trolling him.

“You’ll burn yourself if you ever try that,” Hongjoong commented. “Just because you’re the Prince of Fire doesn’t mean-”

“Yes, Hongjoong, just because you’re the Prince of Light doesn’t mean you get to shine your light of wisdom on us,” Mingi said and the room fell silent before the three started hollering again, Yeosang applauding.

“If you’re done fooling around,” Jae, Mingi’s Right Hand entered, shaking his head in amusement at the young princes. “The chambers are ready, and tea awaits.”

“Ah, yes, time to sleep,” Hongjoong nodded, getting up, hearing one of the two mutter ‘boomer’. “Thank you- and please make sure Yugyeom leaves after two days. Yugyeom and Wonpil shouldn’t be together for too long.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure,” Jae smiled devilishly. “Let’s hope they don’t bring the castle down with their chaos.”

As the three settled in Mingi’s living room, they realised how the gravity of the situation kept nagging at their subconsciousness. Yeosang glanced at the two. “Is it time we finally address the problem?”

“You first,” Hongjoong nodded.

“I am not sure about what time this took place, but something like necromancy brought someone back from the dead. Apparently a black hole kept moving around in my dimension of spirits, until a while ago it disappeared. I think that’s when someone came back from the dead- but it doesn’t look like they were ‘brought’ back to life. It just… happened. And it burned the soul of a faerie with its magic in a way I’ve never seen or heard of, Hongjoong. Other than that, there are reports of missing faeries throughout Kingdoms of Cancer, Sagittarius and Libra. Throughout that continent only. Apparently some ‘otherworldly’ creatures have been spotted and are said to have come from the blackholes- my spirits tell me that the missing faeries are alive but not in this plane- not in this dimension.”

“I understand,” Hongjoong nodded, his face not giving any indication of what was going on inside his head. “Mingi?”

“I felt it too, I feel it now as well,” Mingi shifted in his chair. “Whatever this magic is, it’s not normal. It’s burning the soul of the possessor, but then… at the same time it’s keeping it alive too.”

“Interesting,” Hongjoong slumped back. “The ‘it’ we are referring to is a faerie of about our age, named Gaeul. She’s in Wooyoung’s Palace right now where San and Jongho are present too.”

“Wow,” Yeosang scoffed. “Why didn’t they inform us?”

“I specifically asked them to report only to me, as I asked you two and everyone else,” Hongjoong said. “I have a theory, and it’s not good. Whatever you both told me, it’s only making my theory more plausible. According to Yunho, he detected something fishy in the ocean about six months ago. He spent days trying to figure out the source but it was like the source kept changing locations.”

“That must be when the black hole shifted to this dimension of reality?” Yeosang asked.

“Seems like it,” Hongjoong nodded. “I don’t know who Gaeul is and what makes her so special, but I believe… according to the memory she thinks she has… Kieran killed her somehow. For such a phenomenon to happen, either he calculated it to the extent that he already knew when Yena would go back in time, or it occurred unintentionally- a big, unfortunate coincidence.”

“But with Kieran, nothing is a coincidence,” Mingi pursed his lips.

“Exactly, but we cannot be too sure right now. Either way, he killed Gaeul and she came back because Yena changed the timeline and somehow, Gaeul’s life was connected to it. If Yena hadn’t changed the timeline, she would have remained dead.”

“But theoretically, like Seonghwa, Gaeul should have just been ‘alive’. How is her situation different from Seonghwa?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out, and we also need to check if the missing faeries are indeed connected to all of this,” Hongjoong sighed. “We need to trace that black hole, Yeosang. And we need… Yunho. Get a good night’s sleep because from tomorrow, we will travel.”

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jooniperbonsai · 3 months

Text

Thanks For The Sub (ksj) | Chapter One

Pairing: Camboy!Seokjin x Gamer!Reader (afab)

Rating: 18+

Chapter One length: 11-14k 18,371 (OOPS LOL)

Release date: Fri. January 19, 2024.

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, camboy au, gamer au, comedy, crack, slow burn (?), coworkers/boss/friends to lovers, an exploration of adults in their late 20s/early 30s

Summary: After a clip of you sucking at video games goes viral, you've become somewhat famous, with thousands of subscribers now tuning in each week to see you play. Overnight, you've gone from a sexually frustrated grad student who reads smut in her room to a gamer girl (or rather, a not-gamer girl). This would have been the perfect job, except it was never the job you wanted. Desperate for money to pay for grad school, you bounce between your new gig and working at a local restaurant to pay the bills, where your hot coworker-now-boss Seokjin plays many of the lead roles in your sexual fantasies.

Seokjin, two years post losing his fiancé and job within the same day, is tired of the rut he's dug himself into and wants to start over. Now 30 years old, he's stuck managing his family's restaurant where he harbors an insanely inappropriate crush on you on top of carrying one hell of a secret: Seokjin is also known as Jin, a successful gay-for-pay camboy on the streaming site Worldwide Handsome.

When the stress of the upcoming semester and the pressure to stream becomes more than you can handle, you seek out some much-needed stress relief online, only to discover a man who looks a little too much like your boss is staring right back at you.

Warnings for Chapter One: Swearing, cheating (not between main characters), big age gap between lesser characters that can be uncomfy, sex work, gay sex work when the worker is actually not gay (but everyone is chill about it), <- allusions to queer fetishization bc of this, feelings of shame and guilt, feelings of failure/depression, improper restaurant safety procedures, the existential crisis of your late-20s/30s that we all seem to go through, off-handed references to kpop culture including fanfics because I'm a clown and need to call us out sometimes, silly literary tropes, references to pregnancy (NOT reeader), boss-employee power dynamics, allusions to queer BTS members or relationships, cameos of au Seventeen Members (Wonwoo and y/n are besties). NSFW sex stuff: big dick Seokjin (of course), Seokjin with rolled shirt sleeves and cutting things in a kitchen, Daddy Dom Seokjin makes himself known, blindfolds, camming (obviously), f/m masturbation, lots of dirty talk, sex toys, degradation kink, praise kink, sexual fantasies at the worst moment, kink exploration, a lot cum (sorry), I mention the omegaverse as a joke, a sparkly pink dildo, seokjin has a massive collection of toys and he intends to use them, seokjin and reader are constantly horny, reader is kind of inexperienced, implied exhibitionism kink, implied voyeurism, implied public sex.

a/n: it's here (and longer than I intended but oh well!) this fic is inspired by a combination of fics from the lovely writing community on here, the copious amounts of smut I read, a dabble of my friends or my own experience, & the high drama of kdramas. I felt really compelled to write this fic after rereading "tip 143 (for ∞ seconds of love)" by minilouvre on ao3. I feel like the camboy/person trope is so fun to explore and I wanted to try my own take on it with our Seokjin, who doesn't seem to get as many fics written about him but absolutely deserves it. I also wanted to create space for a fic that explores the weird transition of late 20s-30s that both BTS and I (and maybe many of you) have experienced in the last few years. I hope you enjoy! I keep my inbox open, so lmk your thoughts!

xo - h

That’s it baby cum for me.

Such a good little slut for Daddy.

Wish that dildo was my cock.

Fuck this is so hot.

The tip jar was going wild. The mute button tapped long ago, tonight was by far the most successful night camming Seokjin had ever had. He would definitely be able to afford that new gaming PC after this.

Thank god. After three hours streaming, he was getting tired of riding the glittery pink dildo. It was cute–a Christmas gift from one of his loyal subscribers– but admittedly, he hadn’t prepped well enough before putting it in an hour ago, and when he let out a pained groan as he sank down on it, he immediately knew he would be feeling it tomorrow, and maybe the next day.

His only consolation was the five new top-tier subscriptions he’d received while experiencing searing hot pain. He’d clearly appealed to someone’s kink. Well, there was always something for everyone.

Seokjin knew this well. Today was his two-year anniversary since his first livestream on Worldwide Handsome, an international gay live cam site. During those two years he had seen just about every kink requested, from wax play to autoerotic asphyxiation to something called the omegaverse; he’d sifted through the internet and researched enough on each request to decide which ones he’d be willing to perform, and which kinks were too much outside of his comfort zone.

Now, with an apartment full of gifted costumes and drawers full of just about every type of sex toy known to the human population (and perhaps even some aliens if those toys held any accuracy), it was obvious that Seokjin was a knowledgeable and successful camboy who could fulfill so many men’s fantasies.

Except for the fact that Seokjin wasn’t actually gay.

Which is, as it turns out, also something people are into.

Two Years Ago

It wasn’t that Seokjin ever intended to be a gay sex cam worker, much less a camboy at all, but two years, four months, three weeks, and twelve hours ago, Seokjin hopped on a plane after finishing a week-long conference in Los Angeles. He’d booked the first flight out, eager to come home to his fiancé.

During the week, he hadn’t heard much from her. He understood, of course. She’d mentioned before he left that during that week she would be busy catching up on work and finalizing a really important project with a looming deadline. She’d been stressed about it the morning he left, practically shoving him out the door with his suitcase.

But he missed her desperately, especially with the distance between them, and he was hoping he could regain some of that intimacy by trying phone sex. They’d been having less sex recently, probably from the stress of work, but he still craved her every single day, just like he did when they were in college.

For most of his and Soon Yi’s relationship, they were insatiable. In college, they were known for being embarrassingly public in their displays of affection, with Yoongi once catching them in the kitchen at a party with Soon Yi’s hand down Seokjin’s pants and Seokjin’s hands up Soon Yi’s shirt. At first, Seokjin wondered if he always felt so horny because of his raging hormones and the fact that Soon Yi was the first person he’d had sex with. But even three years later, on the night he’d proposed, they had to leave the restaurant he rented out so they could have sex in the car.

Soon Yi was charming. She matched Seokjin’s wit, always ready to keep up with a joke and take it to the next level. She fit in effortlessly with his group of friends, remembering their birthdays and always showing up with a tiny treat for them, even if they hated celebrating. His parents adored her the moment they met her. She was frequently fawned over when she visited his work to bring him lunch or to just stop by and say hello.

When his boss, Mr. Choi met her during the company’s annual gala, he told Seokjin she was enchanting, she was the moon that lit up the evening sky. Mr. Choi was also incredibly drunk when he said this, but he wasn’t wrong.

Soon Yi glowed through Seokjin’s darkest nights like the moon.

That’s why when she denied every video call request he made during his trip, Seokjin knew something was wrong. He felt desperate and needy, something he’d never experienced during their relationship.

As he laid in his hotel bed, touching himself to their memories, a strange need overtook him: he wanted to remind her that despite all the work stress, they always got through everything together and ultimately, being intimate might help with reconnection.

So at the end of his boring conference, he flew back, planning on surprising her when she got home with a delicious meal and sexy massage. Maybe he’d even use those silly novelty heart-shaped handcuffs Jungkook got him as a gag gift.

He was ready to rekindle his love for the moon.

What Seokjin wasn’t ready for was the fact that when he walked through the door of his house, the only moon he saw was that of Mr. Choi’s naked ass as he thrust into Soon Yi on the dining room table.

As it became immediately apparent, Soon Yi’s “work project” was clearly what was playing out before him as he watched the only woman he’d ever been in love with writhe in ecstasy underneath his much older work superior.

It would have been one thing to lose his fiancé, but in witnessing this entanglement, Seokjin also knew he’d lost his job. Due to the blur of his memory, his brain trying to erase what he’d seen, he wasn’t entirely sure when they realized he was home. However, by the time he had grabbed another duffel with some fresh, non work-related clothes from his dresser–after he breezed past his unmade bed that probably didn’t smell like him anymore–Soon Yi and Mr. Choi were half dressed and sheepishly waiting for him near the entry.

Seokjin couldn’t bring himself to look either of them in the eyes as he stated his resignation letter would be on Mr. Choi’s desk the following morning.

When he arrived at Jimin and Jungkook’s apartment to crash, that’s when reality set in. What would he do now? He had no house to live in, no job to make money from, and he just lost the love of his life.

His head was splitting from the idea of car payments, a mortgage under his name for a place he wouldn’t be living in, having to tell his parents, calling the wedding venue and paying that awful cancellation fee on top of not getting his deposit back. The extra zeros in his bank account were depleting fast and it wasn’t like he would be able to sleep on Jimin and Jungkook’s couch forever.

After two weeks of dodging family phone calls, desperately applying to every job that didn’t sound like a scam, waking up in the middle of the night from the lumpiness of the couch or Jungkook’s horrible snoring, Seokjin felt like he was out of options.

“I’m going to call my parents and tell them. Maybe I can work at the restaurant for the time being while I wait for callbacks. I have some money in my savings for my own apartment. I just can’t keep doing this,” he said.

“Hyung, are you sure? You know that we don’t mind you being here as long as you need. Really, it’s not an issue.” Jimin was gentle as always, the concern on his face knitting his eyebrows together.

But Seokjin knew he was avoiding the inevitable, so when he nodded and then called his parents, their warm voices on the other end felt like a sign he’d made the right decision after all.

The next week, Seokjin began working at his family’s restaurant, filling in for shifts that were short, typically in the kitchen. Chopping and prepping the food for the chefs, dish washing, and anything that kept his hands busy were welcome distractions from the painful reminder of what awaited him outside of the restaurant.

Soon Yi was pregnant. Seokjin found out one day when he stopped by to grab a load of his things to bring to his new apartment. While both he and Soon Yi agreed to sell the house, it appeared she was taking longer than him to pack. He figured this was because she would be moving in with Mr. Choi, who lived in the penthouse of a luxury apartment complex downtown.

During their meeting with the real estate agent, Soon Yi had scribbled her new contact information and mailing address onto some forms with Mr. Choi’s details. Wealthy people always operated on their own timeline, one where they could hire a moving company to have everything neatly packed and stored within hours.

Seokjin, however, was limited to an ongoing loop of back and forth where he crammed his car full of silverware, lamps, and his MapleStory figure collection Soon Yi once mocked him for collecting. As Seokjin continued to pack away his belongings, he saw it. In the guest bathroom outside of the kitchen, there were two positive pregnancy tests in the garbage can.

Soon Yi was pregnant and the father wasn’t him. The last time they’d had sex was three months ago. She would have known by now if that were the case.

A wave of nausea rushed over him, and somewhere between bouts of gagging and wiping tears from his eyes, Seokjin realized that things were truly over.

Two months passed, and still he couldn’t find a job. While the restaurant gig was taking care of some of his bills, it was only a matter of time before Seokjin would be unable to take care of himself. At 28 years old, he’d have to move back in with his parents, which was next to impossible in terms of space, not to mention the fact that his brother and wife were living with them while their apartment was being renovated to better accommodate a life transition of their own: they were expecting their first child.

Given his semi-recent discovery, being around a pregnant woman was something Seokjin didn’t particularly want a reminder of.

“I don’t know what to do. Something has to give,” he said one day as he sat in Yoongi’s living room. A thick coat of snow was covering the earth outside, though from the sweat running down the back of Seokjin’s neck, you would never be able to tell. Yoongi always kept his home at the exact opposite of the climate outside, trying to quell the possibility he would have to experience any physical discomfort if he dared to ever leave his house, which he rarely did.

His friends all sat around him, quietly sipping their whisky or beer while the flashing light from the TV casted a kaleidoscope of colors across the coffee table. Hoseok nudged Taehyung, who’d fallen asleep at some point between the long pauses in conversation. Seokjin couldn’t blame him.

It was late, much later than the invitation Yoongi extended typically lasted, but this meetup was different. Everyone had always known Seokjin to be optimistic. From a goofy dad-joke-making 18 year old until now, he’d consistently been a source of light. When Taehyung’s grandmother died a few years back, it was Seokjin who made him first smile again with a spot-on impression of his own halmoni as they slurped bowls of naengmyeon.

His hair was shaggy and unkempt, his smile fading quickly from his face after cracking a joke. His jokes were also darker, less silly and eye-rolling and more self-deprecating and sarcastic. It was like his life was draining from him before their eyes, and it was becoming nearly impossible to stomach.

But concern doesn’t always lead to action, which is why they were sitting around in Yoongi’s living room hoping the whisky would give them some inspiration to find a solution to Seokjin’s problem that he wouldn’t immediately turn down. They’d scoured job sites together earlier, and anything in Seokjin’s former profession only led to him suggesting his next boss better be a woman or else he might have to keep his future girlfriend away from corporate events or dining tables. Other careers in his field were met with similar disdain.

Seokjin wasn’t always this way. In college, he didn’t know what kind of job he wanted or where he wanted to end up, so he majored in acting, hoping that it would lead him where he would eventually develop some sense of passion.

In a sense it did. During an internship with an entertainment company shortly after he graduated, his attention to detail, natural charisma, and flexibility showcased a skillset he didn’t even know he had, which resulted in him being offered a position in their corporate headquarters the following fall. He’d been there ever since.

But Seokjin didn’t want to return to the same life he’d had. So much of his life up to this point had been the same, and it clearly didn’t work out for him, so why continue on? The only issue was that he once again felt like he was 18, trying to decide on a path to follow when he didn’t even know who he was anymore. Nothing was appealing to him.

“What about video game streaming?” Namjoon suggested. “You love games, and you have all the equipment. You used to talk about doing that all the time.”

“Yeah, hyung. You’re also really good at talking and stuff, so it would be fun to watch you do it!” Taehyung perked up at this suggestion, shaking off his sleepiness to contribute to the conversation. “I’ve seen how much streamers make with all their sponsorships and stuff, they don’t even have to work another job!”

The energy in the room picked up slightly as they waited expectantly for an answer.

Seokjin grunted. “Okay, look. I would love to do that. That’s my dream job. But you’re forgetting something important. Those streamers didn’t just jump on the internet one day and then got thousands of subscribers and sponsorships to pay their bills overnight. Some of them took years to build up their following before they even started making money off of it. A lot of people actually lose money from game streaming. And I need money now. I don’t have that kind of time!”

Taehyung deflated, settling himself back into the couch next to Hoseok, who gave him a tender pat on his thigh.

“But what if…what if you did a kind of streaming that made you money pretty much right away?” Jungkook offered quietly.

Seokjin glanced over at his youngest friend, who was holding his empty whisky glass in his hands instead of looking at him.

“What do you mean? Is there some kind of gaming livestream service that does that?” Now Seojkin was curious.

“Um, well, not for gaming, exactly. I was just thinking. Um, you could always do like an OnlyFans or something? I have a friend who does it and she sometimes makes $1000 a night. And that would take care of–”

“You mean being a camboy? Jungkook, seriously? Listen I know we’ve all had a bit to drink, but that’s a ridiculous idea.” Seokjin snorted. “Besides, the market is flooded with people doing their own sex work. Maybe your friend is just really pretty or something to make that much from it, but I highly doubt I would make any money off OnlyFans because no one would even see me!”

Jungkook nursed his bottom lip between his teeth as he was dismissed, his body mirroring Taehyung as he fell back into the couch cushions.

“Hyung is right,” Jimin added finally, having spent most of the night settled quietly next to an even quieter Yoongi. “He wouldn’t make much money on OnlyFans. All the men on there are either ugly or buff, and Seokjin-hyung looks way too gay to appeal to that market.”

Yoongi, who was sipping his whisky as Jimin spoke, spluttered into the glass as he lost his composure, falling into a fit of laughter. From the other side of the room, Hoseok joined in, clapping and gasping for air between laughs.

“Excuse me? What the hell does that even mean? Yah, stop laughing! It’s not funny!” Seokjin fought the smile that was trying to form on his lips. Okay, it was a little funny.

“Well, hyung, isn’t it obvious? Remember that one time we went to a gay bar and all those guys I tried to pick up tried to pick you up instead?” Jimin sighed as he glanced at Seokjin before reaching across the coffee table to grab a handful of cheese balls.

“We’ve been over this. They weren’t trying to pick me up. They just told me I was really handsome and had fuckable lips. And they’re not wrong!”

“Wait when did you guys go to a gay bar? Where was I?” Yoongi cleared his throat, finally recovering from his laughing fit.

“You didn’t want to come, remember? I don’t know why you’re asking this, you never want to go anywhere. Anyway that’s besides the point. Seokjin-hyung and I went to the gay bar and he stole all of the guys I was hitting on because they wanted to make him their baby girl!”

Hoseok wiped a tear from his eye and chuckled. “Yeah, no, hyung I’m sorry but if Jimin is being passed up at a gay bar for you, you clearly give off that vibe. I can see it. You look all soft and plushy and like you would be the perfect bottom.”

Seokjin tried to fight off the heat that was creeping up his neck into his ears, but after a few glasses of whisky, and the ungodly temperature of the room, it was a failed mission to avoid being flushed.

Jimin shot a glare at Hoseok, who shrugged. “What? I meant it as a compliment!”

“Well, thanks I guess. Now I know I look like I’m gay. That doesn’t seem to solve my problem here!” Seokjin looked over at Namjoon for backup, but all Namjoon seemed to be able to do was give him an apologetic smile.

“No, I know, I know. We got off topic.” Jimin said, “Sort of. Listen, like I said before you wouldn’t be successful on OnlyFans, just because of what they market. But you could always market yourself differently. And I’m thinking, if you really need to make money fast, you could always work with what you’ve got going for you.”

The entire room went silent.

“Wait,” Namjoon said, “you don’t mean…” His eyes flitted to Seokjin and widened in alarm.

Slowly, everyone shifted as they realized what Jimin was suggesting, Seokjin evidently being the last one.

How was he supposed to work with what he had when what he had was apparently drawing a different crowd of people from the one he was interested in? What did Jimin mean by marketing himself differently? Was he supposed to just stream on websites that were exclusively for gay men?

Oh. That’s exactly what Jimin was saying.

“Wh-Jimin what the fuck? You mean I should be a gay camboy? I know we just talked about me being attractive to men, but I’m not interested in them that way!”

Jimin huffed. “Well obviously I know you’re not gay. Otherwise we might not be in this situation.”

Seokjin winced.

“Sorry, that was unfair. It’s just…hyung, you’ve been so not like yourself lately. And you’re right, something needs to change. I know you’re not gay, but this still could help. Haven’t you heard of gay for pay? Like in porn and stuff a bunch of straight actors will fuck each other or some gay guy because it pays more than straight porn. It’s the same thing.”

“Only you don’t have to actually fuck anyone. Maybe you should remind him of that,” Yoongi added.

“Right, exactly! Look, you don’t have to do it. But it could help you get by and pay bills in the meantime until you find something else that you want to do. And there’s a lot of sites where you can stream even once and get a direct payout the next day. It might be worth a shot.”

Seokjin thought about it for a moment. It didn’t sound completely awful. From what he’d seen from the times he saw cam sites out of curiosity, most of what happened was masturbating and talking to people. And he didn’t hate people. But something about it made him nervous.

“I don’t know if I’d be okay with being watched. That seems embarrassing.”

“Oh please, the number of times you and Soon Yi fucked basically in public is astronomical. You’re practically an exhibitionist,” Hoseok teased.

“That was different! I was with her! Now it would be everyone watching just me up close and personal. Namjoon-ah, talk some sense into them. This is crazy, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know if it actually is, hyung,” Namjoon said lightly. “Jimin-ah and Hobi have made some good points. And I think…I think if you weren’t even just a little bit curious you would have immediately said no instead of going back and forth with them over it like how you flat out said no to the other stuff. Maybe you’re feeling a bit shy because it’s been a little while and you are trying to heal through the breakup and stuff, but you also don’t have to do it or you can do it once and change your mind after if you want.

“It just doesn’t seem to me like this is the worst option for you. You get to talk to people, you can maybe have fun. You don’t see the people on the other side anyway, so if you wanted to pretend they were girls instead of guys you could, or turn off the comments probably? It’s not real sex though. And even if it was, is that so wrong? It’s not like you would be cheating on Soon Yi for doing this. I mean-”

“Thanks Hyung! I think we get it!” Jimin interjected, raising his eyebrows at Namjoon as if to say shut the fuck up.

Seokjin felt his stomach sink. Is this why he was panicked at the thought? It wasn’t real sex, but it almost felt like he would be doing something wrong by doing this. Not morally against himself, but someone else. Maybe he was still hanging on to Soon Yi in ways he didn’t fully realize.

He felt almost like a heavy weight was pressing on his chest and forbidding him from moving on. What would happen then if he tried doing this for himself? Would the weight still feel the same? He wanted to know.

“Ah, fine, I’ll think about it.” He looked over at Yoongi, who looked relieved that the conversation was nearing its end. “You have anything to add to this? A final voice of reason?”

Yoongi snorted as he jumped up to stretch. “Nah. Except, as your former roommate, ‘Seok’s got a point about the exhibitionism thing. You were way too into showing me your dick all the time and walking around naked when we roomed together.”

The room erupted into laughter, Seokjin himself joining. This time his smile didn’t immediately fall from his face.

Slowly, everyone else stood, bodies unwinding from furniture and each other. While Jimin ordered Jungkook and himself a taxi, Seokjin waited with him.

“My only issue is, how do I pretend to be gay? Won’t they know I’m not?”

Jimin scoffed as he nudged a sleepy and tipsy Jungkook into his shoes. “I don’t know hyung. You have an acting degree. Use it.”

A few weeks later, Seokjin held his first stream, nervously engaging with the handful of viewers trickling in and tried to deflect the discomfort he felt in his new spotlight.

“Um, hi everyone. My name’s Jin. Thanks for coming. You can probably tell, but this is my first time and I’m really nervous. I hope you enjoy the show.”

Seokjin decided to shorten his name for his streams to help him feel like he was embodying a different persona, someone named Jin who may actually be gay. It wasn’t a big change, but it was nice to give himself some separation from Seokjin, the guy who was doing gay for pay to afford a new life.

Unfortunately, Jimin’s suggestion for Seokjin to act wasn’t as easy to implement as he’d hoped. Within the first half hour, viewers of his stream had noticed he was still nervous, and started asking him questions to get him to unwind, and hopefully undress.

“Ah, yeah, uh, anal. I’ve done it once or twice, it’s nice.” It wasn’t a lie, he’d tried anal a few times with Soon Yi and did find it nice, but he also knew that this wasn’t what the question was asking.

“Do I have a boyfriend? No, I’m single.”

Slowly he began undressing, the heat of his half-truths causing him to feel like he was burning up.

“Are you really gay? Well, what kind of question is that? I’m here aren’t I?”

That question seemed to satisfy his audience for another half hour, until a new thread of people trickled in, asking him the same questions. He was running out of ways to answer.

I don’t care if you’re straight. You’re still hot.

When he read this comment, he exhaled deeply. And from that one reaction, a flurry of others joined in.

Yeah, idc either. You’re still so pretty.

So hot if u were straight. Maybe I’d convert u. ;)

I’d let you put it into my ass and let you pretend it was a pussy.

For some reason, these comments began to fuel him. The attention was kind of nice. It reminded him of how he used to feel.

Maybe he didn’t need to act gay to get what he wanted. Maybe he could just enjoy the pleasure of the compliments and company and see what happened from there? The weight he had been carrying around in his chest was feeling a bit lighter, and the comments were helping distract him from the pinches of guilt that he was doing something wrong. Because he wasn’t.

Here, he was Jin, a sexy, flirty guy who could shine in the sky of his own making.

Jin, the moon.

That’s it. He was the moon.

Present

“That’s it, give it to me. Please, I’m gonna cum.” Seokjin hoped the words he moaned at his camera were true. He was so tired, and he wanted to be free from the stupid dildo.

Lately, Seojkin has been having a hard time cumming on stream. He wasn’t sure why. For so long it had never been an issue, but streaming had begun feeling less like a fun way to relieve stress and more like an actual job.

Never before was he so popular with his stream, and while it’s nice to see a larger deposit being made into his bank account each week, every time he came home from the restaurant and knew he was scheduled to do a cam show, his stomach knotted up with dread.

The last time he felt this feeling was a little over two years ago, when hopping on planes to fly to mundane conferences or sitting in board rooms for morning meetings consumed all his time. Even during the period he was jobless, there was a tiny part of him relishing the fact that the work-related dread was over.

And it returned with a vengeance. Seokjin tried everything, ventured into new kinks and even the game features of the website with the hope that he would feel the rush he used to love from streaming. But nothing really worked. It was now just his job.

He didn’t even want to stream for so long tonight, but because it was his anniversary, he wanted to make sure he ended on a good note to thank his viewers.

One thing Seokjin’s viewers loved was seeing him cum. It was the part of his stream when he always earned the most tips. Jimin had been right.

If Seokjin knew anything now, it’s that he had many assets worth using to finance his life, and his pretty face coupled with his big dick seemed to work for him.

But even as he stroked himself, precum dripping down the head of his cock, and even though he was riding the dildo in a way that would hit his prostate and finally give him an easy out, he could feel the edge pulling away.

“Fuck,” he grunted. He was losing it. He doubled down, rocking his hips to see if hitting a different sweet spot would do the trick. But it was to no avail; his cock was softening.

On his nightstand, his phone pinged, which only could mean one thing. Seokjin always turned his do not disturb mode on during his work hours, only allowing phone calls from his family or one alert from an app to pierce through the silence. This one was the alert.

It meant Y/N was online and you had just started a live stream of your own.

You were one of this month’s top gaming streamers, bringing in more viewers than Seokjin had ever received during his top months of streaming. You were popular not because you were good, but because you were the exact opposite.

You were awful at most games you played, jolting at jumpscares over and over, losing in first rounds of Fall Guys or Dead by Daylight. One time you jumped into a game of Fortnite and were eliminated by a potty-mouthed child the second you landed. Your jaw hung open as the tiny, high pitched voice called you a bitchass before falling into a fit of laughter that had Seokjin himself in tears.

You were inspiring. Sexy. You received dozens of comments every stream about how pretty you were or how great your laugh was, which you often didn’t read out loud but always offered a humble nod and show of thanks when you did. There was something about you that hit up the world around you, and though he wouldn’t so much as utter it out loud, Seokjin had a massive crush on you.

But Seokjin was also sort-of-not-really your manager. Unlike all the people pining over you in your comment section wishing they knew you in real life, Seokjin actually did. He saw you three times a week at his family’s restaurant that he was strong-armed into managing while his parents took the opportunity to finally travel and see other parts of the world.

Seokjin stayed, not because he needed the money. Not that his pay was all that much anyway.

Camming was incredibly lucrative for him, cementing his income in a way that allowed him to pay rent in a very nice apartment downtown. Seokjin was also someone who had always been smart with his finances and knew how to invest in the best trends.

When his house with Yoon Si finally sold (after four months of her taking her sweet time to gather her last belongings and sign off on him putting it on the market), Seokjin took his cut and applied it toward a better streaming setup and some lower level stocks…and a special edition MapleStory figurine to celebrate the new chapter in his life.

Seokjin’s family never seemed to question how he was able to afford his fancy apartment given how much money he made at their business. Well, they did ask once, but Seokjin orchestrated some simple lie saying he worked in cryptocurrency, and that seemed to be enough of an explanation for his family. No one wants to know how crypto works, which in the end worked in his favor.

He’d planned to leave the restaurant about 8 months ago, but then you showed up one day asking about a job. The restaurant was within walking distance to your university, where you were getting your master’s degree in early childhood education. While the program you were enrolled in had some funding, you’d told Seokjin’s mother you were a student and in need of work. The following Monday, Seokjin walked in and found you with an apron tied around your waist, your bright eyes and smile shining back at him. He couldn’t bring himself to leave after that.

A few months after you’d started working there, Seokjin and you had become somewhat friends, sharing stories about past jobs (minus some key details on Seokjin’s part), student observations you had to do for school, and your interests. You mentioned casually you were a livestreamer for gaming, never alluding to how popular you actually were.

Eventually, Seokjin convinced you to give him your username, batting his eyelashes dramatically and promising he would be your cheerleader. For some reason, that seemed to work, and later that night, Seokjin tuned in to your stream, one man among the thousands. From that moment on he let his crush become a safe thing where, like his own viewers, he could fantasize from behind a screen. Maybe soon he would actually ask you out on a date, taking your coworker relationship and transforming it into something more.

And then a month ago his parents left, leaving him with the roles and responsibility of manager. Which meant he was an authority figure who could arguably do whatever he wanted. Similar to how his boss in a way was an authority figure who could get whatever he wanted. That idea turned Seokjin’s stomach sour. He could never do anything about this crush now, not while you worked underneath him. It was too familiar and distorted, and he never wanted you to be in the position he was once in. It was completely inappropriate.

But try telling his dick that.

Two days ago, Seokjin witnessed you in the kitchen bending over to pick up onion peels that had fallen to the ground. You definitely weren’t aware, but your skirt had ridden up a bit while you were working, and that meant he could see a tiniest delicate trim of lace on your blush colored panties.

And despite the fact that Seokjin was 30 years old and had believed he’d gotten past his boner-in-public-just-from-seeing-underwear era during his teen years, he was evidently wrong. Because those panties and soft looking curve of ass didn’t just belong to anyone; they belonged to you.

This wasn’t the only time he got hard for you at work. Sometimes on days when there were no customers, he would watch you study at one of the tables, where you were prone to stretching your body after long periods of staring down, trying to unknot the tense muscles caused by sitting almost completely still as you tried to comprehend what you were reading.

During those stretches, you would often let out the most sexual moans and sighs as you felt relief and it was enough to have Seokjin tucking himself under his belt like a horny school boy. God, what he would do to hear you moan underneath him, because of him.

He thought about recording you stretching. He was addicted to your voice, your soft sighs. It would be so easy to just “leave” his phone in the booth behind you. Then he could hear it forever while he imagined what else made you moan. Did you like your nipples sucked? Did you sigh when you were being stretched open and felt full? How did you taste?

And then Seokjin pulled himself together and realized how sickeningly perverted he was to be thinking about you like this as he stood hard and aching in the middle of his parents’ fucking restaurant.

He wanted you. So much so that now as he worked his cock in his fist, he let himself fall more into fantasy, one where you were watching, curious about the many toys and gifts around his apartment, wondering how you could reach the limits of what you wanted and needed to make you scream. He imagined that across town, you weren’t firing up your computer for a night of cozy games, but rubbing your pussy at the same speed he was stroking himself, wet and begging for him to cum all over those gorgeous tits, that wet tongue–

Seokjin groaned as he came, his entire body trembling as a thick load erupted all over his hands, chin, and chest. Normally he could control the direction to minimize the mess but this orgasm caught him a bit off guard, almost completely lost until it crept up with a burning need and coated him. He hadn’t felt that good in a while.

As he panted and focused his eyes back onto the screen, his comments were flooded with praise and tips, viewers exclaiming how this might have been his best orgasm they’ve ever seen, which was saying a lot considering some of his subscribers had been with him from the very beginning, and there had been some pretty fantastic orgasms.

He wouldn’t deny it, though. He felt looser in his joints, calm washing over him and breaking apart the bitterness that was in his gut from how lackluster streaming had been recently. He wiped his chin with a grin and reached for the towel next to him, ready to wrap up his show. As he delivered his thank yous, one comment drifting through the chat stopped him dead in his tracks. His post-orgasmic high was crashing as panic flittered into his stomach.

Did you guys hear him moaning a name as he came? Who the fuck is Y/N?

She had to leave. If the king couldn’t overcome his malice, she knew she couldn’t stay. No amount of love she had for his son was going to make him see that. She’d told him she loved him despite the scar that ran over his left eye and down his soft cheek. She vowed to be good enough to marry him, do whatever it took. Yet the king and queen had laughed at her, had their guard hold his foot on her back so she couldn't stand up from her deep bow.

Laughed as they stood from their thrones to welcome the guest’s arrival: the consort for their son. The prince stood with them, silent as he followed them through the open doors. Quiet like how he used to be back in the first days of when she met him last summer. In memory, she couldn’t even fathom how he was anything like the man she’d grown to love. Yet, looking up from the pulp of the floor, she’d seen him return to that man.

Hadn’t the days she’d spent walking those palace gardens with him been enough? They’d stood together under the plum blossom tree in the middle of winter and he’d promised that he would love her even while the buds were hibernating.

“We can watch them become flowers together in the spring,” he’d said.

He had taken her to his bed that night. Used his sensuous tongue to lap at her sweet nectar. He devoured her heart and soul. Climaxed with her and held her through the heavy snow.

Where was that man now? She didn’t know.

She waited until well after nightfall, when even the latest bird twitterings were silenced by the call of sleep. She knew she couldn’t bring much, but she managed to slip into the kitchen after dinner to pull together a few scraps for the road. Where would she even go? The nearest village was at least a two-day walk and if he sent his men for her, she knew word would spread before she’d even arrived.

Unless he didn’t send anyone for her, she realized, her stomach dropping with nausea. He wouldn’t send anyone for her. She knew this. It’s why Prince August stood in the throne room, lethal as ever, even with no sword in his belt. August. Sugar. Whichever person he decided he was in the moment. Her nickname for him didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t sweet. His desire for power showed the bitterness in his heart. He had given in to his parents’ wishes, despite the times he swore he would never give them the satisfaction.

He was cruel. But even worse, she believed he wouldn’t be. She was a fool.

It was the darkest part of the night when she left the servant’s quarters. She’d miss the ladies and all their kindness, but she knew she couldn’t serve August his breakfast in his bedchamber after this. After knowing that the sheets she once laid in with him were now being laid in by someone else.

She took the back route, near the interior of the garden, ducking behind the ornamental shrubs and skirting past the watchpost the guards usually abandoned at this hour with ease. All that was left was to make it through the courtyard and she would be free.

She padded her way along the path. A light breeze of the pre-dawn was catching, fluttering the branches of the newly blossoming trees around her and blowing petals in their wake. She caught one in her fingertips and fought a sob. Plum blossoms.

Should she take one with her? For the memory? So that she could always have a part of him with her?

No, she decided. It would be too much to remember this. Once she passed through those gates, she would not be the same woman she was. Holding her breath, she let the petal go, hoping wherever the wind carried it, it would find the peace she too was looking for. It swept to the end of the courtyard, over the gate that was now her future.

This was a sign, she mourned. Not all promises were meant to be kept.

With a final look at the place she’d learned to call home, the man she’d learned to call home, she opened the gate, ready to forge into the unknown.

“Petal,” she thought she heard his call, his nickname for her. Though when she turned around, he was nowhere to be found.

She must’ve imagined it, wished for the impossible. As she took steps through the gate, she looked out at the world around her, the plum petal a few feet in front of her. Maybe she would take a piece of him with her, after all. It was too tempting not to.

She moved, trying to ignore the tug she felt back toward the palace, the invisible string of fate she thought that tied her to August trying to tangle her back in. She wouldn’t do it. She wouldn’t go back.

She bent down, clutching the petal tenderly in her palms and letting the first tears fall.

“So that’s it, hm? After all that, you weren’t even going to wish me goodbye.”

She rose swiftly, whipping around to the voice’s owner.

There, leaning against the outer palace wall, was August.

The alarm on your phone chimes, pulling you from the book in your lap. You’ve been reading all afternoon, the sun now taking its final bow before plunging the world into darkness. Soon you’ll have to turn the lights on, then it will be time for work. On your only day off.

You groan, stretching your neck as you allow yourself to come back to reality.

To some, it would be hard to call your job “work”. Many people dreamed of being professional game streamers. Who wouldn’t want to be paid to sit online, play games, and talk to people?

You don’t. That’s the problem.

Your ascent into gaming stardom was a fluke. About 9 months ago, you were in between semesters for your grad program and looking for ways to unwind. Your oldest friend, Wonwoo, was a pretty successful streamer who often hosted game nights to play with his viewers and friends.

You frequently watched his streams, letting his soft voice be the perfect background noise as you studied and formulated the next lesson plan or behavioral assessment. You’d known Wonwoo for what felt like forever at this point, being his first subscriber, first moderator, and first kiss (not in that order). But your middle school kiss outside of the convenience store never led to anything more than that, as desperately as you’d wanted it to.

Once he moved across the country, you let your crush die with the distance. The years turned faster and your twenties were spinning by with the revolving door of lovers you’d watch him pine over, cry over, and in one case, almost marry. Streaming then became one of your main forms of connection, and your role as his moderator tied some part of you to him out of loyalty. To imagine him as anything other than a friend now feels ridiculous.

But that loyalty you have is also to a fault. When Wonwoo’s usual streaming friends bailed one night during a tournament, you subbed in…for a game you didn’t even know how to play.

And to make matters worse, this was a game that required talking to each other on-stream, which meant you not only sucked major ass at this game, but Wonwoo’s 700 viewers that day were also subjected to your constant frustrated squeaks, swears, and embarrassed maws as you tried to key-smash your way to victory but ended up throwing the entire team’s game with your incompetence.

Wonwoo wasn’t mad, though many others were. He knew what he was getting into when he agreed, and his streams operated with very few rules: no hate, no spam, and we are in this to have fun. And he did have fun. By the time the first round was over, he and most of the chat were losing it over your commentary.

As he wiped tears from eyes and took in a breath, he read his comments. “‘Damn, I never heard a chick threaten someone with a plunger like that before’. Yeah, I’ll give it to you, Y/N, you got really creative with your insults in that. Hey, PartyShitty thanks for the sub! ‘I can’t BREATHE’, yeah I’m still trying to get it together. W00000000000000000ziiiiii–damn that’s a lot of zeros in that username–thanks for the 5000 points! ‘Is she hot’ uh, I mean, I don’t—

“Oh shit, LetsGetIt15, thank you for gifting twenty subs! ‘Please, Y/N, start your own channel. I’ll be the first subscriber.’ Actually, no, I’ll be. But really, that's not a bad idea.”

Wonwoo navigated the rest of his stream with ease that night, but after it was over, he called you to try to convince you to start your own channel.

“It could help with school at least! Or you could get that special edition of that one book you like with the dragons or the blue alien porn stars or whatever it is.”

“They’re neither of those things, they’re actually–”

“Whatever they are! The book that has people fucking nonstop and some plot. You know, the special edition cover that you keep talking about in your close friend story that you won’t buy?” Wonwoo said. “The point is, if you start streaming you could finally buy it and then stop talking about it and I won’t need to see sections about how hot you think their alien or fairytale or demon whatever cocks are.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his exasperation. “That won’t stop with me getting that book, just so you know. And if it bothers you so much, I can take you out of the close friend story. I didn’t even know you looked at my stories that much.” You didn’t know he still used Instagram at all actually. He very rarely posted. He mostly lived on his Discord channel talking about games with his subscribers or other friends.

Regardless, it was nice to know that he was trying to be aware of your interests, even if it was incredibly embarrassing. Although the copious amount of smut you read wasn’t something you always wanted to broadcast to the public, you’d still made some friends from online book communities over the last few years and enjoyed keeping them in the loop of your reading list.

Also, Wonwoo had a point. Streaming could help paying some of your school expenses…or get you more books. You told him you’d think about it, and while you weren’t completely in love with the idea of streaming, it did provide you with some steady income until you landed your job at the restaurant.

After that conversation, you haven’t discussed smut or cocks since, and you’re honestly relieved, not because Wonwoo is hard to talk to about things, but because you are. Which is why streaming always feels a little uncomfortable and your position ironic, because you can barely have conversations successfully unless you really know the person to ramble about your interests to, or you can occasionally eke by with small talk.

But streaming requires the spotlight being on you in some way at all times. It’s your face that is fixed to the corner of the screen, monitoring your every reaction. It’s your voice that echoes into the mic and responds to your chat. Sure, you have mods and some streamers don’t interact with their chat at all, but you don’t want to be like that. You’ve been on the other side before, and know that most people are just lonely and looking for connection. .

From the moment you decided to do this, you were aware that because you were now a “gamer girl” you would be subjected to the three extremes of the comment section: chronic oversharers who tell strangers all their personal baggage perhaps in the hope that you will assume some role of therapist to them, people coming to insult your gaming (which is the point so that can’t impact you) or physical appearance, or sexually explicit comments.

Over the months, you’ve seen many things flitting by on the screen, deleted in haste by your trusty mod squad, but it doesn’t stop the fact that you still see them.

Those things you can handle. They are impersonal and a direct copy-paste of the same thing.

But when people compliment you? That makes you want to bury yourself under your covers and never come out. Because the compliments are always personal and touching a part of you that is authentic.

The people in your chat want to know you. They want to know what kind of music you like, your favorite foods and books. They ask if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend or partner, compliment your hair or the shirt you’re wearing or your gaming setup. It feels intimate. Almost like you could find these people and touch them and let them know you.

But they can’t. Because the only thing that drew them to you, the part where you’re this funny, positive gamer chick who sucks at video games but is down for whatever, isn’t real.

Spring Day Streams Y/N is a persona. You don’t stream because you’re her. You stream because you have to be her in order to survive.

And now she’s taking up more time. Last month’s streams landed you Streamer of the Month, which thanks to the exposure, brought dozens of new subscribers and thousands of points, and that helped take care of some of your expenses for the new semester. Some. You’re still behind on your credit card bill.

Also, more people means more expectations for streaming. So you’ve kicked up your streaming schedule from twice weekly to three times a week, with you occasionally hopping onto Wonwoo’s channel even if you aren’t streaming to mod.

When you aren’t glued to your computer, you’re usually at the restaurant, in a cramped kitchen where you do the prep work, often alongside him, your sexy coworker-but-now-boss, Seokjin.

The man you are quietly obsessed with. You can’t think about Kim Seokjin without thinking about all the positions you want him to fuck you in.

Which is also why you’ve been devouring books lately. When you’re home, you throw all your energy into the escapism they provide, especially ones where you can get yourself off to whatever fantasy Seokjin effortlessly slips into.

For every hot mob boss, corrupt CEO, longterm best friend, dragon-rider, fairy, demon, alien, ghost, or hockey playing love interest you can find, Seokjin is sure to fill the role. A hot merman looking for someone to help him grow legs and something else? Seokjin. A Grinch who inherits his family’s Christmas tree farm and discovers how much he loves to ho ho ho? Seokjin. A god who tears apart the underworld to find his lost lover, and then during the reunion fucks her on the throne of Satan while she wears the crown? All Seokjin.

Unfortunately, his transition from co worker to boss has made your fantasies all the more dirty.

It’s been incredibly difficult for you to handle the fact that any flirtation you two previously shared in the months before he was your boss can no longer continue. But it’s also incredibly hot.

Fantasies of him eating you out on the counter have been replaced with the fantasy of him shoving you in the back office and fucking you on the desk while wearing one of those perfect-fitting dress shirts he often parades around in.

And when he rolls up the sleeves to help in the kitchen? Fuck, it’s humiliating how wet you get.

The entire thing is pathetic really. He’s just standing there half the time, lecturing everyone on proper kitchen hygiene and ensuring one of the cooks doesn’t use expired seasonings for his eomma’s secret sauce.

And you’re standing next to him clenching your thighs together because when you’re this close, you can just make out the freshness of his cologne and feel the heat of his body close to yours.

When someone fucks up, he has a tendency to take over, chopping with unmatched precision and self assurance, trying to keep his voice even and usually failing as everything builds in intensity until he’s accidentally speaking at a million miles an hour and lecturing until his face turns red.

If someone were to pass by the shop, they’d probably mistake his shouting for anger, but you’ve come to understand Seokjin is just passionate about things. Usually when he comes down from his tangent, he’s embarrassed and apologizes, and not long after the entire staff is laughing along with him as he cracks a joke at himself for his inability to tone it down.

Which to you makes him even hotter. Seokjin is able to see his faults and work with them, not against them. He holds himself accountable. He’s nothing like the haughty men you’ve gone on brief dinners with after downloading dating apps for the hundredth time while you’re drunk. He’s actually funny, knowing the right way to use humor and tell jokes, never at someone else’s expense, and definitely without being disgustingly crude.

All those clowns you suffered through drinks with always made comments and digs at other women or referenced their cock like they were setting up some goofy scene from porn and you would find it hilarious and endearing.

Seokjin isn’t like that at all. He probably refers to his dick as a penis and would blush to high heavens if he knew how horny you are for him. He’s unwound you, and he has no clue. Maybe if it hadn’t been literal years since you’ve last had sex you could tone it down.

With working all the time and going to school, it’s already been hard to even go on singular dates here and there. And since the prospects were frankly awful, sex is just something that has had to go onto the back burner for a bit, but you seemed to scorch the fucking pan by forgetting to turn the heat off and now you are burning and hungry.

With a final sigh, you put the book down, annoyed that you didn’t have time to finish it today or at least get to a good part where you could insert yourself into the role of the palace servant and Seokjin as the Prince. Based on the reviews, there’s sure to be a hot sex scene coming up involving using a sword in a particular way that has piqued your curiosity.

In a moment of depravity earlier, you’d snaked one hand down the front of your panties to rub a few damp fingers around your clit to take the edge off.

You check the time on your phone, already aware that you don’t have time to cum before streaming. You already hit the snooze button twice. The spicy stuff will have to wait.

Defeated, you stand up, turning on the lights in your apartment as the sun finally fades away and the dark creeps in. You eat a bowl of cereal while doing your makeup, what little of it you want to put on. Finally, you fire up your PC, trying to ignore the irritation you’re already experiencing from being so high strung and unsatisfied.

The second this stream is over, you’re going to make sure you cum until you pass out. Until then, it’s time for work.

“At what point am I supposed to become good at this again?” You ask Seokjin as you attempt (and fail) to julienne carrots.

When you arrived at work at an ungodly hour this morning to prep for the weekend rush, Seokjin had already started the coffee.

Your empty cup now idles next to your scrap pile of too-wide carrot blocks that’ll have to be pulverized by the blender and repurposed in another recipe.

Seokjin chuckles as he buzzes about the kitchen, reaching tenderly around you to grab your mug for a refill.

“That all depends on how much you practice.”

“So should I expect a large carton of carrots to be delivered to my home this evening with the instructions to have them julienned by Monday?” You tease, as you split another carrot down the center, half of it flinging off the prep counter and onto the floor.

Seokjin smirks and bends down. He picks up the carrot and deposits it into the garbage bin. “Two cartons, actually. Given how many carrots we’ve lost already today, I need to make sure at least some of our inventory lands on the customer’s plate and not just into the trash.”

“How considerate of you,” you chide, and put down the knife, reaching out to accept your newly filled coffee mug. Seokjin’s hands are red from the constant washing and chopping of potatoes, which you recently learned he’s allergic to.

As well as garlic, and you’ve already voluntarily peeled and minced that for the day. That much you can do without guidance, but anything besides your imprecise chopping is on the list of knife skills Seokjin wants you to improve upon.

This is fair, given how dangerous your previous cutting methods have been. Once Seokjin saw the way you tried to stab at a watermelon, it was over. Now you often come in an hour and a half early before each shift to practice.

And to also be alone with Seokjin before he is forced from the kitchen to deal with other duties.

“Thank you,” you say, as you take the first warm sip and shiver. It’s freezing outside, and it’s only supposed to get worse.

There’s snow forecasted for the weekend, which could mean one of two things: everyone stays home and avoids driving, or they all leave the house in one show of silent agreement and fill every nook and cranny of the restaurant to order bowls of sundubu jjigae or crisp and hot pajeon.

Seokjin predicts that because a warm front is moving in afterward, people will utilize one of the only days of snow you’ll likely get this winter to gather together.

Valentine’s Day is soon, and the city has started to prepare. Storefronts have begun switching out new year sale signs for pink and red heart motifs, with spas and restaurants offering couple specials. The perfumeries have moved from campaigns advertising the perfect Christmas gift to ones of sexy, decadent colognes sure to transform a man into his inner beast.

And then there’s the chocolate. It’s like the air in the neighborhood the restaurant resides in smells different, less greasy and grimy and more sweet. Everywhere you turn there’s pastries, cakes, bonbons, crepes, chocolate dipped nuts and other confections that just looking at makes your teeth sore.

With the district washing itself in a pink glow, more and more couples have been braving the cold, landing in the restaurant after weighing themselves down with shopping bags.

You’ve seen what’s in them, often tripping over or kicking at least one bag each shift while you attempt to bring an order to the table and spilling the contents. This year seems to be popular for matching couple outfits. You’ve seen a lot of pairs in their early twenties wearing or recently acquiring sweaters that have the same characters or color combinations. With the temperatures dipping into a bitter chill this week, some have elected to wear cute but inconvenient sets of mittens that allow them to hold hands as they stroll.

When it snows in the city, the world gets quieter, cleaner. Even if people shuffle around in the bustle of novelty experiences, how they show their love, from brushing the snow off each other’s coats or taking kissing selfies in front of snow fallen trees, it always makes you feel a little softer, a little more at peace.

Snow is really romantic.

“What?” Seokjin asks, which alerts you to the fact that you’ve been staring at him as you let your thoughts run, a dopey grin splattered across your face.

“Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about how much I love the snow.” You break eye contact, feeling the heat of embarrassment flood your cheeks.

“Ah, yeah. It’s supposed to start soon,” he looks at you thoughtfully before looking back down at the tofu blocks he’s draining.

A silence falls on you, the once normal pause now becoming a bit awkward.

“What do–”

“I just–”

You both stumble over each other, trying to fill the unnatural pause you’ve reached, which has you laughing and Seokjin cracking a wide grin.

“What were you going to say?” he asks, and then motions for you to get back to your carrot desecrating.

“Ah nothing. You were going to ask something?”

You slice a carrot, this time less match stick and more shaved. Damn.

“Oh, um. I was going to ask you what you like about the snow. That thought kind of came from nowhere and I was trying to follow.” His voice is careful, as if he’s trying not to offend you. Is he nervous?

Your mouth draws into a thin line. Can you risk saying what you were just thinking? Is it inappropriate to talk about romance in front of your boss, who you’ve thought about kissing in the snow at least three times a day? You don’t want to make him uncomfortable. You’re aware of the ways in which Seokjin’s new position of authority weighs on him.

While he’s always had more authority due to being the owners’ son, it isn’t like Seokjin walked around the place with a power complex before his promotion. You two had become something akin to friends in the months you’ve worked together, falling into occasional flirty banter as you shuffled around each other to mop floors or wash dishes.

You know he used to work for a large company a few years ago but quit to help his family with their restaurant. You also know he loves MapleStory and is always showing you his newest splurge from their online shop or the latest piece to his collection.

He doesn’t have any pets, but sometimes debates getting a dog and then when shown support, he dismisses it with boisterous laughter, talking about how he doesn’t have the time and if he ever wants to get a dog, he will have to buy a house. Usually once he lands on discussions of a house, he gets a little more quiet, perhaps a bit sad.

He has an older brother who has one child and another on the way, a major reason for his parents’ decision to travel now, before the new baby arrives. His brother and brother’s wife have visited a few times while you were working, but Seokjin’s mother had mentioned that her son and his wife recently moved into a new house outside of the city, and with the new addition joining sometime in the spring, it can be a bit exhausting to pack up the car for a few hours of visiting time.

While you haven’t experienced Seokjin as an uncle, you know how much he loves being one, excusing himself from the front of the shop to Facetime with his nephew from the back office, where you can hear his voice carry with high pitched impressions and jokes or random songs he babbles to the youngest Kim.

Knowing him in this way feels a bit awkward now that he’s the one signing your paychecks. Since his transition, he’s been a bit more formal with you, you assume trying to be respectful and professional.

You understand where he’s coming from, but you miss the past connection you two had formed. And that seems to dictate your response.

“I like how romantic snow is. How it not only makes the lights twinkle more, but how people do cute things in it. Snowball fights, drinking hot chocolate, building snowmen. They change their behaviors for the snow. To celebrate love in it. Last time it snowed here, I saw one girl push her boyfriend into a snowbank.”

Seokjin laughs as he begins popping the tofu blocks into containers. “That sounds awful,” he says.

Your heart plummets. “Oh,” you squeak.

His head darts up to catch your expression and his eyes flash. “Oh, no no! Not like that. I mean, being pushed into the snowbank. That poor guy was probably soaking wet and freezing after that!” He waves his knife in his hand wildly with his gesture and then quickly deposits it into a sheath before stepping over to your workstation. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”

You recover. “Oh he was. He also got his revenge by pulling her in with him. And she wasn’t even wearing a coat.”

You watch Seokjin’s tense shoulders relax. His broad frame is so close now, towering over you. He smells a little like the earthy starch of potatoes, but you like it.

“I, uh,” he says, his voice becoming more raw. “I like the snow too. You’re right, it is romantic in a way. The snowflakes getting caught in your hair, you huddle closer to someone to share body heat, it’s nice.”

As if on cue, your bodies inch a little closer to each other. Seokjin reaches his arm forward, brushing along yours as he grasps one edge of the workstation to lean in.

“Yeah,” you reply lamely.

You blink up at him and he smiles back. You both sit there for a moment, neither of you moving, just studying the other’s expression.

Then, he leans in.

Your breath catches, and his other arm lifts up above you on the other side, caging you to the workstation.

Your eyes close from the intensity. He’s so close that you feel the fabric of his rolled shirt sleeve graze against your cheek.

All it would take is him leaning in and searing his lips onto yours and you would fold for him. You know this.

This is what you often fantasize about, the two of you in this position. That’s the power he has over you, his smooth seduction, your willingness.

If he asked you right now, you would strip down and bend over this workstation, let him fuck you with your nipples brushing against the cold steel of the counter, carrot shavings squishing against your face as he impales you with his cock.

It would be so easy, he just needs to ask you.

“Y/N,” he says, a bit more distant now, but you shudder at how roughly he says your name.

“Mm?” you hum, forcing your eyes to reopen. Seokjin has pulled away from you. How long has he been just looking at you standing here with your eyes closed?

“Turn around,” he says.

Wait, what?

You stare back at him blankly. Is he reading your mind?

Seokjin rolls his eyes and laughs, holding up the package of dried seaweed that was above you on the shelf. He tosses it on the counter behind him.

“Are you still here or did I lose you? I said turn around.” You freeze, confused.

He did all that to reach above you for some seaweed? Is he fucking with you? And what does he want you to turn around for?

“Wha–”

You open your mouth to ask but Seokjin moves in, his hands on your wrists as he takes you and spins you around so you’re up against your workstation, his stomach resting on your back as you stand sandwiched against him and the cold counter. You clench your thighs, suddenly aware that you are wet.

Fuck.

“You need to focus,” he says low in your ear. You take a shaky breath.

Focus. How are you supposed to focus when you imagined this exact scenario exactly one minute ago?

“I, what?” Your words fail you as you stand there, stunned and aroused but also completely confused about what he wants from you. This entire situation is a mindfuck.

Seokjin’s hands leave your wrists and make their way to your hands as he moves you like a puppet.

“Y/N, were you even paying attention? We just went over this. God, I swear, I’ve told you. You need to be present in the kitchen space. You’re lucky I resheathed the knife for you while you were on another planet. You could have easily gotten hurt.” Seokjin scolds you overhead.

Oh. You look to the right and see the kitchen knife you were using back in its protective shell and not where you left it, which, come to think of it, was incredibly close to where your hands were now on the counter under Seokjin’s. Yikes.

“Sorry,” you mutter, feeling a prick of shame seeping through the fog. Seokjin isn’t trying to fuck you against the counter; he’s trying to make sure you don’t cut your finger off.

He tuts above you, his grip still firm as he directs you to the uncut carrots and chopping board.

“Tsk, honestly. You’re ridiculous. What am I going to do if my best girl is hospitalized after losing her hand because she’s too busy daydreaming about snow storms instead of having basic kitchen awareness? You know, I could send you home over this. Make you unable to come back until you rewatch those kitchen safety videos with the fake blood and awful actors. Seriously.”

You shiver at his words. He’s so busy setting up for a rant, you almost miss it.

“Your best girl?” You ask lightly.

Seokjin stills, your joined hands hovering over the cutting board. “Oh, uh. You know what I mean. You’re the best….girl we have on staff. You know.”

You don’t. You’re far from the best girl on staff. Seha has a degree in culinary arts. She’s usually the one who has everything prepped days ahead with perfectly formed cuts. She manages the kitchen cleanliness with rigidness. She even barks orders at Seokjin when he’s in the kitchen because he isn’t as clean as her.

If she wasn’t out with the flu, none of this work would even need to be done. Maybe Seokjin is getting sick too. He’s been feverish looking and a little uneasy around you all morning, and clearly he’s now being delusional.

“Ah,” you concede, and give your hands a shake to urge him to continue.

“Right, anyway. You’re getting better at your cuts, but I’m losing money quickly with all your sacrifices to the floor goblins. And we don’t have much time left before the others start coming in, so let’s finish this up.”

You let Seokjin guide you, literally hand-over-hand, as he restructures your positioning on the knife and angle of the blade to slice through the carrots a lot more cleanly and easily.

“That’s it, good. You’re doing such a good job,” he breathes.

You feel his exhale along your spine. God, you’re a pervert. He’s just trying to help you better yourself, and all you’re thinking about is how dominating he seems right now and how much you want to please him.

God, if he calls you a good girl you know you’re going to moan audibly. That’s how bad he’s got you.

You keep working, and once you get the hang of it, Seokjin’s grip loosens, allowing you to finish the bag by yourself. But his hands are still on yours, even if you’re the one in control.

After a while though, it’s becoming too much to handle. Him bent over you like this is limiting your range of motion, making it hard to wipe the sweat on your hands or move your scrap pile further down the counter.

He’s also a human furnace, the space between you still so limited that you’ve begun sweating under him.

In one particular cut of carrot, the sweat caused by the joint heat of your hands causes you to lose your grip, shooting it down onto the floor.

Reflexively, you reach down to grab it, but with Seokjin still attached to you, it proves to be an immediate disaster.

You throw your body into a bend, which forces you back, your ass grinding directly into Seokjin and being met with something very large.

You gasp and Seokjin grunts, swiftly releasing your hands, which are actually balancing you in your bend.

You fall forward, smacking your head into the edge of the counter as you go down.

The kitchen echoes with an embarrassing clang as your forehead ricochets off the metal.

“Fuck,” you groan, a sharp pain shooting through you..

You scramble to recover, one hand going to your head as you steady yourself, rubbing the soreness. Seokjin flails above you, panicked.

“Oh shit! Y/N I’m so sorry! Oh my god. Are you okay? I shouldn’t have let go, I just was–” Seokjin rambles as you stare up at him, trying to get him to steel himself.

“No, fuck, ouch, it’s okay! I’m okay. Seokjin, can you please just get me some ice and help me up?” You aren’t sure you can get yourself up as your vision swirls from the heat of the pain. You really went down hard.

Seokjin ceases his flailing and shouting, leaning down and picking your body up off the floor with impressive strength and carrying you to a clean workstation in the center of the room. He sits you on top of it, making you now almost his height.

Holy shit.

Once sure you’re not at risk of flopping over, he walks over to the ice maker with a clean kitchen cloth and folds some ice cubes inside.

You reach for the cloth, but he refuses to hand it over.

“Yah! No. Please let me do this, I can see the bump forming already. I’m the one who caused your injury.” He gingerly lays the cold cloth against your head. You wince.

“‘Snot your fault,” you pout, trying to ignore the pain. “It was an accident. No one caused it.”

Seokjin sighs and places his free hand behind your head, discouraging you from angling away like you’ve subconsciously been doing.

“It is my fault. I let go of you. After just lecturing you about kitchen safety. God, what kind of example am I setting? I’m really sucking at this boss thing.”

You reach up, placing your hand on Seokjin’s wrist to remove it from the ice. But he doesn’t relent. You keep your hold.

“Seokjin, you’re not a bad boss. God you’re literally the opposite. Everyone here loves you. You’ve only been the manager for a little while. Give yourself some time. And keep in mind both of your parents ran this place, and now it’s down to just you.”

You feel the tendons under his wrist adjust, his grip a little looser. Seokjin’s wrists are soft and tan, a thin coating of hair trailing up his forearms and under his sleeve. Your grip loosens too, and you let your thumb brush back and forth through the hair.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t supposed to be the manager. My brother was supposed to manage the restaurant when my parents were ready to retire. That was always the plan, anyway. But things change. When they were getting their apartment ready for my nephew to arrive, I think they realized how tight space can be living in the city. We grew up in an apartment complex not too far from here and it always felt like we were on top of each other.

“Which, we kind of were. My brother and I shared this tiny room that had bunk beds, and we lived that way until he went away to college. I used to always smack my head against the ceiling when I was a teenager and woke up in the middle of the night. My forehead would get huge bruises on it, probably a lot like the one you’re going to have on your head.” He frowns.

“I guess my brother didn’t want to see his kids living like that either. I never minded it so much, but maybe that’s because I was the younger one. Not having any privacy during puberty or dealing with me during puberty was probably a nightmare for him.”

You shoot him a sympathetic smile. “It was nice of you to take over on his behalf then. I know you used to work for major companies in the business district downtown. This must have felt like a sacrifice.”

Seokjin’s arm falls away from your head, your soft caress pulling away with it. He sets the cloth down next to you. He worries his bottom lip into his mouth and then shakes his head.

“No, it was never like that. I’m sure eomma filled everyone and their brother’s ears with stuff about me. ‘Seokjin is our business minded son! He’ll make a great leader!’ ‘Seokjin is talented in the kitchen and spent his whole life working for us. We trained him well!’ ‘Don’t worry about him abusing his power. He knows exactly how it is for everyone!’” Seokjin’s says, his voice inotating the same pattern of his mother.

“Well, she wasn’t wrong. You are all those things,” you argue, lacing your fingers in his. You know it’s not necessarily appropriate behavior between a boss and his employee, but at this moment, you’d argue Seokjin needs a friend more than anything.

“I’m not, though, Y/N. I didn’t sacrifice anything to do this. It wasn’t some great act of loyalty where the son with a promising future gives up his dream for his family business. In fact I had to beg my parents to let me work here! Because I, their failure of a son, lost everything and had nowhere else to go! And the shit I ended up doing to even keep myself afloat…I’m not a great leader. I’m nothing more than a fraud.”

Seokjin rakes his free hand through his hair.

“I had a good life before this Y/N. A good job, a nice house, a fi-...just..I was living a dream that I no longer have for myself is all. But at the time I was on top of the world and now I feel like such a fucking failure.”

Seokjin looks like he’s falling apart, eyes darting madly as he shifts around, suddenly transforming into nothing like his usual cool, goofy self.

You need to stop this from getting worse. To distract him and stop him from talking himself into a pit of despair. If Seokjin’s mouth is occupied somehow, he can’t continue with all the negative self-talk.

A stupid idea flashes in your head. You don’t even think before you roll with it.

“Jesus, I can’t even manage properly. I messed up Mino’s paycheck a few weeks ago and I’m still not sure how it happened. I’m just not–”

Your lips connect with Seokjin’s, your legs wrapping around his waist to tug him closer as you move your body against his. Seokjin returns the kiss in earnest, parting his mouth to welcome your tongue as you lap the words out of his mouth.

His plush lips feel so soft against yours, his taste a bit bitter from the coffee you both drank earlier, but you find yourself craving more of it, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth with the hope that maybe you can absorb it.

Seokjin groans in response, gripping your hand tighter, his other settling on your lower back as he pulls you closer. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear every atom in your body is vibrating at a higher frequency from his touch. You want to feel him everywhere.

You break the kiss, and see Seokjin’s eyelids are heavy, almost like he’s drunk. You’re about to move back in, to tongue along his sweaty, long neck, suck on his protruding Adam’s apple.

That’s when you hear it. The slam of the back door as your coworkers arrive.

Seokjin jolts back, breaking the hold you have around his waist with your legs.

His mouth looks a little red and swollen. And his eyes are wide, panic flashing across his face.

“I–I’m sorry!”

Before you can reassure him, tell him that you’re the one who should be sorry, you started this, who crossed this line between boss and employee by kissing him, Seokjin bolts from the kitchen.

You sit for a minute, stunned, and then look around, taking in the scene around you. The carrot shavings all over the counter, the discarded one still on the floor. Your knife is unsheathed again. There’s containers of tofu and seaweed just abandoned in a pile next to a large pot.

And you can feel the puddle forming under you from where the ice has begun to melt. What the fuck just happened? What mess did you just get yourself into?

The rest of your shift, you’re anxious. Especially because you’re short-staffed due to the weather forecast, which has led to three call-outs from people who commute from across town. That means you’re performing multiple roles: taking orders, bussing tables, seating customers, and getting appetizers, drinks, and side dishes ready for each group of people coming through the door.

Seokjin was right in his prediction; you guys are slammed. And because there’s less staff, that means Seokjin is orbiting around you, following behind with cleaning rags as you finish bussing or running into you in the narrow doorway as you both attempt to fetch an order from the kitchen. You’re both flushed and sweating, the hairs on the back of your neck now matted down.

Your mind is swirling around that kiss and its consequences, but you don’t have time to lose focus; the minute you finish one thing, you’re pulled into another task for a temporary distraction.

Only to be thrust back into the reminder of this morning when Seokjin lightly caresses the small of your back as he squeezes behind you to grab more plates.

If either of you ever need a break, you don’t say so, only pausing in between rushes to pee, take a bite of something, and chug water before you’re thrown back out into the mess.

Finally, after you elect to work a double, it’s closing time.

“Y/N!” Seokjin calls you from the front as you scrub the grime off a stack of dirty dishes.

Your pulse quickens. You’re the last one here. The storm kicked up an hour ago, and since you live the closest, you shoved your coworkers out the door so they could get home before the roads were a mess.

You dry your hands on your messy apron, pulling out your phone and wincing at the slew of missed calls, texts and notifications. You were supposed to stream again tonight with a bunch of other girl gamers as a part of a “Galentine's Day” collab, playing dating simulation games as a warm up before jumping into some first person shooters.

You’d reached out to cancel once you saw the stress tugging at Seokjin’s face, his jaw set, his brow constantly furrowed. While the other streamers were completely understanding, you still have a ton of notifications from your social channels asking if you are okay and some texts from Wonwoo and a few other friends asking the same.

You’ll fill them in later. But now, you have to face Seokjin.

He’s sitting at a freshly wiped-down table, counting the drawers and preparing the deposit slip.

He ushers you over and gestures at the stack of cash, silently asking you to verify his numbers. You comply, the room silent less the shuffling of bills or coins under your fingertips and your habitual mouthing of the numbers to ensure you don’t lose count.

He nods at your final calculation, jotting the number down on the sheet and placing the bills together. You turn and begin to head back to the kitchen.

“Wait,” he says, and you freeze.

Your stomach is quickly turning into a bundle of knots. You suck your lips into your mouth as you spin back around, Seokjin’s eyes meeting yours.

“I…” Seokjin takes a deep breath before continuing. “Listen. I’m really sorry about this morning. Today’s just been a whole mess and I really shouldn’t have been airing my frustrations to an employee like that. It was inappropriate and immature. I know better than to behave this way.”

Did you say your stomach was in knots? You mean it’s filled with heavy, sickening lead. “Oh, right. Uh, don’t. I mean, I started it. I just…you were panicking and I didn’t know what to do and I thought maybe this would help.”

Seokjin’s brow furrows, a frown on his face. “Why are you apologizing when I’m clearly the one in the wrong here? Ah, no let me finish! I’ve always prided myself on my professionalism and ability to keep personal matters out of my work. And I failed in doing so, which takes advantage of you since I’m your superior. You not only felt a need to comfort me but also stop me from spinning out. I’m truly sorry Y/N, about the oversharing and the um, kiss. I definitely gave into my emotions in a moment of weakness. Please forgive me, I promise I will never touch you again. This won’t happen again.”

His head droops and he looks down, clearly ashamed.

Oh. So he doesn’t want this. Which, why would he? He’s right in that he’s your boss, and clearly Seokjin values his reputation and his job because they’re a reflection of not just him, but his family. Why risk that with someone like you?

You swallow the lump in your throat along with any response. There is the boundary, you know better than to cross it.

As you move again, Seokjin rises from the table. “Y/N…you know what? You go home. The storm is really coming down.”

“But, there’s still mopping and all those dishes left,” you croak. Your voice is so hoarse from being dehydrated and talking all day that you barely recognize it as your own.

“Don’t worry about those. You look and sound exhausted. It’s not your job to take care of everything. Go home, enjoy your romantic snowy trek,” he smirks, “and get some much needed rest. You’ve more than earned it.”

When you arrive home, your body slugs onto your bed, finally giving into the fatigue you’ve ignored all day. Your feet ache, your stomach now settled enough from your walk that you are starving. And you smell awful.

As much as you want to fall asleep, you know that you at the very least need to eat something.

With a groan, you rise, hobbling to your kitchen to make some instant ramyeon. The collab stream is now over, you learned this while finally checking your phone on your way home and seeing a thank you message blasted out by one of the streamers. Oh well.

You suppose you could get back to your book, see what Prince August and his lover are getting up to in their reunion, but that seems like more brain power than you’re willing to give.

You elect to eat, then take a shower, rinsing the grime of the day off you. When you step out of the shower, you see an ugly looking bump and purple bruise on your forehead.

That’s right, you’d already forgotten about your injury from earlier. You touch it lightly and recoil from the sharp pain. Damn, maybe you should’ve checked to see if you were concussed earlier. You didn’t realize you hit your head that hard.

You decide to ice it before bed, crawling under your covers and trying to rest while you play back your day.

How you started is so significantly different from where you are now. When you woke up, you were eager and excited to be around Seokjin, to learn new skills and feel light and warm in his presence. Now, the idea of going back to work in a few days, to have to muddle through the rejection you got tonight and try to get back to a baseline makes you feel nauseous.

Seokjin wants to make this all water under the bridge, and you want to do that for him. But it’s nearly impossible when he’s, well, him. He doesn’t understand how much more difficult it’s going to be to look at him because you’re not walking around with a face like that: perfectly balanced and delicate features and a full, delicious set of lips.

God, he really did taste fantastic. You wonder what would’ve happened if you two weren’t interrupted. Would giving into his emotional need for comfort have given you more? You know it’s wrong to think about, because you're the one who took advantage of him, not the other way around.

He can say he took advantage of you with his power imbalance or whatever, but you’re the one who was seconds away from licking down that thick neck or grinding back onto that massive cock.

Fuck, that’s right, Seokjin is huge under all those clothes and your ass got to experience rubbing against it today. And maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but he seemed like he was a little hard.

If Mino and the others had been just a little later, you might have seen it. They might have walked in on you on your knees as you choked on it, Seokjin’s moans and whines echoing in the kitchen.

Because now from kissing him, you got a taste of those little noises he makes. And the memory has you becoming slick and needy.

It’s late. Too late to read your smutty book, especially since you’re not at the next smutty scene yet. August and his beloved are just reuniting. You’re sure it’s bound to be good, but you don’t have that kind of patience right now. You need to cum, to get your ideas about Seokjin and what he firmly set as a boundary out of your head once and for all.

Which means you need to give your fantasy of him out of your head too. You shove the ice pack you’ve been holding to your head aside, ready to relieve some tension.

You reach under your shirt and gasp when the chill of your icy hand plucks at one of your nipples. Yes, you need more of this.

You touch the other one with your other hand, disappointed that it’s warm. And then you get a fantastic idea. You grope around for a moment until you feel the cold cloth housing the ice cubes from your freezer and pluck one out. It melts quickly in your hand, but the cold water is stimulating as you feel it run down your forearms, a droplet or two rushing down and reaching the heat of your armpit. You pull the large shirt you use as pajamas up further with your other hand, fully exposing your chest and stomach to the chilly air of your apartment.

The ice cube drips over your navel. You hiss as the new sensation floods your core with warmth. Some of the water pools in your belly button, a satisfying dampness taking over your body. Then, you drip the melting ice cube onto each nipple and relish how erect and sensitive they’ve become from your arousal.

Your breasts are plush, something you love to grab and tug as you play with yourself. They’re heavy, the weight of gravity tugging them down instead of staying up as porn once made you believe was possible.

You can understand why people sometimes get caught up playing with tits all the time. They’re arguably fun to play with.

As the ice cube warms and shrinks, you become more curious, taking it between your fingers and swirling it directly over each nipple, a shock of cold hitting them and your hips bucking in pleasure. More. Whatever you’re feeling right now, you need more of it.

You rip your sleep shorts and panties off in desperation, splaying your legs open and aiming yourself up so the last drips of the ice cube can fall directly onto the folds of your pussy, a few dribbles landing right on your aching clit.

Heat, that’s what you actually feel. Fire and ice swirling together in a decadent and hot pleasure. You reach over and grab another cube, this time skipping the teasing and touching the ice right to your clit. It’s a lot. Too much. Not enough. The pain shooting through your clit is also full of so much pleasure and you don’t want to stop.

You rock against your hand, rubbing your clit with your fingers as the ice melts, mixing the wetness of the water with your own, getting you messier, hotter, hungrier.

The memory of Seokjin holding the ice pack flits through your head, how cold his one hand was as it held yours, similar to the chill of your own hand as you grind it against your pussy. You need something inside of you. Now.

And unfortunately for you, all your toys are currently dirty. When you finished streaming last night, you made good on your promise to fuck yourself until you passed out, which means your collection of dildos and vibrators are now discarded in a pile next to your bed that you’d intended to wash after work today.

You insert a finger and sigh. It’s not enough. The angle is too awkward and you can’t get far enough in. Seokjin’s hands are much larger than yours, capable of pumping his long fingers deep within you, to get to the part of your core that is aching. If he were here right now, he could be itching that scratch, a smug look on his face as he comments on how soaking wet you are for him and commands you to cum.

Ugh. You said you wouldn’t think of him, yet here he is again, stirring up inside your fantasies. You can’t give in, you need to distract yourself, look at another face so you can feel motivation.

You remove your fingers, wipe them on the damp washcloth next to you, and reach over on your side table for your laptop.

You don’t watch a lot of porn, finding the videos often too fake, but you’re desperate. You scroll through the website, quickly losing some of your arousal as you click through pages of straight porn, the ones you know that will have some awful plot, or the woman has some nasal and fake moan that kills your buzz. Or the guys are so ugly, proving that porn always has the male gaze in mind.

You just need to cum. Today has been awful enough, and knowing you have to stream tomorrow again is already causing you to wind up. No, this is necessary stress relief. An unwinding. Make it dirty and to the point.

You click over into the other categories. You need just a man, someone else who isn’t Seokjin. You hover over the male masturbation tag, still disappointed. Then you see a banner ad for a camming site: Worldwide Handsome, Hunks From Around the Globe. That, you think, seems more promising.

Live cams are interactive, more with immediacy. Usually the guys on them are hot or gay or both and just ready to jack off for money and give in to some dirty talk. Even the gay camboys don’t always care if women are viewing. Money is money.

You click the banner, praying this doesn’t immediately give your computer a hundred viruses that will delete all your coursework you’ve saved to the harddrive.

Luckily, it’s a legitimate website, much like OnlyFans, just with the emphasis on queer men from every country. You might just be saved.

There are so many categories to choose from: couples, kinks, trans, bisexual, furries, just chatting, BDSM, interactive games, private rooms. It’s a little overwhelming. You select the “solo” tab, which, of course, has the most videos under it, and begin exploring.

You click on one that seems promising, but quickly exit out because the user has fallen asleep and it feels too intimate.

In another, the streamer is yelling at his chat for outting him to his parents, and you exit out of that as well.

You’re about to give up when you refresh the page, but then a recently started stream catches your eye. It’s quickly gaining views, and has a little “1” next to it, probably to indicate that this streamer is the most popular one in his category.

The title for the stream is Unwind with me. Late night play with Daddy which makes your core throb a little with promise. The thumbnail is black, which is a little odd, but you’re curious who this “Daddy” is and how he plans on helping his viewers unwind. Because that is exactly what you need. In his associated tags, there’s a tiny banner at the bottom that urges you forward “all genders welcome”.

You click the link, and the video itself is black, but there’s still hundreds of comments fluttering through the chat. Is your stream broken? This sometimes happens when you stream too, but after a quick refresh you realize that the screen isn’t black. There’s a little bit of light pouring through whatever is covering the camera, detecting some movement through the veil.

“You don’t know how stressed I am today,” a low voice groans.

Whoa. You lean closer, tapping the volume button on your laptop to the max and leaning back. God, whoever this guy is, he sounds hot. This might actually work to get you off and get over Seokjin.

You balance your laptop on your knees and roll your hand down your stomach and between your legs, finding your aching clit and sighing as you delight in your touch.

“I know we don’t always play games like this baby. I know you usually like it when I beg. But I can’t play like that today. It’s been so long since I got to fall back into what I desperately, absolutely need.”

His voice is so seductive yet also comforting in a way that’s familiar. You feel more of your arousal dripping out of you, and you scoop it up to swirl it around your clit, feeling a little twinge of that white hot pleasure return to you.

“And what I need is to take the edge off, to remind all of you who is in charge. Some of you have been very, very bad lately. Haven’t I given you enough? A two-year anniversary stream? I gave you all my cum didn’t I? All of it.”

The chat is going nuts, comments replying with “yes Daddy” accompanying tips that vary from twenty bucks to one thousand dollars spilling in. You check his timestamp. He’s only been live for five minutes and he’s already getting this much? Even your most successful streams take hours to reach a little over a thousand after royalty cuts.

To his credit, though, if you had a grand to drop on him, you just might, and that’s going by his sexy voice alone.

“I let you watch me spill from my cock, let you see me touch myself. And you were greedy. Don’t think I don’t know what you did. I saw your questioning comments, trying to shame me for muttering someone’s name in pleasure. But I’m not ashamed. I’m proud.”

Fuck, what you would do to have this guy moan your name. You feel your orgasm approaching and rub yourself harder, a soft squelch echoing through your room.

“You took what I gave you for granted, you fucking whores. And now, you need to be punished.”

You’re so close, the little peaks of pleasure starting to build up higher in intensity.

The mystery man stops talking, and you along with the chat, begging for more.

“Please,” you moan at your screen.

Suddenly, you hear it, a wet, slick sound. Fuck, is he touching himself?

“It’s been a long day. All day, I was working and I was so horny because some people in this world can’t stop fucking teasing me, tempting me to punish them, just like you.”

You feel the tremor of your first orgasm, but it’s not as sharp, more like a hint of what is to come. You pinch your clit between your fingers, sighing a little bit at the relief of pressure.

“You’ve all been very bad. And until you show me you can be good, I’m going to pump my cock and not let any of you see. You think you can do that? You think you can be my good little subs and prove to me you’ll behave?”

Oh god. Fuck. He’s insane, he’s so hot and insane, and you’re also insane, nodding along. The condescension is so hot, and it reminds you of earlier in the kitchen, when Seokjin scolded you for not being safe with the knife. His voice got rough just like this guy. And it makes you feel so needy and desperate.

Please, you beg silently, just like how you did this morning. I’ll do anything.

Almost as if he knows this, you hear a moan carry through your speakers. You assume he’s reading the comments and tips with promises to behave. You clench around nothing, really wishing at least one of your toys was clean for you to use to feel less empty. You’re never falling asleep without washing them again.

“Good, that’s what I like to see. Now remember, you don’t get to cum until I get to cum. Go ahead and play with yourself for me, get yourself all worked up. And then be good and listen. I’ll tell you what to do next.”

Whoops. Well, the first one didn’t count. You aren’t satisfied.

He groans, signaling that he’s stroking himself again, rough jerks you can hear from the way his hands are sliding over his (you assume) lubed cock.

“You want to see me cum? You want to earn it all over you? You know what you have to do, my pretty little subs. Work for it. And not a penny less.”

In a frenzy, the tip jar continues to buzz in the bottom corner, the graphic of coins depositing into it glitching out a bit as it fails to keep up with the volume of tips. While he’s the most popular streamer on this site, it’s not as though the website is the only one of its kind, and that means that his couple hundred viewers are putting in the work and the cash.

You watch the numbers rise next to the tip jar as his subs showcase their double entendre: both his subscriber count soars and his comments flood with loyal submissives.

Please, Daddy. Please let me cum.

I’m sorry Daddy. I’ll be good, I swear.

Remove the blindfold please! I need to see your big cock!

Ah, it’s a blindfold. Of course.

The graphic of the jar changes, exploding and sending animated dollars and coins across the screen. This is wild. His viewers have already met the milestone. They’ve just raised ten grand in less than 15 minutes. That has to be some kind of record.

He tuts and the sound of it punches your gut. Why does he sound so familiar? “Tsk, that wasn’t so hard, was it? I knew you could do it. You want my forgiveness that badly, huh? Okay, I’ll give you what you need. I’ll forgive you.”

Your pussy is throbbing. You’ve had to scale back the touching, feeling a weird sense of obedience to this camboy that you can’t describe.

There’s a ruffling sound and the camera jolts before light pours into view, a blur of shapes and colors you can’t make out greeting you until it comes into focus and you’re met with a massive, leaking cock.

“Holy shit,” you moan, finding your footing on your bed and moving your resting hand from your inner thigh back to your clit.

The camera is framed from the user’s toned abs down to just the top of his thighs, showing off his heavy, tight balls and red, angry tip.

“Is this what you’re begging for?”

Yes, you shudder a breath. Yes.

Large hands with long knobby fingers run along his thighs, one sweeping under to cup his balls while the other works his shaft, thumb sliding over his slit to rub precum around the tip.

“Alright, then.” He begins pumping, smooth, tight jerks that have him squeezing his length and encouraging more strands of precum to leak out. He falls into a steady rhythm and you mirror the pace on your clit, gasping for breaths as you become all the more sensitive now that you have a visual to follow.

“My face? Oh, no. You didn’t earn the right to see that. Don’t start with me. If you want to see my face when I cum, you have to reach the next milestone. You know the rules.”

You don’t know the rules, but you hope someone else will be desperate enough to reach it for you. You’re dying to know what he looks like.

Almost instantly, the money animation explodes on the screen again. A $5000 tip. Jesus Christ.

“Ah, of course mapl3stor33, I should’ve known it was you. Always so good to me. Because of you I got to get that new collector figurine. Thank you. Well everyone, because of mapl3’s generosity and mmm…loyalty…fuck. I guess I’ll let you get your full fantasy. Let you see my face as you imagine you get to make a mess of me, milk my fucking cock all over you and let me make a mess of you.” He’s moaning as he speaks, pausing between sentences to pump himself harder as he gives “Maple” a proper shout out.

Your cheeks heat in embarrassment. It’s one thing for you to create the fantasy, but him acknowledging it with some judgment, as though you’re not good enough to even fantasize about him, it’s leading you quicker to your undoing.

His pace builds to a heavy, slick rut. His hands are slightly red, almost like how yours looked after washing the dishes before Seokjin kicked you out.

Wait. Red hands. His look similar to Seokjin’s, with the same knobby long fingers. And the figurine and Maple…like, MapleStory?

There’s no way. No, you’re clearly just losing it with your fantasies. This one is taking it too far.

“Fuck, yeah that’s it baby. Touch yourself. Be good for me. Where do you want my cum? Oh, you dirty slut, fuck, yes. Okay, I’ll cum all over myself. Just for you. Shit. Almost, come on.”

Your fingers are still following his lead, unable to stop, so close to finishing, to the release.

He moans, his hands blurring as he strokes fast and hard, jerking into himself. And that’s when you know. You heard that moan. You caused that moan.

With a final solid, slightly whiny grunt, he backs up. His face coming into frame, and the first strands of thick white release cascades across Seokjin’s chest as you focus in on the pure bliss washing over him, his head thrown back and mouth shaped into a delicious “o”.

“Oh, fuck. Take it, take my cum. Yes, that’s it. That’s my best girl, so good for me. Such a good girl.”

The second you hear the praising fall from Seokjin’s mouth, he takes you over the edge with him. Your body rockets into your orgasm with a heavy clench of your core, feet losing their solid hold below you as you begin to shake and succumb to the feeling.

You’ve unwound, the tension of your body unfurling as you’re cast out to sea, your body bobbing along each wave with a newfound euphoria. Out here on the water, the world is silent except the ring in your ears. You bask in the peaceful ebb until you feel a tingling in your fingertips and toes calling you back, forcing breath back into your lungs with a heavy pant.

Once you recenter, you gaze back at the stream, confirming that this is the smiling and grateful Seokjin you just saw three hours ago.

He called you a good girl. He came all over his sweaty chest. And he’s the top streamer on a gay sex cam site.

#seokjin smut #bts smut #jin smut #ksj #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #kim seokjin

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euphoricfilter · 1 year

Text

like crazy ~ part one

☆ﾟpart one of four

pairing(s): namjoon x reader, seokjin x reader, yoongi x reader, hoseok x reader, jimin x reader, taehyung x reader, jungkook x reader

genre: fluff || smut || angst || non-idol au || reincarnation au || strangers to lovers || established relationships || regency era au || gang au ||

summary: the story of why you loved to dance in the rain.

word count: 14k

tags/ warnings: duke! taehyung, jimin, fluff, so much love, angst, death(s)/implied murder, mentions of blood, mentioned suicide, mentioned puking, friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, smut in the forms of: implied loss of virginity, unprotected sex (don't be stupid, this is fiction), oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, cum play, talks of pregnancy and babies

notes: this mini series is very loosely inspired by an au idea i wrote a while back about an immortal m/c. i'm going to try and keep updates every other week but i am moving home really soon so if there's any change in the schedule then i'll post about it!! and as always, feedback is always encouraged <3

‘like crazy’ mini series masterlist || my main masterlist

🪐 🌠 ∘₊✧─── *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ───✧₊∘ ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . 💫

“A lot has happened since we last spoke” You look down at the gravestone, moss and mud having found home over unnerving death, “Sorry it took me so long to visit” Maybe it helped that the sun was out, tears that were meant to fall soaked up in golden rays of light that warm your cheeks rather than wet them.

You place a bouquet of red chrysanthemums before the thick slab of stone, closing your eyes briefly. Not a thought in your mind as you revel in the peace of what was once a roaring home.

“Now, where should I begin?”

The day you remembered your first life, it felt as though your world had tilted off its axis. That everything you thought you’d learnt about yourself was nothing more than a singular star in a galaxy that sat in the vast universe. A mere atom in the formula that builds you as a person.

It was like a never-ending spiral. Little pockets of a past life you were never supposed to know, hidden between rouge pieces of space rock and black holes of a different time. Where one misstep had you slipping down a rabbit hole of the unknown with nothing to grab onto. Spiralling down like you were Alice, except you were far from Wonderland.

You weren’t even sure if you were in denial, or if it was all a far-fetched dream crafted by a wild imagination. Perhaps it was something more like guilt, because as much as Jimin was most definitely the love of your life; he was simply the love of this life.

Strange, heart-wrenching emotions had weighed on your shoulders as you remembered a past lover, who had held your heart ever so delicately in soft hands. And you’d held his, cradling it to your chest until your hearts had beaten in unison. Where wild fantasies had painted a forever, that was never going to be forever.

Your skin had crawled as fingertips that no longer exist had danced over your body, and burning lips, kissing you in places that should only be Jimin’s. A touch not that of your lover’s, digging into sacred places, secret places that you had only ever worked up the courage to show Jimin.

The sudden force of having to re-live grief when you yourself should also be dead had sent you into a frenzy. With too many sleepless nights, and too many harsh words sent Jimin’s way as you tried to navigate so many new stimuli at once. This love for another man was like a phantom hand latching onto your heart and squeezing, pulling, and sinking you further down. Sinking down, down, down until a whirlwind of emotions had flushed over you. Joy. Excitement. Sorrow. Heart-ache. Hatred. Love. Too much love. So much more love. A different sort of love you had never felt. Love love love.

There were too many secrets. Secrets you didn’t truly understand, a jumble of words that melt into slush and clog your brain, sparking against neurotransmitters and mingling with more information than you knew what to do with. Secrets that go away when Jimin is stood before you, and you’re reminded of who your heart now belongs to. The world finally silent, and hands stop grabbing you, and you can finally breathe again. It was as if Jimin had become a catalyst for your fraying feelings.

The story of Jimin had bloomed in spring.

When the sky felt as though it were at the tips of your fingers if you were to reach up high enough. And the world smelt of flowers and herbs that sat on window-sills of rundown houses. Where skin was sun-kissed, tender and pink on the back of your neck. And all the evils of the world were taking a nap for the afternoon with the cats that lounged in the shade under trees.

“Excuse me”

You perk up, squinting when the sun hits your eyes.

The memory of your first encounter with Jimin will always be one you find yourself going back to. Vivid enough that when you dream of this day, you’re often tempted to reach out and touch him as if he were really there.

His name on the tip of your tongue, tickling the back of your throat and mind, though nothing comes out as the scene replays itself for the thousandth time.

It’s like a well-practised play, where you pose as the main cast while simultaneously being the audience. (Maybe it was more of a tragedy, a shame when you know how this one ended.) A little jarring that you have no control over your own body, lips moulding around words so many times you could recite the first conversation the both of you had over and over again.

Sickly regret holding you in its palms, because there are so many more things you want to tell Jimin, words that he’ll never get to hear.

It mustn’t have been very long after midday when you’d met. Sweat tickling the back of your neck and untamed grass pocking at your ankles and between bare toes.

The air smelt of burning wood, crackling fire nothing but a whisper in the wind as footsteps crunch over gravel, and children thump into the tall grass and crush delicate flowers under the weight of their tiny bodies.

The dress you were sewing is dropped into your lap in favour of cupping your hands around your eyes to see the face of your visitor. Your cheeks dusting the lightest shade of pink when you finally get a look at his face.

You knew of Jimin, as did most on your estate. The other seamstresses never knew when to close their mouths, always tittering away about everyone and everything that lived in the area. Mindless gossip that you always found yourself turning away from when their giggles would get too loud, or opinions too crude for your liking.

Jimin had become somewhat of an enigma since turning into an adult. Names were thrown around like he weren’t ever to hear them; though you know his mother works in the building next door. Sure to have heard what her friends had been saying about her son behind her back. How much of a shame it is that he has such a nice face but no money. That no woman would ever want to settle for a man with nothing to his name, even if their babies were to be beautiful.

Or how their daughters had wandered into the city and found wealthy bachelors, who bought them dresses lined with thread made of gold, and jewellery that weigh down their necks. Who eat like royals, and prance around well-kept gardens into their husbands’ arms.

Thoughts ever so shallow you never found yourself stooping to their level when they’d nudge you for your opinion. The bitter remark that their children had abandoned them had always clung to your lips, because surely if they cared they would have lifted their parents out of commoner status and housed them in luxury.

The rumours of Jimin’s beauty were true, that much you now knew. Whatever child-like innocence you had left inside of you dubbing him as something akin to a garden fairy; just as you imagined them when you were young.

Not quite dainty, yet not thick muscle, something a little softer around the edges. And with his overgrown hair haloed by the sun as he takes a step to the side, blanketing you in shade, you think he looks like a dream.

“Yes?” your head tilts, gaze flitting to the scarce bouquet that he holds. Tips of his fingers evidence that he’d dug them up himself, wet soil clinging to his skin and boots; just as rough and old as the rest of his clothes. Though really you find you have no place to judge when you, yourself are dressed no better than him.

“These are for you” He thrusts the flowers into your face, entirely too eager as dirt falls into your lap, though you find yourself laughing. Uncaring that your mother’s dress bears the brunt of his enthusiasm.

You clear your throat when he avoids your eyes, “From you?”

And he nods, watching from the corner of his eye as you take them in gentle hands as not to let any of the smaller flowers fall out of place. You lay them delicately over your lap, feeling around the grass for your thread.

You snap it with your teeth, tying the stems of the flowers together so you wouldn’t lose any of them. A pot already in mind that you keep beside your mattress in the bedroom. Dust had collected around the rim, and lime scale clung to the insides, though you think the flowers would look lovely beside you as you slept.

“And–” he rubs his hands over his pants, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, “And this” He pulls a piece of paper from his pocket.

The tips of your fingers brush against one another as you take it from him. Curiosity wins over the heated flush that threatens to dust over your cheeks at the accidental contact.

‘I think you’re pretty’

“Would you like to join me?” you smile, patting the space beside you, Jimin’s own lips curling up at the corners.

“I’m Jimin”

And you refrain from telling him you know. Because the Jimin you knew was the one that had been tossed from mouth to mouth, built on flimsy lies and stupid expectations. Entirely built by rotten imaginations and women who had nothing better to do than chatter about other people’s lives when their own was crumbling just as much.

“Y/n” you giggle, outstretching your hand for him to shake.

Jimin’s eyes curl into little crescents as he smiles, a laugh bubbling up his throat “Nice to meet you, Y/n”

“Nice to meet you” You nod, “Oh! And, I think you’re pretty too”

“Do you think I can take you on a date? Tomorrow?” he turns to you, and you blink up at him.

“So soon?”

“Too soon?” he winces.

The corners of your lips turn upwards, busying yourself with finishing mending your mother’s dress, “No, I quite like how straight to the point you are”

Jimin’s chest deflates as he sighs, “I thought it might have scared you a little” he admits.

You hum, “No one’s ever asked me on a date before” you admit.

A wave of ease falls over the both of you, a unanimous understanding that there weren’t any expectations between the two of you. That as much as love was thrown onto the table, it didn’t have to be what the two of you got out of this.

Friendship, when you’re alone, is just as precious as a lover. Another human being with very human emotions and morals that match yours is just as special as something a little more than platonic.

“No way” he laughs, shoulder knocking against yours, you bite back a smile, “A girl as pretty as you?”

“Mmhmm”

“Then it’d be an honour to be the first” feeling bold, Jimin’s arm slips across your shoulders, “And hopefully the last”

“Ah is that so?” you drop the dress onto the grass beside you, pushing yourself to sit on your heels as you turn to face Jimin.

He nods, eyes flicking from your own to your lips, then back up again. Perhaps only mapping out your face into his mind, carving out every little crevice that makes you, and burning it into his brain. Or maybe it’s something a little less innocent.

You lean forward, a chaste kiss pressed to Jimin’s cheek before you pull back; a shy smile mirroring his, flushed cheeks probably matching his too. Though you find yourself liking the feeling, something ever so foreign yet welcome, you can’t help the airy laugh that spills from your lungs.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been the incessant tapping at your window that had woken you up like a little bird was pecking at the old glass. Understandably, fear had settled in your heart, it wasn’t often you were woken up in the middle of the night like this.

The floorboards creaked under the weight of your body as you slipped off your mattress, socked feet barely making a sound as you plan an easy escape without your uninvited visitor knowing you were going to find your mother.

You almost trip over your own feet when the tapping stops, Jimin calling out your name.

You scuttle over to your window, tugging your curtains open, “What are you doing here so late?” you whisper when you unlatch the window, pushing it open.

“I forgot to give you this” he raises his arm, a singular sunflower clasped between his fingers.

“You came all the way here to give me this?” you ask, baffled.

“Yes, I forgot to pick you a bouquet before our date this afternoon” he nods, “That…and I just missed you”

“Would you like to come in?” you take a step away from your window.

You see the unfiltered surprise on his face, “Too soon?”

He shakes his head, “I just wasn’t expecting it is all”

You pluck the sunflower from between his fingers, turning to place it in the vase with the other flowers he’d gifted you over the last week.

You turn back to Jimin as his boots thump against the floor, he kicks them off, shuffling in one spot as you take a seat on your mattress.

“Come here” you hide your smile, biting your bottom lip. He’s ever so careful as he takes a seat beside you. The both of you fall onto your backs like you often did in the grass at the park.

Soft silver moonlight spills into the room from the open curtains, cool night air washing over the both of you as you stare at the ceiling.

“I really like spending time with you” Jimin breaks the silence, though his gaze remains trained on one spot of your roof.

“I really like spending time with you, too” You tilt your head to look at him, unexplainable happiness filling your body until you felt like bursting.

He hums, next words barely above a whisper. “I hope we can be together for a long time”

“I would like that”

Jimin turns his head to face you, the softest smile on his face, “I’m glad”

Love with Jimin was pure. The both of you were young enough that it didn’t matter if it were rough around the edges, imperfect; though you wouldn’t have changed it for the world. It wasn’t hard to fall in love. Not when it was Jimin.

For every date he took you on, he would spend hours in the park picking flowers for you.

His mother had always adored them and could talk about anything botanical for hours. She knew all their meanings and all their worth. Her love for one of the world’s tiny treasures brushing off on Jimin growing up. Over the years the reason for his love had changed, something special to his mother was now something special to him.

Because flowers now reminded Jimin of you. Where soft petals between the tips of his fingers felt like your skin under his hands, always reaching out for you, holding any part of you he could. How the world around you smelt of flowers as he braided them into your hair or you made promise rings with wilting stems that needed a little bit of love; a new life, a new purpose.

And of course, Jimin had heard all about the men in the city who bought acres of land for their lovers. Gardens tended to with warm hands but barely there love. And Jimin’s dream was to spend afternoons in a garden, your knees brushing as he plants flower beds and vegetables. So he could wake you up each morning with a new bouquet and a letter as to why he loves you so much.

“What’s this one?” you tuck Jimin’s hair behind his ear, pressing a kiss to his nose.

“A red chrysanthemum” He tilts your face, thumb caressing the skin behind your ear.

“Yeah?” you breathe, eyelashes brushing against your cheeks as his lips barely brush over your own, and Jimin hums.

You smile into the kiss, “And what do red chrysanthemums mean?” you whisper, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

“I love you”

You pull back, eyes widening a fraction. Three words that felt like they should be whispered, a secret that the two of you shared but never spoke about. You knew you loved Jimin in some capacity, you weren’t stupid. And you knew he liked you back, he’d made that known; and yet those three words had you feeling as though love was the only emotion that mattered. That the only thing you could ever do was love Jimin.

“Too soon?” he smiles, thumb running over your bottom lip.

You shake your head, “No, not at all”

“This is for you too then” His free hand slips into his pocket. Piece of paper tucked between two fingers, he drops it into your awaiting palm.

‘I love you ♡”

Young love didn’t have to be rushed. You didn’t have to stagger after Jimin as he pulled you along, or him chase after you as you sped ahead. It could be late-night talking about all the seemingly insignificant things in life. How hard growing up was or the insane expectations for success that neither of you had a chance of grasping.

Marriage didn’t have to be your only reason. Not when Jimin had become many of the reasons you liked waking up in the morning, or making lunch for the both of you to share on scarce breaks at work.

It could be slow dancing in the moonlight, as Jimin hums and crickets chirp. Or afternoons spent lounging in the sun with pinkies intertwined and breaths in sync. Or, now whispered ‘I love yous’ melting into soft kisses to cheeks and lips and noses. Or pink flushed cheeks and smiles that hurt your face, the good kind of hurt that makes you giggle and want one more gentle press of his lips to your own.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You dip your fingers into the shallow edge of the lake, “It’s pretty cold”

You peek over your shoulder as Jimin pulls his shirt over his head, lithe muscles flexing under the motions of his movements. Every sharp line and soft ridge of his body was illuminated by the silver light of the moon.

“Guess we better warm up then” he grins, eyes raking down your body. They then linger on your face, and it’s not often you wonder what Jimin’s thinking. He usually speaks his mind, clingy shyness about his feeling for you never holding him back when it came to his thoughts.

You laugh, “Perv” your own shirt haphazardly shucked off your body, thrown into a pile with the rest of Jimin’s clothes.

His arm slips over your waist as you kick your panties off, goosebumps prickling the skin of your arms as your boyfriend takes a step into the lake.

His chest opens as the initial shock of the cold crawls up his spine. Jimin watches you fidget, arms wrapped around your bare breasts, “Come on, baby” he reaches a hand out for you, walking further until he’s waist-deep in the water.

An easy smile is on his face as he beckons you over, wading closer to you when you work up the courage to slink into the water. Your breath hitches as you take Jimin’s hand, legs wrapping around his waist. He throws your arms around his shoulders, murky water rippling around the both of you as he spins you around. Your bare chest pushes up against Jimin’s as you pull him closer, your body easing a little at the extra heat.

“You’re pretty” he murmurs, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs, hoisting you up a little higher.

You push his hair from his forehead, lips lingering over warm skin when you lean down to press a kiss over his hairline; your hands cupping his cheeks, eyes flickering across his face. You weren’t sure how to explain how you felt, Jimin had always been better at words than you had been.

It’s just, Jimin in the moonlight always felt right. Because for once the world fell silent, it felt like it finally belonged to just you and him. He looked ever so pretty dusted in silver, honeyed skin kissed by the wonders of the sky. Blemishes nothing but pretty places to kiss, each moment your lips touch his skin another reason for you to wonder how you even ended up here.

“I love you” you whisper.

But that never felt like enough. Three frail words that you utter over and over again, that should really lose their meaning over time, are the only words that ever seem to come to mind when it’s Jimin. Nothing fancy. Nothing poetic. Nothing that’s more than an ‘I love you’ because no matter how many times you seemed to say it, the weight of your words is always understood by Jimin.

And he laughs, “How abrupt of you”

You bite back a smile, “Sorry, it just came out”

“I might love you more, you know” His eyes close.

You press a kiss over his eyelids, “I think that’s impossible”

He hums, “I don’t”

He peeks an eye open, smiling when he sees the frown on your face.

“Every breath I take, and for every beat of my fragile heart, I will love you. Until the day I lay on my deathbed, and we must part ways, my love will be yours.” his eyes meet your own, “Though I know we’ll meet in the sky, and I’ll hand you my heart once more”

“And I’ll hand you mine” Your eyes search his, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders.

“I’m glad, my love. And I’ll cherish it for as long as you’ll allow me”

“Forever.” you say, wondering if his eyes really held galaxies or if they simply reflected the sky, “It’ll be yours forever”

“Then I have something to tell you”

Your eyebrows crease, and a strange sense of dread and excitement mixes inside of you. And you aren’t sure if you’re jittery from the cold or nerves or fear.

“What is it?” you urge.

Jimin swallows, hands travelling over your bare back and down your waist, “I’ve put down two gold coins for that house we had been talking about”

Your chest deflates, lungs wringing themselves out of all the air you had until you’re laughing. Almost falling backwards into the water if Jimin hadn’t pulled you closer to his body.

“Have you really?” you breathe, hand tangling into the hair on the back of his head, “Park Jimin, don’t lie to me”

He smiles, chest shaking with his own breathy laughter, “Never, my love. Truly it is going to be ours”

You shake your head, “How did you find the money for it”

“You know I have been working double shifts as of late” he hums, wet hands pushing your hair from your face, eager to see your blooming happiness.

“Yes, but I thought it was for your mother”

“She earns enough to feed herself, and I wanted a place of our own. And I know how much we’ve both dreamed of this moment, I had to do it”

“You’re perfect, you know that?” your lips mould into his, a moan of appreciation swallowed as you tilt your head; tongue poking at the seam of his lips.

“I do now” he huffs, pulling you in for another kiss by the back of your neck.

“We’re really going to have a home”

“Yes” he laughs, “Forever ours”

“I can’t believe it” you whisper, “Pinch me so I know it is real”

A moan gets caught in the back of your throat as Jimin’s teeth nip at the tender skin behind your ear, plush lips kissing over your skin, saliva slicked and heated.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You think you can find your and Jimin’s love in the little wonders of the world. Because as much as he wanted to hand you the universe, both of you knew that was impossible. That your love was tucked away, safer when hidden in dreams of a shared future. Tucked away in a home that was now yours forever, because neither of you had plans of going anywhere.

As selfish as it may seem, you’d stolen spring to be your own. You’d met in the spring and found a place for yourselves as flowers bloomed. You were Jimin’s spring flower and he was the sun and the moon and all the pretty things in between.

It wasn’t hard to fall into a routine, your lives were like clockwork, never stopping. It had always been that way, except now you’d stay within the precious walls of your home, and Jimin would return to you before the sun slipped behind the horizon and dinner was finished cooking on the fire.

Most mornings the both of you would wake up before sunrise, and you’d eat near-stale bread on the chairs Jimin had made outside the front door. Where once or twice a butterfly had come to kiss your nose in good morning, and then Jimin would kiss the same place over and over until you’re both giggling like it was the first time you’d kissed.

And for the days he slipped out of the house before you woke, he would leave little letters around the house for you to find throughout the day.

‘Last night I saw a star as you slept, and it reminded me of your eyes. Briefly, I thought to wake you but after seeing you so at peace, I decided to join you instead ♡’

He’d always had a secret liking towards poetry and found himself sitting with a quill and paper as the moon sat in the sky, thinking of poems about you. And only the ones that made him smile, and made his heart jump up and down inside his chest did he ever leave on his pillow for you to wake up to the next morning.

You’d clean the floors between sewing as Jimin worked as a blacksmith, lithe frame bulking up over the last couple of months. And he would make sure to leave you a note before leaving the house, with every little thing he would find that he loved about you.

‘Today’s reason is your smile ♡’

Evenings were your favourite, as were Jimin’s. Both your bodies ease into one another’s as you sit on worn-down cushions while playing checkers that your father had carved for you as a child.

Or you’d simply lay your head over Jimin’s thigh as he sings for you under the stars. Bellies almost full and hearts the most content as the universe writes your love in shooting stars, its ink the soft glow of the moon.

“I have a surprise for you next week, so take the day off” Jimin’s fingers rake through your hair, tucking it ever so delicately behind your ear.

You peel your eyes open, “And what about your own work?”

“I have already asked for a day away, no problem” He smiles down at you.

“What sort of surprise is it?” your voice comes out barely above a whisper, carried by the wind to Jimin’s ears, who hums.

He runs his thumb over his bottom lip, “I mustn’t say, it will ruin it”

“But I’ll be curious” You jab a finger into his stomach, lips curling into a smile when he leans down to capture your lips.

“Poor thing” he whispers, stealing another kiss.

‘A clue to your surprise: It reminds me of you ♡’

“I still don’t know what it is” You slide Jimin’s most recent note across the table, and he shrugs.

“Your final clue” He hands you another piece of paper.

‘Think of when we first met’

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this excited” Jimin laughs, arm slung over your shoulders.

You skip ahead a little, walking backwards as you smile over at Jimin who takes one of your hands, helping you twirl as if you were a princess and he was the prince. You’d spent every night sewing a new dress with leftover fabric from the tavern; a special occasion called for a special outfit.

And Jimin had smiled and laughed so much he’d almost fallen off the back of his chair as you’d spun for him. He’d called you utterly beautiful and then tugged you over his lap for a kiss, maybe two.

“Of course, I’m excited. I’ve been eager to know what your surprise is”

“Happiness looks good on you, my love” Jimin stops walking, pulling you to his chest.

“Then I must look good all the time, with you around”

“Where do you learn these things” His hand covers his mouth, a lame attempt at covering his smile.

“You”

Jimin raises his eyebrows, astounded, “When have I ever been cheesy?”

“All the time. I’ll show you when we get home, I have all those letters you’ve left me”

“You kept all those?” he gapes, footsteps falling in time with your own as you both start wandering back down the gravel path.

“Of course. I still have the first ever one you gave me, and then all the ones that came after that”

You bite your bottom lip, willing yourself not to laugh when you catch sight of Jimin’s rose-dusted cheeks.

“Then you may think I’m extra cheesy today” he announces, fingers interlacing with your own.

“Is that so?” you hum, shoulder knocking against his arm.

Jimin turns to you, “Do you trust me?”

You blink.

“Of course”

“Then please close your eyes”

“Right now?” your head tilts, eyes squinting to gauge how far away the end of the pathway is, “It doesn’t seem like we’re anywhere that a surprise could be”

“We are” he turns to you, “It won’t be a surprise if you keep looking though”

You nod, eyes narrowing; sceptical.

“If this is where you secretly murder me then I swear on my grave I will come back from the dead Park Jimin”

He laughs, “It would be impossible to live in a world without you, I wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you if it weren’t for your own pleasure”

You bring your hands to cover your eyes, back straightening when Jimin takes hold of your arm, turning you in the direction of the forest.

“Careful, the path is uneven this way” He pulls you further under the blanket of trees.

“Are we almost there” you stumble, amused laugh shaking your shoulders as Jimin’s other hand falls onto your waist to keep you steady.

“Almost”

The both of you stumble to a stop, your eyes squeezing shut behind your hands as you wander into the sun, out of the shade.

“Are you ready?”

And you hear the unease in his voice, a week of pressure building up. Bubbling until it’s now fizzling out of him in nervous rivulets, hands clammy as they run up and down your arms. His feet shuffle against crunchy grass, and this might be the most jittery you’ve ever seen Jimin.

“Yes,” you tell him, keeping your eyes closed as you take hold of his hands, squeezing his fingers between your own. Jimin swallows, Adams's apple bobbing under the weight of it.

His eyes wander over your face, “May I kiss you?”

The corner of your lips curl up at that, “Yes” you nod, leaning into his touch when he cups your cheeks.

The tension in both your shoulders releases as your lips mould together, ever so slowly, neither of you rushing as Jimin’s tongue teases into your mouth. He laps up every little noise that slips off your tongue, sweet like nectar.

Your eyes slip open, entirely focused on Jimin’s. “I really hope you like it” He keeps your focus on him, foreheads still touching, noses knocking against one another.

“May I be honest with you?”

And he hums, “Yes, of course”

“If it’s from you, then I will always love it”

“That seems a little extreme” he laughs, though unease still chews away at his mind.

“I don’t think so. Surely you would like anything I gifted you”

He nods, “Of course, I would”

“Then it’s no different for me, so please don’t worry” you whisper, eyes slipping closed once more as you press a featherlight kiss to his plush lips.

“Keep your eyes closed for a moment” he whispers back, and you hum.

Jimin’s hands fall away from your body, shadow slipping away from behind your eyelids as he steps away from you.

“Open them”

And you do.

“Oh Jimin” you whisper, a twitch of your lip the first sign of a smile.

As far as you can see, there are just flowers. The most vibrant you have ever seen, almost glowing under the warm light of the sun. For all the flowers Jimin had given you over the years, you think there must be every colour he’d ever thought to bring you; all swaying in tandem as if it were the most beautiful ocean.

The field stretches until it meets the sky, land completely hidden by a blanket of wildflowers.

You don’t know where to look, so many places to look but only two eyes. Your head is pulled in every which direction, mouth falling open in awe.

“Where did you find this place?” your voice comes out breathless, gaze only briefly meeting Jimin’s before you’re drawn back to acres of untouched land. A whole ecosystem thriving on its own, untampered with by human life.

“On the way back from a job. It reminded me of you, and I knew I had to bring you here” he steps closer to you, fingers brushing against your own.

You turn to face Jimin, “It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. Thank you for sharing it with me”

You slip your fingers through Jimin’s, “Would you like to dance with me?”

“Right here?” his eyes widen.

You nod, tugging him towards the sea of flowers, “Yes”

“But we have no music” his resistance nothing more than a show as he makes no move to stop you.

Wild grass tickles both your ankles, delicate petals of smaller flowers caressing your bare legs as you hike your dress up.

“That doesn’t matter” you laugh, pulling him further and further until overgrown flowers dust over your waist like gentle fingers, and a butterflies’ wings tickle your cheek.

Jimin watches as you twirl, hands outstretched for him to come closer. Your body knocks into his as he pulls you into his chest. Both of you fall in sync, as curious hands wander over arms and backs, down to waists and hips.

You flinch when something wet hits your nose, Jimin turning his face to the sky.

“It looks like it’s about to rain,” he says, and you tilt your head to look, “Perhaps we should go home”

You shake your head, “But we only just got here”

“But the rain, my love” he takes your hands, taking a step back, though your feet stay planted in their spot.

“A little bit of rain never hurt anyone” You pull him back into your body, eyes squeezing shut as a raindrop collides with your lashes.

The both of you are washed in a gust of shade, the sun hidden behind dark clouds that bleed into the horizon.

“Won’t you dance with me?” you look up at Jimin, clothes starting to mould into your skin as the sky rains more unshed tears.

“I suppose” he grins, arm falling around your waist.

Your hair clings to your foreheads, sodden leaves wetly slapping against your arms and legs. Rouge petals that had plans of rotting on the soil now hanging on to your dress and Jimin’s pants.

Your dress doesn’t fan out like a royal’s would when Jimin spins you, neither is he really dressed like a prince but the both of you feel as though you could be of that status in that moment.

Your eyes fall shut, smile never leaving your face. It’s as though your body evaporates, that the world around you fizzles upwards in little bubbles and you follow their lead. Chasing after the light that shines down on you like a beacon.

Something strange tugs at your heart, sinking you further and further into the darkness as you kick upwards until you’re spinning and the world is spinning with you. And the darkness feels all too familiar, your footsteps practised perfectly as if a routine.

Hands roam your body. Both yours and his laughter muffled underwater, a whisp of a soul slipping through your fingers when you turn towards the deep timbre of another voice, a voice far deeper than Jimin’s. His laugh vibrates in your chest as phantom hands graze against your naked skin. And he’s calling your name, your mouth opening to call back except nothing but air puffs past your lips; air bubbles caressing your cheeks as they float upwards.

Your feet move on their own without much thought as you turn in every which direction, only to ever be met by darkness; feet caught in quicksand that has you sinking further away from the light.

There’s something on the tips of your fingers as you reach out and an awful pressure squeezes at your chest and the echo– the echo of a voice you’ve heard before. Everything is awfully jumbled, words shoved down your throat, acidic in your stomach– poison as it absorbs into your bloodstream.

You stumble over your feet chasing after where the stranger’s voice had come from and suddenly your eyes are open as you collide with the floor. Brain rattling within the confines of your skull and your whole world shakes a along with you.

Jimin’s arms cage your head, chest heaving as he holds himself up over your body.

You feel puddles of water and sodden soil soak into the back of your dress as you sink further into the ground.

“Sorry” he whispers, droplets of water from his hair falling onto your cheeks.

“It’s okay, I forgot where I was for a moment” you admit, a smile pulling at the corner of your lips.

“I could tell” he laughs, falling back onto his heels.

Jimin tugs you up by your arms, pushing your wet hair out of your face.

“Maybe we should go home” he murmurs, “I’d hate to have another accident”

You nod, “I think that’s a good idea”

“Let’s go home, my love” he pushes himself to stand, and you glance down at your hands.

“Did you hear another man’s voice?” you blink away the rain from your lashes, Jimin’s eyebrows furrowing.

“No? It’s only the two of us here” he takes your hands, helping you up, “Did you hear someone?”

You shake your head, “No, it must have been something else”

“You know” Jimin starts as you trek out of the flowers, “I’ve never met anyone that loves dancing in the rain as much as you”

“I can’t explain the feeling” You turn to him, the smallest of smiles on your face.

“Then should we dance every time it rains?”

“I always dance when it rains” You pull him closer to your side, a futile attempt to steal some of his body heat.

“Yes, but I always watch. Maybe I’ll join you from now on”

“I would like that” you hum.

And that should have been the end of it. A conversation left in the past where its only leeway into your future is Jimin joining you the next time it decides to rain. Except, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

It was rotten how for those few moments the world hadn’t been yours, and Jimin hadn’t been Jimin, and you hadn’t been you. Or that the other voice that had definitely been in your head, a whisper in your ear, an echo on the other side of the dark plane. A siren’s song pulling you further into your own demise, forbidden land you should have never passed over.

It shouldn’t have been anything more than how much you truly loved dancing in the rain, where it was just something you had always loved and always done without thinking much about it.

You turn your head to look at Jimin who lay beside you, finally asleep after the both of you had taken a bath. So at peace with himself and the world, as the weight of emotions, you’re unfamiliar with breathe down the back of your neck and you lay awake.

It’s when you close your eyes, you start to fall. And the eyes that meet yours when you open them aren’t Jimin’s.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

For every life you lived after this one, the love you had here will cling onto you forever, sticky like you’d dipped your fingers in molasses. And maybe it’s because this had been the first time you’d learnt what love truly was, or maybe Taehyung had carved such a large hole in your heart that only he could ever truly fill. So even in life after him, he continues to burrow inside of you as his soul finally rests.

Pure love was an addicting feeling. And maybe Taehyung had made you greedy, grabbing onto such a wonderful feeling over and over until it destroyed you. It wasn’t fair to blame him, but surely your greed had stemmed from somewhere.

And love could only ever be as magical as you’d imagined it if it begins with Taehyung.

And so, the story of your first life, and therefore your first love starts with Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung and Jimin had been the most similar of your loves. Both of them had always liked the more delicate things in life.

Taehyung liked to read how whimsical the ocean was, white seafoam as gentle as clouds, and waves that caressed ankles that wandered the shore. Or how the stars always seemed that little bit brighter when you were in love, the universe shining its approval of something so perfect. He liked the idea of faeries that danced under the light of the moon, or reading forbidden love stories and poems that hurt his heart. Only to be mended with stories of truer love and lifetimes dedicated to another being.

Taehyung’s sole purpose in life was to become a duke and run the estate after his father passed. Except he had never liked to be shoved into a mould, crafted by hands that had no care, rough as they shaped him. He despised the fact his life was gifted to him just so he could be chained to a role he had no purpose of fulfilling.

His spirit had always been that of a wild bird, curious about things he had no business knowing, and wanting to wander where forbidden.

He loved the freedom that birds had, how beautiful their feathers were, gliding through the sky without a care in the world. They had something he didn’t, and maybe his admiration had stemmed from some weird sense of jealousy. But, that never stopped the look of pure joy on his face whenever he caught a glimpse of a dove dancing on the waves of the wind.

One of Taehyung’s hobbies had become complaining about his classes. The both of you giggled under one of the trees outside his window, shoulders knocking against each other’s as he told you stories of how his politics tutor was surely a witch, and there was no doubt in his mind that his literature teacher was a ghoul.

The world felt as though it were crumbling at his feet on the days the two of you couldn’t meet. And so, he’d send you letters in secret, asking to meet at the front gate of the estate; where he’d hand you flowers through the bars, or kiss the back of your hand, only to beckon you closer when that doesn’t feel like enough. His plush lips warming your cheeks until he finds your lips and the both of you are melting into cold metal bars, the shyest smiles on both your faces when a maid catches the both of you.

Most days were spent in the garden, or the drawing room where the both of you could talk for hours. You liked flicking through catalogues of dresses for the coming seasons, always asking Taehyung what he thought. Wondering if he’d like a new broach for his jackets, or if a new waistcoat would suit him. How wonderful the both of you would look matching, with a handkerchief you’d embroidered for him sat in his breast pocket– every gentle prick of the needle through fabric and each delicate line of tread, laced with love that lays beside his gently beating heart.

Taehyung liked to recount all the things he adored about love, reciting poems and lines of novels he’d read before bed, and then telling you everything he adored about you. Because ‘love’ and ‘you’ should always fall in the same sentence in his eyes. Love would never truly be ‘love’ if you weren’t in the picture. Your silhouette was painted within each frame of his life, tucked in corners of the canvas or slipped far within his heart and mind.

Taehyung and love were perhaps a synonym of one another.

He was the epitome of love.

All things romance and passion, and all things special between two people that have you shy and kicking your feet. Every moment feels like the long-awaited kiss after chapters of build-up and tension, where you have to look away from the book for a brief moment to recollect your thoughts and then bite your nails to hide a smile.

If you had to describe Taehyung in one word, you think you’ll always gravitate towards eccentric.

“I think the reason I was born, was to love you” he’d told you one evening, the stars like a halo around his head as he’d taken your hands into his own.

You hadn’t known what to say, the corners of your lips quirking up at the sides because, of course, he’d utter such sweet words while the both of you laze in the gardens. Not quite ready to part ways just yet. Even if your carriage had been sat outside the house for over an hour, and your supper was probably sat on the table at home.

“What a sorry reason to be born” you’d whispered back.

“I don’t think so. The opposite, in fact” he tugs you a little across the grass, closer between his legs, “What is the point of life if it isn’t for unconditional love? And a mind that functions with the sole purpose of loving another?”

Maybe it was that moment that you realised you loved love. That you loved loving Taehyung and you loved that he loved you just as much as you loved him, if not more.

“Then, you’re my reason for living” It had fallen off your tongue quicker than you had thought to catch it. Though the smile that had stretched onto Taehyung’s face is one that will forever be etched into your mind, it had been innocent, content.

You’d seen him smile so many times and yet, something had shifted in your mind, any qualms you had about letting go and succumbing to the purest form of adoration had fizzled out in both your hands.

Because life wasn’t so bad when you had someone to love.

“Just as you are my reason to live” he says.

“I hope the both of us live forever so I never forget this feeling” you’d interlaced your fingers, cheeks flushing the lightest pink that’s veiled by the silver moonlight. Though he probably feels how warm you are when he cups your face, pressing a kiss over the tip of your nose.

“Forever?” he hums, “Even if you were to forget, I would remind you over and over for as long as we’re together, and every life after that”

“I’ll remind you too then” you promise, though Taehyung laughs, chest vibrating under the weight of his voice.

“I could never forget, not when it comes to you, my love”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You don’t remember when you’d met Taehyung, you think he’d always just been there.

Perhaps the both of you had snuck out of a ball back in the day, two rowdy children giggling on the balcony as you whispered about guests. Which ones you liked, or the ones your mothers’ would mutter about under their breath. The both of you had done it so many times that it would be fitting for your first encounter. A habit the both of you would keep up as you grew older as well.

Or maybe the both of you had camped out under the tables while your mothers flitted from group to group, and you’d stolen cakes from plates and perfectly cut sandwiches from unattended trays. Where you’d exchange slices of tomato for his pieces of cucumber, and you’d both share squares of cake from one fork.

Friends from childhood had started bleeding into something a little more as the two of you grew and realized that maybe friendship wasn’t enough for either of you. And maybe that had been the little seedling from where your never-ending greed stemmed from. A constant feral need for constant love that was depicted in careful strokes of paintings and well-thought-out words bled onto a page with dark ink.

Taehyung had known early on that it was always going to be you he married. There was no doubt in his mind that you were going to wed. It was not often he put his foot down when it came to the choices made for him in life, and making it a point he had no interest in any other woman than you, had always been a point he’d made extremely clear.

Marriage hadn’t been something you’d put much thought into until Taehyung would bring it up as you drank tea together of an afternoon. And after the little seed of possibility had been planted in your mind, you knew you wanted to marry Taehyung.

And you’d never second-guessed yourself, because if it was going to be anyone, then it was going to be your best friend.

“If I were to wear a white dress, would you wear a white suit?” you lay the magazine over your chest. Taehyung pushes his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose when he tilts his head down to look at you; head resting over his thigh.

“If that is what you want” he hums, “White flowers may be too much, so let’s add colour”

You run a finger over your bottom lip, “Purple?”

“Of course” he nods, “I’ll braid them into your hair too” his fingers tickle over your hairline.

You push yourself to sit up on your elbows, “I think it’s bad luck if the groom sees the bride in her dress on the morning of the wedding”

Taehyung runs his thumb over his bottom lip, “To hell with tradition”

“Your mother isn’t going to be very happy” you smile, “All she ever talks about is the perfect wedding”

Taehyung smiles, “Yes, but it isn’t her wedding. I think I’d be beyond miserable if we weren’t to see each other, I must tell you how beautiful you look before we meet at the end of the alter”

“It would only be a few hours” you press, eyebrows raising.

“A few hours too many. Who is supposed to help me with my tie if not you?”

You fully sit up now, “You’d have a maid or two aiding you”

Taehyung frowns, whatever paperwork he was reading long forgotten on the couch as he tugs your legs over his thighs, fingers dancing over the bare skin covered by your skirt.

“But they don’t do it as you do, and I have to look my best the day we tie souls and vow to be lovers for the rest of our time alive. It’s an important day”

“I suppose you’re right” you hum, brushing his hair from his forehead, “I too, would be lonely if we were to part on such a joyous day”

It hadn’t been long after the both of you had entered adulthood that Taehyung’s father had died, and only a few months after that the two of you had gotten married.

You’d worried for Taehyung, knowing that even though his relationship with his father had never been the best, at least a small part of him should have been sad that his soul had left to rest. But no matter how much you lightly prodded, and made sure to ask if he were okay, Taehyung never shed a tear.

He never truly found a way to articulate his feelings; losing someone he never saw as a father left the smallest hole in his heart. A pinprick, because Taehyung wasn’t heartless and knew the old man had brought him into this world, something he will forever be grateful for– but that was it.

For the thousands of days you and Taehyung had spent together, the day he had proposed would be your second favourite of them all. He hadn’t made it extravagant, nor did he make it a huge point by proposing at a large gathering. He knew you despised those sorts of events, so he had asked you to be his bride at your favourite spot.

The pond in Taehyung’s gardens had always been your favourite. It felt as though the world only belonged to the two of you when you spent evenings alone, sat on the bench, where fireflies danced over the water, their reflection like little stars scattered across the pond, the moon so much larger in its reflection than it looked in the sky.

The day of your wedding, and all the days after that would forever take the top spot.

Taehyung had always loved your soul. He knew you were pretty, of course, you were; you were the most ethereal being he had ever come across.

The faeries and pretty little wonders he read about, he always pictured you in their place. But it wasn’t always about the way you looked that had Taehyung coming back for more, or his heart thumping ever so hard against the skin of his chest whenever you were around.

He thought you had the most wonderful soul that he liked to dip his fingers into, gentle like the softest waves, or cradle it to his chest. The most delicate part of you, ever so precious, the rawest form of yourself that he’d hold on to for as long as he was allowed. Because if one day the two of you were to ever part, he’d find the path of your soul, trace his fingers through every dip and curve he’d memorized, and make his way back to your side.

The night of your wedding, the night the both of you had given yourself to one another fully, was never a moment Taehyung thought he’d be ready for. It’s not that he was second-guessing his choice– sometimes in life the moments we’ve been waiting for feel like a lifetime away. So many hours and even more minutes between now and then, that when the day stumbles before you in all its joyous glory, no amount of falling into your mind in silent preparation had ever truly prepared you for this.

Taehyung had worshipped your body like you were his only goddess, you were his religion, his reason for life and death and everything he breathed and consumed in his fragile mortal body. Your souls knotting as your lips pressed so gently against one another, their pinkies forever intertwined as they melted like candle wax and hardened as one lifeform.

Taehyung particularly loved the feeling of your nails digging into the delicate skin of his shoulders. A feeling forever ingrained into his mind, sending a shiver up his spine when his mind wanders to how you looked in candlelight, spread bare for him to defile.

The both of you felt as though the honeymoon phase was nothing but lies, an easy scare for those who fell too fast, drowning in acidic love that dragged two people away from one another in harsh waves. Because for you and Taehyung, it never ended.

Every day that you woke up to Taehyung beside you, had you burying your face in your pillow, smile so hard to contain you covered it up with a kiss to Taehyung’s lips as he slowly woke up.

“I love you” he’d murmur, eyes barely open.

“I love you more” a hand cupping his cheek, you’d press a kiss to his jaw; sometimes tickled by the stubble that had grown in.

Something ever so mundane, yet it always seemed to bring you so much happiness.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

For a week during the summer, Taehyung would hand his duties over to his assistant and take you away for a short vacation.

You liked the little house the both of you owned on the other side of town, secluded from the rest of the world.

It had been one summer when your love for rain had started. You often found yourself reading by the window when the summer showers would pay you a visit, dousing the garden in muddy puddles and the gentle pitter-patter of the world’s tears hitting the ground easy white noise as you danced across pages of books. Or simply watched Taehyung sits on the piano bench, only so he could sit in your company.

Taehyung had always loved playing the piano, one of his many loves that he’d buried with the immense amount of work that had piled on to him since taking the seat as head of the household. The grand piano that sat in the far room of the house was his secret door of salvation.

“Will you play me a piece?” you motion towards the piano, doors to the garden hooked open. Sure to slam shut with the wind picking up. The air was a little sweeter that afternoon, a gentle breeze raking through your hair, licking at the tops of the pages of your book.

“I haven’t played for a while” Taehyung closes his own book, “But if it’s for you, I could never say no”

You take a seat beside Taehyung as he flexes his fingers, gently running his hand over the ivory keys.

“Would you like me to get your music book?” you lay your head on his shoulder.

He shakes his head, “No, it’s alright. I doubt I’d remember how to read much of it anyways”

“Do you remember my favourite piece?”

Taehyung’s tongue wets his bottom lip, “I should hope so”

Your eyes close as the first note penetrates the air, your head jostling slightly as Taehyung reaches the other end of the keys, his cheek knocking against the top of your head. The tips of his fingers dance elegantly, gentle with each deep hum of the piano’s song.

You perk up at the first sound of rain, barely there, almost concealed by Taehyung as his movements become bolder, each thick note more pronounced, each deep hum vibrating through your skin.

You lift your head from his shoulder, “I didn’t think it would rain today”

You take one look at Taehyung, the smallest smile teasing at his lips when you stand. You kick your slippers off by the open door, toes curling into the damp grass as you step outside.

You blink as a raindrop falls on your nose, slipping until it’s wetting your lips. You turn back to look at Taehyung, waving when he lifts his head to look at you; and he winces when he presses the wrong note.

You wander further into the garden, hiking your skirt up so it won’t drag across the wet soil.

As the rain gets heavier the sound of the piano is slowly drowned out, the world yours for the moment before you’re turning back to Taehyung.

“Tae” you call back inside, beckoning him over when he turns towards you, “Come dance with me”

The piano is left and forgotten as Taehyung pushes himself to stand, shoes piled with your slippers as Taehyung steps into the garden. He slinks towards you, hair starting to cling to his forehead as the rain gets heavier.

“You’ll catch a cold” he takes your hand, tugging you into his chest.

“But the world is so beautiful when it rains”

“Just this once I’ll indulge you” he presses a kiss to your forehead.

As much as the world looks wonderful in that moment, Taehyung outshined it all. Your clothes stuck to the both of you like a second skin, your hair tickling the side of your face, clinging to you like sticky wet vines down the back of your neck.

Taehyung’s hands wander your body, pulling you closer when you start to drift away– your hips finally falling in sync. All those hours of classes on how to dance are washed away by the rain as the both of you stumble, almost falling over each other’s feet.

“Look” you point towards the back of the estate, “there’s a rainbow” you laugh.

Taehyung follows your line of sight, “How pretty” he hums, his hands falling to your waist.

Your fingers tease over his chest, heart hammering under his skin, mere seconds away from jumping out of his skin. Taehyung’s hands wander further down, a surprised moan catching in the back of your throat when he grabs the meat of your ass; tugging you into his body. And you can feel his growing erection against your stomach.

“Not in the garden” you whisper, fingers trailing lower until you’re gently tugging at his belt.

Taehyung leans down, warm breath fanning the side of your neck. He presses a wet kiss to the unblemished skin, “I wouldn’t give the serving staff the pleasure of seeing you fall apart for me” he whispers, sodden hair falling over your shoulder.

You take his hands from where they’re teasing over the top of your thighs, “Let’s go” you take long strides back towards the house.

“Where to, my love?” he trails after you, the most giddy smile on his face.

You look at him over your shoulder, “Our bedroom”

Your feet slap wetly against the tile floors, muddy footprints trailing behind the both of you. Youthful joy thrums throughout your body, giggles hard to keep down as the both of you stagger through the hallway towards the bedroom.

Taehyung’s overzealous in the way he opens the door, and you both wince when it bangs against the wall. The briefest clarity grazes your mind before lust sets back in, and all you can focus on is the incessant throbbing between your legs, and the man stood before you.

You kick the door closed, Taehyung pulling his wet shirt over his head when you turn back to him– your dress is soon to follow.

“Would you mind helping me?” you turn your back to Taehyung, shoulders curling inwards as his fingers trace over the intricate ribbing of your corset.

He’s gentle as he tugs at the ribbons, and you heave a sigh of relief, muscles finally easing a little. Dull throb sinks out of your ribs as you heave a deep breath.

You turn around, Taehyung’s eyes trailing to your bare chest, curving down the slope, fingers itching at his sides to sink and dig his nails into the plush flesh. He swallows, Adams's apple bobbing under the weight of desire.

“My beautiful wife” he whispers, hands running up the length of your arms before he’s teasing the edge of your breasts. You trace over his belt, tugging impatiently as he pulls you towards the bed.

You fall backwards onto the mattress, air momentarily punched from your lungs. Taehyung’s arms cage your head, thigh nudging your legs open for him.

Your wet hair sticks to your neck, small droplets of water falling over your cheeks from Taehyung’s own hair as his eyes wander over your face. Windows to his soul wide open as sickly sweet love dances within his eyes, adoration you know you’ll never get from another man bared naked, yours for the taking.

You rut up against his knee, damp cotton panties dragging deliciously against your clit.

Taehyung’s arms flex as he leans down, plush lips trailing down your jaw, gently plucking soft moans from the back of your throat with every mean nip of his teeth over delicate skin.

Your thighs clamp around Tae’s leg, arms slithering around his shoulders as you use him for your own pleasure, short bursts of pure arousal wracking up your body with every purposeful tense of his muscles.

“Good girl” he groans, falling to hold himself up by his elbows as his lips map out the rest of your body– kissing over your neck, the underside of your breasts, down towards your stomach. You whine as he kneels before you, hips bucking upwards to try and chase the slowly fizzling pleasure.

He kisses your mound over your underwear, tips of his fingers barely brushing over your clit as he trails them down towards your covered folds. Thumb splitting your labia, guttural groan rumbling from his chest as he feels your slick heat.

He can’t seem to stifle the chuckle that slips past his lips either as you whine, the most pitiful pout tugging onto your face as he teases you.

“How needy” he croons, adding a little more pressure over your entrance, “I’ll make sure to make you feel good”

You lift your hips, a silent invitation for him to tug your panties off, and he does, dropping them beside him; forgotten as he looks at your slick soaked pussy.

“Tae” you whisper, impatient as your fingers tangle into his wet hair, careful as you try and tug him closer to where you needed him most without hurting him.

“Hm?” he hums, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he pushes them open a little wider, making it easier for him to slip closer to his favourite place.

Your toes curl as he bends, placing the lightest kiss over your clit, “Want you”

“Want you too, my love” he murmurs, hot breath fanning over your folds.

He licks a bold stripe from your entrance to your clit, tongue dipping past your walls before he’s pulling back, wad of spit dribbling over your already sodden cunt.

Your thighs threaten to twitch closed, and when Taehyung notices this he tugs them over his shoulders, dragging you a little further to the edge of the bed.

His thumb teases over your clit, thrumming at the sensitive little bud as he pushes his tongue back inside of you. The moan you let out is sure to have echoed down the halls, your embarrassment only amplified when you feel another dribble of slick gush past your walls, sure to coat Taehyung’s chin shiny.

“M’ gonna cum” you hiccup, hips frantically bucking upwards as Taehyung further smothers his face into your pussy.

He hums, a new wave of arousal coursing through your body at the unexpected vibrations.

It’s a haphazard flick of your clit that has you tumbling head first into your orgasm, thighs quivering as they clamp around Taehyung’s head, though that doesn’t seem to deter him as he licks into your cunt, swallowing down your release.

“S’ too much” you sob, hands pushing your lover from between your thighs. He kisses your knee, head flopping across your leg as he looks up at you.

Your stomach clenches at the dopey smile on his face, thumb running over his bottom lip, still shiny with your arousal.

“Are you tired, my love?” he asks, fingers curling around your wrists, kissing your palm, then the tips of each finger.

You shake your head, “I can still go if you’d like”

“This isn’t about me, it’s about you”

You swallow, unexplainable love swelling inside your chest.

“Please make love to me” you whisper, pink hue deepening in shade on your cheeks as Taehyung stands at full height, shucking off whatever clothes he still had on.

You can’t help but wet your lips, watching as he runs a gentle hand over his length, slicking his cock up with pearly beads of precome.

You push yourself up further on the bed, legs falling open as Taehyung kneels before you.

He runs a finger through your folds, barely dipping a fingertip inside of you before he’s pulling out, pushing your thighs further apart.

He guides his cock to your entrance, slicking the head with your cum before he’s gently pushing into you. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, cunt clenching around Taehyung’s length as he gently rocks into you.

He groans, barely pulling out before feeding you another inch. His hands roam up the length of your body as he finally bottoms out, hips rutting into you by habit.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss which he melts into, eyes fluttering shut as he tilts his head, tongue teasing over the seam of your lips.

He licks up into your mouth, concoction of your saliva clinging to his tongue when he pulls back.

“Ready?” he murmurs against your lips.

“Mmhmm” you hum, muscles falling lax as Taehyung pushes your thighs up to your chest. He almost pulls out, the air punched from your lungs as he snaps back into you.

Unabashed, you moan, Taehyung’s name tumbling from your lips like it were the only word you knew as he thrusts into you.

It’s wet when Taehyung’s thighs meet your ass, sticky with arousal that clings to both your skin and moans a harmony with one another.

Your hand snakes down the length of your body, between your thighs, teasing over your clit as Taehyung throws his head back, utterly consumed by unadulterated pleasure.

“Together” he groans, hips losing their calculated pace.

His cockhead nudges over your sweet spot, a whine dripping off your lips that Taehyung catches, kiss messy, teeth clashing.

You pick up the pace on your clit, fizzling pleasure slipping down your spine, slick gushing from your hole, so many feelings, so many emotions– all amplified as endorphins buzz at your brain, a shockwave of dopamine setting you alight.

You feel Taehyung twitch between your walls, your pussy clenching sporadically around his length as he nears his orgasm.

Taehyung tips over the edge before you do, creamy white cum painting your walls in thick ropes. Your own orgasm following as you feel another wave of Taehyung’s seed flood your cunt.

His hips twitch as you continue to clench around him, pushing his release further into you.

Your chest stutters as you try and catch your breath, fingers splayed over your mound as you fall back into reality.

Your moan as Taehyung pulls out, a hiccup following as he presses a kiss to your cheek. His fingers gather up the dribble of cum that follows his cock, pushing it back inside of you. And you twitch at that, overstimulated.

He reaches behind your head for a pillow, your thighs falling to the bed, to which Taehyung tuts.

“Lift your hips up for me, darling” he soothes, singular hand gathering both your ankles, pulling the lower half of your body from the mattress so he can slip the pillow underneath you.

“You’d look awfully pretty baring my child” his hand trails down your stomach, over your womb.

“I hope this time we are lucky” you tell him, finger interlacing with the ones over your stomach.

“Me too, my love. Our child would be the most precious little thing”

You smile, eyes slipping shut as you paint the image of what your baby would look like, “I hope they look like you”

“I’d always wished they’d look like you. Their mother holds all the beauty of this cruel world”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your chest, “Then how about they look like the both of us, as their father shares all of that beauty”

“That would be wonderful” Taehyung pushes himself off the bed, slipping on a robe that had been forgotten on one of the chairs that morning.

“What if they aren’t a boy?” your hands fall over your chest, watching Taehyung as he gathers the bowl of water and towels.

He turns to look at you, “What would it matter if they were a girl?” his eyebrows furrow.

“Wouldn’t you need an heir”

He wets his bottom lip, “Boy or girl, I’m not bothered, my love. If we were to have a son then I would never subject them to the horrors of becoming heir. And if we have a precious little daughter, I would love her all the same, and if one day she decides she wants to take over the estate then I would let her”

The corners of your lips tug up into a smile, “Then I am glad” Your hand finds his as he takes a seat beside you on the bed, dipping the towel into water, gently dragging it over your sweat-slicked skin.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Falling in love with Taehyung had made you a lot of things.

Juvenile had never been on top of that list, though when you think about it, it really should have been. Or that somewhere written in the fine print of your story, neither of you would die, that you’d both freeze in time and continue your lives for the rest of eternity.

Some days when you’d sit alone, you wish Monet had been around during your life with Taehyung. His paintings as beautiful as the love you shared. Paintings full of purpose, the world through the eyes of a man– impressionist paintings that had so much raw colour, so much more vibrance than the real world.

You wish he’d have been able to put paint to canvas, where every gentle stroke of his brush was a piece of stupid, young naivety put into breath-taking art. Meaningful, purposeful, and beautiful. Because your ignorance would have made a beautiful collection, a series of a time when the future wasn’t as perfect as his art. Bringing both you and your lover to downfall.

Your life was not the art of Monet, nor was it as mesmerising as Van Gogh’s Starry Night. You weren’t frozen in time like you were part of history, forever documented on paper and hung for the world to see.

You were naive enough to think that with Taehyung’s new rise to power, somewhat unexpected in high society, he wouldn’t have one or two enemies.

The end of your first life hadn’t been what you had wanted it to be.

As much as you remember the day you had gotten married or all the afternoons you and Taehyung had spent in the garden, dancing in the rain, under rainbows and the sun that peeked through the clouds, there to celebrate your love just as much as the both of you were; what was supposed to be the perfect ending like all the far-fetched stories Taehyung read, this was more of a tragedy.

Because that’s what it was– farfetched.

You remember the afternoon that the perfect life you had, had crumbled. Sand slipping through your fingers, falling to the bottom of the hourglass.

You lay on the couch, your foot tapping against the arm, Taehyung’s quil tinking against the bottle of ink. In recent months you’d found yourself reading Taehyung’s favourite books, all of their spines worn down, loved and read over and over.

“Do you smell that?” you push yourself up onto your elbows, the book laid over your lap.

“Smell what, my darling?” he takes off his glasses, hand running over his tired eyes.

Your eyes meet Tae’s, “Something smells as though it’s burning”

The both of you sit in silence for a moment before Taehyung pushes his chair back, peering out the window. His fingers try and pull at the latch, finding it stuck, and he turns back to you.

“Maybe I’m imagining it” you tell him when you see his eyebrows furrow.

“I can definitely smell something” he turns back to you, “I can’t tell what. Go and call someone to open this window, it’s jammed”

Your book is dropped onto the couch as you push yourself up, you go to open the door to Taehyung’s office, only for the door not to open. You push a little harder, shoulder knocking uncomfortably against the hardwood.

You press an ear to the door.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung asks, stalking towards you.

“It won’t open”

Taehyung makes a noise from the back of his throat, and you step out of the way when he takes hold of the door handle.

He mirrors your earlier action, shoulder knocking against the door.

“It won’t open” he turns to you.

“I know, my love” A gentle smile moulds onto your lips.

You press your ear to the door again, “Do you hear that?”

Taehyung follows; ear pressed to the door, “Burning?”

“Burning?” you stand straight.

You crouch down, fingers feeling over the gap between the floor and door, “Hello?” you call out, hand flinching away as heat licks over your fingers.

“Is anyone there?” Taehyung shouts, fist banging against the door.

“Taehyung” you tug at his shirt, trying to pull him away from the door. He relents, taking a step forwards, “Taehyung, it’s a fire” You take his hand.

“What?”

“It’s a fire” You show him your fingertips, hands shaking slightly as the reality of what was happening settles in.

“You’re hurt” he murmurs, “If one of the staff would just answer we could treat your wounds” his lips barely brush over the burn.

“Taehyung it’s barely an injury, not when we’re locked in here with a fire right outside that door”

He swallows, “We’ll find a way out”

“How?” you dare ask, “We can’t go out the window, that’s suicide from this high up”

His foot taps against the floor, hand running over his jaw in thought.

Your focus is snatched away from your lover when something creaks, burning flames slithering under the crack under the door, molten snakes with no goal in mind.

Taehyung pulls you further into his office, the door crackling as the flames start to chew it up, an onslaught of heat spilling into the room. You can smell the gasoline, splintered wood glistening in it as the door creaks off its hinges, flinging the fire further into the office, and you watch as it singes over the carpet.

The flames dance before you, a mesmerising dance, crawling up the walls, heated footsteps stalking across the rug, heady puffs of carbon monoxide smoking into the air.

Your hand flies to cover your mouth when a thin wisp of smoke slips down your windpipe, tickling your throat and searing at the inside of your lungs.

Taehyung pulls you into his chest as you back into the wall furthest away from the fire, “It’s going to be okay” he heaves, his own hand covering his nose and mouth, dry cough spluttering past his lips.

Your eyes squeeze shut as the fire slinks closer to the both of you, dangerously close, teasing as it flicks at your ankles, its amble arms chewing up the bookcases, rage only amplifying with each novel it consumes.

You catch sight of a silhouette standing outside the office, body veiled by thick flames that continue to slink into the office. Another splash of gasoline only makes it burn brighter, sweat tickling the back of your neck.

Your arms slip around Taehyung’s waist, and he helps you both sit on the ground, arms now holding your shoulders. A lame attempt at holding you away from the blazing fire that creeps closer.

Your lungs can’t seem to get enough oxygen, panic setting into your bones as you heave for a full breath. Your eyes water as you choke on what should have been a rush of oxygen, only your lungs burn with the ash that settles inside of you, clinging to your windpipe– coating the inside of your mouth.

“Try not to–” Taehyung coughs, hand lifting to clasp around his throat, cheeks flushing a deep red “-breathe it in too much– cyanide”

A yelp gets caught in your throat as the flames flicker too close to you, singing the hem of your dress. You try and kick it away, hand flapping down to make sure the fire doesn’t chew at any more of your clothing. You try to ignore the prickly burn to your bare skin, eyes squeezing shut as you try and curl in on yourself to make you smaller.

You tug on Taehyung’s shirt, dry cough lurching your body forward that Taehyung tries to catch only to heave.

“I love you” you whisper, the both of you cornered. Nowhere to run.

The figure stood outside the office long gone, fire now out of their control. A wild beast that had no plans of stopping until it had chewed and gnawed at your home, until it had nothing to fuel it anymore, leaving behind piles of ash and broken dreams– charred bodies and guilty minds to the ones who had started this.

You flinch backwards when Taehyung’s desk folds in on itself, flames spitting out its joy as the planks of wood slowly char under the heat; a warning for your own destiny.

His fingers lace into the hair on the back of your head, pulling you into him, “And I love you. When the both of us are reborn, I will find you, and we can fall in love all over again” he manages, the flames looking like hellish wings behind his back, slowly licking at his shirt, sizzling the fabric– more chemicals sifting through the air and into your fragile lungs.

Taehyung curls further into you when the fire licks at his shoes, easily chewing through the leather, deft fingertips tracing up his legs, and over his body.

“Don’t say that” Your fingers loosen their grasp on his shirt as you heave for another breath, mind entirely gone as you spin, the world spinning with you. Your brain felt as though it were being flushed out with helium, pressure so much you think it might explode.

Your eyes squeeze shut.

And when you open again, Jimin’s there.

His eyes still wide with shock.

You feel bile rise up your throat at the sight of him, blood smeared across his perfect face, puncture still oozing red from his neck soaking through his shirt fully. Your floor is in no better shape, though you think there's as much of your own blood as there is his.

“Jimin?” you whisper, vision momentarily veiled by salty tears that fall down your cheeks like pitiful pearls, mixing with the crimson the drips from a gash in your head, dull ache migrating to behind your eyes.

“Jimin you have to wake up now. Please”

He doesn’t move, not when you hear footsteps from the other room– heavy boots that clatter against old wood– not when you call his name. Not when the front door creaks closed and the world is silent once more, or when your chest stutters out another breath and you feel another wave of blood gush out of your stomach, adding to the puddle below the both of you.

“Jimin” you call again, choking on your own sob, fists balling up, “Jimin, please don’t leave me. I’m scared”

You look into his eyes. Nothing. All signs of life spilt onto the floor.

In a sick and twisted way, you’re glad Jimin had gone before you.

You’d have hated it if he had to watch you dead on the bedroom floor while he slowly follows you. At least now you could be with him a little longer, even if you couldn’t tell him goodbye for the last time. Or tell him how much you love him, or how happy he’d made you, or how grateful you are.

So many words left unsaid, that you swallow back down with a sob. And they mix with the bile that singes your throat, so close to spilling onto the puddle of red as you make eye contact with your dead lover.

You drag your body through the blood on the floor, closer until your chest is pressed against Jimin’s and your body falls lax against him, arm slung over his side.

You press the palm of your hand against your open wound, what little hope you had left inside of you, the smallest voice whispering that maybe you could survive. Though somewhere deeper down you know that your soul will soon follow Taehyung’s, and now Jimin's too.

You push your head into the curve where his neck meets his shoulder, tangy, metallic blood staining your lips as you kiss over the tainted skin.

He was still warm, skin still very much his as your fingers skim over his back. Ever so gentle as though he would crack if you weren’t careful. And you would have gathered him up in your arms if you’d had the strength.

And at that final moment when it settles within your mind and your heart that your body can no longer hold onto the slither of life still inside of you– the easing thump of your heart mellowing inside your chest. You remember the little note Jimin left on his pillow for you to wake up to that morning.

“When you and I hug, our hearts are locked behind our ribcages and touch through our skin. Always beating in sync. And for as long as my heart beats beside yours, it will belong to you. For those moments we part, perhaps it falls out of sync, and when we reunite, my heart may just be reminded who it beats for. And we will be in sync once more ♡’

☆ﾟ thank you for reading!! reblogs are always appreciated, and please let me know what you think!!

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